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thesublemon · 10 months ago

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For the first time in a long time, I watched all of the movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars this year. Partly on a whim, partly for a piece I’ve been working on for a while about what is going wrong in contemporary artmarking. I cannot say that the experience made me feel any better or worse about contemporary movies than I already felt, which was pretty bad. But sometimes to write about a hot stove, you gotta put your hand on one. So. The nominees for coldest stove are:

Poor Things. Did not like enough to finish. I always want to like something that is making an effort at originality, strangeness, or style. Unfortunately, the execution of those things in this movie felt somehow dull and thin. Hard to explain how. Maybe the movie’s motif of things mashed together (baby-woman, duck-dog, etc) is representative. People have been mashing things together since griffins, medleys, Avatar the Last Airbender’s animals, Nickelodeon’s Catdog, etc. Thing + thing is elementary-level weird. And while there’s nothing wrong with a simple, or well-worn premise, there is a greater burden on an artist to do something interesting with it, if they go that route. And Poor Things does not. Its themes are obvious and belabored (the difficulty of self-actualization in a world that violently infantilizes you) and do not elevate the premise. There’s a fine line between the archetypal and the hackish, and this movie falls on the wrong side of it. It made me miss Crimes of the Future (2022), a recent Cronenberg that was authentically original and strange, with the execution to match.

Anatomy of a Fall. Solid, but not stunning. The baseline level of what a ‘good’ movie should be. It was written coherently and economically, despite its length. It told a story that drew you along. I wanted to know what happened, which is the least you can ask from storytelling. It had some compelling scenes that required a command of character and drama to write—particularly the big argument scene. The cinematography was not interesting, but it was not annoying either. It did its job. This was not, however, a transcendent movie.

Oppenheimer. Did not like enough to finish. But later forced myself to, just so no one could accuse me of not knowing what I was talking about when I said I disliked it. I felt like I was being pranked. The Marvel idea of what a prestige biopic should be. Like Poor Things, it telegraphed its artsiness and themes and has raked in accolades for its trouble. But obviousness is not the same as goodness and this movie is not good. The imagery is painfully literal. A character mentions something? Cut to a shot of it! No irony or nuance added by such images—just the artistry of a book report. The dialogue pathologically tells instead of shows. It constantly, cutely references things you might have heard of, the kind of desperate audience fellation you see in soulless franchise movies. Which is a particularly jarring choice given the movie’s subject matter. ‘Why didn’t you get Einstein for the Manhattan project’ Strauss asks, as if he’s saying ‘Why didn’t you get Superman for the Avengers?’ If any of this referentiality was an attempt to say something about mythologization, it failed—badly. The movie is stuffed with famous and talented actors, but it might as well not have been, given how fake every word out of their mouths sounded. Every scene felt like it had been written to sound good in a trailer, rather than to tell a damn story. All climax and no cattle.

Barbie. Did not like enough to finish. It had slightly more solidity in its execution than I was afraid it would have, so I will give it that. If people want this to be their entertainment I will let them have it. But if they want this to be their high cinema I will have to kill myself. Barbie being on this list reminds me of the midcentury decades of annual movie musical nominations for Best Picture. Sometimes deservingly. Other times, less so. The Music Man is great, but it’s not better than 8 1/2 or The Great Escape, neither of which were nominated in 1963. Musicals tend to appeal to more popular emotions, which ticket-buyers and award-givers tend to like, and critics tend to dislike. I remember how much Pauline Kael and Joan Didion hated The Sound of Music (which won in 1966), and have to ask myself if in twenty years I’ll think of my reaction to Barbie the same way that I think of those reviews: justified, but perhaps beside the point of other merits. Thing is. Say what you want about musicals, but that genre was alive back then. It was vital. Bursting with creativity. For all Kael’s bile, even she acknowledged that The Sound of Music was “well done for what it is.” [1] Contemporary cinema lacks such vitality, and Barbie is laden with symptoms of the malaise. It repeatedly falls back on references to past aesthetic successes (2001: A Space Odyssey, Singin’ in the Rain, etc) in order to have aesthetic heft. It has a car commercial in the middle. It’s about a toy from 60 years ago and politics from 10 years ago. It tries to wring some energy and meaning from all of that but not enough to cover the stench of death. I’d prefer an old musical any day.

American Fiction. Was okay. It tried to be clever about politics, but ended up being clomping about politics. At the end of the day, it just wasn’t any more interesting than any other ‘intellectual has a mid-life crisis’ story, even with the ‘twist’ of it being from a black American perspective. Even with it being somewhat self-aware of this. But it could have been a worse mid-life crisis story. The cinematography was terrible. It was shot like a sitcom. Much of the dialogue was sitcom-y too. I liked the soundtrack, what I could hear of it. The attempts at style and meta (the characters coming to life, the multiple endings) felt underdeveloped. Mostly because they were only used a couple times. In all, it felt like a first draft of a potentially more interesting movie.

The Zone of Interest.Wanted to like it more than I did. Unfortunately, you get the point within about five minutes. If you’ve seen the promotional image of the people in the garden, backgrounded by the walls of Auschwitz, then you’ve already seen the movie. Which means that all the rest of the movie ends up feeling like pretentious excess instead of moving elaboration. It seemed very aware of itself as an Important Movie and rested on those laurels, cinematically speaking, in a frustrating way. It reminded me of video art. I felt like I had stepped through a black velvet drape into the side room of a gallery, wondering at what point the video started over. And video art has its place, but it is a different medium. Moreover video art at its best, like a movie at its best, takes only the time it needs to say what it needs to say.

Past Lives. I’m a human being, and I respond to romance. I appreciate the pathos of sweet yearning and missed chances. And I understand how the romance in this movie is a synecdoche for ambivalent feelings about many kinds of life choices, particularly the choice to be an immigrant and choose one culture over another. The immigrant experience framing literalizes the way any choice can make one foreign to a past version of oneself, or the people one used to know, even if in another sense one is still the same person. So, I appreciate the emotional core of what (I believe) this movie was going for, and do think it succeeded in some respects. And yet…I was very irritated by most of its artistic choices. I found the three principal characters bland and therefore difficult to care about, sketched with only basic traits besides things like Striving and Being In Love. Why care who they’d be in another life if they have no personalities in this one? It’s fine to make characters symbols instead of humans if the symbolic tapestry of a movie is interesting and rich, but the symbolic tapestry of this movie was quite simple and straightforward. Not that that last sentence even matters much, since the movie clearly wanted you to feel for the characters as human beings, not just symbols. Visually, the cinematography was dull and diffuse, with composition that was either boring or as subtle as a hammer to the head.

Maestro. Did not like enough to finish. Something strange and wrong about this movie. It attempts to perform aesthetic mimicry with impressive precision—age makeup, accents, period cinematography—but this does not make the movie a better movie. At most it creates spectacle, at worst it creates uncanny valleys. It puts one on the lookout for irregularities, instead of allowing one to disappear into whatever the movie is doing. Something amateurishly pretentious in the execution. And not in the fun, respectable way, like a good student film. (My go-to example for a movie that has an art-school vibe in a pleasant way is The Reflecting Skin). There’s something desperate about it instead. It has the same disease as Oppenheimer, of attempting to do a biopic in a ‘stylish’ way without working on the basics first. Fat Man and Little Boy is a less overtly stylish rendition of the same subject as Oppenheimer, but far more cinematically successful to me, because it understands those basics. I would prefer to see the Fat Man and Little Boy of Leonard Bernstein’s life unless a filmmaker proves that they can do something with style beyond mimicry and flash.

The Holdovers. Did not like enough to finish. It tries to be vintage, but outside of a few moments, it does not succeed either at capturing what was good about the aesthetic it references, or at using the aesthetic in some other interesting way. The cinematography apes the tropes of movies and TV from the story’s time period, but doesn't have interesting composition in its own right. It lacks the solidity that comes from original seeing. (Contrast with something like Planet Terror, in which joyous pastiche complements the original elements.) The acting is badly directed. Too much actorliness is permitted. Much fakeness in general between the acting, writing, and visual language. If a movie with this same premise was made in the UK in the 60’s or 70's it would probably be good. As-is the movie just serves to make me sad that the ability to make such movies is apparently lost and can only be hollowly gestured at. That said, the woman who won best supporting actress did a good job. She was the only one who seemed to be actually acting.

Killers of the Flower Moon. The only possible winner. It is not my favorite of Scorsese’s movies, but compared to the rest of the lineup it wins simply by virtue of being a movie at all. How to define ‘being a movie’? Lots of things I could say that Killers of the Flower Moon has and does would also be superficially true of other movies in this cohort. Things like: it tells a story, with developed characters who drive that story. Or: it uses its medium (visuals, sound) to support its story and its themes. The difference comes down to richness, specificity, control, and a je ne sais quois that is beyond me to describe at the moment. Compare the way Killers of the Flower Moon uses a bygone cinematic style (the silent movie) to the way that Maestro and The Holdovers do. Killers of the Flower Moon uses a newsreel in its opening briefly and specifically. The sequence sets the scene historically, and gives you the necessary background with the added panache of confident cuts and music. It’s useful to the story and it’s satisfying to watch. Basics. But the movie doesn’t limit itself to that, because it’s a good movie. The sequence also sets up ideas that will be continuously developed over the course of the movie.* And here’s the kicker—the movie doesn’t linger on this sequence. You get the idea, and it moves on to even more ideas. Also compare this kind of ideating to American Fiction’s. When I said that American Fiction’s moments of style felt underdeveloped, I was thinking of movies like Killers of the Flower Moon, which weave and evolve their stylistic ideas throughout the entire runtime.

*(Visually, it places the Osage within a historical medium that the audience probably does not associate with Native Americans, or the Osage in particular. Which has a couple of different effects. First, it acts as a continuation of the gushing oil from the previous scene. It’s an interruption. A false promise. Seeming belonging and power, but framed all the while by a foreign culture. Meanwhile potentially from the perspective of that culture, it’s an intrusion on ‘their’ medium. And of course, this promise quickly decays into tragedy and death. The energy of the sequence isn’t just for its own sake—it sets up a contrast. But on a second, meta level it establishes the movie’s complicated relationship to media and storytelling. Newsreels, photos, myths, histories, police interviews, and a radio play all occur over the course of the movie. And there’s the movie Killers of the Flower Moon itself. Other people’s frames are contrasted with Mollie’s narration. There’s a repeated tension between communication as a method of knowing others and a method of controlling them—or the narrative of them—which plays out in both history and personal relationships.)

Or here’s another example: When Mollie and Ernest meet and he drives her home for the first time, we see their conversation via the car’s rearview mirrors. This is a bit of cinematic language that has its origins in mystery and paranoia. You see it in things like Hitchcock or The X-Files or film noir. By framing the scene with this convention, the movie turns what is superficially a romantic meet-cute (to quote a friend) into something bubbling with uneasiness and dread. This is not nostalgia—this is just using visuals to create effects. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen anything that uses the convention before, although knowing the pedigree might add to your enjoyment. The watchfulness suggested by the mirrors and Ernest’s cut-off face will still add an ominous effect. It works for the same reason it works in those other things. Like the newsreel, it is a specific and concise stylistic choice, and it results in a scene that is doing more than just one thing.

In general, the common thread I noticed as I watched these nominees, was the tendency to have the ‘idea’ of theme or style, and then stop there. It’s not that the movies had nothing in them. There were ideas, there was use of the medium, there was meaning to extract. There were lots of individually good moments. But they tended to feel singular, or repetitive, or tacked on. Meanwhile contemporary viewers are apparently so impressed by the mere existence of theme or style, that being able to identify it in a movie is enough to convince many that the movie is also good at those things. The problem with this tendency—in both artists and audiences—is that theme and style are not actually some extra, remarkable, inherently rarifying property of art. Theme emerges naturally from a story with any kind of coherence or perspective. And style emerges naturally from any kind of artistic attitude. They are as native as script, or narrative, or character. A movie’s theme and style might not be interesting, just like its story or dialogue might not be interesting, but if the movie is at all decent, they should exist. What makes a movie good or bad, then, is how it executes its component parts—including theme and style—in service of the whole. When theme is well-executed it is well-developed. Contemporary movies, unfortunately, seem to have confused ‘well-developed’ with ‘screamingly obvious.’ A theme does not become well-developed by repetition. It becomes well-developed by iterationand integration. Theme is like a melody. Simply repeating a single melody over and over does not result in the song becoming more interesting or entertaining. It becomes tedious. However, if you modify the melody each time you play it, or diverge from the melody and then return to it, that can get exciting. It results in different angles on the same idea, such that the idea becomes more complex over time, instead of simply louder.

Oppenheimer wasprobably the worst offender in this regard. Just repeat your water drops, crescendoing noise, or a line about ‘destroying the world’, and that’s the same as nuance, right? Split scenes into color and black and white and that’s the same as structure, right? That’s the same as actually conveying a difference between objectivity and interiority (or another dichotomy) via the drama or visual composition contained in the scenes, right? When I watched many of these movies, I kept thinking of a behind-the-scenes story from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The story goes that Joss Whedon was directing Sarah Michelle Gellar in some scene, and when the take was over he told her how great she was, and that he could see right where the music would come in. And Gellar replied that if he was thinking about the music, he clearly wasn’t getting enough from her acting alone. This conversation then supposedly informed Whedon’s approach to “The Body,” a depiction of the immediate aftermath of death that is considered one of the best episodes of television ever made, and which has no non-diegetic music whatsoever. Not to imply that music is necessarily a crutch, or to pretend that “The Body” is lacking in other forms of stylization (it is a very style-ish episode). But more to illustrate the way that it is easy to forget to make the most of all aspects of a medium, particularly the most fundamental ones, once one has gotten used to what a final product is supposed to feel like.

And that’s why most of these movies don’t feel like movies. They create the gestalt of a movie or a ‘cinematic’ moment—often literally through direct vintage imitation—without a sense of the first principles. Or demonstrating a sense of them, anyway. Who needs AI when the supposedly highest level of human filmmakers are already cannibalistically cargo-culting the medium just fine.

[1] “The Sound of Money (The Sound of Music and The Singing Nun).” The Pauline Kael Reader. (This book contains the full text of the original review, rather than the abbreviated review that I linked earlier.)

#posts: art #movies #am rusty at blogging and don't have all the virtuous nuance i would like in this but we will go with it

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doberbutts · 1 year ago

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So after seeing your post about BES I finally started watching it and damn. DAMN. People saw Mizu and can’t understand why transmascs gravitate to this story???????? I’m pretty sure “using bandages to bind chest” is like one of THE TOP symbolic moves that transmascs gravitate to when it comes to our (admittedly lackluster) representation in media.

Also, I feel like a lot of people get really weird about the idea that a story about empowering women and a story that’s relatable to transmascs aren’t mutually exclusive. I won’t speak for everyone but personally I like stories like this that don’t shy away from representing people whose AGAB doesn’t align with their outward actions.

And! Personally! As a man who is East Asian living in the US and has a higher voice even after 5 years on T, characters like Mizu rekindle my hope that one day I’ll be able to pass as flawlessly as him lol. Characters like Mizu, Mulan, Haruhi (from ouran high school host club) always seem to spark that little bit of hope in me… that maybe one day I won’t have to try so hard to be accepted and people will just see me and assume I’m a boy without me having to correct them… or at the very least, that they’d refrain from using any gendered language towards me until they ask and find out what I want to be referred as.

Oh for sure. It's like the Mulan thing. Like I'm sorry but you put "when will my reflection show who I am inside" and "who is that girl" and "why is my reflection a stranger" and you're mad that trans guys went "wow where'd you get that picture of me" like??? In a deleted scene, Mizu tries to play with her feminity in the mirror at the brothel and ultimately scowls and doesn't like what she sees- and you're trying to tell me that it's *not* supposed to be relateable to trans mascs trying to be feminine women and hating what they see reflected back at them?

Like you said, it's not that I'm mad that this is a story about empowering women and featuring a highly GNC woman as its main character. It's just annoying, and more importantly highly concerning, that people seem to think that because it's about empowering masculine women that trans mascs can't or shouldn't see any of themselves in it. I'm an entire grownass binary trans man and throughout my entire life I have felt more seen and more fellowship with masculine women both fictional and real than I have with anyone else except specific gay cis men who were very gender themselves.

And yeah. As your existence proves, it's not like East Asian trans mascs aren't real??? Like I'm sure there's nuance there that I'm missing because despite being biracial I'm not Asian and *definitely* not Japanese. But acting like characters like Haruhi, or Mizu, or Mulan [Chinese] *can't* be trans mascs because that'a inherently disrespectful to East Asian women is just plain erasing the fact that, um, Japanese and Korean and Chinese and Thai and Vietnamese and more trans mascs absolutely do exist and have existed as long as gender has existed.

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cupcraft · 2 years ago

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With the dream situation, other horrible cc's, but especially dream... i just think its really disheartening not only do people not believe victims/victim blame/harass victims/etc., but that there are also many other pipelines people go down for the sake of defending their cc.

Like, with the allegations especially in the beginning there was so much discourse about the law, the definition of grooming, and what is normal behavior for a victim. It's bad enough people didn't want to believe a potential victim, but then people went further. So, now you think the US Justice System is the pinnacle of justice, and is in fact designed to help "real victims" when there's a lot of evidence to the contrary? So, now you think the fact that it's "technically legal for an adult to flirt with minors in the US" means it's just a okay to do that? You think the US legal definition of grooming is encompassing enough, that it doesn't exclude any one, that it does it's job perfectly to help victims? And i'm not a law expert myself, but I am aware of the harm the US justice system does to victims. And it was really scary how many people who seemed to present themselves of understanding of that, especially in regard to other situations with cc's, just dropped that and started touting the company line about the US justice system being perfect all because they are incapable of saying Dream is fallible in any way. And i'm specifically referring to the american fans that did this who should be aware of the justice system, especially if theyre going to use it in "defense" of a cc. And then people went further and were suddenly a trained psychologist and nitpicked every victim behavior from Amanda especially that doesn't fit their perfect view of a victim, which is to them one who is silent and doesn't harm their fav cc "when he just face revealed :(!! my poor dreamie". Fuck you, is all I really have to say to that.

And it goes further, now it's okay that Dream bought a trump flag and thought it was funny that "oh look it looks like my white friend supports trump!" (even as someone who used to be an active trump supporter...) as if that is funny when it not only had a monetary support from its purchase, but as if that flag at all is "funny". That flag is a monument of hate, of white supremacy, of the attempted insurrection to overthrow our government, of just so much bigotry. I don't see how it's funny for him to use that flag as a "gag christmas gift". It's weird, and it's weird how many people just ignored those facts in favor of "its dream!" and "it wasnt that much money anyway!" and "well [insert cc with nuance i will ignore for the sake of supporting dream] also bought a [insert maga item]". And listen i'll just directly say it, I don't really watch or enjoy hasan's content anymore, but to compare what Hasan does on the daily and dream's "gag gift" as the same you really just don't get it, and you know that you don't.

And then we have Hannah and Niki coming forward about misogyny, who both talked about lack of support from male cc's and coworkers. and then we have people, who support dream, making it about dream. Calling them ungrateful, saying it "wasn't dream", and suddenly misogyny doesn't matter to them, except once dream tweeted his "support for Hannah" then it's something to listen to (clearly, seeing as that his tweet ratio'd hers), when it was a bare minimum statement from the man who is considered by many the face of mcyt. Some of which were same people on twitter and tumblr who call hannah/niki/sniff/aimsey/etc. annoying, who only supported aimsey because he "clapped for sapnap and we have to save them from their evil fanbase (of which many of us didn't support them getting harassment mind you)", some of which were the ones upset a woman/afab cc would be on a team with dream for mcc and potentially "tear down" his precious score.

And let's get into queerphobia too, because as long as it's not against dream queerphobia is a okay with some people! With ranboo first, of course, because it's totally fine to say one coming out overshadows another and it's totally in allyship with the queer community to say that it does /s. You can comment on fandom behavior without taking it out on a queer person's coming out, i promise you can, meaning you can say "hey the queerphobia i witnessed with dream/unlabeled people at large was fucked up" not "wow ranboo really overshadowed dreams coming out and that people were positive about a cc's coming out", like be serious. Oh, and then we have the slurs and queerphobia scott smajor faced over mcc teams on twitter (especially in regards to his dream team placements), and we have people wishing hatecrimes against Prezoh for what he said on twitter recently, again another queer person. And i'm not speaking for these cc's and their feelings on the matter, or assuming their feelings on it, but i am speaking as a queer person who cannot stand to see this from people i once felt in community with in this fandom.

Because at a certain point this highlights how performative you are. You don't care about victims, or misogyny, or queerphobia, or any of that kind of stuff. You just don't. Because dream as your cc matters more to you. and as long as dream is doing it, then i'm convinced you'll go down any pipeline to defend him.

And as a note, i am speaking on things that ive seen and do not attempt to claim its "every stan who does this", but i've seen enough of this behavior to want to call it out. and have for a while.

And listen, there's definitely more to this story but this is what i feel confident speaking on. So as always please reblog and add on if you want, it's an important conversation i think. And you can send me asks/correct me on anything/etc.

#dream situation #fandom critical #discourse #fucking fine im posting it i edited this just now #long post #tw grooming #ask to tag

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zalrb · 2 years ago

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Hey! so what did you think about Claire on the bear? I've seen some people call her a mary sue, a mpdg, a pick me which feels a bit much to me lol. I generally agree w people who say that she wasn't fleshed out and felt out of place bc of how carmy viewed her. My only thing is she never felt like an ER Doctor. Her career was supposed to be equally demanding so it should've affected their relationship in some small way at least but she kinda just seemed available for him at any given moment.

One of them I can see an argument for, the other two no. So before I get into the one I can see an argument for, I really need people to understand that these terms actually mean something. They're not blanket descriptors for female characters who annoy you and while we're at it, just for initiumseries, I'm going to add for the record that there aren't male versions of pick mes and manic pixie dream girls because these stock characters (or in the case of a pick me, viewpoints,) are rooted in misogyny

A Pick Me is specific

A Mary Sue is specific

Mary Sue stories—the adventures of the youngest and smartest ever person to graduate from the academy and ever get a commission at such a tender age. Usually characterized by unprecedented skill in everything from art to zoology, including karate and arm-wrestling [...] She saves the day by her wit and ability, and, if we are lucky, has the good grace to die at the end [...]

Like even Nathan Rabin who coined the term MPDG apologized for doing so because it keeps being misused:

I feel deeply weird, if not downright ashamed, at having created a cliché that has been trotted out again and again in an infinite Internet feedback loop. I understand how someone could read the A.V. Club list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls and be offended by the assertion that a character they deeply love and have an enduring affection for, whether it’s Diane Keaton’s Annie Hall or Katharine Hepburn in “Bringing Up Baby,” is nothing more than a representation of a sexist trope or some sad dude’s regressive fantasy.

It doesn't make sense that a character as nuanced and unforgettable as Annie Hall could exist solely to cheer up Alvy Singer. As Kazan has noted, Allen based a lot of Annie Hall on Diane Keaton, who, as far as I know, is a real person and not a ridiculous male fantasy.

From what I can recall, nothing about Claire is "Pick-Meish" or "Mary Sueish", she explains that when they were kids and a girl broke her arm, everyone was freaked out except for her because she wanted to understand the injury, that is not Pick Me-ish.

This is Claire

not this

The fact that she has six months left on her residency doesn't make her a Mary Sue.

Now with regards to being an MPDG, these are the characteristics of one:

That day in 2007, I remember watching "Elizabethtown" and being distracted by the preposterousness of its heroine, Claire. Dunst's psychotically bubbly stewardess seemed to belong in some magical, otherworldly realm -- hence the "pixie" -- offering up her phone number to strangers and drawing whimsical maps to help her man find his way. And as Dunst cavorted across the screen, I thought also of Natalie Portman in "Garden State," a similarly carefree nymphet who is the accessory to Zach Braff's character development. It's an archetype, I realized, that taps into a particular male fantasy: of being saved from depression and ennui by a fantasy woman who sweeps in like a glittery breeze to save you from yourself, then disappears once her work is done.

She isn't quite the "pixie" part of the trope, I don't think she's whimsical enough for that, instead I would say she's the "insufferable female lead in an indie" trope (love this!)

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because she does kind of just appear or sweep in to Carmy's life and has this history with him

and instead of giving Carmy her number, she asks for his, therefore the narrative places the onus of initial pursuit on her

she's been carrying this torch for him since they were kids

and her role is to be someone in his life that makes him feel good, that takes his feelings into consideration,

that gives him peace

that urges him out of his shell

that shows him another way he can be and feel outside of the restaurant

while we basically know nothing about her outside of that role.

What makes this iteration more complex than others is not Claire, it's not that she's a fully fleshed out character and we see more than a glimpse of her life and it's not that we get to know about her personally because we don't really, what we get is this

which just goes back round to Carmy and his complicated relationship with food and cooking anyway

the subversion lies with Carmy and how he needs to heal and still has a lot of unprocessed trauma that doesn't go away because Claire entered his life, the show shits all over the typical outcome of the MPDG coming into the male protagonist's life and making it all better.

I'm not saying that they did that purposefully as in they're trying to say something about MPDG, like I don't think the show purposefully framed her as one or views her as one, I think they just wanted to show how deep-rooted generational trauma is and how it presents itself and how it affects your current relationships and it ended up being subverting an MPDG-esque trope for the male protagonist.

I don't know if any of this makes sense, I haven't slept and it's like 5 AM lmao.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #jeremy allen white #the bear season 2 #the bear claire

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kimwexlers-brownhair · 1 year ago

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Hello Kim ! I love that you're a Sansa fan, I was wondering what your favourite Sansa quote is? And why do you think she is so hated compared to characters like Jon, Dany, Arya, etc ? Thank you xx

Thank you for asking about my favorite child! It's hard to narrow down a quote as my absolute favorite. I love it whenever she's sneaky about manipulating idiots like Joffrey without ever dropping her armor of courtesy. "He is a fool, you're so clever to see it! He'd make a much better fool than a knight" about Hollard, and "“They say my brother Robb always goes where the fighting is thickest. Though he's older than Your Grace, to be sure. A man grown” are perfect examples.

They're also examples of why so many fans dislike her. She's too subtle for them, and too nuanced (maybe the most nuanced character in the series?). The dislike started when she was framed in the very beginning as Arya's foil, when her motives were easy to read: marry the prince and live like in romantic stories of chivalry. Now we're all obviously supposed to be frustrated with her, as we would be if our little sister or daughter fell for such an obvious douchebag but had a head too full of fairy tales to listen to reason. That frustration doesn't mean we hate them; in fact, it's usually so frustrating because you love the little twits. Yet because Sansa was set up as a foil to Arya, the underdog tomboy to cheer for, most viewers projected those affectionate feelings onto her and Sansa was left as the antagonist.

In season 2, we get nonstop action, with Arya, Jon, and Dany slicing through folks and burning them....and Sansa just seems to sit there sad and mealy-mouthed in King's Landing? Weak!

So many fans were attracted to the pageantry and sensory overload Game of Thrones gave them, and to take the time to understand someone as quiet and diffident as Sansa appeared was just not going to happen.

Ultimately, Gillian Flynn said it best: “I like strong women” is code for “I hate strong women.” People watched GoT and decided for a woman to be equal, she had to commit violence, just like how men assert their masculinity. This hurts both Sansa and Arya in the show, I think. Sansa, with her subtlety and traditionally feminine interests, combined with the self-centered streak she showed in season one because God Forbid a teenager be self-centered especially since Arya isn't, was deemed too weak and annoying. Arya is the badass little ninja, but in the books, her descent into her darkest impulses because of the hell she's been through is...Not Good. Not empowering. She's a child. Sansa is a child. But because the way Arya survives and loses much of herself is cool and masculine-coded in the show, it's okay to rally around her. With Sansa, it's weak.

Unfortunately, a lot of Sansa fans go too far in the other direction, which I think is important to note. I've said this in another post, I know, but I just gotta repeat a distinct memory from when the show was at its height. More people were getting into Sansa, and her popularity was rising. Someone dared post their artwork of Sansa in armor and holding a sword. The reaction was ridiculous. "You're missing the whole point of Sansa's character if you give her armor and a sword!" First of all, Sansa is the most adaptable character in the series. Much like Elizabeth I, she would absolutely do that to boost morale at the very least. Second of all, people love to put women in boxes; to quote Succession, a lot of fans can't "hold a whole woman in their head."

Sansa is an example of "safe" femininity; she'll always be good and sweet and pure, a nice escape from mean women like Cersei, butch Brienne, tomboy Arya. Suddenly all the women just become these traits and aren't allowed to grow past them or learn to love other things. Maybe Sansa does learn to pick up a sword willingly, and finds out it's...kinda fun! Empowering, even!

No, there's nothing wrong with loving to sew, sing, and dream of romance. However, there is harm in internalizing that as the only things women can and should do. There's just something so infantalizing about the treatment of Sansa by some fans: "Our little Sansa always behaves like a lady".

I love Sansa because she isn't always likable. She has a lot of internalized misogyny, and she takes it out on Arya. She's so self-centered in her desires that she tells Cersei about Ned. She's also a child who we can safely assume was more strongly discouraged not to end up like Arya than, say, Arya was. This is her arc. I hate that it happens because of trauma, but her growth stems from Ned's death because it shows that deep down, this child wants home and family more than pagaentry. But because she couldn't say it with a sword, fans missed this.

#sansa stark #asoiaf #game of thrones #got #arya stark

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system-of-a-feather · 2 years ago

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Dude before I go do my therapy work Im out here for, I do wanna say the whole afab systems cant call an alter transfemme lacks a lot of insight into transexperiences and nuance. Cause like, yes generally I do feel ablot of cases can be in bad taste if said person is perisex afab that has no experience transitioning

But like, as the like only heavy femme part in a borderline almost basically intersex AFAB transman body that has been on T for 1.5 years, I legit spent an hour femming up with the guidance of a transwoman on YouTube and am wearing my women clothes that let me show of my tits as a "hey look Im a WOMAN" and I kid you not, most angles of selfies make me look like a man dressing up as a woman

I legit struggle to pass as a ciswoman honest to god I technically never was and this far into transition like.... itd be far fetched and a lot of effort to "pass" as a ciswoman especially to bigots

And so like, I don't really identify as a transwoman and I think I COULD argue transfemme but tbh I really don't care, cause I'm more than fine just calling myself a feminine part and/or categorizing my feminity closer to that of a cross dresser than that of a trans experience cause like

Yeah not passing as a ciswoman is annoying but tbh doesnt matter too much to me

But ya know, its whatever honestly. I aint trying to argue cause honestly, I dont call myself a transwoman or transfemme and dont intend to or want to at least unless my feelings change when we eventually get top surgery

But ya know, food for thought and all

#alter: aderis #syscourse #discourse #trans discourse #transmasculine #transfeminine #trans feminine #trans masculine

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stonyponyofficial · 2 years ago

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violer ive always wondered & ur the best person to ask. is there transphobic jokes in adam sandler jack and jill

hello io!!!! you've activated my "she talks about adam sandler for way too long" cutscene so i hope ur ready for that! this is going to lead me to rewatch Jack and Jill (2011) starring Adam Sandler, just so i can give u the full answer bc my Adam scholarship needs to be THOROUGH do u understand???? i hope u can live with the knowledge that uve made me do thjs. also i forgive u. this is a pride month post now btw.

Adam Analysis beneath the cut. tl;dr umm probably not as much as u would imagine like it could be So much worse but its. kinda okay at points too? Theres Nuance.

so even if u havent seen all of Adams many films like i have, maybe ur the average person whos probably only seen 10 or 20 of them who knows. u could probably imagine the kinds of jokes he tells. just general mean spirited ribbing towards anyone who isnt adam or like adam right? standard fare for mainstream movie comedy. so when it comes to Jokes Adam Tells About Women, we basically get two categories: jokes for women adam wants to have sex with, and jokes for women who Adam thinks are undesirable and does not want to have sex with.

when it comes to jokes about trans women, or the closest depiction of trans women an adam sandler film is going to get, they more closely align with the ugly woman jokes, except they arent really seen as women, so the joke is just kind of "ur a man!" when its literally a male friend of adam's in a dress pretending to be a trans woman, u know? not fun (btw friend of adam is the new horrible slang for id'ing other gay people tell everyone u know). there are only a feeew instances from what i remember of a stock crossdresser/trans woman joke character even being in a Sandler film, and usually u can like feel the disgust everyone has for these characters for like the 10 secodns theyre on screen to be joked at.

in Jack and Jill however, theres like.. kinda none of that. like shes jacks twin sister at the end of the day and everyone gets along with her because shes family even if shes loud and annoys people. spoilers for... jack and jill... but the whole plot is jack learning to love his sister again and not be annoyed by her very presence, learning the importance of family along the way. the jokes are mostly "god i hate my loud and annoying twin sister" more than anything. from what I remember anyway (this is before my rewatch btw this is just preliminary info jeez), the jokes are more aligned with undesirable women jokes toward jill than flat out transphobia (say, "ur even manlier than ur brother wow!" vs "u are a man") anyway i will now be watching Jack and Jill (2011) starring Adam Sandler so ill be right back.

okay hi. so they definitely characterize jill as being i guess the larger presence of the two, like they show a home movie montage of the two growing up and thats continually the joke in those clips that shes just "more than" jack. hairier, fartier, stronger, but also more emotional and familial, as in wanting to be close with her twin brother than he would like to be with her. in these ways shes made to be both more masculine and more feminine than jack. although shes made to be more masculine, as the film defines it, it then has many moments where its like "yeah despite her just being adam sandler in a dress, shes 'actually a woman'" like, if anything these moments are transphobic in that they ask "is Jill a guy?" and usually the answer is "no of course not shes a real woman not some man in a dress!" not said with such explicit terms but it's then implied by asking the question that it would be worse if the answer was yes. the first of these woman affirming instances is the honestly the best, so i will describe it for u thus, because youre here for analysis that is also just plot summary Goddamn It.

so theyre all in a movie theater when jill gets a call and starts talking really loudly, annoying everyone as the film has her do. jack calls her a psycho and she starts crying and runs out of the theater. one theatergoer remarks "way to make a chick cry, dude." and another inquires, "that was a chick?" and as jack runs to get jill he pours his popcorn on the guy and shuts him down like "yeah that was a chick!" like in one light its just the film reminding us and affirming and that she is in fact a real, normal cisgendered woman through adam owning this guy epically, but if ur absolutely insane you could see this as the biggest Adam Sandler Trans Ally W if there were to ever be one. just. compared to everywhere else that couldve gone, its. good? to see adam actually defending the "man in a dress" comedic character for once. even if it had to be him in the dress while being 100% cis, actually, for him to cool it with the transphobic remarks.

another moment is when jill is lifted by her soccer team to celebrate her helping win a match... yeah dont worry the context wont help... so as shes being lifted someone looks under her dress and is like "yeah shes not a guy" and gives another guy money like they made a bet? probably the weirdest example. but then she also makes sure to mention later that she does have periods so we all know the character of Jill Sadelstein played by Adam Sandler from Jack and Jill (2011) starring Adam Sandler twice, is in fact a real woman. idk like its playing into the comedy of this just being adam sandler saying that and like "haha hes not a woman" but idk if i would call that transphobic, one could perhaps say hes doing drag for this movie and like drag performers play with that all the time right?

idk it feels like the movie hairspray where the role of the mom is played by a man in a dress where that's just kinda the joke about it the whole time but it's still drag and kinda taken seriously?is that transphobic? eh probably a little. if anythjng it just feels like a drag performance in kinda poor taste where ur waiting for him to say the things he's said before about man in dress characters and then. he just doesn't?. uhhh llike later on theres a part where jack dresses as jill to try and fool al pacino who is in love with jill btw. al pacino is in love with jill but she doesnt like him back so she wont go meet him. anyway jack is getting changed in the bathroom and theres an attendant there who sees him come out full jillmoding. he proceeds to grope jacks fake melon boobs to adjust them and gives an approving italian hand smooch 🤌 mwah u know. its a little okay. i like it.

um there is also a moment where the joke is that pretransition caitlyn jenner is there, but its 2011 so she hadn't come out yet. its jarring and feels very transphobic bc they deadname her, but it was before she came out so that was... just her name at the time. so its okay, but feels wrong. a very strange coincidence for some of the only transphobia coming from this movie when it could have it fucking everywhere to be completely unintended and the result of someone just transitioning after the movie was done being made.... didnt know where to put this observation but it had to be known.

All Of This being said tho, u kinda need to have adam-vision like me to have a tolerance for his... we'll call them antics. only after many other sandler films did i get to this one and be like "oh wow that wasn't that bad given what i was expecting!" its still not a good movie, but compared to every single other one hes made or been in, its like. definitely in the middle of the pack. if we can take adam sandler acting in drag being the kinda silent joke for an hour and a half its. an okay watch. best watched with friends so u can talk about it/over it if u want. i would perhaps even call it camp at times if i had worse judgement. it definitely could have been worse! then again maybe i truly am numb to adam and i just didnt see anything wrong with it who knows! i am possibly completely full of shit. hope this helps 👍

#violet originals #adamposting #thank u for the opportunity to adampost io :3 i will do it again if we arent careful

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veryrealimagination · 6 months ago

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Left a Bottle in a Wound as a Piece of Revenge

Watts did not like the young woman in charge of this operation. The easy answer would be that she had him kidnapped and he was not her intended target, but Murdoch. One would think that being the leader of such a nuanced operation would have given her henchmen pictures of their intended target. Instead of just some sort of bland description. Really, the Detective of Station House Four? That’s what she gave these men for information?

Then there was the quiet anger that he saw when she got annoyed and distracted with Pendrick and whatever she had him doing. Her plans weren’t either coming along, or were getting thrown off course. Even more than his kidnapping. There was something else she was planning that she couldn’t get to go right. She was taking out her frustrations on things. Mostly. Her men and Pendrick, not them. But Watts, well, he was someone that she didn’t even want. Just a little useful as a pressure point.

Serves her right for taking me. The gag in his mouth effectively soaked up his saliva and made his mouth dry. His stomach growled on and off with it not being able to eat anything. He would be grateful for a drink of water right about now. Except most of the men working for her had been instructed to not take off the gag. Something about trying to talk his way out of things.

Rude.

When she came into the room where she was hiding him again, there was a bottle of something dangling from her fingers. Considering the dark color, her swinging from side to side, exaggerated but not as much as she did, he figured beer, and the normal reaction to such a thing. Pulling a chair from the wall where several had been sitting for some reason, she plopped down inelegantly. Just off center and pointing straight at him to allow for attention he would rather not be receiving.

“Drinking and coming to visit you probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s not like you’ll be able to tell anyone anything,” she mocked, “At the least, if I get that part of my plan correct, you won’t be talking at all.” Clenching his hands, the tape barely allowed for movement, and its restrictiveness was getting a bit painful.

“I haven’t fucked up a plan this bad in seventeen years.”

She leaned on her knees, the bottle being wrung to watch the liquid inside slosh and become hypnotizing. “Very first criminal act I ever planned. That was a real test. I had everything laid out, we picked a good place to enact it. Would have been a crowning jewel and proof that I have the talent to pass some of the idiots that run around claiming to be the World’s Best Criminal. I accomplished the goal, what we were targeting, and it worked well. But, I ended up having a variable I didn’t account for.”

Watts calmly watched her swig her beer. He couldn’t stand the taste, something that Station House One had scoffed and dismissed him for. Once he had a glass of wine, something offered by a wife of a detective, he made that his liquor of choice.

“There was someone that would have been easy to lay the blame on, especially how he acted after the first goal was obtained. Most detectives would have simply gone with the man. But Detective Murdoch didn’t. And that ruined the next part of my plan.”

Another swig. He wondered if there was something she was wanting to forget about. That was not her first bottle of beer. He believed it to be a second, or a third. It was also likely why she was being chatty at the moment. Alcohol loosened what the brain told people not to talk about.

“He found out about what they did. And he connected what others didn’t. What others didn’t care about, not think about. The second part of my plan fail because I managed to get a detective that didn’t go the easy route and call it a day. How fucking annoying.”

Now the bottle was empty. He remembered her anger, how she bit and chewed when something didn’t go correctly. The sharp comments, annoyed gazes when she had to repeat something or explain when someone ask. He almost wished that she went to get another. At least, if she continued to drink like this, she wouldn’t be that much in a position to do anything harmful.

His wish was cruelly laughed at and denied.

Even being drunk, her movements were faster than he thought. The bottle first came down on his leg. He groaned, head thrown back and away as pain radiated from the hit. Then, it was his upper arm. And then his opposite shoulder. Quite thankfully, nothing felt broken. He hoped that she wouldn’t be horrid enough to send that at his head. Those bottles were tempered and hardened to deal the transport between cities and on the worse roads in the countryside. There had been a few murder victims that had been taken out by a bottle thrown at them, or striking the back of their head.

Watts wasn’t proud of the fact he flinched when he felt the bottle lay on the side of his head instead. “I’ve done it a few times,” she admitted, knowing exactly what he expected to feel, and circumventing it. “This brand has some of the hardest glass on the market. Marks that angered me too much got this on the back of their heads, and a few at the sides. I’ve heard their skulls crack at the impact. I’ve studied the injuries after. Both living and deceased.” Walking around, she placed the butt of it against the soft area where his spine met in the skull. She could either hit something into the bottle for blunt force trauma, or switch it to allow the neck to penetrate. It would kill him either way, it just depended on the cruelty that she wanted to inflict.

He felt another blow on his shoulder, the same one, and it screamed in pain. His hands clenched so he didn’t moan. “He would have been your age if he had...” she muttered, a finger running through his hair. The bottle dropped on the ground as she walked out the door and locked it behind her.

Watts was confused, and wary of the woman considering the force behind her hits, even while drunk. Who was the he? A former paramour? A partner or friend that Murdoch captured and put away?

Slightly moving, his shoulder protested and he gasped at the feel of something moving incorrectly. His other arm wasn’t as painful, and his leg lessened due to his shoulder. At least it wasn’t my head. I unfortunately still need that. Blasted thing.

When his body craved sleep, it was involuntary. He also went deeply, most unlike him, but with a light consistently being on and between people coming in to gawk at him, his body demanded it. It meant that the barrel that he would have normally registered was placed on his forehead. Its exit wasn’t pointed straight at his temple, ensuring his death. No, that was later. Instead, the bullet that came out grazed deeply into his scalp. The pain from that, the flashback of the gun powder igniting, the muffled boom, and the casing landing on his hand and burning it was what woke him in terror.

He flinched back rapidly when he felt her still invading his space. The gun she was holding still stayed by his head. Looking, he saw that Pendrick had been brought in as an involuntary audience for the spectacle. Two fingers ran through the new wound that carved through his hair and his skin, aggravating the area. She turned and talked to her other captive. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, and that scared him. When he talked, he must have said something that she didn’t agree with, as the small amount of nail she kept dug into the blood and broken skin.

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” James Pendrick said. The man holding him back clenched his grip on the man’s arms. It hurt, yes, but the woman stopped her torment of the young man. James hadn’t really talked with the detective when he finally met him after repeated Toronto visits and interactions with Station House Four. It did sound as if he would be interesting and a foil for Murdoch’s investigating and inventing on his own.

So, the woman stopped playing with the wound on Watts’s head and placed the gun on the other side of it. With the cotton and wax earplugs that had been squashed in his ears, he had no idea what was happening between them, shifting his eyes to try and figure out everything. Not to mention the gun was a tad too close for his liking. As if she wanted it to take out enough skin and hair to show his skull, or maybe just kill him. Watts kept his eyes on her and the gun as he tried to look over at Pendrick and had to turn back to keep his composure.

“Revenge is the only thing my life is worth now, Mr. Pendrick,” she told him, merely stating a fact. “I have no care if something is seriously wrong with me. Now, you’re almost done with the invention you were brought to make. Finish it off before I decide that the two of you are unnecessary and do it myself.”

Watts watched as he was forced out the door. The gun was dropped from his head, and he calmed a small bit. He felt something come out of one of his ears and he saw a strange yellow blob being held. She blocked my hearing. The other was cleared as well and he saw the two things dropped to the floor. Apparently, she didn’t like something about something he was doing, again, as the butt of the gun crashed down on his gunshot wound. It reopened the tentative clotting and blood spilled down the side of his head. Without words, she walked out and he was able to finally realize the moans and cries that had been built up from his torment.

The next unintended sleep his body needed was again interrupted by someone. This time, one of the henchmen started dragging his chair back. Confused, he took in three things. Pendrick was being forced into a chair and taped similarly to himself. There was something set up in between them, a tripod of sorts that appeared to have a trigger similar to cameras. There was not a camera going on it. The woman took a gun similar to the one she had used on him and placed it instead. It was then moved to where it was no more than a foot away from his forehead.

She wanted it to be closer, but the tripod could then be knocked down.

Rolling out the cord needed, she first set a flat piece of leather against the trigger of the gun. Gently pulling, she saw that it would move the trigger. Which made her smile, as she pulled the hammer back. Taking both sides of the cord attached to that piece, she wrapped it around a pulley behind it before carefully letting more and more of it go until she reached the door. “Do you want both of them killed, Ma’am?” one asked, “We do have another handgun and another rig?”

“No, no, not today,” she said, “Just the detective. I’m feeling vindictive.” Several of the men eyed her carefully, and a few excused themselves to help with the cleanup. She huffed when she saw that. “And I hired the worst of the worst in Toronto.”

“Thankfully, you brought me along,” the last man commented.

She smirked, having wrapped the cord around the door handle several times, “Yes, thank you for berating me for completely relying on outside help that I took you along. You just wanted to see a new city and new women.” Not tied, as it was still wide open. Likely, when they would go to close it, it would be pulled and tightened before someone being knotted off. Then, when the next person, likely Murdoch or a constable trying to find them, threw open the door, it would pull at the cord, the pulley would twist-

And the leather strap would squeeze the trigger and shoot him in the head.

“Can you blame me, Ma’am? When most of the women I go to see believe I’m sleeping with you for my work, they don’t want to touch me.”

“Oh, so I should go and fuck one myself to get them on your back?”

James started coughing, surprising the group. “If you want to do that, Ma’am…” he tried, hopeful in his tone.

“Oh, hush,” she stopped, sounding amused. “We need to get going. Bug said that they were getting close to discovering the site. We leave now, we’ll have an hour’s head start before they start searching the area. Make sure the other men know that it it’s not taken, it needs to be destroyed.” Doing something complicated to the cord, when she shut the door, the pieces tightened on everything. Watts watched in trepidation as the mechanism did not go off, but primed itself.

After a minute, when they heard no one on the other side, did James say something. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Shuffling, he barely made it an inch before heaving some breaths. “This stuff is horrid.” He moved his head around at least to get a better look at Watts. The dried blood down his side was only a little surprising. He didn’t see anything else that let blood loose, but there were bruises upon bruises that he didn’t know about.

“Here’s hoping that Murdoch doesn’t take too long.” The younger man nodded. He was Tired, and the hunger his body had complained about had disappeared a day before. Now, he just felt emptiness that he had wished to not feel again years ago. His throat hurt, his mouth hurt. Various areas that she had bashed and hit sometimes reminded him about her abuse. His head suffered from aches and the dried blood was itchy and irritating. He wanted to go home.

After some minutes, ten or fifteen or twenty, James needed to talk again. His conversation was one sided, as Watts had never managed to get his gag even loose. There had been a threat that if he had done so, the tape that bound him to the chair would have covered his mouth. She had even held it over his nose until he started fighting and she ripped it off. That woman needed a better outlet for her anger.

“I don’t know why she hates William so much,” he pondered. The younger detective noted the use of his coworker’s first name. He had never used it, confused and shook him a bit if anyone other than his wife did so. “It was something she kept talking about. How he ruined her first, perfect plan.” He shook his head. “I’ve been accused of murder by him multiple times. That is literally how we met. I have never wanted to kill him.” James tilted his head. “Well, not inviting him down to the bunker if the world went to hell could be seen as wanting him dead, but honestly, inviting Julia, I knew she would have brought him along. Their daughter is lovely. But I never wanted to shoot him or stab him.”

Watts thought about what he heard learned from her ‘visits’. He was going to have to tell Murdoch as much as he could when the man got here. As long as James is able to warn someone on the other side of that door, I’ll be alive to do so. He’s smart enough for that, that’s why she hated him. He was smart enough to figure out her plan.

“Whatever her plan involves, it features something being disabled,” he mentioned. Watts paid attention as much as he could. “She needed someone smarter than him, and something of his needed to be disabled. That, and one of the men she hired was to do a bomb that would give them cover. She wanted it similar to that, triggered by movement against something. He had ‘troubles’. She corrected him until he was lying on the floor.”

His gaze on him, looking him over. “I hate to take guesses on this, Detective Watts, but I’m assuming you have experienced her anger and what it has led to?” A yes or no question. Something that was easy to answer with a nod. “I didn’t see that much blood after she shot you. Such an angry young woman.”

Almost by command, someone started walking by the door. Both quickly spun to it, wondering if they had accidentally brought the woman back. James wasn’t gagged and someone could have easily been coming back to correct that situation. He was wondering why she hadn’t in the first place.

Someone then started pulling the door open.

“STOP!”

The suddenness and loudness of his shout caused whomever had been opening the door to let go, where it shut again. Watts slumped in relief, and his adrenaline in the fear of his life quickly leaving his body.

“What the hell?”

“Pendrick?”

“Murdoch, splendid timing,” he continued shouting, “Listen very closely. If anyone opens that door without taking the cord off of the handle, it will pull the trigger on this gun and kill Detective Watts!”

“What?! Oh, Good Lord. Sir?!”

“George, it’ll be fine. Pendrick, do you believe that we will be able to open it any sort of amount to get at that cord?”

Analyzing it for a few more seconds, as he kept seeing if there was something they could do on that side. “I wouldn’t risk it.”

“What about your side?”

“Can’t move. Tape around my wrists and ankles, which they’ve made sure that neither of us can ‘walk,’” he listed.

“Can we break it?”

“Henry!”

“Well, if we break the door handle on this side, is it possible to let it drop and slacken the cord so it can’t shoot?”</i>

There was an uncomfortable pause as he suggested something that had the potential of working. <i>“As long as the handles are interconnected and not separate, it’s possible. James, you hear this?”</i>

“Perfectly.”

“Keep watch.”

They both watched as the handle was jiggled and twisted by whatever they were attempting on the other side. Watts kept flinching whenever he saw the leather getting tighter during their work. After a few minutes, the handle stopped working, and they figured that the men had to think about something else.

Instead the door started opening.

And the handle stayed the same. Eventually, a hand quickly grabbed the rod that was between the two to keep it from pulling back when there was enough room between the jam and the door. When that was secure, the door swung open. The two men slumped in relief, with one falling back into unconsciousness again. Murdoch was the first in, immediately seeing and going to the device that had the gun. “George, Henry,” he ordered. Needing nothing else, the two each went to a chair and started cutting at the tape holding them down. George went a bit faster, which allowed James to stand up and work out some of the pain in his wrists and legs. Henry’s knife needed sharping.

Murdoch stepped back, as he had the loaded weapon that had the hammer gently replaced back. “Watts,” Henry muttered, trying to wake him up. The tape was ripped, the gag had been pried out and left to hang when his knife refused to cut it. “Watts, come on.”

“I don’t believe he’s been fed nor watered during the entire time he’s been here,” Pendrick revealed. “She told them to keep him gagged, to keep him from talking his way out.”

None of them wanted to hear those words. “Then we need to get him to the hospital. It’s a good thing Henry and George bought their automobile.”

Prompts:

Bottle

Left Behind

Head Wound

“Revenge is the only thing my life is worth.”

#murdoch mysteries #llewellyn watts #james pendrick #whumplovers succeed #another for the prompts

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horizon-verizon · 1 year ago

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At least, Cersei is the one to refuse to go public with their incestous relationship and isn’t out there proposing to marry Myrcella to Tommen, unlike Saint Jaime who call his sister ‘queen of whores’, treat her as his property, and victim-blame her (I tell you, he [Robert] loves me not/And whose fault is that, sweet sister ?), and never spare a thought for Tysha (or Bran for that matter), but thats normal, its because he’s a feminist and teenage girl-coded. No wonder he has some sympathy for Criston Cole, lmao. Do people genuinely believes Jaime is a victim of patriarchy and that his gender doesn’t favor him over Cersei ?? Insane. Can’t wait for him to die. It’s 2023, Jaime isn’t Adam and Cersei isn’t Eve, dude is a misogynistic, racist and hyperprivileged white man and his father’s golden boy. Funny how you all talk like Green/Criston’s stans when it comes to Cersei and Jaime.

*EDITED POST* (9/21/23)

Probably from this recent post that itself has 3 links to other posts where I talk about Cersei as a character.

Um...when did I ever either imply or directly say that Jaime was "a victim of patriarchy and that his gender doesn’t favor him over Cersei"? Or express that he was better than his sister, morally? Or express that Cersei deserved to die more than he did?

Perhaps you have that impression because I never talked about Jaime exclusively once, or you're just going off of what you recently read and horribly misinterpreted the purpose and argument of that post. If the latter, I advise you to reread. If the first, I don't write about Jaime much simply because he doesn't interest me as much as Cersei or Tyrion, no one asked me my thoughts about him, and I'm not thinking of him apart from his relationship with Cersei or Tyrion. His knighthood and masculinity are...not "easy", but direct enough for me to not dwell as much as his other siblings' issues. (look to this post by blankwhiteshield about Jaime) I generally care more about women, children, and other marginalized people in fiction, even when I do sympathize with some white cis straight men some of the time.

I mean pre-Brienne Jaime. That's just how GRRm wrote his arc.

For me, blankwhiteshield's posts about Jaime HERE and HERE both suffice to give me a picture of who Jaime is bc they fill in some blanks I had in my pre-existing assessment of Jaime. Which actually wasn't favorable, anon. I find Jaime to actually be very annoying, and no, I do not think that he is Cersei's victim. He is deluded in some ways as much as her and is not a good person because of the abuse and emotional neglect they all get from Tywin/Westerosi society. I actually should have, since again, there were blanks. You can take a look at those links as well.

Look, Cersei is evil & abusive AS WELL AS a victim of domestic abuse woman & of misogyny since childhood. These are not mutually exclusive nor does it NOT mean that her domestic abuse only and directly caused her power-hungriness and need to control if not every, most aspect of her life and those she sees will help her get or maintain control and a good image of herself. Neither the abuse nor misogyny against her erases the fact that she develops hatred towards women, going so far as to violently and sexually objectify them like w/Taena. (Her using what she's observed men do to affirm power and copying it). Or that she pinched her baby brother's penis at a very young age, showing her classist and blase willingness to target children/one of the most vulnerable groups for her own sense of control over her husband, family, etc., and political power. She is also very willing to sacrifice/risk the entire city for her own control of power, similar to Aerys II. Cersei is complicated and there is nuance to her character, but she is unmistakably evil simultaneously. What I like about her or what I find compelling about her (if you haven't read the post about it) is that I can understand her motivations, and relate in some ways, and from practically babyhood she's been trying to be essentially "good enough" and perfect through external, social values of competency BUT also as someone has said: her need for perfection and power and total love comes across as pure in its own sort of twisted way. Her emotions are so intense and uncontrolled and she remains totally unaware of her loneliness that she comes across as childlike.

I also find it very funny how you're criticizing show!Rhaenyra for wanting to marry Jace to Helaena (I presume, you don't specify but that is the closest betrothal to the one you make b/t Myrcella and Tommen) when you say: "At least, Cersei is the one to refuse to go public with their incestous relationship and isn’t out there proposing to marry Myrcella to Tommen". Because while this would have done nothing to assuage Alicent--which was what Rhaenyra was trying to do--it was also not that bad of a deal for Helaena or Jace themselves. I personally dislike it bc, again, we're erasing Rhaenyra's relationship w/Laena and how she ever made it so that Jace married Laena's daughter...but I digress. OR you probably were referring to Jaime expressing the desire to go public with their relationship, that conversation? Again, what does this have to do with my argument in the post I recently posted and that I assume you're responding to?

#asoiaf asks to me #cersei lannister #the lannisters #jaime lannister #agot characterization #cersei's characterization #jaime lan's characterization #asoiaf parenthood #asoiaf #agot

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mischiefandmedicine · 1 year ago

Text

Very Full - Chapter 3: Rescue on the Street

Summary: Melara's voice draws Loki back to her timeline, this time to a busy street where he finds her in an uncomfortable situation. Pretending to be her partner, he saves her from the awkward situation with his usual charm. Their flirtatious exchange suggests a growing, unspoken bond between them.

Word Count: 2,328 words.

Chapter Warnings: Kinda fluff

Soundtrack Link

Author Note: Y'all get a two-for-one this week! I'm posting Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 tonight because they go together. This is a shorter chapter. I considered combining it with Chapter 4, but this is its own stand-alone scene. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Saoirse, seated across from Loki, tapped her foot impatiently as she crossed her arms, a look of frustration evident on her face. Her eyes bore into Loki’s, demanding his attention. “Wait a minute,” she interjected, her voice firm but resolute, interrupting the flow of his story. “You haven’t explained yourself yet. You’re dancing around the real story. Get on with it, Loki.”

Loki, caught off guard by his daughter’s assertiveness, blinked in mild surprise before a smirk formed on his lips. “Impatient as ever, I see,” he teased, raising an eyebrow at Saoirse’s insistence. “But very well, daughter. I suppose the nuances of my adventures and misadventures have yet to satisfy your curiosity.” He straightened in his seat, adjusting the fall of his cloak over the armrest with a flick of his wrist.

“Where were we?” Loki pondered with a playful glint in glowing, emerald-green eyes, his mind darting back to the tale he’d been weaving, now interrupted by his daughter’s irritation. “Ah yes, the aftermath of my unexpected arrival to the realm of Wisconsin. An intriguing realm indeed.” His lips curled into a mischievous smile.

Saoirse rolled her eyes in response, a gesture that seemed to say, “Enough of your theatrics, old man.”

“Upon my return from the encounter at the tavern,” Loki resumed, rolling his eyes back in her direction, “I found myself back on the throne at the end of time.” He paused, considering his next words carefully, Saoirse hanging on his every word.

“Melara, the human whose voice had the power to beckon me from across the universe, had vanished as quickly as she had appeared,” Loki’s gaze turned distant as he smiled fondly, nearly lost in thought. “She left me in sheer confusion. I assure you, that is quite the feat against the god of mischief.”

Saoirse leaned forward in her chair, conjuring a drink from which to sip, her curiosity piqued despite her earlier display of impatience. “So, what happened next? Did you find her again? I know you didn’t remain upon that throne yearning for her presence.”

Loki chuckled, a hint of wistfulness in his expression. “There you go with that lack of fortitude again, daughter,” he replied with a theatrical flourish. “The threads of fate are intricate and oftentimes unpredictable. To unravel the tale properly, one must take time to savor its complexities.”

Saoirse sighed, though she was growing increasingly annoyed with her father’s tale, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Fine, Loki. But please, spare me the unnecessary embellishments this time.”

Loki grinned, acquiescing with a twinkle in his eye, “As you wish, daughter.”

“I told you not to call me that!” Saoirse fired back.

***

Loki, despite his usual nonchalant demeanor, could not bring himself to shake off the captivating encounter with Melara. Her voice echoed in the corridors of his thoughts, beckoning him to appear, pulling at the threads of his consciousness. He had been, in his way, actively contemplating how he would seek her out once more, yearning to unravel the mystery that she seemed to embody.

He was a master of time and could control where and when he went. He could go back to a time and befriend her as a child finding the origins of her power, or he could go to her as an elderly woman and comfort her as she crossed over peacefully in her bed. At least, that is what he imagined when he thought of her. There were so many possibilities that crossed his mind as to how he could meet her again, but flashes of her deep brown eyes distracted him from his thoughts.

He had found her easy to talk to. The night they met, he had regaled her with stories of his friends at the TVA, stories of Asgard, and even stories of Thor, Odin, and Frigga. Her deep brown eyes had stayed locked on him as she sipped her drink thoughtfully hanging on his every word. Her smile burned a hole in his thoughts. Her laugh like music to his ears. The way her skin reflected the glow of the light around her. She had a warmth like he had not borne witness to in any woman other than his mother.

She was all that Loki could think about in his solitude, but before he could devise a cunning plan to traverse the realms and track her down once more, a melodious voice, familiar yet distant, called out to him from within the intricate web of the timelines once more. It was the same haunting voice that had drawn him across the dimensions before, an echo that resonated across the cosmic expanse, stirring something deep within him yet again.

Her voice rippled through the tangled threads of time, guiding Loki’s consciousness like a compass needle pointing north. He felt the pull, a magnetic force that drew him forth, an irresistible call that he could not ignore. With a flicker of his powers, Loki navigated across the expanses once more, trailing the tantalizing song that had summoned him. Threads of iridescent light flitted around him as his projection phased through the timelines.

He emerged once again in a place that exuded a sense of familiarity. It was a busy street bustling with life, illuminated by the glow of city lights, a stark contrast to the cosmic expanse he was accustomed to. As Loki stepped onto the pavement, his eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the vibrant cityscape. Her voice resonated in his ears louder, this time calling out to him in a playful hum, growing menacingly louder as he drew near the sound’s origin.

And there she was, Melara, on the same bustling street, looking flustered whilst attempting to conceal herself from something or someone, but failing miserably. Loki smiled fondly as he watched her crouched in the entrance of a shop, humming to herself as if to block out a nightmarish daydream. It was then, a pair, hand-in-hand, approached Melara, engaging her in what appeared to be a highly uncomfortable conversation.

Loki sensed her distress, the threads of time leading him unerringly to her side. With a smirk playing at his lips, he strolled over, his godly charm and wit at the ready. As he approached, Melara’s eyes widened in a mix of surprise and anxious relief. Her fleeting panic was replaced by a flicker of amusement and curiosity at Loki’s unexpected appearance.

“There you are, ‘Lara!” Loki chimed in, smoothly slipping an arm around her waist, his emerald eyes sparkling as he placed a gentle kiss on Melara’s cheek in greeting before turning to face the pair. He felt her cringe under his touch, recalling her words from the tavern, yet she stilled quickly, leaning into him.

“Who’s this, Melara?” the man inquired, his attention shifting to Loki, baffled by his sudden arrival.

“I’m her partner,” Loki stated with a grin, assuming casual familiarity. “I’m Dr. Odinson. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” He extended his hand, exuding confidence and charm.

Melara, impressed and slightly amused by Loki’s theatrics, played along, watching as Loki paused for an introduction to the pair. The cosmic trickster was there, right on cue, ready to weave his peculiar magic and save her from the awkward situation. The man just stared at Loki’s extended hand, a frown playing upon his lips.

“Oh, hmmm…David, this is my…um…partner Loki,” she blushed at calling Loki her partner. “And Loki, this is David and his fiancée, Stephanie.”

Stephanie offered her hand, which Loki grasped and planted a gentle kiss on her knuckles in greeting. “A pleasure,” he said with a flirtatious grin.

The woman appeared intrigued, her gaze flitting between Loki and Melara, sensing an aura of mystery around the charismatic stranger. David, on the other hand, seemed utterly oblivious to Loki’s identity and his jest.

“So, Dr. Odinson,” David cleared his throat. “What do you do?”

Loki’s grin widened, looking at Melara as if to say to her that he had the situation under control. “I am a surgeon at the Children’s Hospital. Quite the challenge, but I love working with kids.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened with admiration, impressed by the idea that Melara’s ‘partner’ was a distinguished pediatric surgeon…or so he claimed. She squealed with delight. David, however, seemed indifferent to the grandeur Loki was attempting to portray.

“Ah, yes, I imagine the medical field is quite complex,” David remarked, slightly nonplussed.

Loki chuckled softly, the smirk on his face widening. “Yes, indeed, it requires a sharp mind and a gentle touch,” he quipped, glancing at Melara, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face, leaning closer, catching the fresh scent of lavender and coconut emanating from her hair as he continued. “Not everyone can keep up with such demands.”

Melara stifled a nervous laugh, recognizing Loki’s clever banter, shaking off the fact that goosebumps had formed on her skin in response to Loki’s gentle touch and the feel of his breath caressing the skin of her neck.

“Absolutely,” David replied, nodding. “It’s all about dedication and precision.”

“Indeed,” Loki said with a sly smile, leaning slightly closer. “Dedication and precision, two things that one would go for in a…shall we say, ‘significant other’?”

Melara bit her lip, trying to stifle the laughter brewing at Loki’s innuendo, while Stephanie raised an eyebrow, recognizing a certain tone dripping from Loki’s words. However, David, remained rather oblivious to the teasing air, simply chuckling in agreement.

“It’s impressive when one can pull off such a commitment,” Loki continued, “especially when balancing saving young lives and keeping track of all your partner’s wants and needs. Say, for example, remembering anniversaries, birthdays, or even what she wore the night you met.”

Loki turned to look at Melara, “Darling, you were rather beautiful in your leather skirt.” He turned, leaning in to whisper in Stephanie’s direction loud enough so that David and Melara could hear his words, “Would you believe this free spirit was barefoot in a bar when I met her; the words ‘Beautiful Disaster’ scrawled across her bosom? Indeed, she is beautiful, isn’t she?”

Both Stephanie and Melara blushed at Loki’s final comment, prompting Loki to tighten his arm around Melara’s waist, pulling her in for another playful kiss on the cheek. Melara’s face flushed an even brighter shade of red, covering her face before she responded, “Loki, I can’t believe you remembered all that after all this time.”

It had, in fact, only been a few days, but David and Stephanie did not need to know that at the moment.

Stephanie glanced at Melara, a smile gracing her lips, amused by the lighthearted exchange between Loki and Melara. Meanwhile, David, still blissfully unaware, nodded along, entirely engrossed in the conversation.

“It’s always the little things, isn’t it, darling?” Loki purred, his grin widening, his gaze locked with Melara’s as he teased. “Those little details that truly capture the essence of someone. It either drives them crazy or it makes them insatiable in all aspects of life, even in the bed chambers, don’t you agree, Donald?”

David swallowed hard and wide-eyed, silent following Loki’s question and the implications of it. “David,” he spat back with a glare.

Melara chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, as she poked Loki in the ribs with her elbow, signaling some distress, “Absolutely!” she said. “But I’m sure these two don’t need to hear about all that.”

David, finally catching that the conversation might be drifting towards a more personal meaning for the pair, cleared his throat, signaling his impending polite exit, “Well…it was great running into you, Melara. Nice to meet you, Dr. Odinson.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Loki drawled, kissing the back of Stephanie’s hand one last time while flashing his most charming smile, eliciting a blush from her and a pointed stare from David.

As David and Stephanie bid their farewells, walking away down the crowded street, Loki turned his attention back to Melara, the sly twinkle in his eye softening to a warm smile. Melara, all five feet, two inches of her, just stood in silence before Loki with an embarrassed look plastered across her face as she shrugged Loki off of her person. This was much unlike the person she was when they had met in the karaoke bar just a few nights before.

“Thank you, Loki,” she finally said, hinting at the fact she too was about to make a swift exit. “So…um…goodnight!”

A huge grin splayed across Loki’s face, game, of course, recognizing game. “Oh no, no, no, no, no,” he tutted. “Who. Was. That?! You owe me that much.” Loki asked, teasingly.

Melara buried her face in her hands gathering her thoughts. She had left Loki high and dry in the karaoke bar with no explanation, seemingly vanishing mid-sentence. Now she was, once again, about to do the same, but reality had finally caught up with her.

“Ok, so,” her blush brightening as she panted. “This might be a story that requires a bit more…alcohol… maybe. I know a place near here,” Melara said, anxiety spilling into every word she spoke though the shy smile had not left her face.

Loki attempting to hide the concern from his face, curled his lips into a smile, “Lead the way, ‘partner’.” He gestured towards her, indicating that he was unfamiliar with the city.

Melara quickly grabbed Loki’s hand, pulling him through the bustling streets, occasionally stealing glances at him as he followed behind her. Once again, this petite woman, shrouded in mystery, held him captivated by her essence, but he could not possibly admit that to her just yet. The complexities of his presence on her timeline teased at being too much for a mortal, though it was, in fact, his facsimile that had the pleasure of sensing her hand in his. Her voice had called out to him once again, this time for what had appeared to be a trivial rescuing of sorts.

---

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