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onecanonlife · 4 years ago

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careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately, the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away, so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively: the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal. If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 8,506

Chapter Warnings: swearing, blood, major injury, seizure, character death

Chapter Summary: In which the sun rises.

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

(first chapter) (previous chapter) (next chapter)

Chapter Twenty-One: morning sun

He has a lot of thoughts on poetry. Poetry, he often finds, is just music without the tune. The rhythm is there already, and the words can be their own melody, if they’re written right, with a shape and a contour and a buildup and a decrescendo. He knows poetry. And poetry can tell stories, too, can tell whole narratives, can show a hero’s journey from the beginning to the bitter, bitter end, because something he noted a long time ago is that in the old stories, the old poems, in the meter and rhyme, there are few heroes who get happy endings. There are few stories that end with the hero growing old and finding peace. The heroes in the stories he was drawn to, the stories that Technoblade told him as they grew from children to lanky teenagers to adults, the heroes in those stories come to tragic ends.

So, he knows poetry.

Is there poetry in death?

Once, he would have said yes. Once, he would have said that death, perhaps, after a long fight, after a struggle lost, after all the world goes caving in and the hero stands alone knowing how far he has fallen, knowing there is only so much further to go, knowing that every cliff has its bottom and every sea its floor, after all of that—once, he might have said that death, after all of that, was the most poetic thing of all.

But he thinks he knows better now. He thinks that death is not poetry at all. He thinks that death is pain and suffering and hurting those who were left behind, and death is an ending that cannot

(is usually not, and perhaps he needs to examine that, too, needs to start considering himself lucky for the second chance that no one else ever gets, because he gasped back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes and there has been so much pain since then but there has been beauty and now revelation)

be revised once the pen has left the paper, and all the best stories are edited before they are consumed.

But life is not a story, and he is a person, not a role, even if that thought turns everything upside-down, forces him to consider everything he thought he knew about the axis on which the world spins.

And dying cannot be poetry, because he thinks he is dying, and there is nothing lovely about it at all. Not now.

(and not then, either, though you were not ready to know it)

“Shut up, you’re not fucking dying,” Tommy says, and with the words come a wash of cold clarity, focus that he clings to desperately. It might be a mistake, because the pain comes back to the forefront, too, sharp and everywhere and overwhelming and he wants to retreat from it, and he thinks he’s going to retreat from it, if it keeps on like this, so it’s a matter of how long he can manage to hold on.

He’s only just recovered his footing. He’s not going to let himself slip away. Not when he’s only just figured out he wants to keep standing.

And then his heart spasms, sending a burst of hot pain ricocheting in his chest, and he is reminded that he might not have a choice in the matter. He tries to draw in breath, and finds his airways blocked. He tastes iron on his tongue. He tries to draw in breath, and he can’t, and his lungs are burning, burning—

“Turn his head,” Tubbo says sharply, “turn it, he’s choking—”

Someone wrenches his head to the side. He coughs, once, twice, and then he’s wracked with them, curling in on himself as best he can, hands coming up to clutch at his chest, his throat, and he can feel the blood spilling from his mouth, pooling in his cheek and splattering on his lips. Blood. It waters the vines, the vines that are turning to dust. The blood vines are watered, and nothing at all happens, because the vines are dead.

The vines are dead, and he is dying, because he’s pretty sure that his internal organs are all giving out.

“He’s coughing up blood,” Fundy says, near hysterically, “why is he coughing up blood, what’s wrong with him—?”

“The Egg hurts you when you hurt it,” Tommy answers, matching his tone, his high pitch, his fear. “The Egg—and I fucking forgot, oh my god, why did I let him do it, we should’ve figured this would happen—”

“Does anyone have pots?” Tubbo demands. “Does anyone have pots, because I don’t.”

“I didn’t grab any,” Fundy says, “it all happened so fast, I didn’t think to grab any—”

“Wait, shit, I’ve got one,” Tommy says. “Here, c’mon.”

He feels hands on him, gently pushing him out of the position he’s folded himself into. And then, he’s leveraged to sit more upright, and he groans, something in his abdomen screaming in protest at the shift. He doesn’t have the strength to keep his head up, so he lets it fall back, and it hits someone’s chest. He’s propped up against someone, and as his vision clears, just a bit, he sees Fundy crouched to one side, hands hovering over him, and Tommy kneeling right by him, tugging on the cork of a potion, so it’s Tubbo that he’s leaning against.

“Here, Wilbur, just,” Tommy starts, and then the glass is being held to his lips. He parts his lips compliantly, and he feels the liquid slide across his tongue, but there’s too much blood in his throat for it to go down smoothly, and in the next second, he’s coughing again, sputtering, trying to suck air into a throat that’s too clogged and lungs that won’t quite inflate. He jerks, and Tubbo’s arms come up from behind him, grabbing his shoulders and holding him steady even as his body tries to escape the inescapable.

“C’mon, Wil, please,” Tommy says, and his eyes are wide and so very blue, and there’s a sheen across them. Tears. He’s making Tommy cry. “Please, you’ve got to swallow.”

He can’t get in a good enough breath to be able to tell him that he’s trying, that he would very much like to swallow, it’s only that absolutely nothing seems to be cooperating with him at the moment. But surely Tommy knows that, knows that he would if he could, and he’ll keep trying, even though—even though everything hurts, and really, there’s no other way to put it than that. Everything hurts, every inch of him, like his skin is being stretched too tight and he’s boiling from the inside out.

(but then again, Tommy doesn’t know the realization he’s just come to, he just sees his brother limp on the ground and fading away before his eyes and coughing up the potion he’s given him, coughing up what might be the best chance they have to save him, and that is what Tommy sees, so is there any wonder that he automatically assumes that)

No. No, he needs Tommy to know. He needs all of them to know that he doesn’t want this, that he doesn’t want to go, that he’s not giving up.

Tommy presses the potion to his lips again, desperate, insistent. He parts them again, and this time, some of it goes down. A bit goes down the wrong pipe, in fact, setting him to coughing again, but that burn is nothing compared to everything else. He can feel the magic begin to take effect right away, racing inside of him, trying to repair what has been broken and torn apart, and because he can feel it at work, he can feel exactly what’s wrong, can feel it try to patch holes inside of him that the Egg’s death throes ripped open, can feel it surrounding his heart, trying to encourage it to beat in a steady rhythm again, can feel it in his lungs, trying to reopen one that has half-collapsed. He can feel it all, and he knows that even if he managed to down the whole flask, it wouldn’t be enough. Not for this.

Because magic can only do so much. Because magic only goes so far.

Despair pools in his chest along with the fire, but he bucks against it, because he doesn’t want

(he doesn’t want to die and it took him so long to decide as much to understand himself enough to realize it and he doesn’t want to die but his body is giving out even as he fights to stay and this cannot be how it ends, it cannot be, because the world is cruel and the world is unfair but he cannot believe that it would be so unjust as this, so unjust as to take away what he has only just realized he wants to keep)

(but then again, the world does not often listen, does not often care for what is good and what is fair, because the world simply is, and that was a lesson he learned long ago, chased from the podium, the arrow in his back, betrayal and desperation playing a counterpoint melody, and it would never have happened if fairness was something the world at large took into consideration)

(but then again, does the universe not listen, when it well and truly counts? though to say as much would be to imply that it never counted before, when it did, did and still does, still does, because perhaps he can heal if given the chance but he will not forget and neither will anyone else)

to die. He doesn’t want to die. And if ever there was a moment to fight against despair, to fight against despair and win, for once, it is now. It is now.

“I’m trying,” he gasps out, and then immediately has to stop, has to struggle for air again, his chest heaving. He’s shaking, his bones trying to flee his skin.

“I know,” Tommy says. “I know, just come on—” The potion is back, and it’s the last of it, and he manages to force down some more. His vision sharpens, his breathing becoming just ever so slightly easier, but it’s not going to be enough. His heart falters, skips several beats, sends deep pangs shooting through his ribcage, and he knows it’s not going to be enough.

“I am trying,” he insists, as soon as he has enough air for it, “I am, I don’t—I don’t want to go—”

He coughs. Something inside him shifts, grating against other things, and fuck but that hurts, and there’s blood dribbling down his lips again. Hot and sticky. Damning.

“Okay, okay, that’s good, you’re not going anywhere,” Tommy says, “you’re not, we’re not gonna let that happen—”

“Comms are still down,” Fundy says. “I’m not getting through to anyone. Should I—should I go and get someone? I’m a fast runner, I can make it there and back.”

No.

No, no, he—it makes sense, what Fundy is suggesting, but he doesn’t want his son to leave him, because what if he leaves and he—he never gets to tell him all the things he wants to say, all the things he should have said a long, long time ago, what if he leaves and the last that Wilbur sees of him is his retreating back and that’s all, that’s all there is for either of them, what if he dies here and now and he never gets to—

(a scene, imagined: the sun setting over the water, a warm, lazy breeze rustling his hair, and they are sitting side by side, quiet and companionable, and they are fishing, their lures bobbing together in the lake, and all is not fixed and all is not forgotten but there is peace and forgiveness and an opportunity to repair the once-burnt bridge and he wants that he wants he wants)

He moves his arm. The first time, it flops back down uselessly, but he tries again, expends far more effort than he should, and he hooks his fingers into Fundy’s sleeve. Fundy stills, and Wilbur looks at him. Really looks. Meets his eyes and keeps his gaze there. And he doesn’t know what he looks like, doesn’t know how bad he must appear at the moment, but though there is worry on his son’s face, there is something else there, too, something more complicated.

“Wil?” Fundy says softly.

He might not get another chance for this.

“I love you,” he says, and he can feel the words sliding into each other even as they leave his mouth, but he hopes he’s comprehensible. He prays, because he needs Fundy to know this. “I love you, and—I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry. I wanted to be better this ti—”

His heart squeezes, like it’s doing its level best to collapse in on itself, and he breaks off with a strangled squawking sort of noise. And Fundy makes an odd noise of his own.

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re not—you’re going to be fine. Stop talking like you’re going to—you can’t leave again, okay, you can’t do this to me again, you can’t—”

He’s hurting his son. Hurting his son just like he has all along, and he’s powerless to stop it, powerless once again. And there is some measure of gladness in it, in knowing that Fundy does not want him dead, but he is hurting him, hurting him when he never wanted to do so again. When all he really wanted was a chance to make things better, if he could. If he would be allowed.

He tightens his grip on Fundy’s sleeve. Fundy’s face shutters, and then he reaches over with his other hand and pries his fingers off, and Wilbur thinks that actually he might die right here and now.

Except then, Fundy takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, clutching them tightly. He tries to squeeze back and only manages a flutter, but it’s enough.

(because all is not well between you and perhaps it never will be, but know this, know that your son still loves you)

“I’m so sorry,” Tubbo says suddenly, and he can’t crane his neck to look at him, so he has to settle for listening to the words. “If I hadn’t used the totem, maybe—”

“Oh my god, don’t fucking say that,” Tommy snaps, and Wilbur quite agrees, because if Tubbo hadn’t used the totem, then perhaps this would feel very different, and perhaps he would not be terrified of the sensation of his life slipping away from him, because he would have death’s most effective preventative measure resting in his hand, waiting for his heart to still in order to repair the damage. But if Tubbo hadn’t used the totem—and he didn’t see exactly what happened, occupied as he was, but he can guess well enough from the still-present echoes of terror on Tommy’s face—then Tubbo would be dead. And that is not an acceptable loss.

“It’s the truth,” Tubbo insists.

“No,” he forces out, “no, that wouldn’t—that wouldn’t be any better—”

And then, his muscles seize. His back arches, and he hears himself cry aloud, and then the world goes away for a bit.

When it all returns, it crashes in on him at once, and he feels disoriented, exhausted, like his brain is seeking anything recognizable, anything to help make sense of what’s happening, and coming up with nothing. It takes a moment for him to remember where he is, what’s just happened, and even then, he feels dazed, almost outside of himself. He still hurts, but it’s distant. Like it’s happening to someone else.

He’s lying fully on the ground. There’s something soft under his head. A jacket? There is no one holding his hand, and a low keen rips itself from his throat. But no one’s listening—sound filters back in, and it takes effort to parse the voices from each other, speaking over themselves as they are.

“—going,” Fundy is saying, and Fundy, Fundy, he’d like Fundy to come back and be next to him, but he forces his head to flop to the side and sees that Fundy is standing now, standing with the rest of them. “I’m going, we need help, he’s—he’s literally dying right now—”

“He’s not fucking dying,” Tommy says, “would you stop saying that, he’s not—”

“If you’re gonna go get help, then go and hurry up up about it,” Tubbo is saying at the same time, and—

That’s right. He’s dying. He might have just had a seizure. That’s probably what that was. Caused by—seizures can be caused by traumatic brain things, right? Injuries? Having the Egg fucking around in there probably counts, and even beside that, he felt it die, felt it as the power of the universe flowed through the sword in its hand and tore it apart, even as it took him down with it.

(and there are some things that a mortal mind is not meant for, and surely, surely, the universe in its glory and its infinity is one of them and yet it is in your head always humming always there and it will not leave even when you do not pay it heed)

So that’s that. He’s just had a seizure, and he thinks his body’s gotten to the point where it’s given up on trying to fix anything, because the pain is fading, fading back into numbness, as if all his nerves have collectively decided that this situation is a little too fucked up and there’s nothing they can do, no point in working on it anymore. No point in signaling that anything’s wrong when nothing’s being fixed.

He’s dying.

(he doesn’t want to go)

“No way he gets back in time,” someone says. “You’ve got minutes at most.”

He’s not sure who spoke, but he agrees. Short of a miracle, he’s—he’s dying, and he wants to cry, because he doesn’t want to go. His surroundings blur.

He’s alone. Why isn’t anyone next to him? They’re standing, around him but not with him, talking to each other, voices so frantic and scared, and they’re just kids, and it’s so unfair that any of this is being put on them at all, and he doesn’t blame them for it, of course, but he thinks that if anyone was going to go for help, it should have been done right away. Not now. It’s not going to do any good now.

If he’s going to die, he doesn’t want to be alone.

(he intended to die alone, at the end of it all. he intended for himself to be the only one to be hurt. that’s one of the only reasons why he didn’t blow it all to hell sooner, because people were there, people talked him down, people like Quackity, people like Tommy, and they didn’t talk him out of wanting to do it but their presence reminded him that he didn’t want them to be hurt, he only wanted himself to hurt, because that was what was fair and that was what was right)

(but he didn’t die alone, at the end of it all. Phil held him, and he felt a little less afraid under all that relief, and the last thing he remembers from that day is warmth overwhelming, and if he’s going to die again, he doesn’t want to be cold, alone, alone)

He tries to talk, to say something, but he really is having trouble breathing now. His chest rises and falls in quick, short pants, too shallow to supply enough oxygen, too little to support his voice. He tries to move to get their attention, but his limbs don’t respond to his commands.

And then, Fundy’s taking off, running for the entrance, and no, no, no—

He finally manages to meet Tommy’s gaze. Tommy’s crouched by him again in an instant, and Tubbo is, too, grabbing his hand, and he’s glad of it, glad for the contact, but—

“It’s okay,” Tommy tells him. “You’re gonna be fine, Wilbur, Fundy’s gonna go get someone, and they’ll bring more pots, and, and another totem, too—”

His vision is darkening. He wants Fundy to come back. His heartbeats are growing more erratic, slower, weaker.

“Tommy,” Tubbo says, voice small, and stops. Tommy goes silent for a moment.

“No,” he says, then, and his voice is a sob. Wilbur wants to comfort him. He can’t move. “No, no, this isn’t fair—”

He knows. He knows, and he can’t do a thing about it.

“I—” he manages, pushing the word out with what little air is circulating through his lungs. “I don’t want—”

He can’t finish.

“I know you don’t want to go,” Tommy says, “I know, so, so you won’t, you won’t, you’re going to be fine—”

“We’re here, Wilbur,” Tubbo says. “We’re right here.”

He’s glad. He wants to stay with them.

“Jesus, Wilbur.” There’s that voice again. Not Tommy’s, not Tubbo’s. Soft and exasperated, and perhaps a little bit concerned, but he’s not sure. His ability to think, to reason, is slipping from his grasp, and one some level, that terrifies him, but on another, he can no longer care. “You giving up?”

The peculiar combination of derision and amusement is familiar. He opens his eyes; he hadn’t realized he’d closed them. Above him, a face hovers, upside-down from his vantage point. Dark hair, scruff, chipped horns, a blue sweater. Schlatt.

How long has he been here?

“Is this how you’re gonna go out?” Schlatt asks him. “Taken out by a—whatever the hell this was? You know, I’m still not clear on that. None of you assholes ever explained it to me. Some kind of demon bullshit. But you’re just gonna let this happen?”

Somehow, his voice cuts through the haze that’s filled his mind, cuts through even where Tommy and Tubbo’s voices have blended together, becoming one with the background. Perhaps it’s the sudden burst of annoyance, an energy he thought he no longer had; of course he’s not letting this happen. There’s just not a whole lot he can do to fight against acute organ failure. Does he look as if he planned this?

“You don’t want to go, though,” Schlatt says. “I heard that. Good on you, I guess. Deciding that life’s worth something after all. I’m real proud.”

He tries to glare at him. He has no idea whether his face is doing anything or not. If it is, he hopes that the boys don’t think he’s mad at them.

“Okay,” Schlatt says. “Okay, you know what? Let’s give this a try. You’re a real jackass, though, you know that? I want to make sure you know that. I need you to remember that to the end of your days. I want you to put it on your tombstone when you do finally kick it. Here lies Wilbur Soot, he was a real jackass.”

He doesn’t understand what Schlatt is trying to say. He’s rambling, as if to himself. And the world is sliding away again.

(he’s trying to hold on but there’s only so much he can do if the entire cliff face gives way there’s only so much he can do to fight against it there’s only so much)

But then, he feels it. The tether. The rope that binds them. The trailing connection. It opens up, pulling like gravity on his heart, and there’s that familiar sensation, energy leaving him, flowing down the line, except this is energy that he truly doesn’t have to spare, and the last embers of his panic flare up again, because surely Schlatt can feel it, can feel that he has nothing to give, that this is only going to kill him quicker, within seconds if he keeps this up and he may not have much of a chance here but he doesn’t need Schlatt making it worse—

“Holy shit!” he hears Tubbo say, backed up by, “What the fuck are you doing?” from Tommy an instant later. He can’t see them. He can’t see anything. Their voices are far away, and he’s trying to reach them, but he’s falling, and he can’t stop it, can’t stop himself, and the void is close.

(and he’s scared)

“Hey Tubbo,” he hears Schlatt say. Distantly, from a long way away, and getting quieter. Everything is dim. He’s floating. “You deserved better than me, kid, you really did.” A pause. “Tell Fundy the same thing, would you?”

His heart beats. Once. Twice. And then does not beat again. He’d be in pain if he could still feel it. But it’s all gone. All falling away, and the void is close, the void is reaching out to him, and he is—

And then, the tether reverses.

Energy flows back into him. What Schlatt took, and somehow, inextricably—more.

He slams back into himself all at once, gasping for air, back arching off the ground as he is hit with—everything. Sensation, in his fingers, in his toes. Pain, in every inch of him, every atom. Lungs that inflate, barely at first and then more fully. Ruptured places repairing themselves. A heart that starts again, and beats, beats, beats.

“C’mon,” Schlatt is muttering, over and over, and though Tommy and Tubbo are still talking, it’s the only voice he can latch onto. “C’mon, c’mon.” His hand is splayed across Wilbur’s chest, firm and solid, pressing down. “C’mon.”

He has sight again. Schlatt is still there, is still leaning over him, strain written on every line of his face, and Wilbur doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand what he’s doing, doesn’t understand where this energy is coming from, doesn’t understand how it’s—healing him. It’s healing him. Though—Schlatt is a ghost, is usually intangible, has to rely on Wilbur’s lifeforce if he wants to do anything, but perhaps that doesn’t mean Schlatt has none of his own. Perhaps it’s just not enough to sustain him. Perhaps it’s not enough to form him a body, not enough to create life from death.

But perhaps it’s enough for this.

Just as he works through it, Schlatt loses his solidity. His hand slips down, passing through Wilbur’s chest, and he shudders at the sensation, tingling and cold. But Schlatt doesn’t pull away, and the energy keeps flowing, and then, Schlatt starts to flicker, his form wavering in and out of reality.

And finally, Wilbur thinks he understands.

(reciprocity is something they both know well, and a connection once opened can flow both ways)

“You’re giving too much,” he says, though he’s practically mouthing the words, so thin is his voice.

“Yeah, well,” Schlatt says, his voice echoing and distant and staticky. Like a snowfall. “Maybe I want you to prove me wrong.”

Prove him wrong?

(a sunny day, flowers twisted absently in his hands, blue flowers to match the blue sweater, blue sky above, and Schlatt’s voice saying, people like us don’t change, and he once believed that, believed that his role was set and there was no going back, and he believed that for Schlatt as well, believed that for the both of them there could be no redemption, but now he isn’t so sure, and he looks into Schlatt’s eyes and he thinks that perhaps)

“Schlatt,” he whispers, and Schlatt gives him a long look. Hard, but not cruel, measured, but not mocking, considering, not dismissive. And perhaps, just perhaps, there is a little bit of regret there, too.

(regret for the boys they once were, full of life and ideas and hope, tongues sharp and minds sharper, and what good friends they used to be, in the days of their youths when they were free and unburdened and war was a tale from the past and politics a distant future and betrayal a joke and a game, when they were young, when they were young)

“Prove me wrong, Wilbur,” Schlatt says, and then, he is gone. He winks out of existence, and there is no shimmer of blue in the air, no feeling of being watched, of eyes on him, and the tether breaks, snaps apart, and he lets out a soundless shout as the backlash hits him, like a rubber band snapping back into place. The energy stops, and there is nothing in its place, and he reaches out, instinctively, searching, and finds nothing. Where the ghost was, there is blank space. Only the world, and no hum of the stars.

(the hum of the stars is in your mind and your mind only and you are alone inside of it and there is no other not anymore)

And he is alive.

“What the fuck,” Tommy is saying. His hands paw at his neck, pressing up to find his pulse, and Wilbur can feel it. The touch is warm. “What the hell did he do to you, that fucker—Wilbur? Wilbur, c’mon, answer me, man, are you still—”

“Here,” he says, and Tommy falls silent. “I’m here.”

He is here. He is lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and the vines are still turning to dust above him. He is here, and he hurts, still, deeply and acutely, every inch of him aching, but his heart beats steadily, his lungs expand when he breathes, and there is no catch in his throat, no urge to cough, no churning in his stomach, no convulsions wracking him, and his vision is clear.

“Wilbur?” Tubbo asks. His voice shakes.

“I’m here,” he says again. “I’m not going. I’m still here.”

“Oh my god,” Tommy says, and then, Tommy’s all but on top of him, lying on his chest, wrapping his arms around him, knocking the breath right out of him, and Tubbo follows a short second behind, taking up all of the space that Tommy isn’t. He wheezes, but it’s a good sort of wheeze, even if it hurts. It definitely hurts. But he’s hardly about to get them to stop.

They pile on him, grabbing onto him like their lives depend upon it,

(or like his life depends upon it)

and he feels warm, and present, and here. Still here.

(safe)

(alive)

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. That’s about all the volume he can manage; his throat feels shredded. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“You’d better be sorry,” Tommy chokes out. “I thought you were gonna die.”

“I thought I was too,” he says. “But I didn’t want to. I fought it, I swear. I don’t want to go. I mean that.” They’re on top of his arms, pinning them. He gives them a nudge, experimentally, but they don’t give an inch, so he’s going to have to settle for not hugging them, apparently. “I’m staying right here. I don’t want to die.”

The words are novel. He thinks he’d like to say them over and over again, just to test them out, to feel the truth in them. He doesn’t want to die, and more than that, he rather thinks he wants to live. What a revolutionary thing it is, to want to live.

“You dickhead,” Tommy mutters, and buries his face in his shirt, which becomes damp in short order. He won’t call him on it.

“Please don’t do that again, though,” Tubbo says. “That was actively terrifying.”

He manages a laugh. The sound of it surprises him. “I’m not planning on it,” he says.

Despite the heavy weight of two teenage boys resting on him, he feels lighter than he has in weeks. Since he woke up in that forest, rain falling on his face, and turned to the arctic, to the snow and the tundra and the promise of family that he didn’t know how to feel about, the promise of a family that was scattered and broken into too many pieces. Since seeing his brother again a scarce day later, standing in the rain, the notes of the guitar fading in the air. Since the Egg, since the prison, since arguments and tentative reconciliations and everything that’s happened between now and then. And the thoughts still lurk. He can sense them in the shadows of his mind, ready to swell forth again, ready to tell him all about what he deserves and how he will be betrayed and how everyone hates him and he hates himself but for now—

For now, in this moment, he wants to live, and he wants to live well, and he pushes aside the whispers of what he deserves and lets himself be, and lets himself love.

(and lets himself be loved)

And then: footsteps. Several pairs, rushing down the corridor. He can’t get a good look, and the boys don’t seem inclined to take much notice, either. But he has a feeling as to who it is, and his suspicion is confirmed a moment later, as Fundy’s voice floats toward him, saying, “—bad, I mean, it’s really bad, I really think he’s literally dying, and I don’t, I just don’t—” He sounds as though he’s been keeping up this litany for some time, perhaps more as something to say than anything else, something to focus on, something to distract him a bit. His voice gets closer, and then stops. “Oh my god, is he dead?” His voice pitches upward, and overlaps with a sharp inhalation—Phil’s, he recognizes.

So there’s only one thing to do.

“Help,” he rasps, “I’m being crushed.”

There is a long moment of silence, and he almost wishes that Tommy and Tubbo would get up so that he could see the looks on their faces. Almost, but not quite. He’s content to stay like this for a good while longer.

“Oh my god, he’s alive,” Fundy says, and there is a sharp exhalation, also from Phil.

“You fucks,” Phil says, relief audible. “Do you know how scared I was?”

“I wasn’t,” Techno says. “I wasn’t worried at all.”

Finally, Tommy stirs, lifting his face from his chest and glaring off in the direction of the entrance. He also lifts a hand and flips them off.

“Fuck off,” he says. “We’ve just had a traumatic experience, we have. Are you going to stand there and be—and be twats, or did you bring anything useful? Like—” He stops, looking back down at him. His face is vaguely tear-stained, though Wilbur’s pretty sure that most of it is in his shirt. “Do you still need some pots? Or did—what the hell did he even do, anyway? How did that—you were definitely dying, and then he was there, all, all like that, and then he disappeared and you were better. What did he do?”

“Changed, I think,” he murmurs, and judging from the expression on Tommy’s face, he doesn’t get it. But that’s alright.

“Okay,” Phil says, and then he’s sweeping toward them and kneeling. His wings are on full display, he notes, no effort at all put toward hiding them, and maybe it doesn’t really mean anything, but he can’t help but feel glad. Phil should never have to hide his wings, no matter what condition they’re in. “Alright—here, Tubbo, could you move over a bit?”

Tubbo shifts off of him, too, his breathing unsteady. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed to match Tommy’s. He doesn’t say anything, just shuffles to the side so that he’s sitting next to Tommy. Phil shoots a quick smile at him, one that’s probably supposed to be reassuring but comes off as strained, and then, his hands are on Wilbur’s shoulders.

“You think you can sit up, Wil?” he asks, and Wilbur tries. He tries, but immediately gives it up as a lost cause as all his core muscles cry out in immediate protest.

“Sitting up ability is currently on strike, I believe,” he says, and Phil’s brow furrows in concern, but he takes it in stride. Behind him, Fundy and Techno are both hovering—though Fundy’s far more obvious about it. It is a bit funny how they’re both doing it, though, and the contrast between them, Techno’s bulk and general everything next to Fundy’s fidgeting. Fundy keeps casting glances at Techno, too, nervous ones.

Phil pulls him into an upright position, and he moans, his head swimming for a second before the lightheadedness abates. He hunches forward, letting gravity pull him back down a little; he thinks he’d flop over like a ragdoll if it weren’t for Phil steadying him.

“Where are you hurt the worst?” Phil asks, voice quiet. “Fundy said you were coughing up blood. And that you had a seizure, I’m guessing, judging from what he told us.”

He can still taste it on his tongue. Sharp iron. And his limbs are all very sore.

“A bit everywhere,” he admits. “I’m pretty sure all my organs were giving out on me at once, so I don’t think there’s one specific area that needs attention.” Phil’s expression widens into open dismay at that, and something very much like fear, and perhaps he shouldn’t have phrased it quite like that. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so blasé about his imminent death in front of the man who he begged to take his third life and definitely emotionally scarred in the process. But he’s still a bit wrapped up in the fact that he’s alive at all, alive and glad to be so.

“Okay,” Phil says, in a way that implies he definitely does not think that it’s okay, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Okay. That’s—okay. Do you think you could get down a regen?”

He pulls a face, but nods. Regen potions have never been his favorite; their magic is rough, unsubtle, far more concerned with function over comfort. But he likely needs one, or two, or several, or as many as his body can keep down, because he is alive, but probably far from alright, still; the continuing ache is evidence enough of that, and he’s fairly certain that if he tried to stand, he would tip over immediately. Phil has no reservations, bringing out a pot from his inventory and holding it up to him, a mirror of Tommy’s actions a minute before. Only this time, he brings up a shaking hand to help support the glass, even if he can’t hold its full weight, and he swallows all of it without coughing.

It gets to work. He winces, and then decides that he’s been on the ground long enough. The energy from the pot is more than enough for him to attempt to get up.

“Whoa,” Phil says, “wait, Wilbur—”

He’s up. His vision blacks out for a second, but when it clears, he’s still up, if woozy. He imagines he might need help to walk any significant distance, but he won’t need to be carried, at least. Which is nice. Being carried is undignified.

“You should absolutely not be standing up,” Tommy snaps, and he raises an eyebrow.

“And yet,” he says, spreading his arms. Once again, he gets the impression that he’s being far more casual about all of this than he should be. He imagines that it will hit him later, the horror of it, seeing Niki’s face twisted in rage, letting the Egg inside his mind once again, almost being unable to pull himself out, almost dying right after he figured out that he didn’t want to. It will all his him, he’s sure, but for now, he would like to walk out of here under his own power, his family by his side, everyone alive and unharmed, the trouble dealt with at last. “I’m alright. I actually mean that. I’m not going to keel over.”

He inhales. Wrinkles his nose. Actually, it doesn’t smell very nice in here.

“Is the rest handled?” he asks, glancing at Phil. Phil is standing very close to him, wings flared, likely ready to catch him if he needs it. He won’t, though he appreciates the gesture.

“We felt the Egg go,” Phil says. “It was like—like the world itself distorted for a second, and then patched itself back up. We were already on our way here when Fundy came to get us. In a nutshell, yes, it’s handled. Dream was still up when we left, but the rest of the Egg people just sort of—stopped. And nobody on our side went down hard. Eret and Puffy got the worst of it, but they’ll both be fine, last I saw.”

“But Dream was still up,” he says. Beside him, Tommy’s shoulders hunch.

“Not for long,” Techno says. His gaze is fixed behind them, on the Egg. “We would’ve stayed if we weren’t sure of it.” His eyes drift to Tommy’s for a second. “The others are handlin’ it. But we can go see.” And then, to Tubbo: “The totem came in handy.” A statement, not a question.

“Yes,” Tubbo says, expression inscrutable. “It did. Thank you, Technoblade.”

Techno shrugs. “I gave it to be used,” he says dryly. “Let’s not make a habit of it.” And that is a Techno way of saying you’re welcome, of burying the hatchet as much as he is able, and it’s not nearly enough, but it’s a first step. And then, Techno literally steps forward, and Wilbur is a little too concerned with the way that Tubbo stiffens to notice exactly what his intent is, which is why it takes him by surprise when Techno takes his head in his hands and presses their foreheads together.

Just for a second. But it’s an old gesture, a familiar gesture, and not one that he ever expected to receive again. His breath catches.

(you were kids the first time he did this, the first time he butted his head against yours, impossibly gentle, tender in a way you hadn’t realized Techno knew how to be, and it wasn’t until later that Phil explained it to you, explained piglin instincts and the concept of a sounder and how Techno always, always feels far more than he lets on, and always, always cares, perhaps too much, and he still does, despite everything, he still does)

And then, Techno walks forward, past them, to the husk of the Egg that lies behind, and the moment is over. But it was there. It was there, when it didn’t have to be, when Techno would still be well within his rights to hold back from them, from him, to keep his distance. But here he is, displaying open affection, and he’s not naive enough to think that means it’s all fixed, but—

Hope is a dangerous thing, but he feels in the mood to indulge. And beside him, Tubbo relaxes, and Tommy, just for a second, wears an expression that suggests a bit of hope of his own.

He turns to watch Techno as he roots through the dust, a crumbling, greyed-out monument that barely holds any shape. A reminder, and nothing more. An empty shell, and that, too, will disintegrate soon enough, leaving a room of dust and lava pools, and statues long abandoned.

Techno huffs. Reaches down. And from the middle of the Egg, he pulls out—

“Is that fucking Skeppy,” Tommy states, flat as a fucking pancake.

He blinks. Because it—is. Somehow. Fucking Skeppy. Though he looks different; parts of him are the same blue, but many patches are discolored, greyish white, and as Techno hoists him up, Wilbur thinks he sees red slipping off of him, like runny paint.

“Oh my god,” Tubbo says. “Was the Egg Skeppy this whole time?”

“I was wonderin’ where this guy got off to,” Techno says, and throws Skeppy across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, apparently unconcerned. “He hadn’t been by to bother me in a while. And BadBoyHalo kind of just sat down and started cryin’ about him, which, I won’t lie, I had no idea how to handle, not my area, but I thought he might be here. Are we leavin’ these two here, or takin’ them?”

Niki and Jack. Both on the ground, chests rising and falling. Free of the Egg, now, but he’s not sure where that leaves them. Though it would likely be—

“Leave ‘em,” Tommy says, startlingly vehement. “Just, we’ll come back, leave ‘em here for now.”

“I don’t think he meant to,” Tubbo says quietly. “I think it just happened really fast.”

“Don’t care,” Tommy says. “Leave ‘em.”

He looks back and forth between them. Gold still dances across Tubbo’s skin. And he wasn’t turned around, didn’t see what happened, but he thinks he can guess, based on everything, based on Niki’s sword at Tommy’s throat and Jack pinning Tubbo to the ground, based on their desperate, misdirected need for vengeance and the way Jack shouted and a boy who would do just about anything to ensure Tommy’s safety. Hears I don’t think he meant to, and thinks about other times, darker times,

(and meaning does not always matter, because intent is washed away in impact, and he never meant to hurt them)

and he decides not to ask. Not now. Not yet. Though it should be addressed. A lot of things should be addressed, a lot of things that they have not, yet, because there has been no time, because everything has been moving at a breakneck pace, but the pace will be slower now. The pace will be slower, and they will have time.

He looks to Fundy. Fundy stares back, not saying anything at all. His eyes are wet.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” Fundy murmurs. Quiet enough that he doesn’t think anyone else hears it.

“Me too,” he says. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

A start. A first step. There are so many of those that still need to be taken. For now, Fundy’s lips curl into what might be the ghost of a smile.

They will have time.

***

The scene they return to is this: some are standing, some are sitting, all gathered in the courtyard of the castle. The gates lie wide open. The vines are gone. The sun is rising.

There is Eret, standing tall, though blood still runs down from a wound on their shoulder and another long gash on their arm. Their crown is blood splattered, their glasses still perched on their nose, though slipping down, and Wilbur glances away before he can take in something he’s not meant to see. There is Puffy, kneeling, her blood on the grass around her; it is her leg that is wounded, though it is difficult to tell how badly. There is Sam, shifting, uncertain, a lost look in his eyes as his fingers flex around his trident. There is Purpled, on the outskirts, on guard but perhaps an ally, though he has no reason to be. There is BadBoyHalo, sitting, curled into himself, tears running down his face, which is less ashen. The other members of the Eggpire cluster around him, seemingly in various states of shock. None of them move. They are mostly ignored.

There is Ranboo, also sitting. His eyes are wide. Tears are streaming down his face, too, and a bit of steam rises from his skin. He pays no mind. He’s trembling, occasionally gasping for breath through a sob.

There is Quackity, still standing, hands clutched around an axe like it’s the best protection he knows how to have. He wonders if there’s any truth to that; Quackity has never been one for fighting, though he tries.

(he wonders if Schlatt wanted to say anything to him, too. wonders if it would have done more harm than good)

And then there is Dream, lying on the ground. There is George, crouched by his side. There is Sapnap, kneeling, all his weight on the sword piercing Dream’s chest. Dream’s chest rises and falls, shallow and slow, and nobody moves. Sapnap’s face is flushed, tears in his eyes, and whether they are from anger or grief, he can’t tell.

Dark smoke puffs out from under Dream’s mask and dissipates in the air. Tommy makes a small sound, and Wilbur fits his hand into his. Tommy doesn’t look at him, doesn’t look away from the sight in front of them, but his fingers curl around his.

Sapnap moves as if to draw the sword out. Dream’s hand comes up and wraps around the hilt, stopping him.

“No,” Dream says, voice a reedy whisper, free of shadow. “You need to be sure it’s gone.”

And so they stay. The only sound is crying, and Sapnap’s harsh breaths, hitched and desperate. Both angry and grieving at once. George’s hands inch forward until they’re curled into Dream’s hoodie. It’s like a painting, the three of them. The sun crests the walls of the castle, and the rays fall on them like a caress, and the smoke stops appearing. The sigils carved into the sword dim.

Dream stops breathing. Quietly, and without fanfare. Like a sigh.

As one, more than a dozen communicators chime.

Tommy exhales shakily.

(is this closure? is this what he wanted? he doesn’t know, but there is no going back, no going back to the old days, when they were all still friends and the war was a game)

(and after everything that Dream did perhaps it feels wrong that this should end so abruptly or that he should not shove the sword in his chest himself for what he did to Tommy or that Tommy should have no say in his fate but at the same time perhaps it is right and perhaps this is the way the circle breaks at last)

Techno sighs, walks over to where Bad sits, and dumps Skeppy in front of him. As if a spell has been broken, Tubbo moves, too, crossing to Ranboo and crouching before him, speaking to him in low tones. Several others start moving, like the world was on pause and has only just resumed. Sapnap draws the sword from Dream’s chest, but he remains there, kneeling by the body.

Dream looks peaceful. Though with his mask still on, it’s impossible to tell. No one motions to remove it.

Tommy presses close to him. On the other side, Fundy steps closer. Against his back, he feels one of Phil’s wings brush against all of them, a promise of shelter, of safety. Perhaps this time, it will be kept.

Just like that, it is over. Can it be over?

(is it ever truly over?)

(but in every ending there is a beginning, and the world still spins, and the grass still grows, and the sky is still blue, and finally there is more reason to look forward than back)

The sun rises. Is rising, has risen, will rise again and again and again. And he’s lived to see it.

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fic #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tubbo #fundy #technoblade #philza #/rp #cat writes fic #long post #deep breaths everybody deep breaths

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ashes-in-a-jar · 4 years ago

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Tma relisten Episodes 11-15

So this round already has two other posts out of it about Oliver because he Bae.

These have alot of ideas regarding entities changing around reality, controlling non victims to set the stage, and turning around what people love most to their worst fear. Also insane abilities of the crew to obtain hard to access info and evidence! And some more Jon sass. Enjoy!

11 dreamer

Wow this episode had alot. I made a separate post with a theory about Oliver's statement here and a realization regarding him and Jane Prentiss here. They are alot to unpack

Oliver is so. Freaking. Relatable! Learned economics and hated it. Nearly had a breakdown like him because of it. "going to stay with some of the few friends that had survived my year of stress-fuelled outbursts and constantly cancelled plans." yep. That.

Boyfriend Graham ey? You notebook eating Graham?? Wow that guy is full of surprises.

I love the dream sequences and their descriptions it's a really beautiful thing to try and picture.

Its interesting how he went from passive to desparate to passive again about death. He tries but can't help. I wonder when the dreams started to bother him so much he sought after the silence of point Nemo. Was it when they became so full of red because of the apocalypse coming closer? Hmmm

Another person named John. I guess that makes sense it's a common name. But I forgot how many people are fully named in this podcast. Hundreds of names to come up with! Jonny I'm quite impressed!

He worked with Jane Prentiss in the magic shop! I can't believe I forgot about that! Wow small avatar world indeed.

"It led me to a room, the label of which was still visible, and read “Archive”. I entered to see walls covered with shelves and cabinets stretching off into the distance. These shelves were coated in a sticky black tar, which I knew at that moment was the thickened, pulpy blood that pumped through each and every one of those veins." everything that has to do with the Fears I bet. Full of death and destruction and stolen from the veins to be out on display for the Eye's pleasure.

Yo Jon is scared of this he's seriously considering going to Elias for advice

" I had Tim look into it, as I don’t entirely trust the others not to have written it as a practical joke" wait. He trusts TIM? Not to do a practical joke? How. Why. Eh?

"died in the line of duty" fuck you Jonah.

Now Jon will get every new statement immediately when it's made. Perhaps this was Elias' intention all along. To scare him into making sure he does not miss any paranormal activity recorded by the institute.

12 first aid

I'm not immune to more Gerry badassery, hell yeah

And we get polish Martin which hell yeah! Even if Jon doesn't believe it. I'm sure he's repressing the fact that he's thoroughly impressed.

I think it's really interesting the effect entities have on people who are decidedly not their victims. Everyone leaving no questions so the entity can set the scene for the scare. Like with Gillespie how no one lived in the apartment building he was in etc. Alot of work into a handful of people being genuinely scared.

Gerry's burns stopped at the neck? How did he manage that. Also it's hilarious to imagine that he's like "yes burn all of me but please. not my goth makeup"

Zippo lighter with eye design!! And Jon has web design! They are brothers (joke but still really interesting)

Liquids were boiling around her and she didn't feel the heat. Also an interesting effect just for the scare.

Gerry got eye superpowers like Jon if he can function while injure and filled with painkillers.

“Yes. For you, better beholding than the lightless flame.” Gerry knew she'd be haunted by a Fear from that day on and realised that perhaps being watched would be easier for her specifically to deal with than the Desolation. I guess that's a way of assessing people. Which fear would least bother you.

Jon is already enamoured with Gerry you can tell. He can't wait to hear more from him. Just you wait Jon.

They really can access alot of information huh. CCTV Interviews files. Pretty impressive for a non-research team. They're so good at it they'd rather do that than actual archiving.

13 alone

The sound editing in this episode is not that great it was a bit to get used to.

We get a glimpse at the Lukases which is... Ugh

Jon is actually trying to be nice. Granted it's not working and she is a bit of a standoffish person herself who just went through a bad time but alot of her reactions are not his fault. He was trying to be considerate giving her space to record but he did stay when she asked.

She had already leaned into the Lonely before the incident it's interesting to see how some of these statements start with a person actually liking the aspect that later turns to fear. Same happens in lost johns' cave.

Evan Lukas sounds like an avatar of the exact opposite of the Lonely. At least to her. That's a really interesting effect from someone, especially a Lukas.

But maybe dying wasn't his family killing him but him not feeding his patron which he tried to leave. Really tragic.

She was in Martin's domain eyyy!

It's got a bit of buried aspects to it with the grave stuff and all.

"My fingers dug into the soft cemetery dirt as I looked around desperately for anything I could use to save myself, and my hand closed upon that heavy piece of headstone. It took all my self-control to keep a grip on that anchor, as I slowly dragged myself away from the edge of my lonely grave." The headstone was her anchor? But it said forgotten. I wonder how it helped her pull away. It probably had to go together with Evan's voice. Like the rib and the tape recorders having to work together! I just wonder what meaning the stone had for her.

"I’d be tempted to chalk this one up to a hallucination from stress and trauma, if it wasn’t for the fact... " God he does believe her heavens. He's not a skeptic!

This is when Jon's dreams start which... Good luck Jon.

14 piecemeal

Rentoul is terrifying sonofabitch and I would never want to meet him irl

I remembered them talking about how he was supposed to be a person who cursed alot and they couldn't do it because of sensor and I have to agree this could have been much better for the story. I tried imagining curses in some places.

LOL Jon reading this is funny. Trying to voice act the bad boy. Doesn't sound right on his voice.

With these kinds of statements happening alot where the person does something bad, the institute has to be in touch with police over them. The nda has to include that.

Hello Angela! I really wonder what her deal is. She scared the bid bully so she gotta have creepy vibes to the extreme.

Another lighter! Hmm do I have to start following the lighter motiff in this podcast. This one has a topless woman on it. Flesh lighter?

Salesa's also appearing that's cool! Noriega was probably looking for an artifact to reverse the curse. Didn't work tho since they left with the crate. The buried crate perhaps?

I'm wondering. Was this written? Because the statement sounds like he's talking. If so, Where's the recording?

Oh Jon your attitude towards Martin is so bad. He works so hard and it's not even in what he's good at, sorting and filing like he knows how to do from the library. God.

What's the deal with all the furniture gone? Did he think it'll help not get injured? He's not that smart if he thought that would help him.

15 lost Johns' cave

Ack a bad statement she was not a good person all around

Another example of the entities setting the stage by controlling others not to interfere with the victim's experience.

Also another example of the person liking the subject (cave exploration in this case. And the dark for that matter) only for it to turn against them.

Not much to say about this one other than its one of the scarier ones for sure. And her recording in the end is really the cherry on top. There is alot of discrepancy between what she believed happened and what actually did which shows how much the fear plays with and changes around reality. That's also how she manages to lie in a statement to Beholding. It wasn't a lie. It was her version of reality and she did not remember saying those awful words.

Taught me alot about cave diving and how much I will never do it in my life.

The Dark was mixed into this as well so it wasn't purely Buried.

Btw Where did she get the candles she was found with?

It feels like she made a choice. Didn't want to spend her last moments with her sister and then didn't want to die. She chose her sister to be taken over her. Her sister called for help and the candle coming closer might have been her! But she just shut her eyes.

How did Tim gain access to the recording?? Wow that's some prime evidence.

Martin is claustrophobic amongst other things huh? Live how Jon just dismisses this as an excuse not to work. At least he didn't push it.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #Tim stoker #Oliver banks #Tma hiatus liveblog #gerry keay

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paaradoxum · 5 years ago

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BakuTodo Rec List of Fics Vol. II

It’s been a while since the last time I did the other list and many new, wonderful fics appeared (the dynamics will be the same: AO3 fics that includes top!Bakugou and bottom!Todoroki for those that are NSFW), so if you wanna check out here is Part I.

This time there are 32 fics in this list, I have more and probably I will make Part III soon.

Spoiler: EVERY SINGLE one of these stories are FUCKING AWESOME.

Rating: G

→ flowers die, feelings grow by kinneyb

Summary: When Bakugo first visits a local flower shop with Jirou, he buys some flowers in a lame attempt to piss off one of the employees - a guy named Shouto. But then he gets a little too invested in keeping his flowers alive.

→ Pretty by doop-doop.

Summary: Like so many things that had to do with Shouto, the question took Bakugou entirely by surprise. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

→ For a Single Moment by itsclowreedsfault.

Summary: Katsuki shakes his head with a sigh and an unbidden smile. Shouto's always been like an overexcited kid when it came to cats; Katsuki should've known he didn't stand a chance against them in Shouto's first visit to a cat cafe.

Rating: T

→ Ruin My Life by justhavesex.

Summary: He's not a vengeful person, really, he's not.

But him and Bakugou have started this little on-going war of theirs back in middle school when they were 10 years old and Todoroki had accidentally—if you got Todoroki drunk enough and fed his ego well enough he would, in fact, admit that it was very much on purpose—accidentally fed Bakugou's limited edition All Might magazine to his cat.

→ Aesthetic Distance by llyn.

Summary: This was around the time Shouto was appearing in all the blogs and rags and instagrams wearing a hideous faux fur coat of bright, hot neon like some awful crawling creature from an acid trip had been hunted and skinned, its pelt draped over Shouto's shoulders.

→ Dance To This by justhavesex.

Summary: Bakugou has never cared much about being an alpha, not really, not until he met the most frustrating omega in all existence: Todoroki Shouto.

→ Welcome to the Mile-High Club by minhakos.

Summary: In which Todoroki realizes that maybe airplanes aren't the only thing that should make him nervous.

→ Boyfriend Tactics by Esselle.

Summary: 'Shouto's eyes go impossibly wide. He seems to lose all powers of communication for a moment and just stands there, frozen, staring at Katsuki and the kitten. Finally, eventually, he utters the tiniest noise Katsuki has ever heard him make.

"Ah…" '

Katsuki comes to the aid of a small and fluffy civilian while on patrol.

→ Line by Line by Lillabelle.

Summary: With half his sketchbook filled with drawings of the guy, Katsuki wondered if he’s already crossed the line of being insanely creepy. They’ve never spoken, and he honestly only knew the person’s name was Todoroki Shouto because of role call in class. Shouto was just… so unique to look at with his half and half appearance. It was hard for Katsuki’s eyes not to get drawn to him. Not to mention they shared several classes, so if Katsuki ever got bored and felt like drawing something, there he was.

→ a todobaku one-shot collection by kagehinataboke.

Summary: all of my multiple, multiple, multiple todobaku one-shots. i stan two (2) dipshit boys that are obviously in love and hate with each other.

→ amaryllis by ?

Summary: The amaryllis has come to symbolize pride, determination and radiant beauty. Somehow this all suited Katsuki a lot more than Shouto expected.

→ tell ourselves a good lie by ElmoIsSatan. (In-Progress 12/?)

Summary: For a straight guy with anger issues, getting a “boyfriend” might just be his only escape.

Or-

Bakugo makes an impulsive decision and suddenly gains a boyfriend just to prove his parents wrong... The only problem is it’s all fake.

→ how to register for a library card (and get a boyfriend in the process) by Kaleid369.

Summary: “Friends have each other’s numbers, yeah?” Bakugou shrugs. “I don’t hate you, I guess.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” Bakugou snorts. “I gotta go. Text me so I have your number.”

“I will.”

He's already started walking away when Shouto blurts out, “See you tomorrow?”

Bakugou shoots him a smirk over his shoulder, as if to say, Duh.

Shouto stands and stares at his retreating back, and the thought of kissing him pounds along with the beat of his heart.

→ on brand by dinosuns.

Summary: Midoriya is honestly unsure what’s worse: the tragic fact that Todoroki Shouto can make anything look objectively incredible or the fact Kacchan has six versions of the exact same photograph saved onto his camera roll.

Nobody saves a photo that many times by accident.

Kacchan set the bar, Todoroki raised it. That is not a good thing.

→ The Journey Home by dinosuns.

Summary: “Your hair looks real fucking nice.”

“I thought it was about time I grew it out,” Todoroki says, something wistful caught in his voice. “You were always saying I should.”

That’s true. And Bakugou is satisfied to know he was right about it looking good, but it’s not like he can share that with the fucking class anymore.

Bakugou tells himself that he's fine with how things turned out between them. He also tells himself he's not still in love.

Rating: M

→ Zephyr by yeetin. (In-Progress 4/?)

Summary: The breeze that sifted gently through a golden sea of tall, dry grass brought the tiny spike of a different scent. An inconspicuous little prickle down the spine, barely even worth paying attention to. Something no one else would even imagine being able to notice.

But Bakugou did.

→ Objection, Your Honor by Myona. (In-Progress (8/?)

Summary: Shoto Todoroki hated Katsuki Bakugou. And he had plenty of reasons to do so.

But he didn't know that how things can change for the two of them who saw nothing but trouble in each other's presence and life altogether. Katsuki was a trouble from the first time Shoto heard his name, to the first day he met the man.

Rating: E

→ On Hot Blondes and Drunken Hookups by Crossfire. (In-Progress 4/?) I love this so so much.

Summary: “I’m Bakugou. What’s your name, Pretty Boy?”

Shouto looks at the drink in his hand, then back to the beautiful blonde boy, then back to the drink and downs it in one go, ignoring the slight burn as it slides down his throat, and while it would have been more suave to appear unaffected, he gives his head a little shake. He takes a quick breath and forces the words out before he has a chance to realize what a massive mistake this all is.

“Hot blondes I want to bang can call me Shouto.”

→ Tick Tick Boom by Ajaxthegreat. (In-Progress 6/?) THIS is so good, I’m in love.

Summary: An exhausted socially awkward violin prodigy and a deaf punk rock drummer walk into a bar.

→ Better Take a Mental Picture by chibibeeee. This is HOT HOT.

Summary: The one where Deku watches Bakugou take Todoroki and their exhibitionist kink is unlocked.

→ Cover: Blown by darkanddank. (In-Progress 1/2)

Summary: Some undercover agents got hooked on drugs. Went full Stockholm Syndrome, flipped and joined up with the other side. As Bakugou’s palm went flat over Todoroki’s navel and dove beneath his closed zipper, Todoroki started to understand just how easy it might be to go rogue.

...aka cop Todoroki gets his world rocked so hard by bad guy Bakugou that he has an existential crisis

→ Just One Bite by Crossfire.

Summary: This particular fuckup begins when he saves a cat from a demon in a sketchy alley.

Well, maybe slightly before that when his esteemed hedge-witch mentor turned out to be an incubus who coincidentally turned him and his stupid nerdy neighbor into incubi.

Or maybe when he was born to a non-magic family, but early on developed minor magical inclinations that turned out to be not-so-minor and kind-of-hugely-destructive.

Wherever this fuckup was born, it’s culminated as follows: Bakugou has been an incubus for one hundred and twenty-two days, seven hours, and thirty-six minutes, has not had a single successful feed, and is essentially slowly starving to death. His mentor is suspiciously MIA and that stupid shitty nerd has managed to secure himself a two-person harem so it’s just Bakugou, starving. To death. Slowly.

→ Gangster by Brixxen.

Summary: Bakugou is a detective trying to solve a case that's been open for months. He ends up in a town and meets a man who could be his undoing...

Todoroki wasn't expecting the blonde at the bar to leave him wanting more...

→ How to spend a Friday night by veltana.

Summary: That's how Katsuki ended up on his bed on a Friday night leaning against the headboard with his laptop between his spread legs, his hard dick in his hand, watching Shouto open himself up for him on the screen.

→ Your Turn by doop-doop.

Summary: An extra scene/epilogue/continuation of smd.

Bakugou and Todoroki housesit for Bakugou's parents and take advantage of Bakugou's large bed.

→ Comfort by hellaradholly.

Summary: Katsuki agrees to be Shouto's roommate after UA despite having an unbearable crush on him.a gift for Katie for the BakuTodo Valentine's Day Exchange!

→ Empire of Dirt by castiiron, clairesail. (In-Progress 5/?)

Summary: There was something different about being with Bakugou Katsuki. Something that Shouto had been searching for tonight, to no avail. A consistent burn in his gut, the warmth of a fire that hadn’t been stoked in many years. Katsuki had been inexcusably rough with him. Harsh in a way that had pulled him back to reality. Shouto hadn’t realized he was missing out, being so used to what he knew; going through the motions, a means to an end. His life for the last few years had revolved around mediocre sex as a way to abate constant desire, always at the forefront of his mind.

Unhealthy coping mechanisms are easier to hide when you aren't screwing your ex-classmate.

→ Be Quiet by chibibeeee.

Summary: Katsuki and Shouto stay the night at Deku's. If only they had any self control, then they wouldn't have to keep so quiet.

→ Speak Softly My Sweet Villain by Brixxen.

Summary: Ask anyone in Tokyo and they’ll tell you the same thing. That the No.1 Pro Hero Todoroki Shoto is the perfect hero. He’s kind to everyone, always the first to arrive on a crime scene, always the calm and collected hero everyone wants him to be.

It was ironic how things happened to lead Shoto to his current situation. Him moaning and shuddering like a teenager, clinging to the strong perfect body of the most wanted villain in Japan, Ground Zero.

→ Peanuts and Wolves by cashmeresho.

Summary: “Yeah, man, okay!” The guy holds up his hands in surrender and Shouto shoots him another apologetic look. “I really didn't know you guys were married! I didn't see a ring!”

“Oh,” Katsuki says. He frowns hard for a minute and then grabs Shouto by the arm to whisk him away to his table with Izuku and Kirishima to guard him or sniff him or whatever weird territorial thing he wants to do.

→ College Roommates|BakuTodo by S_Kuro.

Summary: Todoroki is the son of the famous Todoroki Enji, also known as Endeavor, his father is a famous business man that wants Todoroki to take over his business, but Todoroki wants to become a photographer. He goes against his father's wishes and goes to an art university miles away from home. There he meets a certain explosive blonde, who turns out to be his roommate. what sorts of ridiculous shenanigans will they find themselves in and what relationships will they end up in.

a BakuTodo fanfic

This is my first fanfic with these two, so don't judge me and I hope you like it.

→ Locker Room by darkqueen_25.

Summary: There are worse things to walk in on in a locker room, Inasa thinks, than your two new friends fucking against the shower walls.

There's probably nothing better than being asked to join in, though.

#bnha #mha #bakutodo #todobaku #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #shouto todoroki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x todoroki #top!bakugou #bottom!todoroki #bakutodobaku #fanfic #fic recommendations #fic list

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piccolina-mina · 5 years ago

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Hi, im the anon wondering about which character is the favorite. Tbh i was just curious, but i understand how that could create drama 😅 my bad. Youre probably thinking im from the rnm fandom and you would be right. I had a hunch of which character it was, but i wasnt positive. I dont really see them playing favorites in terms of writing but that might just be because the favorite character is also my favorite character. I was curious as to your opinion but I understand if you dont wanna answer

I think narratively the show favors Michael. The writers openly discuss how much they love writing for him. He's everyone's favorite. He's Carina's favorite. He's a fan favorite. And that is fine.

But I do think there are some days when it's so blatant that it's a clear flaw on the part of those creating the narrative. There are many layers to this too, some more disconcerting then others, but I'll stick to the narrative.

The fact that I (and others I'm sure) don't actually have to mention his name and people automatically know sort of proves the point.

And it's not a slight against his character or the actor, and it's not to suggest that his storylines aren't enjoyable either. Case in point, personally, I think he and Alex are having the strongest personal arcs out of everyone this season.

But then, that isn't exactly surprising is it?

More often than not, I feel like it's Liz's story in name only, but consistent, deep, gritty, well thought out etc storytelling falls on Michael. I can see and feel all the time and energy dedicated to this specific character.

That's cool, but when you have an ensemble cast, the hope is that it's spread out a bit better. The first season is testing the waters. The second season gives you a better idea of how things are and will be now that there is a rhythm.

In the second season, Liz, our lead, has gotten lost and swallowed up in the plot. Jeanine is great and has some shining moments, but she doesn't exactly have her own personal story that isn't wrapped up in alien stuff. This is where it's frustrating that ... we don't spend a lot of time with the Ortechos, something they've attempted to rectify a bit this season, but it's still mostly unsuccessful.

This is where her arc with Rosa has not been as strong as it should be and got lost in Liz trying to bring Max back. This is where I repeatedly point out the lack of focus on her relationships outside of the pod squad. Her friendships with Maria and Alex suffer a great deal and honestly with Kyle as well.

This is where all things alien consume her, and she doesn't seemingly have a life or rather chooses to expend any focus to a life outside of the pod squad and their issues.

And this is where because of all her energy being put into such a narrow focus on solely alien issues often at the expense of every other facet of her life, she often feels decentralized from her own narrative.

But we have Michael, and I do think one of many reasons he's such a favorite is because of all the focus he gets and how well-rounded and developed he is compared to the others. I mean if that's the character everyone pours everything into ... then yeah, he would be the favorite, yeah?

He's fun to play with, the witty oneliners, the bad boy with a heart of gold, the misunderstood tragic not a hero but really a hero, the lovable jackass, the endearing "screwup" so on and so forth. He's wrapped up in a bow, the catnip of all the most endearing tropes.

And they love peeling back layers for him and developing him and expanding on his background and characterization carefully and thoughtfully.

And that's awesome and enjoyable even, but when you have an ensemble cast and it doesn't begin to be spread about evenly, then it's a reasonable nitpick.

I feel like we have a better grasp on his past than any other character. He naturally was the one who wanted to go back home, but almost all of the past alien history and folklore has essentially centered him or involved him more so than Isobel and Max.

He's the one who heads to and finds out about Caulfield. He's the one who sees his mother and where the aliens were held. He's the one who watches her die in front of him. He's the one who continued to be tied into that plot while they hand waved why Max and Isobel weren't interested in learning more when they dropped enough breadcrumbs to support why they should be.

Until this season, until very recently with Isobel, everything related to their origins fell on him, he is the face of the pod squad being invested in finding out about their history. It then ties in with his tragic backstory as the foster kid who never had nor felt "home."

By spending a season and a half essentially centering him alone in a narrative that should involve all of them, it seemingly made it his plot. And that's BEFORE we even get to these recent revelations with Sanders and this implication that Michael was "the special one" not Max (which the mere idea of a special one at all was not and has not been something I particularly care to subscribe to in the first place), so it's doubling down and solidifying something they didn't need to emphasize this much.

The alien past has always felt like Michael's story and Max and Isobel are just hitching a ride. The many ways it was only tied to Michael makes it that way. It was Michael that Jesse had a file on.

It's Michael whose first love is a product of the Manes Project Shepherd element. It's Michael who gets that conflict with Alex.

The Valentis have just as much ties to that as the Manes and yet that angle is barely explored or used to add an extra layer to the tension between Max and Kyle for example.

It was just barely used to flesh out Kyle during the first season, and then seemingly dropped altogether this season when he should have just as much claim in this narrative as all three pod squad members and Alex.

Ironically, this is a big disservice to Isobel. And this is where this exclusive focus on pouring so much into one character comes at the expense of others.

Isobel, people like her and all, but when I look at the actual narrative and her place in it, if not for the fact that she's an alien, she's not a character with much purpose, and that's a huge problem.

Because narratively, outside of being used as a victim, they honest to goodness don't know what to do with her. They barely invested enough in her character to give her a fully formed, consistent personality. There's no real pull there. And as the only female alien, they could have done so much more beyond being a vessel for Noah and an abortion storyline where the only point was to make a statement about women and reproductive rights that didn't land as intended because of Isobel's privileges and access.

Max benefits from being the co-lead and being part of the primary love story. And then of course there is the eternal and patently unfair and imbalanced fraternal angst that ALSO is more often than not used to serve Michael's storyline and development.

It's about Michael working through his resentment. It's about Michael's abandonment issues. It's about Michael's battle with self worth. And 2.05 was about Michael realizing how much his brother always loved him. And him growing from that realization. And him saving his brother.

Just like now, it's about Michael protecting Max and "suffering" for it. It's about Michael being a dark horse martyr and sin eater for his siblings after taking the blame for killing the girls from Isobel and now damning himself to a screwed up life on Max's behalf.

The weight of the revelations geared toward Michael. The Sanders connection was significant and that was ushered in through his connection to Michael.

In the same vein we found out Michelle Valenti has what should be an equally as impactful and longstanding connection with Max ... but did it carry the same weight as Michael and Sanders at all even though those respective relationships have run neck in neck throughout the series? No.

We know Maria was sidelined all first season. This season most of what they've given us feels performative to address the concerns people had because of how things are handled ... with her splitting redundant narratives with side characters, having things happen offscreen, or shuffled to a side, or left on the editing floor.

And her biggest relationship all season is? Michael.

Kyle is getting sidelined this season. There's so much we don't know and could about him. His love interest storyline also feels performative and perfunctory... they didn't invest in it at all. It was like going through the motions.

Rosa's storyline hasn't exactly taken off as you'd have expected given the circumstances. And they just jumped around with key and crucial character building and meaningful moments with that too. They sailed right on past the Maria and Arturo reveals without letting them breathe. Almost like they just didn't have any strong interest in doing much outside of hitting the necessary notes: tell Maria, reunion with Arturo, save Max, overdose.

Liz's core relationships are all over the place. Maria, Arturo, Rosa, Alex, Kyle ... not enough investment in them. Not enough digging deep into them. Not enough exploration. While Max was gone most of the season. And she worked with and provided support to Michael and Isobel, hung out with Cam, but continuously neglects the aforementioned others who should matter.

But Michael's core relationships have layers and stay intact ( Max, Isobel, Alex, and Maria) and he gets substance with other ones ... Kyle ... Sanders ...

So yeah, nothing wrong with having favorites. And if that person is your favorite then maybe it's easier not to care or think too hard about it or whatever.

But the reason I dislike when you can tell when one character is a favorite is because of how it affects the narrative overall.

It seriously impacts the storytelling. It's like writing entire chunks around a character and this specific position you want them instead of writing the story and weaving in the character.

It can take me out of a piece when I can tell the objective is to get to a precise moment with a specific character. When I can tell that some of the writing is obligatory and then "the real fun" happens with X.

It's like stuffing your face with all of your vegetables because you have to in order to get to that ice cream Sundae. Like "if I get through A-W then my reward will be Z."

This is me coming from an objective viewpoint because I can separate when analyzing. I have actually enjoyed Michael a lot this season. He and Alex have had the best character growth this season, in my opinion, and I really love that.

But this is also a glaring issue, and I hate when favoritism bleeds into a series, especially an ensemble cast when it leads to issues with the storytelling.

And despite my enjoyment, that's what I feel is happening here a lot.

It certainly isn't the first and only show I've noticed this with. And yeah, I've even made these same observations and criticisms when it's my favorite character too.

It's the same on another series I watch with one of my favorite characters, and it's so frustrating except in that case, it's a character who can do no wrong even when they're wrong, and ... that's a whole other discussion.

But yeah. I don't expect agreement with this. It's probably one of those unpopular opinions or hot takes that can definitely bug people, especially those whose favorite character is Michael.

But this is my observation and why I feel that like him or not, storytelling suffers, is predictable, or underwhelming, or annoying, or jarring when you can sense the obsession and favoritism.

#it's late so that may not be a comprehensive response #anyway ... I'm not here for another round of fandom fkery so if drama is what you want to start go elsewhere #rnm discourse #rnm asks

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Mass Effect Romances: Legendary Edition’s Best and Worst Partners

https://ift.tt/2RPnEnt

The Mass Effect trilogy is a lot of things to a lot of people, but we completely understand if you see the release of Mass Effect Legendary Edition as an excuse to cruise across the galaxy looking for romance or, at the very least, the chance to hook up with an alien.

Mass Effect wasn’t the first RPG with a romance system, and the first Mass Effect‘s romance options could most generously be described as limited, but the ways that the Mass Effect games compellingly use romance as both a character-building device and a fun diversion has long made them a favorite among those who can’t help but look for love in digital places.

Which Mass Effect romance is the best of them all, though? While we could never deny you your memories of the time you spent with your personal favorite partner, this is our ranking of every romance (no matter how brief) in the first three Mass Effect games.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

18. Diana Allers

Players will have the chance to romance journalist Diana Allers while she’s working on a story about the Normandy in Mass Effect 3. It seems like it’s supposed to be a Captain Kirk kind of moment, but the whole affair feels…off.

Actually, Diana even expresses concerns that her brief encounter with Shepard could potentially ruin her career. Between the short flirting phase and the potential lingering ethical concerns, this romance just falls flat.

17. Sha’ira

Asari consort Sha’ira is really the only “hidden” romance opportunity in the first game, but aside from that factoid, she’s certainly not the most exciting partner in the Mass Effect trilogy.

It also always felt a bit strange that Sha’ira only sleeps with Shepard if the player says they’re dissatisfied with her gift of words. It almost makes this encounter come across as a kind of a Renegade option, which would have felt better if there was an equivalent Paragon side relationship available. This whole thing just seems like an afterthought.

16. Samara

The “romance” with Samara is hardly a romance at all (at least by Mass Effect standards). If you push past Samara’s code and keep flirting with her, you can eventually get Shepard and Samara to kiss. However, the relationship doesn’t go much further than that.

It’s interesting that this romance is a bit different than the others so far as that goes, but between the lack of a payoff and the fact you’re kind of forced to push past Samara’s respectful initial “no,” it’s hard to rank this romance above most.

15. Javik

There are different types of romances throughout the Mass Effect series, but few are clearly intended to be “romances” that the player’s character is meant to regret.

Yet, that’s pretty much what happens the morning after Shepard sleeps with Javik. While the joke of these two getting together fits into the humorous style of the Citadel DLC the hookup happens in, this is a one-note romance that’s little more than a quick gag.

14. Kaidan Alenko

Granted, Kaidan becomes a slightly more interesting character in Mass Effect 3 when players are given the chance to rekindle their romance with him before a big battle, but it’s hard to get over just how generic Kaidan was in the original Mass Effect.

Even in a game that offered very few romance options, Kaidan felt like a piece of toast with no butter. It’s not really what you want to see in the morning, but you’ll live with it if it’s your only option.

13. Morinth

A lot of fans hate the Morinth romance option for the simple fact that it’s the only one in the franchise that leads to the direct death of Commander Shepard. To be fair, that’s certainly not the best outcome.

Yet, the shock of that conclusion makes this one of the better “one-off” romance options in the Mass Effect franchise. It’s hardly a legendary relationship, but the surprising “payoff” is at least memorable.

12. Jacob Taylor

One of the great things about the Jacob Taylor relationship from a storytelling and design perspective is that it’s one of those relationships that initially doesn’t seem possible. It’s only after you really start to form a genuine relationship with Taylor that the path to this romance becomes more obvious.

Still, the hilariously awkward nature of Jacob’s main pick-up line (“But the prize…”) takes this one down a few notches on the overall romance rankings. There’s also the simple fact that a lot of people just don’t like Jacob as a character.

11. Steve Cortez

As the first male romantic partner exclusive to male Shepard characters, Steve Cortez helped to break a barrier that some fans wondered if BioWare would ever be willing to break. The absence of that option cast a shadow over the first two Mass Effect games, and it’s great that Mass Effect 3 finally addressed it.

Still, this isn’t the most exciting romance, and Steve is hardly the most developed character that you have the opportunity to be with. Maybe he would rank higher if he were introduced earlier, but such as it is, he’s one of the lower-tier romance options overall.

10. James Vega

Mass Effect 3’s Citadel DLC is sometimes called an elaborate piece of fan service, but there are times when that approach at least led to memorable moments that finally gave some fans the payoffs they had been looking for.

That’s especially true of the DLC’s options romance with James Vega: one of those fan favorites who were previously platonic. It’s hardly the most impactful romance, but so far as one-night stands go, it’s much better than Javik. James even makes you eggs in the morning.

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9. Kelly Chambers

It’s tempting to rank this one higher for the simple reason that many players developed a crush on Kelly and didn’t think they’d have the chance to romance her, but the fact that you can only unlock this romance after making some notable sacrifices (and that it doesn’t last long) means it’s a little tough to put it above some of the other options.

Still, Kelly’s popularity, the unique circumstances of your courtship with her, and her now-famous dance certainly elevate this fling above most of the other quickies in the game.

8. Samantha Traynor

Samantha finds herself somewhere in the middle of the romance pack simply because that’s kind of the best way to summarize your romance with her.

The Traynor romance storyline is pretty engaging, has some great moments, and is surprisingly substantial for being limited to the third game. Yet, there are times when this relationship is almost too normal compared to the more dynamic romances in these games. It just lacks some of that spice you get with other characters.

7. Ashley Williams

If Ashley only appeared in the original Mass Effect, she would be much lower on this list. Her sometimes awkward (if admittedly funny) dialog and the first game’s generally weaker romance storylines meant that her best quality as a partner was “not Kaidan.”

However, Mass Effect 3 pays off this relationship in some surprising ways. The game does a pretty good job of building off Ashley and Shepard’s previous encounter with a storyline that also manages to stand on its own compared to other romances. It’s just a strong multi-game romance overall.

6. Tali’Zorah

It’s very hard to rank the Tali romance without acknowledging that some fans are still disappointed it doesn’t lead to the logical payoff: getting to see her face. We do see a blurry picture of what appears to be Tali later in the game, but some players wanted a more direct reveal.

Even if you were disappointed by that element of the love story, though, it’s hard to deny that Tali and Shepard have one of the most exciting, original, and well-developed romances in the Mass Effect trilogy. Tali’s unique physical restrictions and the chemistry she has with Shepard make the better parts of this romance some of the most memorable in any RPG.

5. Garrus Vakarian

There’s a degree to which the appeal of a relationship with Garrus is based on the appeal of Garrus as a character. In other words, it’s easy to enjoy hooking up with Garrus simply because Garrus is an easy companion to like.

That said, the Garrus romance storyline is also pretty strong in its own right. It really picks up in Mass Effect 3 when the shock of starting a relationship with Garrus has passed and you really get to appreciate how Garrus is one of those romantic partners that are still their own character and not just your love interest when you’re around them.

4. Thane Krios

Not every Mass Effect relationship is a happy one, but few are as outright tragic as the romance with Thane. After all, you start your relationship with Thane well aware of the fact that his disease is slowly killing him.

While that whole thing could have come across like a Lifetime movie of the week, it’s ultimately an incredibly effective story that serves as one of the best examples of how pursuing a romantic relationship with a Mass Effect character really allows you to see them in a different light.

3. Miranda Lawson

Look, there are just times when the romances we tend to look back on with the most glee were also slightly volatile. When you’re far away enough from the bad times, it’s much easier to look back on the more exciting moments.

That’s kind of the dynamic that you get with Miranda. It’s not the deepest romance in the game (and the conclusion of this story in Mass Effect 3 isn’t the best), but the many players who found themselves instantly attracted to Miranda for…umm…reasons will certainly remember the first time they figured out how to make this bad romance happen.

2. Liara T’Soni

Liara’s status as by far the best long-term romance option in the original Mass Effect game is already reason enough to rank her high on this list, but her lofty placement is really all about how your relationship with Liara evolves across the trilogy.

As a potential romance that spans the entirety of the Mass Effect trilogy (even if her best moments in ME2 are limited to the Shadow Broker DLC), Shepard’s relationship with Liara is one of the most complete and genuine in the original games. Their romance is a simply beautiful story that doubles as one of the better examples of the kind of choice-based long-term storytelling that Mass Effect was built on.

1. Jack

You’ll have a hard time getting Mass Effect fans to agree on the game’s best romance option, but the fact that most of them will probably agree that Jack is, at least, one of the most interesting romance options in the game is a testament to the overall quality of this storyline.

The great thing about Jack is that you can either choose to engage in a casual relationship with her or, if you know what to do, establish a more lasting partnership that sheds some light on one of the game’s most fascinating companions. The striking differences between those two options perfectly compliments who Jack is as a character and stands as one of the best uses of romance as a character-building tool within a role-playing game.

The post Mass Effect Romances: Legendary Edition’s Best and Worst Partners appeared first on Den of Geek.

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brightbeautifulthings · 4 years ago

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Complete Tales & Poems by Edgar Allan Poe

"'For the love of God, Montresor!' 'Yes,' I said, 'for the love of God!'"

Year Read: 2020

Rating: 2/5

Context: Starting two years ago, I’ve picked an intimidatingly long classic to read over the course of a year. I have a problem with trying to read books as fast as I possibly can, so if I set myself a thousand page novel, I’ll try to pound it in a week, and it will just be a miserable experience all around. So, a year is a nice compromise. I’ve hit the major Poe horror stories in the past, and I’ve been thinking about rereading them, but I couldn’t decide where to start. Reread my favorites? Read the ones I’ve heard of? What if I’m missing something awesome? As usual, my go-to answer is to read them ALL. For more thoughts on individual stories, see my monthly blog posts. Trigger warnings: character death, torture, live burial, cannibalism, decapitation, animal abuse, injury, severe illness, racism/xenophobia, anti-Semitism, ableism, slurs, mental illness, bitter ranting from the reviewer.

Thoughts: My edition, with an introduction by Wilbur S. Scott, is probably not the edition I would have picked, since I prefer more notes or even essays to help me out with books that are 100+ years old. Context is helpful. Somehow though, my dad and I ended up with the same edition, so we decided to read it together. My dad loves all things horror (I come by it naturally), and we’re both longtime Poe fans, especially if you happen to put Vincent Price in one of his film adaptations. Scott’s introduction is particularly pretentious for a book we probably found in the bargain bin, and he manages to criticize the horror genre for not being “literary enough”. This is an Edgar Allan Poe collection, right? Way to alienate 90% of your audience right from the start. You can’t snub an entire genre and then attempt to explain why people like it. Like a lot of critical writing, it tells us more about Scott than it does about Poe, and I was circling his typos to entertain myself by the end of the introduction.

It did not get better. In short, I actively hated so much of this collection, and it's my most arduous and least enjoyed year-long read to date. To be even shorter, the only stories I found worth reading for pleasure were the horror ones I had already read and loved, and I'm afraid to examine too closely whether that has more to do with nostalgia and pop culture than the stories themselves. Poe has a way of lingering on pointless descriptions and belaboring a point to its absolute death, alongside an aggressively pretentious tone that suggests the narrator (and, by extension, Poe himself), knows everything there is to know about everything and you're an idiot for even asking. His true talent may not be horror, but in turning what might have been a good story into an intellectual soapbox and hammering it the point of absurdity. It would be different if the stories actually were intelligent instead of ridiculous. I’m happy to talk Aristotelian ethics, but the point is never to intellectually engage the reader–-it’s to show how clever the writer is.

On the whole, it seems like Poe struggles with telling a straightforward story, and I can’t tell if it’s because the short story genre has changed so much since then or because he’s so busy trying to show readers how smart he is that he forgets that stories have very specific components like suspense, exposition, or rising action (or endings). Most of them consist of some narrator speaking the entire time (I have all kinds of problems with this, from, “You just ruined the twist of your own story” to “No human talks for thirty uninterrupted minutes unless some idiot gave them a microphone.”), and few of them have anything resembling action, plot/character development, strong themes, or closure. There’s an essay-like quality to some of them (“The Imp of the Perverse”, “The Premature Burial”) where he seems to be trying to tease out a concept on an intellectual level, sometimes for pages and pages, before he remembers that he’s telling a story with characters and what could loosely be called a plot. I could do without all the intellectualizing, verbal grandstanding, and narrative cartwheels; just tell a good story, please.

And he does, sometimes. It's clear why Poe remains an essential part of the horror canon because those are easily the best stories in the collection, and I don't think that's just because I'm a horror fan. Horror seems to age better than some other genres because certain things remain consistently scary over decades or even centuries--being buried alive, for example. “The Fall of the House of Usher” is permeated by a feeling of bleak foreboding, culminating in some truly terrifying images, and “The Tell-tale Heart” is one of the better examples of Poe’s rambling narrator who thinks a lot of his own intelligence and slowly unravels over guilt. Both scared me to death when I was a kid, and I’m happy to see that they still maintain a high creep factor as an adult. (I also had the Great Illustrated Classics Tales of Mystery and Terror as a kid, because all a story about being buried alive needs is an illustration!) “The Cask of Amontillado” has long been one of my favorites (because there is something deeply wrong with me, probably), and “The Pit and the Pendulum” and “The Masque of the Red Death” are both top-notch horrifying, the latter a classic plague story that's a little *too* relevant to the times just now (but, you know, also one of my favorites). The clock symbolism is some of the best in the entire collection. Why, pray tell, would you be afraid of time?

The tolerable stories are the detective ones and the adventure ones, in that order. I can see why Poe’s detective stories like “The Gold Bug” and “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” spawned a genre. I was getting clear Sherlock Holmes vibes from his character, Dupin. However, it reaffirms that something is a classic because of its effects on literature as a whole and not because it’s still all that accessible. Just because something is the first of its kind doesn’t mean it’s the best of its kind; in fact, it usually isn’t because that was only a starting place. I can’t help feeling “Murders” would have been more compelling as a horror story than a detective story. Murdering gorillas are cool; listening to someone talk about murdering gorillas, much less cool. I was extremely irritated by his hot air balloon stories ("The Balloon Hoax", "The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall"), but apparently Jules Verne loved them, which makes a lot of sense. I was getting a lot of Verne vibes from things like "A Descent Into the Maelstrom" and even the utterly long, boring, and racist "Narrative of A. Gordon Pym." It's clear they had influence on other writers, even if they're not the best examples of their genres.

Which brings us back around to the bad. It's not worth my time or yours to list all the terrible stories in this collection, but I can briefly summarize what I found so terrible about them. First, Poe is tragically, emphatically unfunny. The things he seems to find humorous are either in very poor taste now (his tasteless descriptions of mental patients in “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether”), or they’re outright ridiculous, almost slapstick, like the woman who gets her head stuck in a clock and is subsequently decapitated by it in “A Predicament,” which is an odd sequel to “How to Write a Blackwood Article.” I’m sensing that Poe is making fun of intellectuals or would-be intellectuals here, but with so much time and cultural distance, it’s hard to tell. In any case, it led to a running joke (“I’m going out for groceries!” “Don’t stick your head in any clocks!”). Somehow, I doubt this is the major takeaway Poe was hoping for.

Worst of all, they don't age well on representation either. Poe seems at pains to offend every single minority he possibly can throughout his oeuvre. There are a lot of horribly racist depictions of African Americans, snide comments about Jewish people (or the much more obvious anti-Semitism in “Four Beasts In One” where a mad king has a thousand Jews killed--really?), and blatant ableism (“Hop-Frog”). It's at its worst in "Narrative of A. Gordon Pym," a novella that spans over a hundred pages, that is basically a tedious, xenophobic setup to paint the native population of an island as the most horrific and duplicitous monsters imaginable. (The narrator previously ate one of his shipmates, so can he really afford to throw stones here?) For inexplicable reasons, that story isn't finished, and by that point, I was grateful.

Poe's poetry is a little easier to work through than his prose. I love "The Raven" with its lilting rhymes and dark message, and "Annabel Lee" is very pretty, both ubiquitous in popular culture. I also liked "Dream-Land," "Al Aaraaf" (where Ligeia makes another appearance), and "Alone." Most of the poetry has pretty simple rhyme schemes, the subjects mainly love and loss. There's an excerpt of an unfinished play, "Politian," included as well, but it didn't make much of an impression on me. TL;DR: I stand by my initial opinion, which is to read his horror stories for pleasure and, possibly, his detective and adventure stories for genre purposes, and to skip the rest. I'll probably be looking for a smaller edition of the stories I like. This one is a massive hardcover, more like a book you put on your coffee table to look impressive than a book you actually read (but I don’t have a coffee table, so it’s actually just taking up more room on the shelf than any one book has a right to).

#book review #complete tales and poems #Edgar Allan Poe #horror fiction #poe readalong #2/5 #rating: 2/5 #2020 #bookoween

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liskantope · 5 years ago

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Some briefer(?) reactions to major Disney films 1989-1998

I consider the Disney Renaissance (around the period I refer to in the above title) to have been the last official leg of my chronological journey through major Disney features through Disney+ (for this one I need to mention that I’m excluding CGI animated ones on this journey, except when I feel like watching them on the side). I logged some thoughts on the films I watched in the two earlier legs of the journey here and here, where honestly I intended my notes to be short and not turn into full-blown mini-essays for each movie. Those posts turned out to be major timesucks and I can’t afford that now, but I thought I’d jot down a hodgepodge of reactions and just be briefer and sloppier about it. I feel like I have overall less to say about this set of films anyway, since they’re pretty much all very high-quality and are talked about extensively in the cultural discourse much more than films from Disney’s earlier eras.

As I was still trying to stick to taking one day for each year in the Disney Studios timeline and major film production by Disney picked up pace a lot at the start of this era, I wound up doing a rather intense marathon of one full Disney movie each evening: over ten evenings (corresponding to the years 1989 through 1998), I watched the ten movies The Little Mermaid, The Rescuers Down Under, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Lion King, Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Hercules, and Mulan. I would have watched Tarzan the following evening, but I had very recently sort of re-seen it when it came on Netflix -- I didn’t see it for the first time until an outdoor event near the end of grad school not that many years ago; I didn’t bother paying full attention on seeing it the second time a couple of months ago and couldn’t much get into it on the second viewing.

The thing about the ten major animated Disney movies on this list is that, while I can’t say I love all of them, the uptick in quality is dramatic right from the start and never wavers. Every single one of these films just seems objectively better than Pete’s Dragon, The Fox and the Hound, or Oliver and Company. This will help me be a little shorter-written when talking about them, as it’s easier to expand on specific criticisms than to wax on about how great something is.

[EDIT: Okay, these still turned out pretty long and more on the polished side. Guess I’m just not that capable of being brief and sloppy.]

The Little Mermaid, 1989

Although we didn’t have the video at my house growing up, I somehow knew The Little Mermaid quite well; I guess I watched it quite a few times. I went a gap of many years before seeing it again in college (I’m fairly certain that my college girlfriend and I watched it together, in fact). My reaction at the time was that although it was well enough done with good music, the story was terrible. This was right around the time I watched a performance of Once on This Island, a musical based on Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Little Mermaid” on which, of course, the Disney movie was based. I thought the tragic tale told in Once on This Island was beautiful and scorned The Little Mermaid for cheapening it. In fact, my opinion was quite scathing in the way that my opinions more often were when I was younger. So I was a little wary on watching it again.

I’ve mellowed out since my college days and don’t hate the story quite as much now -- in particular, I can’t really blame Disney for Disnifying a mature tragedy into a more lighthearted tale with a happy ending -- but I still think it’s kind of bad. We’re back to Disney princesses (I think for the first time since my first round of Disney films?), this time with a Disney princess who had goals that didn’t involve meeting her prince, until she actually meets him and every other interest, including staying in the world she grew up with where to which all the people who ever loved her or knew her are confined, giving up her voice, and drastically changing her physical form. And this is all for a prince character of flatly generic personality who is superficial and dim-witted enough that he only knows his true love by her voice. (I don’t understand why this isn’t the Disney Renaissance-era film that routinely gets criticized for being anti-feminist rather than... a certain other one also on this list.) Also, while King Triton isn’t by any means a flat character, his sudden turnaround at the end and almost lightheartedness at saying goodbye to his daughter presumably forever doesn’t quite feel right.

I was very surprised at how much I’d completely forgotten among plot events and certain scenes in the movie. For instance, as the action neared the climax, I really had no memory of how Ursula would be defeated and watching it didn’t jog my memory.

This is the first of several films on this list where I noticed a sample of what I’m starting to think of a set of 90′s sitcom/romcom tropes, in this case the situation of the romantic leads courting very publicly with all the other characters watching and cheering it on and working behind the scenes to help it happen. This shows up again in Beauty and the Beast and (to a slight degree) Aladdin below.

Great music of course, even slightly better than what I remembered. Fun fact: you know that “Part of Your World” song, almost certainly the most widely popular in the film, the one that musical theater kids at my (and maybe your) middle school always used for auditions? Apparently it was almost cut from the film, mainly because it was shown to a test audience of little kids who all fidgeted and got visibly distracted.

The Rescuers Down Under, 1990

I don’t have too much to say about this one, the first Disney sequel ever. I had only ever seen the first Rescuers before and, as my previous set of reviews indicates, didn’t particularly like it, but came in to this one a little more optimistic since some consider it better than its predecessor. They aren’t wrong -- this movie was similar to The Rescuers but better, I think. Although the villain was just as forgettable, the setting was far more enticing (at least to someone like me who has never been to Australia and thinks of it as exotic), and the dynamic between the main mouse characters was more engaging. Here we have another subplot that somehow reminds me of a 90′s-ish sitcom/romcom, with the aborted marriage proposals and a love triangle -- not that love triangles hadn’t featured in movies for decades, but something about how this one was done felt distinctly more modern.

Beauty and the Beast, 1991

Ah, this is not only one of the Disney movies I saw the most as a kid but one which has only grown on me as I’ve gotten older -- I consider it one of the most groundbreakingly beautiful of the animated classics ever made, one of my very favorite Disney productions of all time. We got the video when I was only five or so; I remember distinctly that it came out on home video (right after coming out in theaters) right around the same time that 101 Dalmatians came out on home video and that my mom explained to me that she was choosing to buy Beauty and the Beast instead because of its superior music. She was right about this -- not that 101 Dalmatians has bad music, but it’s hard to measure up to Alan Mencken’s masterful compositions for Beauty and the Beast. For me it solidly ranks in the top three Disney movie soundtracks ever, one of the others being that of Mary Poppins and the third being from an easily-predictable film later on this list.

I’m pretty sure I remember watching portions of this movie every morning for weeks before leaving for kindergarten (this is what makes me think we got it when I was five), and I continued to enjoy it throughout childhood. I next watched it when I was much older, but I can’t remember exactly when. During college I got hold of the soundtrack of the musical, which since has been one of my favorite musical soundtracks to listen to. I never actually got to see the musical until last December when it was showing in my hometown, and I thought it was excellent. Interestingly, there were a number of scenes that I assumed had been added for the musical but I had actually forgotten were in the movie -- unlike with certain Disney musical films *ahemMaryPoppinsahem*, they didn’t take many liberties with the musical except to add a number of new (very good) songs.

Leaving aside the top-notch music and exquisite animation, the story in my opinion is one of the most beautiful and distinctively memorable stories Disney has ever told, not to mention entertaining without every being silly or over-the-top. It speaks of compassion, drawing out core goodness from an ugly exterior, and the fact that, to quote the enchantress from the start of the tale, “beauty comes from within”. Belle is also, to my mind, the most feminist Disney protagonist ever to be seen up to that time, which is why I get super super annoyed that so many people point to this movie loftily shouting “Stockholm Syndrome!” I feel it’s kind of inevitable that I quickly address that here, even though I’ve brought it up on this blog several times before. (Also, for an excellent takedown of the “Beauty and the Beast is a sexist story because Belle has Stockholm’s Syndrome” take, see this video essay of Lindsay Ellis.)

When watching the musical last winter I kept an eye out for justification for the Stockholm’s Syndrome take that I might not have remembered and couldn’t find any, but it pains me to admit that I did find a smidgen of justification, for someone determined to be a bit uncharitable, in a particular bit of dialog from the movie. I don’t recall it appearing with quite that wording in the musical, although it’s entirely possible that the musical has those exact same lines and I just wasn’t being observant. Here it is:

BELLE: What did you say?

BEAST: I release you. You’re no longer my prisoner.

BELLE: You mean... I’m free?

BEAST: Yes.

BELLE: Oh, thank you. Hold on, Papa. I’m on my way. [tries to hand mirror to BEAST]

BEAST: Take it with you. So you’ll always have a way to look back... and remember me.

BELLE: [in sweet, deeply moved tone] Thank you for understanding how much he needs me.

So okay, maybe Belle comes off as showing just a bit too much unqualified gratitude here, an oversight that the writers circa 1990 clearly should have avoided in case diagnosing female characters with Stockholm’s should ever become trendy twenty-something years later. But this could be remedied by a quick rewrite of the dialog in that one scene; it’s not as though the whole plot has to be changed away from its inherently misogynistic nature.

And that’s all I want to say on that one aspect of this absolute gem of a Disney production. Despite a few minor issues I noticed, such as Maurice being a little too innocent and helpless, and it lacking my very favorite line from the musical (“Belle don’t you recognize the beast within the man who’s now before you?” at the end), Beauty and the Beast comes about as close to perfection as it gets.

Aladdin, 1992

Although I didn’t see this major blockbuster hit when it first came out -- it was probably considered a bit too intense for me at kindergarten age -- this is the first time that I was aware on some level that a particular Disney movie was a new release. (One of my few sharp memories of kindergarten recess was a boy standing on a stump or low piece of playground equipment making proclamations to passersby for minutes at a time that alternated between, “You are a street rat!”, “You were born a street rat!”, and “You will die a street rat!”, and how this made me consciously contemplate the concept of present/past/future tenses for the first time.) When I saw it, I loved it -- it was clearly the most exciting animated movie out there. At some point in childhood I thought it was bested by its sequel, but a few years later as a teenager I decided that the tightly resonant plot of the original Aladdin made it the best Disney movie ever. I’ve definitely mellowed out my opinion on this, as Aladdin certainly has flaws and some other features are more deeply meaningful to me as an adult, but I still hold up Aladdin as one of the greats. I saw at least parts of it as an adult on TV and saw it very recently prior to getting Disney+ when it appeared briefly on Netflix, but I was perfectly happy to rewatch it yet again on Disney+ the evening after watching its predecessor as Aladdin is fun and entertaining every time.

In this animated production we have finally topped The Great Mouse Detective in terms of animated action. We have topped most movies that ever came out prior in terms of a manically funny yet also soulful character in Robin Williams’ role as the genie. The story is excellent, apart from having only one female character, and my being bothered just a little by the slough of magic tricks dominating the action towards the end -- I tend to prefer universes where magic requires scholarly study and careful training (e.g. The Black Cauldron) rather than “genie points his finger at you and now you have the ability to point your own finger and make anything happen that pops into your head”. The sultan continues the trend of old man characters who are portrayed as helpless and infantile -- in this case, even more intensely, since the sultan has none of Maurice’s brilliant smarts. But I’m mostly nitpicking here -- Aladdin is well deserving of its high status in the history of Disney.

The Nightmare Before Christmas, 1993

I was very glad to finally get a chance to see this movie, because I clearly remember knowing about it from the time it was being advertised back in 1993, and I heard about it during my entire childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood. Although it seemed that most of my friends had seen it growing up, it didn’t look much like my conception at the time of a “normal movie” or even normal content, and so I don’t recall ever asking to watch it. But my recent-day self recognized that it’s quite a classic and was curious to see it.

I don’t regard The Nightmare Before Christmas as one of the really great Disney productions, but I strongly admire how original it was (particularly for its time) in every single aspect, including use of claymation, overall aesthetic, intriguing characters, and story. It was also fun to see what seems to be the only Disney musical that is done in the style of opera, that is, where the entire story is told in songs without any extended non-musical dialogs. And the songs are quite good in their own way, too. I don’t particularly want to see the film again, but I might not mind getting a soundtrack of it.

The Lion King, 1994

This is the first Disney movie -- and I believe the first movie of any kind, in fact -- that I went to see in the theater. I remember it as a powerful and sometimes overwhelming experience, but as a movie I overall liked even as young as I was. This is remarkable especially considering that much of the story feels more adult in nature than almost any other Disney animated feature.

What can I even say about this one? I think the general reaction to watching it is almost unanimously shared. My impression is that what its creators were going for, more than anything else, was epicness, and they succeeded in a way that had never been done through animation before. Apparently the entire (incredibly epic) opening number was shown as the trailer -- a questionable move, but understandably it got people very excited about The Lion King’s release.

One of many particular things that makes The Lion King stand out is the profound darkness of its main villain, perhaps the most chilling that has ever appeared in Disney. An argument can be made that not only murdering a major protagonist halfway through the movie but convincing the child that he’s to blame is the most evil act we’ve ever seen from a Disney villain. I’ve seen it pointed out that it’s vaguely ableist to give the villain an ugly scar and even make it his name. Some have suggested that they should have made the villain the handsome and strong one and given the scar to one of the heroes -- Simba or Mufasa -- instead. I’m definitely sympathetic to this point of view, and I totally agree that Scar shouldn’t actually have been someone’s name. However, without getting bogged down into something that could be a lengthy post all on its own, I strongly feel that in a way it adds to the depth of our villain’s depravity through the backstory that it implies. And by the way, his ending is probably my favorite out of the fates of all Disney villains.

The music also follows the film’s ethos of being as epic as possible (well, with the exception of a couple of the songs, but they were still fine songs). “The Circle of Life” and the instrumental music propel The Lion King’s soundtrack to possibly the very best in all of Disney.

To be sure, this movie does have more flaws than I remembered. As I said, Scar is a terrible name to give any of the characters, especially in a story where everyone else’s name comes from Swahili. Pumbaa is basically just one big fart joke. (Although, I give the writers major credit for managing to switch the tone to accommodate fart jokes within like five minutes of Scar confronting Simba over Mufasa’s death.) The video essayist Big Joel has pointed out interesting things about the story and made some rather troubling points about it, although to me that almost just makes the film deeper and more thought-provoking rather than actually worse (I see the Chronicles of Narnia this way). But overall, The Lion King has well earned its high rank on the list of highest grossing films of all time.

----------

At this point in Disney’s history and my childhood, apparently I decided that I didn’t care to see new Disney films coming out because I was content with watching my old favorites over and over, and anyway I was getting older and discovering that non-Disney movies could be quite entertaining as well. Therefore, I didn’t see any of these last four until adulthood, even though they all came out when I was still a kid.

Pocahontas, 1995

I was glad for the chance to finally see Pocahontas for the first time, unfortunately not before hearing countless references to it as being Problematic while I would have preferred to go into it completely uninfluenced by popular opinion. I had actually seen songs from it and Disney books of it as a child and it didn’t interest me at all. On finally watching the film, I found that I got what I expected on both counts: it wasn’t terribly interesting or gripping, and it doesn’t really pass the muster of today’s higher standards of responsible storytelling about colonialism.

All that really sticks out at me looking back (after some delay in writing this post, so that it was over a month ago that I watched this) is that the plot felt a bit atypical in two ways. One, a character, who is neither a protagonist really nor a villain, is killed off around halfway through -- a daring move that The Fox and the Hound chickened out of doing, but I shouldn’t have been all that surprised given that Pocahontas’ very predecessor did this with a protagonist in a much bigger way. And two, the story ends sort of anticlimactically: I can’t help feeling a bit disappointed when a big Disney animated feature doesn’t end with a lot of action, despite realizing that this more peaceful kind of ending being a reasonable alternative is basically the entire point the story wants to make.

The songs are sort of meh, at least by the high standards of Disney movies of this period. Nothing more really to say on this one.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame, 1996

Here is another movie that I had never gotten around to seeing before, despite having been somewhat more interested in it than I ever was in Pocahontas. And this turned out to be the main breakout attraction on this list, as I found it nothing short of spectacular (save, perhaps, the music, which was “only” quite solid, maybe not spectacular).

I would nominate this for the award of most mature movie among all the animated features included in this journey. I would almost say its ideal audience is adults, not children. It showcases an abusive relationship with enough intricate care to be worthy of analysis through abuse discourse on Tumblr. It displays lust and sexuality in a way that I don’t think I’ve never seen anywhere else in Disney animation. Its violence and political undertones are quite dark. It examines religion deeply (which is as far as I know unique in Disney), and the capacity of religion to bring out both the best and the worst impulses in humanity is exposed. Its main villain is one of the more multi-layered ones. It treats physical handicaps and deformities in quite an honest way and subverts expectations with its love plot.

Perhaps the only thing one might reasonably criticize this movie for is the characters of the gargoyles, which are clearly present to lighten the tone a bit so that the film isn’t entirely heavy and austere. But I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised -- I think the gargoyle stuff could have been executed in such a way that may have made the whole film sag, but instead they were done just right: the gargoyles are depicted as being animated only in the mind of Quasimodo. This means in fact that in a way, they actually implicitly add some gravity to his situation. (Consider that in a more typical Disney film there would have been some sort of cheesy sentient animal friend instead whose existence would not have been confined to the protagonist’s imagination.) Here I’m going to choose to ignore the fact that the gargoyles do seem to interfere in the final battle with some explosives, a possible inconsistency which is minor enough to be glossed over.

Anyway, I think before I unsubscribe from Disney+, I might just give this one a second watching.

Hercules, 1997

Although I never saw this one growing up, I did get talked into watching it by my college girlfriend who had been fond of it growing up. I distinctly remember not caring much for it when I saw it with her. My reaction at this later stage of my life is basically the same. There’s something about the animation style that I find subtly grating and distracting. And there’s something about the story itself that feels like way too light and cartoony a take on ancient Greek mythology (although it’s not like the ancient Greeks had a particularly heavy or dark mythology, and what else could I expect from Disney, really?). I guess that stories that are so explicitly centered around a young man’s quest for hero-hood and being godlike just don’t speak to me that well, and I didn’t find any of the characters that appeared to be especially memorable or engaging.

I did like the muses and enjoyed their singing but can’t say I love any of the musical numbers. So, I respect the effort and earnestness and general respect for ancient Greek culture that went into Hercules, but my overall reaction is still meh.

Mulan, 1998

I had only seen this movie once before, during a trip with some grad school friends back some years ago. One of my best friends at the time, who was with us on the trip, highly recommended it as pretty much her favorite Disney movie as she especially liked father-daughter stories. At the time, the film didn’t make a particularly strong impression on me, although I could recognize its quality. Watching it again on Disney+ has given me a deeper respect for it as having quite a good story and characterization, fine animation, and pretty decent music. I like both Mulan and Mushu as characters, and I enjoyed their dynamic.

I guess it’s telling, though, that I don’t really have all that much more to say about it. Maybe I don’t relate closely enough, maybe the movie didn’t imprint itself on me at an early enough time in my life, maybe I don’t engage that well with any plot that involves organized warfare, I don’t know. But I think I can only really like this film on a more dispassionate, intellectual level, rather than feeling touched in any kind of resonant way by it.

I think it’s interesting to note that Mulan is actually pretty rare among Disney protagonists in having two parents who survive through the entire story. And that moreover, despite it being billed as a father-daughter story to me (and I’m not denying that it is somewhere at its core), Mulan never directly interacts with her father except at the beginning and the very end.

Anyway... since watching all of these, I’ve been watching the more recent major films sort of sporadically: The Return of Jafar (a favorite of mine at some point in childhood, but with maturity I can now see why it was direct-to-video), The Emperor’s New Groove (quite good, better than expected), the first half of Home on the Range (about as bad as I expected, hence my quitting halfway through), WALL-E (as good as I remembered from when it came out when I was in college), Enchanted (one of my favorites, not on Disney+ so I got it through... other means), The Princess and the Frog (a real treat, slathered with Louisiana flavor), Tangled (sweet but nothing outstanding), Frozen (one of my favorites from seeing it in the theater; however I had never seen the first ten minutes which makes a major difference!), and Frozen II (which I had been sorry to miss in theaters last winter, a bit of a weird story but not bad and absolutely the most stunning animation I’ve ever seen). And, of course, Belle’s Magical World, the infamous mid-quel to Beauty and the Beast; this was not a major film but I just had to see if it was as legendarily bad as people say and, yes, it was.

I’m very glad to have been able to get a break from Netflix by taking a tour through the main history of Disney -- including many childhood memories, would-be childhood experiences, and more modern things from my adulthood -- thanks to Disney+.

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grittyreadsfic · 4 years ago

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[1/11] Hi!! I hope you're doing well :). I'm not here for anything in particular, I am just big mad about a fic that I'm /trying/ to write, and your vibes are that your blog is an acceptable place to scream about fic. So. Here I am. I'm writing about the loneliness of never fully feeling yourself in any part of your life. Because hockey RPF is prime projection real estate for me, I'm exploring that through the coexistence (or potential lack thereof) of hockey and not being straight.

[2/11] (I feel sort of bad for this, because I might not be queer. But like, I've been confused over my sexuality for enough years to be bothered by the loneliness of not feeling comfortable talking to my equivalent of my "hockey friends" about my tragic possible pining for my best friend. Hence the projection fic.) ANYWAYS, what I want to write about is, yes, the loneliness of being at the rink and not feel confident in bringing your sexuality there.

[3/11] However, I also want to write about the loneliness outside the rink too. In my life, my equivalent of "hockey" is a huge part of my life, and I don't think I'm really me without it. I'm at my best when I'm at the "rink". I’m at my most confident, my most ambitious, my most determined, my most resilient.

[4/11] I don't feel comfortable being honestly myself at the "rink" so I don't get to really be myself there, but I also don't get to be really myself outside the "rink" because I'm not really myself without "hockey". So, it's like I never get to be whole, and it's lonely because it feels like there's no one who knows me in my entirety, I'm always just broken up into pieces of myself (yikes that sounds dramatic, it’s not that bad it’s just :/ sometimes).

[5/11] The fic, while capturing that experience, is not super sad though!! It's a story of an old retired queer player (Danny Briere) taking a possibly-queer and probably-torn-up-about-his-sexuality-according-to-Captain-Dad-Giroux rookie (Carter Hart) under Danny's wing. From that, they feel less alone. It gives Carter someone with whom he's comfortable talking about all his confusion over his sexuality who really gets and understands Carter.

[6/11] He needs someone to lean on; he's a goddamn hockey player. Hockey players never do anything alone because they're always part of a team. That's how Carter grew up, and it's lonely to be faced with something he's so confused over and not be able to lean on his team. It gives Danny a chance for him to be seen by someone else in his entirety (sexuality, hockey, and everything else).

[7/11] *Gasp* I always circle around to The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known. It also gives Danny perspective that leads him to have compassion for his younger self, to understand that he didn't deserve to be alone then just as Carter deserves someone to lean on. It gives Danny a chance to have compassion for his current self too, to validate how hard it can be to feel not feel fully himself or fully known either at the rink or at home.

[8/11] Danny realizes that the reason it hurts for him is because, when he rips apart these pieces of himself, he never gets to be loved by his husband for all of who he is. But it's ok!!!! Carter gets the support he's missing and grows into himself a little. It's easier for him to come out to the people he wants to come out to (like teammates), once he has a better understanding of his sexuality.

[9/11] Also, Carter finally determines, that, yes, he has in fact had feelings for his high school best friend for about three years now. They start dating and Danny and his husband are very excited for their baby rookie, although the process of them being ready to date takes some time. Danny gets to see that he's not alone either, and he can in fact look for the corners of the hockey world where he gets to play hockey and not feel alone. Yikes this was incredibly long, I'm very sorry.

[10/11] I am seething because I know what I want out of this fic, I've written a lot of the scenes that really encapsulate important moments of Danny and Carter's arcs, but I cannot seem to outline it FOR THE LIFE OF ME. I lowkey want to throw my computer because I know where I am going!!!! But I cannot make a map and it's KILLING ME *screams*. Anyways thank you for running this blog!

[11/11] I really love finding new fics that you post about, and I also apologize for spamming your inbox with however many asks it takes to send you this whole thing. I'm sorry, you can do what you please with this, feel free to ignore it, I mostly wanted to vent and that has been accomplished. Also, fun fact, I just found out that you can only send ten asks in an hour or else tumblr yells at you and makes you wait an hour. Me: sends 11 anons. Tumblr: why are you like this??

editted with the final ask as of now: okay hello!! as of right now, it’s 10/11 for the messages because it reads as if that’s the end and i haven’t heard back from you about it re my post so i’ll edit it if need be! but for now: an answer (side note: i remember back when tumblr had no ask rules back in the day when i existed on pop punk tumblr in the early 2010s and i miss it)

this blog is 100% a place to come scream about fic! my need to scream about fic is why it exists in the first place

i am intimately familiar with the feeling you’re describing and i absolutely would love to read a fic focused around that (and god, what a fucking fun concept, i’m a sucker for fics with that kind of platonic dynamic at the forefront)

i’m not much of a writer (i love world building and plotting things about but i never actually enjoy the act of writing) so take my suggestions with a grain of salt about it but: if you have the scenes, maybe try writing them all down on sticky notes/scraps of paper/programs like scrivener (i think it costs money idk if there’s free equivalent) and laying them out, and trying to figure out how to get from point a to b to c etc? or if you have someone you can talk through it all with, maybe? i process things externally and i’m more hands on, so those are just the two ways that come to mind for trying to map it out

i hope you get past the little block you’re having at this point of the writing process though! it sounds like a lovely fic!

#Anonymous #lmk if you want me to delete this bud!#i'm fine with leaving it up tho

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overthinkingkdrama · 5 years ago

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Jona’s 5 Worst Dramas of 2019

A couple words about this list. I’m making this for fun. If a drama you love ended up on this list, it doesn’t mean that I hate you or I think you’re stupid or have terrible taste. But these are dramas that inspired strong negative reactions in me for one reason or another, whether that be disappointment, rage or disgust.

I’ve only included dramas that finished airing in 2019 in my selection process. If you have some dramas that hated, feel free to share them in the replies or send me an ask. It’s fun to complain about things for some reason.

Also, I have included major SPOILERS in a couple of these. So read at your own peril.

Dishonorable Mention: Melting Me Softly

I sincerely tried to limit myself to only dramas that I--for whatever misguided reasons--finished in their entirety for this list. Mainly because I don’t think it’s fair to brand something as the “worst” of anything without actually giving the thing a fair shake. That’s the only reason Melting Me Softly isn’t higher on this list. But I felt that it wasn’t right to leave it off entirely, if for no other reason then out of respect for the fallen Ji Chang Wook stans out there who lost their lives trying to make it through this trash fire. Somebody needs to stand up for those brave soldiers, out their gifing trash dramas while people like me are safe and sound on our couches, watching the tag like it’s a train wreck.

I made it through only two episodes of this drama, and despite my goodwill toward the majority of the cast, they were two of the most bafflingly bad hours of television that I forced myself to sit through this year. From what I could tell while side-eyeing the drama on tumblr and twitter it didn’t improve much over the course of the run. There were a couple steamy kisses that I enjoyed in clip form, but I don’t think it would have been worth the brain cells lost to sit through any more than that.

Bottom Line: Painfully unfunny, overwhelmingly expositional with no character development, confusing pacing and sloppy editing. Two episodes was two too many.

5. When the Devil Calls Your Name

It pains me to put this on the list because it was just last year that a Jung Kyung Ho, Park Sung Woong collaboration (Life on Mars) ended up in my top 5. And giving credit where it’s due, the two male leads seem to have a great deal of fun working together and I believe that all the actors gave this drama everything they could and sincerely tried to make it work. That’s one of the things I like about Jung Kyung Ho, he picks unique, risky projects that either pay off in a big way or fall flat on their faces (like the amateurishly written and edited Missing 9) Unfortunately, this script just too messy and too bizarre to work. Ha Rip as has a deeply frustrating character arc. He’s such a self-centered jerk for the vast majority of the drama, which is fine for a Faust type story if it’s written with conviction, but every time you think he’s started to turn a corner or grown as a person he reverts back to his old ways. The writing and tone are whiplash inducing. Plus the vague “soul mates” relationship between Ha Rip and Kim Yi Kyung seemed to want to have it both ways, flipping between implied romantic potential and a father/daughter dynamic, which made me quite uncomfortable.

Bottom Line: This drama’s bizarre mythology and world building barely makes any sense at all, but at least they’re easier to follow than the character development. Attempted something unique, but couldn’t pull it off. The OST is super dope though.

4. Love in Sadness

When I watched the first teasers I got the distinct impression that this wasn’t going to be a good drama, or at best it was going to be a guilty pleasure, but at the time when I started it I was hungry for a melo and there wasn’t much airing to hold my attention so I started it on impulse. I think in this case I got what I deserved for continuing to watch something I didn’t think was very good.

The first few episodes were actually pretty gripping and intriguingly dark, but that petered of quickly and the drama became and infuriating wheel spinning exercise with barely any perceptible plot development from episode to episode. The protagonists in this are all so stupid that in the final few episodes the female lead gets kidnapped not once, but multiple times because she keeps meeting her unstable husband alone. Plus nobody in this drama seems to know how to call the police when a madman is waving around a gun. It probably wouldn’t have made me so very mad except that in the last few episodes the writer became unaccountably preoccupied with how sad the psychotic, wife-beating husband’s family life was and how lonely and pathetic his life was when he wasn’t allowed to stalk, assault, and psychologically terrorize his wife. Seriously, in the last leg of the drama the villain is the only character who gets any character development at all. The drama pulls out all the stops to try to make use feel sorry for him. It’s disgusting.

Bottom Line: When a drama about a woman trying to escape domestic violence becomes completely preoccupied with painting the abuser as tragically misunderstood, you’ve got some serious problems.

3. The Lies Within

If it wasn't for the last two episodes this drama would not be on this list, but that isn't because it was in any way an exceptional drama, or that it otherwise would have ended up on my best list. Without the last two episodes The Lies Within is a merely adequate thriller, somewhat heightened by the brutal nature of the premise. I picked this show up largely to fill the void that was left by WATCHER and it was more or less successful, plus it helped that I liked the cast. However even at the beginning this drama I felt like it had some pretty glaring tone problems. There were parts of the drama that were standard OCN dark and gritty thriller, and there were other parts that felt like a campy police sitcom. The humor, when it does crop up in this drama always feels super out of place. But then that last big twist happened and man...I can't remember the last time a drama made me that angry or cratered quite so hard with a twist.

[And this is where I spoil the HELL out of this drama...]

Before this drama decided to go all M. Night Shyamalan in it’s last two episodes, there seemed to be at least one, if not two really reasonable candidates for the kidnapper. Actually all the ground work they’d done up to that point would seem to have pointed to Young Min and if he had turned out to be the perpetrator, I would have completely bought it. Instead they decided to blow everyone’s mind by making the kidnapped husband complicit in his own kidnapping and dismemberment. Which might seem like a shocking twist until you think about it for even half a second.

What it winds up doing on a narrative level it makes everything the characters have done to investigate this series of crimes up to this point feel pointless, resulting in a huge anticlimax. It makes the ambiguous figure of Seo Hui’s husband not only hopelessly stupid, but also cruel and unsympathetic. Because he thought somehow simply sharing the information with her would put her in more danger than threatening and psychologically terrorizing her into investigating the very people he was theoretically trying to protect her from. The explanation that he was already terminally ill doesn’t to anything to mitigate the stupidity of his plan for me. Seriously, you couldn’t think of any solution aside from cutting bits off yourself and sending them to your wife in the mail? I could rant about this ending at length, but I’m going to try to stop here.

Bottom Line: As far as I’m concerned, if you choose to sacrifice the emotional and narrative coherence of your story for a cheap and dirty twist to surprise the audience, you deserve every ranty review you get.

2. Love Affairs in the Afternoon

I’m really not sure what possessed me to watch this drama to begin with. That I continued to watch it is on me. The fact that I watched it despite hating the shallow characters, the thin story and the abortive message at the core of the drama is simply a lapse of judgement for which I shouldn’t be forgiven. Why did I do it despite not having a single nice thing to say about this show? Well, there are two reasons. I was curious to see if they would do anything compelling with one or two of the characters, (specifically the serial adulteress housewife an the broody artist) and I was surreptitiously watching this drama at work and it was really easy to follow the plot while only actually keeping my eyes on the screen about half the time. I watched the last episode before the subs were available and had no trouble understanding what was going. Which could be a sign that my Korean is improving, but is more likely a sign that the writing was so predictable and simplistic that you could follow it if you didn’t speak the language at all.

[Spoilers beyond this point.]

It’s my understanding that in the Jdrama that this is based on all of the characters basically wreck their lives and end up miserable, pointing toward the emptiness of the lives of these people who try to find fulfillment through extra-marital affairs. If that’s how this drama had ended, I still wouldn’t have enjoyed the execution but I could have respected the intent. But in this watered down Kdrama-fied version all the couples’ issues are resolved in the whitewash of a last episode time skip that makes the suffering and bullshit that led up to it feel completely pointless.

Bottom Line: Maybe this level of trashy, uninspired tripe would be somewhat justified if the chemistry between the leads had been better, but somehow they even managed to screw that up. The leads are just bad, vacuous people, a fact which is rendered all the more unforgivable by them being utterly bland. Everybody needed to divorce, nobody deserved to end up happy. Please be wiser than me and avoid this one.

1. Memories of the Alhambra

Initially, I was on the fence about even producing a “Worst List” this year, because in the past few years I’ve tried to be better about dropping dramas the moment they start to disappoint me, rather than hanging on to them and winding up burning myself out. I wasn’t sure if I’d have enough material to write this list, or at least not enough material to make it worth reading. Then I remembered that Memories of the Alhambra finished airing in January of this year (2019 was impossibly long, wasn’t it?) and I thought, “Aha, I can make this work.” I knew at once this drama was going to be the shitty tinfoil star atop my Christmas tree of suck.

I’ve already written a full review of this drama, where I got about as mean as I felt I could reasonably be. You can go read that if you like, I’m not going to retread all my many complaints here. What I will say is that Memories of the Alhambra took my mixed-to-favorable opinion of the writer, Song Jae Jung, and turned it to a negative one. She’s someone who clearly has a lot of interesting high concept ideas, but the execution is just not there. You can hook an audience with a concept, but you have to keep them with craft and structure.

Maybe the industry can be blamed for that. Maybe she just has a hard time ending her stories, or maybe writing on a deadline doesn’t agree with her. Whatever the reason, I can no longer trust her to deliver a satisfying story. And that’s deeply saddening to me, because Queen In Hyun’s Man is in my top 10 favorite dramas.

To be front-to-back terrible is one thing. The joke’s at least half on me for bothering. But to have potential, to have an interesting hook, a budget, a cast, but then to be either unwilling or unable to live up to that potential feels like a con. That’s how I felt about his drama, like I had been willfully deceived by special effects and flashy editing, all orchestrated to disguise a narratively bankrupt, unsatisfying drama.

Bottom Line: Is Memories of the Alhambra objectively the worst drama on this list? No, it’s not. Is it the most disappointing? Absolutely, it is. And that’s the more heinous crime, in my opinion. And that’s why it’s my worst drama of 2019.

#kdrama reviews #worst list #kdramas 2019 #jona spoils #exit review

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ellebabywrites · 5 years ago

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The Hitman - In Exodus (PREVIEW)

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Author Note: We’ve been very depresso espresso lately so I’ve been writing more of ‘how to turn on the light’ than In Exodus, but the next chapter is coming soon so please look forward to it !! ALSO if we hit 1K before Christmas Eve (only 40 to go!) then I would have accomplished my anniversary goal so please support !!

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀*⋆.*:*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆**･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ☾

Following you was far easier than Jongin had anticipated, thinking that he’d be kept on his toes trying to avoid getting caught, but you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that someone had been following you, watching your routines and judging them oh so harshly.

He kept his distance at first, observing from afar as you went about your daily activities. But soon enough, Jongin found himself immersed in the story that was your life. On the sidelines, a spectator, keeping mental notes of your behaviours.

Keeping space between you, Jongin follows you down the familiar street. He knows exactly where you’re going, the same place you’ve gone to for lunch every day that week. After your first class of the day you head straight to Lou’s café to grab something to eat and get some studying done. Like clockwork, the only thing to change was your order. Jongin would never admit that he’d grown to enjoy the establishment himself, but it was one of the least tedious moments of the day.

With the sky starting to darken in the cold weather, you fumble around your bag for your wallet amongst the loose scrunchies and old receipts, Jongin scoffs in disbelief.

“How have you not been jumped yet?” He mumbled to himself. Before you’ve even walked through the café doors you have your money in hand, out in the open for anyone to take. Jongin had picked up on the blissful ignorance you had in regards to the danger in Exodus, instead, choosing to carry on carefree. Stupid he thinks.

Standing in line a few spots behind you, he watches as you let person after person cut in front and he just doesn’t get it. You only have an hour before the start of your next class and yet you’re willingly letting yourself be pushed back? People were clearly taking advantage of your kindness, but you were either incredibly stupid or didn’t care. When the older woman in front of you is a few dollars short, you don’t hesitate before lending her the difference, even putting back your own drink just so you could afford to help her. How could someone so generous be apart of something so evil? Then again, most of Exodus were playing that game.

Grabbing a coffee of his own, Jongin sits a table over from where you plant yourself, what had become your regular spots. Finding amusement in the way you struggle to fit both of your study books in the small space.

Now, only a short while before you needed to be back in class, you attempt to get as much work done while shoveling food down your throat as you could. Jongin thought it was hilarious, bar the tuna mayo that is. “Tuna? Really? It’s 11am jesus christ!” Maybe it was easy for him to judge you from a distance, but out of all the things he’d learnt, your love of tuna was the worst.

He watches your face scrunch and eyebrows furrow as you try and absorb the information, recognising the same study book you’ve been working on all week, the one for Professor Jeong’s class that you’d been struggling with. The pages covered almost entirely in highlighter with notes and doodles littering the margins. Cute.

You just seem so harmless. No matter how hard he tries Jongin just can’t seem to figure you out. Perhaps MX were blackmailing you? Maybe they had something that forced you to be their spy? It was the only explanation he could think of, because it just didn’t seem plausible that the girl in front of him, furiously editing her notes for the hundredth time that hour, the one with drops of mayonnaise left over on the corner of her lips, could be willingly working with the notorious MX. But you were involved somehow, of that he was sure.

---

The library is quiet, the sound of rustling papers and hushed whispers being the only source of noise. Luckily, it was busier than usual due to the wave of group projects being assigned, it made it easy for Jongin to blend in.

He watches you curiously from behind one of the bookshelves, trying to understand why you haven’t slapped the asshole beside you yet. He’d been cutting you off and putting you down every chance he could.

“I just think if we..”

“Seriously Y/N don’t strain yourself, I think we’ve got it.”

Asshole.

Even Jongin wanted to punch this guy. Being the only girl in the group, the others found it easy to dismiss everything you offered.

“Why doesn’t she say anything?” Jongin wondered, once again you were letting people walk all over you.

It’s not like you particularly enjoyed being treated that way, in fact you were daydreaming about slamming said assholes face into the wall at that very moment, but you couldn’t do that. This project defines your grade for the semester and you couldn’t afford that kind of taint on your record. So you bite your tongue. Act none the wiser and count the seconds before you could go home and be done with them all.

Across the library you spot Minho, the cute senior who’d been working as the student librarian for the last month or so. He’s scanning out returns at the desk, eyes glancing up occasionally you presume to keep an eye on things. God he’s cute. When he spots you staring and then takes a look at the rather heated debate going on between your group, he decides to save you from the disarray.

“My hero,” you tease, almost running over to where Minho called you over.

“It was getting too painful to watch! What’s he ranting about this time?” He teases playfully, knowing all too well the constant tension in your group.

“Ugh I don’t even know, it’s so much easier just to tune him out,”

Jongin’s teeth clench watching the exchange between you and the librarian. The childish giggling, the ‘accidental’ touches, the lingering stares. Disgusting.

“Who even is this guy?” If he didn’t know any better Jongin would think this was jealousy, but he did, so all of these unfamiliar feelings had to be from just how pitiful the sight was. This guy was clearly flirting with you, the blush on his cheeks and sweaty palms said as much, but from everything Jongin had learnt you weren’t going to reciprocate. Tragic.

“Are you kidding me? Why is she twirling her hair like some lovestruck school girl? He’s not even her type! He’s... he…” his mumbled ranting cut off by the sound of you laughing across the room. “Well if that is her type then no wonder she’s corrupt.”

He watches the pair of you for a little longer before the need to throw up eventually overtakes his need to stay, deciding he could catch you up later and spare himself the torture of sitting through this.

---

The open sign light bounces off wet concrete, illuminating your face with such a subtle glow of pink that Jongin could barely make out the streaks of tears running down your cheeks. He almost missed you sitting crouched over on the pavement, the smell of smoke being what made him stop. Why is she crying? He thought to himself, seeing you curled up in a ball, cigarette dangling from your fingertips haphazardly concerned him. Jongin didn’t have to wonder for too long though, the closer he got to you the clearer he could hear your muffled cries.

“Stupid fucking Geord,” you cuss, taking another long drag to calm your anxieties, “takes all my ideas, monopolises the entire presentation and then my contribution isn’t enough!?”

Jongin had come to know the infamous Geord all too well this last week, the pompous ass that had belittled you in the library, the snotty rich kid with mommy issues that just loved being right. Honestly the fact he hadn’t killed him yet was an accomplishment in itself; but still, seeing you clearly so upset gave Jongin a weird feeling.

You were either getting much better with your performance skills, or he was actually getting mad for you…

With each sniffle, each tear drop, Jongin felt his resolve breaking away and being replaced with a type of anger he’d never felt before. Why did he care that you were crying? Why was it affecting him so much? He didn’t know, but it took all his strength not to go find Geord and make him regret whatever he’d done.

As quickly as you put out the cigarette that was now burning short, you’re reaching for the box to light another. You only really smoked when you were feeling particularly stressed, Jongin hated it. Ironically it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen; painting the walls with someone’s brain was nothing compared to the strong stench of nicotine that passed your lips.

For a second Jongin lets his mind entertain the thought of approaching you, but the professional side of him reminds him who you are. This could be a trick...She’s not an idiot. Then he considers calling you out. Drawing his gun and putting an end to MX’s game once and for all, besides, he’d been observing you for a week now and he couldn’t afford for his attention to be diverted any more, he still had the good old Professor to end.

Before he gets the chance to do either however, you stand up. Taking one last drag before stomping out the last of the flame, your hands carelessly wipe at your face in a feeble attempt at clearing the remnants of your breakdown.

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go home,” you whisper, more than familiar with putting yourself back together and wanting nothing more than a hot bath and warm bed.

#in exodus #in exodus the hitman #kim jongin #exo kai #exo jongin #exodus au #in exodus preview #the hitman preview #exo series #exo au #exo fanfic #exo imagine #exo reaction #exo scenario

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grisdidthis · 5 years ago

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It’s character making day! To aid in this grueling endeavor, I’ve downloaded isbrealiomcaife‘s 48 Non-Default Face Templates, which I’m editing as needed and which will hopefully prevent me from having everyone look same-y.

Since this hood is meant to be small, secluded and in the middle of the sea, I put the population cap at 200 characters. TS2 allows for an enormous number of character files before the game starts going wonky, and 200 doesn’t even touch it - it was supposed to be around 3000ish for the higher end PCs, if I recall correctly? - but 200 both fits the setting and won’t be too heavy on my poor old overheating-prone HP. Hopefully.

I’m making a total of 80 of these suckers. Not all at once, because who has the patience for that, and because I like to take my time with them as I would with playable characters. Which includes inventing personalities and editing their everything in SimPE so that they’ll have fully fledged lives. I like my background pixel people to be well-rounded, what can I say.

To kick this off, we have the ones I took no pictures from because they died before they could live, woe. I started with everyone who is related to a playable (or Big Role existing townie) and also deceased, because my sims must have pathos and whatnot. Makes things easier, since I can just use the existing offspring as a template.

So.

THE GHOSTS:

Gunther & Adalie von Laar - Some townies are more important to the plot than others. In fact, some are so important that they get to have filled out family trees and tragically dead parents. So Lars gets to have a pirate dad and a mom who is related to a playable family, both of which drowned when Gunther’s ship sank. Aw.

Conan & Niamh Cartaine - The Cartaine sisters have so far been my ??? household, in that they have a well defined role in the story - they live in and maintain the platform’s freakishly tall power plant and started a secret library on the last few floors - but I hadn’t given much thought to who they are or what their deal is beyond Caitlin sensible, Eilis rebellious, Moina witchy. I’m still fleshing them out bit by bit, so now they are the daughters of a pair of mad scientists - well, mad engineers, in this case - who perished because something they were working on electrocuted them.

Zoe & Santiago Sala - Rita has parents! She doesn’t much care about them, though, so who cares if they’re dead or - they’re dead. Totally dead. Of disease, which allows for some room to claim that maybe they got zombified instead. (It’s not like anyone’s ghosts will ever leave the Cursed Yard, and no one is visiting that place since Gloria all but lives there.)

Verbena Maple & Chuck Starbrook - Since I’m distributing ancestors like Oprah hands out cars, Juniper and Cory can also have a mom and dad, as a treat. Since the entire family is in the adventuring profession, we can assume these two went out doing something heroically bananas that led to Verbena’s death by fire and Chuck’s death by satellite-falling-on-his-head.

THE ONES STILL AMONG THE LIVING BEHOLD THEM

Lian & Lily Lee - You can’t actually behold them properly because I exited CAS before taking a proper screenshot and couldn’t be bothered to place them and enter a household but anywayyyyy . . . they’re the dude and the lady in the header picture. I didn’t create them as married originally, but noticed that I’d dressed them in matching clothes when I saw them in the family bin, went “AWW you guys are one of those dorky trendy couples who coordinate wardrobes, bless!” and immediately fixed that huge oversight.

Mace Maple - No lie, this guy was completely going to bite it to further furnish Juniper and Cory’s family tree. But then I noticed that I had put about twenty layers of makeup on him and his sad sad eyes started endearing him to me, and therefore I let him live. As a playable. (This making disposable characters thing is dangerous business, man. Odds are that you’ll get attached at least to a few.) Which means that at some point down the line Cory and Juniper are going to receive a visit from their depressed grandfather.

So. That’s ten down. (Gramps up there doesn’t count since he’s meant for better things than simple towniedom.) Seventy to go!

I’ll need a lot of red-bull for this.

#ts2 #p42 characters #p42 ts2

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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Elastic Heart - Part 2 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

Out of drag, Brock feels smaller. Vulnerable. He knows he’s still a giant Canadian, but without Brooke’s stilettos and hip-pads he almost feels fragile. Maybe fragile isn’t the right word, maybe it’s - ordinary. He goes jogging along Cumberland River and no one notices him. He wears grey sweatpants and Tragically Hip t-shirts like camouflage and blends into whatever setting he’s in. He’s like wallpaper sometimes. People look right past him.

No one looks past Brooke Lynn. They wouldn’t dare.

Not that he can’t turn a look when he wants to. When his friends drag him out to a club, he can usually find someone who isn’t too intimidated to pick him up, take him home. He likes being anonymous sometimes (that probably sounds ungrateful, and God help him he never wants this ride to end, but he doesn’t always have the energy to be Brooke Lynn. Especially on his nights off.)

Back in Nashville he texts Nina every time a new episode drops. He forces himself to watch each one in public, in a crowded bar or group of noisy friends, sometimes he even hosts the damn watch-party. At least with people on all sides of him (arms around him, buying him shots, hands on his back) he can’t fuck off without reason. Can’t run out into the streets or scream without someone coming after him, making sure he’s okay. So it’s better to do the watch-party thing. Safer, at least.

“Your fucking face,” he texts Nina during the Monster’s Bal episodel. On the flat-screen above the bar, Nina’s just taken off her mask and is grinning horrifically at the camera.

“Your fucking mom,” Nina texts back. Class act, that one.

“Tell me you aren’t actually selling Branjie hats,” she adds a few seconds later.

Brock shuts his eyes, swallows. His hands don’t shake as he texts back.

“4 charity u want 1?”

Nina sends him a series of emojis that are just indecipherable enough to be insulting. And maybe the hats were a cynical move but the proceeds really are going to charity. It was all Brock’s agent’s idea, and they ran it by Vanessa of course but - the worst part is that Brock’s actually getting some fucked-up kind of relief from it. From the people online who think the whole sad story was a publicity stunt. It’s like, fine, that’s all it was, here’s a fucking hat. You wanna buy a piece of our relationship? We accept Paypal.

It’s easier to think about it this way, then - the other way. His hand on Vanessa’s chest, heartbeat singing warm and low beneath Brock’s palm. That harsh, rowdy laugh across the werkroom, making Brock laugh in return no matter what he was doing, and then blush with embarrassment.

(“I’m your jush, hey?”Lips close to Vanjie’s ear, arms draped over her shoulders.

“Aw, bitch, what you want me to say?” Vanessa’s focused on her sewing, but she still gives a cautious glance upwards, smiling with the corners of her mouth. “You need a ring or some shit?”)

That line becomes a bit of a joke between them, though it hasn’t shown up in the episodes yet - and if there’s any justice in the universe it never will.

(“You need a ring or some shit?” after Vanjie wins a mini-challenge, reaching out for a hand to hold.

“You need a ring or some shit?” after Vanjie lip-synchs for her life and throws her arms around Brooke as soon as they’re off-stage, away from the judges and the harsh white lights, smelling like sweat and hairspray and baby powder and -)

Stop.

If Brock ever hears that question edited dramatically into a confessional, he might break a television with his knuckles.

At the very least, throw a high-heel.

“Are you okay?” Nina texts, too high-achieving for slang or abbreviations. She even uses punctuation like some sort of monster.

Brock puts his phone down, lets the drama play out on screen for once. Nina doesn’t need a response to the question. She already knows the answer.

* * *

The first time they kiss, the cameras are not on them.

Brooke wouldn’t have done that, wouldn’t have wanted to make it something sensational. She knows there’s a limit to how cuddly they can be before the editors start building a story out of it, putting pieces together that will inevitably lead to some awful climax and a lot of think-pieces on Vulture. It’s best to keep - whatever it is behind Vanjie’s dark eyes - under wraps.

They’ve been trading glances across the werkroom but Brooke tells herself it doesn’t mean anything special. Vanjie is a legend, a rock star, and even though Brooke slays the first runway challenge (all hail Detox, Patron Saint of Latex, hallowed be Thy name) it doesn’t make her think she’s earned any extra notice from the other queens. Maybe a couple of shady glances here and there, but that’s to be expected.

And if she looks a bit too long at Vanessa Vanjie Mateo (all wrapped up in red silk, the sticky-sweet colour of maraschino cherries and candied apples) no one’s going to notice. Vanjie’s fine as hell in and out of drag; you’d have to be blind not to stare at her.

Brooke’s clearly only fooling herself because that first night (the fucking first night!) A’Keria slides up beside Brooke in line for craft services, pursing her lips.

“Oooh girl, you be careful.”

“Why?” Brooke grabs some salad before it runs out. Fuck knows the P.A.s won’t order more of it.

“Play innocent all you like, but I see you lookin’. Don’t be stupid, now.” A’Keria is too smart for her own good, and too damn cool to be chatting with Brooke over paper plates full of iceberg lettuce. “Any of those producers catch you, they’re gonna be all over it, know what I’m sayin’?”

“I don’t,” Brooke Lynn says, and A’Keria rolls her eyes.

But Brooke knew. And she really should have listened.

It’s after the “What’s Your Sign” runway (which Vanjie stomps like she owns it, dripping with red roses and a goddamn Libra, Jesus Christ - Brooke’s so predictable.)

She takes off her paint and sneaks outside for a smoke break before the producers come to round them all up, pack ‘em into the van back to the hotel. No one follows her. The cameras usually leave a queen alone if she’s by herself (not enough drama to waste the film) and Brooke hurries to take advantage of that fact.

The smoking area is just a nasty little square of pavement with a couple of chairs and an ashtray, but it’s quiet and Brooke can almost see the stars. For a few moments she’s completely alone and after the chaos of shooting for sixteen hours – it’s nice. Nice to not have to be “on.” Nice to just be.

And then the door creaks as it opens, and out walks Vanjie. Back in boy clothes, but still a bit glittery.

“Hello, hello, hello Miss Brooke Lynn.”

Brooke exhales a laugh that tastes like ashes. “You don’t smoke.”

“Nah.” Vanjie sits down on a chair across from her. “But those girls take forever, I’m growing old watching them. Look, baby, I got wrinkles.” She turns her head from side to side, gesturing to (non-existent) lines at the corners of her eyes.

Brooke wants to tell her she looks perfect, flawless, untouchable. But she doesn’t. Instead she sucks on her cigarette, tells herself to be cool (for once.) “You were so good in the challenge. It was amazing.”

“I’m not a regular dad, I’m a cool dad.” Vanjie tugs at the shoulder of her hoodie with that low, rasping laugh of hers. “You weren’t so bad neither.”

Brooke shakes her head, old enough to know bullshit when she hears it. “Don’t even. That voice - that whole character was a mistake.”

“Haha, well. It was a choice, bitch, a choice. Good thing you turned it out on the runway.” Vanjie tilts her head back, looking up into the dark. “Hey, I can almost see stars. That’s a star, right?”

Brooke follows Vanjie’s pointing hand, but can’t make anything out besides smog. She closes her eyes instead of looking at her any longer (sometimes looking at Vanessa is easy and sweet as breathing, and sometimes it’s like holding the palm of your hand over a candle) and thinks of how far away from home she is. Old homes, and new ones, and all the places in between that felt like home at the time. She thinks of how long it’s been since she’s seen winter, the sky going grey-gold with falling snow.

When Brooke opens her eyes, Vanjie’s watching her.

“Don’t go getting down on yourself, Miss Brooke Lynn,” she says. “Mama Ru will clock that self-doubt and come after you. She eats. That. Shit. Up.”

“Right. Jesus, you’re right.” Brooke concentrates on the glowing ember at the tip of her cigarette, and not the way the dim lights catch Vanjie’s cheekbones. “Anyway, how are you holding up? Feel different than last season?”

“Since it’s been a minute and I’m still here? Fuck yeah it feels different. Ha!” All the teasing electricity in her eyes goes soft, and Vanjie’s quiet for a moment. A smudge of glitter still sparkles at the hollow of her throat. “Shit, I can’t believe I’m back. That they let me come back. Shit.”

“Fans would have rioted if they didn’t bring you back.” Brooke fills the air with smoke as she breathes. “I certainly would have.”

“Yeah?” Vanjie raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should start smoking, since y’all making it look so good. Sitting out here in the dark like a tall glass of Clearly Canadian.”

“I don’t think they even make that any more.”

“Know your history, bitch.”

Brooke laughs again, helpless in the face of so much charm. “You know you have glitter on you? Your neck. Just -”

She reaches out to wipe it away, but before she can make contact with skin, Vanjie’s hand catches hers. Holds.

Brooke doesn’t move. She isn’t generally a reckless person - she’s poised, efficient, ruthless. (She wants all those things to be true. She wants to be smarter than this. She wants to feel the pulse point beating in Vanjie’s wrist like a metronome. She wants -)

“Shoulda known you’d be a Pisces,” Vanjie says before she kisses her.

(As kisses go - it’s in the Top Three of Brooke’s life.

Number One: hasn’t happened yet. That’ll come later, violins and roses and all that shit, payoff worth the wait and then some.

Number Two: her first kiss. First with a boy anyway - drunk and seventeen and gasping with the realization that she could have this. This was okay. It was okay.

Number Three is Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, tasting like mint and still glittery, hand clutching tight to Brooke’s (who isn’t shaking, she isn’t.) There’s a hint of tongue at the corner of her mouth, and it’s all Brooke can do not to clutch fistfuls of that hoodie and drag Vanjie against her. Hold her tight. Keep her close. Brooke doesn’t know how she’ll ever manage to pry her hands away.)

Then the door creaks as it opens.

Brooke has just enough self-control to pull back before Yvie’s coming out, digging into the pockets of her skinny jeans for a lighter and scowling.

Not looking up. Not looking at them.

“We’ve apparently got five minutes to get to the van. Christ, that paint did not want to come - oh.” She glances up. “Didn’t know you smoked, Vee.”

And Vanjie grins, showing the white of her teeth (“Ain’t I full of surprises, bitch?”) and Brooke swan-dives to the pavement, through the ground, clean through the centre of the earth.

She was already half-way there, but fuck her life: she falls.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #angst #eventual happy ending #canon adjacent #elastic heart #mia ugly #tw heartache #concrit welcome #submission #s11 #on set fic

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theliberaltony · 5 years ago

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via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

sarahf (Sarah Frostenson, politics editor): Last Thursday, the House voted to impeach President Trump, making him just the third president to have ever been impeached. His administration has attacked the impeachment process as unfair and has called it “illegitimate,” but this moment is something that will inevitably make the history books on his presidency … right?

So let’s talk about the most important moments of Trump’s presidency so far.

I’d start with his impeachment as the most important moment so far, but is this where you’d start, too? Or is there another moment that you think is even more important to defining his presidency?

ameliatd (Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux, senior writer): I’d start there too — and not just because the vote happened last week. To state the obvious, impeaching a president is a really, really big deal, even if the outcome of the vote felt foreordained. This will be central to how Trump is remembered, regardless of how it turns out for the people involved.

nrakich (Nathaniel Rakich, elections analyst): Yes, if we define “moment” as “a series of events that has happened over a few months,” I would say impeachment is clearly #1. But if we want to zoom in to a specific event, my #1 moment would be the period of Sept. 21-24 this year, beginning when the Ukraine story broke wide open and ending when Speaker Nancy Pelosi announced the impeachment inquiry. Everything that has happened since — the hearings, the vote — stems from that.

The events of Sept. 21-24 were also when public opinion changed most decisively. The vote itself doesn’t look like it will change anyone’s minds, nor did any of the individual revelations along the way.

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): To me, impeachment isn’t the most important moment of his presidency — even if it will be the easiest and clearest thing to remember. Instead, I think there are three other defining events: 1) The firing of former FBI director James Comey, which illustrated Trump’s disregard for norms and the rule of law; 2) his reaction to the white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, where after it erupted in deadly violence he said there was blame “on both sides”; 3) his press conference in Helsinki, Finland, with Russian President Vladimir Putin at which he downplayed the U.S. government’s finding that Russia interfered in the 2016 election.

ameliatd: The Comey firing was on my list, too, and not just because it was a violation of norms. It also kicked off special counsel Robert Mueller’s investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election that consumed almost two years of Trump’s presidency. The release of the Mueller report was important too, but I’d argue that in the scope of the Russia investigation, Comey’s firing was the more significant moment, since it set the entire process in motion.

nrakich: I have the Comey firing at #2, for exactly the reason Amelia says.

The Russia investigation was a big backdrop for so much of Trump’s presidency and I think undermined his legitimacy with a substantial portion of the population.

As for Charlottesville and Helsinki: While I found those to be bizarre, even disturbing, moments, I don’t think they’re ultimately important enough to make the AP U.S. History study guide version of the Trump presidency.

ameliatd: That’s the trouble with trying to pick out individual moments — are we talking about what will lead the high school U.S. history curriculum 50 years from now? Or the events that crystallized the biggest themes of the Trump presidency? Without going on a detour about what makes it into history books in the first place, Comey’s firing seems like an event that fits both categories.

sarahf: We are trying to identify discrete events that eventually make the history books, but to your point, Amelia, some of these will encapsulate big themes in his presidency, too.

perry: Speaking of themes, Trump’s identity politics have perhaps been the defining trait of his administration. The idea that people use the word “racist” to describe the American president is jarring, but it fits with some of his behavior. I assumed that some of Trump’s racist rhetoric was kind of an act until Charlottesville. That made it even more real. I think it really cemented how people covered and thought of him.

ameliatd: The Charlottesville rally was on my top five list, and I do think that will end up in the history books. Trump’s reaction was just such a shocking acknowledgment of the role that racism and white supremacy seems to play in his voting coalition, after an incredibly tragic and disturbing event.

nrakich: Interesting. I agree that Charlottesville (and Trump’s response to it) was representative of a fundamental aspect of his election and presidency. But with the benefit of years of perspective, I just think it fits into a long line of outrageous and racist things Trump has said and done that haven’t really damaged his standing politically.

And I think history will be written with either moments that shifted public opinion or moments that affected policy and thus the day-to-day lives of real people, either in the U.S. or abroad.

ameliatd: But if you’re thinking about the moment that most embodies the outrageous and racist things Trump has said — that has to be it, right?

nrakich: During his time in office, yes.

There were others during the 2016 campaign (the Access Hollywood tape being #1 on that list).

perry: It’s true that what we’re talking about goes beyond what happened in Charlottesville. In fact, in terms of substance, you might say that the policy of separating children from their parents at the border or the travel ban that temporarily barred all visitors from seven majority-Muslim countries are better examples of some of the racist policies the administration has put forward. Charlottesville is just easier to describe as one moment.

ameliatd: I was wrestling with whether to put the travel ban in my top five. It was an action that made Trump’s campaign trail rhetoric immediately seem real. Trump wasn’t just going to attack Muslims and immigrants on the campaign trail — he was actually going to act on his promises.

nrakich: The entire first week of the Trump administration was truly surreal.

ameliatd: I had one moment on my list that we haven’t mentioned yet — Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court nomination and confirmation hearings. If we’re talking about actions that both fit into the broader themes of Trump’s presidency and will have serious ramifications for Americans for years to come, I think that has to be in the top five.

nrakich: Agreed, Amelia. The Christine Blasey Ford hearing, and Kavanaugh’s subsequent confirmation, were #3 on my list.

Not only did he replace Anthony Kennedy, locking in five conservative votes on the court, but the allegations of attempted rape and indecent exposure that emerged spoke so much to the #MeToo zeitgeist of the time.

perry: It was, of course, a big deal that the swing justice (Kennedy) was replaced by a significantly more conservative person on the court, but in some ways, Kavanaugh is also a standard-issue conservative who could have been appointed by a more traditional Republican president like say, Jeb Bush.

It was the process by which Kavanaugh was appointed that was the real moment — a president accused of sexual assault put a judge accused of sexual assault on the highest court. The #MeToo movement was the one big story that happened between 2017 and 2019 that wasn’t centered on Trump, but I think Kavanaugh’s confirmation battle connected with that broader conversation about sexual misconduct.

ameliatd: Well, also, Perry, I think Jeb Bush would have probably pressured Kavanaugh to withdraw after the allegations against him were made public. The fact that Trump stood by him just feeds into the dynamic you’re describing.

perry: Exactly. If anything, the controversy seemed to make Trump more determined to put him on the court.

ameliatd: Women’s anger against Trump, too, has been a defining theme of his presidency, starting with the Women’s March in 2017 after his inauguration and continuing through the 2018 midterms. And I think the Ford/Kavanaugh hearing was a key moment in representing some of that.

perry: Yes, the vocal anger of liberal women is a big part of the reaction to the Trump presidency. The Women’s March illustrated that powerfully on the first day of Trump’s presidency, but as you say, the Kavanaugh hearings were a kind of culmination of that, too.

sarahf: It’s harder to define some of what we’re talking about now as one “moment,” but there has been such a strong undercurrent of liberal activism throughout his presidency that I could definitely see images from protests being included in the history books.

But are there other moments in people’s top five that we haven’t hit yet?

nrakich: My #4 moment was the failure of the Obamacare repeal in summer 2017, embodied by the late Sen. John McCain giving a thumbs-down no vote on the Senate floor.

I think, for most presidents, policy achievements are some of the biggest moments of their presidency. But, to be honest, Trump hasn’t pushed through much on the policy front. (Arguably, his tax cuts are probably his biggest legislative accomplishment, but I’m not sure how strongly they will be remembered.)

ameliatd: What about the government shutdown, though, Nathaniel? That was another moment when Trump tried to force a campaign promise through Congress and it backfired kind of spectacularly.

nrakich: Yes, the government shutdown came close to cracking my top five as well. It was one of the few events of Trump’s presidency that actually seemed to affect his approval rating! But as we’ve said over and over again, the effects of government shutdowns are pretty short-lived, whereas the consequences of Obamacare not having been repealed can still be felt.

perry: The failure of repealing the ACA was big, in part, because it is a policy that affects millions. But I thought at the time that the ACA-repeal setback indicated that Trump might not be able to implement his agenda more broadly. That’s not really happened, though. The tax bill passed a few months later, and even though Trump hasn’t gotten as much funding as he wanted for his border wall, he has been able to accomplish a lot of his immigration policies through executive orders.

There are at least three other moments I’d call out, too. Two of which we have already kind of hit on. First, the actual Mueller report, which outlined a lot of really questionable behavior and in some ways led to Trump’s impeachment. Second, the 2018 midterm elections (a pretty firm rejection of Trump by the voters). And third, although there is no single event we can point to, I’d argue that the low unemployment rate and strong GDP growth have made it easier for Trump’s supporters to rationalize some of his behavior and has probably kept his approval rating from going too low.

nrakich: Yes, Perry, the 2018 elections rounded out my top five moments. They were a bloodbath for Republicans, especially in the House and governors’ mansions. And that has had reverberating policy implications both on the state and federal levels — for example, impeachment was really only possible because of the House results in 2018. Also, as you said, it was a strong statement by voters against Trump. Democrats flipped more House seats than they had in any election since 1974. It definitely has set the tone for the last two years of Trump’s first term.

ameliatd: We also haven’t talked about Trump’s foreign policy or his trade policy, both of which have had pretty broad consequences. What about the withdrawal of troops from Syria or his steel tariffs?

sarahf: Or everything with North Korea!

nrakich: Yeah, his trade policy is significant, but again, it’s hard to boil down to a single moment. The historic summit with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un in Singapore in 2018 was a milestone but didn’t end up having any actual policy implications, really.

perry: I mentioned Helsinki at the beginning because when it comes to foreign policy, the only thing I think that is really notable is its pro-Russia weirdness. To some extent, that includes everything with Syria, too (Russia wanted the U.S. to withdraw forces from Syria).

sarahf: The conceit of this chat was to distill Trump’s presidency into five key moments, which as we’ve discussed can be difficult to do, especially as so many of the things we’ve talked about are interconnected, but if you had to write down your top three or five moments for defining his presidency so far what would they be?

nrakich: Here are my top 10, because I am nothing if not a completist:

Ukraine story breaks/impeachment inquiry launches

Firing Comey/Mueller appointed special counsel

Kavanaugh hearing and subsequent confirmation

McCain votes down Obamacare repeal

Election Day 2018

House votes to impeach

First week of presidency (travel ban and protests)

Government shutdown

Family separation policy and protests

Release of the Mueller report

ameliatd: I’d say my top four moments are:

The impeachment vote (and process, if we’re allowed to cheat a bit and fold that into a “moment”)

Comey’s firing and Mueller’s appointment

The Charlottesville rally and Trump’s reaction

Kavanaugh’s nomination and confirmation hearings

A lot of the things we’ve discussed are significant, but those are the ones that really rise to the top for me — and in some ways encompass elements of the others. Maybe I’d add the government shutdown as a significant moment: Trump tried to force Congress to fulfill a campaign promise and had to back down. Or the family separation policy and travel ban as policies that had a big and serious impact.

perry:

Comey’s firing

The Mueller report

Trump’s reaction to Charlottesville

Trump’s comments in Helsinki

Impeachment

The travel ban

Kavanaugh’s confirmation

The Women’s March

The 2018 midterm elections

Family separation

But that list is not necessarily based on order of importance. And that’s because in answering this, one thing I’m struggling with is things that are important symbolically (Comey’s firing) versus those that affect a lot of people (family separation/travel ban).

nrakich: My overall takeaway from this chat is how many of our top moments were not good ones (i.e., policy accomplishments) for Trump. It just goes to show how turbulent his presidency has been so far — and I’d say not very effective either.

ameliatd: Right, I think that’s an important takeaway, Nathaniel. In nearly all of the moments we mentioned, you can see a current of upheaval, divisiveness and norm-defying behavior running underneath.

perry: These moments do show that Trump’s presidency has been norm-breaking and divisive. I’m not totally sure they show that he has been ineffective, though, because it seems to me that annoying liberals, the political establishment and the media is something he likes and something that his core base of supporters loves. Division, it seems to me, is a feature — not a bug — for Trump, and I think he has been effective in pursuing it.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #A FiveThirtyEight Chat

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