#I make fun of the goldfinch a lot but it had something to say at least

[spookfished]

media roundup june 2023

hey guys guess who just went "oh its the 4th of july. that means that its july" here im going to talk about things i read/watched/played last month! i didnt read as much but did finish a couple books that ive had checked out Forever. ok actually i read a lot woops

books/comics/written media:

fake dates and mooncakes by sher lee: fake dating (obv) premise between a cooking boy and a rich heir! book that made me realized im honestly just not that interested in ya romance anymore LMFAO. pretty sweet and a decent read, but landed more heavily on the expository end of uhh i guess diaspora fiction? than i really prefer. i think i picked this up bc the author got mega cancelled on tyk twitter lol??

bird by bird by anne lammott: book about how to write. i love to read about how people do stuff :3 some of the advice applies pretty universally to creative efforts i think.. made me want to write more too

john dies at the end by jason pargin: DNF. comic/horror about this loser guy who discovers stuff. sigh i tried so hard to like this book its supposed to be pretty 'mecore'...talked about this with alena a bunch but its like hm... i know the sort of casual offensiveness sort of goes in hand with being poor and white and in the midwest and i appreciate how its like that creates its own doomed narrative or whatever. but also i feel like the protagonist would call me slurs or something. also the lowgrade but pervasive orientalism is kinda offputting. probably fun for some other guy! i did enjoy the horror elements though

the goldfinch by donna tartt: literary coming of age about a boys relationship with a painting (the goldfinch). also he flops a lot and its sort of homoerotic i guess? a movie was made of it. so something to note is that ive had this book out on loan since literally december. neil kept on being like hey man just stop reading it LMFAO. thoughts cp'ed from discord:

why does the goldfinch feel like a 600 page leadup to the actual book which is 800 pages

idk at this point im kinda sick of pathetic lovelorn self obsessed semi literary men. like toku men are also sopping and pathetic but i think its more appealing when they are also kind and can be vulnerable. this guy is just annoying and kind of incel coded. like does a grand gesture to make up for the fact that he killed your dog while dogsitting

i actually did enjoy the parts post timeskip but i still think the first two thirds could have been cut or Greatly compressed or interspersed w the present or Something, yk? prose was nice though

the bodyguard by katherine center: romance novel about a woman bodyguard who lives for her job. fresh from a breakup, shes given a new undercover assignment with a handsome actor, recently withdrawn from society. will they be able to break each others' shells....? my mom recommended this to me LMFAO we kind of have different tastes in romance.. ive read a book by this author before i think her platonic scenes are very strong? i wish there had been a couple more of those. also i like how she always includes a life affirming section at the end about how important it is for us to open ourselves up to love etc etc cute but not especially memorable

kiss quotient by helen hoang: (reread) a shy, autistic econometrician decides that she needs to get better at sex, and so hires an escort. helen hoang is one of my faavorite romance authors i really enjoyed this reread although i kinda forgot that both leads say, think and do some pretty embarrassing things. but you know a little embarrassment is endearing and all that.. i still prefer her other book (the bride test) but this one is pretty good too. vivid characters 👍

sisters of dorley hall by alyson greaves: web fiction - a trans woman infiltrates a secret force-feminization program. ok im just cp'ing my thoughts from discord again but i enjoyed it a lot:

my thoughts are that the first like, third? is really really good. it like idk takes the very real trans fears of like discovery and passing and all that and fictionalizes them a bit. but like its still grounded and swag. sooo tense once The Reveal happens n things w steph are pretty normal it gets kinda meandering? which i dont really mind bc i love interpersonal drama even if i miss how tense and scary it was. but also theres only like two major plot threads going on rn and theyre both pretty slowburn. a timeskip would probably benefit tbh like the point rn is kinda like. the 7 year meteor? yeah sorry

like it used to be sort of psychological thriller? and now its sort of more character focus and also surprisingly fluffy.. im surprised that the author has said they have a complete outline bc it doesnt feel very focused atm? but also like i suppose things are snowballing a bit re: revealing the sisters to the outside world

an unauthorized fan treatise by lauren james: a fangirl trying to prove her rpf ship is real uncovers a greater conspiracy. to me if something is able to capture a specific age/vibe from the internet its automatically pretty good. however more and more people are learning how to do that so maybe i should change my standards... i was never involved in All That re: rpf or even fandoms of live action shows until kamen rider? but like i definitely knew people in hs that were sort of like this LMFAO so it felt very familiar. i appreciate the author trying to make that $$ but i dont know if it really needs an expansion/sequel.. the ending is better off with some ambiguity imo

impossible us by sarah lotz: literary romance? a man and a woman fall in love online, but encounter difficulties when they try to meet. ok im just pasting my thoughts here again (spoilers btw):

ok that was a lot of stuff. onto movies/tv:

xo kitty: kitty goes to a school to connect with her online boyfriend, but all is not well. yall this was not good. i guess my standards shouldnt have been that high but to all the boys ive loved before was so cute!! (havent watched/read the others). but like.. the writing was bad and the main actress just wasnt very sympathetic or charming? characters waste time saying "i can explain" until time runs out for them to actually explain, additional (and nonsensical) romance plots are added for no reason, and the male lead isnt even that hot. sorry. also kitty deciding to move to korea to connect with her mom but not bothering to learn a speck of korean and insisting that everyone else speak to her in english really sucks honestly. not even my mom liked it so thats how you know its bad 👎

succession season 1: yesss succession. greg is my favorite cant wait to see him become evil. makes me stressed

shin kamen rider (hideaki anno): reboot of the first kamen rider by the guy who made evangelion. this guy kinda makes the same thing over and over but it looked sick as hell so i wasnt complaining. like stella obstinaterixatrix said, kinda more introspective or even insular to the point of kinda ignoring the usual kr theme of justice but it was still very fun :3 kinda want to watch the original now

ready player one (movie): my parents made me watch this movie. aggressively mediocre.

kamen rider revice and live and evil and demons: pretty fun if you have the disease that makes you think revice is good, but mostly made me miss revice. i think they should have gone more into the clone thing but i always think that so

kamen rider juuga vs kamen rider olteca: two-parter special for kr revice. i forgot what happened in this pretty much immediately after but karizaki was hot

roman holiday: a princess touring in rome escapes her duties for a day, and meets a dashing young reporter. classic romance!! i actually liked this so so much like it actually is very romantic and funny and like deserves the hype. didnt expect it to be in black and white even so audrey hepburn is really hot. (spoilers) more romances should have bittersweet endings though like it hit

kamen rider ryuki: a young man is inducted into a battle royale between those fighting for their deepest wishes, and decides to try and stop the rider battle once and for all. hey guys ryuki is so fucking good for those who have watched madoka magica a lot of it is very heavily based off of/inspired by ryuki! but ryuki does it better. pretty much The kamen rider has so much to say about justice and love and what it means to be a hero and sacrifice and *runs out of air and falls over* also it made me cry. if you ever try kamen rider try this one <3

EDIT OH i forgot about across the spiderverse 100/10 obviously groundbreaking in animation nice take on generational trauma and also like the nature of adaptation and being in a multimedia comics franchise and all that. really hope the sequel doesnt get crunched too bad. oh but copaganda not great 99/10

video games:

twisted wonderland: gacha game where random disney villains are bishie high schoolers instead. ill play chapter 3 sometime soon i swear. gameplay is terrible as with most gacha games but the characters are cute? i feel terrible guilt for being involved with a disney franchise. honestly pretty compelling character writing sometimes though sorry

apico: stardew-like about raising bees (in beta). sooooo cute and the devs obv care about bees a lot in real life. the gameplay loop + breeding systems are a little bit punishing right now though i really hope it gets adjusted. took over my life during finals (woops) and i got like half the bees and then burnt out. multiplayer is fun though!

legend of zelda tears of the kingdom: the next zelda game, now featuring building + vertical elements. yeah this took over my life for two months like it did for a bunch of other people i finished the main story a couple days ago! i might go back to do a couple more of the shrine puzzles, but other than that i think im done. LOVE the vertical elements and also all the little sidequests there are to do and how the world has changed since botw. dragons tears was really good and OMG PROVING GROUNDS. would be a 10/10 if zelda was the protag stop damseling her you guys cmon

paper mario origami king: newest paper mario game, which is a spinoff of the main series where theyre all paper (duh). im about halfway through this, i think? tried it out because of the dunkey video lol and also bc it was free at my library. very charming and inventive, has a really good soundtrack and really funny writing! i know the gameplay was controversial, but im enjoying it a lot (and theres a lot of room for error). might 100% it

it feels like this month i tried a lot of things that i didnt really like LMAO. also a lot of romance. im very happy about finally finishing the goldfinch! the only holdout on my libby is slaughterhouse 5 :P i did find some things that i really liked though! anyways this one feels a bit more scattered but if you got to the ending, congratulations! thanks for reading :3

[tiktaalic]

Re: the goldfinch. I’m very curious what you think of it because my impression is that it thinks it’s very profound but isn’t in a way I would find very obnoxious. I say this as someone who regularly reads Victorian lit for fun I have a high tolerance for faux profundity but I feel like goldfinch would be too much for me.

However the way some people talk about it I get the impression there is. something about it. probably not something the author intended and not quite ‘the secret good goldfinch’ but. something. however I cannot put my finger on what

this is the goldfinch

i wouldnt describe myself as a donna tartt girlie ebcause i wasnt big on the secret history and i know nothing about any of her other books but i did really enjoy the goldfinch! i can see where you'd get that impression because i mean. pretentious antiques art dealer pov character. but idk i never felt like the goldfinch was going "this says a lot about society". it was very much a journal for the pov character which meant it was very small scale and never felt like it was trying to indict the world at large. i dont think the goldfinch is trying to pass itself off as profound. i think it's a meandering thing with threads you will flip back and forth through 700 pages for to go oh god the fucking themes about and it's something that stuck with me. it just got painted with the #dark academia brush which makes everything seem like a poser. its not that! it's about a kid who experiences a tragedy when he's young and the different miserable experiences he gets shuffled between in the aftermath, and then it's about the very fragile life he builds for himself as an adult. i think its very well summarized by theo the pov character talking to his childhood friend and theo's like yeah you did crazy shit when we used to get drunk and boris is like. I'M the one who did crazy shit? every night with you you would get black out drunk and try to kill yourself while i had to wrestle you away from the roof or away from the road of speeding cars. theo relays things to the reader in a way that suggests he THINKS hes functioning but does so with words that clearly telegraph that he's real fucked in the head.

[mo0n-water]

hello hello, sorry that it’s been so long :( i’ve missed you.

i will hear the song if it’s the last thing i do 🥸 what’s it called? what’s the first lyric?

what book is it? why is it your favourite? summarise it in three words?

i hope you allow yourself to be a child sometimes. growing up so quickly must be tough.

nostalgia is my hamartia, i’m very stuck in the past, whether it is good or bad. also my great aunt has the most beautiful house, i’d love to live there when i’m older but it’ll probably go to the other side of the family. we can hope :)

i don’t really have any definitive life goals. i’m more of a live and let live kind of person, what’ll happen will happen and i shan’t waste time fretting about it. but i would like to own lots of cats when i’m older and have the village i live in suspect me of being a witch. i think that’d be fun.

i love people who talk a lot and are passionate about things they are interested in. there is nothing i enjoy more than listening to someone ramble on about a historical event i’ve never heard of or a movie i’ll never see. my best friend is very much a talkative person and i think that’s why we get on so well.

how many people can come to my party? i would probably invite: my two best friends, david bowie, regulus black, frida kahlo, oscar wilde, amy winehouse, boris pavlikovsky (from the goldfinch), my great great uncle who’s existance no one knew about until a few weeks ago (he had a very interesting life) and you :) i think we’d all have some very interesting conversations.

my favourite quote is ‘i don’t know. poets are always taking the weather so personally. they’re always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.’ from the catcher in the rye.

questions for you:

- what are you doing right now?

- are you religious?

- how do you define art?

- do you want to get married? would you marry a friend in a non-romantic way?

- what’s your favourite smell?

- what would you name this chapter of your life?

- are you a responsible person?

- what’s your favourite punctuation mark and why?

HAHA HI!!! i missed you too!! i was telling the jegulily server about how i missed you…… then again, idk who you are, so maybe you saw that. (mysterious music.) anyway i hope you’re well & i mean… didn’t you say you were going to see harry yesterday? so you MUST BE well

re: your song… it’s called counting hours. you’re not gonna find it online but maybe i’ll send it to you if/when you tell me who you are. (not holding it hostage, i just don’t wanna post it publicly hahaha!! first line is “spent the early hours of june reading quotes from whitman” i guess you don’t know what that has to do with you, but the rest of the song is… a little more obvious xx

the book is looking for alaska! i think i mentioned it before. i like how it explores grief and unanswerable questions, as well as how it talks about growing up. for three words, i don’t know, i’d maybe say “famous last words” :)

you definitely seem like the type of person one would mistake for a witch. and believe me, that is the highest of compliments coming from me. and about nostalgia, YEAH. yeah. G-d yeah. i feel like nostalgia rules my life sometimes, but i don’t really mind that? i was talking with my dad about that recently, about trying to recreate old memories & bring the past back. i think there’s something beautiful about that.

i like the live & let live philosophy. i think it makes for an interesting life. my favorite kinds of people are the ones who aren’t afraid to do something unexpected, to seek out new opportunities & go on adventures. a change of plans is my favorite thing. have you always been like that, or is your decision to embrace that a new thing? (i am ignoring your use of the word shan’t, lest i make a fool out of myself in my own tumblr post…)

listening to people ramble is a secret favorite of mine. i have a friend who’s really into films, & i love to get him ranting about his favorite plot lines & all that cinematography stuff that i don’t understand. i don’t even like movies! but i like listening to him talk about them. what’s something you like to ramble about like that?

i like your quote & i like your dinner party. i question how wise it is to invite boris, given he’d probably derail the whole thing… but i suppose that’s the whole point, and what makes it fun. consider this my rsvp! i think regulus, bowie, & boris would either be best friends or sexy rivals. can’t decide, but i’m here for it. also, your great great uncle?? i would love to hear the story there.

right now, i’m sitting on a porch swing & thinking about you. the temperature is perfect out here, humid enough to feel like a hug without descending into something more like a chokehold. i keep getting distracted & staring at the daylilies across the road. i was sitting in the living room before, but my parents were talking so i stepped out here to focus on writing this. after, i think i’ll play guitar for a bit – i was working on something earlier that i’d like to continue.

yes, i am religious! i’m a religious jew, which i think i’ve probably mentioned before because i honestly don’t shut up about it. it’s shabbat today, & i actually just got back from an event at synagogue. it was a pride event more than a religious thing, though – i convinced the rabbi to go out in drag, which was fucking brilliant honestly. anyway, judaism is easily one of the most important things to me. how about you? i always worry it’s rude to ask but i love talking about faith.

okay i had a conversation about defining art a few months ago & it just about broke my brain… genuinely it was in like january but i still don’t have an answer, no matter how much i think about it. i kinda think art is an arbitrary categorization we use to fit human expression into a box, but my opinion there could be changed with a strong wind. help????

i’d definitely like to get married someday, but it’s not a goal i’m working towards or anything… obviously, i think. i’d definitely marry a friend. it all comes down to whether it’s the right person. (if this is an offer, my answer is yes xx)

my favorite smell is rotting wood.

i’d name this chapter of my life “the wandering” because i feel like i’m looking for something, but i’m not sure what it is & i’m not in any rush. taking my time! it feels a lot like wandering.

responsible??? me???????? i suppose it depends on what you mean by responsible. in some regards, sure. in others, not at all. i don’t like the idea of responsibility, though, it feels stifling – i’d rather dedicate myself to things out of love than out of any sense of responsibility. not sure if that makes sense or answers your question.

i like semicolons!! as my best friend can surely tell you… i just feel like they conceptualize my ceaseless need for elaboration. i’m wary of overusing them. but yeah i learned how to use a semicolon in elementary school & i’ve been terrorizing people with them ever since.

as always, i love the questions you pick! some from me:

- what grounds you?

- what’s a feeling you find overwhelming? how do you cope?

- what’s your relationship with music? what does it mean to you, how do you interact with it?

- favorite fruit?

- tell me a secret?

hope to see you in my inbox soon!! kind regards <3

[hellomynamiseglaf]

🌰Chestnuts and Warm Milk🍂

My List of ~Favorites~ for Interactive Fiction and Visual Novels

(This is a work in progress so please bear with me)

Interactive Fiction:

The Wayhaven Chronicles (WIP Series in Development) - @seraphinitegames  (Look,,, I’m just... obsessed.. I can’t stop thinking abt it,,, and I'm..... sometimes, I read and I think I feel like I know what love is.)

Mind Blind (WIP) - @mindblindbard (I just,, UGH it’s so good. I can't even say that much because my feelings about it are so potent that everytime I see an update I try to tell myself to leave it alone to play larger portions of updates as a treat and everytime my willpower FAILS and I replay the demo like twice in a row)

Demon: Recollect ; Forsaken (WIP) - both by @bathalafiction (whew...WHEW!!! Are you kidding me?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Look. I was attached to Demon: Recollect. I loved it. And then I played the Forsaken WIP and now I can't get over my absolutely BOMB character design for my player persona. Also it's kind of fun being considered a jerk in the game, because it opens up a lot of different options that I usually feel bad about taking)

Shadow Society - @carawenfiction (the concept is so interesting,, I dream of more. Also Quaiel...baby...)

The Soul Stone War - @intimidatingpuffinstudios (also whew!! I really enjoyed it and the characters all picture themselves really vividly in my mind for some reason.)

Greenwarden (WIP) - @fiddles-ifs (reading this is like thick fog.. but in a good way? I don't know how to describe it without pictures but this IF smells like fog over wet grass)

Divine Intervention (WIP) - @divineinterventiongame (the concept?? UGH SO GOOD. For some reason it's always the first game I click to check for updates)

Golden (WIP) - @milaswriting (😈😈😈😈)

Blood/line (WIP) - @bloodlineoffical (simply put,,, LARRY)

Supernatural in New York ; The Bastard of Camelot (both WIPs) - @llamagirl28  (UGH Both of these are so good in their own ways but equally as exciting to see updates for. I haven't consolidated my feelings much further than "my MC for SiNY is so cute" and "Mordred is a child" but they're all generally positive.)

Ace of Spades (WIP) - @steph-writing (I keep thinking about,,, con........)

Nevermoore (WIP) - @asteristories (AHHHHH.... let me say it again for those in the back: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

Son of Satan: The Mortal Coil (WIP) - @sosthemortalcoil (YES.)

Shepherds of Haven (WIP) - @shepherds-of-haven (yes. I just have to sigh because it's very good and I like saying those funny little words of power. But also outside of the game I can only picture this game as a great, grey border collie)

Attollo (WIP) - @attollo (Also a very interesting concept, whoo... I almost forgot how immersive it was untill I played the demo again and was reminded of how 'into it' I was straight off the bat. Also the seperate, short little piece on the blog with Sysba was also really good and I had a dream about it the other day)

Into the Shadows (WIP) - @wynnakang​ (whooo.... I'm sighing again, but louder. I press restart and play the demo again)

A Comedy of Manors (WIP) - @sviyaginthegreat (I kept replaying options that I hadn't chosen before because I wanted there to be more lmao)

Fallen Hero: Rebirth - @fallen-hero (I think there's a sequel coming up? I haven't stopped thinking about this storyline since I finished it omg... the.. the details are really good and I've become ridiculously attached to my tragic villain? Character... she IS the standard for my reusable IF persona, or at least one of my most prominent ones ;-D )

Samurai of Hyuga (WIP series) - (I'm pretty sure multiplechoicestudios.com is the development blog for this game, or at least what I've been checking for updates..... this is a series with four book currently out.... and I've been playing through book 4 at slower than a snail's pace in a desperate attempt to prolong my experience. I really didn't think I was going to like it as much as I did but I got a little too into it and now I'm horribly attached to all the characters)

The Porthecrawl Witness(WIP) - @porthecrawl-witness (I'm pretty sure this is a WIP?? But ugh. SCREEEEEE- it's so good. It's SO GOOD. I really want to punch Talbot in the face. And Asher, if for a different reason. And sort of Staci just to try. Quinn is just a cutie I could never hurt him like that. Ugh but they're all so good and I forgot that I was reading a WIP untill it suddenly was over..... I'mfeeling really aggressive rn as I'm writing this, so please just note that the punch comment is meant as a statement on how interesting the concept and immersiveness of the characters and story is)

Forgotten Names (WIP) - by Alexandra_Zorila on the CoG Forum (turn the volume up. AHHHHHHHHHH!!! Look, look. It's..... delicious. It's SO interesting and I obsessively have a tab open on my computer to check for updates)

OFNA: Birds of a Feather (WIP) - @ofna (the vibes are so grey and smoky but the fog is definitely from a party smoke machine and the room is only dark because the walls are taped with those huge sheets of black construction paper that teachers use to cover their bulletin boards with... the game definitely falls in the 'dark and mysterious' genre but something just strikes me as really funny when I play it. Anyway it's good and it's in a lot if recommended lists for a reason. Also I'm very attached to my American Goldfinch)

More Things in Heaven and Earth (WIP) - @morethingsgame (in the same way that it's fun to play Guenevere in the Guenevere game or Mordred in The Bastard of Camelot, playing Ophelia in the sort-of Hamlet story is really fun. If anyone has read the Missing collection- which I absolutely love- by Margaret Peterson Haddix, this gives me similar vibes for some reason. Anyway, I really want to give Hamlet a hug and make him a flower crown or something)

A Tale of Crowns (WIP) - @ataleofcrowns (It's kind of not even funny how much I love this game... It's hard to even describe why I like it, just that it's so well rounded in terms of the story, characters, dialogue, and relationships. It's such an interesting plotline and it's pretty immersive. Also the first time I read the demo, there was an update as I was reading and the high that sent me on has very rarely been matched. Also Dara running to save my Crown in the tunnel?? 🤚😩🤭💓 ugh. UGH!! That's good food for my fool heart)

Scout: An Apocalypse Story (WIP)- @anya-dev (I'm usually not that into apocalypse themes/plots but I really enjoyed this game, and the plot was very good and intruiging... it really pulled me in and I like my character in the story a lot. I don't know why but it tastes like chikuwa, atsuage, and this specific type of carmelized onions that my mom makes sometimes)

Nothing left to burn (WIP)- @clowdee-works (......ouch. I *knew* what was going to happen and I STILL became attached to Drew)

Smoke and Velvet - @roast-ifs (It's good. And I am VEDY much into my character design. Also the story is really interesting, and I enjoy the setting a lot somehow)

Speaker (WIP)- @speakergame (very fun to play, and each update gets me more interested in the aspects of the plot. I also really like the little descriptions of what the characters think of the player)

The Nameless (WIP)- @parkerlyn (interesting plot, I like the characters a lot, and The aesthetics of this world are so interesting. Definitely had a good time visualizing what everything looked like)

Fields of Asphodel (WIP) - @asphodelgame (I think it's really cute so far!!! I like mythology in general, and the persephone/hades dynamic is *mwah!*... I like the way the story progresses in the beginning, and I think it works well in drawing the reader into the world. I also very much enjoy petting large dogs.)

...there are so much more.. and I have followed so many blogs.........

I'm not sure why I can't find it rn but there's this one WIP game that I really like where the MC buys a manor for like dollar and moves to go live there with her best friend and shenanigans ensue as they try to settle in and fix up the estate

Harbringer (WIP) - @harbringercog (....are you KIDDING me?? I was fully planning on just enjoying the demo and keeping a mental note to update the list sometime later,,, but this game... THIS GAME really made me fold. It's very immersive and regardless of how nervous the author claims to be after releasing the demo, it's of my humble opinion that those nerves can be calmed. It's very good. I was planning on procrastinating and reading a little bit and then going back to this essay I need to write, but somehow I got pulled in and ended up reading through the whole demo and it's apparent that I honestly had no chance of getting through this without becoming invested in the plot.... just... so good.. I'm very excited to see how this will progress)

Visual Novels:

Andromeda 6 (WIP) - @andromeda-six​  (I repeat: Obsessed, I come back every few months to see an update and I fall deeper into the hole every time...)

To the Edge of the Sky (WIP,, probably) - by Ajané (??) on Steam (I think, it’s been a while)

Next on my list to check out: Perfumare by pdrrook

Does.... does The Arcana game by Nix Hydra count as VN?? If so, then yes.

Similarly, the FictIF games are all entertaining, although Last Legacy and Heir to Love and Lies are my favorites rn (and.....unfinished....)

I also don't know if this counts, because I kind of consider Otome games to be their own genre, but on the Love 365: find your story by Voltage Inc. There are a bunch of fun stories, my favorite of which are: the Shinichi Kagari route on After School Affairs and the Saejima and Keiichiro routes on Bad Boys do it Better

..To be continued...

[jaketism]

OOH also we're doing goldfinchnatural tonight what are your thoughts on goldfinchnatural

i think if dean was willing to read the goldfinch it would make him insane. or he'd just completely miss all of the subtext and be like that was boring as shit sam why did you make me read it. sam read it when it came out which i've already posted abt before i think he got the subtext and liked it but didnt obsess over it.... theo would hate spn as a show i think (hes just not into that sort of power fantasy and he would absolutely not be willing to watch it for homoeroticism reasons) boris would think it was fun. pippa had a superwholock phase in high school ive decided. not like wore shirts in public but like had a tumblr and posted about it type phase. 

if we're talking crossover. i got very thorough and made tables which i will now turn into paragraphs so here goes.

if we're talking about adult theo dean would microaggress him if it's kid theo dean would immediately be like Parent Mode Hey Kiddo Ya Know I Lost My Mom Too, It's Not Your Fault, Sometimes Shit Just Happens And It sucks. adult theo would think dean was an animal, kid theo would be ticked off by being babied. sam would like. pity grimace at theo. he’s had years of practice w dean’s I Don't Feel Anything Shut Up shit but like. knowing there's two of them and that they're still so sad in radically different ways would make him just really sad? theo would respect sam. cas would get on fine with theo. he's just sort of some guy to xem. theo would think cas was impolite for missing social intricacies or being blunt which makes me sad. but it's what i think. jack wouldn’t get why theo acts like he does, sort of how he doesnt get why dean is so repressed. he just doesn't clench up around themselves the way theo and dean do. theo would find jack exhausting.

dean would either think boris was shady as hell or think he was just. SO cool. If we're talking kid boris dean would maybe try the hey kiddo thing but it'd be kinda like ben where he has to switch to a more frank approach because boris is so determined not to be delicate (and let's be honest he's pretended long enough it's become true). adult boris would think dean was a delight. he'd probably say something catty to theo about dean being his new best friend. sam would think boris was shady as hell!! no trust whatsoever immediately like Dean This Guy Is Bad News. boris would think sam was boooooringggggg but if he found out about either of the hot girl summers he'd be OBSESSED and pester him like what did demon blood feel like do you think i could try some would it kill me? all men who are not dean (and i guess sam) are just some guy to cas this is very boring. boris would think cas was funny in a wind up toy sort of  :/ jack would be freaked out by boris bc boris just unabashedly does shit jack has been taught is Wrong And Bad. boris would be suspicious of jack. too nice he must be up to something no one's just that nice because they're nice.

dean would be nice to pippa but idk if she'd stand out to him as anything other than another civilian until she mentioned she'd read the books (which. idk im not super attached to that idea bc it makes it hard to navigate how they'd interact) which like usual would freak him out a lot. unless its kid pippa in which case once again Hey Kiddo How's It Going Mode would be engaged. adult pippa would pity dean. books or not she just feels bad for him. sam and pippa would be very quickly like Hello Fellow Intellectual they'd talk about music and books and basically all the shit dean won't talk to sam about also i think if they talked long enough they'd end up talking about theo/dean and being like it just sucks he hates himself too much to just let himself be happy huh. if she's read the books she'd be respectful of their privacy and maybe assume that lots of it was dramatization… like just put distance between them and the characters she read about when she was a teenager. i think cas and pippa would get along pretty well. cas deserves some non winchester/winchester circle friends. idk what they'd talk about but i think they'd have a nice time. i think she'd be great with jack. i don't have much else to say i just think she's good with kids and more broadly good with people but it's hard to really know through the theo lens.

[brotheralyosha]

If we assume that subject matter is what defines a book as “young adult,” it doesn’t make much sense to discourage adults from reading a book with that label. It is as much as saying that certain types of human experience are beneath serious adult attention, which I don’t think is true. And it does seem that many books have the Y.A. label slapped on them purely because of their subject matter. (After all, there is little cost to a publisher for labelling something Y.A. if the label doesn’t put off adult readers.) But, in these cases, the label is simply a marketing tool, which isn’t something that a critic ought to be paying attention to.

On the other hand, the label is sometimes wielded to make a real literary distinction. It is obviously possible to give a subject a treatment that is more appropriate for a young audience. For the most part, this involves simplifying things—first the diction and syntax, but finally the whole picture of life. There is nothing dishonorable about this simplification—it is a way to make material accessible to children. Nor does it strike me as shameful for adults to spend a lot of time reading these simplified treatments. But it does strike me as strange. If someone told you that he was an American-history buff and that his favorite work of American history was “Johnny Tremain,” you might not think this a cause for embarrassment but you would probably suspect that he didn’t know as much about history as he thought he did, and you would wonder why his interest in the subject had not led him to adult treatments of it. In some sense, you might even think he was missing out, that the simplified treatments of history that we give to children are not just less true but less interesting because of their lack of complexity.

To be interesting—James called this the one obligation that every novel has. And this gets to the heart of my quarrel with how this whole argument has been conducted, and why it put me in mind of those exchanges that I’d had with friends about reading James. When the champion of adult culture is portrayed, even by himself, as an old curmudgeon yelling at the kids to get off his lawn, it suggests that this adult culture is one of the unfortunate but necessary costs of coming into adulthood. We give up the pleasures of entertainment for the seriousness of art. I just don’t think that this is true. In his preface to the New York edition of “The Golden Bowl,” James discusses the impulse to tinker that inevitably arises when an author revisits work in a later edition. After considering various ways in which an author might attempt to improve a work, he concludes,

The ideally handsome way is for him to multiply in any given connexion all the possible sources of entertainment—or, more grossly expressing it again, to intensify his whole chance of pleasure. (It all comes back to that, to my and your “fun”—if we but allow the term its full extension; to the production of which no humblest question involved, even to that of the shade of a cadence or the position of a comma, is not richly pertinent.)

No one—not Proust or Flaubert, not Joyce or Woolf—did more than James to refine the popular form of the novel into a work of high art, and “The Golden Bowl” represents the height of that refinement. To some—not just now but in his own time—it represents the point at which that refinement veers into sterility. But, even when discussing his last great book, James insisted that it all comes back to fun. Of course, there is a bottomless ambiguity in that very Jamesian caveat—“if we but allow the term its full extension”—but that itself is part of the fun.

Many defenders of “The Goldfinch” seemed to divide its readers into those who allowed themselves to appreciate the book’s obvious pleasures and those who were too snobbish or circumspect to do so. Hence Grossman’s remarks about Wood lacking the “language” to praise the book, as though the praiseworthiness of the book was ultimately a given. But I disliked “The Goldfinch” precisely because I found it so boring. It was boring not because it was insufficiently “literary” but because it was overly “literary.” Not a single character or moment in the book felt lived in any meaningful way. The picture of life that it gave was so obviously false that it seemed designed to appeal to someone who hadn’t lived very much of it, and thus couldn’t tell the difference.

Much is taken from us as we pass out of childhood, but other human beings who have suffered these losses have created great works of art, works that can only be truly appreciated by those who have suffered the same losses in turn. These works are among the great recompenses that experience offers us. Putting down “Harry Potter” for Henry James is not one of adulthood’s obligations, like flossing and mortgage payments; it’s one of its rewards, like autonomy and sex. It seems to me not embarrassing or shameful but just self-defeating and a little sad to forego such pleasures in favor of reading a book that might just as easily be enjoyed by a child.

[mundungs]

ϟ.  → robert sheehan : genderfluid : he/they/she : dealer of illicit objects and substances : the raven by the alan parsons project ϟ  did you see mundungus fletcher ? you know ,  31 year old halfblood who was formally in ravenclaw. some say dung can be quite furtive but are known to be unreliable. they are aligned with the order .  maybe that’s why they remind me of naming stray cats, flicking a lighter over and over again, falling asleep on the subway. ϟ 

some links for food

bio

stats

pins

playlist

history

ciannán o’donnell is a flighty man, one of many relationships and flings and little loyalty, and so his affair with maeve fletcher does not last long. when she tells him she is pregnant, he moves on to a different woman, and maeve has her son alone, with her sister on her side. and thus, mundungus is born (and giving an arguably atrocious name).

he grows up with his mum – a halfblooded witch and by far his favourite person in the world – in limerick, attending muggle school there. he knew who his dad was, but wasn’t quite sure how to feel about — his father is a criminal, a prominent member of the irish mob. 

he meets his dad for the first time at age seven, and was nothing but impressed. his dad showered him with gifts, his mum watching with a furious look on her face but biting her tongue. that moment was a switch for mundungus; he felt the need to impress his dad. he stole some sweets from a store on his way home from school a week later, fished some pennies out of the pockets of his classmates a few months later. when he phoned his dad to tell him, his laugh was warm and filled with life. his relationship with his dad got better as his behaviour got worse. the thrill of stealing, of doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to, lit him not only on fire because it was exciting, but also because he knew his dad would adore it. 

but ciannan, a flighty man, pushes and pulls. and so mundungus was fed disappointment by his father, liking love off a shiny knife rather than a spoon ( silver or plastic, what the fuck does it matter ). details omitted, long story made short: his dad sucks and his mother tries, but mundungus is pulled towards that what smells of danger.

DRUGS MENT. at hogwarts, dung is sorted into ravenclaw. not at all the booksmart type, he falls more into the chaotic-creativity, random-bursts-of-wanting-to-learn-everything-about-something type of ravenclaw. there’s two worlds, then: the muggle world, where he slowly dips his water further in criminal waters, and the wizarding one, where he’s chaotic and messy but a student. when he grows older, these overlap: dung starts selling some of his dad’s weed at hogwarts, and soon gains a reputation of being able to get people less-than-legal shit. 

not getting high off your own supply is not a sentiment he agrees with. not then, not later, not now. dung is fun, always in for a party and willing to supply the goods to throw it. if some rich purebloods lose a few galleons at said party, well, it sure isn’t him! END OF TW

he graduates with two newts, in herbology and potions, failing his dada and charms exams. he’s not an academic.

falling into the family business after graduation is easy. mundungus is attracted by the criminal underworld, both that of muggle ireland and that of the wizarding world. knockturn alley was a place frequented in teenage years, but now becomes more his place. he makes connections, exchanges strange potion recipes for other things. makes an odd wager on a bunch of stolen brass scales and turns a profit. 

a career is not something that interests him; he is more interested in bending rules and making quick money. thievery, selling illegal shit, heists, fraud, fuck-all. mundungus is not limited by one descriptor, one kind of criminality. he just does what he wants and hopes to make a good penny.

but then he almost gets sent to azkaban over some, in his frank opinion, bullshit. it’s dumbledore who talks the wizengamot out of it, saddling dung up with some community service and persuading him towards the order. he’s twenty three. the war is still fresh. he has no interest in it, but he owes the old man. fine.

mundungus does vehemently oppose blood purity and any kind of discriminatory ideals, an anarchist in his very bones, but he is also cowardly. to side with self-proclaimed rebels is not in his blood and yet it’s where he ends up, bringing shady ties to the underworld to the table and a sheer ability to sneak around and fuck the law. and maybe, amidst the ranks of the order, dung finds something he’s not very familiar with: a large family. and dung? well, he’s the stoner, gay, super-fucking-chaotic cousin.

personality

if jesper fahey and kaz brekker had a child, it would be dung. 

other character parallels: fezco ( euphoria ), boris ( the goldfinch ), doug judy ( b99 ), jason mendoza ( the good place ), chris miles ( skins ),  nick miller ( new girl ), creed bratton ( the office ), scott lang ( marvel ), lillian ( unbreakable kimmy schmidt )

technically he’s homeless. he’s got a bedroom at his ma’s place, has a ton of squatter connects in the muggle scene and couch surfes aplenty, but dung doesn’t rent a place. why? landlords are evil. he could afford a place, just doesn’t see the point. life’s better with some adventure.

appears very neutral in public as it’s beneficial to his role in the order??? 

.... tortured artist. writes poetry and loves to draw and paint. 

tattooed the fuck up. some are his own designs.

can usually be spotted wearing The Coat, a rly expensive, vintage long coat that he once stole of a pureblood. he’s enlarged the pockets with some handy spellwork and pretty much carries everything he owes in there, like his produce and his money and his second pair of shoes and his art supplies and probably some random trash. 

loves animals. he loves stray cats especially <3 they are his kin. 

an anarchist. a bit of a punk. a deep idealist with a cowardly heart so constantly betraying himself (and sometimes others?)

queer! enby! genderfluid! i used he/him pronouns throughout this intro but dung truly doesn’t give a damn what u use. loves to dress up in feminine clothes. 

has a ton of aliases, lol, the most important one being marigold fincher. 

cusses too fuckin much to be healthy :/

oh no he is a big sad insecure kid deep inside :/ dont tell anyone how embarrassing!!!! shhhh!! it’s a secret.

quick connection ideas

victim. wow please. if your character is rich. let me steal from u. pick ur pockets. break into ur house. get some of ur stuff and drop it on the black market. 

customer. dung sells. whatever u need. drugs. weird magical things. ask and ye shall receive. his prices are whack but he does deliver <3

pal. party friends! order friends! random encounter friends! dung has a trashmouth and loves to talk pls let him chat u up and u will never be rid of him <3

couch. he couch surfs. a lot. if ur character trusts dung enough to let him into their home (which they shouldnt) then pls let him sleep over for a night. he will leave a strangely expensive necklace on ur kitchen table as a thank u. or wilted flowers. no in between.

skeptic. ur char is in the order and thinks dung is a liability and maybe they have a point. a point mundungus would rather not face :)

dmle bitches. dung hates anyone authoritative but esp the coppers at the ministry (hit wix & aurors) (yea he calls them coppers sorry he doesnt respect them enough to call them aurors <3). give me that doug judy/jake peralta dynamic. or just someone in the dmle who is like ... sigh this guy again??? 

fwb/one night stand/fling/etc. he’s a bit slutty <333 give him some ppl he’s hooked up with / will hook up with.

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 23

Reliable

Summary: Jessica and Drake have brunch together before the Derby, and Liam doesn’t like his brother being around the children

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: slight mention of character death 

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here! 

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake @queenjilian @kuladekiwi @twinkle-320 @iaminlovewithtrr @charlotteg234 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @tinkie1973 @louiseingram1208 @queencatherynerhys @pens-girl-87 @missevabean @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13​

I’m not sure if the tags are working or not, but I hope I got everyone down! If you would like to be added/removed, please let me know :)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Drake- 

“Oh, Drake!” said Jessica a few hours before the Derby. She took the ring out of the box. Holding it towards the light, she takes a moment to admire it. “It’s beautiful! It’s just...” her forehead wrinkles. 

“What is it?” When she had gone to make a telephone call, Drake took the ring box out of his pocket and put it on the table cloth. They were at a restaurant eating brunch, and even though it wasn’t yet noon the place was chattering and beginning to crowd. 

“Well, it’s just... I wonder.” She examines the ring as if she was trying to make a decision. “I mean, it’s gorgeous! Thank you! But... will it be quite right?”

Drake’s mouth went dry. “Well, it’s up to you, I guess,” he says, reaching for some lemon water she had ordered them and taking a large drink to conceal his surprise and annoyance.

“Because... diamonds.” She puts the ring on her finger and holds it out in different angles. “I adore them! But—” she holds it up again to sparkle in the overhead lights “—diamonds aren’t really my stone. I think they’re just a bit rough, you know? And with my style, it would seem utterly out of contrast!” 

Drake forces himself to smile, trying to seem like he understood her reasoning. Was I supposed to consider her sense of style when deciding whether or not to give her the ring? “It’s whatever you think.”

“Oh, now you’re annoyed.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Yes, you are! I’ve hurt your feelings!” Jessica gives a pout.

“I’m just tired, Jess.”

And he was. Yesterday evening had been hectic. He had spent a lot of time wondering about his relationship with Jessica, since they were technically engaged, until Drake finally came to the decision that she didn’t deserve his indecisiveness. Clearly she wanted to marry him because she cared about him, right? Even if Drake cared for someone else more than her, he knew his real choice was either Jessica or no one. And Jessica didn’t deserve to be left for nothing, so Drake decided to go all in.  

He stayed on the sidelines during the Masquerade Ball as usual, but when he saw Leo and his family, he decided to greet him. 

It was a shock to see Leo, but Drake understood that he probably just wanted to support Liam. After he asked Leo casually what he was doing there — even though Drake believed he already knew the answer — to his surprise, Leo was going to stay for the Social Season to try to make amends with his brother. For what reason, Drake didn’t know, but when Leo took him to the side away from his wife and kids, he revealed that he played a small part in keeping Riley away.

Drake had wanted to punch Leo right there and then, but he saw Liam from the corner of his eye, walking over with a forced smile trying to cover up his anger and confusion. Drake watched Liam and his brother talk from a distance, and then Olivia had come up to him. 

Drake had thought she was going to spend the day with Hana and Riley, but instead Olivia reveals that she’s actually been looking into the case with the missing art around Europe, and believes it might be connected to the attack at the Met, where Riley’s husband had died. 

Olivia had said nothing else, and walked off to join Hana and Riley, who were talking to a man with dark hair in a dark suit without a mask on. He looked slightly out of place, but noticing the way that Gabriel and Eleanor smiled up at him, Drake figured out that the man was Boris, the children’s Godfather. 

Boris was introducing himself to everyone in the group. Drake started walking over, figuring that it would be nice to get to know more about Riley and the children’s life from before, but Boris quickly glances in Drake’s direction, and says goodbye to everyone. 

After that, Drake talked to Kiara for a while, who began talking about God knows what, and then he decided to end the night right after dinner. 

The next morning, Liam had told Drake that Eleanor had gotten lost in the maze last night because of the Auvernese royal children. Drake cursed himself, angry that he wasn’t able to keep the children safe, and he noticed his feelings reflected on Liam’s face. 

After that, Jessica had called him, and even though Drake wanted to stay put and help Liam, Riley, and the kids, Liam told Drake that he should go. 

So now, while Jessica was looking at the ring — doubtfully it seemed — Drake told himself that he would tell all his friends at the Derby that him and Jessica were engaged. Her words about the ring had unsettled and confused him, but he figured that if she didn’t like it he could just get her a new one.

“Well look,” she speaks up again. “I will wear it. It’s beautiful. And I know it was your grandmother’s.” 

“I just want you to wear what you want.” 

“I’ll tell you what I think.” Playfully, she reaches across the stable and takes Drake’s hand. “I think we should go get ready for the Derby.” 

“Alright,” Drake says, pressing her palm into his face, trying to remember how lucky he was. 

- Gabriel - 

Most of our morning was spent trying to calm down Ella and convincing her that she could make it through the events today. We had to keep reminding her that she wasn’t alone, and that we wouldn’t let the Princess of Auvernal come near her again. 

But then she got upset again when I had to leave for the horse race with Liam, and she had to go with Mom. Our mother told her that we would reunite after everyone got there, and me and Liam went into the car to get to the Derby.

“Besides the incident with your sister yesterday,” my father says when we’re in the car, “did you enjoy the party?” 

“Yeah.” I nod my head, thinking back to the night before. “Everyone was really nice and the party was fun, even though I didn’t get to dance or anything.”

Liam smiles at me. “I’m glad. As prince, you’ll have to go through a lot of events like that. It’s good that you aren’t uncomfortable, but if you ever are, let me know, alright?”

I nod, thankful that my father was willing to help me. 

As soon as we got out of the car, photographers lunged at us. Through the bright flashes, I saw some reporters trying to push forward and scream questions. Liam quickly put a hand on my shoulder, and with the help of the guards, he led us away from the crowd.  

We reached a tent that was a little farther from the main seats, and was closer to the edge of the race track. Liam holds the curtain for me, and I move in. 

While he goes to take a seat, I stay near the curtain, occasionally peaking my head out to see if Ella and everyone else were here yet. 

“Come on,” Liam says, now standing next to me. “We can go wait for them over there.” 

We stand near a long path that goes towards the stadium seats, where people can’t really see us. I keep my eyes peeled for anyone I might recognize, and Ella finally rushes up to me. 

“Hi, Gabe!” my sister cries, rushing to my side. She’s followed by Mom, who talks to Duchess Savannah, Countess Hana, and Uncle Boris. Behind them are Duke Bertrand and Bartie, then Aunt Rowan and Lord Maxwell, and then Drake — wearing a formal suit! — with a woman I don’t know. 

Everyone moves towards the side and away from the alley so they wouldn’t block anyone. 

“Liam,” Mom grabs his attention. “I want you to meet Boris, Gabe and Ella’s Godfather.” 

“Pleasure,” Uncle Boris says, holding out his hand. I almost flinch. Since Uncle Boris didn’t have a title, isn’t he supposed to just bow? 

Liam firmly grips Uncle Boris’ hand and gives it a shake. “Likewise,” Liam responds. He then turns to Drake and the woman and says, “Lady Jessica, it’s nice to see you again. It was unfortunate that you were unable to attend the Ball yesterday.”

Lady Jessica smiles and bows. “Yes, Your Majesty, I had something to attend to. But do not fret, I promise Drake and I will be making more of an appearance together.” She turns to give Drake a smile, and it makes me want to smile. 

Drake clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. Now that we’re engaged—”

“What?!” Duchess Savannah cries.

“Drake, how long have kept this from me— uh, us?” Lord Maxwell cries. 

“Oh, it’s barely been a week,” Lady Jessica comments. 

“Well, congratulations, you two!” Aunt Rowan says. Everyone repeats the wish, giving Drake a pat on the shoulder and kind smiles to Jessica. 

Someone says that we should go find our seats. Everyone begins to leave, until it’s just Mom, Liam, Ella, and I, with Drake a few feet away, lingering behind the group. 

“I wanted to ask.” Liam clears his throat. “If you and the children would want to watch the show with me?” 

I see Mom glance at Ella and I, and then glance behind her, where people were walking towards their seats. Some of those people look back at Mom, and she quickly looks back at Liam. 

“I told you last night that I already overheard some rumors going around,” Mom says to Liam. “I don’t want there to be more, so I think it’d be better if we went and sat with everyone else.” 

“But! But!” Ella cries. She was already tense and irritated from this morning, and our mother’s words just made it a bit worse.

Mom tilts her head at Ella, which was her silent way of telling us not to argue with her. 

Ella crosses her arms and turns away from Mom. She then looks up at Liam, reaches her arms up at him, and says, “Daddyo! Take me with youuuu!” 

“I see no reason why she can’t,” Liam says, a smirk on his face. I want to laugh, because Ella’s dad would never go against anything Mom said. Ella and I watched Mom and Liam slip into a staring contest, Liam’s smile never falling, and it was funnier than it should have been. 

Mom points at Liam, wiggling her finger. “Don’t get into trouble.” She ruffles my hair and kisses Ella on the forehead, and then walks away. 

I lead us back to the tent. When I go in, I see someone sitting on the chair that Liam was in a couple minutes ago. He turns, and I notice that it’s the same man from yesterday; the one who called himself Uncle Leo. 

“No,” Liam says, moving in front of us. “Leo, get out.” 

“Calm down, brother.” 

Liam had a brother? So “Uncle Leo” wasn’t lying when he said that Hunter and Heather were our cousins. 

“Absolutely not,” Liam continues in a low voice. “I told you yesterday that you aren’t welcome here. The only reason I haven’t kicked you out yet is for the sake of appearances.” 

Liam’s brother nods at him. “And I’m grateful for that, Liam, and I told you, I’m only here to make amends.”

“Did the race start yet?” Ella interrupts their little disagreement. She’s near the railing now, looking out onto the tracks.

“No, angel,” Liam turns to her. “They’re just lining up the horses.”

Liam’s brother raises an eyebrow at him, and Liam’s jaw clenches. 

I hear the curtain move aside with a small gust of air, and Drake emerges. “Hey there,” he says. “Everything okay?” 

“Yes.” Liam turns and pats his brother’s shoulder. “Leo was just on his way out.” 

“I figured I’d see you somewhere,” Drake comments. He moves forward to give Uncle Leo a friendly pat. “I saw Katie talking to Savannah and Riley.” He turns towards Ella and I. “Hunter and Heather were looking for you both.” 

“Oh,” Ella exclaims, looking back at me. I knew she really wanted to make friends, and I was about to suggest that we go back to where Mom was, but then a shot rings out and I hear the thunder of horses running. 

I notice Liam glare at his brother before joining everyone at the railing. 

“The gray one is going fast!” Ella notices. 

“That one is named Macbeth,” Liam tells us. “He usually does very well in the beginning, but— see! Right there, he’s beginning to fault.” 

“The black one’s moving forward!” I cry. 

“That’s Sherluck,” Liam says. “But do you see that brown one? She’s Estella.”

“Wasn’t she supposed to be retired?” Drake questions. “There’s no way she can win.” 

“I don’t know, Drake.” Liam stands up straight. “The odds are in her favor.” 

“But she doesn’t have luck on her side, does she?” 

“Sherluck does!” Ella mentions.

“You don’t need luck to win,” Uncle Leo mentions.

Liam looks at his brother distastefully. 

I turn back towards the horses, seeing Estella taking the lead. 

“C’mon, Sherluck!” Drake cries. 

“You might as well give up now, Drake,” Liam suggests. “Estella’s in the lead.”

“Yeah!” Ella cries.

“Shouldn’t put that much hope on an old horse, Your Majesty,” Drake throws back at Liam. 

As Estella passes the finish line, Liam comments, “At least she’s reliable.”

Drake moves back from the railing and starts taking off his suit. “Yeah, yeah, no need to rub it in.” 

While Drake is turned away, Liam whispers, “Ella, come here.”

“Okay,” she loudly whispers back. Liam picks her up and makes her stand on a chair. He turns away from her and silently tells her to get on his back. Through giggles, Ella wraps her arms around Liam’s neck. He walks away from the chair, and she manages to hold on. 

“C’mon, Liam,” Drake says. He’s in an upward plank position with his shirt off. “We don’t have all day. We have to get to the picnic.” 

“Hold your horses, Walker!” Uncle Leo comments.

“I apologize, Drake,” Liam says, moving towards him with Ella still on his back. “Also, I think I’ve gained some weight recently.” 

He sits down on Drake’s back, and I hear Drake grunt. 

Drake begins doing push-ups while Ella and Liam giggle. 

“Nine... ten,” Drake finishes, barely breathing. Liam gets up from his back, and Drake falls onto the floor. Uncle Leo helps him back up, and Drake starts putting on his clothes again, huffing and puffing. Turning towards Liam, he comments, “Putting on extra weight at the last minute, huh?” Drake shakes his head and finishes buttoning his suit. “Someone needs to humble you out.” 

“I know you’d never miss such an opportunity, old friend,” Liam states, helping Ella off of his back. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get outta here. I have to go find Jess. She said she had a call to take and then just walked away.” Drake leads the way out of the tent. Ella and I follow, looking back at Liam, who was standing in front of Uncle Leo.

“Leave if you know what’s good for you,” Liam growls. Ella and I stand outside the tent, but I can hear what they’re saying. 

“Seriously, Liam?” the brother responds. “You think I’d do anything to two innocent kids? Calm the Hell down. We hadn’t seen each other in months before the argument, and I know it was pretty bad, but Regina’s no longer here to ruin anything. We’re the only family the both of us have left. Instead of spoiling it because of my misunderstanding some eleven years ago, can we just be civil? At least in front of Katie, Riley, and the kids.” 

Liam doesn’t talk for so long that I wonder if he’s still in there. After a while he speaks up, “Fine. But if you or your children do anything to my children, understand that I will make sure you never step foot in this country again.” 

“Alright alright, little brother, c’mon,” Uncle Leo says. I hear his voice get louder, and I pull Ella away from the tent so they wouldn’t know I was listening in. “Let’s get to this picnic and not hold everyone up.” 

They emerge, and Uncle Leo’s arm is around Liam, who shrugs it off. Liam puts a hand on each of our shoulders and guides us to the line of cars. We see Mom and Countess Hana about to get in a limo. Mom waves at us and gets in the car. She closes the door, and Ella gives a silent, “Yay, we can go with you!” as Liam guides us to his car. I tumble in after Ella, excited to spend more time with Dad.

[dansnaturepictures]

14th August 2021: Part 1 of 2-Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow make my butterfly year list my second highest ever and more at Old Winchester Hill 

We made a now annual and always anticipated August trip to Old Winchester Hill today to try and spot a Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow part of a big butterfly focused weekend we had planned. Welcomed by the in fruit apple trees and delicious looking rosebay willowherb, with top views of Peacock and a few Red Admiral the latter flying into me nicely at one point around the hut area, we made our way through the gate to the slope. Here we took in the always phenomenal picturesque views over the stunning grassy and very well wooded too hill and across the renowned South Downs seeing as far down as the coast with the Fawley oil refinery visible. In a gentle breeze we needing the sun to come through the clouds a little to try to see the butterflies in mid-morning (me and my Mum came out this morning and Missy stayed at home with her partner and we came out before a football match) it was lovely to watch the day wake up as sun shone on the landscape bit by bit. I took the first, second, sixth, seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset of views throughout the walk. 

We drunk in the vibrant and colourful meadow, seeing a rich array of flowers such as scabious a key flower today as I saw some key species on it as I mention below, marjoram, eyebright as shown in the fourth picture I took today in this photoset, sweet blue harbells as shown in the fifth picture I took, fennel, bird’s-foot trefoil, ragwort, self-heal, hawksbeard, St. John’s-wort, wild basil, yarrow and wild carrot. Then butterflies emerged a lot as we walked down the hill with the sun out more and more. Scores of Chalkhill Blues brought to life the landscape with so many milky blue males and coffee brown females on the wing in the air at once, once more luckily for us this year and exceptional views of them landed. A late Ringlet with an interesting red mite looking thing or it may have been some sort of tag which we saw on a few of the butterflies todday on it and special views of Gatekeeper and Meadow Brown as well as another Red Admiral added to this circus.

Then the moment we had hoped for. I gazed over to a scabious and there sat on it shining out was a bright orange Silver-spotted Skipper. I got my Mum onto it and we watched it for some precious moments, catching either it or another one later on too. We were over the moon to see this one of my favourite butterflies and one of our finest summer species. It was extremely exciting to see it a butterfly in a habitat like this which always gives me a sweet taste of summer like the sweetest of beverages. A sensational species to see and I loved trying for macro pictures of it getting the third in this photoset. As butterfly 43 of my year it pulled me level with how many I saw in 2020. Whilst all of this was going on two enormous Ravens barked loudly overhead which was spectacular to see.

We then made our way towards another blooming patch of meadow and along the base of the hill towards the woods to an area where we saw a Clouded Yellow last year with red bartsia, knapweed, viper’s bugloss and the first yellow wort I recall seeing shown in the ninth picture I took today in this photoset adding to the floral display and the trees looking stunning as bits of sun caressed them in full leaf especially. I felt very uplifted by the beauty of the landscape around something that since the stunning views of Snowdonia from the cottage we stayed in Anglesey in June and around that area I have maybe appreciated and taken in more.

With the assortment of butterflies still in the air we waited in hope of a Clouded Yellow. Then we were thrilled as my Mum spotted one which we got brilliant and prolonged flying views of as it circled the meadow. We also got amazing moments seeing this potato like beacon of yellow sitting still getting such valuable chances to take pictures with it very flighty also quite characteristic of the species I put my big lens to use rarely on a butterfly to reach into the shot quickly rather than have to approach and likely see it fly on before I could snap with my macro lens I tweeted a photo I took of it on Dans_Pictures tonight. It was quite notable them stopping today including on scabious as well as for years it was a butterfly that barely ever stopped for us so it was one to see flying but that’s two years in a row at this site we’ve seen it land which is fantastic. In case we ever needed a comparison as it’s probably the most similar at a glance I saw Clouded Yellow and Brimstone flying at once this afternoon which was nice. It’s just a great feeling too to have had somewhere we’ve seen Clouded Yellow two years running a butterfly it can be hit and miss to see in a year. And with Silver-spotted Skipper only coming back into our life in 2018 when we discovered you could see them here a site known to us before the Old Winchester Hill August visit to try for these two is well established on our butterfly calendar now and I felt so lucky to see them again.

We had done it. Seen the two summer species of our desire and it took my butterfly year list to 44 beating last year and making it my second highest ever butterfly year list with only more seen by me in 2019 now. A quite remarkable and rewarding thing given how much harder we have maybe had to work to see the species this year with all the changeable weather in the peak season. But we made it and as we really look towards the end of the peak season now with the Big Butterfly Count when most species are around over and the Clouded Yellow the last of the species I’ve seen before that I can see this year now left to see I can say it’s yet again been one of the most fantastic and exciting years of butterflies I’ve ever had. I have had so much fun, depended on butterflies for moments of joy so much as I have for birds and other wildlife too and had the pleasure of enjoying some of the greatest wildlife the UK has to offer at some brilliant sites locally, further afield and across the country.

As we walked out of this area we had some fantastic butterfly and bird moments to come. Firstly we were so fortunate to get a view of another Silver-spotted Skipper and it was an honour to see it settle and flap its wings open and shut seeing the bright orange and the immaculate white spots on the underwing alike. Allowing for amazing photos opportunities for both for a species we tend to see with wings closed a lot. Precious intimate moments with an exceptional species. The Clouded Yellow flew by again and so did a Buzzard I’d seen a few minutes earlier soaring over well against the bright sky. I didn’t know where to point my camera between up and down and just loved taking in two of my favourite species of my two main types animals I love birds and butterflies.

It became one of my butterfly days of the year and ever today with just sheer quantity of how many species seen and how many about on the wing in lovely weather and well I saw them. Brown Argus, Small Copper and one of my best views probably the best this year of two precious Small Tortoiseshells gleaming in the sunlight on some sweet marjoram. awaited us too. A splendid natural moment with my original favourite butterfly species. The full wealth of butterflies seen can be found in my wildlife sightings summary below.

Other than more special looks at the host of Chalkhill Blues with lots of males chasing a female and two nicely chasing each other around the walk back to the car park was avian dominated. Firstly a smashing view of two Red Kites now soaring through the sky, one in particular exhilaratingly close overhead. Then I heard a sweet sharp chirp and was delighted to see it was the expected for this place and this annual walk of ours which is often so much about birds too Yellowhammer. One sat prominently in its illuminating yellow coat starkly standing out against one of a few bits of red vegetation in the landscape behind it. A great moment and around this time exotic looking House Martins circled overhead too. A sensational start to Saturday for us. I shall talk about what we did for the rest of the day in my next post. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow of the year, four more of my favourite butterflies the Small Tortoiseshell, Red Admiral, Chalkhill Blue and Brown Argus with all of six among my favourites some of the most of my favourite butterflies I ever saw on one day I think which makes this stand out as a monumental butterfly day for me as it was on this trip last year, two of my favourite birds the Buzzard and Red Kite, Common Blue, Meadow Brown, Gatekeeper, Ringlet, Brimstone, Small White, Painted Lady, Yellowhammer, House Martin, Raven, Woodpigeons well, Chiffchaff well towards the end, Goldfinch, a nice robber fly, bees and an amazing amount of beautiful grasshoppers too.

[ambitiousskychild]

Peacock

“Cardinal,” Stan decides.

“Why?” Bev asks suspiciously.

“It’s the red hair,” Richie chimes in, loud and brash. Stan glares at him, though Bev nods, looking cheated. Her gaze slides back over to Stan.

“It’s not,” Stan starts, “just your hair. It’s the males with all that red, anyway.”

“Then what is it?” Bev presses.

“A lot of things! Like—you’re sociable like cardinals are,” Stan explains excitedly like he does. “They interact with any other kind of bird—they’re friendly, like you. And they’re popular like you. They’re the state bird of a couple of states. And they’re really striking in the winter,” he says, and leaves it there. Richie thinks they all must be thinking about that whole winter fire, January embers thing but don’t want to embarrass Ben.

Bev hums to herself, mulling it over, and after a moment’s deliberation, she nods. “Okay, I’ll take it.”

“Thank you,” Stan rolls his eyes. He picks back up his magazine from the dirt floor and sinks deeper into the beanbag. “Sometimes I know a thing or two.”

“Hey, hang on,” Richie snaps, and nearly topples both he and Eddie out of the hammock trying to sit himself upright. “You’re forgetting something, Staniel,” he tells him, though the longer he looks at Stan’s smug face, he doesn’t think he did.

He’d assigned everyone else a bird, not that he’d necessarily wanted to. Admittedly, they all kind of bugged him into it, Bev pushing the hardest, and Stan had held his ground until Bill got on board, saying it’d be fun to know, and then suddenly, Stan turned full bird encyclopedia.

Ben, Stan said just minutes ago, is a mourning dove because they’re a little timid, but can make a home anywhere. Because they’re brownish-grey like trees or most fences, but still easily identifiable because of little details they can’t really hide, and their woeful cooing is a lot like Ben’s poetry.

Bill’s a blue jay, Stan said, and then wouldn’t really expound upon it, dropping his gaze down to his knees and going a bit red in the face. Richie doesn’t think it’s an astoundingly smart observation on his part, but he sees the way Stan gets himself lost in Bill’s big blue eyes sometimes and thinks maybe that’s that.

Mike is a goldfinch, sunny and golden like living breathing sunshine, he’d said, also red-faced. And Eddie is a hummingbird for obvious tiny, angry, quick-tempered reasons that Eddie very vocally resented.

When pressed, Stan classified himself as a crow. Richie thinks that that’s because he thinks he’s mean, but Richie himself thinks Stan is a crow because he’s so smart. Then, of course, he listed Bev as a cardinal—friendly, and stunning, and fiery. Fine, good, fun, but now apparently, he’s trying to cheat Richie for some reason, and that’s not going to fucking fly.

“So what about me, huh?” Richie presses as Stan stares at him from over the top of his magazine. “Come on, Stan, lay it on me, I’m not gonna be mad,” Richie crows. He folds his arms behind his head and kicks his foot against the ground to sway the hammock, watches the way Eddie scowls at his comic because of it. “I bet I already know what I am, huh? A big ole’ blue tit—”

“Peacock,” Stan deadpans, and he lowers his magazine just to unblinkingly stare at him, and Richie falters, stops kicking his foot for half a second but he catches himself.

“O-ho-ho, Stanley, I promise you nothing about it is pea-sized.”

The clubhouse groans in union.

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie hisses, kicking at him with his sock-clad foot as Richie cackles and grabs him around the ankle. He grabs the other ankle too and makes a show of trying to toss him out of the hammock as Eddie shrieks at him to stop.

“That’s not the reason,” Stan says evenly, knowingly, over the commotion.

“Is it because I’m so pretty?” Richie grins, tickling Eddie behind the knees. Eddie laughs so hard he snorts. Richie keeps doing it.

“It’s because you fucking dress like one,” Eddie grits out through his laughter, kicking at him again, and Richie gets ready to start the entire tickling process all over again, but Stan shoots him a look.

“Did you know that peacocks fake being sexually active?” he asks, drops it like a bombshell and the clubhouse goes quiet. “Yeah, they do their mating call and yell and scream until peahens come check it out and then they try to seduce them all.”

“Oh, shit,” Mike scoffs behind his hand.

Slowly, the rest of them also fall to pieces.

“And you think that sounds like me?” Richie demands, dramatic on purpose. He looks accusingly around at each of his snickering, back-stabbing friends. “Wow. Betrayed by a bunch of virgins.”

“Uh-huh,” Bill smirks. “S-sounds like peacock talk to m-me.”

“You do need attention,” Bev cuts in, “like, constantly.”

Mike nods vigorously. “Sometimes you strut.”

“Oh ha-ha, assholes, I don’t need that much attention,” Richie laughs, though he feels a little flushed beneath his smile, feels just a little too seen. “Who else’s attention do I need anyway but Eddie’s mom’s, huh?” he laughs, catches Eddie’s ankle again as it swings at him.

“Well, you’re half right,” Stan says in his knowing blasé way, and it makes Richie freeze right up.

He knows Eddie feels it. He can’t lift his gaze from his hands as he tries to think of some witty comeback but comes up blank in his terror. He feels like they’re all watching him yank his hand from Eddie’s skin. He risks a glance across the hammock at Eddie who’s already staring back at him with thick, furrowed brows. Richie drops his gaze again, face warming and warming.

“Wait, you guys think my poetry is sad?” Ben demands suddenly.

Richie snaps his attention up to see a subtly smiling Ben. He shoots Richie a small thumbs-up and Richie smiles gratefully back.

“It’s n-not that it’s sad,” Bill starts, already pretentious as he always is when it comes to writing, and Richie sighs out loud when the conversation takes off in that direction, fades into the background.

Then Eddie taps the heel of his foot gently against his shoulder, gives Richie half a second to nearly panic about it as the others get downright loud around them before lightly tapping at his shoulder again.

“Hey,” he says, when Richie finds the courage to drag his eyes up to his face, only to be shocked at how pink it is. “Just so you know, like. For the record and everything. I always liked peacocks,” he admits lowly, eyes jumping all around the room as his cheeks flush redder and redder. “They’re pretty,” he says, and Richie grins. His heart skips a beat.

“Aw,” he coos, heart racing all over again. He almost wants to be embarrassed about it, but he’s an expert in making his own embarrassment Eddie’s problem by now. “What a sweet little hummingbird.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie snaps, but his hand finds Richie’s between them, out of view.

[leguin]

on the magicians, mental illness, and media criticism

CW for extended discussion of suicide, suicidal ideation, hospitalization, and syfy’s the magicians.

(crossposted to dreamwidth for readability)

recently i’ve had a lot of time on my hands, and so obviously i’ve been thinking about a comment i saw a few months ago on a magicians instagram post. the comment, which was left in response to an ongoing debate about the season 4 finale of the magicians (and liked by executive producer of the show chris fisher), argued that mentally ill people shouldn’t watch shows in which bad things happen to mentally ill characters because they might confuse it with real life and be triggered by it. the implication of this comment was that criticism of the show by mentally ill people is not worth listening and responding to because it’s unreasonable - because we have, in some way, confused the show with real life, and taken to heart the events that happened in it too deeply. furthermore, it implies that the solution to this is for mentally ill people to avoid being a part of the audience of the magicians.

this is an interesting argument to make given that quentin, one of the main characters in the show, is canonically depressed - very seriously so, at points. if we assume that the comment’s argument is correct, the question has to be asked: who is quentin for, and who is meant to relate to him, if not mentally ill viewers? of course, we also have to ask if this argument is correct in the first place. the answer is that it clearly isn’t, but it seemed to me to be worth some consideration - after all, i spent two or three days after watching the season 4 finale deeply depressed and barely functional, and that’s a reaction i’m eager to avoid having ever again.

so, some thoughts on the magicians, portrayals of mental illness and suicide in media, and criticism of those portrayals:

while thinking about this, i’ve realized that an awful lot of the media most important to me (e.g. flowers, the fall, please like me, wolf in white van, the goldfinch) involves bad things happening to mentally ill characters - including said characters trying or even succeeding in killing themselves. one of the assumptions that the comment’s argument makes is that all approaches to depicting mental illness are equal. but i’d be remiss if i didn’t note that none of these books, shows, or movies sent me spiraling into a depressive episode when i first encountered them, and that they all remain dear to me. i have rewatched/read and enjoyed all them several times, and often felt gratified to see my experiences with mental illness and suicidal ideation reflected in them. to me, this proves that there are responsible, non-triggering ways to portray these difficult, horrible, isolating experiences. (which is not to say that my experience with any of this is universal, but the fallout from the magicians‘ handling of suicide has been much more widespread and longlasting than i’ve seen with any other media concerning similar topics).

up until the season 4 finale, i counted the magicians as one of those shows i could watch to feel less alone. i was especially grateful to see a depressed character who has a difficult history with hospitalization and medication, something i strongly relate to. quentin is a character who makes it through almost four seasons of television by the skin of his teeth, without ever Solving The Problem of his depression, because on some levels it’s unsolvable, but learning and growing and loving all the same. i watched all of this, and thought it was good, and right, and important.

and then the season finale happened, and the magicians amply and unexpectedly demonstrated that there are also terrible, irresponsible ways to write about mental illness and suicide. the morning after the s4 finale i wrote:

i think i’m so upset because every part of quentin’s struggle with depression has been deeply resonant with my own experiences, up to and including his death, and that is not how i want to feel about someone who kills himself! i would like to see differences. i would like to see noticeable and appreciable differences!

and i keep thinking about that comment. wondering if along the way i did confuse something fictional with real life, if i made the same mistake quentin makes in relying too heavily on stories that let him down and make him try to be things he’s not.

but then i think, yknow, quentin is meant to be a character you see yourself in. the magicians was a show that purposefully appealed to people like q - people like me. he’s the audience surrogate, the depressed everyman, the person whose relationship with fiction is meant to reflect our own. he’s the guy who starts the show in a mental hospital. who in the world was meant to relate to quentin if not the people who have also sat on the other side of a desk from a doctor and told lies to try and get out of a hospital ward?

and the writers must’ve been aware of that. i say that not out of optimism, which i absolutely don’t have when it comes to this show, but because as late as the episode prior to the finale, they acknowledged that quentin was a character who was representative of a kind of relationship with fiction that is somewhat maladaptive, but also sometimes absolutely vital to survival. quentin says, in episode 4x12,

the idea of fillory is what saved my life. this promise that people like me, people like me, can somehow find an escape.

it should go without saying that you don’t make that kind of character kill himself  - or, if you prefer, ‘sacrifice himself in a premeditated act that guaranteed his death, after ensuring he wouldn’t be rescued, and after spending a season with serious ongoing trauma he was unable to process.’ you don’t spin his death into something heroic. and you don’t spend a season afterwards having everyone he cared about talk about how trying to save him would be disrespecting how much his death meant for them, as though his life meant less. as though his life didn’t mean anything to him. it feels really obvious, as i type this, that you shouldn’t do that. and i don’t mean that in a moralizing way - we have studies that suggest portraying suicides like this can lead to a spike in copycat suicides. writers discussing these topics have a very real duty to doing so responsibly, carefully, and preferably in consultation with organizations or people who can provide feedback. to the best of my knowledge, the writers of the magicians did not do this.

i’ve become very aware in the last year that there are right ways and wrong ways to write about these topics. and so i find it hard to buy the argument that i’m still so deeply unhappy about the magicians because i’m someone who can’t be trusted to decide something as simple as what media to engage with. i’m capable of being discerning, and i go out of my way to avoid things i think i can’t handle. the magicians didn’t slip through because i thought it’d be fun to add ‘suicidally depressed’ back onto my resume. it slipped through because it started out telling a story in a way that felt right, and then it took an abrupt, awful turn.

likewise, i find it hard to believe that i should be barred from criticizing the magicians because i was hurt too deeply by it - or that my criticism, my unreasonable, illegitimate criticism, is the reason why the show was canceled. there are people who can reasonably be blamed for how and why the magicians ended, and people who can’t be. something else that should go without saying: the actors and the audience are not in that first category. my recognition that the show’s treatment of quentin’s death is a seriously cautionary tale on a number of levels is not a problem. writing that story in the first place, and continuing to defend it in the face of any and all criticism is.

[nadiaportia]

Life Lessons - A Past Tale

Summary: On a day meant for relaxation, a young magician-in-training finds herself in the middle of an explosive confrontation.

Starring the Rubalacaba family; Ximena, Heloisa, Cibela, Esmé and Marisol

Word count: ~4.6k

Content warning for violence (nothing too graphic) and a messed up family dynamic.

It was a warm midsummer’s day, the sun stood high in the sky and my lessons had been finished an hour earlier. Mistress Julia had congratulated me on my good work and progress and allowed to me go enjoy myself outside for the rest of the day while she was going to the docks. Her wife had been travelling to Karnassos to see her family and they haven’t seen each other for several weeks.

As it was a habit, I decided to go the aviary to relax after my lessons. The grounds were vast, in my own opinion a little too vast, so there were always places to hide but the aviary had something about it - despite the fact that I was barely on my own there. It was also my sister’s Heloisa’s prefered location; she could spend hours in there taking care and marvelling at its residents. When we were both younger, she would teach the goldfinches to sing along to her whistling and proudly showed them to the servants and our father. The aviary was her dominion, especially since our older sister couldn’t be less interested in birds and spent the time she was on the grounds training or studying. 

The aviary was a large cage made of gilded steel with vegetation and a small river flowing through it, in size bigger than the main hall in the manor, where its residents had free reign to live in. Upon entering, I heard giggling and following the path deeper into the small forest, I saw my older sister. She sat on the ground, stroking a golden pheasant on her lap while a hummingbird flew about her face. It was currently holding one of her black curls in its beak as if to pull her up from her comfortable position.

“No, please, Xquic!”, she laughed and stopped stroking the pheasant to gently let the hummingbird sit on her index finger.

“Dorian deserves his caresses too, you know I don’t play favorites.”

She had given every single bird in the aviary a name and treated each of them like individuals. I liked all of them just fine enough but to Heloisa they were as much as her friends like the noble girls she went to parties with in secret. When she saw me, a grin spread across her face. 

“Welcome to freedom! I've been here for two hours now, Livia decided to give it a rest because even she didn't have the spirits to talk for too long about this guy's manifest. I mean, reading about revolting merchants can only be so interesting, especially when you already know they were beaten after the armies of Karnassos and Bizatena came to the Zaan's aid!” 

She sighed dramatically and proceeded to make kissing noises at Xquic. I sat next to my sister. The grass was warm and soft, and Dorian raised his head to look at me. I reached out and caressed the top of his crown. 

“Well, I spent three hours trying to make portals large enough for a human to fit through, but it takes a lot of concentration. When Julia does it, it looks so easy.” 

“Your magic stuff is vastly more interesting than politicking and learning how to lie.”

“I don't get your complaints - Tía Esmé has you on track to leave the junior court meetings and go full game. Cibela attended her first meeting last year.”

My sister's smile turned into a sneer. Even though we all enjoyed the luxury of fundamental education - history, philosophy, various languages such as Bizanti, Zadithian and Prakran, literature, art, music, the sciences and common etiquette proper for a noble of Cartagenth - each of us was also given tutelage in a special field in order to prepare us for our future at the Zaan's court. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”, she said and shrugged, “and still, making portals, lifting objects and talking with spirits is pretty wicked and exciting.” I sighed. It didn't matter if she was the best junior politician and won several play-debates against seasoned courtiers during dinners, she would always want the talents others possessed. But I wasn't in the spirits to argue with her, not today. 

“Magic is a lot more complicated than you think, and from what Tía Esme says it might take even years before I am as good as Julia - and I don't wanna be just good enough to become a tutor.”

“By the mother, imagine that! No, you will be the greatest magician of all times, they will build statues for and tell stories of you, not only here but everywhere! Crystalleans in the North, bandits in the South, Firenti in the East and Calpacians all over will know the name Ximena de Rubalcaba!” 

I laughed and shook my head.

“If you say so, it will be true one day.”

“Of course it will.” Heloisa reassured me and gently shooed her avian companions away from us. “I talked to Tía Esmé a couple of days ago, according to her it could very well be that I were to start my travels very soon. If you asked me nicely and with a bow on top, I could consider namedropping you to the rulers of far away and powerful countries…”

“How's that going to go down? 'Oh, Queen of Prakra, say, if you happen to be looking for a magician, I might just know the right person - my fifteen year old sister!'”

“No, of course not, you idiot. One of the essences of politics is: less is often more.”

“Ah, yes, less was definitely more on the party thrown by the son of the Karnasso ambassador. Or when Shayera, Filomena and you went to a 'health resort'. Or-” 

“Okay, I get it. Phew, it's not my fault you are boring and never want to join in on the fun.” 

“Whatever. At least I won't die of boredom in cabinet rooms or in court sessions when I'm a grown-up.” 

Heloisa scoffed loudly and stood up. “Fine! And you'll never be a capable magician, in the meantime I'll be dining with the influential sovereigns of the world. Who knows, maybe I'll become the next Zaan before you manage to cast a portal!”

I looked lazily at her, how she stood over me, her hands on her hips, the sun behind her head and casting dark curly hair into a warm light. 

“Hm.” I closed my eyes and smiled as I heard her walk off and out of the aviary, fuming while murmering curses under her breath.

And yet she was also my best friend even though we were nothing alike. The nightly carousing my sister loved so much was nothing I could ever be interested in, apart from the fact that she was four years older and thus allowed to do it, but rule-breaking and rebellion without a cause in general never had the same appeal to me. It wasn't as if I hated being in company but it wasn't something I craved like a moth needed the lantern's light, and I certainly didn't have the same social charisma as her, with a face known and beloved by all and the ability to make everyone feel special in her company. I liked being on my own, listening to my own thoughts or doing things on my own such as reading, practicing on Cibela's piano whenever she wasn't on the estate (her visits were becoming rarer anyway), stealing into the kitchen to watch the servants prepare our food (the first time I had done that, they thought Madre had send me to make sure they did a good job), making sketches of the paintings in the galleries and many other things lonely noble children seemed to do, as I had been told by my cousin Agustín. The only son of Tía Esmé was a diplomat on track to becoming an ambassador and during his visits, he would stay on the family estate. Despite him and Cibela being the closest in age, they were like cats and dogs to each other, with him having thrown around the words “cruel” and “heartless” while Cibela had complained to Madre about him being a pathetic excuse of a politician and even a traitor to Cartagenth. So he spent most of his visits with Heloisa and me, even though he always told me I was his favorite - and judging by the sharp remarks he made about Heloisa, even to her own face, there was no doubt it was true. It was a nice feeling to be someone’s preferred company even though I felt as if favoritism seemed to be a family tradition, and not a good one. 

I sighed, opened my eyes again and was immediately almost blinded by the sun. The goldfinches were singing somewhere in the trees and something was chirping softly in the scrubs. A thought crept into my mind and I grinned. I sat up, leaned towards the bush and let out a whistle. It rustled and a black manakin made its way to me. 

“Hello, you cutie.” I said, and wiggled my finger at it. “Wanna help me in an experiment?”

I hoped this would work. We would throw marbles throw the portals to see whether they fulfilled their purpose but never tried it with a living organism, so if it didn't work…

The manakin tilted his head and looked at me. I sighed. 

“Right, you don't understand human speech.” I reached out and softly stroked his chest. “But you're not flying away, so I'll take that as a yes.” He nibbled at my finger. “I'll collect some worms for you, I don't have a problem with digging in the ground unlike someone else.”

A chirp, whether he actually understood a word was another matter.

I closed my eyes and let out a breath. I tuned out the noises all around me and concentrated on the manakin, where it was and on creating a gateway to bring it to another location - not very far, just a few meters away from me. A noise that wasn't quite a noise caught my attention and upon opening my eyes, I saw the bird looking curiously at a small doorway, big enough for him to comfortably fit through, and another one near a tree trunk.

“That's for you. Please…?” 

The manakin looked at me as if he himself was unsure of this.

“Go ahead, nothing will happen.” I said with hopefully enough conviction in my voice. 

It seemed to have hit the mark because he jumped through it - and reappeared a few meters away from me. 

“Yes!”, I screamed and pumped a fist in the air and startling the manakin who jumped about a foot in the air.

Time flew by as I made portals, some bigger than others, for my new friend to walk or fly through, and he strangely seemed to find as much joy as this as me. 

I was in the middle of making another one when I heard footsteps. To my surprise, it was Heloisa, with her face dark like a beetroot and her mouth twisted into a snarl.

“What happened?” I asked worried, hurrying over to her but instead of an answer she pushed me away. Her eyes were rimmed red and there was a glint of fire in copper brown that made me take a step back. 

“What do you think you're going to do with this?”

“Get out of my way!”, was the snappy answer I received as she made her way over to a tree, reached into a hole in the trunk and pulled something out. A shining steel blade, one that I was sure I had seen many many times.

“By the Devil, is that one of the Nopali swords in the ancestral gallery?” I blurted out and followed Heloisa as she stomped out of the aviary. When I got no verbal response, I grabbed her arm and made her face me. 

Her lips switched and she scrunched her nose. 

“You'll see soon enough what I'll do to her.” Wrenching loose of my grip, she whirled around and continued her way, and it hit me like a falling anvil to know where she was going. The aviary wasn't far from the estate building itself so it didn't take too long before we reached the first inner court which also functioned as training grounds for the guards. In the center, on the sand ground, a young woman in light armor with one arm on her back and the other wielding a blunt training sword was parrying the blow of a figure also clad in light armor and with a double-handed sword. She dodged the next blow, made a sidestep and used the momentum to hit her opponent in the side with the swords pommel. The opponent clutched their side and wheeled around to meet her blow, metal hitting metal in an ugly noise.

“Hey! Cibela!” Neither of the figures acknowledged us but merely continued their melee.

“Don't tell me you want do what I think you want to do.” I sighed and held Heloisa's arm. 

“Don't tell me what to do,”, she hissed and shoved me away, “and don't even dare to tell Mother. Cibela!”

“Don't be stupid and put down the sword, please! You'll hurt each other.”

Fury was written all over her face when she said: “That's exactly what I want to do. I've had enough of her thinking she is better than me just for being allowed to train as a warrior!”

“Then challenge her to chess or something, not a swordfight.”

Heloisa let out a mocking laugh. “Of course you'd say that, words befitting of a cowardly magician.” My cheeks stung at her words as if I had been slapped in the face. “You wouldn't understand. You don't have any fighting spirit, so all you are good for is rolling over and playing dead.”

“I just know that fighting battles I can't win doesn't do any good.”

The noise of a body hitting the floor brought our attention back to the fighters and we saw how the woman took the hand of her opponent to be helped off the ground. Dark curls had escaped her braid during the fight and made her look distinctively messy, beads of sweat glittered on her forehead and her neck and face were flushed. 

“May the Devil damn you, stop distracting me!”, she yelled at us and pushed the loose strands of her out of her face. Dark eyes fixated us angrily and Heloisa laughed yet again. 

“Oh, is it that easy? I'm starting to believe you are not good a fighter as you make everyone believe. How do you even survive on those battlefields you claim you're so successful on?”

Cibela's face flushed even darker than it did from the exhaustion and she let out an angry snarl. “A mercenary is easy work compared to you, sister. Now go away, be a nuisance elsewhere.”

“No, I won't!” Heloisa screamed and held out the sword in front of her. The swordsman dropped their sword in shock and made a motion to walk over to us.

“Stay your hand, Octavio, or I'll have you fired and sent to live with the rats in the gutter.”

“Lady Heloisa, please calm down. The sword you're holding is sharp.”

Cibela let out a laugh. “Of course it is. Stop this nonsense before you hurt yourself, you're not worth a fight.”

I couldn't stop her from stomping at Cibela and I threw myself between the two of them, holding my hands out. “Will you two stop provoking each other?” I knew better than to ask what exactly caused this dispute to begin; I wouldn't get an answer anyway. Heloisa and Cibela constantly butted heads over even the smallest issues, and it wasn't helped by the fact that they were both too eager to find reasons to get into arguments. 

Cibela's lip curled in a sneer. “Even Ximena is more of a realist than you. She knows I'd gut you like a fish if this were an actual fight. You are no fighter; all you can do is talk a lot and charm people into doing what you want them to - and that is something everyone can do, it takes no real talent. You're just as stupid and useless as those birds you love so much - pretty to look at and have around with their feathers and songs but shallow and of no use whatsoever.”

Heloisa roared in anger, lifted the sword and ran at our sister. I jumped out of the way, and saw in shock how Cibela easily dodged the blow and took a few steps back.

“I won't fight you, you don't even know how to! It's a waste of my time and an easy kill.”

Frantically I turned to Octavio. “Get whoever, otherwise they'll kill each other for real!”, I yelled and as Cibela's coach ran off, I stood up and thought about what to do. Damn me for not knowing how to make protective shields! 

“Get a real sword and let's find out, and do you think me so stupid to fight you without knowing how to?”

“Yes, I do.”

The next hit on the tourney sword left a dent in it, and Heloisa let out a triumphant laugh. “Don't bother with holding back, or is that all you can do? I have long suspected all you did on those battlefields was have others do your dirty work, seems I was right after all!”

A kick to the stomach silenced Heloisa and sent her tumbling back. Cibela scoffed and walked back to the assembly of swords to train with and took out a silver shortsword. “Yield now, sister. Scars don't suit you and we'd never hear the end of it.”

“I have been watching you train with Octavio and the others, do you really think I never learned even a bit? Or that I might have had someone who helped me from time to time?” The grin slipped from her face as Cibela approached her with sure steps, sword in hands and swung at her. Heloisa ducked and scrambled away from our sister's reach, who looked merely amused. “I think you're in way over your head. But I will give you a lesson you will not forget ever, that you may know your place and to stay in it.”

A quick movement and Cibela took off, sword pulled back to strike at Heloisa, who stood her ground with a determined look on her face. But the impact of Cibela, who was at least a head taller and had a more muscular frame, was enough to send her on her back onto the ground. “Your battles are in court and with words, not blades.”

I screamed in terror as Cibela threw back her arm, to swing it at Heloisa's face-

I acted on instinct, for fear for my sister's life. Light bubbled in my hands and I aimed it at the two. Cibela groaned at the blinding light and covered her face as she stumbled back as Heloisa gave a hard kick at her ankle and rolled out from under her.

“You're a true magician, Ximena,”, Cibela spat at me, her face scrunched up in anger as she stood up, “too much of a coward to get involved directly but always ready to help with dirty tricks. You two are a disgrace to our family name.” Then she spun around to catch Heloisa's wrist, I hadn't even noticed her getting up again and trying to hit Cibela in the back with the pommel. 

“Especially you.”

Her grip was so hard that it made Heloisa scream in pain, she dropped the sword and let it fall into the dust between them. Cibela let her fall back, and as if through fog I saw the blade in her other hand find its way onto Heloisa's torso, connecting with it at the shoulder blade and making its way to the hipbone. Someone's shrill scream rang in my ears and only when I covered my mouth I realized it had been me. But I couldn't move, I was rooted to the spot as I watched my sisters, one standing with the tip of her blade bloodied over the other, lying on the group, gasping like a fish out of water.

Someone else's scream brought me back to reality and I spun around to see our mother and our aunt make their way to us, Octavio hot on their heels. 

“Oh my goodness!” Madre threw her hands to her face as she saw Heloisa in the dust. Her flowing purple gown fluttered behind her as she ran to them, while Tía Esmé approached me and grabbed me by the shoulders with urgency. “Marilena, what happened? Be quick about it.”

I stumbled upon my words various times and only when she dabbed my face with her cape, I noticed tears were streaming down my face. “He-Heloisa challenged Cibela to a-a fight. I didn't think they'd ac-actually-”

“What's done is done. With me, now.” Her hand wrapped around my wrist like a vice as she pulled me along. “Julia taught you the basics of healing, now's time to make use of them.” 

I gaped at Tía Esmé but the steely look in her eyes made me swallow my doubts. 

“Are you happy now? Isn't that what you wanted?” Cibela's voice was cold as ice, no hint of regret upon what she did. 

“Cibela, what have you done?” Mother cried as she cradled Heloisa, tears were freely running down her face and leaving dark traces of her make-up. My sister was looking at the cut in her chest as if she couldn't believe what just happened. The blood was beginning to stain the burgundy fabric black as it seeped out. She raised a hand to touch it and screamed at the sight of her own blood on it.

“I gave my dearly beloved sister what she was so desperately chasing; someone who would put her back in her place and teach her some respect.”

I stared at Cibela and felt my throat tighten at the venom in her words. For a brief moment, nothing more than a split second, I considered picking up the sword on the ground and hitting her with it, but the thought of it frightened me as soon as I finished it. 

The vice around my wrist disappeared and Tía Esmé closed in on Cibela, who held up her chin in defiance. “Did you stop to think about turning down the duel and reason with her without spitting poison? Is this how an officer of the Grand Army of Cartagenth behaves, or this is more akin to a lawless bandit?”

Cibela took a step forward, her face mere inches away from Tía Esmé. “She was the one who insisted on a duel, she can be lucky I decided to show mercy even if I was in the full right to kill her and I wouldn't have shed a tear if I had done so.”

The silence behind that statement lasted both nothing and an eternity, and the ensuing sound of the back of Esmé's hand hitting Cibela's face full force seemed deafening. Mother screamed and instantly let go of Heloisa to help her eldest of the dust, leaving me to catch her before she hit the ground.

“You ungrateful little parasite.” Esmé sneered as Cibela held the side of her face where she had been hit, “have you learnt nothing? Family is the only thing that matters. Without us, you’re a fucking nobody. Get out of my sight.”

Cibela scrambled onto her feet, a trail of blood running down her nose and furious tears building in her eyes. Without a further word she whirled around and left the training grounds, with Madre running after her and saying words made unintelligible by her sobs.

“Octavio, get a doctor. Have them bring something for transport.” The coach bowed quickly with a murmured “Yes, General.” and ran back into the building.

I took a deep breath as I laid my hands on Heloisa's chest. She let out a scream and squeezed her eyes shut. Esmé knelt next to us and regarded the wound with an expert's eye.

“Try to keep her from bleeding out, from what I see the wound is not deep enough to make lethal damage but you can never know. I've seen soldiers bleed to death from a lot less and survive a lot worse.”

She reached out and took Heloisa's hand, gently stroking the back of it with her thumb. “Stay awake, it'll all be alright.”

…

It would be alright, but it ended up taking two whole months. Two months that Heloisa spent in bed, taking medicine that would hurry up the healing process and barely being able to move without experiencing pain. That did not prevent her tutors from giving her stuff to read and it drove her mad with anger, along with the fact that this prohibited her from leaving with the junior council to places such as Vesuvia and Firent. I was the one keeping her company most of the evenings, occasionally Madre or Padre would join but more often than not instead of them it was Tía Esmé if she happened to be on the grounds and not in the city or at court giving war council. Cibela had left the estate grounds days after the incident to lead a division of Cartagense soldiers to the Sea of Persephia, which had to be a journey of approximately two months. After a long discussion between Tía Esmé and Madre on which I had eavesdropped, they decided it was best to send Cibela away for at least a while for the bad blood to die down, and the troops desperately needed support on the front.

“Against who is the Grand Army fighting now?” I asked Tía Esmé one evening during dinner.

“The Bizanti are on the verge of starting a trade war after being threatened by a small, way too insignificant city state and it is our duty to stand by our allies and aid them in crushing the enemy.” Her gaze turned cool as she spoke. “You make it sound as if you think we are always at war with others.”

“Aren't we? You're always holding war councils with the Zaan and his courtiers.”

“Ximena!” Madre put down her fork and looked at me. “Don't speak like this to your aunt, especially not at the table.” But Tía Esmé merely raised her hand. “I don't mind, Marisol. And I don't blame you, dearest, after all you are still only a child whereas your sisters understand the way things work. We have the right to defend ourselves from our enemies at all costs.”

“I know, but does it have to be that way? Agustín surely could solve this, isn’t that what diplomats are for?” Aunt Esmé regarded me with a raised eyebrow, Madre laughed quietly and soon everyone turned their attention back to the food. Even Heloisa seemed to agree with them when I told her what happened at dinner.

“You should be glad we have people like Tía Esmé. If generals like her hadn't been so successful, Cartagenth would’ve already been conquered by someone and instead of the Zaan, some foreign ruler would call the shots.”

I sighed. “Maybe you're right. But not everything needs to end in bloodshed.” You out of all people should know that, I thought bitterly and sat down in an armchair. 

“Some people simply don't know better,”, Heloisa sighed, like always lacking self-awareness, and turned her attention back to her book. I looked at her, my tongue barely holding back a sharp remark, and grabbed the card deck. With Julia not teaching me divination beyond the basics, it was the only area I had to work on myself. The books in the library were helpful but it was mostly a matter of practice, as I found out. A lot of practice and listening. I shuffled the deck and pulled out a card. Justice, reversed. Unfairness and lies. How very fitting.

[bettsfic]

You seem to have really enjoyed 1917, what is it that makes this movie so exceptional? I've read many a WWI novel and though I thought the movie enjoyable, well made, and a technical feat, its story seemed fairly typical, it draws on a narrative of disillusionment established (amongst others) by the war poets and the British war book boom of the 1930s and it bears many of its more distinctive features. However I've hardly seen any war movies. 1/2

So I wondered if you could explain what elevates this movie above the rest of the crop. Or what it was that made it stand out to you on a more personal level. Thank you!!! 2/2

oh my goodness anon, i would love to know more about the britsh war book boom of the 1930s and basically everything you just said. it seems that you have far greater insight into this genre than i do and if you have any recommendations or thoughts i would gladly hear them. i hope one day to do an independent study in war literature, either formally if i pursue the phd where i got accepted, or informally just for fun. 

so lacking that historical/literary context, and being new to war narratives generally, it was all very fresh to me. i think it’s only been recently that i’ve had the stomach for war stories and that’s in large part due to fanfiction. fanfic has given me an interest in the pairing of atrocity and tenderness, which i think is a prevalent motif in (what i’ve seen so far) of great war narratives. war seems like an exceptional device to reveal character in the same way sex is. being an asexual person, and someone who has never participated in war, you’d think these things would have no interest to me, but as a writer i enjoy anything that exposes the roots of people. sex and death (or more plainly, desire and fear?) make the best character studies.

what i appreciated about 1917 was the effectiveness of all skills working in unison. there was no one person or trait about the film that stood out above others. take the goldfinch, whose screenwriter ruined a good story by trying to be clever and taking it out of order (i elaborate more on how that ruined the film here). take the revenant, which was similarly ambitious in direction and imo, distracted from the story. tarantino, wes anderson, christopher nolan -- all directors who are so eager to be known that they sacrifice good stories for style. (with the exception of dunkirk for nolan, another war movie i like a lot and which is similarly structurally ambitious to 1917 in a way that isn’t flashy.)

the direction, cinematography, acting, production design, and editing come together in 1917 in such a balanced and subtle way. i went into it not knowing about the “one long take” approach and i was afraid to blink in case i missed a cutaway. about five minutes in i thought “where is the cut, why aren’t they cutting” and ohh what a delightful realization that was, that i was seeing a technique i had never seen before. i thought it would be like outlaw king or the player, an opening long take and the rest would be normal, but no. the whole film followed, moment by moment, a character with a mission, which provided such an urgency and intimacy that normally editing doesn’t provide. the production design just blew my mind. the first 20 minutes alone had to have covered at least a mile. i read somewhere that each take was about 8 minutes long. 8 minutes!! in a war movie!! i can’t even imagine the amount of work that went into it.

and george mckay. i just. every year, there’s usually a performance or two that is completely looked over by the academy for some reason (margot robbie in i, tonya. andy serkis in planet of the apes. so so so many others). george mckay is this year’s and i am just furious on his behalf. performance, for me, is all about physical presence. as in, does this actor compel me to keep looking at them above everything else happening in a shot? and i just couldn’t look away from him, not for a second. he was just exceptional. 

(sidebar: i’d only seen him as hamlet in ophelia, so i took the movie to be hamlet/horatio fanfiction, which tripled my enjoyment of it)

so, while i can agree that the plot is somewhat simple -- and to your point, perhaps redundant to existing narratives? potentially even cliche? -- i think its structure lent a new look and offered enough of a spin to make it compelling. moreover, the war movies of my childhood haven’t necessarily aged well, and i think this one offered a more sensitive light to the genre than we’ve seen in a while. it was co-written by a woman (krysty wilson-cairns), which i think is important to note, and has no interest in glorifying or romanticizing battle, or even uplifting the idea of heroism. 

there’s the part where schofield admits he gave away his medal, and i thought surely they’d come back to that and he’ll see the value in having medals and it’ll be growth.gif for him. i didn’t want that, of course, but i expected it. and i loved that it never happened. i think the point, especially reinforced by the final shot, was that he didn’t grow or change at all. it was just a thing he had to do, and he shouldn’t have had to do it. he should be at home with his family. war should not exist. period. i liked that a lot.

(and i couldn’t help but think of all the comments i’ve received on bucky barnes has his shit together in which well-meaning readers say something to the effect of, “i hope he gets his purple heart back!!” but i never wanted that for bucky. he gave it away because it didn’t mean anything to him, and he didn’t want to covet the things that almost destroyed him. but i digress.)

i think if i had gone into it with your knowledge, anon, i would probably think the same thing as you did. but i went into it only having seen lawrence of arabia and wings in terms of wwi movies, and so i was very pleasantly surprised, particularly the tightly wrought craft of it, and the structural/technical ambition it took to make. and it managed all of that while still containing a story with a beating heart, that didn’t rely on sentiment or pity to evoke emotion from me. it’s a tender and meaningful film well-told.

[manlethotline]

Theo and Boris are having Christmas Eve dinner.  It’s their first holiday being a- whatever it is they are now, and neither of them knows exactly how to approach it.  Hobie’s ornate Christmas tree seems too formal, and Boris’ traditional drunken bacchanal with his gang seems too rowdy.  Instead they settle for a quiet evening in, Chinese food at the still undecorated apartment Boris is renting now that he has a real reason to visit New York.

It feels oddly reminiscent of Vegas- just the two of them, cheap Christmas lights taped to the walls, the hum of the TV in the other room, and Boris’s boots discarded by the door.  Only this time there’s food on the table, this time they’re just a call away from Hobie and Gyuri and as many loving embraces as they can give.  This time they’re safe.

“Chinese food on Christmas,” Boris says.  “Bobo would be proud.”

Theo laughs- he laughs at everything Boris says lately, making up for years of emotion swallowed and buried.  Laughing and weeping and talking, actually talking, shattering the silence he hadn’t known had been killing him.  It’s tiring, all this feeling.  More tiring than he ever could have believed.  But nights are always easier with Boris beside him, even if he does spend half the time checking text messages.

Tonight though, tonight is just for them.  Whatever they are now.  Blood brother isn’t right, though they are bonded in blood, but lover catches in Theo’s throat.  Old habits die hard, and he still finds Kitsey’s forgotten socks in his drawers sometimes.  But at night, looking at the way Boris’ hair curls across the pillows, and the way the moonlight catches his nose- crooked in a way you would never notice unless you studied his face as devotionally as Theo does- and the way his eyebrows wrinkle and dart at messy dreams, Theo can just see something over the horizon.  He’s getting there.  A few more therapy sessions, a few less drinks, and he can see himself arm in arm with Boris at one of Hobie’s little parties, discreet gold wedding bands on their fingers.  Holding hands in Central Park like they had never been afraid.

But that will be then, and for now Theo is content to work on falling in love all over again with Polish nursery rhymes and too-strong coffee.

Boris smiles at him from across the table.

“I know you said wait.  But I got you a present for Christmas Eve.”

Theo protests with a smile- they’d agreed to leave the presents at Hobie’s, open everything on Christmas Day with Popchyk and Pippa and lots of silly smiles.  Tonight, they’d agreed, was just going to be them together, nothing flashy, just a few Christmas specials and hot chocolate and Theo’s head in Boris’ lap.  Of course, Theo has broken his promise too- there is a carefully wrapped dvd of S.O.S. Iceberg hidden behind the TV that he plans to pull out with a smile later that evening- oh no this one must not have made it to Hobie’s, oh well might as well open it here- but still he plays the part Boris is clearly hoping he will.

“No, not ‘til tomorrow- Popchyk will be disappointed if he misses anything!”  Boris waves his hands in one of his almost apologetic shrugs.

“Well, this seemed a little- ah, personal, to give in front of everyone.”

Theo cocks an eyebrow, and with a nervous grin Boris reaches under his chair and pulls out a ribbon wrapped tube of paper.

“Here, just see for yourself.”

As Theo picks at the ribbon- Boris isn’t so good at the delicate bows, and overcompensates by double knotting- Boris stares, almost nervous.  There is still something within him, a remnant of the boy who wept by Theo’s pool, begging Xandra to let him in, that is always afraid he will somehow tear down the world he has built for himself with one misplaced word.  Sometimes, when he watches Theo doing the ritual of wiping his glasses, studying the way his nose scrunches at the smudges, everything burbles in a hot mass of joy and dread.  As many times as Theo tells him he is not a thief, it is still hard to believe.

Theo has gotten the ribbon off, and stares at Boris, who is biting his lip and watching with brows furrowed at the way Theo’s fingers hover over the paper.

I am, Theo thinks to himself, opening a Christmas present from my boyfriend.  He pulls the rolled up poster flat, and doesn’t know what to say.

It is, of course, not even a shadow of the real thing.  The image quality isn’t particularly good, a little pixelated at the edges, and it doesn’t catch the light or reflect itself in feather-light brushstrokes.  But even flattened and drained, it is still so familiar it catches Theo’s heart and twists it viciously.

His Goldfinch.

He lower the poster so that he can see Boris’ eyes and sees he is grinning.

“Did you get this made custom?”

“No, no- a museum in Amsterdam was selling them in the gift shop.  Celebration for it’s return, you know?  I thought it- I don’t know, I thought it was funny.  For the kitchen, maybe?”

The golden throat, the beady eye, and the gossamer thin chain around its ankle.  It all seems so sacrilegious, printed on cheap cardstock.  The museum’s logo is in the corner, and for a moment Theo feels something that is almost jealousy.  That the thing he agonized over, wept and treasured, the thing that was his and only his so profoundly it was practically a part of him, was now being mass produced and distributed to who- tourists?  He can’t stop staring, eyes tracing familiar patterns across wings and delicate feet.

“Well?  Is it a bad gift?  Am I cruel to make fun of you like this?” Boris asks, and even though he is laughing, Theo hears the quaver of real insecurity in his words.  He forgets sometimes that Boris- perfect Boris, confident and jovial and worldly, is as terrified as he is.  As unfamiliar and fumbling with pet names and coffee dates and saying ‘I love you’ at the end of phone calls.

He looks at Boris again, at his narrow eyes and teeth too big for his mouth and the single black curl winding over his cheekbone, and for a moment the entire world is transparent.  The Goldfinch poster will hang in the kitchen, and the edges will start to curl as Boris constantly fills the kitchen with smoke insisting he can cook.  How Hobie will insist on contributing to the apartment’s decor and it will suddenly be filled with embroidered pillows and antique books.  The postcards Boris sends from all over the world taped up at the posters edges, though the sometimes utterly incomprehensible notes that Boris writes him on legal pads and hotel stationary are always stashed in Theo’s drawer.  Pictures from the first- second really- time Boris convinces Theo to come on a trip with him and they spend three weeks gallivanting in Italy like every other tourist, Boris kissing Theo’s sunburned neck and Theo dragging him along to museums and historic sites.  The puppy photos of their new dog- Popchyk Two, Boris calls him, though Theo always flicks his arm- that’s morbid dear, his name is Myshkin.  That even though the nightmares will never really stop, neither does Boris tossing an arm over Theo’s waist and pressing his forehead to his shoulder, and when that doesn’t work he flicks on the bedside lamp and reads aloud his foreign language books until Theo at last eases himself back into sleep.  Pippa gives them a rainbow flag for their anniversary and they actually hang it out the window and nothing bad happens and they wear each other’s shirts so often they stop differentiating between them and they all smell like the same mix of shampoo and wood varnish and things grow warmer and smaller and while there will always be years they both lost to sadness and hurt there are so many more that they give to each other with smiles and whispers and promises.  And even though it is a poor quality picture and will only get worse in the flickering light and inevitable water damage, the beauty of things comes not from within themselves,but from the love they are given, and Theo will love Boris and Boris will love Theo so much that everything near them will radiate with it.

“You like it then?” Boris asks, tapping a chopstick against the side of his plate.

“Yes.  I love it.”

And he does.

[binoculares]

🦋 Favorites of June.🦋  

🦋Favorite Book. This month I only read one book, but it was The Secret History by Donna Tartt, a book I've wanted to read for a while. Sadly, it didn’t became a favorite like I was hoping for. “Dark Academia” isn’t really my thing. Still, it was entertaining at times and I’m definitely going to pick The Goldfinch in the near future. 

🦋Favorite Film. “Enamorada”, directed by Emilio Fernandez. I think this year I have been doing a little extra effort to support mexican artists and brands and movies, and to know more of our culture. This movie was... Gorgeous. It looks extremely well for a 1946 movie, and there are some shots in here that took my breath away. It’s considered a gem from the golden age of mexican cinema, and I can definetely understand why. The acting, the themes, the “simple story” that really mean bigger things. Ugh I just love it. And that speach by El General José Juan Reyes, about the rich class being “neutral” in times of war, and them profiting out of it, and how that disgust him!!! Iconic. It handles class and privilege in a way that always feels relevant. 

🦋Favorite TV show. I didn’t watch a lot of series this month, but The Midnight Gospel man... Wow. I don’t even know what to say about it. It’s an experience. It broke my heart and healed it at the same time. It’s beautiful. 

🦋Favorite Music. Oh, I had to teak a deep breath for this one. Music was MY thing this month. I discovered this band, called “Señor Kino”, thanks to a meme in facebook calling them like mexican skins or something like that lmaooo. And in that instant I was drawn by their vibe. Like, I knew I was going to like them and I was going to like their music, but I wasn’t prepared for it. It’s everything I love. Their music, their videos, they have become one of my favorite bands ever and I can’t wait to be able to see them in concert. The first song and music video I saw of them was “Estrella Fugaz”. My favorite song is probably “Mis lagrimas”, but I seem to get obsessed with a song of theirs for days and then with another one and then another one and I put them in repeat for hours. My favorite video has to be “Portal de Colores” I love the ending. The powerful and passionate way the band is playing, and how Karl seems so moved and raw while performing. (I love “Elesdí” for the storyline, but the final shot of Karl in “Portal de Colores” gets me everytime. The first time I saw that I got goosebumps and my jaw dropped. Powerful shit).

🦋Favorite Moment. So, after three months of quarantine, I finally saw my friends. I had my cubrebocas and antibacterial gel with me, and I felt a little weird and nervous to go out in the world, even if it was just to my friend’s house, but I still had fun. They are sisters so I just went to her house, they also got a pool there and I was so extremely happy. Like, we didn’t even had beer. We just made some food and had a good ass time and we laughed a lot. I got a litte high, and I swam, and played Uno with my friend and her boyfriend and everything was so pleasant. I love it, I love making memories with my friends, and I love life sometimes. 

[flowrxchild]

I was tagged by the sweet @moonchildwildheart thanks lovey! I love these kinds of tags they’re so much fun!! ❤️

What was the last thing you read?

My study notes for an essay T-T

Favourite movie?

Moonrise Kingdom!

Favourite book?

It’s been the Goldfinch for a long time but as of recently I’ve fallen in love with Jenny Slate’s Little Weirds

Dream date?

Ouu like a picnic or stargazing of something like that. Laying face down in the mud under a full moon could be romantic if you rlly think about it.

Do you have a crush?

I don’t think there’s been a moment of my waking life that I havnt...

What are your hobbies?

I love to paint! I used do a lot of art but life’s kept me really busy as of recently and I don’t get to do it as much as I’d like :(

What’s your favourite time of day?

Late afternoon/golden hour! Ik it’s corny but it’s so pretty how could you not be in love???

If you could look like anything, what would you look like?

The Celestial Seasonings Sleetime Tea bear. That’s literally all I want for myself.

Are you romantic?

*leans dramatically on a staircase clutching my forehead* yes.

What’s your favourite type of weather?

Warm and lightly breezy. The opposite of whatever hell it is now in Canada...

What do you like talking about?

Movies and music always. I’m obviously a dork about it.

What are your turn ons?

Attentive affection like when someone touches you when they talk to you or eye contact I’m like 👁👄👁

Turn offs?

Rudeness. If someone’s mean or pushy yuck

If you got a tattoo what would it be and where would you get it?

I have a lot of stick and pokes everywhere that are super random lol but if I had to get an official one it’d probably be something floral on my arm?? I’m too indecisive to be a tattoo person :/

Do you have any pets?

I have a stinker of a black cat named Odin and he’s the loveliest boy to ever be

Dream job?

Something in the film industry...still to be determined

Dream place to live?

In the country? I’ve lived in a big city all my life and I’ve always wanted to be somewhere quieter and more serene

Dream vacation?

I don’t really know tbh...I love traveling anywhere so any trip would be a dream!

Do you have any piercings?

My ears and my cartilage. Used to have my septum but rip to her :(

If you had kids, what would you name them?

I really don’t know I always feel like the only person who doesn’t have a list I think...

What are your best traits?

My sense of humour has gotten me through a lot...Something bad will happen and I am forced to laugh in its face. Call it what it is: big goblin energy...Also I cherish my artistic eye aahasksk

Worst traits?

I’m a horribly distracted person lmao which makes me maybe the worlds worst reciever of information... I’ve been called flightly and disinterested because of it :( im also super anxious and i let it get the best of me sometimes...

What’s your worst fear?

Losing the people I love. Not being able to experience certain things.

What do you want to eat right now?

Im always craving brownies. I could eat a brownie rn I would not complain.

What’s your best vacation you’ve ever been on?

I’ve not traveled a ton but I went to London when I was 16 and I loved every minute of it!

Favourite city?

Gotta be biased and say my home Toronto! Even though I complain about it a lot, it’s raised me well!

Favourite social media platform?

Tumblr and twitter for sure! They’re kind of addictive

Favourite article of clothing?

Right now, it’s my black turtleneck. Gotta love a classic turtleneck ammirite?

Do you play any sports?

Bold of you to assume my bones are able to carry my akward ass in any other form besides walking. When I was a kid my parents forced me to play soccer and I literally used to lay in the field and pretend I was too sick to stand. Like during the game. The melodrama has not toned down since.

Favourite meal of the day?

Dinner I guess? It’s got the most yumminess possibility. The yummy levels are over 9000

What are you excited for?

Christmas break! This semester is beating my ass and I can’t wait for it to no longer be

Not excited for?

My finals.

When was the last time you cried?

Last night over the amount of work I had to do LOL

Dream house?

Omg a cabin or like a cottage home!! uGh itd be a dream!! Jus me and the trees

What’s something you hate about the world?

Injustice, prejudice and ignorance. I have no tolerance for it and there seems to be a lot of it. Wish a lot more people would just have less hate in them.

What’s something you love about the world?

It’s beauty!! Even outside of things that make me frustrated or terrified, the world always shows us reasons to love and reasons to live and I gotta remember that!

What scents do you like?

I love spicy “musky” smells lol I wear a unisex perfume cuz I love warmer smelling stuff like vanilla etc..

What kind of sleeper are you?

Not a good one ahahsjssk

Are you a cat or dog person?

Typically, I’m a dog person but I love cats just the same!

How long would you survive in a zombie apocalypse?

Literally like a couple hours I’d see a singular zombie and immediately fart and die from fear 😔✊🏻

Are you trusting?

I think so? But I have a really strong intuition when it comes to people so i give trust where it’s due

What fictional character do you identify with?

Idk this is a hard one I’m never good at picking one for myself lol

What labels do you commonly get?

I get sensitive a lot.. especially when I was little and I used to hate it cuz I used to see the negative in it but I think us sensitive people have got to start using it as a strength! (And maybe people should be less mean also ahshag)

What song would be your life anthem?

This is another hard one but I guess just my fave song: Jimi Hendrix’ Voodoo Chile?

What issues are you dealing with rn?

Erm school and being anxious I guess...schools been stressing me out and it’s hard going to class when you’re just terrified of everything but I’m working on it so 💩

How can someone win you over?

Literally just be nice I am not hard to win over Loool

What’s something about you people don’t know?

I don’t really talk about it a ton but I’m adhd and was diagnosed super late in life so I spent most of my childhood and teens thinking that I was just a spaz who had a lot to think about but my brain was straight up goofing the whole time lmao I’m slowly starting to learn to cope with it but it’s been a tough journey especially being in uni and trying to do adult things. So I’m sending a hug to anyone else who also suffers because it is not an easy ride <3

I’d like to tag (and ik this is a long one so feel free to ingnore me if u don’t want to) @cantbehandled-ever @satans-helper @seven-seas-of-hi @karrotkate @v-i-d-e-n-o-i-r @lazingonsunday @thatflowerpower @eatmyshiftsticky @shes-outta-sight @pvre-mourning @aint-no-denying @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade ⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨