#what if I rebranded for the first time in a decade

[weirdgirlvampire]

just got the url vampireinterviewer…….. 👀

[loganswdc]

every day i learn something new about logan sargeant and his racing career, not just about his performance in f1 but in f2 and previous series, too. and every day i end up so sad because he genuinely has so so much potential and can do so much but he keeps being give a poor hand of cards. this guy out qualified his teammate in f2 TEN TO FOUR. and who was his teammate?? liam lawson. liam joined redbull’s driver academy in february of 2019 while logan only got to join an f1 team’s driver academy in october of 2021. that team was williams. which, as we know, hasn't exactly been the best performing team in recent years. oscar piastri got to join an f1 team’s driver academy in january of 2020 (the renault sport academy, later rebranded as the alpine academy). liam and oscar both got the opportunity to do f1 tests for YEARS prior to their f1 debuts in 2023. liam had 4 and a half years of experience in f1 cars before 2023. oscar had 3 years of experience in f1 cars before 2023. even if it was just testing and practice sessions, it's still something.

what did logan get? one measly fp2 session, post-season testing, and then jumped right in to pre-season testing in 2023. he already had a seat in williams then, so with the experience from before the pre-season testing in 2023 he got to do maybe 800km of testing in an f1 car. the others — in this case i mean oscar, liam, and heck even nyck de vris — had opportunities to drive f1 cars and gain experience for YEARS before logan. if you look at nyck de vris: he got signed to the mclaren young driver programme in 2010. he joined the audi sport racing academy in 2016.  granted, he left the mclaren programme in before the 2019 season and left audi after the 2019 season, too. but he then went to mercedes as a reserve driver and tester for 2020 and afterwards. this means he got just about a DECADE AND A HALF of teams putting their time and energy into training him to join f1.

logan got a year. one. single. fucking year. that is entirely incomparable to the other rookies from 2023, who had so much more experience before hand. and yet logan was jumped into f1 and the expectations were so high for a guy who hasn't had the chance to train and learn and gain experience.

and yet when we look at the 2022 f2 season, logan sargeant, a rookie, was 1 point off from his teammate —the one and only liam lawson — scoring p4 in the championship. he outqualified his teammate 10 to 4. he was the first american to win an f2 race (that is, of course, following the rebrand from gp2 to f2, but regardless, that’s still an important thing to note and an achievement of his that should be celebrated).

logan sargeant has so much potential and if only williams would show him a little more faith unlike what they’ve been doing, if only they’d give him the same upgrades as alex, if only they wouldn’t force him to drive a car 15kg overweight from that of his teammate’s car, if only they wouldn’t force him to use outdated rear and front wings from the season prior. then perhaps he would have a chance to show what he can do. perhaps if he wasn’t stuck in a team with a crap car who have shown zero faith (which has been vehemently obvious since the circus in australia) in him and made him absolutely miserable, a shell of himself — which you can clearly see in recent interviews and photos of him — then maybe he’d be able to show how good he really is. and maybe if williams hadn’t been so adamant about taking him out of f2 so quickly and let him develop for one more year, we’d be seeing headlines that say “logan sargeant, first american f1 driver on the podium since michael andretti in 1993.” and perhaps we could even see him winning races.

no matter what someone says about his current f1 performances — though most base that solely off of where he ends up on the grid rather than looking at his actual driving and seeing how good he is as a driver considering the crap circumstances he’s in — logan sargeant is a better driver than what everyone says. he is trying so insanely hard to get a car that is miles off from the rest of the field to place as high as humanly possible. no one can say that if you put another driver in that car that logan is driving they'd be doing better than he is now. the fact is, they wouldn't be. he's been given an absolute tractor and is expected to score points when that car isn't built for getting in the points. and yet logan managed to get p10 in the miami sprint race — which should be recognized and commended. because he was in an awful car and he absolutely shined that day. that was just the start of showing what he could do. but he hasn't been given the same resources as alex, those being the upgrades, so what more can he do compared to what he's doing now?

and i am actually sitting here crying as i type this because this is a driver who is giving it his all even when the entire world is against him, even when his entire TEAM is against him, and he is persevering to the best of his abilities. and i know exactly what it’s like to sit here, wanting to reach for your dreams and show everyone how good you are, but to have only your closest friends and family on your side, rooting for you. what it’s like to look everywhere around you and see everyone calling you crap and saying you should quit and that you aren’t and never will be good enough. to look around and see your closest friends and family cheering for you, yet feeling like crap because you aren't doing as well as you would want, feeling inferior to everyone around you.

news flash: logan sargeant is and will always be good enough. he just needs the opportunity to show it, and williams is ruining that for him.

and yes, i will defend him with my life. people who try to say otherwise can try to do the same hours — the WEEKS — worth of research that i’ve done about logan and his career because he IS a good driver and HE DESERVES BETTER.

any hate comments towards logan will be deleted, because i have neither the time nor the energy to deal with that and argue with logan haters. i've said all of what i know and can remember about him and his career above, and will add what i can as time goes on and i remember something else or learn something new. if you have the time to hate on logan, you have the time to do your research and examine the fact that he has the potential to do well, but is not in a position for that because of the abhorrent circumstances he is currently in.

thank you for coming to my ted talk. edit: i'd also really recommend reading this twitter thread!! it goes into some more depth on logan and his f2 / f1 career, and even a little bit about his f3 career. it's very informative and articulates much of logan's career and why he is a better driver than many believe very well. https://x.com/herrocult/status/1795747913588761027

[pftones3482]

I want to be excited for the live action Little Mermaid so badly

The Little Mermaid is my favorite Disney movie. Anyone who knows me knows I'm obsessed with mermaids as a whole and will watch any media that has them. Hell, I own my own tails and monofins. But every time I see a gif or a video for the new Little Mermaid, I cringe

(btw, this is NOT because of the casting. If you're against this movie because Ariel is black, you're a racist piece of shit and this post isn't for you)

My issue lies with the CGI. It just looks so FAKE. We've seen through the course of movies and TV shows that use it that CGI does not age well, and that's because technology is constantly improving. What was impressive in 2005 is not impressive in 2023 (Just look at Aquamarine, another movie about mermaids). And the CGI on Ariel and her sisters already looks fake and the movie isn't even out yet!

Compare this image from the trailer

To this screenshot from H20: Just Add Water (a TV show that came out in 2006):

You can see the details of the scales in the second image

The first image is flat. Sure, it's colorful, but it's flat. It's fake. Halle herself is the most beautiful and alive part of the image, because everything else is fake

The difference?

H20 had costume designers, ones specifically trained in mermaid tail making, HAND CRAFT every tail on the show. All of the scales were hand laid, all the tails molded to fit the actors/actresses perfectly, painted by hand

Let's even look at someone with no affiliation to TV or movies:

This is Mermaid Linden, a very well known (in the mermaid community) professional mermaid. You can tell her tail is not as high quality as the ones made for H20 (though it's still a VERY expensive tail) - but it still looks like it's a part of her. You can still see the details. Because professional mermaid tails are also all handmade and molded to fit each person. Even if they don't lay every individual scale, good professional mermaid tail makers are very meticulous about what they do.

This is what happens when Disney refuses to pay practical effects artists. We could have had beautiful, handmade tails that would look real on screen for decades to come and could be reused for promotional purposes - instead, they're underpaying and overworking their non-unionized employees to make CGI tails that don't even look real now.

(to be clear, I'm not shitting on the artists. As I said, they're being underpaid and overworked. This is not their fault)

And before anyone comes and says "But swimming in those is difficult!" Absolutely it is. You should never swim in a professional level tail (or even just fabric tails) without practice and training. Which Disney could have given the cast if they were willing to PAY people (the cast of H20 [a TV SHOW] literally learned how to be mermaids on set. It's been done before)

Disney's "Live Action" needs to be rebranded as "CGI with some real people tossed in" because that's all any of these remakes have been, and it's exhausting when I look at what we could have had.

[0w0tsuki]

It really is disheartening to see how desperate transmisandry bros are committed to find SOME WAY, ANY WAY to call transfems who disagree with them TERFs. Like when it first started off it was lazy, dismissive, and just showed that they really had no idea what they were talking about. But then they doubled down and kept attempting to rebrand to try and spin it as progressive. Like it's this Holy Grail of trans andro theory that if they unlock it then they will be able to win all arguments forever and be able to shove any Transfem they don't like out of being able to describe her own oppression.

Like first it was drudging up the term beaddel from nearly a decade. A long dead group of "the one time a group of transfems were genuinely being awful" and mystifying them to warn about secretive "trans lesbian separatists" (literally a term based on "lesbian separatist". A term coined in the SCUM TERF manifesto) trying to sell you "radfem koolaid"

Then they thought "well it might work if we changed the E to an I" and started saying that any transfems using TME/TMA terminology were sex essentialists (even though it's not. Cis men and women are also TME) and "TIRF's" when literally no self respecting trans woman calls themselves that. The few people that do identify with the term TIRF are TME'S who think the trans people who are made with them "don't know how to read" instead of you know, recognizing their ideology is still rooted in bio essentialism.

Then they tried various tactics of redefining TERF. From "all trans people are equally targeted by TERFs and it does harm to say their primary target is trans women" (They see trans men as lost little girls and they want them to detransition and be "saved". They see trans women as violent predators, a threat to women by virtue of existing, and want us DEAD. These are not the same) to "actually their bigotry stems from a hatred of men!" (Actually most TERFs are trad wives. They constantly ally themselves with anti feminist movements. And one of their most prolific members posie parker infamously asked "fathers with gun" to walk into women's restrooms to kill trans women)

Then it was trying to delineate radfeminism from TERFism. Even though just referring to themselves as "radfem", just the same as "gender critical" was a part of a rebranding effort by TERFs themselves when the term TERF got widely recognized as a member of a bigoted hate group. Any "cis radfems who aren't TERFs" that they talk about are just TERFs who think the term is a slur. But that doesn't matter to transmisandry bros because it allows them to hold those terms as two separate things and more importantly as "something separate from TERF but functionally the same to label trans women as"

And now apparently it's "radical transfeminism"? Which come on. You aren't even trying at this point. It's honestly sickening how devoted the group that sells itself as being for "TransUnity" and "stopping the infighting" is so determined to find a term that will allow them to shut out and exclude any Transfem they don't like.

[traintrainingmontage]

What I like most about Neilloey as a ship is the idea that they very much feel like (best) friends to lovers, and that despite their seperation, what they meant to each other and how they helped shape each other can't and won't be erased. They've left such deep, indelible marks on each other's lives, their relationship built on quiet nights with Neil on a standard-gauge siding next to Skarloey's shed and the two of them talking and whispering to each other in the starlit hours, taking comfort in each other's presence, dreaming of what tomorrow would bring, and over time, dreaming of each other. It's not passion or mutual interest that drives their eventual shift in relationship from that of friends to partners, but trust—trust built over the course of decades.

I really do think that, second only to Rheneas, Neil was one of the most important and impactful engines in Skarloey's life, and the two complement each other incredibly well. I've spoken about it in previous posts, but Neil's calm, analytical, laid-back attitude is a wonderful foil to Skarloey's initially bouncy, exuberant nature. Given that the two knew each other for at least 50 years (Skarloey arrived on Sodor in 1865 and Neil survived the founding of the NWR in 1915 before disappearing by WWI's end), it's quite possible and even likely that the two rubbed off on each other personality-wise, with Neil becoming a bit more energetic and Skarloey becoming a bit more calm and thoughtful, as we see him in later years. I imagine that their bond becomes incredibly tight, with the two of them being each other's confidants for everything they can't share with their respective siblings.

When the war seperates them, I think that Skarloey is heartbroken, but the work doesn't stop. He has to mourn in the wee hours, when he thinks Rheneas is sleeping, and hope and pray that they might be reunited one day. Neil would want him to keep going, he knows that. So he will, and he keeps his cherished thoughts of Neil safe and deep in the pit of his flame, and focuses on what he needs to do.

100 years pass. It's 2017. And... Neil is found. He's still technically owned by the Crovan's Gate Mining Company, which has since rebranded, but that still makes him one of Sir Handel Brown's engines, and Sir Handel Brown IV is all too happy to reunite Skarloey and Neil. And there's the worry of awkwardness, for it's been so long, but then... they just pick up right where they left off.

It's so easy, it seems almost effortless, and in some ways, it is; time has passed, but the trust has remained. And although neither of them are the same engines—the scars of years of trauma are etched deeply into Skarloey's frames and psyche both, and the guilt of abandoning his partner and almost being tempted to let himself answer the call of the void and let himself succumb and rest will forever haunt Neil—that also adds another depth, a new dimension, to their relationship.

Skarloey and Neil are not young, new engines. They know how to work together to overcome. And so they do. They talk to each other. They communicate. They unload. They support. And in the end, yes, they both have changed. But who they are—the exuberant red engine whose love runs as deep as his namesake lake, and the calm green box tank who always has good insights to share—haven't changed a bit. They're still the best friends who can talk until morning, still the partners who can entrust each other with their deepest secrets, who want each other to be the first thing they see in the morning and the last thing at night.

Imo, what makes Neilloey so great is that theirs is a relationship that could overcome such a long absence, and their bond is as rock-solid as it is because it had so much time to grow organically, between two complementary personalities. Sure, they had their fair share of friction, but nothing that couldn't be solved fairly easily, especially once Skarloey settled down a bit personality-wise. There's something comforting about the ship, and part of it is meaning so much to someone that you're not forgotten even if you disappear. Another part is recognizing that even as time has worn you both down, you're still the same engines that fell in love with each other over a century ago. Your time together gave you the strength to make it through your time apart. And you get to that point through trust, through care, and through being vulnerable—and having that vulnerability reciprocated—all of which is very typical of (best) friends to lovers, between two wise, kind engines who very much deserve only nice things after what they've been through.

Needless to say, Neilloey is my TTTE OTP for a reason. ❤️ 💚

[dan-whoell]

rebrand

Word count: 3915

Phil makes some changes and meets a boy named Dan.

Read on AO3

There’s a boy in Phil’s bed.

It’s Saturday morning and there’s a boy in his bed and he can only half remember how they got there. He knows it started late on Thursday night, scrolling through an ex-friend’s instagram, watching the two of them grow up side by side until it was only one of them changing. Not ex-friend in the sense that it ended particularly badly, but in the sense that phone calls and texts came less often, because as people grow older they often grow apart. They become different people and that’s just life, isn’t it? The friend cut his hair, started wearing proper adult clothes, has a beard. (Phil had one too, for a while, but then he no longer wanted to string someone along like that and so they broke up. He’s pretty sure she’s engaged now.) He watched years pass and appear in his friend’s face, and he watched himself plateau, stay exactly the same and never step outside of his comfort zone. Easier to remain perpetually a child than realize his evolution was wrong.

He has other friends, acquaintances, and they make jokes about how he hasn’t changed in over a decade. Okay, fine, his hair has gotten the tiniest bit shorter but it’s still the same style. A graphic tee and skinny jeans? Groundbreaking. He swapped his old shoes for converses that have rainbows on the soles, but he makes sure to keep his feet on the ground, always. It normally doesn’t bother him. Sure, there’s been an itch under his skin for several years now, a prickling sensation when yet another person claims to know him. That doesn’t mean that he isn’t fine. He is fine. He’s great. The itch comes and he ignores it and things continue on.

But that night. That night he let himself scratch it, nails digging into soil beneath his skin, down and down and down until he unearthed a version of himself that he’d long since buried. A version that was open, outspoken, unapologetic. A version that saw opportunities and seized them. A version that never asked can I but only how will I. 

He thought that by Friday morning the itch would be gone, the desire mentally explored enough that he could move on. It wasn’t, of course. In fact, it was so much worse than it had ever been. All of his rumination had made it seem possible. He could make changes. He had the power to call a salon and make an appointment for an hour out. He could so easily get on the train afterward and find a store full of the clothing he’s fantasized about for years. Then a bar, have some drinks, maybe even meet someone. Truly embody the kind of confidence he’s only ever dreamed about. He had the power to do anything he wanted.

There’s a boy in Phil’s bed and yes, technically speaking he knows exactly how they got there. A mental spiral and a few too many drinks can take a guy anywhere, but the details are fuzzy. He can’t remember whose idea it was first, which of them plucked up the courage to suggest spending the night together, who insisted on it being Phil’s flat that they stumbled back to. All he knows is a dimple, warm brown eyes and knees pressing into his own. Glances from strangers gave him goosebumps, but a hand on a wrist and a soft laugh in his ear drowned out everything else. A night unlike any other that Phil has experienced.

But it’s morning now, and the person beside him is a stranger. He doesn’t know what the protocol is here. His first instinct is escape, slinking off to his kitchen to make coffee and pretend like he does this all the time. Maybe the guy would get the hint and they’d avoid interaction all together. Or should he say something, wake him and tell him to get lost? That seems harsh, and besides, he’s not entirely sure he wants to say goodbye just yet. There was so much laughter last night. So much light. And maybe some of it was nerves but not all. Part of him wants to see if there could be something here, something more than one night and an awkward morning.

Phil takes a breath, leaning heavily toward running away, but then the stranger stirs, blinking and looking at Phil through his eyelashes. Christ, who gave this guy warm brown eyes like that, a vat of chocolate he could fucking drown in and say thank you for the opportunity. Add it to the list of reasons they ended up here. In Phil’s bed. In the morning.

He has to get out of here.

“Morning,” the stranger says just as Phil manages to stammer out “Coffee!”.

There’s a beat of silence between them as they stare at one another, neither of them quite sure what to say. It becomes one of those moments when someone’s brain is screaming at them to say something, anything, but there are no words available. The silence stretches, and with every passing second it just gets more awkward. This right here might actually be the longest two people in this situation have ever gone without speaking. It must be. It’s fucking excruciating, and-

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

But Phil doesn’t hear what it is the stranger didn’t mean to do, because the broken silence has propelled him from the bed, and the room, and before he even realizes he’s moving he’s in his kitchen.  Thank whatever gods above that he’d at least worn boxers to bed. God, why didn’t he think this through? How had he failed so spectacularly in his stupid personal transformation? How the fuck did he think changing his clothes and acting out of character would actually change his personality? He’s anxious by nature and he hates unfamiliar situations. Of course, bring a stranger home. That should go well.

“Good job, Phil,” he mumbles to himself, shaking ground coffee into the filter a little more enthusiastically than is strictly necessary. He ends up with dried coffee all over his counter, which is pretty par for the course this morning. “This just gets better and better.”

From behind him comes the sound of a throat clearing, and when he spins around he finds the stranger, dressed, and with a small smile on his lips. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah,” Phil lies, figuring it’s better than the slight breakdown truth. “Made a mess, um- do you want coffee?” He hooks a thumb toward the aforementioned mess, desperate for something to do with his hands. He’s acutely aware that he’s in boxers and nothing else. Meanwhile the guy is in dark jeans and some kind of black and white lace print button down. There’s an image in there he can’t quite make out. A skull maybe? He’s hot, is the point, and Phil is wildly undressed for the occasion. “It- It’ll be a few minutes, but you’re welcome to stay and wait.” This is another lie, Phil would very much like to have his freak out alone, thank you, but he’s not really in charge of his own words at the moment. “Not stay, I just mean- you know, wait for coffee-”

“It’s okay,” the stranger cuts him off. “I have shit to take care of this morning, but thanks.”

“Right, of course.” Of course the guy doesn’t want to stay. Why would he? “Then I guess I’ll see you later…uh-” He’d been so ready to use the guys name, used the obvious intonation. Except he can't remember the guy’s name and he just feels like an idiot.

But his ineptitude only gets him a smile. “I’m Dan.”

“Dan,” he repeats like an automatic reflex. “I knew that, too, I just-”

“Sure you did.”

“I did, it was on the tip of my tongue!”

“Believe me, I know where it was, Phil.”

There’s a beat of silence before they both dissolve into giggles, and something like relief floods through Phil. He’s okay. They’re laughing, and it suddenly feels so easy. He can relax with this guy. With Dan.

Still, he has to explain himself a little.

“I- christ, I’m sorry,” he manages . “I don’t really do this.”

“Do what?” The corner of Dan’s mouth pulls up in a crooked smile. “Bring home random guys you meet in clubs? Or have conversations with them the next morning?”

“Neither,” he admits. “I was having a weird day yesterday-”

Dan nods, and for a brief second the tiny spark of hope he’d felt flares up in his chest. “Understood. I’ll go and we can forget this ever happened.” Just like that the flame is gone, snuffed out with just a few words. What was he thinking? How did he think he could be this person? The drinks and the clothes and the-

“Oh god.” He’d forgotten. Somehow, in all of the excitement of the new confident self he’d decided on, he’d forgotten about his hair. “I’m blonde, aren’t I?”

He’s met with a raised eyebrow from the boy who said he was leaving, but hasn’t. “You are. Is this news for you?” He gestures over his shoulder. “Should I call someone? Are you having a breakdown?”

“No, I-” God, how the fuck did he get here? A crisis of self, yeah, but how did that spiral become explaining his fucking crisis to a stranger in his home? A stranger who slept in his bed and kissed him breathless and touched him so gently he thought he might melt. He owes this man some sort of an explanation, but he cant bring himself to start at the beginning. “It’s new,” he says finally, like that explains anything at all. “I just had it done yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Dan echoes, his eyebrows very nearly hitting his hairline. “You dyed your hair blonde then picked me up in a club?” Of course, Phil has to nod because that is the exact sequence of events, minus the crop top and leather jacket purchase. Dan just shakes his head. “Is this a crisis twink thing?”

“No,” Phil says quickly. Because it’s not. At least, he doesn’t think it is. His breakdown has very little to do with his sexuality he’s pretty sure. Okay, there is the undeniable fact that his breakdown directly lead to the stranger in front of him. But it’s not like he was having the breakdown about his sexuality, it was his entire existence that caused the problem, and part of the solution happened to be casual sex with a beautiful stranger. Dan is simply a side effect. Correlation, not causation. Something like that. “No, this isn’t a crisis twink thing.”

“Right…” It comes out slow, and he knows that Dan does not believe him. “Well we can unpack that later, right now I’m actually late and there are people who will kill me for such an infraction.”

Phil finds himself nodding. “Okay, yeah, don’t want to be responsible for your murder.”

It isn’t until after the door is closed and he’s all alone does he wonder what Dan meant by later. They have no way of contacting one another since they never exchanged numbers, and he can’t imagine Dan intends on randomly showing up at his door. What if Phil had some prior commitment and he won’t be home? He will be, of course, because he’s almost always home, but that’s beside the point.

It occurs to him that Dan might have said it out of habit, that he didn’t mean it literally. Yes, that has to be it. They had one night together and that was it. Odds are, he will never see Dan again.

***

A few hours later Phil’s phone buzzes in the middle of an episode of The Office. Initially he assumes it’s a family member checking on him, maybe a friend he hasn’t gotten back to recently. Basically, the usual. Instead it’s a number he doesn’t recognize but a name he does.

is dan

want to resume our earlier conversation? free therapy that’s worth what you’re paying?

??

howd you get my number?

can’t reveal my secrets unless i know you’re really cool

im very cool. remember my hair and my jacket?

i called myself from your phone after you fell asleep

why??

bc i knew we’d have that deep conversation this morning

really?

no you walnut i wanted to hook up again. then the conversation happened and now i want to see you for multiple reasons.

okay

do you want to meet somewhere?

i literally woke up next to you i already know where you live.

im at lunch now but i’ll text you when im on my way later

He sends a thumbs up then tosses his phone to the other end of the couch, hands shaking. There’s no reason for him to be so stressed out at the prospect of seeing Dan again, and yet. It dominates his thoughts all day, an ever changing monologue of what he’s going to say in regards to his mild breakdown this morning. The easy thing to do would be start at… not the beginning, exactly, but close enough. The instagram post and all the thoughts it dredged up. He won’t go into detail about every issue, or how long they’ve been going on, but he’ll give the general idea. Nonchalantly, he suddenly realized he wanted a change and he went after it. No big deal.

The important thing is that he’s prepared.

***

Some time after nine pm there’s a knock on his door, followed immediately by a text.

open up

Phil takes a deep breath, steeling himself for this. He can be cool. He can get his shit together and be a normal, regular person. He definitely knows how to do that. He starts pacing. There’s definitely not a pit of anxiety in his stomach, begging him to block Dan and pretend that he’s not home. Maybe he could move. The odds of his landlord noticing him leaving are slim, it would only become a problem when the guy doesn’t get his rent check. Could he manage pay another month and secure a new place to live? It’s possible. He could call his parents and have an extended visit, he’d figure it out-

His thought spiral is interrupted by his name being called through the door. “Phil? You know I can hear you moving around in there, right?”

Shit. Even with an entire day to have it together, he hasn’t thought it through enough. He should have said no earlier, he should have never gone out last night, he should never have let Dan think he’s someone worth getting to know. He’s too awkward and too anxious and-

Again, his name through the door. “Phil? Will you please let me in before your neighbors call the police?”

With no other choice, he opens the door to find Dan, but he’s different than he was earlier. Gone is the hot, put together guy from this morning, and in his place is a pair of black sweatpants and a black t-shirt that reads I think he’s gay with an arrow pointing up. Somehow this is even hotter than the lace print version of Dan, and Phil kind of has zero interest in exploring the state of his mental health right now. He has far more important matters on his mind.

“Hi.”

"Hi."

He doesn't know who reaches for who first, or how after one night together they've managed to get on the same wavelength where they don't even need to say words out loud to one another. But they are, and before he knows it they're horizontal on the couch, all kiss swollen mouths and wandering hands. With Dan on top of him, it's like nothing else matters, it all melts away into nothingness.

By eleven there’s a boy in Phil’s bed again.

“So,” Dan says, his head on Phil’s chest and his fingertips drawing idle patterns around Phil’s collarbone. “Are you gonna tell me about the blonde now?”

Right, the actual talking portion of this get together. He’d kind of forgotten about that part of the agreement, more interested in losing himself in sensation and fully ignoring any lurking anxieties. “It’s not as big a deal as I made it out to be. It’s just a change.” So much for his carefully prepared monologue.

“A change,” Dan echoes. “You dyed your hair blonde then took a strange man home, both things that are admittedly out of the ordinary for you. It sounds like more than just a change.”

Phil wants to ask if this is how casual hookups usually go. It had been awhile before Dan, and he’s never been great at the casual part of it all. He has a tendency to grow attached rather quickly, sometimes blowing things up bigger than they are. Making them more important than they are.

But this, the way Dan is curled into him, the way every touch is incredibly gentle and full of something akin to adoration- he can't be alone in how he's feeling. Can he? After all, Dan was the one to put the pieces together on Phil's crisis. He thinks of the text now i want to see you for multiple reasons. In twenty four hours they've made something here, and nothing good starts without the truth.

So he explains it all. The rotted ties and the instagram spiral and the itch deep under his skin. He tells Dan how he’d always wanted to go blonde, had even tried once but royally fucked it up. It happened when he was still figuring out his emo aesthetic, and it was such a brief period everyone forgets it ever happened. He feels ridiculous, pouring out all of his insecurities to this person he’s only just met, but there’s also a strange sense of peace. Dan has no preconceived ideas of him, so he can be really, genuinely honest and he doesn’t have to worry about the repercussions.

“Let me ask you this,” Dan says when he’s finished, and there’s so little judgment in his tone it’s almost jarring. He simply sounds curious. “The black emo fringe, graphic tee and skinny jeans thing- why’d you start doing it?”

Phil considers it, but the question doesn't make any sense to him. “What do you mean why?”

“Well, you started dressing a certain way when you were a teenager. Why that way? Why not a different aesthetic completely, or something like what you’re trying to achieve now?”

It still seems like a weird question, but he gives it his best shot. “Because I wanted to, I guess? I liked the look, I thought it was really cool.”

“And now you don’t.”

“No, it's still cool, it’s just-”

“Not who you are anymore.”

A beat of quiet. “Not who I want to be, I think.”

“Good news, Phil, you can be literally whoever you want. People change. You wanted to do the emo thing for a while, so you did. And now you want to do the blonde crisis twink thing, so you are. It’s fine.”

“It’s not a crisis twink thing!” he insists, but he can’t help the laugh that accompanies the protest. It dies down quickly though, thoughts of his family and friends’ reactions creeping into his head. “Is it weird that I’m worried about telling people? Like, it’s a joke that I haven’t changed, but also it’s not? I kind of feel like I should have just stuck it out, made more gradual changes.”

“It’s your life, Phil. You should be doing what you want.”

“See logically I know that, but in practice…” he lets the sentence trail off, skimming his fingertips up Dan’s arm. In practice he’s done it before, hasn’t he? He’d wanted to go blonde, so he did. He wanted new clothes, so he bought some. He wanted Dan, and now here’s Dan in his bed, encouraging him to continue being selfish. "I'm thinking about how they'll react."

"Does it matter? It's your hair." He reaches up to tousle it, knuckles dragging gently across Phil's cheekbone before his hand settles back to where it was. "You were who they wanted for long enough."

"I was who I wanted to be too, it wasn't just about them."

“At one point it was about you, and then it became about your brand-”

“No,” Phil protests . “I'm just a normal guy, I don't have a brand. ”

“Everyone has a brand, Phil. It's the way people perceive you.” Dan props himself up some, hand sliding from Phil's collarbone to his sternum, right in the middle of his chest. “Here's the thing, right, no one actually knows another person, they only know their idea of them. We get the bones of someone, standard facts and childhood stories or whatever, and then we fill in all the gaps. But we're just making shit up. We might get it close but it's never a true representation of who that person is.”

The way Dan presents it, he finds it hard to disagree. But. “What's that got to do with me treating myself like a brand?”

“You figured out how people fill you in, and now you're scared to tell them they're wrong. It sounds like you're doing the opposite, like you're leaning into the idea they have of you even though it's not who you really are.”

Phil cannot speak. The weight of Dan's hand feels enormous, pressing down into his heart.  How is it that Dan, a virtual stranger, has cut so succinctly into him when friends he's had for years can't see it? Maybe it’s simply a matter of Dan’s outside perspective, maybe it would be just as obvious to anyone else hearing Phil’s story. Maybe his friends are too close to see him objectively. Maybe Dan is extremely observant and it’s a total coincidence that they’ve stumbled upon each other.

Maybe it’s more than that.

“To be honest,” he manages to say “I’m not sure I actually know who I am.”

Dan does not miss a beat. “You’re the person who picks up random guys in clubs then pours your heart out to them the next night,” he says, grinning. “And you’re blonde while you do it.

It cuts the tension in him like a hot knife through butter.“I am not the pick up random guys guy, I promise you,” he says, the words coming out around a scoff.

“Oh no?” Dan dips his head, ghosting his lips along Phil's jaw. “What makes me special then?

Truthfully, Phil doesn’t know the answer. But it is an accurate statement. Dan is special, somehow sees past the brand as it were and into Phil’s heart, right under where he has his hand. “I don’t know,” he says. “Glad it happened though.”

“Where else are you gonna get a free private therapist who will also have sex with you?”

“I could probably call around.”

Dan presses his face into Phil’s neck, his laugh warm and wet in the skin there. “Right,” he says, turning his head, gentle breath skimming over Phil’s throat. “Well if anyone answers let me know. Until then if you need help figuring shit out, I’m happy to be a sounding board."

It is quite possibly the greatest offer Phil has ever heard. “Might take you up on that.”

“Good. You’d better.”

There’s a boy in Phil’s bed, and he thinks it might be the start of something real.

[swolesome]

What if I told you that the antidote to Islamophobia isn't Antisemitism?

CW for this post (you have seen the title.) I feel like this shouldn't need explaining, but merciful Brigid, some of the shit I have seen. It's time for Led Tasso to come out. I'm not Jewish, let's just get that out of the way first, but my position on Palestine is largely informed by Jewish people who have been protesting for decades about the horrific treatment of Palestinians being done by a settler colonial state appropriating their religion, culture, language, and trauma. Fascist governments weaponizing fear and hiding behind religion is a well known tactic, and the fact that so many people have put this readily available information from their minds, specifically in this conversation, speaks to how incredibly pernicious antisemitism really is. I'm treading lightly here because as someone who's not Jewish, it really isn't my place to explain the cultural complexities, trauma, or general experiences of Jewish people. But if you haven't seen those discussions crossing your feed, you should be looking inward and asking why. Because if you're not invested in Jewish voices right now (or in general), that's a red flag for the kind of rhetoric you've internalized and the struggles you take seriously. The position I can speak from, however, is one of being committed to challenging all forms of systemic violence and oppression. So from that stance, and I cannot stress this enough: If you are fighting for some at cost to others, you are reinforcing oppression. It is wild to me that "Nazi" has come to mean "The worst thing a person can be" without recognition of the fact that the ideology is inherently antisemitic, that this is its centrepiece, that Jews are the number one target. This separation is, once again, an example of how insidious this brand of hatred really is--blatant erasure of the way Jewish people are uniquely targeted. I know a lot of trans people follow me, so here's a fun fact: You know the "Doctors are transing our kids to damage fertility rates!" conspiracy? You can thank antisemitism for that, too! It's literally just a rebrand of the Great Replacement conspiracy, which is modernized "protection of Aryan bloodlines." The most recent chapter of "My Life as A Bigot" by Joanne Klan Rowling isn't just another gleeful display of her hatred of trans people, it's another addition to the laundry list of antisemitic beliefs and talking points she's been peddling for years. The Charlottesville "unite the right" Nazi rally was spurred on by the removal of confederate statues and anti-Black racism. What is it they were chanting, again? Anyone remember? Any of this ringing a bell? OH RIGHT. "Jews will not replace us." So many other forms of systemic violence are steeped in the poisonous rhetoric of antisemitism. Acting like this isn't the case damns our Jewish siblings who need us while weakening our understanding of the oppressive forces we're fighting. "One struggle" includes all of us. The fact that the Likud government uses accusations of antisemitism as a cover for their violence should make you more diligent about condemning antisemitism, not less. Because letting them weaponize something that is already so widespread and destructive makes it that much harder to dismantle.

Do not stop talking about Palestine. Do not stop speaking up against the horrors of settler colonial violence. But if you can't do this without throwing another group of oppressed people under the bus, you need to question where you learned your resistance tactics, because the company you're keeping there should disgust and terrify you.

[skepticalarrie]

If he’s not forced to be closeted anymore than one would think he actually enjoys to endlessly stunt with woman and to be connected with 9374739 per year when officially single.

I get it that it’s a deal made by both sides and he agrees to stunting/pr relationship and noone forced him to do it but wouldn’t he be happier if noone (gp=tabloids/het harries) would be interested in his love/sex life and his fake womanizer image (which needs to kept alive) and so he could be single for longer period of time? He always says how he’s been raised to not lie but by stunting he’s not only lying but he’s actually gaslighting everyone - those who knows he’s queer and his female fans who think that they have a chance. Maybe I understand it wrong but stunting/pr relationships are industry games old as times and I just think he hates to play this game but there’s no other option if he wants to get what he wants. As it’s said hate the game not the players. So if he’s not forced to be closeted anymore, he’s still forced to stunt with woman because he needs to keep his image - which they gave him once 14 years ago and he’s still stuck with it - and needs to stay in gp eyes because his love/sex life is this what sells most (beside his music ofc).

I agree with a lot of what you've said, anon, but I think it's more complicated than that. The question here is whether Harry Styles TM could survive without a stunt in the first place. Personally, I don't think so. I don't think he can still be in the closet and avoid any stunts, one thing doesn’t work without the other in his case. His love life and sexuality have been the number one marketing and promotional tools in his career so far.

It's one thing to keep him single and under the radar for a short period, but for years? Decades? A coming out might eventually happen in the future, of course, I’m always hoping for a rebranding where this would be possible. But from what we've seen in the last few years, it doesn't seem like it will happen anytime soon. So are they just going to keep him single for years and years while his highly sexualized image drives his career? What would his songs be about? How would he create a connection with fans? It's just not realistic after so much time reinforcing the same image of him. For now, I think that's what he has to work with in exchange for privacy in his actual personal life. He doesn't like it, and I think that's pretty clear, but again, these are his choices!

[saviorellie]

this will do.

pairing : ellie williams x reader

pov : third person , she/her pronouns

word count : 1,282 words

warning(s) : just fluff!!! college!ellie au!!! pinning!!!

notes : I’M ALIVE. yearly rebrand for the new hyperfixation. i need ellie williams desperately. that’s all!

masterlist

“y/n,” was the first word ellie spoke into the phone. “what’s up?”

her backpack was slipping off her shoulder. she just let it fall.

“can i come in?” she asked quietly. there was movement on the other end of the line.

“of course, y/n. you don’t need to ask.”

she didn’t respond.

“i’ll be out in a minute, okay? just got out of the shower- ‘m changing.”

she opened the door to her friend’s dorm room with the spare key ellie had gotten just for her. her space was warm and comforting and smelled of her, smokey and like home. but the tears came anyway.

ellie could feel it because she knows her. and has or ever a decade. but she didn’t expect to find her like this.

on a normal day, she would’ve had her backpack zipped open on the couch, her notebooks and laptop and ridiculous assortment of pens and highlighters and pencils spread out across the table. she would’ve pulled the blinds up and ridiculed ellie for failing to let light into her small apartment. she would’ve been rifling though her bare cabinets, trying and failing to find food to cook her an actual meal so she isn’t just living off of noodles and apple juice and weed. she would’ve glanced up at her best friend with gentle eyes and graced her with an even gentler hug.

but today, in the solitude and darkness of ellie’s apartment, she was sitting folded into herself on the couch.

it was easy for ellie to approach her, it was easy to crouch down and sit on the coffee table in front of her. if was difficult, however, to realize that she was avoiding eye contact. she knew. she was crying.

and there was just silence. ellie waited, watching her form shake while her heart sunk deeper into her chest with every passing second.

then finally, finally, she called out for her.

“ellie…” she whispered, and she was moving.

the couch cushions shifted as she sat next to her, pulling her in. as ellie tucked her head under her chin, her throat swelled with fear; she rarely saw this side of her and wanted nothing more than to take her pain away.

she was the composed one. she saw everything in her life in a positive light, taking things as they were and accepting whatever happened to her. she was compassionate and a great listener and an even better friend. the range of her emotions was about as diverse as one could imagine, but she was so talented in hiding her stresses that at times, even ellie didn’t notice until it built up so high that it just poured out.

here she was, the girl-ellie’s girl-that was always taking care of her and everyone else before herself. her work and her high expectations for herself had reduced to a bleak, discouraged figure in her friend’s embrace.

“angel,” ellie muttered, because she was still crying and her heart felt heavy and sometimes the line between best friend and more blurred and she forgot her place. she didn’t need a lover right now. she needed her best friend.

“i just… i just want to give up. i’m so tired,” she slurred long after ellie had lost track of time. once the tears had ceased and the shaking had subsided.

ellie just closed her eyes, searching for her hand in the dark. it made her so sad that the stress of college and work and bills and just living affected her hard-wired, determined, passionate self. she wanted to take it away and make if feel better. because that’s what she always did for her.

“it’ll be okay. you’ll, we’ll, figure it out. you always do.”

she nodded, just slightly, against her chest.

“i know,” she said. but the defeated sound would not leave her.

ellie didn’t really think through what she was doing as her hand brushed through her hair, brushing it back from her face. she was just exhausted. she needed comfort and ellie was going to give it as best she could.

“you gotta let me take care of you,” she sighed. “you can sleep here, if you want.”

she grunted out a noise of disapproval.

“no,” she muttered, but the softness in her voice betrayed her.

“you’re so stubborn,” ellie shot back and she laughed, just a little. and that was enough.

ellie swiveled on her heel when she heard her shuffling into the kitchen, smiling a bit at her disheveled appearance. it was harder than normal to ignore that she was in love with her on days like this.

she came right over and leaned into her side. naturally, her arm circled ellie’s waist and ellie’s arm rested on top of her shoulders as she peered into the pot she was stirring on the stove.

“what is going on?” she scoffed, because she was making actual food.

what was going on was that she has been serious earlier. about taking care of her.

after she’d fallen asleep earlier, ellie situated her on the couch and piled blankets on top of her because she was freezing all the time. although she didn’t want to chance being gone when she woke up, she didn’t have any food in her apartment and the protective side of her, reserved only for the girl sleeping on her couch, told her that was a problem. weighing her options, she went to the convenience store a couple streets over and grabbed the ingredients her favorite soup called for.

she pulled away from her best friend and hoisted herself up onto the counter next to the stove, leaning her head back on the wooden cabinet. ellie could tell she was thinking, so she left her alone. that is, until she noticed she was watching her.

“what?” she asked gently.

she just stared at her for a second. her beautiful, kind best friend. her auburn hair was falling out her bun and into her face and she had to resist the urge to push it back.

“thank you.”

ellie’s head tilted to the side.

“for what?” she moved a little closer and the girl beside her shrugged.

“i don’t know. it’s just…” she looked down at her lap, shifting on the granite countertop. “I’m still exhausted and overwhelmed and sad, but i know that you’ll be there so… i don’t know. it’s okay.”

she opened her arms lazily in ellie’s direction, the corners of her lips lifting in the slightest manner. so ellie hugged her. and her heart hurt.

then she pulled away, that dangerous thought invading her mind, the idea that the emotion in her eyes when she looked at her was how it felt for her to be in love with her best friend. the idea that she should risk it all and press a kiss to her cheek or forehead and gauge her reaction.

so instead, ellie stirred her soup and sat with her in comfortable silence.

“i love you,” she whispered, playing with the rings on her fingers.

ellie felt her breath hitch. she had said i love you to her before. but this felt different. she just didn’t know if it felt different for her too.

“i… i love you too.” she reached for her hand, running her thumb over the back of it. the silence returned, but ellie was no longer comfortable.

ellie didn’t know if what she felt would ever become reality- being more with her. but she did know that she was never going to stop caring for her and releasing her stress and doing little things to make her smile up at her with the glow she only held in her apartment.

but for now, this is plenty. this is enough. this will do.

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

‘I’ve starred in The Archers for 20 years but could never afford my own farm’

Fame & Fortune: The BBC actor on money mistakes, theatre hecklers, and his 20-year radio stint

Andrew Wincott, who plays Adam Macy on BBC Radio 4’s The Archers, joined the cast in 2003 (Credit: Gary Moyes/The Archers)

Andrew Wincott is an actor, best known for playing Adam in the BBC Radio 4 drama The Archers, which he joined 20 years ago. After studying English and then doing teacher training at Oxford, the 61-year-old taught for two years before going to Webber Douglas drama school, where fellow actors Hugh Bonneville and Rebecca Front were contemporaries.

He then worked on the regional theatre circuit, and later became a member of the BBC Radio Drama Company, before joining the cast of The Archers in 2003. The father of one lives in Clapham, south London.

How did your start in life affect your outlook on money?

My two brothers and I grew up in Oxfordshire where my parents ran a catering business.

But the 1970s were a difficult time for a lot of businesses, so after 10 years enjoying an idyllic life in the countryside, we moved into the flat above the restaurant and cake shop the family owned, Wincott’s, in Banbury.

Work always came first for my parents, so for a number of years we didn’t go away in the summer.

Did you receive pocket money?

Yes, and I spent it on Marvel comics, and later on albums like Pink Floyd's The Dark Side Of The Moon and Wish You Were Here, which I played endlessly in the mid-70s.

What was your first job?

After leaving school in 1978, before going to university, I worked at the Dragon Prep School in Oxford doing a variety of jobs, one of which involved keeping the headmaster’s drinks cupboard well-stocked, and serving gin and tonics at garden parties.

The G&Ts I poured were notoriously generous. Occasionally I even got to ‘sample’ the headmaster’s gin myself.

But my first proper acting job, which also secured my Equity card [a trade union for the performing arts], came after I gatecrashed an audition in 1987 and landed the part of Alec in Tess of the D’ Urbervilles at the Orchard Theatre Company in Barnstaple, which toured the West Country.

Wincott says starring in The Archers is like having ‘a second family’. Pictured here with Stephen Kennedy and Mairead McKinley (Credit: The Archers/David Burges)

How long did you work in regional theatre for? Was it lucrative?

The best part of a decade, appearing everywhere from Colchester to Perth, and Harrogate to Theatr Clwyd in Wales, doing both Shakespeare and modern plays, often playing leading roles.

Money was minimal – I was paid about £160-£170 a week on my first acting job – but the Equity Touring allowance helped.

Regional theatre allowed me to hone my skills as an actor. Once, I was heckled by an inebriated audience member who loudly greeted every entrance I made in Tess with a cry of “Asshole!”.

However, you just have to stay focused. He was gone by the interval – probably back to the bar. This was in Falmouth, now affectionately rebranded among friends as “Foulmouth”!

Have you experienced any lean times as an actor?

It took me nine months to land my first proper acting job, and until then I was working on the fringe – just earning expenses, or profit sharing if I was lucky.

Most actors have good years and bad years. So you have to set aside money to see you through the lean spells, as well as save enough to pay your tax bill at the end of the year.

How did you land the part of Adam in The Archers?

I actually played a Danish agricultural student for a few months in the 1990s – but then, a decade or so later, I was invited to audition with a dozen other actors for the role of Adam at Pebble Mill in 2003.

I heard nothing for 10 days, but was then asked to come back for a recall [second audition] and was offered the role.

Now, it's like having a second family. This month I’ve been a cast regular for almost exactly 20 years. Providing you aren’t written out (or killed off), there’s a certain security.

Coincidentally, my mother grew up on a Home Farm [a key location in the radio drama] and went to the same school, although not at the same time, as Godfrey Baseley, who created The Archers.

Does The Archers pay enough for you to buy a farm of your own?

The cast only works on The Archers for about one week in the month – we record blocks of episodes several weeks ahead of transmission – and radio pays somewhere between theatre and television.

So I doubt it would pay for a farm in the UK, though it might eventually just pay for a small farmhouse in rural Andalucia, where I enjoy spending time.

So who knows? I might become a Spanish granjero and grow olives one day.

You also find time to record audiobooks and video games?

I’ve recorded hundreds of audiobooks and video games over the last 15 years or so. An audiobook takes days, if not weeks, to prepare and then record in studio.

I’ve voiced everything from The Wind in the Willows to Nineteen Eighty-Four and the classics of Flaubert.

But it's hard work for often little reward. It can be fun creating bizarre voices for elves, orks or extraterrestrials in fantasy books, but the concentration required when the red light is on is second to none.

It's just you, the words on the page and the voices in your imagination.

In addition to his role on the BBC’s longest-running drama, Wincott has recorded hundreds of audiobooks and video games. Pictured with Stephen Kennedy (Credit: BBC/PA)

Have you got a pension?

Yes, I took out an Equity pension through my union years ago and still pay into it. I also have a SIPP.

What’s been your best investment?

The investment I made in going to drama school in the mid-1980s. Doing that gave me classical training as an actor. I probably wouldn’t be in The Archers today without that.

Do you own a property?

Yes, a second floor, two-bedroom flat in a property in Clapham, south London, dating back to the 1900s. I bought it for £60,000 in 1991, though it’s now worth a considerable six-figure sum, I imagine.

It’s an excellent location for getting in and out of town.

Are you a spender or a saver?

Instinctively a saver. As an actor you never know what’s around the corner, and we know if we're working there will be tax to pay. Not to mention investing for the future.

What’s your greatest financial indulgence?

Every now and then, I'll spend a few days in southern Spain, specifically Las Alpujarras – the foothills of the Sierra Nevada – where I can recharge my batteries, or prepare a book for audio in tranquility. I'm learning Spanish now, too.

What has been your worst financial decision?

Buying into the Woodford Equity Investment Fund, as part of my SIPP.

Although Neil Woodford was considered a star fund manager, the fund collapsed and the administrator is now embroiled in collective litigation to recoup losses. Never a dull moment.

Do you donate to charity?

Yes, Art Fund, which facilitates the acquisition of artworks for the nation. Doing so also entitles you to half-price admission to special exhibitions, such as those at the Tate, the Courtauld or the National Gallery.

Do you plan to do a June Spencer (Peggy Archer) and still be in The Archers when you’re 100?

Who knows? The Archers is an extraordinary institution, part of our cultural fabric as a farming nation – it boasts such longevity, too.

Maybe my character will outlive me? I'd like to think he will… before the next generation takes over.

The Archers, Radio 4, weekdays at 7pm; Omnibus edition, Sundays at 10am

Source: The Telegraph

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

New SpaceTime out Friday

SpaceTime 20240823 Series 27 Episode 102

Fairwell to NASA’s NEOWISE spacecraft

NASA’s infrared NEOWISE space telescope has relayed its final data stream to Earth bringing the historic mission to an end.

What time is it on the Moon?

Scientists are developing a plan for precise timekeeping on the Moon. For decades, the Moon's subtle gravitational pull has posed a vexing challenge—atomic clocks on its surface would tick faster than those on Earth by about 56 microseconds per day.

Europe’s Space Rider successfully completes its drop tests

Over the last four months, the European Space Agency’s reusable Space Rider test article has been undertaking a series of drop tests in the skies above the Italian Island of Sardinia.

The Science Report

Droughts, heatwaves, fire and fertilisers causing soils to store less carbon.

A link discovered between heavy cannabis use and increased risk of head and neck cancers.

Giving AI chatbots political bias

Skeptics guide to Werewolf Portals in England

SpaceTime covers the latest news in astronomy & space sciences.

The show is available every Monday, Wednesday and Friday through Apple Podcasts (itunes), Stitcher, Google Podcast, Pocketcasts, SoundCloud, Bitez.com, YouTube, your favourite podcast download provider, and from www.spacetimewithstuartgary.com

SpaceTime is also broadcast through the National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio and on both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

SpaceTime daily news blog: http://spacetimewithstuartgary.tumblr.com/

SpaceTime facebook: www.facebook.com/spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime Instagram @spacetimewithstuartgary

SpaceTime twitter feed @stuartgary

SpaceTime YouTube: @SpaceTimewithStuartGary

SpaceTime -- A brief history

SpaceTime is Australia’s most popular and respected astronomy and space science news program – averaging over two million downloads every year. We’re also number five in the United States.  The show reports on the latest stories and discoveries making news in astronomy, space flight, and science.  SpaceTime features weekly interviews with leading Australian scientists about their research.  The show began life in 1995 as ‘StarStuff’ on the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s (ABC) NewsRadio network.  Award winning investigative reporter Stuart Gary created the program during more than fifteen years as NewsRadio’s evening anchor and Science Editor.  Gary’s always loved science. He studied astronomy at university and was invited to undertake a PHD in astrophysics, but instead focused on his career in journalism and radio broadcasting. Gary’s radio career stretches back some 34 years including 26 at the ABC. He worked as an announcer and music DJ in commercial radio, before becoming a journalist and eventually joining ABC News and Current Affairs. He was part of the team that set up ABC NewsRadio and became one of its first on air presenters. When asked to put his science background to use, Gary developed StarStuff which he wrote, produced and hosted, consistently achieving 9 per cent of the national Australian radio audience based on the ABC’s Nielsen ratings survey figures for the five major Australian metro markets: Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide, and Perth.  The StarStuff podcast was published on line by ABC Science -- achieving over 1.3 million downloads annually.  However, after some 20 years, the show finally wrapped up in December 2015 following ABC funding cuts, and a redirection of available finances to increase sports and horse racing coverage.  Rather than continue with the ABC, Gary resigned so that he could keep the show going independently.  StarStuff was rebranded as “SpaceTime”, with the first episode being broadcast in February 2016.  Over the years, SpaceTime has grown, more than doubling its former ABC audience numbers and expanding to include new segments such as the Science Report -- which provides a wrap of general science news, weekly skeptical science features, special reports looking at the latest computer and technology news, and Skywatch – which provides a monthly guide to the night skies. The show is published three times weekly (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and available from the United States National Science Foundation on Science Zone Radio, and through both i-heart Radio and Tune-In Radio.

[dxmedstudent]

The "resident doctor" is horrible change, a meaningless Americanism.

If anything, the recent strikes have advertised the broad meaning on "junior doctor" to the masses. A change to "postgraduate doctor" would have been better as it has a British meaning. I've actually read that some are claiming the change is good because Brits know residents from American TV shows?! As if we should be making British medicine MORE American?

Thanks for writing in! It's definitely useful to be able to discuss what people like or dislike about it.

The thing is, "the masses" have always used the term "junior doctor" to denigrate and infantilise staff they see as basically teens. They were doing it when I first went on strike in 2016, and they've been doing it during the past couple of years of strikes - just look at the comments under literally every Daily Mail or Telegraph article about junior doctors. Inevitably people always imagine a lost looking 24 year old house officer/FY1 and never the grizzled middle aged obstetrics registrar with 3 kids of their own.

It tends to go hand in hand with rhetoric about how "we trained you, you can't work abroad/go part time/leave medicine", which is fundamentally rooted in misunderstanding the "we pay X to train a doctor" figures that get touted - the majority of those figures being *doctors' salaries over the course of their foundation, Core and specialist training*. We need people to understand that formerly known as junior doctors are grown adults, and qualified medical professionals who are being paid for their work and are paying thousands of pounds to learn more, as they go along.

And of course, completely not understanding what whilst the government moves a pile of money from the education pot to the NHS pot to, in theory, train med students or postgraduate doctors, very little of that is earmarked or used for actual training - the vast majority of our training us informal and impromptu talking, around actual care. Did I as a med student get tens of thousands of pounds worth of supervision or training? I honestly don't think so. But that's the value the UK government decided my hanging out at the back of a clinic room or operating theatre was worth. The vasy majority of our learning once we enter the clinical years of med school, or postgraduate training, is self directed. Not only that, but I'd argue that poor staffing and toxic work environments at some points if my core medical training actively hampered my learning and progression.

Going back to terminology, I think PD was considered, but Postgraduate doctor would unfortunately include consultants, GPs and SAS doctors as well because we're still postgraduate once we qualify. Ultimately it was put to a vote and "resident" won out over the other options suggested. I voted, but I can't remember what all the other options were.

I think it's hard because our training is longer and has always been subdivided - we've had house officers abd senior house officers and registrars for a long time - and we've loosely rebranded them into FY1 , Core trainees and soecualist registrars. But at alm levels you do pretty different things, are on different rotas and have different levels of responsibility so we can't just call everyone a registrar. Which IMO feels like what a US resident is.

The term "Trainee doctor" has often been used, but IMO that has always looked worse and is often hard to explain that you're not talking about medical students but about paid working professionals who may already have multiple speciality examinations under their belt. I've seen patients confused by this terminology and think it would not have been a better option.

Resident isn't JUST a US term, it is a term used in multiple non-US countries such as Canada, Spain, Australia, Singapore, India and others. And I do think that after decades of series like ER, House MD, Greys Anatomy, etc plenty of people are at least vaguely aware of the term and its implications of "qualified doctor who us not yet a completely qualified specialist". We can have a debate about what it means that US media takes over the world somewhat. But in this instance only, it kind of works in our favour.

I could talk about multiple issues with the US system (nowhere near as knowledgeably as my US medblr friends, so I leave it to them), but the terminology of calling it residency would be extremely low down my list of complaints. I generally believe words matter, a lot. But I don't think that calling trainees residents is going to be what privatises UK healthcare.

Ultimately, whilst it's not my favourite term personally, for me it's a means to an end. I want us to be able to change terminology to make it harder for people to dismiss grown qualified professionals, or to frame us as effectively spoonfed baby students that someone else is paying for, when in fact resident doctors are paying for their own study and carving out their own learning opportunities most of the time.

I'd just as well accept some kind of UK version that wasn't Resident, but I don't think an easy overarching name exists, and I'm not sure if we could reach a consensus on finding one.

[thekiryufamily]

The Beauty Behind Joryu (Spoilers: Like A Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name)

"An alter ego is a secondary self, an alternative personality or character that is different from an individual's usual identity. This term originated from the Latin phrase, meaning 'the other I.' It can serve as a psychological landscape to project parts of the self that are often hidden or suppressed, allowing individuals to explore dimensions of their character that remain unexpressed in their daily lives." - From What is an Alter Ego — The Duality of a Character By Kyle DeGuzman.

Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man Who Erased His Name is the first game to be under the rebranded Like a Dragon name in the west (Formerly Yakuza with the last game in the series under the Yakuza name being Yakuza: Like a Dragon) and is a spin-off of the soft reboot series that Ichiban is leading. Where we are instantly introduced to Joryu, Kiryu's Daidoji Faction Alter Ego.

The entire point of Joryu in this game is he is not Kiryu Kazuma. From being able to customize his outfits and looks (Make up- eye color/contacts, scars, Yakuza pins, roses, masks, glasses etc) to the way that he acts in this story.

Joryu does live up to the meaning of "Cleansed Dragon". Joryu in this game is technically Yakuza 1 Kiryu reborn. The man erased his name, He is angry, he is calculating, he is snarky and cocky. Joryu dislikes his situation but man is he craving for a fight. Joryu is willing to be more of a showoff with the fancy or crappy wear, the tossing money in the Cabret Club. It mostly shows Joryu is the reflection of not Kazuma Kiryu but the player.

Kiryu Kazuma is this legendary Yakuza. Once was Dojima Family Thug who turned into a romanticized old school Yakuza Legend. Honor, Justice, Loving, Wise, Feared is who Kiryu Kazuma. Kiryu helped installed Daigo Dojima as Tojo Chairman and for years had been his semi-retired enforcer both willing(Yakuza 3 and 4) and unwilling(5-6) after the events Yakuza 2. Kiryu is all about wanting to leave the Yakuza to take care of his kids but comes back time and time again to assist the Tojo Clan branch of Yakuza. He is all about setting things straight and bringing the ideals of what the Yakuza should be.

Joryu is just a Agent of Daidoji Faction. As soon as we hear of the Tojo's downfall in Tokyo/Kamurocho is when Joryu officially comes out. He doesn't care about Yakuza conflicts. The organization that he helped protect for close to two decades is dead. He is going through life now waiting for his death. He has Honor and a sense of Justice but it's no longer in a Yakuza's eyes but rather his own eyes. The Yakuza of this day and age are no longer honorable outlaws but just strewed businessmen and evildoers with only a handful of honorable Yakuza left. The dissolution is only a means to an end for Joryu and us by extension to erase his past to protect his future (His kids and his fellow Yakuza allies to not being slaves to the wider Japanese Government and because realistically we are tired of Kiryu being dragged back in for the past 20 years.) There is also the fact that he is more brutal than ever before. From smashing his opps into a wall with his fist to going for straight brutal shots with fists and kicks and smashing his opponents heads into pavements. The only time he is showing restraint is when he is using the Agent Style but the Yakuza Style? The Yakuza Style is meant to kill you. The Dragon Style usually was only really deadly with the heat actions throughout the entire series but in this game, everything about the style is deadly. He is literally going all out and you better pray that he doesn't send you into orbit.

Everything about Joryu in this game is unique and also the fact that he would do things that Kiryu Kazuma wouldn't do. Like trying to draw attention to himself instead of away from himself, Going out to drinks with the boys (Watase Family Members), throwing money in a Cabret Club in a flamboyant fashion, again being snarky, outfits that are both eccentric and regular street clothes. Oh and being Undisputed King of a Secret Society of Omi Alliance Yakuza and criminals on a ship with the Joryu Clan being the ruling faction after he kicked the Kijin Clan off the ship and defeated the Four Kings.

[animebw]

Man, what a shitty way to end the season.

Well, that's Superstar Season 2 finished. And for whatever reason, the thought I keep coming back to is this one line from Bojack Horseman where he calls himself "A xerox of a xerox of a xerox." When something is copied over and over again, each new copy gets a little duller, a little vaguer, a little less certain of what it used to be in the first place. Love Live has been going on for over a decade now, with new installments almost every year. It is no longer the firework bursting spectacularly in open air; it's the leftover ash from that fireworks as it descends of the sky, still vainly trying to shine just as brightly as before.

And it feels tired.

For all the wonderful energy of Superstar, all the gorgeous art direction and animation and direction, it feels so, so tired.

There are absolutely things I like about this season. Even things I love. Keke and Sumire's episode alone prevents me from calling this a bad season of Love Live. Not to mention how wonderful Shiki and Mei are. But every new iteration of this series feels like more and more of its magic is draining away. School Idol Project was nothing short of a miracle, a lightning-in-a-bottle conflagration of optimistic euphoria that made me believe in the power of idols like nothing had ever done before. But Sunshine struggled all throughout its run to match up to that miracle, and it only really managed to do so when its movie finale came around. Nijigasaki swung for the fences to try something fresh and interesting, but all it resulted in was a crushingly hollow disaster. And even with Superstar bringing back SIP's director, Jukki Hanada in the writer's chair, it only ever feels like it's playing the hits without justifying its own existence. It has no idea how to make this new self, this new chance, a worthy contender to stand on the same stage as its ancestors. And if even the best creative team to ever work on Love Live can't figure out how to keep Love Live from stagnating... then what hope is there for anyone else?

Truthfully, part of me wonders if Hanada is just tired of it all. He's been writing original scripts for this franchise for over a decade, and even with someone else handling Nijigasaki, there are still very few gaps between the entries he has a hand in. That's a long time to write the same kind of story, trapped in the same kind of formula, no doubt with countless corporate mandates to prioritize lest he "tarnish" the pristine image of idols with anything too dangerous or exciting. As much as I love Hanada's work, I can't help but think that sounds like the most soul-crushing cycle to be stuck in. And if you think that's just me projecting, well... do you remember that other original music anime Hanada just came out with? The one that's all about angst and punk spirit and shouting in defiance of society's norms? A series that, in contrast to Superstar, feels truly electric and explosive and bursting with the undeniable spirit of something born of passion too powerful to contain? Where one of the co-protagonists' backstory is her old band was forced to rebrand with specifically idol aesthetics to stay marketable in a world with little place for the scrappy, raw, unapologetic honesty of the rock music they started out with?

Yeah, suffice to say, I wouldn't be surprised if Hanada saved all his best ideas and creative passion for the start of something new and special instead of spending it all on his third rodeo at a steady paycheck.

So where does Superstar go from here? I honestly don't know. We've got a third season coming up just this October- a first for this franchise- so there's no telling what to expect. Personally, I hope it leans fully into that cartoon-world magical-girl energy I talked about before; the more it can stake its own identity, the better chance it will have to justify itself when all is said and done. But more than anything, I wonder how long it will be before Love Live just... stops being special entirely. Until the magic is truly all used up and the horrific emptiness of Nijigasaki becomes the rule rather than the exception. Until this series that truly made me believe in something starts to leave me feeling just as hollow about idols as I was before I picked it up.

And that is far too tragic a fate for me to accept.

The first Love Live was special. It will always be special. And I think Sunshine was, eventually, able to earn its place by SIP's side. But Muse themselves knew that sometimes, the only way to be special is to put everything you have into a single beautiful moment and leave everything else behind when you're done. I'll still watch Superstar season 3, and hopefully it's good, but after that? It might be time for me to leave this franchise behind. The memories of this series at its best will always matter more then endless failed attempts to measure up to that high bar. Cherish the magic we've made, and don't let time and exhaustion steal that away from you.

To those who found me through my Love Live posting, thank you for being here. I hope you enjoyed my thoughts, positive and negative alike, and I hope you stick around as my journey through anime's history continues. I will always celebrate Love Live for what its best efforts mean to me; whatever the future holds, that will never change. I can only hope whatever comes next for these creators will be just as singular and special. But Superstar season 2, for all its charms, is getting no higher score than 5.5/10 from me. The dream is coming to an end soon; and I, for one, am ready to wake up and see what new sights await in the light of day.

Speaking of, I think I have another poll to make...

[foodfightnovelization]

Every Real-World Brand Mascot in the Foodfight! Workprint

Hey everyone! So as mentioned in my last post, I'm going to be poring through the entire workprint and pointing out every single time we see (or hear!) a real-world brand mascot. If you've been following this blog for a while or just binged a bunch of my posts recently, you might remember we did this for the finished movie and it turned out there were only 18 real-world brand mascots in the entire film! But with this workprint being from 2005, several years before a lot of the larger brands pulled out from the project, there are bound to be tons more, right? So, let's dive right in and play another game of "spot the cameo"!

#1: Chester Cheetah: Okay so this one is obvious since he gets his own fully-animated segment set to "Bad To The Bone", but he's the first one you see in the entire workprint and honestly he looks great, with the squash-and-stretch style of the early animation suiting him incredibly well. This segment was also used extensively in the original trailer as well as a crewmember's animation reel, so it's one a lot of people are already aware of, but hey- I'm listing all of these, for completion's sake.

#2: The Vlasic Stork: Just like in movie, the Vlasic Stork makes his first appearance here crashing into Vlad Chocool while he's in the middle of flying, although here Vlad has the ability to turn into a bat, whereas in the finished film he's still in his human form and simply awkwardly flaps his arms. Of note is that I can't quite make out what he's saying as he crashes into him- it sounds like he's yelling "Summer fear! Here come!" but that's obviously not right, so if anyone has a keen ear please let me know.

#3: Mr Clean: Once again, just like in the finished film, Mr Clean makes his first appearance here being splattered with poo water as Lord Flushington jumps out of a manhole. He gets a few more scenes later on in the workprint, even getting a line at one point (he says "Dusting for prints..." while the Ikes are investigating a crime scene, and according to the script from around this time he was supposed to be using baby powder to do this. Funny!) He also makes an appearance in the Copabanana, talking with Aunt Jemima as Dex walks into the club. Speaking of which...

#4: Aunt Jemima: Here's one of the many real-world mascots who didn't make it into the finished movie. Aunt Jemima was the mascot for a popular brand of pancake syrup for decades, until the company rebranded in 2021 over concerns the character could be seen as racist. Which I'm sure is true, but what I'm more focused on right now is how baffling her design is here. She doesn't really look like the Aunt Jemima character herself at all, instead looking more like a personification of the old syrup bottles (which were vaguely in the shape of a person). But it's so uncanny because it's this weird hybrid between both- the model and shape is clearly that of the bottle design, yet they've textured her so that she has clothes and a face like the actual character. It's like this weird halfway point where it doesn't look right as either. She was ultimately replaced by Mrs Buttersworth in the final product, with a scene where she spills syrup on Mr Clean being identical aside from the characters being swapped out. Something worthy of note is that this is one of the early character models that was found during the production of ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, and so is available for download on archive.org if you want to tinker with it.

#5: The Keebler Elves: The Keebler Elves, one of the only mascots seen fully animated in the workprint, are seen here witnessing Daredevil Dan crash his plane into their factory. In the finished movie they're replaced with creepy generic-looking gnomes, but it's clear they were always intended to be the Keebler Elves and were simply switched after The Keebler Company pulled out from the film.

#6: The M&Ms: By far one of the most recognizable mascots of all time, the M&Ms get a single appearance in the workprint, being led to a table by Charlie Tuna while the Green M&M tells the Red M&M she's suffering from "peanut envy". Of note is that in the script, it's the Red M&M telling this to the Yellow M&M, which I personally find bizarre as the joke doesn't land nearly as well if it's two guys having the conversation. If you're familiar with the Freudian concept of penis envy, it's a condition he alleged was a key part of female psychosexual development- and so the gag lands far better if it's the Green M&M, a woman, saying it. But even having said that, according to ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight they accidentally modelled the Green M&M as a guy anyway so... I don't know what kind of gender confusion you'd call that.

#7: Charlie Tuna: Just like in the finished film, Charlie Tuna serves as the maître d' at the Copabanana, leading guests to their tables (and later getting his tail stepped on by Lady X). Of course here he's leading the M&Ms to a table, whereas in the movie it's that whole thing with the Roman gladiator who shoves his head up a cow's ass, but let's not get into that again.

#8: The California Raisins: There's not much to say here, as the California Raisins made it into the movie with minimal changes. But if you want to know something interesting, did you know the California Raisins were supposed to get an NES game back in the early 90s ? It ended up never being released, and so was lost for over a decade until a collector named Brandon Murphy happened across a prototype cartridge in the early 2000s, uploading the ROM online so that everybody could play it. I'd highly recommend looking the game up for yourself if you want to learn more, as although it's an incredibly fascinating story, it's also deeply tragic and doesn't quite belong on a lighthearted blog like this.

#9: Rosarita: So this is a more obscure one, but the character Vlad Chocool flirts with in the Copabanana is Rosarita, the mascot for a brand of refried beans. I would've probably missed this character entirely, but there's a similar scene in the novelization where she;s simply referred to as "Rosa" due to not being allowed to name any real-world brands, and so when I was writing my analysis I speculated about who this could be referring to. Sure enough, when I read the early script it was confirmed to be the Rosarita lady, and so it was fascinating to finally see her onscreen in this workprint. The character is usually depicted wearing a wide-brimmed hat and so seeing her without it you might just mistake her for a regular woman, but the flower in her hair made her instantly recognizable to me because I've spent far, far too much time on this movie.

#10: Chiquita Banana: Similar to the Keebler Elves, the Chiquita Banana lady was originally going to play the role of the bartender at the Copabanana, before being replaced by a much less visually appealing character called "Lola Fruitola". This seems to be a trend with Foodfight!- whenever a brand drops out, their character is replaced with an unflattering parody of them. Real professional, guys. Chiquita Banana is a little more complicated however, as in the draft of the script from around the same time the workprint was created, she was already replaced with Lola Fruitola. It's possible these storyboards were just drawn earlier on, and they just didn't bother replacing them even after the company no longer allowed their character to be used in the movie, but I can't say for sure.

#11: Sugar Bear: This is Sugar Bear, mascot for Post's Golden Crisp cereal. There's not much to say about him, since he's only seen briefly a few times during the workprint and he never does anything notable, but he IS one of the few brand mascots seen fully rendered and animated in this version of the movie.

#12: Punchy: Punchy, the Hawaiian Punch mascot, plays the same role as he does in the finished film- during the barfight at the Copabanana, he performs his signature move of offering someone some "punch" before literally punching them in the face. There's not much else to say about him, so let's move on.

#13: Twinkie The Kid: Twinkie the Kid is seen in the background of various storyboards during the workprint, but ultimately doesn't do much other than look far more visually appealing than he does in the finished film. There IS some early animation featuring a fully-rendered version of him, but for some reason it wasn't included in the workprint.

#14: Chef Boyardee: There's not much to say about Chef Boyardee either, as he only appears in the background of a few shots and doesn't say or do anything notable. For shame! Such a highly-regarded culinary expert deserves better than a mere background appearance.

#15: Pepperidge Farm: This is an interesting one as you don't actually SEE the character onscreen, but during the USDA meeting you hear the following dialogue- "Salts and sugars been competing for snack food supremacy longer than I even I remember!" "Pepperidge Farm remembers!" This is obviously intended to be the Pepperidge Farm spokesperson, and presumably had animation been completed while the company still allowed the character to be used, we would've seen him onscreen as well.

#16: Oscar Mayer: Oscar Mayer gets a few scenes throughout the workprint, but I'm going to save discussing them for the second part of my analysis, as there's one in particular I think is far funnier than it has any right to be and I don't want to spoil it. I think it's one of the highlights of the workprint, and it's truly a shame he ended up being cut from the finished film.

#17: Mr Pringle: As mentioned in my previous post, Mr Pringle gets a scene set in the real-world supermarket where he reminds Kaptain Krispy not to lose his temper after his chips get stomped, but he also gets THIS later on in the movie during the battle with Brand X! I mean god damn, he's flying around on a giant Pringle like he's the Silver Surfer! I just can't help but find that hilarious and awesome at the same time, I mean how many times do you see someone flying around on a huge potato chip? It's kinda bizarre to see him with arms and legs though, I'm used to him just being a head.

#18: Tootise Roll Owl and Tootise Roll Man: There's hardly anything to say about these characters, as just like in the finished film the only thing they really do is stand around in the background. The Tootsie Roll Owl is part of the flying squad used to take down the Xobytes late in the movie, but it's not particularly noteworthy.

#19: Sonny The Cuckoo Bird: The mascot for Cocoa Puffs, Sonny's only role in the workprint is also as part of the flying squad used to take down the Xobytes. In the finished film, he was replaced with a character called "Jetpack Jeffery", some sort of elf with a big jetpack and an even bigger tumor sticking out of his head. I have no idea why- it's such an odd character design, and elves and jetpacks don't exactly mesh together well thematically.

#20: Mr Peanut: Mr Peanut, the Planters mascot, appears very briefly toward the end of the movie to hand Dex a message from Lord Flushington about their plan to take down Brand X. He doesn't say anything, and in the finished film it's instead Vlad Chocool who informs Dex about their plan. It really is wild how so many well-known mascots were in the movie at this point, compared to the finished film where most of the ones used are somewhat obscure.

#21: The Energizer Bunny: The Energizer Bunny, mascot for Energizer batteries, appears towards the end fighting off Brand X soldiers with some slick martial arts moves. While the Energizer Bunny does appear in the finished film (very briefly in crowd scenes) he never gets a chance to shine like he does here in the workprint, which is a shame because it would've been awesome to watch a tiny little rabbit beat the crap out of a bunch of grown men.

So that makes 21 appearances from real-world brand mascots in the workprint, only SLIGHTLY more than the finished film's count of 18. But the workprint has far more that are popular, recognizable and you'd actually see in most real grocery stores. The M&Ms, Pringles, Golden Crisp, Chiquita Banana. Compare that to Mr Bubble... Mama Celeste... Duncan Hines... you'd be forgiven for not even knowing who half of those are. Not that I necessarily think the movie would've been better if it had a scene where the M&Ms show up for 5 seconds to crack a penis joke, but I think it's a necessity if you're going to make a movie about a supermarket coming to life at night- for that premise to work you NEED to have characters and mascots you'd recognize from an actual supermarket, and so on that front the workprint succeeds where the finished film fails.

Seeing all these characters from existing grocery products makes Marketropolis actually FEEL like it's a supermarket rather than just a generic cartoon city. That being said, this whole thing is reminiscent of a kind of movie I've seen a lot of in recent years- I like to call them "Thing You Recognize" movies, because they're movies where they're clearly just showing off all the famous characters they own, in the hopes you'll like it because you saw a thing you recognized. You know what I mean, Ready Player One, The Flash, that horrible Space Jam sequel... they put Alex's Droogs from Clockwork Orange in the background of that one, like "Hey, remember the Droogs? You liked the Droogs, right?" And yeah, I liked the Droogs... when they were in A Clockwork Orange, not in your half-assed self-mastubatory children's basketball movie! I mean, what were they thinking? But I'm getting off topic now, and besides- Foodfight! isn't the cause of this kind of filmmaking, it's merely a symptom of it. I hope you enjoyed learning about all the cameos in this version of the film, and join me next time as I finish up my analysis of the Foodfight! Workprint!

[glorious-spoon]

9 and any Stranger Things ship for the wrapped meme

Thank you! Number 9 this year was Limelight, by Rush. Here's a bit of pre-relationship Steddie featuring Eddie's complicated feelings about his hometown - I hope you enjoy!

-

title: get on with the fascination [on AO3]

word count: ~1900

-

Fifteen years after the world doesn't end, Eddie Munson returns to Hawkins.

It's a dramatic phrasing, even in his own head; for one thing, this is far from the first time he's been back since the summer of 1986, although the last time was almost a decade ago. He doesn't call it going home. Home is New York, and sometimes Chicago these days, which is as close to Roane County as he usually wants to get. Home, as far as it ever existed for him in Hawkins, was a trailer that got dropped into an alternate dimension along with a good chunk of the town the same night Eddie almost died. Home is the little house over the Illinois border where Wayne has lived since '91. Home sure as shit isn't here.

"You planning on brooding this whole time, or what?" Steve asks from across the booth. The bar they're currently sitting in is no longer called The Hideout; at some point in the last fifteen years, it's been rebranded to On The Rocks Bar And Grill. There's a fresh coat of paint on the walls and a layer of new laminate flooring over the old asbestos tile. Draft taps and an honest-to-god raised stage instead of the grimy corner where the old band used to play. At the turn of the millennium, Hawkins is finally gentrifying.

"I'm not brooding."

"Yeah, man, you totally are. Could we get a couple of refills? Thanks so much," he adds to the waitress who pauses by their table to ask if they need anything. She doesn't seem to recognize Eddie. Too young to remember him from his illustrious youth here, and apparently not into the metal scene, thank fucking Christ. For the most part, he kind of likes it when strangers come up to him in public—two platinum records in and it still hasn't lost its novelty—but not here. Not in Hawkins. This place still feels fucking cursed.

"Are you buying me beer now, Harrington?"

"You're the big-shot rockstar," Steve points out with a shit-eating grin. "You're buying."

"Ugh," Eddie groans, and puts his head down on the table, which doesn't even have the decency to be sticky. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?"

"I don't know. Closure?"

"Next time I decide to do something this shit-stupid, can you do me a favor and just, like, duct tape me to a chair or something?"

"Kinky," Steve says dryly, but he's still smiling when Eddie lifts his head to glare at him. Eddie should probably be less of a dick about this, given that Steve is only here for moral support; he doesn't live in Hawkins either these days. He's up in Chicago with Robin, who would also probably be here if she weren't mired in stacks of midterm papers on film theory from her earnest little freshman ducklings. Steve makes his own hours, so it's not that much of a surprise that he closed up shop and drove down here and didn't bother to call until he'd already crossed the county line, at which point Eddie was winding himself up into a dangerous head of steam and was grateful for any distraction that offered itself.

And Steve is the best kind of distraction. Always has been. Even now, kicked back in a bar booth in all his yuppie glory, sipping the last of his beer and scanning the bar every now and then with a wariness that Eddie hasn't seen from him in a while. Because Eddie isn't the only one who left a headful of ghosts behind in Hawkins, Indiana. He forgets that sometimes.

"Thank you, by the way," he says. "Did I say that yet?"

"Nah. Mostly you've just been, like, bemoaning your life."

"Bemoaning," Eddie repeats, delighted. "We'll make a poet of you yet, Stevie."

"In your dreams," Steve says mildly.

"Oh, every night, baby."

That gets him a scoff, but it's a fond one. The waitress comes back with their drinks, and he leans back out of her way to let her set them down and clear away their empty glasses. Steve thanks her again, and this time Eddie does too, because there's only so much wallowing that Steve will let him get away with and he's probably closing in on that limit quickly. Still, all Steve actually says once she leaves is, "So what's the plan, then? You're meeting the interviewers at, what, three?"

"Yeah," Eddie sighs. "I don't fucking know. They wanted me to, like, walk them around and show them the old sights, which sounded like a great idea when Marleen pitched it, but now it's like, what old sights? Oh, here's where the basketball team tried to kick my skull in. Here's where the football team tried to kick my skull in. Here's the picnic table where I used to sell weed out of my lunch box. Here's where my trailer was before a girl died there and it got sucked into the shadow dimension, except—oops!—can't tell you shit about that because I signed a stack of confidentiality agreements almost as tall as me. But they're still gonna ask." He lets out a long sigh and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. "They're gonna want me to talk about Chrissy."

"So you tell them to go to hell."

He barks a laugh. "Easy as that, huh?"

"You've never had trouble with it before," Steve says with a shrug.

That's true enough. Eddie sighs again and reaches for his beer. "This place is fucking me up. No, there is actually a plan. We're gonna stop by the high school after it's cleared out and do the interview there, it's all set up. You know they put up a plaque with my name on it outside the drama room?"

Steve laughs. "No shit?"

"Yeah, apparently there was a vicious battle about it on the school board. Real fire and brimstone shit, went on for months. Henderson's mom led the charge on my behalf, I got the whole story from him."

"Jesus," Steve says. And then, "Shit, we should go see her while we're in town."

"You're just hoping she'll feed you."

"Well, yeah," Steve says. "I've been living on my own cooking since…" he waves a hand and makes a face. "You know. Since everything went south with Jerry."

Jerry was the latest in a series of attractive people of varying genders that Steve has dated over the last ten years, since he moved to Chicago and figured his shit out. Eddie kind of hated the guy, but it wasn't personal. He was objectively probably a perfectly fine person, and it wasn't his fault that Eddie fell head over heels for a hot monster-slaying jock in the spring of 1986 and never entirely recovered. Though, as he's now reminded, it's been a long time since he and Steve were both single at the same time, and the last time that happened, he still thought Steve was straight.

He tries to swallow that thought down with a mouthful of beer, but it lingers like a strange spiky shape in the back of his throat. "So, how's all that going, anyway?"

Steve groans dramatically.

"An encouraging response."

"No, it's fine. I'm, like, totally over him at this point. I just… I don't know, I figured I'd be past all this shit by now, you know? Thought I'd settle down, get my life together, find somebody who…" he trails off.

"Who…?" Eddie repeats leadingly.

"I don't know. Somebody who gets it. Somebody I don't have to, like, lie to."

"That's a tall order, my friend."

"Yeah, I guess," Steve mutters. He's looking at his beer, rubbing a thumb against the wedge-shaped scar bisecting his lower lip. He's got a lot of scars, and Eddie knows the story to most of them, even the ones he wasn't personally present for. But he supposes that he can see how it would wear on Steve, inventing explanations for them that aren't about being tortured by Russian spies or eaten alive by interdimensional monsters. Steve's not much of a liar, when it comes down to it. Eddie doesn't mind spinning fantastical stories to obscure the ugly truth, but they're wired differently that way.

"Hey," Eddie says. He taps his fingernails against Steve's glass and waits for him to look up. "Listen, I'm sorry I brought it up."

Steve smiles a little. "It's fine. Seriously. Robin says I'm being a sad sack, and she's probably right."

"Mm. Probably, but I am not the sensible Professor Doctor Buckley, am I?"

"God, you know she hates it when you call her that."

"She's the one who decided to get a PhD. Masochism, in my strong opinion."

"Oh, we all know," Steve says. He glances over Eddie's shoulder at the clock, then says, "Probably ought to get going if you want to make your interview on time."

"And Marleen has promised to string me up by my metaphorical balls if I show up late for another one," Eddie sighs. He drains the last of his beer and stands, digging his wallet out.

After they pay and head outside, Steve lingers by the side of the brick building, facing the road. It's a sunny day, breezy and crisp, pale wisps of clouds moving fast across the blue sky, and something about it makes Eddie's chest pinch with a strange nostalgia. Something about the way Steve looks right now, in his stylish yet dorky windbreaker with his hair tossed by the breeze. It's shorter now than he used to wear it but he really doesn't look that different at thirty-four than he did at nineteen. Older, sure, but it suits him.

"After I'm done with all this shit," Eddie says. "You wanna go get high at the quarry? You know, for old times' sake?"

Steve laughs softly, eyes crinkling. "Does it really count if we're not smoking in the back of your van?"

"True. Pretty sure I wouldn't get the deposit back on my rental if I turn it in smelling like grass, either."

"We can take my car," Steve says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you want."

"You wanna crash with me after? So you don't have to drive all the way back home tonight, I mean? The room they booked me is, like, palatial. I didn't even know they had places that nice around here."

Steve glances at him again, rubbing his jaw. It wouldn't be the first time they've shared a hotel room, but there's a different context now. For one thing, they can both afford separate rooms these days. For another, Eddie's got that itch that means he's probably gonna do something reckless, and he's not even sure he wants to try to stop it.

If he and Steve go smoke up by the quarry where they spent the last summer of Eddie's teens, he's going to confess something, he's pretty sure of it. Lay it all on the line for Steve, after all this time. He's starting to think that might not even be the worst idea he's ever had. Steve is here, after all.

"Yeah, okay," Steve says, finally. He bumps his shoulder against Eddie's, and Eddie leans back into the solid warmth of him, and takes a deep breath of cool spring air, and watches the Hawkins traffic pass them by.

Tomorrow, he'll be gone. Maybe, if this doesn't all blow up in his face, he'll go back to Chicago with Steve. Hawkins is a place he's outgrown years ago, and whatever story comes out of this interview is never going to be anything other than a media-crafted shadow of the truth, but honestly, that's never been what mattered in the end.

"It's a date, then," he says, and when he glances over at Steve, he finds him already smiling back.