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#NO we did NOT level up BUT i got 2000 gold and a cool one time use spell tattoo
ravcnism · 3 months
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HEY uhm.. i've been having this idea.. like imagine kenji sato x m!reader athlete as well? help, i just thought the dynamic would be cute. it could be a rival team on the baseball league or another sports. I just thought it would be cool!
STRIKEOUT. — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER
Summary: The Hiroshima Toyo Carp may have a new player in town, but his name is nowhere near unheard of. The prized star pitcher of The States takes the country by storm when he spontaneously shows up against the Yomiuri Giants. Ken Sato’s career is given a run for its money.
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# # TAGS: Longform, Enemies to Lovers but like Still Enemies as Lovers, A LOT of Tension, Sports Anime-Level of Ridiculous, Star-Athlete!Male Reader, Author Doesn't Actually Know Anything About Baseball, Sort of a Slow Burn? No Beta We Die Like Onda
# # WARNINGS: Mild Violence, Mature Language, Eventual Smut if I’m Brave Enough, English is not My First Language, Around 2000 Words, Part One of ??
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Night fell promptly upon the Sato residence. The sun had tucked itself into the sea and left a trail of gold in its warm, glistening wake. From afar, the ever-lively city of New Tokyo lit up street by street.
Beneath the water, in the basement, a newly-bathed Emi waddled towards her corner of the house; smelling of fresh sakura petals, and cuddling a half-crushed Nissan Skyline GT-R. Full from dinner, and satisfied by her shower, she felt the gentle arms of sleep coaxing her to a nap. With a squeaky yawn, and a stretch of her arm, she succumbed to its calls and laid on her spot on the ground. A very amused Hayao Sato came walking after her. “Silly girl. The bath and snack combo never fails to knock you out, huh?”
Kenji Sato, well-dressed for a night out, entered after. He was preoccupied by his sleeves, fingers fumbling to button them shut. “Remember, Dad. No videos after 10 pm. We can’t ruin her sleep schedule again.”
“Of course, Kenji.” His father waved him off with his cane. “You act as if I don’t know her routine like the back of my hand.”
“I’m just making sure.” He was fixing his hair, then, gelling it into place. His eyes narrowed at his own reflection, trying to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “And of course you’ve got Mina to help.”
“Definitely, Ken.” As if on cue, the round hovering bot came floating in. “We have everything under control. You needn’t worry about us here.”
Professor Sato chuckled at his son, leaning on his good foot. “You seem to have a lot of nervous energy in you, Kenji.”
The batter sighed, tugging on his collar one last time. “I’m always nervous when I’m not playing.” Deciding he looked alright, Ken left his reflection alone. “No idea why. Might have something to do with my dislike towards things that I can’t control, but I’m not gonna get into that right now–” He shuffled about, searching frantically for his jacket. “Mina, where did I put my–?” An extended robot arm appeared from the floor and handed it to him. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Try to enjoy yourself anyway, Kenji.” Professor Sato had walked over to Emi, who was fast asleep, snoring slightly. He lifted a hand and rubbed her head. “I think it’s good that you go to these games even when you’re not scheduled. I can tell it lifts your team’s spirits.”
“Yeah, well, honestly I’m still trying to get used to it. The whole sportsmanship thing.” Ken sprayed his cologne on. He made a quick jog towards Emi and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight, Sweetie.” He looked at his dad. With his motorcycle keys now in hand, he walked backwards to their glass elevator. “If anything happens, call me. You know the drill.”
“Yes, Ken,” replied Mina. “We do. Rest assured, there will not be a repeat of last time.”
“Right, right. Last time.” Kenji forced out a laugh. “Look, if she wakes up and I’m not home yet, try to get her to tire herself out. Load up a park. Throw some balls. But no flying outside, please? You know she gets carried away.”
“Understood.”
With a final glance, and a reluctant sigh, he stepped into the lift. “I’ll be back soon.” Leaving her 20-foot Kaiju-of-a-daughter never got any easier — no matter how many times he had gone and done it. He waved his family a quick goodbye, before disappearing from their line of sight.
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His dad was right. It was good that he was going. The Giants had a game to win.
"Good evening sports fans! Ladies and gentlefolk, we welcome you to the highly anticipated matchup between the Hiroshima Toyo Carp and your Yomiuri Giants.”
The stadium was bright and buzzing with excitement. Ken was used to the energy, but he never grew tired of it. There was something almost magical about having this many people in a stadium together. Something electrifying about hearing their collective voices. Whether or not he was set to play, the crowd was what grounded him into focus. He adored their cheers, regardless of who it was directed to.
“We’ve got an intense start to the game so far, the home crowd doesn’t look too happy with Tateoka’s second strikeout.”
“How's it looking?” Ken appeared beside his teammate, Yuki, who was watching the game by the barriers.
“Bad. We're dying out there, Sato. Tateoka's our second batter. We're down one strikeout.”
Ken's brows knitted together, intrigued. He had gotten here a little late and missed a good chunk of the first inning. He had missed most of the commentary, too, so he was pretty much left in the dark. All he knew was that the home crowd didn't look too cheerful. And neither did Coach Shimura. ( Though technically, he couldn't remember a time when Shimura looked anything less than disappointed. ) Ken settled into his spot, nursing a canned soda.
The pitcher’s back was against him, his jersey name too far for him to read. He couldn't see who it was. Ken took notice of their form. Their figure. “Wait, who's throwing again?”
His teammate dropped a name so familiar it sent Ken choking on his drink.
“Fucking, who?” He dropped the name of a famous star-athlete. A name he saw on billboards, news reports, articles. A name so expensive it put his vintage cars to shame. A name with a strikeout rate so disgustingly high it had the best teams falling to their knees. A staggering 1.75 ERA. Almost zero walks. Your name, sent a shiver down Ken Sato’s spine. You, the Mets’ notorious Bullet, now a surprise player of the Toyo Carp.
He watched as you turned around. Your face came into view. You were frighteningly calm. The Giants’ batter was one strike away from an out. Kenji swallowed thickly. “When the hell did he get here?”
“Yeah. Apparently they traded him to Carp a week ago. Didn't get much buzz for some reason.” Yuki scoffed. “Think they covered it up? Element of surprise? It was a pretty big move.”
The fact that Kenji had never been put up against you before was sheer dumb luck. That's what he thought, anyway. Despite the fact that the both of you had been celebrities in The States, the seasons just never aligned well enough to get the both of you to play at the same park. But he hadn't dreamed of it. Who in their right mind would? Like a bullet from a gun, your pitches were unstoppable. You had a mutant-like control over the ball. There were studies on the physics of your technique. Even the best batters would miss your throws. And at that moment, as he watched his teammate strike himself out, Kenji wondered if he'd miss, too.
He wouldn't have to keep wondering. Understanding the weight of your presence, the Yomiuri Giants opted to bring in the calvary.
“Sato.” Ken flinched at Shimura’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, facing him. “Locker room. Get dressed — I'm calling you up.”
He laughed, nervously. “You sure that's legal, coach?” He wasn't scheduled to play today, and spontaneously entering a non-player into the field was only allowed upon certain circumstances. Like an injury, for example.
“Of course it is.” Shimura grumbled. “Tokuda just broke his arm.”
The mentioned Tokuda stood behind him, sipping on some soda, with his obviously not-broken arm. “You heard the man, Ken. I just broke my arm.”
Ken grimaced, heading for the door. “The press is going to love this…” Japan's finest batter, versus The States’ fastest pitcher. Oh, this would make the headlines for sure.
Kenji did as he was told. He walked into the locker room, then walked out in full-attire. The speakers crackled to life. There was a steady rise in the crowd’s demeanor. People were slowly piecing the situation together. The announcers were losing their minds. “And It looks like — oh my goodness, folks. I don't believe this. Ken Sato has been called up into the field!”
The stadium went alight. Ken walked into the park and wondered if the lights were a little brighter than usual. He was doing his stretches, rolling his shoulders. His bat was handed to him and he flipped it in his hand. He allowed the cheers to boost his energy, and perhaps a bit of his ego.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we might be witnessing baseball history tonight! Two of the opposing team’s star players have come face to face for the first time ever. And it's happening right here, right now.”
You met his eyes. Ken’s breath hitched. You were so… intense. He couldn't properly describe it. You watched him move into position like a lion stalking its prey.
“Will Sato stop the Toyo Carp’s brand new Bullet? Or will he walk out of this game bleeding?”
The trick was to look them in the eye. A pitcher was no different from a batter when it came to a game. They shared the same weight of responsibility. The only time a stadium is silent is when they're standing face to face. Like a duel. One of Ken’s techniques was staring them down and reminding them that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was Ken Sato, for crying out loud.
Unfortunately for him, you were unshaken. Which he would’ve been offended by, if he were younger and more immature. No matter, he had other things to look for. Like the cues. Each pitcher had their own cue; a sort of tell that told Ken what kind of throw they’d be going for. He didn’t hit those pitches out of pure luck. Contrary to popular belief, he was actually thinking these games through. There were a plethora of things to look at. A pitcher’s stance, their position, which hand they were using. In an easier game, Ken would be able to read these pitchers like an open book.
But if you were a book, then you would've been written in a different language. He could find no such cues. He didn’t really have anything to calculate. You were as unpredictable as you were quick. None of his usual techniques seemed to be working on you.
The last resort: keep your eye on the damn ball, and freakin’ swing.
You held your hand outward, fingers pointed at him. There was a kind of hunger in your eyes, an expression that made Ken’s heart skip a beat. Your focused glare made him feel as if a red dot had appeared on his forehead. Like you had marked him for prey. It felt… personal. Like it wasn’t a part of the game, and you were only pointing at him. A threat. A dare.
You pulled your pitching arm back. He swore he heard a gun cock. The stadium went quiet. The crowd held its breath. So did Ken. He tightened his grip on his bat. He waited, eagerly, for you to make your move. He was counting the milliseconds, watching you, anticipating your throw, waiting for you to shoot.
And you did.
Ken blinked, and the ball was gone from your hands. He released the breath he was holding through a disbelieved scoff. He turned, and the catcher had stumbled slightly, holding your ball. The crowd grew into disarray, a rising cacophony of cheers and boos. They just couldn’t believe it. Ken Sato not only missed your pitch, but wasn’t able to move at all. He couldn’t even swing. You were too fast. Too abrupt.The ball was a white blur, there a moment, then gone the next. It wasn’t an issue of the curve, nor the direction. It was just too fucking fast.
His teammates couldn’t believe their eyes. And neither did his coach. Ken craned his head to look at you. You stared back at him, stone-faced.
He took a breath to regain his composure, resuming his earlier stance. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He was trying to understand how that throw was humanly possible. How he had somehow forgotten to move. He could do nothing more but stand haunted as he heard the resounding “strike one!” from the umpire. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed, but it was the first time he froze. It was a spectacle to all, and a moment of horror for his fans. Did the Unstoppable Ken Sato finally meet his match? Even if he did, he was determined not to lose a second time.
“Okay,” he whispered. He took a deep, focused breath, slightly shifting his stance. He kept his feet firm on the ground, bat at the ready. “Okay, Hotshot. Bring it on.”
You kept your eyes on him and him alone. You stared at him as if you were the only two people in the stadium. The crowd went silent once again. The Giants fans were desperate to give Sato the focus he so-terribly needed, but the Carp fans were just curious to see how the second pitch would go. The air was thick and heavy with tension.
Like before, you threw your hand out, fingers pointed at Ken. You drew your pitching arm back, like an archer, and there was that sound in his mind again. The cock of a gun. Ken waited. He counted you down. He was a hunter dressed in camo, waiting for a deer to move.
Then, for the first time since he’d seen you, your expression changed. You grinned at him.
Then you winked.
Shit.
You threw the ball. Ken swung.
But he missed.
The crowd erupted into chaos. There was an indistinguishable pandemonium of disdain and celebration. People screamed and jumped and waved their banners as high as they possibly could. A number of them had already entered a state of acceptance — the Giants would lose to a perfect game. No batter would ever get through the wall that was you. But a lot of them kept their faith in the ever-notorious Sato. He could hit the last shot. He could pull this off. He might have been struggling to match your speed, but he would figure it out. They believed in him like he was a god.
And at that moment, as Kenji heard the echoing “strike two!” he certainly felt the anger of one.
Did you just fucking wink? Did you seriously have the audacity to wink at him? Kenji took it personally. Who did you think you were? Though his lips spoke nothing of the foul words he wished so eagerly to shout, it was clear on his face that he wanted you gone. It was one thing to embarrass him with a fastball, but another to rub it in. He wouldn’t let that slide. He wouldn’t allow you to strike him out.
Yoshimura was gripping the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.“Eyes up, Sato!”
Kenji breathed. Through his nose, this time. He drew a long breath into his entire body and blew it out through his lips. He wouldn’t miss. He couldn’t miss. While he might have already taught himself the humility that came with losing, he hadn’t taught himself jackshit about losing to you.
“If looks could kill,” whispered Ami Wakita, the reporter who watched the game from the press booth. Typing into her laptop, she wrote: “There seems to be obvious tension on the field. Nothing new for Ken Sato, yet, significantly different. Japan’s star player has finally met his match. This game has been a long time coming.”
This was his last chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Kenji raised his bat, and narrowed his eyes. You weren’t blind to his added efforts, and smirked at him again. Oh, how it made his blood boil.
Point.
Pull.
Throw.
Swing.
This time, the ball made contact.
The crowd blew up once more, exhausting their lungs as they watched the ball fly across the field. Kenji had hit it. Kenji had managed to catch your bullet-of-a-pitch. He dropped his bat to the ground and ran for his life. Base to base, corner to corner. Kenji leapt across the field and jumped for home.
“Safe!”
The crowd went wild. He had heard stadiums cheer for him before, but he didn't think he had ever heard anything this loud. With a relieved laugh, Kenji got up from the ground, and finally caught his breath. His teammates ran to greet him, though they had only passed the first inning. With a round as intense as that one, they felt it was only right to celebrate a little early.
And then he looked at you. Your eyes met. You were smiling at him again. He didn't like the lack of concern on your face. He didn't like that you didn't seem challenged. And he especially didn't like the fact that he was out there playing for his life, while you seemed to have played for a weekend game at the park.
Kenji was glaring at you, as if he was burning holes into your head. You lifted a hand and threw him a casual salute, flicking two fingers towards his direction. Dammit, he thought. That wink really threw him off. Which it shouldn't have.
Unfortunately for him, the game was nowhere near the last time you'd interact.
And there'd be the after-party to boot.
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suekreandtheidiots · 5 months
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Yes, I drew a mid-2000s teenager line up, featuring some of Hallie and Lance's dearest peers. No, I don't regret a single thing. 😂
***
I know I posted some short descriptions before but II brushed them up a little and want to have them all in one place, so here we go!
From left to right:
Mark McGrath (*February 7th 1987, in London/England, 5'8 ft) had to repeat 8th grade and somehow started hanging out with the cool kids of the year. Went to a fancy English boarding school as a kid... and somehow ended up at a random public school in Scotland as a pre-teen. No one ever found out what made him into the person he was... and no one really dared to just ask him either. A certain mystery surrounded Mark, which was fairly entertaining all by itself. Mark was a cool, calm and collected fella, easygoing and pleasant to be around, never as loud and obnoxious as some others but well, how do they say? Still waters run deep. And dirty. Mark was the one to ask for "special favours", such as getting weed/speed/acid/whatnot. Mark knew everyone and everything. Mark was the guy one would call if they had to get rid of a body. Mark never judged. Mark just did what had to be done. (Liked Hallie a lot, in a very innocent and friendly way, and even though the two never got to know each other on a deeper level, they always got along well and were able to communicate very naturally.)
Calum Hamish Fitzgibbons (*November 6th 1987, in Aberdeen/Scotland, 6'7 ft) was a nice kid, actually. A teenager of his time, with the appropriate brush of occasional overconfidence, because he had the looks and the wit. A lot of his peers looked up to him... quite literally, because, at seventeen, Cal was already 6'7 ft tall. Cal wasn't bad, he was just spoiled. His parents were pretty wealthy and he was used to getting whatever he wanted, without asking or having to put in any effort. That being said, when he was pining for Hallie, he kinda just expected that she would see the light one day, but he never dared to make an actual move to try and win her over. Partly because he didn't see the necessity, and also because romantic feelings for a friend are an awkward thing sometimes. When Hallie didn't just fall for him like he had hoped, and even picked his best friend over him during his absence, he was raging for several reasons. Being a bad person isn't one of them... but a male (teenage) ego is often a fragile one.
Hallie Henderson (*April 2nd 1988 in Aberdeen/Scotland, 5'7 ft) has loved writing all kinds of things ever since she was a wee lass... and being at school only fuelled that particular love! She was a very sweet and clever girl, with interest in pretty much anything, but most of all music, world affairs and also pop and rock culture, as well as clothes and boys (oooh!). Hallie decided to relaunch the school paper (with fellow writing enthusiast Lucy Dunn and the help of a few older students) at the tender age of thirteen, and had a carefully curated (and actually quite popular) web blog ("Hendersonic!") as well, in which she wrote about all the subjects and things that moved her. Hallie grew up with Type 1 diabetes, which always had the potential to put a damper on her generally happy attitude, and she was also afraid of being perceived as "plain" and "boring", and once it became cool to be "not like other girls", Hallie decided to jump right into that and became a bit of a Pick-Me, but she never lost her heart of gold (even though she tried to cover that up with the occasional *edgyness*). Cultural trends come and go, but being kind-hearted is always in style after all!
Lancelot Malcolm "Lance" Abbott (*July 27th 1988 in Aberdeen/Scotland, 5'3 ft) was an incredibly smart and headstrong prodigy; bold, clever, persistent and outspoken. It always seemed like there was nothing that Lance Abbott couldn't do... which was true, in a way, but also got to his head, unfortunately. Lance may have been kind at heart, but that wasn't exactly the part of his personality that he decided to flaunt - Lance was arrogant, on the brink of being very insensitive and plain rude at times. Despite his short and slight build, he had a very striking and intimidating presence; even people older than him preferred to not get into discussions and arguments with the little Abbott. Aside from his academic pursuit, Lance was also very musically gifted. He has played drums from an early age on, taught by his legendary dad, Craig, and had a great understanding for music in general.
Diana "Di" Ballantyne (*December 5th 1987, in Aberdeen/Scotland, 5'6 ft) was a stunning and headstrong Femme Fatale in training, with a passion for make up and clothes, and a strong disdain for Hallie and Lucy... and anyone else she deemed weird and/or boring. There was no rhyme and reason to what and whom Diana deemed boring, though, she just wanted to vibe and refused to put up with people and things she had no desire to put up with. Used to date Lance for a few months until she realised that the wee Abbott is just as much as a pain in the arse as she is, and broke up with him when things became too much of a hassle. (Met Lance again while he was in med school, and both hooked up every now and then over the years, despite not actually being into each other. Honestly, don't ask. 🤣)
It's hard to sum up Lowell "Fozzy" Foster (* September 17th 1987, in Inverness/Scotland, 6'5 ft) in just a few sentences... he was an experience. Not at all a bad kid either, but, uhm... well, let's just say that Fozzy's loyalty and integrity had limits, namely any time he sensed that there could be something in for him, when there was a lass he liked involved, or when doing the right thing was simply too much of a hassle. Aside from all this, Fozzy was a music freak, too, which is what always brought him and Lance back together, despite their various quarrels. Fozzy came from a very musically gifted family - he is the son of Andrew Foster, a well-known concert pianist, and Fionnula Graham-Foster, an opera singer. Being taught by his dad from an early age on, Fozzy was an outstanding piano player himself but he never bragged about that and rather half-arsed his way into playing other instruments instead, so he'd appear cooler to his peers. Fozzy was fun company, up for anything and an entertaining fella all around, for sure... it was just better to watch one's back when getting involved with him.
Lucille "Lucy" Dunn (* February 21st 1988) relaunched the school paper together with Hallie (and a few others) when both were thirteen and she became one of Hallie's closest friends over the years. Lucy was sweet in nature, but also quite blunt and never really cared about what others thought of her. She often spoke out what the sensitive Hallie didn't dare to say. She was also a childhood friend of Fozzy and secretly liked him a lot more than she ever cared to admit. Lucy was pretty badass overall and a true friend to anyone who managed to gain her trust, and she would not take crap from anyone, not even her teachers. When she punched a fellow student in the face after he groped her, and she was about to get detention, Lucy made it very clear to the headmaster what she thought of that - she threatened to take the incident to the paper and the police... and managed to get away with a warning. She still wrote about sexual harrassment in the school paper and dropped names, which was a scandal all on its own, but that's a different story. That being said, it was better not to mess with the young Miss Dunn - no matter what, she would strike back.
Timothy "Tim" Irvine (*March 3rd 1988) was the good soul of the gang. Outspoken and eloquent and not at all shy to voice his opinions, but where others of the same age just blurted out with whatever came to their minds at the moment, Tim actually thought about what he said. He was true friend material, always eager to understand both sides in an argument and staying respectful, even when he was mad or didn't agree with something. Tim didn't love what Lance started something with Hallie while knowing that his friend had been into her for an eternity, while they were away on vacation, but he was very willing to cut his friend some slack because he also saw what he had gone through. He was definitely not okay with the way Cal, Fozzy and Mark wanted to pay Lance back and eventually had a fall out with them as well. Tim was the last person of the former gang that Lance sent a text message to ("I'm alright, thanks. Take care, mate!"), after the blow up, and before they all went their separate ways in late Summer 2006.
***
Some closes ups, the lineart and the sketch:
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ahfrickenfrick · 2 years
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buzzfeed unsolved: The disappearance of Jason Todd
Ryan
Shane
This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we will be discussing the disappearance of Jason Todd-Wayne, which has had updates as recently as last week.
Wait last week? Ryan, if we disappear because of this episode imagine how cool it would be. Maybe we hang with our good pal Jason.
I don’t have time for you being stupid. I have to get this right, because let me be honest. I have a man crush on Bruce Wayne, and if he ends up watching this and you’re being stupid I’ll never forgive you.
Okay, sure. Cause Bruce Wayne is searching the internet for every little thing posted about his dead son.
(wheeze)
We don’t know if he’s dead! And that’s what I’m here to talk about today.
-
Jason Peter Todd was born August 16th, 2000 in Gotham City, New Jersey, to his mother Dr. Sheila Haywood and his father Willis Todd. However only a few months later did Willis Todd marry Catherine Johnson, forcing Dr. Haywood to have to relinquish custody.
If I ever have a kid-
-they would all have your big head and I’d feel sorry for them.
Ryan. I listen to you ramble about murderers and ghosts. Let me tell my spiel.
(wheeze)
Right, sorry.
If I ever have a kid with someone, I think I’d be really upset if they just kinda made me give my kid to a stranger.
Here’s the thing to that! No one has heard or seen from Dr. Sheila Haywood since, like after her son was born. The only thing that might link back to her is an illegal botched surgery, but most of it was sealed off, and I don’t feel like having the Gotham City Police Department call me up
(ring ring)
Hi yes, are you that idiot from that show? You will be arrested immediately! Batman and his group of… misfits?? I don’t know, but they are on their way!
Moving on from your weird role play, like all the families that live in Park Row, what is deemed “Crime Alley”, the Todd family did not have money.
You could not pay me to go to a place called Crime Alley.
We were actually going to Gotham, scope around, maybe get a selfie with Robin-
-Which one?
I need to do an episode trying to figure out how many Robin’s there actually are… I think there have been five?? Six?? I don’t know… stop distracting me with Batman! We ended up scraping the visitation part because apparently this time of year Arkham breakouts are common, and I don’t want to get fear gassed.
-
Jason did decent at school, until he stopped showing up, school records are really spotty after third grade. Apparently he was reading and understanding college level stuff, but that’s really all we got on it.
Not a lot on this guys younger life it looks like.
No there isn’t, not any social media posts, or news articles, or anything if that sort about Jason until a few years later in 2012, when Jason became the ward to the one and only, Bruce Wayne.
Ah, Bruce Wayne, you love him, I love him, uhm- I actually don’t know much about Bruce Wayne other than the fact he’s one of the few rich people who give away a shit ton of money.
Bruce Wayne is a billionaire CEO, with a heart of gold, and some say he sleeps around, but as long as he’s not hurting anyone. Also! He’s a dad! Bruce Wayne is a trusted person within the Foster Care over in Gotham. He takes in the extreme cases that would probably leave the kid with a bunch of trauma.
Well, with what I’ve heard about Gotham, he must have like a billion kids with just a bunch of trauma
Let’s see what I remember from research, cause I did not write anything down for this. His first ward was Richard Grayson, who goes by Dick, was taken in after he watched his whole family fall and die on the trapeze.
As I said before, Jason was brought into Mr. Wayne’s custody after the death of both his father and his step mother. His father’s death was unknown, and his step mother died from a drug overdose… in front of Jason.
Uhm- Tim Drake? His was more interesting to watch unfold because there’s a whole other multimillion almost billion dollar company that Tim’s parents owned, and there was a lot covered up by lawyers and stuff, but Tim ended up with the Waynes
Then there’s the only female in the place, Cassandra Wayne, she is selectively mute, and overly protected by her adoptive family, nothing was shared with the media about where she came from.
Damian Wayne is the only blood son to Bruce Wayne, he didn’t even know about the kid until… like last year? Two years ago? Again, not a lot that I remember.
And then there’s been rumors of him taking in another kid, but nothing for sure yet.
Jesus, Ryan take a breath, and go back to Jason, because now I’m hoping I believe your theories about him being alive cause what this family didn’t need is another death.
Look, Shane. I’m going to be straight with you here. There are three possible theories I think could be plausible. So let’s jump right into them.
-
Theory one, is that Jason Todd is alive and in hiding from The Joker. This is the second most popular idea, and one I hope is true. There really isn’t anything else to this theory, besides a picture of someone that looks a little like Jason in the middle of Asia.
Doppelgänger, probably. Lemme see. I don’t know… this kinda looks like someone edited it.
Yeah, like it looks really distorted. I don’t know if I think it’s real, but it’s what people online were talking about.
Crazy, that people online would doctor fake photos of a kid who had died.
Exactly, which is why people think he’s alive, cause who would do that?
Theory two is that Jason Todd died as his family said he did, looking for his birth mother. Apparently he was in the Middle East, found his mother, but then both were found dead in an explosion caused by the Joker.
So the Joker, who is Gotham’s Prince of Crime, was somehow in the Middle East? I don’t buy it
I didn’t either, until I looked just a little deeper, and found that the next week Superman and Batman stopped the Joker from murdering the United Nations. So he was in the area.
Oh my god. If.. I know on this show I try to goof off, but it’s hard when it’s a kid. How old was Jason?
Only 15. He just got back into the swing of things at school, getting all A’s, he was in the Drama program and the Poetry club. If you scroll down a on Dick Grayson’s Instagram you can find a selfie of Dick and Jason, Jason being in his school uniform only a week before he died. The two seemed to be really close, with how much Grayson posted of the two of them, and then it was radio silence from the man until a year after Jason’s death, where he made a memorial post, along with Bruce Wayne, who made the Jason Peter Todd Memorial Foundation, which helps families in Crime Alley.
Look, not okay with the kid dying, but it makes me kinda smile to see that his family got together to do something like this in his name.
I don’t think you understand the length of what this fund does. It provides special housing for single mothers, has opened up two clinics that help with drug abuse and addiction, and keeps kids in warm clothes and in school.
That’s- wow. Okay, you are making this “he’s dead” thing seem like it’s the only thing that happened.
Well, theory 3, is that he died-
Wait what?
He died, and came back to life.
This, I think, is worse than you saying ghosts are real.
We live in a world where someone can run at the speed of light! Yet you draw the line at ghosts and maybe hopefully someone who isn’t dead.
Yeah, but that’s science. Okay whatever where’s the proof of him being alive.
Okay, looking at the timeline. Jason Todd died at 15, in 2015. And the Wayne’s kinda were quiet for a year and a half, besides the foundation they set up, even with Tim, nothing really new was happening.
And then things seemed to go back to normal, they all frequented gala’s again, and all the other social stuff they did-
Yeah, nice choice of wording there
Shut up, anyways, in 2018 a picture appears, not even the front page, of Dick Grayson walking and laughing with someone who looks a lot like if Jason Todd grew up for a few years, and then decided to dye his hair.
Listen, Ryan. People have doppelgängers. We just saw the other picture and it’s clearly fake- Jesus Christ that looks exactly like Jason.
Exactly! And I started looking around more, finding pictures of the Wayne family around Gotham from news sites, and every once in a while, that guy pops up. Never in the picture, but always somewhere in the background like he wasn’t wanting to be seen. Like i mentioned in the beginning, there was a picture from a week ago that looks exactly like him.
Wait, is this a theory from the internet or something you came up with?
Both, kind of? I saw someone make a bad joke about it, and then it kinda stuck in my head as I looked for more information. Apparently there is a mythical pit that could bring someone from the dead.
Okay, yeah. Mythical revival pit. As if any living person wouldn’t be all over that.
Look man, that’s just the information I found. But I really really hope that Jason is alive somewhere safe, or resting peacefully.
The most believable for me is that he did pass away. But I’d love to be wrong.
That being said, I got really sad looking through all of Jason’s life, I felt like I was being more invasive than usual. So I talked with the crew and Buzzfeed, and we are donating all revenue from this video to the Jason Memorial fund in Gotham.
But the mystery of Jason Todd, still remains….
Unsolved
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rainecloud020604 · 3 years
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gotta love it when only three party members show up for a session and the dm says fuck you and makes you fight 2 cr 10 creatures and a cr 8 with a few others for funnies
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mandoalorian · 3 years
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Return of the Jedi [Max Lord x gn!Reader]
Summary: You and Alistair are heartbroken when you find out opening week tickets for Return of the Jedi have sold out. So Maxwell calls an old friend and organises a special surprise for his little family.
Warnings: food mention
Word count: 2000>
Author’s note: I received a request to write a Maxwell Lord x neurodivergent!Reader from @smoldjarin . They provided me with so much information in regards to autism, stimming, hyperfixations and more. I had so much joy writing this and I hope you find joy in reading it too. I couldn’t have done this without Melissa. I just hope I done it justice. (PS— I wanted to include Melissa’s love for Star Wars in this. I think we all, as Pedro stans, love Star Wars).
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Maxwell wanted to pull his hair out. He had no idea what you and Alistair were yapping on about, but, evidently, it was something you both felt very passionate about. He’d seen you enthusiastic like this before, sure, but this was the first time he’d ever seen Alistair so hyped up. His brown eyes were gleaming as he hopped up and down.
“He literally said ‘I am your father!’ you laughed and Alistair let out a long groan.
“Yeah but he’s the bad guy! And the bad guys always lie,” Alistair explained — and that statement alone was enough to make Maxwell frown. ‘The bad guys always lie’ ... Ironic, to say the least. But, Alistair did make an excellent point. “I don’t trust him.”
You giggled and pulled Alistair into your lap. You’d never found it easy, touching people and being so close to them, but Alistair has grown to be an exception. He was like a son to you.
“Well, I suppose all will be revealed next week.” you told the ebony haired boy, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
You and Alistair got along really well, and Maxwell couldn’t be more grateful, but it was the moments when you both babbled on about Star Wars that had him feeling the most clueless. Granted, he hadn’t found the chance to sit through the movies, but he wanted to because he knew how much it meant to you and his son.
He was also made blissfully aware that the third and final instalment of the trilogy was being released next week, because you and Ali couldn’t stop talking about it. Even in the moments when Alistair wasn’t there, you expressed your excitement to Maxwell. He found it endearing though. He loved it when you talked about your interests and current hyper-fixations. Which is why his heart broke when you read the Friday morning paper and found out all the tickets for opening week were sold out.
Max, despite having no interest in Star Wars, was devastated when he saw the look on your face. He especially didn’t want to be the person who had to break the bad news to Alistair.
“I was really looking forward to it.” You mumbled sadly, your eyes fixated on your cereal. You only had a little left to eat, but truthfully, you’d lost all appetite. These movies and this franchise meant the absolute world to you, and now no doubt you’d have the final movie spoiled for you at work or by the television.
“Oh darling,” Maxwell hummed, wrapping his strong arms around you and holding you tight. You relished in his warmth and found yourself getting lost in the comforting scent of his sweet musk cologne. “I know. And I’m sorry,” the silence between you both broke his heart. “Don’t worry honey, I’ll fix this.”
You weren’t sure how he could possibly fix this. There were simply no more seats available in the movie theatres. He couldn’t just spawn in more seats. What Maxwell Lord did have though, was power, influence and money— and when he put his mind to something, he was sure to get it done. You had never met anyone more determined than him.
He didn’t want to leave you that morning, but duty called and he had to go to work. You tried your hardest to push through the day, ignoring this morning’s revelation. You opted to meet up with a friend at the park, and got ice cream. But when you’re friend told you they’d got tickets, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. You deserved these tickets. It just wasn’t fair.
Maxwell was struggling to focus on his work too. He was running out of bright ideas, but he didn’t just want his statement from this morning to be another empty promise. He actually wanted to fix this. He’d do anything to make you and Alistair happy.
Then it struck him. If his life was a kids cartoon, an illuminated lightbulb would’ve popped above his head. He buzzed his assistant, Raquel, into his office.
“Mr. Lord?” she smiled, walking towards his pine wood desk. Maxwell combed his fingers through his golden locks of hair and looked up at the blonde girl.
“Do I know anyone who is in the uh— the new Star Wars movie?” He inquired.
Raquel was expecting some question about the latest oil numbers, or a request for more supplements — so to say she was taking aback by her boss’ query was an understatement.
She thought for a moment. “Well, Harrison Ford has been a long time investor for Black Gold. He attended last year’s charity gala. Do you remember?”
Of course Maxwell remembered. How could one forget about being in the presence of Hollywood A-Lister Harrison Ford? “Harrison’s in Star Wars?” Maxwell quizzed, trying to hide his piqued curiosity. “Bring me his number. I have to make a call.”
———
Maxwell was so excited to get home and share the good news with you and Alistair. You greeted him just as you normally did, with a loving embrace and a gentle kiss.
“How was your day sweetheart?” your boyfriend asked, smoothing out your hair.
You shrugged. “Fine I s’pose,” you told him. “How was work?”
Maxwell’s grin only grew. “Bring Alistair in.” he beamed.
You called for the boy who had been playing with his action figures in his bedroom. His mom had dropped him off about an hour before Maxwell got home. You and Ali snuggled into each other on the crushed velveteen sofa as Maxwell paced backwards and forwards. It wasn’t nervous pacing though, he was bubbling with anticipation.
“I hope you’re all excited for tomorrow night,” Maxwell began, before flashing three pristine Return of the Jedi tickets before yours and Alistair’s eyes. “Because I met with my good friend Han Solo for lunch and he has given us access to a private screening on Sunday night. So we get to see the movie before the rest of the world.”
You felt like you were in a dream. He’d done it. He’d actually fixed it. You didn’t know how and you knew better than to question him, but it didn’t matter because he somehow managed to fix this and it was all to you and Alistair. You’d found it so hard to find someone who loved you for you, who didn’t mind your stims and who encouraged your hyperfixations. But Maxwell was that man and you couldn’t believe how lucky you had gotten.
Alistair bounced up and jumped on his dad, almost knocking him over in the process. Maxwell wrapped his arms around the six year old and picked him up.
“Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!” he squealed, unable to contain his ecstatic grin. “I had no idea you were friends with Han Solo!”
Maxwell smiled. “Oh yeah, me and Han go way back. I used to co pilot with him on the—“ Maxwell paused for a second as he tried to recall what Harrison told him. He had to get this right. “—Millennium Falcon?”
Both yours and Alistair’s jaw dropped. Gods, he was good at this. Maxwell may have been a brilliant businessman but he was an even better father.
“Does that mean you know Luke and Leia too?” Alistair asked.
“Oh yes.” Maxwell nodded, despite having no idea who Luke and Leia were.
“And Chewbacca?”
Chewbacca? Maxwell thought. What kind of name was that? Never the less he smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”
“And Artoo and Threepio?”
Maxwell blinked. “Yep.” he replied through gritted teeth.
“Wow daddy,” Alistair hummed, snuggling into his dad’s chest. “I’m so excited.”
Maxwell dropped Alistair the ground and kneeled to his level. “You should put on your jammies and have an early night. That way, tomorrow will come around quicker.”
“Okay!” Alistair agreed enthusiastically before running back into his bedroom.
“And remember Ali!” Maxwell called. He cleared his throat and pointed his finger. “I am your father.”
That was it. That was the last straw. You’d tried your hardest to hold back your laughter as Max humoured his son, but seeing your boyfriend do a Darth Vader impression was something else.
Max sighed and sat down next to you, pulling your body into his lap. “I love you so much, my dear.”
You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you too. I can’t believe you did all of this.” you revealed.
“I always keep my promises.” he replied with the most genuine smile.
———
The movie was a success, and even Maxwell enjoyed it, which was very unexpected.
“I can’t believe Darth Vader was telling the truth,” Alistair sighed, exasperated. It had been a long day for sure, and his cheeks were still rosy with excitement. “I’m so glad Darth Vader isn’t my dad.”
Maxwell tutted.
“But he turned good in the end,” You smiled, taking Ali’s hand. “He saw what truly mattered. He had to save his son.”
Yeah, the parallels between Vader and Luke and Maxwell and Alistair were interesting to say the least.
“Daddy, who was your favourite character?” Alistair asked.
Maxwell thought for a moment. “I liked that guy in the green armour, he was cool. He sorta reminds me of, well, me.”
“Boba Fett?” Alistair quirked an eyebrow. “Oh daddy, no one is as cool as Boba Fett.”
Maxwell feigned a gasp. “Not even your old
man?”
Alistair giggled and rolled his eyes. “I liked the Ewok!” he announced and then tugged on your hand. “Who did you like?”
“I like Leia,” you beamed. “She’s strong and beautiful...”
“Just like you.” Maxwell whispered, brushing his
lips against yours.
The night came to an end and you couldn’t have been happier. As you lay in bed, you thanked Maxwell for all he had done. He was truly the best boyfriend in the world. He loved you so much, and he swore in that moment, as you fell asleep in his arms, that the next promise he’d make would be a promise to himself.
He was going to marry you.
———
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agent-cupcake · 4 years
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just curious, what’s your favorite and least favorite character design? my least fav for sure has got to be female byleth for reasons i don’t want to get in to yep ok have a good day 😁
IOops this accidentally became a rant, sorry
Okay so, to preface this all, I’m not a character designer and I’m actually pretty bad at it, but my rule of thumb with really unappealing or fan-service outfits is whether or not it makes sense character-wise and how much it tells the player about the character. For example, I think we can all agree that there’s quite a bit of fan-service elements in Hilda’s design. Boob window. However, it’s not unrealistic to imagine Hilda picking out those clothes for herself. Her costume tells you almost everything you need to know about her character on a visual level. She’s confident, pretty, attention-grabbing, and high maintenance while the gloves and laced girdle give a nod to her Viking-maiden roots.
Taking it to female Byleth, I don’t think that her outfit works on either front. Her design is definitely my least favorite and it’s not helped by the fact that you have to look at her at all times. Whatever. The huge, solid mass of boobs, the buttoned bib, the big eyes, the feather hair, the bellybutton, the ripped tights, the booty shorts. She’s a merc out in life and death situations with an accessible, pale, tacky 2000′s “stab me” stomach cut out and a wedgie. Which could be excusable if, like Hilda, there was reason to believe that that her costume was character choice. But she doesn’t really have much character, and what there is gives the impression of a very stoic, dry, blunt person. I have no idea why they’d have gone that route when the sexual appeal of more “utilitarian” costuming (aka, form fitting armor that at least pretends to be functional) for characters like her is scientifically proven AND would say more about the singular personality trait she possesses. Okay, well, I know why they didn’t do that and I think it’s lame. This dysfunction of “character designer wanted a sexy girl but it’s kinda random and just shoved in the game without any thought” actually reminds me a lot of Xenoblade 2′s leading ladies, Hikari and Pyra. Although considering that their bad designs led to a lot of people hating the game for superficial reasons while accepting female Byleth’s design, I guess I’m just bitter. Jumping to a different comparison, then, look at 2B from Nier Automata. Her design is fine as hell which is kinda hypocritical of me considering that it's explicitly fan-service, but I think it also shows the most damning thing for female Byleth. Her whole look, despite having a dozen different element thrown in, is boring. Maybe it’s the colors (dressing her in all black and white would have been really interesting considering the colors of the three lords are so heavily emphasized as a part of their characters) or maybe it’s just the way the desperate elements come together. But, like I said, I'm not even slightly knowledgeable about character design and I know that despite Three Houses being mostly separate, they had to appeal to a larger aesthetic brand to which I have little experience with. And, ultimately, a lot of people find her cute or sexy which...To each their own, I suppose. I don’t pretend that fan-service doesn’t work on me (2B... Cloud’s arms in the remake... Seph's shirtless Smash skin...) but when it’s this obviously inserted in by the character designers rather than feeling organic in any way AND looks bad I'm just not super interested.
The other worst designs for me would be all four of the Ashen Wolves post timeskip. I don't think it's controversial to say that they didn't try with the clothes, even if I love their designs from the neck up (Yes, even Balthus. He looks like the type of guy that would let you sit on his shoulders at a rock concert so you could see the stage). While there are other designs I think are unappealing, those are for purely aesthetic reasons and so I can't maintain the opinion that they're actively bad or that I even truly dislike them.
As for favorite looks... I actually have a few so sorry you're getting all of them because despite the shit I'm talking, I actually really really love the character designs in Three Houses. 
Ferdinand's post timeskip is one of my favorite designs, if not my favorite. The hair, the coat, the armor, the spurs, the colors. You know exactly who Ferdinand von Aegir is just by looking at him. He’s wealthy, handsome, confident in his appearance, a hero, a princely type character, his battle form is mounted combat which is traditionally aesthetically reserved for nobility and leaders... I love it. The only reason I cannot say he IS my favorite is because of the three Lords. But before them, my honorable mentions include post timeskip Hilda, Dorothea, Lorenz, Felix, and Hubert. Granted, I could make a case for why I like almost all of the student’s post timeskip looks.
For the Lords, I obviously have to start with colors because, weirdly enough, Persona didn’t invent primary colors but are actually used as shorthand. Blue is the color of honor, loyalty, sincerity, sadness, and depression. Something I’ve always found very interesting is that blue is very rarely found in nature. To me, that’s always made it seem more lonely which, at least in this case, is thematically relevant. People call Dimitri boring pre timeskip and while I won’t defend his hairstyle (okay, actually, I probably would because he tucks it behind his ears and idk why but that’s one of the cutest things ever) I really like how unassuming he is. Bland. He’s supposed to be the plain shortbread cookie to caramel deLite Claude and strawberry meringue Edelgard. It is not in his character to draw attention to himself or stand out. To me, he kinda looks like an old Barbie prince, like he should have been named Dominic. Also I love the blue eyes/blonde hair thing and his more angular features. It really helps to sell him as the fakeout chivalrous prince type. Post timeskip, Dimitri's black armor is amazing. I love the fact that it’s a lot more intricate up-close with the different little shell-like pieces and the fact that his boots are furry. I love the big cape and the black and white fur around his shoulders. It’s really cool how they used his costume to change the shape of his in-game model to match the bodily proportions of the character art. It’s easier to see when you change his costume into the DLC ones, but the fur and cape build up his shoulders and chest look more broad while keeping that tiny little waist. The choice to give Dimitri an eyepatch is probably my favorite thing about this design. It’s genuinely inspired. Such a simple detail yet it tells the player everything they need to know about adult Dimitri when they see him post timeskip, in one frame the player can begin to understand the extent of his loss over the past five years. The subtle shadow under his eye in the first few Azure Moon chapters and the messy long-ish hair really help to sell the feral prince aesthetic as well, as it’s from those small cues the player gets that he’s exhausted (in more ways than one) and doesn’t maintain himself. None of these things are intentional choices by Dimtiri, they’re the result of what his character has been through.
Yellow is an intense, energetic color. Mostly, people think of it as being warm and inviting, the color of the sun and positivity. That intensity can be overwhelming, though, too visually demanding when compared to its primary counterparts. Don’t stare at the sun too long. Buuuut, it’s okay to stare at Claude. Claude not wanting to wear tight pants in either of his costumes is not only a mood, it is iconic. Pre timeskip, the softer lines of his silhouette makes him look kinda slouchy, kinda lazy. Like he’s not too concerned with appearances. But those adorably messy curls, the little braid, the clearly tended eyebrows, and earring make it clear that he DOES care about appearances and is very aware of his allure. And that’s before he even starts winking. It is honestly so in character that as many people picked him first on the basis of being thirsty, that feels like an intentionally Claude thing even if it was inserted by the designers. The contrast of his complexion with his seagreen eyes is gorgeous and instantly adds a kind of mystery and intrigue to him considering the setting... but it’s sf funny that nobody looked at bronze god Claude among a sea of white faces and thought something was up. Post timeskip, they used the same trick like they did with Dimitri to change Claude’s in-game model to match his canon appearance. The way they designed his uniform makes him not look as twink-ish, like he’s actually muscular and imposing and has the strength he’d need to shoot a war bow with a 120lbs draw weight. Also like Dimitri, you can instantly tell what Claude’s been up to. Like, he was very pretty pre timeskip but when he shows up in the Goddess Tower after those five years in all that gold, he demands your attention. Like a gentleman general with the excessive aesthetic ideals of the Alliance and details to imply his heritage. The quilted pants are amazing from both an aesthetic and practical standpoint. He’s a mounted unit riding a creature with scales, of course he’d want something on his legs for protection. And the chinstrap. I love that so much, it definitely makes him look more adult. He’s got such a cute soft baby face, it’s fun imagining him experimenting with different styles during the five years to get the most desired physical reaction to him as a leader. 
Frenchfries, meet forehead. No, actually, Edelgard’s design is really fantastic. Claude and Dimitri both have realistically colored eyes and hair and then there’s Edelgard. Dimitri shrugs off attention physically and Claude shirks it with a wink but Edelgard commands the players attention from the very start. Although I’m sure there’s a lot of things to associate with white hair and purple eyes, my first thought was Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Otherworldly beautiful by with an edge. Red, of course, is The power color. Strong emotions, love and hate. Red is also associated strongly with blood, which is very important to Edelgard’s plot. Granted, I think the red and black association is even more powerful than JUST red and red is the cheapest play to make in regards to displaying villainy (I mean, there are some pretty universally recognized associations with red and black and it led to people making some unfair comparisons between Edelgard and a famous dictator) but I think it was effective and well used and I genuinely enjoy its use in her case. Anyway, if I had a major complaint about her design it would be the weird ashy color of her hair whereas Lysithea’s hair is pure white. Which doesn’t even matter with the AMAZING hair horns. Ram horns can actually symbolize quite a few things, but their association with power and strength is pretty universal I think. They’re also used in demonic imagery. I love that THIS was her alternative to a crown. Edelgard views herself as a force of war and power before she thinks of herself as royalty. She also mentions that she isn’t super vain, but she loves to do her hair, so the hair being the most elaborate part of her look is entirely in-character. Edelgard’s ensemble is, like Claude, very militaristic. I love that they kept her in a dress that embraces femininity without showing skin as that wouldn’t really suit her Also, again, Edelgard demands your attention. She’s dressed all in bright bright red waving around a giant axe. She is a symbol as much as she is a combatant, someone to follow. I didn’t really mention their secondary lord costumes, but a girl in sexy armor is literally everything and I love that they had the balls to put their main sexy waifu girl in full body armor.
Okay I’m sorry I realize this was excessive and probably didn’t need explaining and I’m not sure I even articulated my thoughts properly but anyway I love their designs so here is the positivity I’ll put into the world.
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ultrahpfan5blog · 4 years
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Rewatching TDK Trilogy
Easily my favorite superhero trilogy and arguably one of my favorite trilogies of all time. I think in terms of superhero trilogies, Captain America is the one that comes closest because I love all three movies, but they aren’t a trilogy in the normal sense in that Civil War is essentially Avengers 2.5 and neither Civil War nor Winter Soldier can be understood without having watched Avengers and Age of Ultron. But even putting that aside, I adore TDK trilogy and it still ranks as my favorite superhero movies. The trilogy, obviously starting with Batman Begins, is what put introduced me to Nolan. I hadn’t seen Memento and Insomnia till then so Batman Begins was literally my first introduction to him.
I was always a big Batman fan as a huge follower of the DCAU cartoons with Kevin Conroy voicing a really badass Batman throughout the 90′s and into the early 2000′s. While I enjoyed the first 4 Batman movies as a kid, yes even B&R, I always wanted to see the more somber version from the cartoons. Batman Begins hit me at the perfect time where I started to have longer attention spans and wasn’t just looking for the next action scene. Rewatching the movie, it amazes me that Batman doesn’t show up for half the movie. I think that was a really brave call given pretty much all previous Batman movies introduced Batman almost immediately. I genuinely love all the prelude to Bruce becoming Batman. I liked that we got to see his training extensively and we are introduced to the city and see the dynamics of the rich and the poor, the police, the mob, the lawyers etc... It really gives Gotham a very grounded personality. I think Nolan really killed it at the casting level. By getting Caine as Alfred, Freeman as Fox, and Oldman as Gordon, he created a superbly acted support structure around Bruce/Batman, so we aren’t just always waiting for Bruce to show up. On top of that, they had Liam Neeson as Ra’s, who is effortlessly compelling, as well as other strong supporting actors like Cillian Murphy as a scene stealing Scarecrow, Tom Wilkinson as Falcone, Rutger Hauer as Earle etc... All giving personality to a difference facet of the city and Bruce’s life. But this truly is Bale’s movie. I didn’t know him at all prior to this film, but I have been a fan ever since. He carries the movie on his shoulders and he delivers the ferociousness of Batman and the humanity of Bruce Wayne effortlessly. If there is someone who doesn’t make a big impression, its Katie Holmes. I didn’t find her terrible, but rather the character isn’t exactly well written which bleeds into the next movie with Maggie Gyllenhall as well. My favorite Batman performance. Rewatching, what surprised me the most is the amount of humor in the movie. This is actually reflective of the entire trilogy. The movies deal with darkness and death, but there is actually plenty of humor sprinkled throughout these movies which prevent it from being dour. There have been a lot of superhero origin stories, but this still remains the gold standard of superhero origin stories. A 9/10 for me.
There is nothing I can say about The Dark Knight that hasn’t been said a 100 times over. It quite literally is the best comic book movie of all time. But it basically is at heart a drama about Gotham. Whereas BB acts as a character centric piece, this film is about all the characters living in Gotham. Arguable, the character that has the biggest arc in the film is Harvey Dent. Again, the casting department knocked it out of the park with the casting of Aaron Eckhart as Harvey Dent. Unfortunately, Eckhart never really capitalized on his performance here because he really was terrific in the film, both as Harvey and as Two-Face, to the point where you wished you had more of Two-Face. Gary Oldman gave his best work in the trilogy in this movie. The desperation as the situation spins out of control is fabulous. Freeman also has a very meaty role in the movie and continues to add a lot of weight to the scenes as well as plenty of humor, as does Michael Caine. Christian Bale continued to be terrific. There were some complaints about his voice, which I feel have been overexaggerated over the years. I definitely think his Begins voice is better, but barring one or two scenes, I never really had an issue with Bale’s voice in this film. He delivers a very nuanced performance. Maggie Gyllenhaal took over from Katie Holmes in TDK and while I think she is a far better actress than Katie Holmes, I think the character itself is not very well written. In both movies, Rachel comes off as very judgmental. Whereas in BB I can understand her reason in being so, given Bruce was ready to commit murder and later was out being a playboy in front of her for the sake of appearances, in this movie she is judgmental towards Bruce even though she knows what he has been doing to help the city. Also, she did come off a bit flaky in the whole Bruce/Rachel/Harvey triangle. And then there is Heath Ledger. There are very few performances that I consider perfect. This is one of them. I think every choice Ledger makes in this movie, be it intentional or unintentional, works amazingly well. Like him licking his lips to keep the make up on. It just adds a creepy quality to his character, even if it is completely unintentional. There are so many ticks and quirks in Ledger’s performance that make this a phenomenal performance. I don’t see any villain performance having matches that since 2008. I think the closest I have seen prior to that is Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector in Silence of the Lambs. It really is a performance that adds such a big extra edge to the movie. I love that Nolan sticks to certain details such as Bruce never actually drinking alcohol and throwing it away at the part and then Joker showing up and taking a glass and him spilling almost all of it. It gives a lot of personality to the characters. If I have any complaint about the movie, it is that Bruce does at times feel like a stationary character as he does not have as big of an arc as a Harvey Dent. And if you want, you can pick apart the holes in the series of events that happen that cause the chaos. But the drama of the film is just so intense that you forget all of that behind. I give it a 9.5/10
The Dark Knight Rises to me is the film that gets often maligned just because it isn’t TDK. And that is a crazy yardstick to compare it to. But as a movie on its own, its pretty damn awesome. TDKR is where the film truly steps away from being a version of the comics to being an Elseworld story with Batman having been absent for 8 years and then Bruce retiring and leaving Gotham at the end of the movie. But I don’t think there was any way for Nolan to close out his trilogy without it becoming an Elseworld story and it really didn’t matter because I always figured that as long as Bruce is out there, if Gotham needed him, he would come back. Its not as if there aren’t existing comic book stories of Bruce having retired or left being Batman behind. Again, there is some superb new casting. JGL ends up being surprising integral and he is terrific. Tom Hardy is awesome as Bane. He manages to provide a terrifying presence. I actually loved his voice. I love that a terrifying brute of a man has a polite, gentlemanly sounding voice. It gave him a unique personality. Marion Cotillard is pretty good as Talia/Miranda. She has an awkwardly filmed death scene but she’s good throughout the rest of the film, particularly during the reveal scene. But the casting of the movie for me was Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle. I knew Anne Hathaway mostly from the Princess Bride movies till then even though she had gotten an academy award nomination by then. But I really didn’t envisage her as Selina Kyle but she blew me out of the water with her performance. She was seductive, yet very likable. I love the clever costume design of her goggles looking like cat ears when she puts them up. I also love Nolan’s version of the Lazarus Pit. Certainly Bruce’s climb out of the pit is one of the most compelling scenes of the movie. You truly feel the emotion. The film also has one of the best acted scenes I have scene between Michael Caine and Christian Bale in the hallway. Its the scene I remember first whenever I think about TDKR. Oscar quality acting by both in that scene. The returning cast is all terrific but Michael Caine has a few gut wrenching scenes, including this one and the scene at the funeral at the end. Oldman and Freeman continue to be stalwarts throughout the movie, I really admire that Nolan did not waste these actors and given them very substantial roles in all the movies and all these actors really respected the material to not sleep walk through the roles. I think Bale’s performance here rivals his performance in Begins. Particularly in the scenes in the Pit. You get to see a full range of emotions, from pain, to despair, to anger, to hope. Its a superb performance. The film isn’t flawless. Its just a tad too long and there is some clunky editing at times. None of the three films can be said to contain very memorable action sequences because Nolan is not known to have great action sequences in his film until more recently, but the drama in the action negates that. Like, the Bane vs Batman fight where Bane breaks Batman, isn’t the greatest action scene in terms of fight choreography, but there is a lot weight to these characters which is what makes it incredibly compelling. Same is true to an extent for the climax at the end. When Batman beats Bane, I felt a sense of satisfaction after what I had witnessed in the previous fight. Overall, I genuinely feel that I love the last act of TDKR the most out of all three films. The Batplane, Batpod, and Tumbler chase scene was thrilling and it was cool to watch all three Bat vehicles in operation. The ending montage also ends the movie on a real uplifting note for all characters, which is very satisfying. I really love the movie. A 9/10.
It has to be said that Zimmer’s score across all three films contributes enormously to these movies. All in all, these set of movies are still my favorite superhero movies and my favorite Nolan movies till date.
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thatbanjobusiness · 4 years
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I want to briefly talk bluegrass fashion.
I appreciate and enjoy bluegrass from its roots to its present. I think creative growth over the decades has allowed for incredible and diverse music. Whether it’s disco influenced jamming, rock-bluegrass fusions, or classical music inspiration, there’s cool stuff to be had anywhere in the timeline. That said, one thing I wish contemporary bluegrass bands did more of was take fashion tips from the first generation bands.
In the 1920s, barn dance type radio programs featuring hillbilly music and rural style entertainment became popular. Some of these radio shows like the WLS National Barn Dance and WSM Grand Ole Opry had stage shows where you could watch the program in person. Costuming and presentation of the performing cast tended to be rough rube depictions, even caricatures, of rural people. George D. Hay, who founded and hosted the Grand Ole Opry, himself named the bands things like “The Gully Jumpers” and “The Possum Hunters.”
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But when Bill Monroe and his Blue Grass Boys auditioned and were made members of the Grand Ole Opry in October 1939, Monroe detested this rough presentation that could quickly engender degrading opinions of hillbilly stereotypes. He opted instead to dress in a more classy manner. His band came out in white shirts, ties, jodhpurs, and boots.
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This is something Bill Monroe bragged about even as the decades went on. For Monroe, it was important to dress well and in dignity when you got onstage. You respect yourself and you respect audiences when you come out in your best.
By the mid-1940s Bill Monroe’s band had accumulated a number of musical features that today our ears would recognize as bluegrass. It’s interesting to notice that bandmembers who left Monroe and went on to do their own bluegrass music often... took with them some of Bill’s ideas about stage presentation. Flatt & Scruggs, when they left Monroe and started their own band, are sometimes seen in early images wearing jodhpurs.
Early bluegrass bands on occasion might have had an “exception” to the rule. At the very least, you see this in Flatt & Scruggs in the late 1940s and first half of the 1950s. But I believe what they were doing reflected a trend that existed in the broader hillbilly music industry. I’d like investigate that more later to understand better. Unlike today’s concerts that involve music and only music, in those times, comedy was a more expected part of a show. White banjo performers, prior to bluegrass, were essentially all comedians; and in ensembles, someone (as I’ve often seen, the bass player) might take a comedy role. So you could’ve gotten a well-dressed band... and then the bassist dressed in comic rube garb.
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That said, each first generation bluegrass band ended up creating their own unique presentation. It’s variation around a theme: dress up nice to respect audiences and put your best foot forward. How you present yourself onstage has impact. Audiences aren’t coming out to see some tattered everyday person; they’re coming out here to listen to music stars.
And so you see bands and acts coordinating their outfits in classy ways like...
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(The 1958 screencap above doesn’t 100% evoke this, but I’ve noticed Flatt & Scruggs in the mid-50s through mid-60s would often do a 2-2-2 coordination. Everyone would wear hats. The band leaders would wear matching jackets and string ties. Two band members would wear the same collared shirts and the same string ties as the leaders. The last two band members, who were a duet and comedy team, would wear vests or different hats or some other distinguishing marker. Everyone’s clothes would carry the same overall color theme. Very well-thought out wardrobe presentation.)
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SEE? EVERYONE IS DRESSED UP AND LOOKS GOOD.
You can tell they’re an act. You can tell they’re professional. You can tell, the second they step up to perform, they mean business. It helps elevate them into STARS.
As new generations took up bluegrass, the social context of how to dress changed. The Folk Revival of the 1960s brought many Northerners, urban people, and hippies into the bluegrass world. I haven’t read up as much on this part of bluegrass history, but I believe it was starting here that new bluegrass ensembles quit thinking about dressing up to be onstage. I’ve certainly seen photos of the early bluegrass festivals of the late 60s and 70s, and some second generation bluegrass groups would wear extremely casual things onstage. Other groups would coordinate by wearing the same collared shirt, which meant they were matching, but also (to me) making less of a “statement.”
It makes sense. First generation bluegrass performers were seeking to dress to impress and get away from crappy hillbilly stereotypes. Later generations of bluegrass performers might not have been from the South or a country lifestyle at all, and would feel more inclined to try to evoke a “working class” vibe by wearing everyday or ragged clothing. Today, I feel many bands do this to evoke their own form of an authentic stage presentation.
This means that today, many groups wear rather casual clothing. I feel I see this especially in jamgrass. And for the record, these are all VERY talented, well-known ensembles; I’m not comparing pros to locals or something.
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And they’re dressed better here than what I’ve seen for bands at concerts.
I think it’s ironic that Bill Monroe, the Father of Bluegrass, sought to escape tattered clothing that actual country people wouldn’t wear on the fields, let alone onstage... only to have bluegrass musicians half a century later revert to costuming concepts Monroe had rejected. Today’s clothes of course aren’t the torn-up straw hat and single-strapped overalls of the early Opry, but it’s the same idea: dress down to look “country.” I don’t think there’s any objective disrespect to bluegrass’s history to dress like that, but I do think there’s a point that everyday clothes don’t make as much of an impression for your band.
Now of course not all groups have gone this route. In any generation of bluegrass, you still see bands that dressed more “traditionally.” But it’s certainly been a trend—since at least the 70s—to see bluegrass groups, either at the local or professional level, wearing everyday clothes. Get jeans, maybe some flannel, and you’re good to go. I see it oh-so-often now.
It doesn’t resonate as much to me. I get the point of their presentation, trying to evoke a casual non-mainstream working class image, but I feel there’s other ways you can set a vibe for your ensemble that doesn’t come off as lazy, everyday, or unnoticeable.
I’d be much more interested seeing:
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YEAH!!!!! YOU GO RHONDA VINCENT AND THE RAGE!
I think it’s interesting to see this mindset about proper bluegrass performance attire recur in interviews. I’ve watched a number of 2000s and 2010s interviews for first and early second generation bluegrass performers, and one common thing the old-timers complain about is how people don’t dress up anymore. They feel it doesn’t respect the audience or make a good impression for the ensemble. How you present yourself onstage is half of the performance; it can be an effective means of enhancing a show when you do it well.
And I’ve seen it in conversations with people like Steve Martin, showing how in the 2010s, there’s still negative “hillbilly” images to butt against:
INTERVIEWER: Does it bother you that quite possibly the most famous banjo song in pop culture is "Dueling Banjos" from "Deliverance"?
MARTIN: It doesn't bother me at all. Actually I might argue with that because another most famous song would be the theme from "The Beverly Hillbillies" or "Foggy Mountain Breakdown," the song from "Bonnie and Clyde." So there are a couple of 'most famous' banjo songs.
INTERVIEWER: But still… the theme song from "The Beverly Hillbillies"?
MARTIN: It's just something we have to face. And everything changes. That's why I always wear a suit and tie when I play bluegrass.
INTERVIEWER: Do you feel like you're helping changing the face of bluegrass?
MARTIN: I don't know. That's what I do when I go on stage. I don't make hillbilly jokes or things like that. I'm just playing it as the person I am, not pretending to be anything else. The band I play with, we all dress in suits and ties.
One of my favorite contemporary bands also has one of my favorite wardrobes. What they choose to wear is a huge element of their stage presentation, amplifies their show powerfully, and contributes to the entire vibe of their music product. Good costuming can be part of marketing, and they market themselves spectacularly.
The Dead South almost marries the best of both worlds between “dress up” and “dress as the everyday man.” Their clothes aren’t “formal” in the sense of suits and ties. There’s more casualness to it. At the same time, what they wear—blatantly Southern and Western gear that matches with variation across the band—isn’t something everyday Joe or Janet would put on to go to Walmart. It’s got a little more of a “period” feel to it while also being modern enough to feel authentic. Altogether, it makes them classy without being formally classy.
It’s perfect for them. This is a “controversially” bluegrass band who knows that, while they play string band music, its creative reach extends beyond what you’d expect of something labeled “bluegrass.” They have called themselves “a rock band without a drummer, a bluegrass band without a fiddler.” Elsewhere, they’ve marketed themselves as “a gold rush vibing four-piece acoustic set from Saskatchewan [that] infuse[s] the genre's traditional trappings with an air of frontier recklessness, whiskey breakfasts and grizzled tin-pan showmanship.” This is a band I’ve always said plays to a “degenerate” image, songs filled with cowboy shootouts, barfights, gun-wielding robberies, alcoholic nights, and more.
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And doesn’t their wardrobe evoke that spotlessly? There is CLASS and INTENTION with how they present themselves, to the point the band almost always stands in that order left-to-right, and has used their unique wardrobe choices for album covers and stage design.
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Check out how the stage’s stained glass window lights behind them evoke both images from their songs, and have the tie, beard, skull, string tie theme on them. Every band member stands in front of his respective window.
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That is *WAY* cooler, more effective, more impacting, more resonating, more memorable, more vibing, than simply tossing on my latest t-shirt. 
(And yes, the last photos are from when I went to their concert last year. One of the best concerts I’ve EVER been to, and it’s because they knew how to put on a SHOW.)
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Performance entails everything from the sounds you make to the personality you evoke to the clothes you wear. It’s why I prefer the first generation bluegrass bands’ approach to “dress well” over some modern string band trends. And again, bands like The Dead South show alternate ways you can dress up and rock out.
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csykora · 5 years
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hey i was reading your post about evgeny kusnetsov and alexander semin (the friendship necklace one) and i got into hockey somewhat recently but i've heard/read some things about sasha and i was wondering if you could give me a rundown/what your perspective is? you mentioned cultural assimilation, but also social class, ethnic identity, ability, neurodiversity, and trauma and i was really curious what exactly you were talking about??
First, that’s cool you’re getting into hockey! How’s that going? I hope you’re having fun. Second…thanks for making me reread my old writing as we come up on the New Year ;)
That was one of my very first posts, and I think it reads like it—I definitely wasn’t much of a sports writer back then, and (I don’t think) I tell stories quite the same way now.
I don’t think some of those words I used mean much, except that I was angry. So I’d like to spell out what made, makes, me angry. The first half of this is stuff I’ve said before, more organized, with jokes. The second half is not fun, but it’s also something I think NHL fans have a duty to think about. So I want to try to talk about Lokomotiv.
Sasha Semin is the star and captain of a quite good, more fun KHL team. Today he was named to the All-Star team, actually. KHL All-Stars is a magical place where the players sing acoustic covers and routinely set things on fire, so hopefully they’ll let him bring his sword.
(I love the KHL)
Before that, he was the cool big brother of a generation of Russian stars. In the early 2000s the first post-Soviet young players were coming of age and working out what post-Soviet, now-Russian style hockey was going to be. In that moment we got two spectacular players: Sasha from Siberia, and Sasha from Moscow.
The Soviet style of play was supposed to be egalitarian—players skated the opposition sick and pass-pass-passed, always giving it to a teammate instead of taking chances, until whoever happened to have it had a sure shot. The Alexanders grew up in that style, and they grew up fuck-off strong. They started feeding off all their teammates’ passes and beginning to gun down goalies with one of two shots: Alex Ovechkin had the one-timer, and Alex Semin had the best wristshot in the game.
Did you watch Vegas’ magic season? Pull some clips of Wild Bill Karlsson. Imagine if he had upper body strength but was just as light on his feet. That’s how inexplicably electric young Semin was.
His and then Ovi’s performances at World Juniors were so explosive they convinced American businesses to risk money on something new. Semin was oldest, and the Capitals kind of sucked, so they got him first. Then a few years later they still sucked, so they got Ovi too. Then the two of them got Nicklas Backstrom and matching line promise necklaces and played really good hockey together for a number of years.
(If anyone would like 3,000 more nicer words about the above subjects, @ me)
A couple things shaped what happened after that:
▪ Semin’s unique wrister, twisted to be almost as hard as a slapper, is like spending every night downing jägerbombs with a shot of carpal tunnel. He seems to have chronic wrist and hand problems from inflammation, with apparent flare-ups that sometimes got rest and sometimes didn’t. So that’s a factor—not the only, but a—in why he had periods of poor shooting.
▪ Either because he never really went to school or just because he’s wired that way, Semin seems to suck at math.
▪ Ovi’s hot stick and the Sid Incident (Sidcident?): 
In their first interview together, Ovi described him and Sid as “partners”, and Sid asked for Ovi’s shirt. But over the first few years the League swung from branding them as buddies to making money off a rivalry, and Don Cherry started a string of bitter conflicts with Ovi.
Local journalists who knew him wrote about seeing Ovi flinch in interviews. They described him starting to hesitate, pale, tired, doubling back over answers to make sure they were watertight. We now know from Tatyana Ovechina that he was spending a lot of nights on the phone back home with her, asking if he was letting everybody down.
Sasha, who’s basically that guy on twitter who found kittens in his sock drawer and adopted them all, but with little brothers, got protective. He told Russian media that he thought Sid was a good player, but not his favorite, and said that the way the League was pushing media attention could make someone a ‘star’ even if they weren’t that good. The phrase he used means “dead wood”, or boring, useless person. The grammar he used means something like “even if he were (ie, he isn’t)”.
I think this was objectively very funny. And I still hold that anyone saying the level of exposure Sid endured was good for him or anyone sounds like the stage parents on Toddlers & Tiaras.)
But people get protective of their person, and most won’t stop for a grammar lesson before deciding what they think something meant. There was a media blitz, mostly accusing Sasha of wanting the attention Sid got, which made sense, if you didn’t know Russian or two things about him—that he’s best friends with Alex Ovechkin, and that he’d only just started to practice English with local reporters after several years. If he were an egomaniac, he was bad at it.
From his reaction it seems like he hadn’t thought his comment was that wild, and wasn’t prepared for the backlash. Next time he talked to local reporters, he brought the translator back. Asked routine questions he’d been getting for a couple years, he flinched and turned to them to rehearse every word of his answer. Asked what was up with the translator, he said “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
Although teammates like Mike Knuble, Jeff Schultz, Backstrom and Ovechkin kept talking about his personable, joking side, and we’d see it plenty in practice, he started insisting to reporters that he didn’t know English and that he was boring anyway, claiming “I’m just an ordinary person, just like everybody else. The only difference is I’m out there on the ice and that’s it. I’d just rather talk about hockey.”
–> Without math or English, Semin’s career depended on his agent, Mark Gandler.
Try not to depend on Mark Gandler.
As the Globe and Mail put it, “to many Canadian hockey fans, Mark Gandler is nothing less than the Prince of Darkness.”
Mark Gandler’s business was based on presenting himself as a friendly face to young Russian athletes, and pissing of NHL franchises. I’m pro-pissing off the NHL in general; my problem with Gandler is that if he was sincerely trying to get the best deal for him clients, he was bad at it..
When anyone talks about something Semin decided, they’re talking about what Gandler decided for him. Semin was honest with the media that he had no fucking clue what Gandler was asking for in negotiations. The Caps and Gandler couldn’t agree on anything, so while Ovechkin was locked down for life, Semin was only ever signed to one and two year bridge contracts, constantly up, his performance a constant subject of discussion and every wobble obvious.
Note: the following is the bit where I got angry and A. asked why the hell I was looking at photos of this and told me to go lie on the floor and do my butterfly exercises for a while.
One year Semin’s game really sucked. It didn’t help that Ovechkin was sucking too—they both got benched, Coach got fired, and still the Capitals just kind of sucked. Around the league, Russian stars were mostly fizzling. That was the 2011-2012 season. 
On September 7, 2011, the airplane carrying the Lokomotiv Yaroslavl team, coaching staff, and four youth players had overrun the runway, struck a signal tower, crashed, and caught fire moments after takeoff. Every member of the team onboard was killed.
I can’t understand, so certainly can’t explain, how that day changed the community. I’m not trying to speculate too much on anyone’s personal situation, but to point out how much more profound it was than just some other league’s trivia.
I don’t think there’s a mainstream North American parallel for the hockey community in Eastern Europe. Players are raised in a small number of hockey schools, often at that time in dormitories like the one where Semin lived in Chelyabinsk. While young North Americans are quite strictly separated by age, the Russians are growing up with older and younger kids from the same school all around them. Older teens are encouraged to mentor younger ones—Kuznetsov’s attachment to Semin is endearing, but not really so weird. Stanislav Yarushin is several years older than Sasha, and he befriended him, and then down to Kuz. In a community like that, any one person is intimately connected to the others.
From the coaches to the rookies, someone from three generations across nine nations was killed in the disaster. Each of them was connected not only to their peers, but to players older and younger than them, and to the city that raised them. Every Russian, Czech, and Slovak in the NHL lost at least one person they knew deeply.
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Just that spring, Kuznetsov won gold at World Juniors with a little clique of friends. Vladimir Tarasenko, Artemi Panarin, and Dmitry Orlov are stars now, and two of the others are dead.
Kuznetsov is the one draped in the flag. #14, with the awesome hair, smiling, is Danylo Sobchenko. #12, reaching up towards the cup, is Yuri Urychev. Urychev had been injured, and supposed to stay home the day of the disaster, but he asked to be allowed to fly with them, so he could cheer for his friends.
Tarasenko himself was born in Yaroslavl, and his father played for Lokomotiv; he knew even more of the team, and if he’d taken a hometown offer instead of signing with Sibir, he would have died that day too.
The thing about a loss like this is that it keeps budding with new losses. It hadn’t been a problem with the plane, or a freak accident. Over the following month a miserable investigation revealed that the airline had fudged documents, and the pilots just didn’t know what they were doing. So as well as losing friends, the younger players lost any trust that people in authority were going to keep them safe in the future.
After the disaster, Ovechkin, Semin, and Malkin had to hold their phones waiting while Alexander Galimov (a friend from nationals) was found with burns over 80% of his body, stabilized, transported, placed in a medically-induced coma and ventilated. He finally died five days later. The day he died Tarasenko and Kuznetsov and all the others got back on their own planes and kept playing, so the NHLers just had to keeping waiting up for them, too. Now Tarasenko and Kuznetsov have little brothers on those planes. They’re better fucking planes now, because the disaster changed Russian law, but they’re still not great.
In a grim way, Semin and Ovechkin were lucky, because they had each other. At the time almost no NHL team had as many Eastern Europeans as the Caps, meaning almost all the others were alone.
Of course it just wasn’t possible for the North American public to grieve with them the way that Europe did, but how quickly it was boxed away and forgotten as a factor in players’ lives just…sucks.
You don’t just grieve somebody when you lose them; people who aren’t sure what to say will say it fades with time, but what it really does is rise and fall in waves. You grieve them when you lose them, and again when you’re as old as they were and realize how insufficient it really was, and again, when you’re older than they’ll ever be, when you’re old enough to see children their age. Like injuring your wrist, you can get back to work, but never back to exactly what you were before. 
Five years later, when Tarasenko scored his 100th goal, he dedicated it to Sobchenko and Urychev. 
Most of a decade later, Alex Ovechkin wears the Lokomotiv crest on his chest protector, over his heart.
So if we know all that, we can start to imagine why they sucked at hockey.
Actually, after a slow start to the season, Sasha sucked the least of all the Capitals. Always a stronger possession player than Ovechkin, Sasha actually recovered after the Caps brought in Dale Hunter, who ripped up the Goals First, Goals Always game plan and tried to make Ovi play defense. Sasha ended the season with the best possession metrics on the team (yes, including Nicke Backstrom). 
His goal-scoring didn’t recover, but that was because Coach Dale was basically treating him like Ovi’s security blanket, putting him on the second line with Mojo so Ovi couldn’t cuddle him until Ovi backchecked. Mojo (this is a Science fact) is not Nicke Backstrom.
The reason the Capitals traded Semin is they desperately needed to trade someone to make up for the team’s collective failures that year, he could be traded due to his shitty contracts, and he was worth trading. 
I’m not actually angry the Caps traded Semin. It made sense. I am mad the Habs did, because it was one of many decisions made by Marc Bergevin coughing up a heavily-gelled hairball on a depth chart, but hey.
Sports is hard. I don’t mean that teams should keep players who aren’t playing the way that team needs them to out of sympathy. I mean that it’s possible to say that Semin or Ovechkin sometimes play badly without saying they don’t care. It’s possible to name a practical problem without making it a moral one.
Because when we see someone not doing what we want, and we make it moral, we say, “well gosh, I can’t imagine a reason why they aren’t jazzed to do what I want right now, so there can’t be a reason, they just suck,” we’re always wrong, because we miss shit!
In 2011, the common complaint that Russian players “don’t seem to care” went from boring to breathtakingly cruel. 
It’s a collective failure of empathy, where a lot of us didn’t even know that empathy’s needed. How many NHL fans don’t know Lokomotiv existed? If we don’t even know what weight another person’s carrying, we can’t possibly judge them rightly! 
The athletes we’re watching aren’t just cartoon characters for American consumption, who always act and react in easily-readable ways. They’re people with beliefs, behaviors, and problems which might be meaningfully different from what we’re personally familiar with and really hard to sympathize with.  
But when we see someone struggling to do what we want them to, we have to wonder why, and look around to learn more about moments like this, and then offer empathy. I believe that if we have information, most people use it to be kind. So we really fucking need historical information.
I’m back on the floor and don’t have a closer, so here’s a picture of a cat with big mitts like Sasha. His name is Peppers.
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after-lauhgter · 4 years
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Hey dude, I really like your music taste so do all the music questions that you didn't already answer 🌚
OK DUDE HERE THEY COME (except 1,6 & 14) ... ok lets do number 1 again  What's a song you've been listening to a lot lately? as the world caves in by Matt Maltese, if I get high by nothing but thieves, and literally anything off waterparks’ new live album, that thing makes me feel so ALIVE bc like LIVE MUSIC  Is there an album you recently discovered and are obsessed with it now? well waterparks live in the uk obviously but if the last 6 months count as recently, then the new abnormal by the strokes. its... absolutely breathtaking. I don't have words. 0 words. except these dudes know what the fuck they’re doing. and then I found the devil and god are raging inside me by brand new and jeeesus. literally Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ was my most played song in 2020 AS IT SHOULD BE bc its EVERYTHING this album is THE SHIT. every song is just *chef kiss* like there's limousine (omg limousine) and you won't know and not the sun and AHH listen to these albums omg  Put your playlist on shuffle and show the first 10 songs. No cheating. i assume “your playlist” means all my saved songs so Topography by Civilian (pls go listen its SO great) Na Na Na by mcr yees issa classic  Du schreibst Geschichte by Madsen omg geeerman  just saying by EDEN (pretty pretty pretty) Westerland von den Ärzten another classic  letdown by nothing,nowhere. sad but the good kind of sad  The Man by the killers making fun of toxic masculinity gives me LIFE  Graffiti by CHVRCHES YES  and death stranding by CHVRCHES too YES SO GOOD simmer by Hayley Williams, a queen  How do you tend to discover new music? If you do at all of course I do enjoy what Spotify suggests, like my weekly mix brought a lot of bops in the past, although sometimes it just sucks lets be real. I also like the artist- or album-radio, when I wanna find something similar to an album but not the album.  and another thing I lovvve is when artists I like recommend music, for example, have you seen dallon weekes instagram stories? THE TASTE? bc yes, someone who writes music like that MUST have a superior taste in music and he fucking does. 
What app do you mostly use to listen to music? Spotify :) Is there an artist that you feel ashamed of listening too? I can't think of anyone so probably not  What is your favorite album cover art? omg. I have to go with more than one. so there's where the mind wants to go/where you let it go by I the mighty, one of my favorite albums of all time, and I'm going to say it how it is, I LIKE THE COLORS. the blue-ish imagine with the red omg. look at it pls.  Also fandom by waterparks looks SO COOL. again the COLORS  and I love the art for Isola by Kent.  I recently discovered you wouldn't believe what privilege costs by civilian and I think that cover is pretty cool too.  well and then there's petals for armor by Hayley Williams, the cover art is so fucking powerful Jesus I get goosebumps just thinking about it. in case you don't know about it, long story short: there's been a lot of shit going on in Hayleys life in the past. relatable imo. then they made after laughter and its been like u know what fuck it we’ll just laugh and dance through the pain. together. and I LOVED the vibe omg it gave me so much. but for Hayley it kinda postponed REALLY dealing with shit. she came home from touring with AL and she also got divorced during the AL era and everything's shit and out of all that came petals for armor. and in it she reclaims femininity, being alone, being powerful, being a women, everything. and ah yeah we were talking about the cover art, the cover is her, having a line of squares on her face, three of these squares are tattooed on her fingers though bc its where her ex husbands initials used to be that she got covered up. WHAT A MOVE. THE POWER.  (if anyone is interested in hearing Hayley talking about/explaining all this, I really recommend watching her interview with zane Lowe. its SO GOOD basically free therapy) How much did your parents influence your music taste? a. lot. my dad listened to a lot of “dad rock” you may call it, I guess a lot of dads listened to stuff similar to this. Deep Purple, the police, simple minds, Green Day, Billy Talent, the scorpions and things like that. what influenced me the most tho was the beatsteaks (german band, very good), die Ärzte (german band, very good) and LAST BUT NOT LEAST the fricking blues brothers. my favorite movie (not the 2000 remake, go watch that in hell where it belongs), a great, charismatic band, unbelievable live performances. very big WOW from me.  Do you own any vinyl? don't get me started omg. I DO. I wish I could take a photo but my records are at my parents house so ill just name my favorites.  -after laughter and brand new eyes by paramore -violent things by the brobecks and their song boring on 7inch (this is very rare ok) -razzzzmatazzz by idkhow in gold :) -may death never stop you by mcr (my first one, I bought it first and then bought a record player for it, that's how it started lol) -omg the black parade is dead by mcr, this was never available on vinyl until record store day 2019 (?) and I hunted that bitch like idek what it was insane but I found a super cute small record store and the owner didn't have copies of it bc NOBODY DID but he fucking CALLED THE LABEL even though it was way too late and he asked if they'd send him a copy and THEY DID I FUCKING OWE THIS MAN  -and omg Isola by Kent (in Swedish tho bc the English version was never pressed on vinyl) this was intense. I searched for like 2 weeks and then, on google results page 8 or something, I found what could've been the only copy on the damn internet and it was very expensive but its MINE NOW -my signed vertigo vinyl by EDEN, its clear and on side D it doesn't have music but a little message engraved it the vinyl IT IS CUTe -Placebos MTV unplugged! I am so I love with this album. SO. in love. and one day, when I was in Berlin to see palaye royale, back when we had concerts, I walked by a random record store and they have like 4 records left bc they were closing or idk and the only one displayed in the window was this one. tell me about FATE  Do you own any cds? not many. sometimes when im at the store and I see ones I know or like, I just buy them and put them in me moms car bc I want her to listen to them. or when I find a cd by a smaller artist I enjoy, I buy it just to push the nachfrage. HI i am HERE and I WANT this music  Is vinyl really better than listening on a digital device? im not gonna be that middle aged white male audiophile that hates on our generation for using Spotify. bc its great. I think its just different. I mean im sorry I don't carry my record player on the bus with me, pls forgive me for using my phone? having immediate access to most of the music that is out there? wow. what a concept. I love the internet. YES TECHNOLOGY. but. vinyls are... different. I feel likes its a different kind of listening. I feel like youre rly LISTENING. and that way isn't better, or right, and im not saying it works like this for everyone. but when I put a record on, my only activity at that moment is listening to music, I sit down and I listen. to the entire album. so skips and no pauses, bc that's how it works. and I think that sometimes, that can do a lot for you. if you let it.  and besides that, physically owning a record makes me happy on a level nothing else really does. fuck I love music so much and when I fall in love with it, I fall hard. and then owning a copy of it, something I can touch, something that is MINE, putting it in my little shelf, looking at it every few days and just being in love? fantastic feeling.  What is a genre of music that you tend to go to for comfort? sad shit. I feel like I can get great comfort from the sad shit. or maybe just slow shit. and songs that mean a lot to me and have been around me for some time, they have this other level of comfort. like for Emma, forever ago by bon iver for example. I have a playlist, maybe I'll reblog this again and link it ;) Do you tend to like poppy upbeat songs, or more intricate and interesting songs? both. sometimes I wanna have complicated stuff and analyze the shit out of lyrics and instrumentation, sometimes I just wanna v i b e If you have a favorite band or artist, tell us about how you got into them I liked paramore before but when they posted the video of them performing last hope at reading? it was over. when Hayley sang the bridge it was over. now im a die hard fan and I never looked back Is there a song that came out this year that you like? maybe after reading all this shit you expected a list but somehow I can't. where do u even start. but the answer is definitely yes.  THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING I COULD GO ON FOR DAYS 
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peremadeleine · 5 years
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JCS: The 50th Anniversary Tour
My dad and I just saw the touring 50th anniversary production of Jesus Christ Superstar! We both grew up with the music and know it like the backs of our hands, so frankly our expectations were high.
It was...amazing.
A long, detailed, scene-by-scene discussion under the cut!
As the overture stars to play, the lights come up slowly and you realize that you can see the band--the actual rock band--on the second level of the set. They weren’t highly visible, not intrusive, but we both thought that was so cool. True to the spirit of what is, after all, a rock opera.
The cast came out, during the overture, from two of the audience doors in the orchestra and began hopping up on stage. Also very cool--we weren’t the only ones leaning forward in the balcony to look!
Full disclosure, Judas is my favorite character, so “Heaven on their Minds” is a make-or-break moment for me. Didn’t love all of his delivery, but Judas still sold it. (He clearly took a lot of inspo from Carl Anderson.) He was trying to reach Jesus both emotionally and physically without being weird and clingy (a la the terrible 2000 movie).
Ciaphas and Annas were both Perfect. Annas was an annoying little shit who sounded a lot like Geddy Lee--the lead singer from Rush--and Ciaphas had a deep, menacing, beautiful baritone just right for the part.
Though Simon’s performance was not quite as passionate as I would’ve liked, his voice was wonderful. Probably the best strictly vocal rendition of “Simon Zealotes” I’ve ever heard.
Really liked the way the Temple scene was set up...I would’ve liked it more if they’d given Jesus some prop to interact with/throw around, but the glittery/seedy feel of the scene contrasted perfectly with the low-key, muted set design up to that point.
This was the first scene where Jesus actually caught my attention. His delivery of “my Temple should be a house of prayer!” was a real show-stopper--as it ought to be.
The Lepers sequence was clearly overwhelming/stressful for Jesus without being too unpleasant (that’s always how I remember it from the ’73 movie) for the audience. As with “Hosanna,” though, I would have liked a slightly bigger ensemble to magnify the power of the scene.
Mary’s voice was lovely. She played “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” a little bit delicately, and there wasn’t much for her to do--Jesus was sleeping way off to side of the stage--so I think it could’ve been just a little more powerful, emotionally speaking, but again, her voice was very pretty.
When Judas, beckoned forward by Ciaphas, takes his reward for betraying Jesus from a chest at the end of “Damned for All Time,” his hands become stained silvery-white. As the show progressed the silver paint crept up his arms almost to his shoulders. A small prop would’ve been hard to see, anyway, so the Lady Macbeth-style staining of his hands was easily visible from our seats as well as perfect visual symbolism.
During the Last Supper scene, the apostles re-purpose the cross-shape platform in the middle of the stage as a table. They all froze in poses reminiscent of Da Vinci’s painting (as in the ’73 film) while Jesus sang his solemn lines about consuming his body and blood.
This was the scene that most explicitly explored the bond between Jesus and Judas. At the beginning of the scene, Jesus comes up behind Judas and wraps him in a cloak. Later, an obviously-distraught Judas kneels at the edge of the stage and gazes with desperate hope at his friend, even reaching for Jesus’ hand with his stained one. He wants Jesus to stop him, to keep him there--but of course, he’s sent away to betray him.
More disclosure: “Gethsemane” is my favorite song from the show. It’s raw, it’s angry, it’s powerful. I watched a video of the actor playing Jesus performing an acoustic version in a studio and was not impressed, and so far I was on the fence about his on-stage Jesus, which lacked a little bit of the “drama queen” (or, I guess, the “superstar”) element I expect from JCS!Jesus. tl;dr This was THE big make-it-or-break-it moment of the show for me...
Oh, ye of little faith, Luth! All the hesitance and just-good-enough vocals went out the window; he sang with passion and power and conviction, improving steadily as the song reaches its climax. He didn’t try to imitate the vocal wizardry of Ian Gillan, but he hit the high note (“see how I die”) and held it.
At one point he ripped off his shirt and threw the microphone stand against another set piece in his anger, fear, and despair, which I thought was a nice visual for the audience.
I realized, by the end of the song, when the audience erupted into cheers/applause and my dad leaned over to whisper “He nailed it!” that there were tears in my eyes. I was actually crying! And I was so happy, despite my tears, because this Jesus had finally overcome my months-long misgivings and now I could enjoy the rest of the show for what it would be,
Pilate is usually played by an older man, sometimes in over-the-top flamboyant (often purple) costumes. Not so here. This Pilate was the image of a punk rocker in black leather, and he was young, and he was a certifiable rock star! What a voice!  He was the only one my dad “whooped” for at the curtain call.
Confession time...I’ve never truly seen the need for “Herod’s Song,” catchy as it is. But seeing the show live, the audience was into it. They clearly needed one wacky comic number. And boy was this one wacky. Very well-done, kind of had a cabaret aesthetic with Herod in a silver leotard and sparkly black boots.
Everyone clapped between Judas’ confrontation with the priests and his reprise of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him,” which meant the slow, sad beginning of said reprise was drowned out a little. Boo. It’s one of the most moving songs in the show. (“Does he love...does he love me too? Does he care for me? Oh!”) That said, the tension in the audience was palpable (or maybe it was just me) when Judas climbs the stairs and strings up his rope. Just the rope dropped as the lights went down, so it was tastefully done, but all I felt was dread. Which is the point, I imagine.
The ensemble did a great job of realistically haranguing and guilt-tripping Pilate until he abandoned his logical stance that Jesus had done nothing deserving of death and gave into their demands. The best use of the ensemble in the entire show.
I always skip the 39 lashes when I listen at home. They did it very symbolically--throwing “glitter bombs” of a sort at Jesus every time Pilate counted a lash so that he was covered in gold tinsel by the end of it--and it made it bearable to watch, though still tense.
When the instrumental hook of “Superstar” plays after the trial and before the actual song “Superstar,” Judas comes back out on stage and places the crown of thorns on Jesus’ head. An interesting choice. It certainly got me right in the feels.
Would have liked a bit more one-on-one interaction between J&J during “Superstar,” maybe a new costume for Judas, but otherwise a good performance of that, too.
That’s where I always end my listen...but of course the show ends with the crucifixion. Of course that’s never going to be a pleasant scene, is it? It was, again, fairly tastefully done, with Jesus ending up back-lit on the cross.
The final image of the show was also the single-most powerful one:  the rest of the stage was still dark, with Judas* sitting at the foot of the cross gazing up at the still-backlit Jesus. Reader, I wept.
*it occurred to me that it MIGHT have been Mary--the stage was dark, and our seats were pretty high-up...but I prefer the symbolism of it being Judas.
The set was very minimalist, with two unadorned two-story platforms on either side of the long, much shorter protruding cross-shaped platform. It worked for me. (Much better than the weird “industrial” look they went for in the live TV special.)
The costumes were hit-or-miss, but I did like the simplicity of the design. It was quite monochromatic, with Jesus and the apostles (and Mary) mostly in white or beige, Pilate in black, and Judas appropriately in gray. (There were some much-appreciated pops of color during the Last Supper sequence, when the apostles wrapped themselves in red and blue cloaks; and some glitter/sparkle added visual interest in the Temple, Herod, and Trial scenes.)
I could probably say more, including about what I didn’t like as much--there were a few things!--but I’ll save that for another post. Bless you if you actually read all that.
As sad as I am that I didn’t get to see the 2012 Broadway revival, I’m so glad I got to see this.
If you are a fan of Jesus Christ Superstar and have the means, I HIGHLY encourage you to check out the tour if it comes to a city near you. It may not be the greatest production of this show ever staged, but it’s very entertaining, respectful of the material, musically excellent--and it blows that televised one from 2018 out of the water! All in all, just a wonderful tribute for JCS’s 50th anniversary.
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helisol · 5 years
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ye s, well
it basically came to me like a prophet receiving a vision from an angry god. you know. like brian david gilberts video ideas but with more slow burn.
no really i wrote all this down in my phone’s note app because some nearly coherent things popped up in my head every time i was on the train or bus these last few days.
(after-actually-writing-this disclaimer/note: this is 2000 words of slightly edited rambling about Bagginshield in the Afterlife. i had to put it in a read more.)
so the gist of it
the botfa goes just as in the movie with minor details altered. like bilbo kissing thorin just before he dies which inadvertently causes a ripple in time and space that makes the valar curious of them both. you know. minor stuff.
so bilbo goes back to the shire, the war of the ring goes down, and the hobbit/elf gang sails to valinor at the end. classic stuff, not much alternating of universes here.
but here’s where things turn into the “my city now” meme because DUDE DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT VALINOR AND HOW THE AFTERLIFE WORKS
like, I’m sorry mister jolkien rolkien tolkien, but just putting people into a hall to await being judged like a hospital waiting room? snooze, that’s boring!
so first of all, and you can fight me on this, Yavanna Made The Hobbits And You Can’t Change My Mind.
it just makes sense for her to have been very saddened by the destruction of literally all her work on arda through melkor’s poison, so she made living, growing things that could protect themselves from harm. as opposed to the ents, by the way, which were made by Eru to protect all the other living, growing things. it was a nice gesture of Eru to make those, but not quite what Yavanna wanted or had in mind, i imagine.
as with the dwarves, Eru wasn’t all happy about the existence of another race he didn’t make but you know, whatever, ‘I’ll just let this married couple have their own kids aside from mine, it’s okay’.
so he hands both the dwarves and the hobbits independent thought and free will, but under the condition (and here is where the afterlife stuff comes into play) that Aule and Yavanna be responsible for their mortal creations after their death. meaning that both races have seperate afterlives from the halls of mandos, MEANING THAT ITS COMPLETELY FINE FOR AULE AND YAVANNA TO BE LIKE “oh look honey, these two are so very in love and remind me of us, shan’t we do something about that?”
so. they do something about that. more precisely, they rearrange their afterlife-realms so they’re next to each other and someone with enough willpower could cross through the barrier. because listen, they’re valar, they can do whatever they want just for kicks.
okay so after that tangent lets get back to the meat of the matter: gay dwarves. I know not everyone has read Sansukh, a 500k word mammoth of a fic, and I don’t really intend to copy any of det’s canon, but their version of The Halls of Mahal really inspired me. basically the dwarven afterlife is one big hunk of a mountain/underground city where they’re free to live their days until dagor dagorath doing what they do best in the company of their families and friends; like smithing, crafting, building and other JustDwarrowThings.
meanwhile the hobbit afterlife is Basically The Shire and instead of being given the materials to build things, all the hobbits who go there get to grow plants and do their gardening. they don’t have to- just like none of the dwarves have to craft stuff- since there’s always enough food for everyone, but they are just allowed to do what they do best if they so desire.
now when Bilbo arrived in the undying lands he was still Old As Hell and im sorry to put it this way, he definitely kicked the can after like, a week of living there. not really so undying, them lands, huh. anyway Bilbo bites the dust and LOOK AT THAT he’s suddenly young again, and another LOOK AT THAT he’s standing in a very comfy, but Not Quite Bag End hobbit hole that has a note hung up on the front door. you wouldn’t think gods could have handwriting but hey, again, they’re gods they can do whatever. the note just tells him that yavannah made this place special and just for Bilbo but that there’s another home waiting for him. very cryptic there, lady. he doesn’t leave at first because hey, his family is here. there’s a lot of reunions and celebrating and food because its the fucking hobbit afterlife, what else would you expect
it takes him a few days of Regular Hobbit Life in his new home to realise ‘holy shit, this is so boring’ so what does a Fool of a Took do when things get boring and there’s a note urging him to do something?
HE’S GOING ON AN ADVENTURE
so Bilbo runs through the whole not-shire, meeting all sorts of people he outlived on the way (looking at you, Lobelia), as well as some elves. because elves can definitely just waltz through all the afterlives. they can walk on top of snow, you think they wouldn’t walk around wherever they please in valinor? rip to mankind, but they’re different.
he gets to the furthest reaches of it eventually, and lo and behold, what awaits him but the view of a tall mountain, an invisible barrier and a very flustered Thorin who is at his wits end as to how Bilbo even got here.
now for thorin’s part of the story we’ll have to start after the botfa again. he basically woke up in the darkness like an episode of naked and afraid, and started talking to Aule. his maker, who loves him to bits by the way since he made thorin, just tells him he’s free to go wherever his heart takes him. again with the cryptic messages from the gods.
so thorin, still very self-loathing and bitter because of his actions right before his death, sees this as Mahal’s way of saying ‘please don’t step foot in my halls u disgusting litle creacher’, when really he just meant ‘please do some well deserved self reflecting and then come inside to be with your family, they all miss you terribly’.
after his chat with the maker thorin just spawns in right at the front gate of the mountain and he has a choice to make. go inside or stay outside. and we all know Thorin’s proclivity for drama so he basically spends LITERAL YEARS just living in self imposed solitary confinement.
oh also tiny hc here, thorin was said to have taken “any work offered to him in the towns of men”, and they showed him in a smithy, but personally I believe they meant it when they said “any kind of work”. so basically thorin is a jack of all trades, master of some. he definitely has master-level skills in certain areas though, enough to build a vaguely hobbit-hole shaped house. why is it hobbit hole shaped?
oh right, the part where Thorin is absolutely enamoured with Bilbo.
"Go back to your books and your armchair, plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”- HELLO? GAY POLICE? I’D LIKE TO REPORT A CASE OF ‘DWARF KING REALISING THAT THE HOBBIT WAY OF LIVING IS A REALLY GREAT ONE IN CONCEPT / WISHING HE COULD HAVE HAD THAT KIND OF LIFE WITH BILBO’
anyway it’s a long 80 years until Thorin does get to meet Bilbo again, and in the meantime we have one of my favorite additions to any Hobbit fanfic ever: Frerin
For the uninitiated, Frerin is Thorin’s brother. They also have a sister, Dís, but Tolkien never specified when she died and she was a bit younger than Thorin and Frerin so I reckon she’d still be alive as an old dwarf lady somewhere?
Anyway, Frerin. Oh boy. Sansukh, again, does an excellent job at turning Frerin into a character with a level of authenticity that gets real fucking close to Genuine Tolkien™, so most of my own characterisation of Frerin is based on that in Sansukh. With the important omission of the dwarves not being able to see the present/their still alive loved ones in middle earth through a magic mirror pool.
so Frerin takes it upon himself to leave the mountain in search of his brother because he really does want him back. but also because Mahal has had it with Thorin’s antics and suggests Frerin fetch him so he can finally reunite with his family. Mahal doesn’t talk to the dwarves a lot because he’s like an awkward and distant dad, but he does actually speak to them.
so Thorin is supposed to go see his family, which he does, but not immediately. it takes like, a solid year of just brotherly (and sister-sonly) companionship for him to open up about all his anxieties and regrets and THEN he goes into the mountain to cry in his mother’s lap. as you do.
however Thorin still feels like he doesn’t 100% belong with the other dwarves in there, so he frequently spends long stretches of time outside, building away at his house, thinking about Bilbo. the company goes out to visit him sometimes.
more details on the house tho, cuz it’s Important; it’s built halfway into a hill near the mountain, like a proper hobbit hole would be, but the lower levels are built into stone. look, he’s had 80 years to work on constructing this. it’s near perfect in every way for both hobbit and dwarf standards and could definitely fit the entire company and more inside.
now about the barrier. elves can pass through without a second thought because they’re shiny little bastards who just get to do all the cool stuff, but the other races can’t just hop between realms like that; they really have to muster up the willpower. which usually means they can’t do it because a drawback for both dwarves and hobbits is that they favor isolation from other races even in death, and as such don’t want to mingle with each other.
unless you’re Bilbo Badass Baggins though, who simply runs through the barrier to yell at Thorin for leaving him sad and alone for 80 years. he is that bitch.
there’s gonna be some legolas and gimli shenanigans if i can fit them in (cuz i dont know when exactly they sailed west together), possibly a mention of tauriel because bruh peter jackson did us dirty by not giving her any closure besides ‘lol i guess she’s banished from mirkwood??’ and Mairon. because. I also have some thoughts about him.
also Fili and Kili as pseudo matchmakers because every fic needs that
and did I mention there’s gonna be hozier lyrics for chapter titles
i said this was the gist of it but i somehow ended up at ~1900 words. well, more power to me.
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stonerbughead · 4 years
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Maria watches friday night lights (#9)
I really really loved 3x10! Like one of my favorite episodes so far, for sure. so here’s another post about just one episode, “The Giving Tree.”
@lockitin I saw your comment saying I’d like this episode like an hour after I watched! You were very right!
-Aw I love Julie and Tyra’s friendship. Julie trying to help Tyra strategize on how to catch up in school after her ill-advised trip with the cowboy — that’s what we love to see!
-this flirtatious girl (later, we learn, MADISON) insisting on pouring milk into a wine glass for JD is up there as one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen happen in a teen drama party scene
“Do you need silence to watch naked women? Is that what you’re saying to me?” The things that come out of Buddy Garrity’s mouth are truly wild.
-oh boy and then Buddy got into a getting-arrested level fight! Wish I could say I was surprised, but...
ANYWAY MATT AND JULIE DO IT NOW yet they’re still so fucking cute it’s wild
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-I am truly HERE for Matt and Julie post coital and naked, just laying in his bed after school saying “I love you” while listening to the radio and HOLDING HANDS?? This is so beautiful.
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-so of course, here comes Coach Taylor to walk in on them. Honestly this scenario kind of like NEEDED to happen? Inevitably? I mean, “quarterback sleeping with the coach’s daughter,” as Riggins said. (And now it’s finally actually true.) The comedy of Eric just walking right back out the house, stone-faced. Oh I am living.
-Hahahaha Landry’s bandmates exchanging looks while Tyra comes to ask Landry for help with the SATs. This show does such a good job of actually conveying teens being teens in little moments like this.
-oh yes to the Lyla/Julie tooth brushing scene where she confides what happened with her dad walking in on her and Matt!! then transitioning right into Tami brushing her teeth while Eric sits on the side of the bed, pained and disturbed by his teenage daughter’s burgeoning sexuality. Cinematic.
-what I love about this episode is how well crafted the plot is — Eric only catchs Matt and Julie because he had to pick Julie up so Tami could tell Lyla about Buddy’s night in jail. and Eric clearly showed up earlier than Tami would have. After all, they thought they had time for one more song. It’s just...such good writing. Ugh! Yes.
-I love how this development actually left Tami speechless too, when usually she’d be running into Julie’s room with exactly the right words to say
-I really do love how this plot lines up so that Lyla is in the Taylor house to comfort Julie.
“Your punishment is you have to have a conversation with me about it.” Fair, Tami, fair. Bc there should not be a punishment at all for a teenage girl having consensual sex with a boy she loves!
-Did Buddy really just plead not guilty??? Sir you did all of the things they just charged you with!!!!
-Tyra’s mom immediately wanting Landry to change the pilot light when she sees him in the house helping Tyra is....too real. Also reminds me of Lorelai joking about how she liked how Dean would change the water bottle in Gilmore girls
-fuck you buddy!!!! Why would you gamble your daughters college money??? Related: I love how betty cooper had a similar plotline to Lyla garrity here but in the Riverdale version her mom gave the $$ to a cult
“Please tell me the lesson we’ve learned.” “Always lock the door.” “...when having sex with the coach’s daughter.” HAHAHAHA omg this show is so good, having Eric glance at Saracen in the locker room to see his eyes downcast. That’s that shit we like.
-I’m proud of Landry in this episode standing up for himself bc Tyra was totallyyy taking advantage of him. Like she expects him to ditch his bandmates bc she wants to take a break and lengthen their study session which he’s doing as a favor to her??
-oh yes and the Giving Tree metaphor! Amazing. Art.
“That’s exactly what I feel like, just a stump.” Damn. I felt that.
“What about birth control?” “I don’t want to talk about that!” “Hon, that IS the conversation.” Damn right it is! Tami is a good mom.
“Chasin skirts,” Mr. McCoy? You’re gross. Ew and now he’s literally trying to control his son’s love life. Disgusting.
-Julie’s long pause after Tyra asks if Landry is right about how she’s the little boy in the Giving Tree. I cackled.
MATT SARACEN IS TERRIFIED IM DEAD
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-I CACKLED at the fear in his eyes when Tami suggest he wait in the back with Coach Taylor
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-Lol at coach aggressively cleaning his grill while lecturing Saracen, who is literally one of the most mild mannered and sweet boys you could ever want your daughter to lose her virginity to tbh. Especially if it’s gonna be a football player.
-ugh Lyla I’m sorry your dad is so trash. Riggins is sweet and hot though. “What do you want me to do?” he says when Buddy bangs at the door. He respects her wishes. We stan.
“I was the idiot who stuck with you! Don’t call me spoiled. We’ve been saving that money since I was a baby. You said if I made the grades, it was mine.” GO OFF LYLA this is cathartic to watch. Also LOL I have mad student loans now bc my dad the cheater similarly lied about our financial situation for most of my life so that hit HARD for me. 😭😬🥺 I sent Lyla’s rant to my mom and she said lol did you write those words
-omg Tim at the door being like “you need to go” to Buddy?!?! Oops I’m aroused.
-oh god poor JD is actually listening to his dad and breaking things off with Madison?? Fuck man. That is so not cool. But wait there’s more! Riggins called him on it right away, we love him. “How do you expect all these boys to battle for you if you can’t make a decision like that on your own?” YES Riggins! Now that’s some good team captain mentoring shit! With the ear buds in one ear. Ugh yes.
-I’m surprised we haven’t gotten angry Coach Taylor chasing a ref sooner. “HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT”
-I love how Coach Taylor said “we’re gonna not lose our temper out there” about the refs to the players earlier in the week then ended up getting ejected from the game himself. Classic.
-omg and he’s calling the other coaches on the field on a flip phone, that’s. Mmhmm. Yep. Early 2000s gold.
-but oop now Wade Aikmen is gonna be getting all the attention. Oh boy. This show keeps ya on your toes!!
-JD’s mom wants her 15 year old son to date wayyyy too much and JD’s dad wants to control his love life wayyyy too much. Maybe they should both just chill???
-omg Katie McCoy totally would’ve kept JD’s date with Madison a secret if the dad hasn’t seen it. This is a *sings* deeply unhealthy family dynamic~
-Saracen is so cute being nervous that Landry’s gonna bomb. Friendshipppp
-okay Landry’s band got a decent turnout! Anyway I hope a girl throws her bra at Devin.
-wait really? Landry in a metal band now suddenly has Tyra feeling him? Again I DO NOT UNDERSTAND TYRA AND LANDRY.
-wow Buddy said Lyla was right AND apologized? I’m actually surprised. Can he call MY dad and teach him how to apologize? Kthxbye.
Yeah seriously I think that was my favorite episode so far!
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bestwishes86 · 4 years
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A snippet from "The Audition" leave comments and critiques
Best of Me : Book One – Moon
Chapter One – The Audition
    One Thousand is the number of head shots and resumes the thirty two year old director and her best friend and sister Luna had looked through for two days while drinking glasses of wine and smoking countless cigarettes. Together the pair had consumed nine bottles of something French before culling that number down to two hundred. Luna, the natural beauty with skin the color of green tea with too much milk in it had done the real leg work. Her fingers were numb from all the typing and retyping of all the names and seeing who had been used in prior work. Who had made 'experimental films' and who had nudes anywhere on the internet. Over dinner the pair had cackled like hens as they watched the films and decided whose penis was the best and whose was the worst.
    Any name they found was instantly rejected and the head shot and resume thrown into the shredder. Valentina longed for the day when these celebrity wannabes wised up enough to know.
    “Why give it away for free if someone will pay for it,”
    Barring those had swiftly brought the candidates list down. But then she was left with two hundred men who she had to pair with the two leading men of the Lakorn film movement, She looked at Luna, the milk tea goddess was dressed in one of her muscle bound husbands shirts which fit her like a dress two sizes too large. Her long thin legs draped across the arm of the brown leather couch while she was on the phone with the hotel they would use for the venue. The shirt, a white with black stripes button down complimented her skin and long, dyed ruby red hair which fell around her half halo face in waves.
    Valentina had born as a boy whose name was Kerrin. Kerrin had once been an actor in her early days in the business. She had been born a male, with a femininity that made her stand out from her all boy's school classmates. It had been this that caused them to tease her and hate her. But there was no denying that as a boy she had been sexy. Large doe eyes, high cheek bones, a small button nose and natural light skin the bravest boys would try and share her time. They would secretly be nice to her. It had confused her then because those same boys had been the ones to spit on her or call her names. Her sister Luna had suggested she try acting, since she could lie to their loving and caring parents about her time in school to the point they believed her. Why not? And she did.
    Soon her face as Kerrin was one many knew. The soap opera he starred in took off. Money came easy enough then. But she hated every second of it. Smiling for the camera, seeing that stranger's face where her's should be. It had been her wish back then to die. But instead she did the next best thing. She paid an obscene amount of money to a doctor who cut away any trace of Kerrin. It was painful the numerous surgeries, the days of bed rest, the rehabilitation. But what had hurt the worst was when she had gone to see her parents and they had hit and cursed her. Only Luna had defended her and called the man who at that time was named Perth who kicked in the door and beat her father while she lay on her side. Bleeding from where her father's foot had stomped on her head. This was the 2000's and plastic surgery wasn't what it is now, the damage done had called for another round of surgeries and this time Perth had paid for those. But two years later Valentina was born from the boy who never had been in love.
    “Val did you fall sleep with your eyes open again,” Luna's soft concern snapped her out of her revelry.
    “No just remembering Kerrin, sorry what were you saying,” Valentina asked looking at the empty bottle of wine and wondering if it was too late in the evening for food. Beauty came at a cost and for her it was the freedom to eat whenever she wanted. Standing at six foot without heels, her body was taut from hours in the gym daily, her breasts small and perky and her ass the shape of a healthy apple. She wanted to keep everything in the right place and the right shape.
    “Bond is coming tomorrow is that ok,” Luna asked again and Valentina nodded while internally cringing. Luna went back to the phone conversation while Valentina rose from the couch she had been sitting on and walked to the window like wall of glass that framed the loft apartment on one side. Her simple white dress flowed around her as if she were Sailor Moon which was secretly her spirit animal. Her hip length golden blond hair was styled in a similar manner and her eyes were reshaped to look Japanese instead Thai. She reached to the small end table made of glass and metal by her personal couch and picked up her rose gold Iphone and dialed the long password to the phone. Her work phone lay in her work bag, her personal phone was one that only two people had the numbers for. Luna and Titan. They were her friends and the only people she considered family. She tapped Titan's name long changed from Perth and put the phone to her ear as she watched the rain fall down on the city twenty stories below her.
    “Hello Beautiful, how was day drinking.” a deep yet soft voice teased her and she felt her eyebrows come together.
    “Terrible without my husband, how was your day? Bed any new costars or is it pop singers this year?” Valentina cooed back. The two had known each other since they were little boys, and he had been the only one besides Luna happy to meet Valentina.
    “A Gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell,” Titan said back without skipping a beat.
    “I'm sorry I must have the wrong number, I thought I was calling Titan the man who couldn't keep his pants up if they were sewn to his skin. Not a Gentleman, I will let you go then,” Valentina said and was surprised by her own tone of voice. The mere mention of the name Bond did this too her.
    “Whoa whoa who has got my wife in this state, I will break his legs,” Titan said with amusement but a serious undertone.
    “If only you had when you had the chance,' Valentina said and pressed her forehead to the glass.
    “What has Bond done now...?” Titan asked knowing instantly who she was thinking of.
    “Nothing yet, But you know Bond. He insists on attending the auditions tomorrow. Probably to scare away your future costar.”Valentina said calmer now that the cool glass was touching her skin. Maybe she had drunk too much on an near empty stomach.
    “I will be there.” Titan said and Valentina felt a smile cross her face. When they had been children Perth had always come to her aid. No matter how many boys had her cornered Perth would fight for her. Somethings never changed, even if she had.
    “No you won't you have costume fitting at the same time as the auditions,” Valentina reminded him as she moved back from the glass and switched over to speaker phone.
    “My measurements haven't changed in ten years. I will be there to keep Bond out of your hair like a good man should. Speaking of, have you been on any dates lately,” Titan asked the open air and Luna snorted sitting up at the sound of that question.
    “Excuse me...!?” Valentina asked shocked at the question.
    “Well neither of us are getting any younger my love and I worry that you're intentionally warding off men with your moods,” Titan explained and Valentina wanted to drop her phone and step on it. Perth had never cared if Kerrin had liked men or women, and made a point to find every boy in the school who preferred steak to chicken and bring them round. None met what he called Kerrin's standards when in all honesty each time it had hurt. Because all Kerrin had wanted was Perth. Now Valentina was nearing that time in her life where honesty and lies were almost the same thing. And still all she wanted was Titan.
    “Twenty years later and I still want to throttle you,” Valentina said through gritted teeth.
    “But you love me too much to do it, I know. But maybe you should share that love with someone who deserves it.” Titan said and there was no joking in his tone.
    “Is this because my birthday is coming up, the one we aren't celebrating,” Valentina asked feeling a rising sense of fear at the mention of it. Titan had always gone out of his way to make her birthday special. And it unnerved her the level of care and effort he put into them. Each year it gave her hope that he would kiss her and she knew that was a silly fantasy.
    “You only turn twenty nine 3 times, we agreed this year you become thirty. How can I not use some of the money I made starring in your shows to shower you with unwanted attention from people you believe hate you,” Titan sing songed and Luna giggled and Valentina shot her a death glare.
    “Fine Fine, I become Thirty and you and Luna get to see my youth wither and dry, is thirty too soon for menopause?”Valentina asked and all three laughed openly and all thoughts of Bond were forgotten.  
---
Valentina is inspired by the Thai transwoman - Blossum and Titan is inspired by Earth P
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evtranslations · 5 years
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A forward and a gay man
Janne Puhakka reveals what it’s like being a gay hockey player in the Finnish Elite League, Liiga. He is the first to have the courage to speak about the matter publicly.
Source.
[T/N: The article is behind a paywall. I will call SM-liiga/the Finnish Elite League “Liiga” for the remainder of the article.]
TL;DR:
Janne Puhakka, 24, retired professional ice hockey player
Played one season (40 games) in the Finnish Elite League in 2015-2016
First Finnish pro hockey player to come out, fourth globally
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Janne Puhakka played in the Espoo Blues and Espoo United in 2015-2017.
The surnames of Janne Puhakka and his boyfriend are written on a mail slot in an apartment building in Helsinki.
Puhakka’s handshake has strength. He asks me to come in and says that their move isn’t quite done yet. Some of the furniture is missing, and a light hasn’t been mounted on the ceiling.
Nonetheless, Puhakka is ready to give an interview that will go down in Finnish sports history. He is the first hockey player who has played in Liiga to publicly, with his own name and face, say he is homosexual.
Puhakka says he isn’t particularly nervous. He contemplated the matter for a long time, for his active career’s last three years.
But in the conservative and partly closed-minded Finnish hockey community, Puhakka’s surprise statement can be unique. For the first time, someone breaks the taboo: can a gay person play hockey?
Puhakka takes a breath. The topic is simultaneously important and frustrating.
“In an ideal world we wouldn’t have to talk about this. But as long as it’s kept quiet, we have to.”
In 1995, the Puhakka family had their youngest child, Janne. Mom, dad and two big sisters had moved to the metropolitan area from Oulu.
At around five or six years, Puhakka saw advertising leaflets for the local hockey club at his day-care and got interested. He announced that he wanted to go to hockey practice. He started two hobbies: ice hockey at Espoon Kiekkoseura and soccer at FC Kasi-ysi in Espoo.
Puhakka was a sporty kid. The kind that learns to skate quickly and gets balls and game equipment to obey him. For many years, he did the two sports in parallel, but at 13 years old, hockey won the day.
“I had more friends in hockey.”
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Janne Puhakka returned to his home arena Espoo Metro Arena.
As a small boy, Puhakka liked playing as a winger and identified as some kind of a power forward whose game was founded on good skating and a hard shot. Later, he admired the Russian stick handling virtuoso Pavel Datsyuk and tried playing as a center like his role model.
There were many gifted hockey players among Finnish boys born in 1995. Juuse Saros and Artturi Lehkonen play in the NHL these days. Kevin Lankinen, who made saves last spring to help the national team to a gold in the IIHF World Championships, also belongs to the same age group. The generation’s brightest diamond is Aleksander Barkov, one of the most skilled players in the world.
As a teenager, Janne Puhakka competed side by side with these promising players. At 15 years old he got invited to an annual camp that brings together that year’s best players. There Puhakka realized that the level of his top contemporaries wasn’t unreachable.
“At that point the whole thing became serious in a way.”
Puhakka began training in earnest. School, practice and game journeys were scheduled carefully.
The next big step was coming at 16. The cream of the crop would get their first invitation to the junior national team. At that age many teenage boys will start to wonder if their hockey hobby could be more than a hobby. Would their skills be enough one day to cut it as a professional?
The thought excites - and brings pressure.
“For many, not making the junior national team is very tough,” says Puhakka.
Puhakka made it. In 2013 he was in the national under-18 team that won bronze at the U18 World Championships in Russia. That was one of Puhakka’s hockey career’s finest hours.
Puhakka had been thinking about his sexuality since reaching adolescence. However, the thoughts remained in the background for a long time. Being able to train, play, go to school and spend time with friends was enough.
On Saturday morning, 19th of September, Puhakka received surprising news from his morning skate coach: that same night, he would be playing his first Liiga match wearing an Espoo Blues jersey.
He got to play for roughly six minutes against Tappara of Tampere. Victory on home ice, the great feeling and an impressive goal scored by Tappara’s rookie star Patrik Laine stuck in his mind.
In the 2015-2016 season Puhakka played 40 games in Liiga. He was now part of the select few whose skills and motivation had carried over from the first practices in day-care through the junior years all the way into the Finnish Elite League. He played hockey for a living. Got paid. Dreamt of bigger leagues and the NHL.
However, Puhakka noticed he had to push a part of his identity aside while walking to the rink. He adds that he understands it is normal: it’s a workplace, the main purpose is not to shout your own matters from the rooftops.
Still, not being able to honestly say he was gay bothered him.
In the locker room his teammates spoke about what they’d done with their wives and girlfriends.
“Many times someone asked if I had a girlfriend. I waved the question off and always afterwards wondered why I couldn’t tell them about it.”
Why?
“There were mental blocks.”
Puhakka describes how he put on sorts of emotional defenses at the rink. The secrecy was also difficult on his relationship. Puhakka dated during his years of play and was forced to think about how he would introduce his boyfriend to his teammates, should they bump into each other out on the town.
“That sort of thing puts a strain on everyday life and is difficult for your partner.”
Locker room talk is its own whole world. Puhakka says you can’t make it in an ice hockey team without self-irony.
“Everyone who’s ever been in a locker room knows that there are all sorts of jokes thrown around. It’s sometimes racy, and gay jokes can be part of it.”
Puhakka says he never intervened in questionable jokes or took them personally. They went in one ear and out the other.
But Puhakka knows not everyone is like him.
“Some other guy might take it personally and retreat into a shell.”
In potentially awkward situations Puhakka was helped by support from his friends. In the locker room they’re teammates, but out of the teammates some can additionally be close friends. Puhakka found people from his teams to whom he could naturally talk about his sexuality.
The courage was worth it. When someone told a gay joke in the locker room, Puhakka could throw a glance at these trusted friends and exchange looks. They could laugh together at the shared secret.
“That eased my mind and made the situation more relaxed for me.”
One of these trusted friends was Kim Hirschovits, captain of the Espoo Blues and one of the most well-known Liiga players of the 2000s.
On one roadtrip Puhakka told Hirschovits that he was dating a man.
“Hirso replied ‘cool, congratulations’. You don’t really even need to reply anything else.”
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Kim Hirschovits (on the left), former Blues captain, was among the players to whom Puhakka dared to talk about his gayness.
The old attitudes and regularities of the sports world have been coming apart in recent years. Greater appreciation and support is being demanded for women’s and disabled people’s sports. The by-products of sports are being tackled more intensely as well.
Efforts have been started to get rid of racism in audiences as well as playing fields and rinks. The fights in hockey rinks, everyday occurrences in the NHL in the past decades, are almost completely gone. The self-governed world of sports has been forced in many ways to clean its act up so that it could stand up to outward scrutiny.
Homosexuality has been one of the last big taboos in sports. Only in recent years has the atmosphere shifted into one where a number of known athletes have openly had the courage to share their belonging to a sexual minority. NBA basketball player Jason Collins, swimmers Ari-Pekka Liukkonen and Ian Thorpe, American football player Michael Sam and many others have taken their turns coming out of the closet.
It has been more quiet in ice hockey, widely perceived as a ‘macho’ sport. In the whole world, only a handful of players that have done what Janne Puhakka did. The Danish goalkeeper Jon Lee-Olsen came out of the closet only some days ago. As far as is known, he is the only player to dare speak out during his active career.
Puhakka has been reading the news. Lee-Olsen’s gayness has been received well in Denmark.
Puhakka’s own experiences of Liiga are attached to one hockey club and 40 games. After that, he played one season in Mestis. [T/N: Second highest hockey league in Finland.] His experiences of locker rooms aren’t horrifyingly homophobic.
“But the hockey world is somehow behind. We wouldn’t have to spell this out over and over if everyone could naturally be themselves in the room.”
In Finland the conversation about gay hockey players has been agonizingly difficult. At times it has circled in downright tragicomic twists. Ex-goalkeeper and congressman representing the National Coalition Party Sinuhe Wallinheimo said in February 2014 that a gay player should hide his gayness in the locker room, so that the matter wouldn’t mess with the team’s chemistry and turn against the team. 
At that time, Wallinheimo was the president of the Finnish Ice Hockey Players’ Association. He received much criticism for his statement, and apologized. The issue is made strange by the fact that only a year earlier, it was Wallinheimo who had encouraged athletes to come out of the closet.
Former national team captain Juhani Tamminen said in the autumn of 2014 at a panel talk that in his multiple career decades he had never seen a gay person in the locker room. He also added that “little mice” wouldn’t make it in the sport. Later Tamminen added that he thinks gay people are welcome to the sport.
Now, the leading role in hockey’s “gay conversation” is taken by 24-year-old Janne Puhakka. He is making it calm, and is not looking for conflicts or cheap brownie points.
He does not want to comment Juhani Tamminen’s statement.
“I don’t know the origin of Tami’s comment or what he meant. But the idea of there not being queer people in locker rooms is silly.”
There are hundreds of players in Liiga. Statistically, there are several, even dozens of gay men among them. None of these players have chosen their sexual orientation, and gayness doesn’t affect their skills as hockey players, emphasizes Puhakka.
Puhakka doesn’t recognize Sinuhe Wallinheimo’s idea of gayness disturbing the atmosphere in the locker room, either. His own experiences say otherwise. Whenever he has told his friends of his sexuality, the reception has been positive without exception.
“And then, they might tell me something about their own life that was below the surface. That strengthens a team.”
An element of danger and even violence that’s missing from other sports has always been part of ice hockey. As late as the 1990s, the game would at times resemble warfare. Especially in the NHL, bone-crushers and goons dominated the rink.
Janne Puhakka’s contemporaries made lots of reforms in the hockey world. Along with rule changes, the sport has become more fast and skillful. The modern top player is a dexterous virtuoso, not a trouble-making macho. Gradually, the atmosphere and image of the sport are changing too. The internet’s highlight reels are comprised of impressive goals instead of heads rolling off bleeding.
Masculinity itself is more varied than before in the younger generation’s men. In the spring, people admired Kevin Lankinen’s reading hobby. Patrik Laine is a feared goal-scorer as well as a teetotaler. When the young national team won Junior World Championship gold in January of 2016, no player was caught making trouble drunk in public. Basketball player Lauri Markkanen has said he avoids eating red meat.
Janne Puhakka is gay. To his contemporaries this is no longer taboo. It isn’t necessarily even that interesting of a matter.
Still, Puhakka’s statement is only the beginning. Puhakka thinks it strange that he doesn’t know any other gay players who played in Liiga.
“I can imagine that there are players who want to talk about it, but don’t dare to, because they’re afraid for their job. Especially players outside of the top lines might feel uncertain.”
Puhakka himself had wanted to talk about his sexuality during his active career. He dreamed of breaking through and becoming a public figure. He mulled it over for three years.
“But I wasn’t that good of a player, that I could’ve been sure of keeping my job. That brought uncertainty.”
And Puhakka’s career ended earlier than he’d thought.
At some point Puhakka noticed, that some of his friends were heading into the NHL and the KHL. Puhakka played one season in France, and trained one more summer with the thought of finding somewhere fitting to play. A young player always wants to believe that one or two good seasons can change their whole career.
Eventually, he wanted to see what else he could do in life.
Now, he studies international business in Helsinki at Haaga Helia University of Applied Sciences and works in the fashion industry. His boyfriend works as a vet employed by the Norwegian salmon industry.
As a high-schooler Puhakka spent two years in Canada in QMJHL. At the same time he was doing his upper secondary school studies. The experience has been helpful later in his life.
“I learned self-discipline then. You can study alongside playing hockey, if you have the will and the energy for it.”
Puhakka told his own family about being gay at 19 years old. Their reception was straightforward and easy. Last June, he published a photo of himself and his partner on his Instagram account.
“A burden fell off my shoulders. I hoped that any hockey player would have contacted me. It would be cool to talk to someone who’s been in the same situation.”
Puhakka thinks it would be best if other players would come out after him. The bigger the names, the better. He wishes that no player would question their own talent because of their sexual orientation.
“If even one junior or adult player wrestling with this took something positive from this interview, I’m happy.”
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Thoughts/Background Goblet of Fire
What kind of creepy graveyard is this? Skeletons crawling over one another? Snake hidey-holes? Is this Nagini speaking or can she hear Voldemort from that far away? This just shows how fast she is as she moves along the ground here. Literally, we have here the Angel of Death equipped with wings and a scythe, which normally the Grim Reaper carries.
One light on in the caretaker’s house which is right next to the family graveyard? We are assuming that this is the Riddle estate, correct? Wealthy families like that would have had a family graveyard near their home. Also, that house in the background, Riddle Manor? Is super big and though it is dark looks grandiose.
The house here, looks well lived in, but at the same time, almost like it has only recently been inhabited. This is a kitchen, but it looks like there is a shovel on the wall, and only one light?
Still, only one light on in the main Riddle house. Wormtail can’t even draw a curtain? Dang.
Those are some old fashioned keys. I understand that this is a Manor or whatever, but this takes place during the nineties? No one thought to update the locks on this place? Frank mentions, “Those kids”, like people breaking in has been a real problem. Why not update the security? Also, who has been paying for the upkeep of this place? Lucius? Some secret Dark Lord Corporation? Is that why they are old school? Because we all know that wizards like to keep everything super, super, super old school?
Seriously, who is keeping up this place? The topiary is amazing!!
He looks like he is walking up a sort of backdoor entrance or servant’s entrance.
He is the caretaker for the grounds, but can’t dust a little? That clock needs a good one.
The light wasn’t muted because no one was casting a lumos, they were simply using a lamp that had the fabric bits removed that dampen the light.
The way that Barty is smiling when Nagini perches herself on Voldemort’s chair is fucking terrifying.
Ron’s room really is all orange. Such a fanboy.
The Burrow is in such a great spot. The little pond in front, the trees, the openness. The house itself is incredible. Still, only one light on. Whose? You can see the group walking away. That has to be Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room. Or Ron forgot to turn off the light, again.
They are all having to run to keep up with Mr. Weasley because he gets his cardio, bitch.
Mr. Weasley is rocking that straw cabana hat because he knows Muggles son!
Such a beautiful shot!
Did they travel through a worm hole here? I know the director or whoever had to make a creative choice in how this was going to be portrayed, but…. Idk.
Everyone is flying around, the arena is clearly segregated into Ireland’s colors or Green, Red, and Yellow, perhaps hinting at the final score of the match? Nice job, filmmakers.
What is this guy juggling? It looks like toy merecreatures almost.
Orange is the Weasley families favorite color. They’re just owning it at this point.
The pitch looks like it is in the inside of a volcano or a mountain.
Some people have seats right on the grass of the pitch? So, if the Weasle’s have bad seats at the very top what would the very lowest seats be classified as?
Who knew that a job qualification for Professional Qudditich players is the ability to adequately throw and spark fireworks?
Krum is a showoff.
Those are omnoculars? What Ron has to his face?
The way that they were all packed in together, it’s a wonder the whole place didn’t burn down with all the incendios they were throwing around.
They are all wizards, underage or not, and this is a life threatening situation, and yet, no one is firing back at the Death Eaters?
Okay, so everything did get torched to the ground. None of these tents had some fire retardant?
That amount of spells coming at the trio.
That style of hat that Crouch is wearing has got to be some ministry trend. Wait until they all hit the trucker hats in the 2000’s.
That Dark Mark is really cool.
I love her hat though. It looks like something that would have been worn to the royal wedding.
Seeing the train is always stunning.
I love the collection of sweets here. Colorful, to attract the youngins.
This is a really colorful movie. The third one was very muted while still being stunning. This and the next one experience with splashes of color that are just beautiful.
They are passing a big lake in the background there. Out of the window just looks wild and remote.
He addresses it clearly to Sirius Black. Is that a qualification for the owls to know where they letter needs to go or do they just have to have been there before? I need to know the specifics of owl travel.
You get to see the whole scope of how large not only Hogwarts is ,but the grounds, and I love that.
You see Neville in this first sequence as they are watching the other schools arrive as well as Fred, George, Ginny, Colin, Harry, and Hermione. Angelina Johnson is in the background behind the twins.
The sails on the Durmstrang ship looks like it is decorated with a two headed dragon. Is that the symbol for Durmstrang?
So while Dumbledore is chatting, Hagrid and Flitwick are behind him chit chatting.
There are two levels to the head table in this movie. The main folk are sitting at the higher table. Snape is leaning against the wall, not directly related to them at all. I bet he hated first days at the school.
Snape is one hundred percent mimicking Dumbledore’s speech for a hysterical Flitwick in the background.
The bald guy behind Dumbledore looks asleep, straight up.
Are butterflies the symbol for Beauxbatons? That would be very interesting. A creature that transforms completely into something else.
Hermione and Ginny are the only two who know what’s up in this shot.
Dumbledore was giving Madame Maxime eyes.
Filch is just standing dead in the middle of the Durmstrang wizards.
He is still standing there when Krum and Karkaroff walk in.
The kids so promptly follow Dumbledore’s instructions even though some of them are probably embarrassed about having to sing the school song.
But not Harry James Potter. He is living for this song.
Again we get so many shots of the school in this movie.
You can see the house point containers behind Dumbledore’s head.
You can see them again after the goblet is revealed.
Is that a tower of marshmallows?
OMgosh! The sky acted up when Crouch Jr came in because Hogwarts knew that he wasn’t who he said he was!!!!
The cup is so primitive looking compared to the container that is in.
It almost looks like each layer was created by a different faction of the wizarding world as a whole. That could definitely be a fanfic.
The perspective starts on the Durmstrang ship which again features a dragon.
Cages, nets in the background of the DADA classroom.
There is also a lot of glass and mirrors in the room which almost makes me think of a fun house where you don’t look like yourself in any of the mirrors which is super fitting for Crouch Jr. at this phase.
Why does Hermione look so suspicious already?
And what is the use of all the bugs, Crouch Jr. you sick mother f-er.
Who needs fifty overflowing worms in a jar?
Dean Thomas is straight up rocking a composition notebook from Walmart on that desk. He is representing Muggle culture at its finest.
Crabbe is wearing a ring. Is that his heir ring? That would be interesting as we see the younger generation start to really get pulled into the war in this film.
The portrait on the stain glass crying. We have all seen this, and appreciate the majesty.
We love a rain soaked Robert Pattinson.
Everyone is just watching the battle between the twins and Hermione.
There is no other light in the Great hall except for the Goblet? Dumbledore does love his aesthetic.
Snape is like, get me out of here.
And that display of power is why all of them dang kids sing that dorky song.
Who is Cedric kissing here as he goes up to the head table?
The cup is like the opposite of the Goblet of Fire. It is shiny and bright and new while the goblet is ancient looking.
You can see Harry’s scar quite prevalently in this shot.
The Hogwarts trophy room. I have never connected this before. It is huge.
Karkaroff has gold fillings.
What are the spinning trophies and where can I get one?
One light on in the top part of the castle.
Pensieve memories are blue, and the Goblet’s fire is blue. Coincidence? Fic writers, you tell me.
The suns on the curtains in the boy’s dorm is a nice touch.
Ron has a homemade quilt. I bet he gets those for birthday gifts instead of the infamous Christmas sweater. Molly Weasley is a boss.
What are all of these trophies for? I bet Dumbledore keeps all the ones that the various clubs and groups have won over the years.
Magical cleaner?
The scope of Hogwarts is amazing.
The owlery is literally covered in bird shit, like every inch. Dumbledore clearly instructs Filch not to clean it to deter frisky students.
Is that a cat on the stairs there?
I can’t ever decide if the Common Room looks too big or too small, here.
Harry talks about Voldemort so casually. But I guess if someone tried to kill me year after year we would form a sort of familiarity.
Those cabinets in the back are filled with board games. Bet me. Gryffindors are notoriously bloody, and game night, gets wild.
I bet Neville spends a lot of his time in the lake just researching and studying all of the different plant life.
Neville cares not at all for the drama behind him. He’s just like, “Give me the plants”.
I love that bright orange flower. Hagrid ain’t no fool. He knows how to get the ladies.
The mist in the background could almost be taken as fog, but then you think about the dragon’s and it literally could be smoke.
Hagrid representing all of the men who are shorter than their women.
There looks to be about six dragon handlers here.
They are carrying branches or their wands lit with fire at the end. Is that to confuse the dragons? Make them think that they already covered that area in their territory and are thus safe?
The handler on top gets bucked off the cage. He is done with this job.
I’m sorry, but those badges are ingenious. Do we know in the movie that Draco is the one that made them or is that fanon?
Those Hufflepuffs are nasty.
The sculpture that is seen in that scene in the courtyard looks like the same one that is present in Half Blood Prince. Do they also move around the castle at will?
Harry pushed Draco, and that guy in the back is like, “Yes, let’s have a fight.” Then he and the other guy straight up bounce when Moody pops on the scene. But Goyle is ride or die. Or maybe they ran and got McGonagall because she came really quickly???? Hmmm??
The walls are all green and lightly moss covered. Gorgeous.
Like, is there a legit list of all the things that teachers cannot do. 1. We do not use Transfiguration as a punishment. 2. Trying to main or kill students is expressively forbidden. 3. Flashy robes are allowed and encouraged. Share in the glorious pattern of life.
Crouch Jr. should have been shitting his pants at being at the end of McGonagall’s wand.
Again with all the mirrors. So, Crouch Jr. can make sure that his transformation isn’t slipping?
What are the faces in the mirror here?  
All the clues were there, and I didn’t see a single one. This movie and book is a masterpiece of plot. Plain and simple.
McGonagall was like, “Let’s not have the arena with the dragons so close to the castle, eh, Albus?”
There is a bed for each of the champions in this tent. Could no one transfigure a couch?
They have punch and muffins in the background. “Lime punch before you fight a dragon?” “Sure.”
I never noticed that blue in Madame Mazime’s hair. I love the school spirit that she is showing here. Dumbledore seriously thought of mimicking her. He would look bomb with a tie die beard. Convince me otherwise.
Filch is featured spectacularly in this movie.
The trunk at the bottom has a red cross on it, making this very likely an emergency tent that just so happens to double as the waiting area for the champions.
Colin made that sign for Harry.
I feel like that chain, oh, I don’t know, could have been magically reinforced or something.
How does his glasses stay on? I bend over, and mine are on the floor.
Even Draco here is like, “Come on, bro.”
Snape knew he should have stayed in bed.
So, does the waterfall seen here does that fall into Hogwart’s grounds as well because that would be awesome for field trips. My love for this ancient, magical castle in the middle of nowhere is unmatched.
Where was Seamus during that challenge? I did not see him.
The picture of the woman in the far left is very striking.
The Black Lake is a huge expanse. I always think of it as kind of small, but it is massive in this movie.
The pastries in the back are floating along the table. So cool.
Mrs. Norris just chilling, waiting to see these pitiful humans embarrass themselves.
Why can’t they have healed Harry? I understand the look, but dang, people continuity.
Neville has got them shiny dancing shoes. Augusta was very pleased when Neville asked her to buy them for him.
Hermione is a queen, and she knows it.
There is that semi circle of stone again from the third film. Hmmm….
Ginny’s friends are coming in with the support. Love a squad.
There was fruit on that table. I always wondered if they got snacks and what not during the daytime, between meals.
What was the need of carriages if the ball was held at the school?
Ron waited until last minute to even try on those robes or he definitely could have worked something out.
Owl sculptures are supporting the fires here.
Krum is dumbstruck by our girl.
Somehow she loses Krum to argue with Ron.
Is that couple making out at the table?
People are dancing in the hallway?
A gaggle of girls are crying on the stairs. Every middle school dance ever.
I’m telling you, whoever designed this cemetery had a very messed up imagination.
Neville stays out all night long. It is morning coming through that window. You dog, you.
Half of the allure of going to Hogwarts is to get to become a prefect and use that bath. Let’s be honest.
Crouch Jr. hates his life right now.
All of those books are like represent my best life.
Half of those students are like, “Yeah, no, you took all my money last time.” Because let’s be real, no one bet on Harry, and Fred and George scored big time.
Those top tiered placed have got to be enlarged with wizard’s space because they are quite small, and the whole school plus the two others are expected to attend each trial? Yeah, not big enough it seems.
Harry is a show off.
Seamus is wearing Hogwarts merch. Like where did he get that? A catalog? Gift shop in Hogsmeade?
You can see the merpeople’s ancient village here, or hints of it. Archways, etc.
Fleur looks legit worried here. Like Harry was right to not trust Dumbledore to ensure their safety when he can’t even tell Fleur who is out of the competition by this point that her sister is going to be okay.
Why are Fred, George, and Ginny right next to Malfoy and Co. for this shot, shouldn’t they be at odds? Or was that the best spot and neither were giving it up?  Or plain movie making reasons?
Harry is wearing a wand holster on his leg. Fanfiction writers catch all the details.
Seamus is like, “I am Harry’s hype man. I will keep him from getting hypothermia.”
Why did Hermione turn French here for that line?
Rescue….. that’s a strong word here, Dumbles.
Crouch Sr. is such an interesting character. He knows what it is like to lose a family, and he has his guard up because of that. Their story and their family is so interesting to me for some reason.
I think that’s the closest that Crouch Jr. gets to breaking character.
If you were born in the nineties you had at least one of those jackets that Hermione is wearing here, and if you had more, you had them in several colors.
Who bewitched Mad-eye’s eye? It is a very powerful magical object in its own right, right?
Please see my post about Sirius and Azkaban.
As soon as Snape is mentioned Crouch puts his head in his hands because he knows Dumbledore is going to have to have a say.
Dumbledore is looking so closely at the details that he misses the bigger picture in Harry’s dreams and Moody’s actions.
It’s so weird that Snape has a storage area for ingredients near Dumbledore’s office. I bet that Snape has several storage areas spread throughout the castle.
Snape could have just looked inside Harry’s mind, and be done with it, but no….because plot.
Neville is carrying yet another plant behind the trio here.
Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle are so carefree here that you almost forget that the happiness of youth that they have at Hogwarts is about to go extinct just like Harry and his friends. All of the kids in this story face a sharp change in perspective after this book.
I like that Harry has fake Moody, Krum has Karkaroff, Fleur has Madame Maxime, but Cedric has his dad because he gets to say goodbye to him.
The maze is just a massive headgame.
Do you think the reason that Fleur ultimately becomes close enough to Krum to ask him to her wedding is because Krum sought her out and made serious recompense for him being imperioused while in the maze?
They are just resorting to brute strength there at the end. The maze making them forget that they are capable wizards. A jelly legs jinx probably would have had much the same effect.
Angel statues I get, but this big dementor, grim looking thing holding the bones of Voldemort’s father. I just don’t get it.
Cedric gave Peter a chance to speak or stop, but Peter again took the cowards way out, and blasted Cedric before he really had a chance to fight back. What a punk bitch.
I’m glad that you are forced to choke your own self Peter because you deserve it.
Voldemort’s transformation here is both stunning and horrible.
The Death Eaters come out of the Dark Mark’s mouth.
Their masks here are different then the ones used earlier in the morning.
Voldemort is snatching their weaves here, and I love it. Stupid klan robe wearing wizard Nazis.
Voldemort puts his foot on Cedric’s face. Like, son, you need to pay for that privilege.
A lot of the Death Eaters here look like they have like staffs. I don’t understand.
A Death Eater in the background is litearlly clapping when Voldemort makes Harry bow, like get a hold of yourself, Hershel.
The statue, again, in the background presents such a striking image as the two duel.
The spell that Crouch Jr. urged Harry to learn is the one that saved Harry.
Harry just wanting to physically protect Cedric’s body with his own. Just heartbreaking.
I’ll never not sob when I hear Amos Diggory sob, “That’s my son! That’s my boy!”
Fred and George look to follow Crouch Jr. and Harry out. Do they tip off the professors?
Doesn’t Crouch know what it is like to stand in Voldemort’s presence? He was just babysitting the man, I mean, dang. Fangirling is one thing, but you have business to handle.
Don’t insult my Neville. I will throw down.
The mirrors are gone at this point. It looks like Crouch has almost packed up because he knows that he will no longer be needed.
Not his blood, ahhhhh!!!!!
Snape puts such flourish into his casting. That scene at the carriages earlier in this film. He looks like he is rearing back away from Karkaroff, but he is merely preparing to cast one fanciful, flourish of a hex on the man.
Just stick your face in the crazy Death Eater’s face, Harry. Great thinking. No wonder Snape doesn’t hold your intelligence in high regard.
We don’t get one look at Professor Sprout. This boy’s Head of House?
Look at all that magical cooperation, and yet, none of this was used in book seven, or any book after except for mentioning Fleur married Bill, and Harry learned a little tidbit about the Deathly Hallows symbol from Krum.
I love this film. It is stunning, and truly made me a diehard HP fan. I don’t think I will ever really tire of it.
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