#also her design is so good. i may not always like how he portrays women but hori kinda popped off with her

[raifenlf]

Why Loki’s Sylvie Is A Mary Sue

So I am firmly in the camp that Sylvie on the Loki series was/is a Mary Sue.  The last episode made me feel better and like maybe the show was doing a thing where they were faking you out that she was a Mary Sue only to show she was actually sort of a bad guy and I liked that.  But all the recent interviews make me think the show wants to go back to her being a Mary Sue.

But I feel like when I call her out for being a Mary Sue people tell me what are you talking about, she’s not a Mary Sue, bad things happen to her, etc.  But that doesn’t actually make her not a Mary Sue.  

Also, before we start, I know some people find Mary Sue sexist.  But I personally use the term for guys and girls. I don’t use the term to belittle women.  I use the term to criticize a poorly written character.

And I know Mary Sue is often used to describe fanfic characters.  But to me, this series is kind of like a fanfic because the writers took a character who had been in canon MCU material for ten years and then created characters around that character.  So, I kind of review it like I would a fanfic.  It’s very different than if the writers had created a brand new show with all of their own new characters.

Anyway, if you are not totally familiar with the Mary Sue term, then check this out:

I know the term Mary Sue probably means different things to different people.  But I have always used these guidelines when I write my own fanfic to make sure my characters never come off as a Mary Sue.

This article really gives you a full scale of what a Mary Sue is.  If you start reading it, you’ll immediately see why Sylvie is.  But I’m going to take out the parts that most fit Sylvie just to highlight why I believe she is a Mary Sue.  I apologize for this being so long.

Mary Sue Character Traits

Personality

Erm... what personality? The typical Mary Sue doesn't have one per se, because she isn't meant to be a character; rather, she's an entity by which the author makes cool stuff happen.

I feel like that is Sylvie in a nutshell.  She doesn’t have a personality.  I feel like even though she ate screentime, I still don’t really know her at all.  The writers love to say she’s badass.  That’s not a personality.  

Sometimes when I am writing stories for fun and creating new characters, I like to take surveys as my fictional characters.  Like the kind of surveys you’d see in a magazine, like personality types, what’s your dating style, etc.  I figure if I don’t know what my character would do in any of those situations, then I need to keep working on my character.  And if I was trying to fill out a survey pretending I was Sylvie I would have no idea what to answer because she doesn’t have a personality.  She’s just “cool”.

What little personality a Mary Sue has isn't as important as how other characters react to it. No matter how shy or socially awkward Mary Sue is supposed to be, other characters will be inexplicably drawn to her

This is so Sylvie.  Loki falls in love with her...why, exactly?  He falls in love with her in the big Nexus event moment...why?  Because she had a tough childhood?  Mobius spends like two seconds with her in a car and goes from hating her to saying she’s his favorite Loki.  For. No. Particular. Reason.

She's extremely persuasive; everyone finds her opinions to be better than their own

She enchants Hunter B-15 and then immediately Hunter B-15 makes it her whole entire life mission to back Sylvie up.  

And occasionally she'll be a complete asshole...This can manifest itself in several ways...The author wants to write a badass but doesn't know how. This leads to a character who mistreats everyone around her and is never called out on her abrasive, casually abusive behavior.

Sylvie talked down to Loki and treated him like garbage for all of episode three, but it was never portrayed as a bad thing and we never got any impression Sylvie later felt bad for the way she treated Loki

The author doesn't know how to hold back the character, meaning that she will succeed at practically everything. This means that when she encounters rules or authority figures who would otherwise prevent her from doing what she wants to do, she rolls right through them (and they praise her for her "boldness" in defying regulations). If a bad guy is violent and aggressive, she can beat him by being more violent and aggressive (with all that entails). It's impossible for her to go overboard because she's protected by Protagonist-Centered Morality.

Sylvie is shown as a kid to immediately be able to grab a Tempad and run away.  And she can kick ass way better than Loki, for no known reason.  She is always able to fight back against the TVA when they attack her.  And she can kill lots of innocent TVA agents but it’s okay because TVA bad, Sylvie good.

Skills

She will always be superior to the canon characters, regardless of what canon has established they can do or whether it makes any sense.

Whose skill was needed to defeat Alioth?  Sylvie’s.  Of course.  Sylvie needed to teach Loki her skills in order for him to succeed (!).  And again, she is literally called the superior Loki.

Relatedly, there's no effort to her skills. She never actually trains or learns anything to become more powerful; she just wins the Super Power Lottery, or is a freakish natural learner, or is just Inexplicably Awesome

We’re told Sylvie literally taught herself magic.  She literally taught herself to enchant people.  That. Makes. No. Sense.  Like, I have so many questions.  Like, why would it even occur to her to teach herself that?  And how????????????  This is really lazy writing.

Canon Character Relationships

Mary Sue is often designed to hook up with another character, often as a form of Wish Fulfillment. This isn't that bad in and of itself (okay, it is kinda weird), but Mary Sue accomplishes this without any sense of realism. She just grabs her lover's attention straight away, and their relationship will never face any obstacles or tension; it's true love from the start and nothing else. The biggest giveaway is if the love interest is explicitly the author's favorite character, and she essentially "cures" him of all the angst that ails him (at the expense of his characterization).

Yeah, so...this one should be pretty obvious to anyone who watched the show.  Loki literally falls in love with Sylvie immediately, and then he suddenly turns from “villain” to “hero” just because of loving her.  And this was definitely at the expense of his characterization.  And Loki just knows he falls in love with her.  There’s not even any moments of hmm what do I feel for this person?  It’s just true love, immediately.

She will be related to a canon character in some way. This (marginally) helps explain such phenomena as her being a Copy Cat Sue and other characters accepting her so easily.

Sylvie is a Loki variant.  They use this to help explain why Loki is drawn to her and why their falling in love immediately “makes sense”.

Most characters give her more heed than they normally would. The good guys never stop praising her

Seriously, it was so over the top and OOC for Loki to gush over her.  He literally tells her she’s amazing.  They don’t even make it subtle.

Characters' previously established personalities change in reaction to her. Proud, arrogant gimps suddenly acknowledge her superiority in everything. Reckless youths will listen to all her advice. Responsible leaders will defer to her instead. Villains will obsess with her to the detriment of all else. Extremely competent characters will become stumbling buffoons who require her help to do anything. Sweet, mild-mannered characters whom the author doesn't like turn evil and insult her. They all become unnaturally focused on her in some way.

Again, Loki’s whole personality changed in reaction to her.  He became a buffoon who needed her help to enchant the Alioth because of course he couldn’t do anything without her!  Hunter B-15 goes from doing whatever the TVA said to fighting the TVA just because of Sylvie.

Story Elements

Mary Sue is without exception a single-person Spotlight-Stealing Squad. The entire story hinges on her existence; if you removed her, there would be no story. 

Sylvie undoubtedly drove the whole story this season.  It all became about HER meeting the TVA heads because of HER trauma.  Loki’s life was only saved at the beginning because the TVA was trying to capture HER.  And SHE was the one who started the whole multiverse (!).

Mary Sue is The Chosen One, even if the setting already has one. There are many ways she can accomplish this: she can be a Sailor Earth type who "shares" the position with the canon hero; she may be vaguely "destined to help the destined one fulfill their destiny" (i.e. do all the work except the final blow so that the prophecy is still technically correct); or the canon hero may be revealed to be a Fake Ultimate Hero all along. Being the Chosen One doesn't necessarily involve her being a God-Mode Sue, especially as authors become aware of the phenomenon and try to avoid it, but it does make her critically important to the world and allows her to continue stealing the spotlight without the "god mode" label.

HWR wanted Sylvie to come with Loki in the end, like she was chosen all along right alongside Loki.  Like one of the most important characters in the entire MCU is now this character who we only met a few episodes ago.

Most Sues have an unusually Dark and Troubled Past. It's often used to create a Sympathetic Sue, but any type of Sue can have one

They tell us, over and over, how hard Sylvie’s life was because she was kidnapped by the TVA in order to create sympathy for her.

She almost never does anything wrong. In the rare instance that she does, it's usually; (a) a way for the author to disclaim her being a Mary Sue by introducing a single imperfection (that has no bearing on anything anyway), and (b) designed to show her smarts by making her feel instant remorse, and she'll be Easily Forgiven anyway:

So this one hopefully will not come true, as a lot can change between now and when the show is taped. But if the show goes on the way the behind the scenes team is talking, Sylvie immediately felt remorse for betraying Loki, and Loki has already forgiven her and is desperately looking for her.  Ugh.

Alternatively, she is more than capable of doing something wrong, be it in general moral terms or something that goes against whatever code she abides by, and she maybe even frequently does so, but don't expect the other characters or the narrative to ever acknowledge or comment on it in any real capacity. If the other characters do call her out, expect them to be treated like they're the problem for daring to criticize her at all.

Mobius calls her out for killing people, but Sylvie immediately says he’s a bad person and then Mobius agrees, because, of course.

She will often suffer from Special Snowflake Syndrome; i.e., she has a trait or backstory that sets her apart from her group or race.

She is the only female Loki, thus making her the special one among all the Lokis in episode five.

Presentation

In visual media, the camera just can't stop staring at her.

The camera would follow her in fight scenes rather than Loki.

Mary Sue Tropes

Okay, so there are specific Mary Sue tropes that Sylvie is.  One of those is Copy Cat Sue, which I think was referenced before.

Copy Cat Sue

A lot of fanfic writers...start to write something because of their passion for this character, but they find something about the character that doesn't mesh well. Maybe they're the wrong gender or are otherwise not close enough to the author's expectations...In any case, rather than put them through the Possession Sue process, they just get a Clone-O-Matic™ and out pops a Copy Cat Sue...the character might be intended as a replacement for the canon character, but without whatever icky traits the author hates. They'll then rob the spotlight, prove the canon character to be unworthy of his/her position, and either relegate the character to obsolescence or, perhaps, even remove them entirely.

Sylvie is basically a clone of Loki, she is a variant.  But she absolutely robbed the spotlight of Loki’s, and they literally call her the superior Loki.  I mean, they are literally not even being subtle about this.  And there was a feeling by myself (and a lot of other viewers) that Sylvie might ultimately replace Loki in the MCU. 

Black Hole Sue

Much like a black hole, this is a Mary Sue who "sucks in" the plot and characters to her. Characters will behave outside their personalities, logic will be defied, and rules will be broken for her sake.

Sylvie really does suck up all the plot and Loki definitely behaves outside of his personality just to fit the Sylvie show.

Jerk Sue

A Mary Sue who is mean or maybe even cruel, but are still treated as an ideal person.

Once again, Sylvie is basically a jerk all of episode three, but you’ve got Loki falling over himself to call her amazing in just the next episode.

Relationship Sue

A Mary Sue who exists to be the perfect mate for a specific character...this character has everything in the plot conspiring to enforce this One True Pairing...in Fanfiction, they are the perfect beloved of a canon character.

They literally have Mobius speculate that Loki falling in love with Sylvie is so extraordinary that it causes an entire Nexus event, that’s how huge this One True Pairing is (!).  And Sylvie is the love interest of Loki, the only character who had been around before the beginning of the series

TLDR: Sylvie has all the tropes of a classic Mary Sue character.  So calling Sylvie a Mary Sue isn’t being sexist or just randomly hating on the character.  If you use common Mary Sue characteristics to examine the character, she just has too many of these characteristics to ignore.

[jennana501]

A Case for Rexsoka

I’ve been around the block when it comes to ships. I’ve seen people obsess over them, and I too have been driven mad by obsession. I was a hardcore original avatar fan and I was OBSESSED with shipping Toph and Sokka together. Any time they so much as made an interaction I over analyzed it and picked it apart looking for clues that somehow would prove that my hunches were correct. It was because I related with both characters, and I loved their chemistry. I wanted them to have a romantic relationship because it would feel like some sort of personal validation.

I’m an adult now and nothing has changed. But it has been a while since I’ve desperately shipped two characters together that are not obviously romantically involved with one another, or who could be romantic behind the scenes or beyond the story shown.

Until Rex and Ahsoka.

And I’ve seen people be adamantly against it. 

“No no no it’s just a brother/sister relationship.” 

“No it’s gross she is a child”.

And of course being disagreed with on the internet can drive a person crazy, and instead of individually arguing with dozens of people online, I’m making this post once and for all to explain why I think Rex and Ahsoka have romantic feelings for each other. Especially Rex.

The argument I’ve seen, that their deep passion, commitment, love, admiration, and respect for one another (which are all so obvious you’d have to be...silly to not see it) are felt in a platonic fashion. Which, for the first 6 seasons and 8 episodes, I would totally agree.

But then Ahsoka comes back. And let’s face it. She is a woman. Age wise, she’s around 17, but everything from the maturity of her Lekku (which weirdly don’t get all that longer, especially compared to other Tagrutan women) to her poise and confidence, to her prowess as a warrior, a user of the force, and her ability to command soldiers as well as control her emotions points to her being an adult woman. She’s no Snips anymore; she’s no child. She’s grown up. And how her peers react to her illustrates how they now view her as an adult.

First there is Obi-wan. Obi-wan has always been a mentor to her, a sort of second Master. Obi-wan never hesitated to guide and Ahsoka or offer his council. He is proud of her when she succeeds, and will admonish her when she makes mistakes. When she returns and he sees her as a woman, he changes the way he treats her. He acknowledges her maturity by addressing her as an equal. He doesn’t admonish her. Instead he discusses with her, challenging her ideas and letting her offer an argument for them instead of putting them down and telling her how she should think or act. He also comes to her in his time of need, trusting her to help him with Anakin.

Then there is Anakin. We all know of Anisoka shippers, and they are perfectly able to ship and enjoy said ship, but we can all acknowledge that it is a crack pairing with no basis in the canon. Anakin portrays the perfect kind of brotherly love. He is excited to see Ahsoka, and is stunned by her unexpected reappearance. Things are harder for Anakin because he is used to their fun banter and sibling-like companionship. He’s constantly shut down with her business like manner and he struggles with coming to terms with the fact that she isn’t a little kid sister anymore. She is an adult with a mission and a plan. When he looks at her, he is endearing. He loves her. Admires her. And he can’t wait to pick up where they left off. There’s joy and adoration in his face. He is proud of her and what she has become, but he also feels alienated and even hurt because of how her adulthood has changed their dynamic.

Then there is Rex. When he first sees her, he wants nothing more than to reassure her that she still belongs. The clones had accepted her into their family. As far as they were concerned, she was one of them. When he looks at her for the first time, he’s beaming with the same adoration as he had had for her before, but also with a solemn awe at what she has become and what she has grown into. He welcomes her back into his life without hesitation.

But then there is a moment things shift so drastically that I paused the show and re-watched it half a dozen times. We all know it and love it. This face he gives Ahsoka. The Look.

What we see here is something we have never, EVER seen in Rex for 7 whole seasons. And it is my opinion that this is the first time Rex has been able to feel and express that he is attracted to Ahsoka. In other words, Rex has a sexual awakening.

Up until this point, Rex has been a sexless character. Nothing he does is flirtatious, sexy, or at all suggestive that he has those feelings inside him at all. Every sexual being has a moment where they are first animalistically drawn to another being. Characters who have already had this moment are easy to pick out. Obi wan. Anakin. Ventress. These characters have already experienced their sexual awakening. Ahsoka has too. Lux was her first object of attraction.

But Rex has never had this moment. Until this reaction.

I know some of you might be thinking “but Ahsoka gives a very similar look to Anakin, does that mean she is sexually attracted to HIM?” It’s a very good point. Ahsoka and Anakin share some cheeky playful looks during “Old Friends Not Forgotten”. We see many characters give similar looks to other characters, but does this mean it means the same thing as when Rex does it? The short answer is no.

When animators design a character, they establish the “range of emotion” for that character. You can easily see this when you look back at how many times you see Rex break from his stoic, captain’s face. He rarely laughs, smiles, or emotes in any way. This is why when we see him emote it is exciting to us as an audience. A character like Ahsoka or Anakin commonly show a wide variety of expressions. Ahsoka is much more likely to give a cheeky look than Rex is. So “the look” for Rex, means a lot more when he is doing than it does when another character does it, say Fives or even Obi-Wan.

Which means the writers are trying to tell us something about this moment. 

This moment has changed Rex’s and Ahsoka’s relationship. 

Now does this mean that they are going to go bang each other immediately? Does this mean the second they are alone after “Victory and Death” they start an intense, sexual relationship? Of course not. That’s not what this ship is about at this time. But the reason many of us ship it is because suddenly they don’t feel like brother and sister anymore. It isn’t entirely platonic. And the show does a good job to further emphasize this as they come closer and closer both emotionally, and physically during the finale.

Blocking is a huge factor in visual storytelling. During the finale, Rex and Ahsoka are blocked in a way that makes them as close as physically possible on the screen. This communicates to the audience that they are closer now than they have ever been. As Jedi and Clone Trooper. As friends, and as companions, their bond forged in the fires of war, struggling to find meaning in life as soldiers.

In contrast, look how Ahsoka and Anakin are blocked in their scenes. There is nearly always a gap between them, illustrating that they are distanced from each other emotionally. Rex is even visually inserted into the gap between them in several instances. Anakin and Ahsoka are growing apart, but she and Rex are growing closer.

We get to experience Rex and Ahsoka engaging in actions and conversations that we had rarely seen before. From casual banter, to moments of intense intimacy, to emotional peaks, Rex and Ahsoka interact more in these four episodes than in the previous six seasons. Part of this is because their maturity gap has closed. Ahsoka is finally Rex’s equal in experience and maturity. It is also in part because it is a unique dynamic. No Obi-wan. No Anakin. Rex and Ahsoka are equal leaders of the 332nd. There’s also the fact that they are put into life threatening situations and have no one else but each other.

But there is that “look” that is given at the beginning of all this that suggests something else, that as their bond undoubtedly becomes strong as beskar, there is an element of it that takes their relationship from the platonic to the romantic.

I feel every detail, moment, and piece of dialogue in the finale tells the story of this bond. 

Many instances of their strong emotional bond have been spread throughout the internet, with most ready to acknowledge that they have a connection unlike any other, one that may even be described as a “force” connection. These last four episodes are so exciting because we see two friends reunited, but then we get to watch as their relationship transforms.

Even disregarding their implied attraction to each other physically, they dive into each other and hold on tight. Ahsoka shares deep personal worries with Rex, and Rex and her are shown opening up to each other in ways they have never opened up before.

We were all floored and dumbfounded at scenes such as these that show these characters at their most vulnerable. But they decide to be vulnerable together. Is it because they are all that is left of their 501st family? It part, this is definitely true. But by being this vulnerable they transform their relationship into something very different from what they had before. It will never be the same again, and it will be near impossible to back out of the emotional intimacy that these two have participated in. Once you have formed that kind of an attachment with someone, there is no going back, and as is seen in rebels, these two maintain that strong connection even after years of being apart.

This goes beyond their sexual desires or needs. They’ve forged a bond that cannot be broken. They have shared minds, shared pain and agony that only the other can understand. They’ve been isolated from the world, and all they have left is each other.

And at the end of the series, when we have Rex and Ahsoka broken, their world flip upside down and everything they ever valued or cared about lies in ruins before them, the idea that they still have each other is that beautiful seed of hope Star Wars is so good at preserving. Those of us who believe that their relationship could be romantic want good things for Rex and Ahsoka. We want them to have that love and share it with each other. Maybe only for a few moments, but having known it would be better than both of them living and dying without having that experience. 

When we see the two in Rebels, for me it confirms that these two love each other deeply. But their lives can never be lived in a normal fashion. They cannot even be together as partners in life. The Empire has stolen this from them. The tragedy of this ship is that it can never be the way we want it to be. Rex will age and die long before Ahsoka is even halfway through her own life. They cannot live with one another. They cannot wake each morning with each other, at least not at the point we see them in rebels. 

But they continue to love each other. Even over distance, even knowing that mortality will claim them with only a fraction of the memories that they deserve with one another. 

So please, the next time you see some art or a fic, or a post like this, think of what I had to say. Rexsoka is about two adults, their lives destroyed at the hands of Sidious, but in defiance they still forge a bond that he could never break or take from them. And that to me is beautiful and something to celebrate.

Side note: I spent a ton of time making gifs but they never would work and so I had to use screenshots instead :(

EDIT: At the request of the OG poster of a few gifs, I have replaced them have also made some grammatical changes. 

[samdotdocx]

A very long-winded essay about why I love Night in the Woods and The Ramayana makes me Big Mad ft. Lets Talk About Mental Illness™

So I was in this class called 'The Ecology of Language". Excellent class, 10/10 would recommend - and especially relevant in the Indian context in particular, but that's a topic for another day.

One of the things we talked about was the concept of 'relatibality' in media, which, I'm sure we can all agree is a large component of contemporary character or story-line development. Considering the context of modern readers, what that sometimes ends up looking like (in our society that is built on constantly being told we are lacking, and the subsequent need to satisfy manufactured desires), is some wonderfully nuanced characters in stories stories that are three-dimensional, well rounded, and well developed and written. It's pretty great. And sometimes, what that means is that we have excellent characters that don't conform to the standard 'protagonist' stereotype. They might not even be 'good' (this is NOT a villain-apologist post). In fact, they might be complete idiots. They might be the people in stories who make all the wrong choices.

One such relatable character is Mae, and it's because she's an unmitigated train-wreck.

Anyone who knows the game probably knows what I'm talking about when I say the illustration style and character designs are gorgeous. Anyone who's ever dissociated probably knows what I'm talking about when I say that illustration style and character design were excellently used to create the sort of subliminal, surreal state of Mae's mind. And as you play the game, you see how that state of mind plays with the other characters, and - spoiler - it isn't great.

This is the first of the relatable aspects of Mae’s character; there are people around her who love her and are worried about her, but at the same time, are angry and irritated about her behaviour. At what point does it become too much to ask of those around you to forgive all your continuous and repetitive mistakes? Even if you have a good reason for it, mental illness is not an excuse for being exploitative, even if it is unintentional. Mae is not trying to hurt the people around her, but she constantly needs emotional labour from them – it’s exhausting, and people’s patience is going to run out eventually, as is their right.

Another aspect of this behaviour is the lack of reciprocity, an example of this being when Bea’s mother died of cancer – and Mae didn’t even notice.

There are several instances of Mae’s thoughtless behaviour throughout the game; she gets completely wasted and makes a scene at the party, gets jealous of of Greg and Angus because they’re leaving the town without her, and ends up destroying the radiator Bea was supposed to fix, getting her in trouble.

The thing is though, that Mae is given the opportunity to fix her mistakes.

A large part of relatability is the want so see yourself in a character. Mae is relatable to me because there are several circumstances and events in our lives that match up, but more than that; the game is an interactive visualization of her healing process. Her nine steps, if you will. She is given a second chance – and that chance is hard won, particularly in the context of the game.

Mae talks about feeling like she’s falling behind, of knowing that she is, in a way, wasting an opportunity that was a privilege in the first place, especially considering her family’s financial situation – but at the same time, being literally unable to help herself. And the aspects of the gameplay that hint at the supernatural elements of the story possibly being a figment of Mae’s imagination – well. All us depressed losers know what it's like to not be able to trust your own judgement and point of view. She talks about why she dropped out of college, and her description of the dissociation, and the mental and emotional deadening that it causes is spot on and so well represented.

It underscores the point that the logical brain knows that mental illness is an illness like any other – but the emotional brain doesn’t care.

The game does a brilliant job of laying bare the realities of middle class life, and makes painfully clear the fact that, at that level, it doesn’t matter how difficult things are for you. The world isn’t going to wait for you to get back on your feet.

Mae’s mental state and the limitations it imposes on her cultivates a state of extreme frustration. Again, relatable. It’s an understated aspect of illness of any kind; the anger at yourself, and how that anger carries over into a lot of things in your day to day life. After a point, it becomes a habit. Mae does this too; she's belligerent, and instigative, and unrepentant of consequences, because anger blinds you.

It's not how things will always be. I have the privilege of hindsight, so I can say that with authority. But, this isn’t the kind of thing that ever fully leaves you, either. If you break a kneecap, it’s going to bother you for the rest of your life, and similarly, mental illness has a ‘no return, no refund’ policy. So you grow up, and you try to adapt those habits and impulses into a more positive context. Recycling, right? Maybe you set your sights on things that actually deserve your anger, and you go from there. You find people who, for their own reasons, perhaps or perhaps not related to your own, are angry.

And you don’t understand the people who are not.

A large part of the anger and frustration surrounding mental illness is due to the stigma surrounding it. It’s frustrating to be so powerless and dependent, but this is exacerbated by the attitude of ‘it can’t be that bad’, which makes it so difficult to reach out, to be able to say, ‘I need a break’ – and actually get one. This is an attitude that carries over to a lot of other issues as well, and the worst part is – we are surrounded by people who are okay with it, who believe in and support that mentality.

The myth of Sita, for example. She is a strong female figure in Indian mythology, who overcomes her circumstances to live a ‘good’ life, and for all intents and purposes, is a hell of a role model.

But that’s the thing; her life wasn’t good, was it? She was supposed be a goddess reincarnated, she should have been powerful, and respected, but instead she is reduced to ‘wife’ – and everyone today is fine with it.

I respect her immensely for the choices she made; marrying for love was her choice, going into exile with her husband was her choice. She was the paragon of virtue, of 'wifeliness', of kindness – she chose her husband over everyone and everything else, including herself, as was expected of her. But yet – she couldn't win his trust or respect. It should not even have needed to be won.

It’s commendable the way she takes it all in stride, but why did she? She was kidnapped and held captive for years, entirely against her will, and her husband's response to that is to force her to walk through fire to prove her ‘purity’ – and she does it. And she stays with him after, and I cannot understand the depths of her patience and forgiveness, because I would have been livid, and I want her to be so too. I’m furious for her, because Ram was not just her husband, he was also the king, and his later verdict to exile her, alone, while heavily pregnant, his readiness to condemn her based on speculation and public sentiment, was not just a verdict against her, it was against every woman in his kingdom who had ever been victimised.

Sita became a martyr to the modern feminist movement – if she could not be angry on her own behalf, we will do it for her. But at the same time, she is still relatable, because we are held to a slightly lesser degree of the same expectations. There are always going to be aspects of things that you relate to. ‘Big Mood’ culture is a strong indicator of the human ability to empathise, especially with characters that you like, or respect.

Sita’s world, I imagine, was run by the expectations her society and community had of her, and maybe she didn’t even have the liberty to be angry. Who is responsible for portraying her in passive acceptance of her fate? Is that representation reliable? Would the story have been different had it been written by a woman?

I can't remember a time when I was not angry, especially about things like this. I am always ready to fight, and I think the same goes for so many other people today, sometimes to our detriment. I cannot imagine a world where that was not at the very least an option. Not necessarily the best option, - but Sita’s world was very different to ours. Even with centuries between us, we’ve just gotten over angry and depressed women being labelled as ‘hysterical’ and subsequently being locked away. What is it like, to have to be calm and careful in response to being treated like this? This care in response may not be an overt requirement anymore – though the fact remains that society will not take you seriously if you become hysterical - but shouldn't you, at the very least, be able to rely on the support of other people in the same boat?

That is the main difference in these stories, and another main point of relatability to me; Mae, like myself, had a support system. Sita did not. Mae was selfish and demanding in so many ways, and required a lot of time and patience and healing before she was able to give back, but she got there eventually because she was able to put herself first. She fought for herself, and when she couldn’t, she had other people to fight for her. Night in the Woods represents the intersection of oppressed minorities and community with their portrayal of Mae, Greg, and Angus in particular, and the importance of community support – and, the difference between geographical community, and communities formed through camaraderie and actual unity. And so does the Ramayana - except, where was Sita’s community? Where were her sisters, or her parents, when she was abandoned in the woods, and later when she committed suicide? We are well aware, in the modern day, of the state of mind that causes people to kill themselves, and yet that is a part of the story that we never talk about. Where were her people then?

What would have happened if she had been more like Mae, and put herself first instead of bleeding herself dry for people who never respected her, and would never do the same for her?

People relate to personalities. They relate to choices, and circumstances, and habits, and it is neither a good nor a bad thing, to be relatable or not. Sita will be highly relatable to people who, like her, were governed by their circumstances, and were screwed over despite their best efforts. People who felt they couldn’t, or shouldn’t exercise their power and agency. Sita’s death was at odds with her strong personality, and so was her deference to her fate on many occasions, but there are a lot of people out there who will relate to the feeling of simply wanting things to be over. Mae on the other hand; she’s a steamroller, and she doesn’t stop. There’s a reason her character is a cat, and jokingly referred to as feral in the game. She is persistent, she is growing.

[1] In Defence of Kaikeyi and Draupadi: a Note – by Fritz Blackwellhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/23334398?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents [2] https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/10/emergency-room-wait-times-sexism/410515/

[herefm]

🌟 Spotlight: Niege Borges

A canvas for (almost) limitless creativity, Here lets you create spaces that let you fully express yourselves. But sometimes, we need a little inspiration. Welcome to Here Spotlight, a series of interviews with some of our favorite artists and creatives out in the world.

Niege Borges is a Brazilian visual artist and graphic designer based in Brooklyn, New York. Her work is colorful, vibrant and playful. She likes to portray women, gender fluid people and explore different races and body shapes. Some of her clients include: Instagram, Apple, TikTok, Nike and Sephora.

Tell us a little bit about yourself, and how you found your footing into your career!

I was born in Brazil and studied graphic design there. I always loved art and was always creating something. I worked as graphic designer and illustrator in an agency in Brazil for a short period of time and then began freelancing full time. I moved to New York in 2015 and that helped me to see that I wanted to invest more time in my personal illustration work, which evolved and I started working on more projects that were my own visual aesthetic.

What inspires you as a creative?

Of course the internet inspires me a lot, I see a lot of fashion photoshoots and runaways online that inspire me, as well social media content. But besides that I love to get inspirations from walking around in the city, looking at art in galleries and museums, watching live performances and people watching in New York.

What makes your process unique? How do you express yourself in ways that may be different from others in your field?

I think everyone brings different references and stories that when combined can become something really unique, so I think that a lot of factors that brought me to where I am today influence the way I create and what I create.

What was a challenge that felt pivotal in your creative journey? How did you overcome it?

I had periods where I had a lot of commissions at the same time and I had to learn how to say no if I'm too busy. We are always scared to lose a client if we say no once but it is important to learn to not overwork yourself. I learned that it's ok to say no sometimes when I realized that working too much in certain periods wasn't good for my mental and physical health.

What are some of the musicians, artists or makers that you are excited about right now? What about them spark your imagination?

I love Nadia Lee Cohen's work, I love her way of bringing us into these eccentric worlds and portraying unique people. Chiquitettas is a performer based in Brooklyn that besides being beautiful and having amazing looks, she also organizes a lot of events and I can see how she is important to the drag, trans and LatinX community despite of her young age, which is really inspiring. Luiz Moreira is an amazing Brazilian photographer and I really like the way he photographs different body shapes and also how he incorporates a lot of the Brazilian culture into his work.

What gives you hope ?

That no matter what happens there will always be people creating beautiful things that can bring joy and inspire in different ways.

Do you have any advice for someone who is just getting started in their career?

To never stop creating even if you don't feel very confident and put your work out there, someone will like what you do, even if you don't think it's perfect. I hear that a lot of illustrators are afraid of putting stuff out there because their work "is not ready" - just upload it and if you don't like that art at some point anymore remember that you can always delete things from your portfolio or Feed later.

We are in currently in the 2022 Pride month! What excites you about Pride? What are your hopes and fears for the LGBTQ+ community this year and in the future?

I love Pride and how LGBTQ+ people can be celebrated and also reflect one the progress that we had all these years thanks to the people that were brave to come out and fight for LGBTQ+ rights. I am happy to think that probably a lot of people will be coming out this month and will be celebrated or at least will be doing the first step to live life the way that they want to. I am in New York which is a safe enough city for LGBTQ+ people but I always think of my home country Brazil and how there are a lot of places there where it is not safe to be out and proud. I hope that the LGBTQ+ community can continue to inch closer towards equality, especially our trans brothers and sisters.

Check out more Spotlights from Here and try out Niege's "New York Commute" template on Here.fm!

[mcnuggyy]

Hey anon, I actually really dislike this person’s designs for multiple reasons and I would rather not state their name because that is very counterproductive imo, but I will explain the issues I have because I think it’s important to be aware of them and to avoid them.

1) The muting of multiple character’s of colors skin tones. This issue has been brought up with the artist before (they are white), and they had simply brushed it off because Kravitz is well not exactly alive. But there are multiple wonderful tutorials out there on how to draw undead, zombie, vampire, ghost, etc. poc WITHOUT white washing them, graying them out, etc. I get that it may also be their style but overall having a white artist continue to gray out the poc they are trying to depict does not sit well with me. 

Here are just a few tutorials that go more into this issue:

 X  ,  X  ,  X  ,  X   

Also some lovely examples of good designs for black undead characters!

X , X , X , X , 

2) Sometimes their Lup and Taako look extremely similar to the point where it can be hard to distinguish them, again I understand that their style is a bit on the simpler side, as is mine! but there are ways to ensure that people aren’t struggling to figure out who is who... Sometimes their Taako is drawn in hyperfeminine clothing, to the point where he may appear more feminine than his sister, a trans woman. This can become an issue. Both in terms of homophobia, as Taako canonically is not really very feminine at all asides from wearing a skirt once, and transmisogynistic, where it becomes a game of “guess which one’s Lup LOL” which is... obviously a big problem. I hope I don’t have to explain why, I feel like this is OBVIOUS. 

Make sure they each feel like their own characters! Read up on transmisogynistic tropes and caricatures, and talk to some gay men and trans women!! This has made many of my friends uncomfortable for a long time and I think we might need to start discussing this a bit more in this fandom specifically. 

(also weird that I have to say this but, I have no issue’s with hyperfeminine men or trans-masc characters who wear dresses and skirts and shit, i mean come on, look at me and my art and my oc’s, the issue is, that is NOT who Taako is.... like at all. Justin McElroy himself has clearly stated his discomfort with this portrayal of Taako as well. So like please be mindful of that and who Taako is. Like come on. Same with Lup! Trans women do not owe anyone hyperfeminity obviously, BUT yet again the idea of a “masculine” Lup IS WAY off from canon. That is NOT her, and it is transmisogynistic to portray her in that way.) 

3)  I don’t want to be mean but I don’t think this artist knows how to draw black people... I know their art is much more stylized than most, but from further analyzing their work, I think they really need to practice drawing characters of color and making it work for their style! There’s always room to grow and improve, and I’m obviously still learning, but there are countless ways and examples on how to draw poc in a more cartoony style WITHOUT resorting to racist caricature. Right now both their white, brown, and black characters have very much the same facial features. If you removed the color from their Kravitz, Barry, and Taako design, there would all look white, and that’s an issue. 

Hope this make’s sense! Please do not ask me who this artist is or to  “call them out” or something... Just be mindful of these issues, avoid them, and try to just talk to people when you notice any of these problems in their art. It get’s exhausting having to explain this to white artists sometimes. I wish people would just do the homework themselves, but sometimes people really are just unaware, ya know? 

You can still enjoy this artist’s work, but please be aware of this, I personally always welcome criticism of my work of course, how else am I meant to learn! So if you feel any of this may apply to you please consider taking the time to analyze your own artwork and address any issues you may have! 

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 39 - Finland's female Prime Minister wears a suit with no bra. Indecent? Sexist?

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome. Well...

J: Hahaha

K: This suits you (*pointing to Tokyo Sports hoodie that Joe is wearing*)

J: Oh thank you. Im starting to quite like it.

T: Im glad.

J: There is also a Tokyo Sports logo here on the end of the sleeve, so even if you are wearing a jacket, you can show it.

T: Thank you, haha.

J: So, (*To Tasai*) Im waiting for a job.

T: Thank you, lets do something.

K: Haha

J: Lets do something.

K: Ok, Joe, today's news please.

J: Yes, ok. 'Finland's female Prime Minister wears a suit with no bra. Indecent? Sexist?' 34 year old Northern European Prime Minister, Sanna Marin, appeared in a magazine wearing a jacket which exposed slight clevage, causing an unexpected stir. While parts of social media labelled this 'indecent', and 'inappropriate', other voices have been raised claiming this backlash is sexist, because a male politician appearing even half-naked in a magazine would not face the same criticism. Elected at the end of last year, Prime Minister Marin is notable as her country's youngest ever Prime Minister. She was interviewed by the fashion magazine, sold this month in Finland, and was  portrayed as a role model, wearing a black suit. It appeared as if she was wearing the jacket with no bra, and her clevage was slightly visible below an elaborately designed necklace. Parts of social media responded that, 'It looks cheap', 'I've lost trust in her', 'She's trying to stand out'.

Well, if you search for this you will be able to find the image. Firstly, when I had a look, I didn't think it was all that indecent.

K: Yeah.

J: Kaoru, how do you feel about this?

K: Well, I feel like there is always gonna be someone who complains.

J: Yeah, so those who are defending PM Marin say that, for example, with that photo of Putin going fishing topless, or that photo which was posted of him jogging in floral patterned shorts in winter...People are asking why it is ok to show naked photos of male leaders, but indecent for a female leader to show a tiny bit of clevage? This had led to some claims of sexism. I think this is a difficult problem. (*To Tasai*)What does the expert on clevages have to say about this?

K: Are you an expert?

T: Haha, it has been said about me. Well, recently at Tokyo Sports, we've had a lot of articles concerning sex. Like, things that really make you think 'it this sexist against men? Or is this sexist against women?' I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a man or a woman. Its like women will point out sexism if they see it, but as a man, even if I think the same inside, I will question myself.*1

J: I see, men are bad at expressing feelings?

T: Yeah, so i've been thinking a lot about what it all means.

J: I see.

Kami: Um..

J: Oh, Kami's here.

Kami: Do you think people with small boobs are jealous of her clevage?

J: Oh, that?

Kami: As for me, I don't even mind if there is no clevage.

J: I see.

Kami: I probably even prefer small boobs.

J: You like small boobs?

Kami: I think they are better. But this photo, however you look at it, its a nice photo, isn't it?

J: Yes, its a good photo, right?

Kami: So maybe the people complaining about her clevage are just jealous because they have no clevage. I feel like that might be it.

T: Well, we don't know whether the people complaining were men or women though.

J: Yeh, we don't know that. We can't say.

K: It could be either.

Kami: So, Kami, are you saying 'Don't worry about the size of your clevage!'? Like, 'Its ok, don't worry about it!'

Kami: Yeah. Its whats on the inside that counts.

J: Thats it.

K: Yeah.

Kami: Either is ok.

K: But this is a fashion magazine, right?

J: Yeah. So PM Marin isn't wearing this type of thing for public affairs, its for this magazine. And I don't think this was only her idea. With a fashion magazine, there will be the director and the stylist etc, so she will have been shot in this way in oder to properly show off the fashion. So, even if you attack this, it is what it is. What do these complainers think is indecent about it?

K: Well, no matter what you do, you will always get opinions from both sides.

J: Well, of course, yes.

Kami: Its these small-boobed people who are attacking her.

K: He's particular about this, haha.

Kami: Its the truth. No mistake.

J: Attacking her like, 'Don't brag about your boobs!'?

Kami: Yes, thats it. They don't like the bragging. No mistake!

J: No mistake?

Kami: No mistake.

J: Haha, well if Kami has no doubts, maybe thats it.

T:Well, there may be some women who don't like hearing that*2

J: Like, Kami is doing sexual harassment?

T: Well, he is just saying his honest opinion as a man. But a man wouldn't say this looks cheap, would he? Or that they'd loose trust in her, or that she's trying to stand out? What do you think?

K: Even if she is trying to stand out, whats wrong with that?

J: Yeah, if people pay attention to this and see her a politician, it might draw more interest into politics, or spread awareness of her policies, so in that way, its a kind of promotion.

K: So its not really anyone's business to say 'It looks cheap' and stuff.

J: Yeah. But it doesn't look cheap, does it? From what I can see.

T: No, it looks nice.

Kami: Oh, I've just realised something.

J: What is it, Kami?

Kami: There may actually be a mistake about when I said 'there's no mistake' before.

J: Ah, tell us what it is.

Kami: She's a politician, right? She is being criticized as a politician, so it might be the small-boobed of the Opposition Party criticizing her. 

K, T, J: Hahaha

J: No way! Really?

Kami: Yeah. The small-boobed of the Opposition.

J: I see.

T: Thats interesting.

J: So its like criticism of the administration?

Kami: Yes.

J: Political affairs, right? But I think PM Marin will be quite happy with this

T: Yeah, I bet she didn't expect it to turn into such a talking point.

J: But 'the small-boobed Opposition'...?

K: Haha, its a new phrase.

J: A first for humanity! Small-boobed Opposition!

T: I wanna search for it on my computer later.

J: I bet you won't get any results.

T: Haha.

J: Its only just been said...'Small-boobed Opposition'.

T: Incredible, right?

J: Haha. But conversely, what if it were a Japanese female politician appearing like this?

T: How would that go?

J: Yeah, how would it? Are there any Japanese politicians we'd like to appear in fashion magazines..

K: Its not really like we want them to appear, the editors want to feature them.

T: There isn't really anyone I'd like them to pick up on specifically.

J: Yeah. Well, the conclusion here is that PM Marin looks great.

K: Yeah, I think thats it.

J: No mistake.

K: It reminds me of when former Hanshin player Shinjo (Tsuyoshi) san returned from Nippon Ham, he was all over the magazines.

T: Oh yeah.

K: Its great, isn't it?

J: Yes, it is.

K: Ok, well...let's finish here.

J: Before Kami says anything else.

K: Thank you very much. Please subscribe.

*1,2 Slightly unsure about these bits.

[nealiios]

The Supernatural 70s: Part I - Corruption of An Innocent

"We're mutants. There's something wrong with us, something very, very wrong with us. Something seriously wrong with us - we're soldiers writers."

-- with apologies to the screenwriter of "Stripes"

Dear reader, I have the darkest of revelations to make to you, a truth when fully and wholly disclosed shall most assuredly chill you to the bone, a tale that shall make you question all that you hold to be true and good and holy about my personal history. While you may have come in search of that narrative designer best known for his works of interactive high fantasy, you should know that he is also a crafter of a darker art, a scribbler of twisted tales filled with ghosts, and ghouls, and gargoyles. I am, dear innocent, a devotee of horrors! Mwahahahaha!

[cue thunderclap, lightning, pipe organ music]

Given the genre of writing for which most of you know me, I forgive you if you think of me principally as a fantasy writer. I don't object to that classification because I do enjoy mucking about with magic and dark woods and mysterious ancient civilizations. But if you are to truly know who I am as a writer, you must realize that the image I hold of myself is principally as a creator of weird tales.

To understand how and why I came to be drawn to this sub-genre of fantastic fiction, you first must understand that I come from peculiar folks. Maybe I don't have the Ipswich look, or I didn't grow up in a castle, but my pedigree for oddity has been there from the start. My mother was declared dead at birth by her doctor, and often heard voices calling to her in the dead of night that no one else could hear. Her mother would periodically ring us up to discuss events in our lives about which she couldn't possibly have known. My father's people still share ghost stories about a family homestead that burned down mysteriously in the 1960s. Even my older brother has outré memories about events he says cannot possibly be true, and as a kid was kicked off the Tulsa city bookmobile for attempting to check out books about UFOs, bigfoot, and ESP. It's fair to say I was doomed - or destined - for weirdness from the start.

If the above listed circumstances had not been enough, I grew up in an area where neighbors whispered stories about a horrifically deformed Bulldog Man who stalked kids who "parked" on the Old North Road near my house. The state in which I was raised was rife with legends of bigfoots, deer women, and devil men. Even in my childhood household there existed a pantheon of mythological entities invented explicitly to keep me in line. If I was a good boy, The Repairman would leave me little gifts of Hot Wheels cars or candy. If I was being terrible, however, my father would dress in a skeleton costume, rise from the basement and threaten to drag me down into everlasting hellfire (evidently there was a secret portal in our basement.) There were monsters, monsters EVERYWHERE I looked in my childhood world. Given that I was told as a fledgling writer to write what I knew, how could anyone have been surprised that the first stories I wrote were filled with the supernatural?

"The Nightmare" by John Henry Fuseli (1781)

My formative years during the late sixties and early seventies took place at a strange juncture in our American cultural history. At the same time that we were loudly proclaiming the supremacy of scientific thought because we'd landed men on the moon, we were also in the midst of a counter cultural explosion of interest in astrology, witchcraft, ghosts, extra sensory perception, and flying saucers. Occult-related books were flying off the shelves as sales surged by more than 100% between 1966 and 1969. Cultural historians would come to refer to this is as the "occult boom," and its aftershocks would impact popular cultural for decades to come.

My first contact with tales of the supernatural were innocuous, largely sanitized for consumption by children. I vividly remember watching Casper the Friendly Ghost and the Disney version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I read to shreds numerous copies of both Where the Wild Things Are and Gus the Ghost. Likely the most important exposure for me was to the original Scooby Doo, Where Are You? cartoon which attempted to inoculate us from our fears of ghosts and aliens by convincing us that ultimately the monster was always just a bad man in a mask. (It's fascinating to me that modern incarnations of Scooby Doo seem to have completely lost this point and instead make all the monsters real.)

ABOVE: Although the original cartoon Scooby Doo, Where Are You? ran only for one season from 1969 to 1970, it remained in heavy reruns and syndication for decades. It is notable for having been a program that perfectly embodied the conflict between reason and superstition in popular culture, and was originally intended to provide children with critical thinking skills so they would reject the idea of monsters, ghosts, and the like. Ironically, modern takes on Scooby Doo have almost entirely subverted this idea and usually present the culprits of their mysteries as real monsters.

During that same time, television also introduced me to my first onscreen crush in the form of the beautiful and charming Samantha Stevens, a witch who struggles to not to use her powers while married to a frequently intolerant mortal advertising executive in Bewitched. The Munsters and The Addams Family gave me my first taste for "goth" living even before it would become all the rage in the dance clubs of the 1980s. Late night movies on TV would bring all the important horror classics of the past in my living room as Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, the Phantom of the Opera, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Godzilla all became childhood friends. Over time the darkened castles, creaking doors, foggy graveyards, howling wolves, and ever present witches and vampires became so engrained in my psyche that today they remain the "comfort viewing" to which I retreat when I'm sick or in need of other distractions from modern life.

ABOVE: Elizabeth Montgomery starred in Bewitched (1964 - 1972) as Samantha Stephens, a witch who married "mortal" advertising executive Darren Stephens (played for the first five seasons by actor Dick York). Inspired by movies like I Married a Witch (1942) and Bell, Book and Candle (1958), it was a long running series that explored the complex relationship dynamics between those who possess magic and those who don't. Social commentators have referred to it as an allegory both for mixed marriages and also about the challenges faced by minorities, homosexuals, cultural deviants, or generally creative folks in a non heterogeneous community. It was also one of the first American television programs to portray witches not as worshippers of Satan, but simply as a group of people ostracized for their culture and their supernatural skills.

Even before I began elementary school, there was one piece of must-see gothic horror programming that I went out of my way to catch every day. Dark Shadows aired at 3:30 p.m. on our local ABC affiliate in Tulsa, Oklahoma which usually allowed me to catch most of it if I ran home from school (or even more if my mom or brother picked me up.) In theory it was a soap opera, but the show featured a regular parade of supernatural characters and themes. The lead was a 175 year old vampire named Barnabas Collins (played by Johnathan Frid), and the show revolved around his timeless pursuit of his lost love, Josette. It was also a program that regularly dealt with reincarnation, precognition, werewolves, time travel, witchcraft, and other occult themes. Though it regularly provoked criticism from religious groups about its content, it ran from June of 1966 until it's final cancellation in April of 1971. (I would discover it in the early 1970s as it ran in syndication.) Dark Shadows would spin off two feature-length movies based on the original, a series of tie-in novels, an excellent reboot series in 1991 (starring Ben Cross as Barnabas), and a positively embarrassingly awful movie directed by Tim Burton in 1991.

ABOVE: Johnathan Frid starred as Barnabas Collins, one of the leading characters of the original Dark Shadows television series. The influence of the series cannot be understated. In many ways Dark Shadows paved the way for the inclusion of supernatural elements in other soap operas of the 1970s and the 1980s, and was largely responsible for the explosion of romance novels featuring supernatural themes over the same time period.

While Dark Shadows was a favorite early television program for me, another show would prove not only to be a borderline obsession, but also a major influence on my career as a storyteller. Night Gallery (1969-1973) was a weekly anthology television show from Rod Serling, better known as the creator and host of the original Twilight Zone. Like Twilight Zone before it, Night Gallery was a deep and complex commentary on the human condition, but unlike its predecessor the outcomes for the characters almost always skewed towards the horrific and the truly outré. In "The Painted Mirror," an antiques dealer uses a magic painting to trap an enemy in the prehistoric past. Jack Cassidy plots to use astral projection to kill his romantic rival in "The Last Laurel" but accidentally ends up killing himself. In "Eyes" a young Stephen Spielberg directs Joan Crawford in a story about an entitled rich woman who plots to take the sight of a poor man. Week after week it delivered some of the best-written horror television of the early 1970s.

In retrospect I find it surprising that I was allowed to watch Night Gallery at all. I was very young while it was airing, and some of the content was dark and often quite shocking for its time. Nevertheless, I was so attached to the show that I'd throw a literal temper tantrum if I missed a single, solitary episode. If our family needed to go somewhere on an evening that Night Gallery was scheduled, either my parents would either have to wait until after it had aired before we left, or they'd make arrangements in advance with whomever we were visiting to make sure it was okay that I could watch Night Gallery there. I was, in a word, a fanatic.

ABOVE: Every segment of Night Gallery was introduced by series creator Rod Serling standing before a painting created explicitly for the series. Director Guillermo del Toro credits Serling's series as being the most important and influential show on his own work, even more so than the more famous Twilight Zone.

[thatgirlwritingficsatnight]

Odi et Amo I

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

Catullus, 85

After a few years of working in the USA for Disney and playing the role of The White Fox in Marvel Cinematic Universe you came back to your motherland - Korea only to be greeted with hatred and contempt. To make things harder for you the universe sends you the most irritating neighbour ™. Will you be able to find your happiness and  accomplish your dream of becoming loved actress in Korea without complying with standards of patriarchal society?

pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

genre: actor au

warnings: angst, foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 5582

A/N: Hi this is my first fanfic ever, and so there are few things I have to say before you hopefully enjoy reading it. 1. English is not my first language so there may be some grammatical errors. I’m sorry, perhaps in the future there will be someone to proofread my works. 2. I’m terribly sorry for my interpunction :( for some reason they don’t teach it here  and so it may be terrible. I am reading about it more but it’s not easy for me as I haven’t practiced enough. I’m really sorry if it’s awkward. 3. This was supposed to be long oneshot, but I was told not all people enjoy long reads on tumblr like I do, so I decided to make a miniseries out of it. Let me know if you enjoyed it and if you want me to write some scenarios, or post more of my works (i have a lot of them in the depths of my drive lol). Love, thatgirlwritingficsatnight.

***

You sat in spacious sofa in your old apartment in Korea. A sigh leaving your lips as you looked through the headlines.

"The black sheep of Korean show biz comes back after four years in USA"

"Whose heart will she eat now? National heartbreaker came back to Korea"

"Go back to USA you wh*re! - internet went wild over L/N Y/N"

"L/N Y/N comes back in outrageous style"

Most of them were a summary or perhaps a reminder for k-netizens why they should hate you; it's because you dated who you wanted to and for how long you wanted to, it's because this one time in the talk show you told off male host when he kept asking about your private life and because the other time you told another one to stop giving you all the questions about clothes and make up while your male co-star got to answer some deep questions about character development and that's to name the few reasons that came instantly to your mind. Of course some articles had to focus on your airport fashion too. The conservative Korean society had a problem with your bra, or rather a lack of thereof under your designer t-shirt. You left out an irritated groan as you scrolled to the comments. They were vicious and vulgar, you don't know what else did you expect honestly. You tossed the phone and buried your face in your hands fighting the urge to tweet something about the nasty people and how they should keep their antediluvian opinions to themselves. You sighed again perhaps if you were in a different country you'd do that, but here with systematic misogyny, where women were supposed to always smile and nod their heads, here where they got paid 60% of men's pay... you'd most likely be crucified. Then again who if not you would come to your defense? You knew the answer — no one, that realization was enough to anger you even more. The blood was boiling inside you as you snatched your phone back and went into Twitter silently mouthing apologies to your manager who'd be blowing your phone in just a few minutes.

 "Yes, I don't wear bras. No, it's not a topic for your article nor your problem. I also know it may shock some people but my dating life is not a topic for your entertainment either."

"It baffles me how Korean society thinks its country is in the group of one of the most civilized ones but still treats women as if we were stuck in 50s."

  Your phone was already blowing with notifications, you could see some new articles already popping and soon after that it buzzed as your manager tried to reach you. You silenced your phone and left it on the coffee table while you moved to the kitchen. You got yourself a lamp of wine and watched always busy streets of Seoul from a window. It was already dark and it looked like rivers of light with cars and street lights constantly illuminating them. You were deep in your thoughts as you pondered if you made a good decision. You had a good life in California. You had your best friend there, a house with a pool and many good opportunities for roles you declined. In those four years you became an international star after your role as Marvel's White Fox — a gumiho superhero. You knew in a year or two Disney would ask you to come back to make more movies and most likely you would but you couldn't stay in the USA any longer. Somehow, even though it seemed illogical considering the warm welcome you've got, you still missed your home. You missed Korea the country that loved to hate you. You weren't exaggerating when you said they loved to hate you, for instance you always played villains in Korean films and dramas and the Korean audience loved it. They loved to hate your characters and so every time you tried to audition for a role that would be first or second lead you'd always be cast as the villain. The very first time you played a good character was when you portrayed the White Fox for Marvel, they chose you because you were half American (on your father's side) and because you used to play femme fatales and that was kinda the character. You accepted the role secretly hoping that it would change the way Korea has seen you. It didn't. They said you were too Westernised and that you weren't true Korean and had their own perfect casting with actresses that weren't as scandalous as you. Well, at least the rest of the world loved you. Nonetheless, you came back. You still weren't sure if it was a good idea or for how long, or even if you'd work here or just relax; you were just happy you could eat unhealthy convenience store food whenever you felt like and that kimchi was a standard and not something you'd only find in specific shops. Speaking of, you craved some ramyun with cheese and perhaps some yakult as well. You changed your clothes into a pair of black sweats and a black hoodie and chose to wear a black cap and face mask as well. You checked yourself in a huge mirror in the corridor. Your outfit screamed two things: first was "I am a crazy murderer from drama" and and second "look at me I'm a celebrity". You sighed. Honestly what else could you wear? You decided not to change and went out to the nearest convenience store.

You walked slowly taking your time to get to the store while listening to Def Soul hoping lazy beats would calm your nerves. You bopped your head to the rhythm as you entered the store and went straight into ramyun section. You picked your favourite spicy one and grabbed some cheese, yakult and cherry coke. The girl working there seemed really young and you caught her yawning. She apologized and you smiled warmly although she probably couldn't see it through the mask.

"Don't worry about it I'm tired today as well." you said, and she smiled. You paid with a card and regretted not withdrawing any money so that you could tip her. You remember when you were just a bit younger than her, working in similar way but back in the USA; she’d appreciate extra cash. You took the ramyun to prepare it and hummed as you waited for the noodles to get soft. Food always got you to feel better. You were spreading cheese on your noodles when middle-aged men entered the shop. Soon you'd believe it's not your night or perhaps that you got some bad karma, or that you were just cursed. The men came up to the cashier and asked for a pack of cigarettes. You were about to slurp the first noodles when he spoke.

"When will you finish your shift cutie maybe I can pick you up?" He chuckled and the girl tried to smile politely although anyone with eyes could see how uncomfortable she felt. She tried to decline his advances with a small scared voice clearly she was too young to feel comfortable enough to just curse him out.

"You sluts are always the same. You smile at me flirt with me and then act all fucking.."

"Aish!" you didn't let him finish. And he turned your way surprised someone else was in the store. "I lost all appetite," you dropped the chopsticks next to the bowl and moved your gaze at the male: disgust was rolling off from you in waves, and he flinched upon meeting your eyes, "then again who wouldn't if they had to eat in the presence of trash?" You watched as his face got all red and furious, it seemed almost twisted now. "How dare you speak like that to me, you bi..." once again he couldn't finish his sentence this time you silenced him with your swift actions. You closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed his hand firmly. Then you put it behind his back and twisted it painfully enough for him to groan.

"Call me a bitch, I dare you." you said quietly, but he didn't respond, he just jerked trying to escape your hold. He smelled like tobacco, digested alcohol and grease. You scrunched your nose and took him out of the store. You pushed him lightly, and yet he still lost balance and fell. He shot you a glare full of hate and fury while you tried to remain calm. Truth to be told you were scared, yes you jumped in to help the girl, and successfully silenced him, but that was most likely only because he wasn't sober. You were silently asking universe to help you out as you mustered your courage and played your part of "fearless Y/N”.

"Leave or I'll call the police and tell them you harassed both me and the girl." He stood up and spit under your legs before he left. You sighed, a tight knot unravelling itself finally in your belly, adrenaline that was brought up with the surge of fury disappearing now, leaving you bit wobbly. You made mental note to thank the director of The White Fox for making you take those material arts classes, they came in handy. You came back to the store, you didn’t pay attention to the girl that watched you in awe. You just wanted to enjoy your noodles. Finally, able to take the bite you let out disgusted groan they got too soft. Letting out resigned sigh you opened the yakult.

"Miss Y/N.." small voice started next to you. The girl was blushing and smiling. She was cute, had long brown hair and a mole just under her left eye. You smiled back and it seemed to encourage her. "Thank you. You are like the coolest unnie ever. I will always support you and fight anyone that calls you names and.." You chuckled at her eagerness and sudden flood of words. "Thanks kid. What's your name? "Kim Seoyun." "Nice to meet you Kim Seoyun. I'm L/N Y/N." you said with a smile, and she blushed even more. You looked through the window and bit the inside of your cheek. What if he comes back when you're gone, you couldn’t risk it. "Tell me Seoyun when do you end your shift?" She took out a phone from her pocket. "Oh, in ten minutes." "Great I'll wait for you and order you a taxi." "Ah, unnie you don't have to… you already helped me enough and.." "Nonsense", you cut her off "he may come back and I'll sleep better knowing you are safe at home."

She nodded and came back to work. Leaving you with your soggy and lukewarm noodles. You thought about throwing it out but you hated wasting food and so you made yourself eat at least a bit although now it was cold and awfully soft. Ten minutes passed rather quickly and soon you found yourself standing next to the taxi with Seoyun. You gestured her to get in, but she stood in front of you and suddenly bowed deeply while extending her hands in front of you. Much to your surprise she was giving you a popsicle.

"Y/N-unnie I know it's not much but I wanted to thank you..."

You grinned at her while taking the gift. You quickly unwrapped it and tried it, it was strawberry flavoured.

"Thank you. It's the best popsicle I've ever had." You said honestly. Seoyun blushed and entered the car but before the taxi took off she lowered the car window and screamed.

"Y/N-unnie from today I'm your biggest fan! Unnie fighting!" You laughed.

"Mmm. Thank you!" After that car took off and you happily walked back home. Earphones in, phone in your hand as you decided to order some food since the ramyun sadly haven't been quite satisfying. You slurped at the popsicle even though it was the time of year when nights got colder. The taste of strawberries melted on your tongue. It was the first time someone in Korea told you they were your fan, it was also the first time a Korean fan gave you a gift. Despite the chilly air, and cold ice against your lips you felt warmth spreading from your chest. Grinning to yourself, you scrolled through different restaurants still thinking of what should you eat and then you bumped into someone or rather someone bumped into you. Popsicle fell to the ground and so did your phone with earphones brutally torn out from your ears. The man who bumped into you was in a very similar attire as your own he even wore a mask and a cap. You frowned upon realizing the gift from your first Korean fan was melting next to you. You were however about to apologize before he spoke in irritated tone while collecting some boxes scattered around you two.

"Next time watch where you're going." The blood inside you boiled the third time this evening and you snapped back at him before he could add anything else.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going." your tone was so aggressive it was clear all of the frustrations from today's evening build up in you. You gathered your things quickly.

"Excuse me..." he said straightening as he glared at you. His tone was promising a fight or a lecture at least. You didn't feel like any of that so once again today you didn't let someone finish their sentence, a habit of yours as it seems.

"Apologies accepted, asshole." you said fiercely and left him standing there with his stupid boxes in a state of shock. You got into the elevator and decided not to pay anyone any more of your thoughts tonight. You smiled at wooden popsicle stick and quickly forgot about the man downstairs.

Jinyoung was still shocked but also amused by your witty comeback. He knew he reacted upon his emotions when he was rude to you. He was just angry that he had to move the second time in the last two months. Sasaengs somehow found out about his last apartment in which he lived for only two weeks and just started feeling at home. Few days ago they found him, and he was harassed once again. Tired and angry he acted without thinking when you bumped into him and his belongings scattered. He wanted to apologize right away but you growled back at him, and he got irritated, so he wanted to lecture you or at least tell you not to interrupt other people when they are speaking, but you did just that and in very smart matter at that as well. Now Jinyoung was riding an elevator trying to pinpoint your face, he was sure he had seen you somewhere already. He entered his flat and sighed as he realized he had to unpack once again. He decided it could wait till morning.

You were woken up by both pounding and drilling in the wall behind your head. With long groan you pulled a pillow over your head but it didn't help much. You checked the time on your phone. It was seven thirty in the morning and you couldn't fall asleep till three - courtesy of your jet lag. You tried to ignore it hoping that you were sleepy and tired enough to fall asleep, unfortunately to no avail.

"Who the hell does the renovation on Saturday morning?" you asked your own walls with furious tone. You left the bed deciding to speak with the person next door. You didn't even bother to change from your PJ or brush your teeth, or hair, or even to throw something over yourself. You left your apartment in your bunny pyjama set, a gift from your best friend. Soon you were pounding angrily at the door. It took quite some time before the drilling inside stopped and someone opened the door. The man who opened seized you up and down with his eyes and coughed in his fist diverting his gaze somewhere else.

"Can I help you?" he asked his voice was a bit distressed. "I sure hope you can. It's Saturday seven in the morning." you were fuming, and he finally looked at you although he kept his eyes stuck to your face. "Ah... thank you for informing me. Are you working as personal calendar and clock for all of your neighbours or am I on some special treatment?" he asked sarcastically and smirked which made you: first bewildered and second even more mad if that's possible. "Let me rephrase that for you: it's Saturday, early morning and you are drilling in a wall." "Well, technically it was Mr Ahn who was drilling, I was enjoying myself with a book." He clearly enjoyed teasing you, there was this gleam in his eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit too early for a renovation?" your voice was seething with venom although you tried to keep your cool. "Quite contrary. I checked with the building manager, and I am only supposed to keep quiet between ten p.m and seven a.m. as you can see I even waited thirty minutes." He smiled at you and in that second you hated him, his stupid brown hair, strangely symmetrical face, weirdly tight cardigan and the fact that you couldn't do much since he was in the right. You just turned on your heels ready to storm off back to your flat when he spoke again. "Ah, and might I add I just love your fashion sense." he raised one brow and his eyes once again travelled through your body. "Excuse me?"

"Apologies accepted." Your face went from frowned and angry to shocked in a second, and he laughed at your reaction before closing the doors and leaving you cursing yourself, your luck and your best friend who thought it would be cute to buy you pyjama set which contained of hoodie with ears and a bunny tail and some shorts.

You entered your apartment, deep red setted on your face from both anger and embarrassment. As soon as you closed the doors the drilling continued. You cursed under the breath and went to shower. You stood long under the stream letting the water wash away both dirt and emotions. Once you were clean and ready for the day you’ve decided to ditch your flat for now since it was too loud for you anyway. This time you went for less sporty look but still all black. It was a turtleneck, slacks, martens and a beret. Chic and comfortable. You did  your makeup and hair and went out for breakfast. The car was already waiting for you when you got downstairs. You pulled a black mask over your face and greeted the driver who didn't talk much and so you didn't have to worry about the small talk. You scrolled through your phone checking the messages you got from your manager — there was about twenty of them and somehow each was written with different emotion: rage, irritation, sadness, hopelessness and so on. You sighed knowing that you should probably apologize for the troubles you caused him. Then again what were you supposed to do, not react when half of this country is calling you names? You signed back in your Twitter only to be greeted by thousands of notifications. Most of which were trolls and haters commenting on your tweets with occasional death threats in your DMs. You tried your very best not to read each and every comment knowing that even though you were strong it still affected you. You were; however, positively surprised when you found some supporting voices. There was your best friend (obviously) who fiercely defended you and called out everyone on their bull, he even threatened legal action and you smiled brightly at his tweets, but there were also few Korean celebrities who took your side and defended you as well. Most importantly there were few normal people, fans perhaps, who applauded you and thanked for speaking out. You smiled when you saw user "Y/NUnnieFandomPresidentSeoyun" somewhere in your notifications. Somehow traffic was still bad even on weekend and it took you forty minutes to get to the café you had in mind. Once you got there however you didn't regret time spend on travel. It was café in quiet part of town, it wasn't very popular since it wasn't in Gangnam but because of that it was one of your favourites. No paparazzi, no dispatch, no other celebrities.

The place itself wasn't very big but it had huge windows and was located in front of the park so you could easily grab a coffee and go for a walk or just stay inside and watch people and kids spending their time at the park. The interior wasn't anything special either, it wasn't one of those Instagram worthy cafés. It had simple modern style. You came in and ordered coffee and some toasts and sat in front of the window. There were few people inside so you sat without your mask freely and wondered if your friend was already sleeping. It was around nine here so in Los Angeles it was probably midnight. You texted him asking if he's sleeping, and he just responded by facetiming you right away. His black hair was still wet from shower, and he wasn't wearing any shirt.

"Yah! Y/N-ah!" he scolded you immediately. "How dare you not text or call your best friend for over a day. Do you know how worried I was?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"It's not like you contacted me either. And put some clothes on Tuan."

"Never. I know you secretly love watching my chest."

"Gross. Anyway.. I haven't called because I was tired yesterday, you know jet lag and all of that, so don't get mad at me."

"How are you now?" His playfulness was replaced by concern and it was clear he wasn't really asking about the quality of your sleep which was in fact terrible thanks to your lovely neighbour.

"I'm fine." He gave you the look. "Really. Honestly I didn't expect anything better from what I got, so I'm fine Mark."

"I shouldn't have let you go. You know what? Those people don't deserve you. Come back to the USA and let's live together again I'll even cook. Or I can come to you I'll fight them and keep you company. I'm can easily stream from there.." You giggled at him and he grinned. "You know I'm serious though you can come back I already miss you anyway. God, I should have married you maybe you wouldn't leave me Y/N-ah..." he was whiny again and you laughed. It was an inside joke between you. Both yours and his parents would always tell you to just marry already but neither of you felt anything romantic towards the other one. You'd known each other since you were two and both of you had treated each other like siblings ever since.

"You should have and now it's too late. I'll find myself new victim and feast on their heart like a true gumiho I am." you said in theatrical manner while munching on your toast.

"Honestly who the fuck writes those articles?"

"I don't know but I'm pretty sure... Oh my god. You've got to be kidding me." you said and tried to lower your face down so that the person passing in front of the window you've been sitting by couldn't see you.

"What? What? Is that paparazzi? Your ex? Is that paparazzi rented by your ex?" You frowned at your friend.

"What? No? It's my asshole neighbour." "Never heard of him. Why are we hiding anyway? You can just tell him to back off. Last time I checked you were great at that." He showed you two thumbs up and smiled broadly. "I'm hiding because I'm embarrassed and I don't want to talk to him." "Why?" he laughed. "What did you do?" "I didn't do anything it was that stupid PJ you got me..." you whispered at him while trying to make yourself as small as possible. "Oh my god. One day in Korea and you already got yourself a one-night stand. This is not how I raised you. What would your mother say?" he teased you and giggled. "For the love of... it's not like that." you said angrily a bit too loud perhaps since the men in question who was just ordering by the counter turned around and looked you dead in the eyes. His neutral expression changing to surprised before it transformed to smirk. You cursed yourself and Mark and bowed your head slightly and awkwardly before you turned around to face your now laughing friend.

"You should see your face."

"Shut up. I hate you."

"You love me."

"What a surprise." Third voice spoke up by your side and you cringed a little before you put on your cold mask on.

"A surprise indeed." You said, your neighbour moved his eyes from your face to the screen of your phone carefully placed against the glass. Mark was still there, still half naked and smirking at you.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes."

"No." you and Mark said at the same time and you send him death glare regretting that you couldn't kick him right now. "I was about to go to sleep anyway. Love you."

He disappeared without waiting for your response. You let out soft sigh and reach out for phone.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The man was already sitting next to you. He was smiling at you and perhaps any other person would say it was a warm type of smile but you felt like he was mocking you. Constantly. You straightened up in your seat and eyed him closely. He was wearing the same tight cardigan, it was accentuating his broad frame and muscles hidden underneath soft, brown cashmere and simple but well fitted blue jeans. You had to admit he was handsome and had somehow angelic face which only made you cringe once you compared it to his personality or at least to what he showed you already. "I don't think that's a good idea." You said after a pause, his expression didn't change for a second, and he sipped on coffee that blushing waitress brought a few seconds ago. "How so?" His voice was sweet and melodic, it irritated you even more. "I am a celebrity, there might be an article about me having coffee with you tomorrow." You kept your tone intentionally bored as you played with the spoon. He laughed and you changed your mind his speaking voice couldn't be called melodic when his laughter sounded so beautifully.

"That's funny. I'm celebrity as well I think I'll survive." It wasn't surprising at all, he was too good-looking to not be an idol, a model or an actor perhaps. You held back another sigh. You could already see the headlines "Y/N attacks again will this man keep up with her appetite" or perhaps "One day in Korea, and she already dates — check out Y/N and her new boy toy". "Yeah I doubt it." you said but quickly added. "Weren't you supposed to renovate your apartment anyway?" "I left it to Mr Ahn it got too loud for me to read in peace."

"I can imagine." Sarcasm was basically dripping from your tongue which only seemed to amuse him even more. His eyes were now twinkling and you thought that he must be a devil in disguise. "I must say it's very lucky that I met you here. What are the odds, right?" "Ah I wouldn't call it lucky, that's for sure." You were currently planning how to escape from this conversation. "So how about we get to know each other a bit better?" He proposed with a warm smile. "I don't think so. I don't even know you." "Oh. That's harsh you do know me. I'm your neighbour and this is our third meeting." He placed a hand over his heart and frowned in pain and you wondered how can one still look handsome while frowning before he continued. "Besides I can fix that. I'm Park Jinyoung nice to meet you. See now we know each other." You fought and urge to roll your eyes and you summoned the most polite looking smile you had in your arsenal. Your phone rang before you could say anything and you've never been more happy to see your manager's face appearing on your screen.

"I'm sorry I have to take it." you said politely, and he just nodded. "Oh I wasn't expecting you to pick up." "Ah manager-nim don't be like that I haven't been picking up only for one day." "Why are you so polite are you with someone?" "Yes." You glared at Jinyoung, he was watching you with a smile with coffee in his hand. "Ok, I can call later." "No!" you almost screamed and cleared your throat trying to remain composure. "No, it's fine." "O-ok. Do you have time today? We should meet and talk I just got something that may interest you. It's really nice drama. I know you said you don't want to play in any of those romantic stories but hear me out this one is..." you'd roll your eyes if not for your neighbour's curious eyes. "Of course when and where will we meet?" You decided to cut off his rumbling. "Really? Before departure, you said you won't play in any stupid drama again." "Ah, I see. I did say that. We should meet today, text me the address then." Hanging up on him, you hoped he got the brains to follow up with text. He thankfully did and your phone barked. Jinyoung laughed again and you gave him confused look. "Did your phone just bark at you?" You blushed against yourself. Was it so weird to have a dog's bark as your message sound? "Ah... yes. I like dogs." You cringed on yourself. Somehow today in front of this man you were constantly losing your cool. He either irritated you or made you flustered enough to forget any eloquent comebacks or eloquence at all. "Anyway it was nice meeting you Jinyoung-ssi but I have to meet up with my manager."

"Oh you're leaving without even properly introducing yourself?" He cocked a brow on you and smirked. You stood up and looked at him coldly. "I'm sorry I don't feel the need." You were about to leave before he spoke again. "Ah… running already... startled... like a true bunny. Come to think of it... it does have a nice ring into it, doesn't it? Bunny. It suits you and you even have a costume already." His voice was so extremely mocking that you felt the irritation buzzing in you like electricity. Not to mention he spoke so loudly the waitress that was blushing at him before now listened carefully. You groaned internally. What if she writes about it somewhere. Media won't let you live especially that he is your neighbour they'd say he is already in love with you. And "bunny" was such a couple pet name. You were in the midst of your internal crisis before he decided to speak again.

"Have nice day bun.." You reacted before you thought, your hand slapped against his mouth before he could say anything more. His eyes got bigger, he was clearly shocked that you were so close to him, that you touched him and that you didn't really care about your language. You on the other had were fuming. You've met your fair share of fuckboys, assholes and idiots but not one of them that had similar status to yours acted with such insolence in public where other people could see you. Well, almost none, perhaps your ex was the only one. You kept your voice quiet, loud enough only for him to hear.

"Shut up. And watch your tongue before I pull it out because the universe be my witness I will and I'll do it with pleasure. My name is not kitten, bunny or any other pet name your buffoon head comes up with. It's Y/N. My name is bloody Y/N." You hissed out and his hand reach out to yours. It was hot from coffee and soft even though his grasp was firm. He took your hand of his mouth and smiled.

"Nice to meet you."

You took a step back and send him the look that must have looked like you were trying to shoot daggers at him.

"I'm sure it is. Now if you excuse me. I don't want to be late."

You rushed to counter to pay only to find out it was already taken care of by Jinyoung. You furrowed your brows and wanted to give him his money back instantly but your phone buzzed and it was your cue to leave. The driver was here.

To Mark 🐰 💙 : One day Tuan... you'll pay for this betrayal

From Mark 🐰 💙 : ILY 2 good night. P.S. He seemed hot 👀

You rolled your eyes how hot was he didn't matter if his sole personality drove you crazy only after three brief meetings. You sighed. This was not how you wanted to spend this day: enraged twice and on your way to see your manager.

Keep reading

[duchessofferia]

Isn’t she just delightful?

Catherine of Aragon has one of the more fascinating media legacies of anyone in the Tudor period, not in terms of how her image has fluctuated over the years, but because of how notably it hasn’t. Other hardcore Catholics of the Henrician court are inevitably vilified in stories from Protestant perspectives - Thomas More, Cardinal Wolsey, Jane Seymour and above all else Mary I, to name a few. “Protestant perspectives” doesn’t just refer to reformation texts, it includes books from the perspective of Protestant figures; usually Anne Boleyn or Elizabeth I, and more recently Thomas Cromwell with Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall books. Despite her unwavering faith in both the Catholic Church and her own position, Catherine’s reputation has, up until the past twenty years or so, remained close to stellar; her marriage into the English monarchy at a young age did well to divorce her from her parent’s religious persecutions, and her death some fifteen years or so before her daughter took the throne kept her from being tarnished by association to Mary’s resurrection of medieval heresy laws.

As a Tudor queen, Catherine has largely gone down in history for her irreproachable conduct, even after that history began to tilt towards the side of a religion she opposed - she is known for her charity, her piety, and her belief in her husband’s good nature no matter how vile his behavior grew to be, even at the expense of her own self image. According to Chapuys (who in this case there is no reason to disbelieve) she went to her grave questioning wether Henry’s actions after their divorce was her fault, wondering wether, if she had given him what he wanted, he may not have felt the need to break from Rome, mistreat their daughter and execute two men - one a long term friend and one his own grandmother’s religious advisor. Catherine is a noble figure, she is a tragic figure, she is most of all a dignified figure, and in Tudor media she is always given at least a sympathetic nod if not a complex or three dimensional portrayal. 

The key phrase there, though, is as a Tudor queen. Whatever else she was, Catherine was decidedly not a modern woman, just like all of her female peers living five hundred years ago were decidedly not modern women; her unflinching religious beliefs, her many attempts at producing a male heir and her devotion to her marriage are admirable traits of a female noble of the sixteenth century, less so of a twenty first century wife or businesswoman. She was a product of her time, and modernized or semi modernized Tudor media’s attempts to portray her - specifically the brand of modern Tudor media that sets out to depict Anne and Henry’s relationship as one of Sexy High Romance - always end up turning Catherine into a misogynistic caricature of herself, historical legacy be damned. The blog anneboleynnovels describes it best:

“Catherine’s greatest hurdle has been not Protestant novels, but modernized ones. These are the one subgenre in which her character at best is severely degraded and at worst is completely unrecognizable. It’s not surprising that it should be like this — finding modern corollaries to Anne and Henry, whether in an office, a Hollywood mansion, or a high school, is doable. As for most of the people who surrounded them, while some some people are harder to wrench into modern poses than others, it’s relatively easy to cut and alter those characters to make them work better in a modern setting. Catherine, however, is completely lost here. She needs to exist, or else the central conflict disappears — but she simply doesn’t have a real modern equivalent, at least not in the kinds of societies that modernizers write about; her determination that God had put her in her position and that she had to safeguard her daughter’s legitimacy, and thus her inheritance, is impossible to convey fully, especially since Henry’s historical behavior — taking a presumed inheritance from Mary, forcibly separating the two women, and confining them in residences of his choosing — can’t be precisely replicated in a modern novel without making him at best a creep and at worst a criminal. In neither case would that Henry be an appealing love object for a modern Anne, so his behavior is inevitably made more standard — he’s simply a wealthy man divorcing his wife of twenty years, and instead of taking her settlement and moving on, his wife just refuses to let go.”

As the post on Catherine’s fictionalized history points out, attempts to judge her through a modern lens, particularly in stories that center around that grand, not-at-all-murderous love affair of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn inevitably fail to produce a balanced assesment. Susan Bordo’s highly modernized study the Creation of Anne Boleyn treats her like a footnote at best and a self righteous fool at worst, while the Catherine of Suzannah Dunn’s The Queen of Subtleties is disgustingly nicknamed “Fat Cath” (stupid cow, how could she let herself go like that after six pregnancies?) and features its leading lady, another ahead-of-her-time portrayal of Anne Boleyn, going out of her way to condescendingly paint Catherine to the reader as vengeful and delusional. Anne of Hollywood and Anne and Henry present the worst portrayals, one a hideous, deliberately unsympathetic drug addict and the other a teenage psychotic forced on Henry by his father, leading her poor, brow beaten boyfriend by the hand.

That’s not to say it would be impossible to write a well rounded modern Catherine of Aragon, but most modernized Tudor novels simply don’t care to try and make her well rounded; she exists solely to be the convenient road block to Anne and a whitewashed Henry’s happiness, a flat example of the Hysterical Woman trope rather than a Queen, a mother, or a politician. It isn’t Anne Boleyn’s fault that this happens (she can’t exactly object) but this version of Catherine never fails to rear its ugly head in Tudor media that aims to portray Anne, literally or figuratively, as a “woman of the future.” Since that reading of Anne has gained momentum over the years, this Catherine inevitably does so too.

What makes the Spanish Princess so unbearable is how blatantly Emma Frost is trying, and egregiously failing, to flip the script on this. Whatever her personal dislike of Anne Boleyn, she is very obviously trying to take this fictitious version of Anne Boleyn that has sprung up over the past few decades - that of the rebellious, sexy, pseudo feminist Modern Woman™ - and apply it to Catherine of Aragon, who was neither rebellious, a feminist or, after six pregnancies, five infant deaths and a battle with heart cancer, all that sexy. The intimacy and very real affection she and Henry shared in the early years of their marriage is stilted and unemotional, replaced by an absurd number of sex scenes and a very out of place “warrior kween” nickname. It isn’t enough for Catherine to organize a massive military campaign and give a speech to an assembly of soldiers while heavily pregnant, real life accomplishments of hers which have gone largely unacknowledged - no, the Catherine of the Spanish Princess needs to literally fight in battle, pregnant belly armor and all, subtly implying that her many miscarriages were the result of her own behavior, never mind the fact that Henry’s later wives had miscarriages as well. The deeply devoted friends Catherine actually had, one of whom served her for decades and risked royal punishment to be with her on her deathbed, are either erased entirely or put into invented conflicts with her. Her relationship with the only one of her children that survived infancy is perverted into a cold, uncaring motherhood, marked by disappointment and a refusal to even hold her daughter, let alone personally teach her Latin, commission scholars to write books for her, and request those same scholars take charge of her education.

In place of all these details, the things that make the historically minded audience love Catherine in the first place, several sordid aspects of Anne Boleyn’s fictional representations are assigned to Frost’s Catherine of The Upside Down: the ~unnatural~ blowjobs and poorly designed French hoods, the general air of cattiness, the excessive nudity, the hatred of her daughter, the inability to sexually please her husband, and the weird sense of anger at all the women in her life all stand out as hallmarks of Anne Boleyn’s less flattering portrayals, but so too do the clear attempts to pander to a feminist audience and sell itself as new age and progressive.

The fouler examples of Catherine as a modern woman aren’t yet the prevalent perception of her; a gaggle of misguided twenty first century books isn’t enough to erase the near spotless reputation she’s maintained for half a millennium. But the Spanish Princess fails to depict a more positive modernization of Catherine because it’s lazy in the attempt - it sees the habit of trying to turn sixteenth century queens into anything but sixteenth century queens and tries to replicate it by taking a handful of theatrical trends and having their protagonist perform them. Those trends have been apart of Anne Boleyn’s portrayal in the media for so long it wouldn’t be that strange to see her acting that way on screen, no matter how historically inaccurate they may be, but to assign them to someone with such a vastly different public history as Catherine is just jarring. She wasn’t like that, nobody thinks she was like that, Tudor media has always known her as being not like that, and the result is something that’s confusing at best and outright offensive at worst. It’s not fun to watch, but it’s interesting to examine, broader context in mind.

(Also credit to @queenmarytudor for that image of Meg and Mary, and seriously, check out anneboleynnovels. They’re great.)

[nnnnoooooooooooo]

My Ballot for They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They?’s 25 Favourite Films Poll

The following is my ballot for They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They?’s poll for their readers’ 25 favourite films of all-time. It contains a dozen or so favourites, several compromises, and a handful of personally foundational texts.

Seven Chances (1925, Buster Keaton): It ain’t easy to only choose one Keaton. This is one of Keaton’s films with a racist blackface character, which gave me some reservations. Still, this is a solid contender as his funniest picture, and, more importantly, this is Buster as I love him the most. Keaton’s characters were always the most cerebral and lost, keen observers with no understanding. An inability to communicate one’s emotions drives the need to convert it into a physical experience; Keaton inevitably becomes the object that cannot be stopped. His full forced desperation and athleticism, he is a master of locomotion. Featuring the finalization of the chase gag, along with a generous serving of his brand of surreal.

City Lights (1931, Charles Chaplin): Comedically and emotionally devastating.

Trouble in Paradise (1932, Ernst Lubitsch): Lubtisch’s portrayal of Continental aristocracy on the cusp. Containing love, melancholy, desire, rivalry, loyalty, betrayal, criminals, and thieves-- all saved by his grace alone, achieving a rare bliss of comedy and romance. Normally, I’d say that, in a temporal world, perfection exists only as a process, but then how would I explain this?

La grande illusion (1937, Jean Renoir): In the best of Renoir’s films, I find a type of harmony I find lacking in the rest of the world.

La règle du jeu (1939, Jean Renoir): In making this list, I never doubted either of these Renoir films having a place. Now, trying to write about my list, I find myself becoming frustrated at not finding the words to explain why I chose them. I’ve never been a great communicator, and I doubt that’s Renoir’s fault. I think it’s best for me to move on before I start misplacing my frustrations with my inability to write onto the film itself.

How Green Was My Valley? (1941, John Ford): Possibly the greatest movie ever made under Hollywood’s Studio System, and perhaps the closest we’ll ever get to seeing what Hedy Lamarr might have seen in John Loder. More than any other actor, Sara Allgood carries this film, in her role as the matriarch of the Morgan household. This is chock full of great character actors and moments as you’d expect from Ford. It’s the magic of childhood, the safety of the womb, the cyclical nature of a town where nothing ever seems to change, and the devastation of entropy. I lost track of how many times I cried.

To Be or Not to Be (1942, Ernst Lubitsch): This is my choice for a comedy from the 1940s, despite stiff competition from Hellzapoppin’, and the 11 movies Preston Sturges released over the decade. I had the privilege of seeing this at my local Cinemateque with an introduction by Kevin McDonald. I was late, and the audience had already begun to talk back. He rolled, and we were soon laughing before the “projectionist” could hit ‘play’ on the Blu-Ray. My friend came later. It was a packed house, so we weren’t able to sit together. I enjoyed hearing the variances in people’s response*, and the timing of their laughter. Trying to pinpoint my friend’s laughter from the crowd, I couldn’t help but hear our host’s generous laughter throughout the film. What a joy it was for all of us to experience this film together. I guess I haven’t had a chance to share those other movies the way that I was with this one. *A nice change of pace, as this usually makes me self-conscious

Shadow of a Doubt (1943, Alfred Hitchcock): I find Hitchcock’s women’s pictures to be some of his richest texts. Besides which, any film asking me to sympathize with Theresa Wright already has a lot going for it. Alongside The Wrong Man as Hitchcock’s most tragic film.

Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean): My favourite romance, whatever that says about me. A passionate extramarital affair between Laura Jesson (Celia Johnson) and Dr. Alec Harvey (Trevor Howard), told in flashback. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this placed among noirs, but I think this could be an example of a women’s film noir. There’s a thick sense of transgression and fatalistic mise-en-scene, along with an inability to escape, which ends the film on an unconvincing return to safety.     After the two lovers part for the final time, Johnson returns home. Her husband, Stanley Holloway, asks for nothing, and expresses gratitude for her return. However, for all of that loveliness, Johnson has learned that the world is far more fragile than she ever dreamt. The husband is portrayed as a bit childlike, and, coupled with the affably stiff upper-lipped nature of their marriage, Johnson is unable to confess what’s occurred, which only preserves her turmoil. Unable to consummate, sustain, or forsake her romance with Howard, she may find some refuge with her husband, but salvation eludes her.

Out of the Past (1947, Jacques Tourneur): RKO Pictures, film noir, Jacques Tourneur, and Robert Mitchum– These are a few of my favourite things. As a prude, I don’t care to admit that I love cigarette smoke in B&W pictures as much as I do, and it’s deployed here to its zenith, courtesy of Nicholas Musuraca’s cinematography. Daniel Mainwaring’s script, along with Tourneur and Mitchum, use underplay in order to create a heightened effect. Mitchum’s somnambulism grants his portrayal of Jeff Bailey an omniscient cool, which extends to his character’s bisexuality. There’s such delight in hearing Mitchum, one of the best voices in movies, deliver the film’s lyrical dialogue in his disaffected baritone.

The Big Heat (1953, Fritz Lang): Perhaps Lang’s most cynical film? The culmination of all his conspiracies. The law vs. criminals, no longer as separate from one another, but as sides of the same coin: the establishment. Sergeant Bannion (Glenn Ford) engages in total war against Lagana’s (Alexander Scourby) crime syndicate. Those caught in between end up as collateral damage, pawns in their game. Each dismantles the family unit, Lagana disposes of Bannion’s wife (Jocelyn Brando), and Bannion displaces his child, so that both sides can carry on unfettered. The happy ending finds Bannion happily back at work in the homicide department, where they’re informed of a grisly murder. Oh boy, here we go again! Gloria Grahame, a sister under the mink, reigns as my favourite actress in all of film noir.

The Sun Shines Bright (1953, John Ford): It’s not easy to film a miracle, a feat for which I’d pair this with Carl Th. Dreyer’s penultimate film, Ordet. Speaking of Dreyer, if you have 15 minutes to spare, here’s a great video of Jonathan Rosenbaum discussing this movie alongside Dreyer’s final film, Gertrud. The responsibilities and limitations of society. Communities are built through sacrifice, as we give of ourselves, which accounts for the film’s sometimes funereal tone. One’s resting spot as the place to make a stand, but what good is taking a stand if it doesn’t lead anywhere? Our redemption lies not in preserving ourselves, but in guiding the world to a place that no longer needs us. Thus, not a dying world to save, but an understanding that we must pass in order to bring about renewal. Funerals become parades, and parades become funerals, as we walk the strait and narrow path between tradition and progress. Don’t take a stand while the world marches on, but lead us into thy rest.

The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953, Roy Rowland): This is a musical written and designed by Dr. Seuss, which is to say that I think you oughta see it. Still, it’s hard to justify why I chose this over The Band Wagon. I’d probably better enjoy watching The Band Wagon, which I’d wager is Hollywood’s greatest musical, but there’s something about The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T that gets under my skin. I saw it on television when I was very young. Old enough to remember seeing it, but too young to remember more than three details: twins joined at the beard, the nightmare-inducing elevator operator, and a large piano requiring an exponential amount of fingers. This forgotten foundation, along with its Seussian imagery, grants the film a dreamlike feeling. Just as every good boy deserves fudge, every Hans Conried deserves a role like the one he has here, playing the titular Dr. T.

The Night of the Hunter (1955, Charles Laughton): A kid’s film featuring the personification of evil, not in Mitchum’s portrayal of the preacher Harry Powell, but in Evelyn Varden’s Icey Spoon. This movie is so full of indelible images that I sometimes forget LOVE/HATE tattooed on Powell’s knuckles. There’s a dreadful unease from the inability to fully save or preserve Ben & Pearl within a society whose systems turn on them so easily. Their safety is drawn and quartered at every turn, and so Ben & Pearl flee society, finding a guardian out yonder. Still, there’s a limitation to their newfound guardian’s protection. Their angel and their demon sing in harmony; evil becomes instructive to the children’s growth. It’s a hard world for little things, but there is hope. Mrs. Cooper (Lillian Gish) manages to find her redemption in protecting these children while she can. Perhaps we need them as much as they need us. This was Charles Laughton’s only film as a director, as well as the final of James Agee’s two films as a screenwriter. It isn’t right.

Sweet Smell of Success (1957, Alexander Mackendrick): This is my favourite film noir, possibly the nastiest as well. Of course, I cackle throughout the entire picture. Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis at their bests; the tension between a malevolent god and his jester/would-be pretender played as flirtation, conducting assassinations as though they were composing poetry. Shot on location in New York by James Wong Howe, giving us a view of Babel from the gutters up. Also, I’m just a big ol’ softy for Emile Meyer, who plays Lt. Kello.

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957, Frank Tashlin): As I see it, this is the best sex comedy of the ‘50s and ‘60s. Tashlin previously worked at Termite Terrace, making Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies, and did a brief stop making Screen Gem cartoons over at Columbia in the middle. After having brought feature film techniques to his cartoons, he brought cartoon imagery into his live-action films. This is a vehicle for Jayne Mansfield, who may have been the most cartoonish of the era’s blonde bombshells, and so it is a happy marriage indeed.

Playtime (1967, Jacques Tati): This is cinema. Ah! Tati, Ah!     Modernity

Out 1: noli me tangere (1971, Jacques Rivette & Suzanne Schiffman): Rivette’s movies feel alive in a way that I haven’t found anywhere else. The films I’ve seen are about conspiracy, games, and the development of theatre troupes: things that exist only in our minds, and are dependant on our cooperation with others. Things get so twisted that you wonder how they’ll ever untie it all, only for the shared illusions to be revealed as a complex series of false knots. I broke my rule with this film, in choosing a film that I’ve only seen once. I didn’t make the time to revisit this or Céline et Julie vont en bateau, my other favourite Rivette film, so I went with the larger labyrinth to lose myself in.

F for Fake (1973, Orson Welles): This is Orson Welles’s most playful film. I love Welles, the personality, almost as much as I love Welles, the director, so I chose a movie that features both.

Mikey and Nicky (1976, Elaine May): Perhaps the most tense and dark comedy I’ve ever seen. May reaches her highest levels of drama here, and does so without any cost to her usual standards for humour.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946, Frank Capra): I wasn’t sure about including this, given that it’s not even my favourite James Stewart Christmas movie, but what can I do? It’s a Wonderful Life is an institution in my family, we’ve watched this every Christmas Eve since I was grade 6. There was a year or two in the early ‘10s where we might have missed it, but, otherwise, we’ve been devout. This is also one of four sources that laid the foundation for my love of movies, and, in particular, older movies. I hope to continue to watch this every year. It just wouldn’t be Christmas.     Growing up, my brothers and I used to be allowed to open one gift the night of Christmas Eve, which evolved into my brothers and I exchanging our gifts for each other. The first year my brother’s and I exchanged gifts, we happened upon CBC playing It’s a Wonderful Life in a 3-hour timeslot. Filling in the gaps of my memory with ego, I’d say that I instigated our watching it. I was always the biggest sucker for holiday specials, as well as being the most drawn to B&W. It was an instant hit with all of us, and so two traditions were born that night. For those curious as to what year this took place, I gave my oldest brother a 3 Doors Down CD. My older brother got me the Beast Wars transmetal Terrosaur figure. And. It. Freakin’. Ruled.     CBC continued to air It’s a Wonderful Life every Christmas Eve, and we continued to tune in. My brothers and I continued to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve for about another decade, but now my family has a better Christmas Eve tradition to pair with our holiday movie: Chinese food, and, less dogmatically, vegetable samosas. Leftovers become brunch. We’ve watched the movie, I think, twenty times now, which includes one viewing of the unfortunate colourized version, and once in theatres. It’s a great movie to come back to each year. There are lots of little moments, lines, and details to zero in on, and each year I get to internally test and brag to myself about naming and recognizing the various character actors and bit players that pop up.     Still, I sometimes find myself resisting its charms. A couple of years ago, my view of Frank Capra changed. I no longer saw him as the director I had previously thought him to be*. I wondered whether this movie stood on its own merits, or if I was holding onto it for sentimental reasons. I have since settled on this film being a genuine classic.      Another source of resistance is that I’ve never watched this on its own, there’s a lack of an individual foundation to my relationship with the film. I’m so accustomed to viewing films on my own, I think there’s a relief in a taking a private experience, and having it succeed in a public forum. The two support each other, which is part of why a couple of films ended up on this list. However, when it’s a film I’ve only seen in the company of others, I become suspicious of my experience. I believe in the power of cinema when it’s to my benefit, only to doubt it when I fear that it has the power betray me. I guess that I lack faith. *The director I once thought Frank Capra was, I now find Leo McCarey to be.

Doctor Who: The Lost in Time Collection (1963-69, various): This was a last minute decision that ended on a mistake. I ought to have chosen Daleks: The Early Years instead, which has the proper framing of a retrospective documentary. Daleks: The Early Years is a VHS release hosted by Peter Davison, featuring interviews with key people from ‘60s Dalek stories, cannibalizing clips from Dalekmania (another documentary on Daleks in the ‘60s), and orphan episodes and snippets from otherwise lost ‘60s Dalek serials. It’s also one of the VHS tapes that I grew up with, and my introduction to the fact that, at the time, over 100 episodes of ‘60s Doctor Who were missing and presumed lost. This was my introduction to the concept of lost media. Since then, a further 12 episodes have been found, and the number of missing episodes has dropped to 97.      Instead, I chose The Lost in Time Collection, which is a 3-disc collection of orphan episodes and surviving clips from otherwise missing ‘60s serials, not actually a feature in itself. It’s a really nice sampling of the Doctor Who’s best era, and the episodes and clips are sometimes more interesting without the rest of their serial for context. While I didn’t get this collection until I was an adult, I had managed to see most or all of its contents growing up, mostly on various VHS compilations, as well as some clips online. As the deadline for submissions approached, I chose the one I enjoy more, rather than the one that first changed me.     I suspect that Doctor Who was the first work of science-fiction that I got into, as it predates me in our household. My brothers and my getting into Transformers predates my memory, but it does not predate my being around. Doctor Who also served as my first exposure to B&W viewing. I was really into science-fiction growing up, and the genre was really my first interest in older films. The interest didn’t really bridge its way from my youth into my present. Heck, I wasn’t even particularly a movie person until into my twenties. In early adulthood, after fading for a bit, my fondness for science-fiction was more directed towards video games and books. So while it didn’t lead into my love of film and B&W, it laid a lot of the groundwork for what I’d eventually come to love.     My oldest brother remembers staying up late with our parents to watch Doctor Who, and my older brother has memories of trying to stay up with them, but it was no longer airing on any of the stations we had by the time I was kicking. Loved, but unseen, it developed a sort of mythic reputation in my young mind. Over the years, we managed to see a bunch of serials on VHS through our local library system, and we eventually got 5 VHS releases of our own before the decade ended. We got a book, The Doctor Who Yearbook, which had listings and synopsises of every serial ever made. The classic Doctor Who series lasted 26 seasons, consisting of 153 serials, and just shy of 700 episodes. No matter how many episodes of Doctor Who I managed to see when I was growing up, it was only ever the tip of the iceberg.     My younger self liked daydreaming about all of the adventures, planets, aliens, robots, and monsters, but that would begin to dissipate with age. While I loved Star Wars for the many of the same reasons as I did Doctor Who, the advent of more Star Wars wasn’t all that fulfilling, with Episode I: Racer for the N64 PC as a noted exception. More than the fact that I was caught up in the cultural backlash against George Lucas, the lack of a well defined characters and society in the original trilogy was a virtue. The toys and books really capitalized on this. I was the kid that wanted to know every weirdo and background character’s life story. I was such a mark.     The more movies they made that added to the lore, the smaller their galaxy seemed to be, in opposition to an expanded universe. Each piece promising to add to the larger picture only seemed to reveal a smaller whole. More movies telling the same stories with different versions of the same characters. A galaxy that once seemed so vast now revealed to be comprised of maybe two dozen people, many of which are related or connected to each other in some tired and unnecessary way.     Eventually, I got really into Jonathan Rosenbaum, and began to project my ego all over his preferences, to which Star Wars became a victim. I gave up on the series after sitting through a showing of Episode VII. Fires subside, and, these days, I’m mostly indifferent towards the series. Undergraduates can be a bit much, y’know?     While the new Doctor Who series also fell out of favour with me, it was easier for me to divorce it from the original series. Having seen the series only in disparate pieces, rather than a linear narrative may have helped. I have no illusions that the original series is anything more than a silly kid’s show that mostly takes place in corridors, which is a fine thing to be. It’s enough to be a delight. The deceit of nostalgia is that I can return to these works I once loved with the same feelings and wonder that I had as a child.     While I remain fond of Doctor Who, the whole of a serial is often less than the sum of its parts. After all, being a serial, half of the adventure is meant to take place in your head during the week between episodes. It’s the opposite of binge-watch material. It’s hard to commit to working your way through such a bulky series at a deliberately slow pace. Besides, even spacing the episodes out some, it’s still not going to capture my mind the way it would when I was a child. The virtue of the Lost in Time Collection is that you’re never seeing a serial as a whole, only as individual pieces.     The collection consists of 18 complete episodes from 12 serials, with clips and bits from an additional 10 serials. Only one serial has more than two episodes featured, The Daleks’ Master Plan, a 12-part epic, which has its 3 known surviving episodes on the set. Freed from the responsibilities of being part of a larger story, you get to enjoy the pleasures of each episode as its own entity. Charm exists outside of context, and what may have been stretched and strained over half a dozen episodes can easily be sustained in the single episode or two that remains. A piece of Starburst may not keep its flavour any longer than a piece of Hubba Bubba, but at least it has the decency not to overstay its welcome.     The less that remains of a serial, the more interesting it becomes. For some serials, the only surviving clips are the scenes that were cut by censors, and so you’re only seeing the juiciest bits. Protected by obscurity, just as recording in B&W protected this era of the series against its lack of budget, the childlike sense of wonder remains. Any missing serial could have been great. We lack evidence to prove otherwise. What little remains from these serials is enough to imagine what may have been, and it’s easy to give the benefit of the doubt to an old friend.      No longer just a science-fiction adventure, the series has grown into a larger and more engaging adventure in film & television preservation. Thanks to its cultural status and following, questions as to how these stories were lost, why years of episodes were junked, how they were returned, in which disparate places were episodes found, who has been hunting for them, what were their methods, to what lengths did they go, what places remain to be searched, what remains to be found, what’s trapped in the hands of private collectors, and what has been lost forever have all been thoroughly explored, though some answers continue to elude us. For those interested, Youtuber Josh Snares has an extensive series of videos that breaks down many of these questions as best as one can with what’s publicly known, and, despite being on yotube, I don’t think he’s annoying.     Doctor Who best represents my film lover’s sense of discovery, combining the joys of hearing about a film that piques my interest, trying to track a film down, discovering or rediscovering a new favourite, learning about film history, and the efforts of film preservation. Hearing about films I’d like to see can be nearly as rewarding as actually watching the films themselves. The more that I see, the more there is that I’d like to see. The harder something is to find, the more interesting it can become. Film is a physical object, so there is a battle against time for us to discover, recover, restore, and preserve works before they’re lost to time. The good news is that many efforts are being undertaken, both by professionals and by amateurs. The advent of crowdfunding has really helped to create more opportunities for completing these endeavours.     Following an Indiegogo campaign, Netflix stepped in and completed Orson Welles’s The Other Side of the Wind. Many of Marion Davies’s silent films have been restored in recent years. Thanks to the efforts of Ben Model and his team, I will soon have the pleasure of seeing eight Edward Everett Horton shorts that haven’t been in circulation since the silent era. Steve Stanchfield (Thunderbean), Jerry Beck (Cartoon Research), Tommy Stathes (Cartoons On Film), and their cohorts are doing God’s work in finding and restoring old cartoons, and giving them an audience once more. I don’t think there’s ever been a more exciting time to be so out of touch.

The Muppet Movie (1979, James Frawley): The Muppets’ movies were a staple of our household growing up, and this ranks alongside The Great Muppet Caper as the best of them. This movie has a very self-aware humour to it, exemplified by the introduction. The camera wanders through a studio backlot, following a car carrying Statler & Waldorf, who provide us with the first dialogue of the film, announcing their intent to heckle the film. Inside, the Muppets are waiting for a private screening of The Muppet Movie to begin.     It’s a disaster. A monster tears out one of the seats, the visibly deranged Crazy Harry blows up another, people are dancing in the aisles, and chickens are flying about. Objects being thrown include, but are not limited to, popcorn, Lew Zealand’s boomerang fish, and paper airplanes. A full-sized Muppet looms in the background, a giant colourful bird with enormous unblinking eyes, leaning a bit from side to side. An acknowledgement that somebody has let the animals in charge of the zoo. Still, a coziness remains amidst all of the chaos.     Kermit attempts to introduce the movie to his peers, the lights go down, and he takes his seat. The movie opens in the heavens, where the credits and a rainbow appear. It clears onto a long, long shot of a swamp, slowly zooming in to reveal a frog on a log, playing a banjo, singing Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher’s The Rainbow Connection. We’re taken away.     One of the most vital aspects of the Muppets is that they exist in our world, something that gets lost in their 90’s trend of literary adaptations. An entire world of Muppets isn’t much of a utopian vision, but the idea that these animals, monsters, and whatevers belong in society alongside ‘real’ people is. This trend was part of a larger regression throughout the years with the Muppets. What began as a self-aware humour turned into a self-depreciating humour, and, eventually, a self-loathing humour. The Muppets used to take on the world, but, in later years, they seemed unable to dream of anything more than getting back together once more, so that they could reaffirm their lack of success. Bring them back to life so they can take one more dying breath.     This Muppet movie is filled with celebrity cameos, in part a tribute to their variety show, as well as to the vaudevillian origins of most of their shtick. Here, the cameos serve the Muppets. Later, the Muppets would take a backseat, and become vehicles for others, not even allowed to star in their own movies. I wish they were given better opportunities to shine. As good as this film is, I have to admit that this film’s treatment of Miss Piggy is embarrassingly sexist. While they don’t look like Presbyterians to me, at their best, I think the Muppets have almost as much hope to offer as any religion.

Transformers: The Movie (1986, Nelson Shin): Watching this movie gives me the feeling I always hope that I’ll feel whenever I’ve bought concert tickets. I don’t watch this so much as I sing along to it. I even knew Vince DiCola’s score down to a ‘T’. With all due respect to Storefront Hitchcock, this is my personal Stop Making Sense.

Air Alert V. 4 (late 2000’s, TMT Sports): First, and most importantly, I do not recommend Air Alert nor any other paid for vertical jump program. I cannot stress that enough. They’re not designed by people who really know what they’re doing, the marketing is predatory, they’re unjustly hard on your joints, and they’re methods are not in conjunction with their promises of wild vertical gains. While I hope to stop finding that people have also done Air Alert, I immediately feel a strong kinship with those I learn have also been misled.     Air Alert is a 15-week vertical jump program that makes the dubious promises of adding 8-14 inches to yer vertical leap to everyone, regardless of their current physical condition. It promises to add explosiveness to yer hops, but its means are an exponentially increasing amount of jump exercise repetitions. This is to say that, in practice, Air Alert actually builds jumping endurance, which teaches yer muscles to conserve energy, rather than to expend it in an explosive manner. Like all jump programs, it also fails to address that much of your jumping’s height comes from a combination of your core and upper body strength, as well as technique. The version I got also came with an advertised-as-new Air Alert Advanced, a further 6 weeks of yet more intensive exercise routine to add another 3-6 inches to yer leap.     I did the 15 weeks of Air Alert, and, like everybody else I’ve known, I got 2-3 inches added to my vertical. After the recovery week suggested following completion of the program, I tried dunking at the church. You had better believe that I told my dad to bring his digital camera, ’cause this was gonna be a big deal. Being able to dunk was surely going to usher in a whole new era in my life.     Now, I had been wrong about these sorts of things before. I had become skinny, I got a couple of nice shirts, I listened to what I though was the right unpopular music, and I had stolen some jokes, but my life largely remained the same. It seemed as though my life couldn’t be redeemed by vanity and trivialities, J still wasn’t dating me, but this would be so much more. This was dunking. This was going to be different.     We went to the church, and I had the same problems as before. I could get high enough, but I couldn’t throw down. The further you extend a limb from your core, the less strength it has at its disposal. I had little upper-body strength to begin with, and, fully extended, my hand is pretty far from my body. I’d always lose the ball on the way up, or lose height putting more of my strength onto the ball. Legs can only take you so far. At my best, I’ve brought the ball to the rim, lost it, and, thanks to momentum, had the ball go off of the backboard and in. A lay-up isn’t a dunk. My knees have been crunchy ever since.     After a further month of letting my joints recover, I tried my hand at Air Alert Advanced. After the first week, which consisted of 3 days of 2000 individual jumps, some of my friends reunited to play soccer at our old high school. I was proud to see that the goals we had rescued were still on the field. However, I found that my joints were so worn down that I could only run at a steady pace in a straight line. Turning, accelerating, and decelerating were all, sadly, out of the picture. I decided not to continue onto the subsequent weeks.     I was still a fatuous pauper, single, and working at a shoe store while friends had gone on to do other things, so what did I manage to accomplish? Well, for starters, I gained some athletic ability for the first time in my life, which was neat. I gained a lot of leg strength, endurance, and quickness, as well as the previously mentioned 2-3 inches to my vert, all of which I treasured. Despite being the skinniest guy on the court, my legs were strong enough to anchor me in the key, and contend with guys up to double my weight. I went from being a guy who showed up to Dunkball, to becoming a guy that people wanted on their team.     While others got tired throughout the night, slowly losing their vertical, I managed to jump just as frequently and just as high in my last game of the night as I could during my first. As both the tallest and the lankiest guy at Dunkball, my height advantage now increased in the air. I’d let people box me out, only to jump and reach over them. I felt so free. I was, and remain, Dunkball’s most improved player. Of course, it helps to have the advantage of having started out lower than everybody else. Once, somebody brought a friend who was taller than me. It was awful.     As for dunking? Well, I could dunk small balls at the church, if I could close my hand on them. I managed to dunk a flat soccer ball on an outdoor net at a school yard once, but I never verified its height. I could dunk at the Academy chapel with the rim fully raised, though that rim sags in the front, so I’m guessing that rim was about 9’10”. Still, that won me a game of H-O-R-S-E or two. Sometimes, when warming up for Dunkball, someone would instigate a dunk competition, and I managed to develop a trademark dunk which nobody could replicate or stomach: the underhanded dunk. Norm was the only person not to loathe it, bless his heart. While I never managed to dunk on a proper 10’ net, I was able to goaltend, which has no use outside of being a dick to a friend. I was smarmy enough to do it once.     Even at Dunkball, I never became much of a dunker, except on turnovers or tip-ins, or unless I had a guard who could do the work of setting me up. I’m more opportunistic than aggressive, besides, who am I going to beat off of the dribble? On my worst nights, I was still a tall guy who could jump, so I always drew the interest of a defender. I’ve always preferred defence to offence, and my favourite offensive play is to box out their post-player, either to be in a better position to rebound, or in order to prevent them from goaltending.     Defence is where Air Alert made the most difference for me. They either had to box me out in order to stop me from goaltending, or try banking it in. I could sit low enough to the ground to defend outside players without losing speed. With a lower net, some players didn’t arc their shots as much, allowing me to swat them away with ease.     There was nothing better than blocking a dunk. Some people took it personally, and would try coming at you on the next play; we all loved blocking Joseph. Still, the best was blocking Norm’s dunks, even if it meant landing on my back.     It was summertime, the final game of the night, with uneven teams and lopsided match-ups, but, somehow, it’s neck and neck. Not only are we still in it, we’ve had the lead. Will is shooting, Nathan is hustling, and I’m blocking everything. My greatest defensive game ends prematurely after I block one of Norm’s dunks, landing horizontally, with all of my weight squarely on my tailbone and elbows. I call it a night, and, in the morning, learned that we had lost immediately after I left.     At this point, I had memorized Air Alert’s number of sets and routines, and so I lent the DVD to Graham. He promised to return it soon. This was in 2010. I learned how to juggle that August, but that didn’t save me either. I kept up my jumping exercises, doing week 4 as maintenance, losing consistency once I started university that fall. Dunkball slowly lost consistency, too, and so I eventually took up the reigns of organizing it. People changed wards, got married, moved, and started families. It was hard to motivate people to come out without a guarantee.     At some point, I became one of the veterans. As Dunkball continued to lose consistency, and as I went through occasional bouts of burn-out withorganizing things, Dunkball changed from being year-round into seasons, and, later, patches, of activity. The benefit of being the one to organize Dunkball is that it allowed me to filter out the jerks between patches of activity. There aren’t a ton of rules, you can make a pass off the wall, you can charge, you can play it in the hall, and goaltending is a way of life, but life is too long to spend it with people who can’t play sports without yelling.     We weren’t as athletic as we once were, but the new players were generally pretty skinny, so we were still able to push them around. I stopped buying bus passes after my first year of university, which helped me to maintain most of my leg strength. While I was in university, I managed to keep most of my vertical, but my confidence became precarious, which affected my intensity. I wasn’t soaking through my shirts anymore, I started to let people push me around.     After I dropped out of university, I grew into a much more sedentary lifestyle. The leg strength I had used to define myself diminished. I’ve had a really hard coping with that. At times, the prospect of playing Dunkball felt more embarrassing than motivating. I felt lost out on the court. I didn’t feel strong enough to bump around in the key, and I felt sluggish trying to play on the outside. Still, I had now been around long enough that I was able to lead a team, if necessary.     I’d hide from my refuge until I felt strong enough to return. Volunteering and winter each got me walking again. Collin organized a soccer team the summer before the pandemic, which got me running and jumping again. I felt more determined, and began to feel better. No longer trapped by where I was, or where I felt I should have been, I was content with making progress.     I think that I handled the early months of the pandemic better than most people. With our usual routines in disarray, I stumbled out of the feedback loop I was caught in. Finding some self-compassion and focus, I created structure to my quarantine in order to work on some goals. I was going to come out of the quarantine dunking. I was joking this time, but I need to dream about something while exercising. Otherwise, I’m just jumping in place, staring at the door. I went through weeks 1-7 of Air Alert, ending with the rest week that marks the halfway point. After which, I returned to doing week 4 to maintain strength.    With churches closed, activities cancelled, and others on lockdown, I started secretly meeting Nik on Saturdays to shoot the ball around. This was back when we were allowed to keep small circles of contacts. The benefit of having keys. The only downside was that the building didn’t have any air circulation outside of facilities management’s offices.     Regarding the pandemic, our city still didn’t have any cases of community transmission. Two of us shooting the ball around became three, and soon we were playing 2-on-2. Dunkball was back, baby! Sans the titular Dunkball, which had gone missing, stolen by missionaries.    I knew that it was only a matter of time before they got rid of the Academy chapel, so I was really motivated to play as much as we could while it was still safe. It took us a little bit before we managed to get six players out on the same day, and we still ended up playing 2’s some nights. We weren’t getting many guys out, but we always had good games. Everyone who came out hustled and was a solid atmosphere guy. We’d mostly play best-of-5 or 7 game series, maybe switching teams up for a final game or two. The series managed to stay pretty tight, with nobody ever reaching a dynasty.     Facilities management leaves the building at 5:30, and, with nobody else around, our secret combination was free to schedule Dunkball whenever we pleased. We were playing twice some weeks. We were able to accommodate people’s schedule. Marvin, my favourite teammate, was able to come out. I hadn’t been able to play with him in years. A high percentage of our small group of players were relatively new to the game. It was really exciting to see them develop, even if Jason blocked me that one time.     I had found my place again, having regained some of my leg strength and quickness. My core and upper-body strength, elusive at the best of times, had become memories, but I worked around that. My game is mostly designed with those absences in mind anyways. Consequently, my play became much more lateral, rather than vertical, after the 4th and, later, 5th game, as Collin noted. I also managed a new trick or two, like learning to bait people into banking their shot, and then blocking it off of the backboard for a quick turnover. My intensity was up, or at least the A/C was down. I was soaking through my shirts again, and I was happy.     It was a hot and humid summer. I missed Jason’s birthday, so I brought some blackout chocolate banana bread to celebrate. As it turns out, a thick moist cake is not refreshing when you’re exhausted and sitting around in a hot and stuffy room you’ve spent the past 2-3 hours further heating up with yer friends. Collin became the MVP the following week when he brought a box of freezies with him. All my life, I had never seen their true worth or potential. I took them for granted in my youth, and turned my nose up at them as I grew older. Now I understood.     I had Dunkball, I had friendly players who responded when I tried organizing things, we had freezies, and, as the Ward Clerk, I had convinced my Bishop that we should buy a new ball (despite the fact that playing at the Church was still verboten.) I was grateful, but I still longed for a day where we had more than 4-6 players, so that we could have subs between games. It’s nice to be able to switch up teams between games, rather than trying to push Arles all night. It’s even nicer to sit down every once in a while, especially after failing to push Arles around.     Our province was still fairly safe, but that was beginning to change. Two regulars had at risk family members, and we began seeing community transmission. I planned to end what was to be the penultimate season of Dunkball after Labour Day. I was concerned what would happen once the school year started.     Before then, we had eight* people come out to Dunkball one morning. Four pairs of family members, in fact. This gave us rotations between games, and a variety of playing styles, leading to more interesting match-ups and dynamics. Whoever loses would get to take a break; excitement was in the air! I questioned Collin’s choice of shoes. He reminded me that I’m solely responsible for their condition. I lend Collin my shoes. He likes the shoes, and I like his freezies. *the ideal amount is 8-9 people     Shoot for teams: Graham, Collin, and I hit our shots. Collin has speed, Graham has range and strength, I have the height, and we all rebound. We win the first game easily, manage to survive the second, and win our third. Dynasty! Shoot for teams again, and I’m back on the floor with David and Marvin. David anchors the key, allowing me to cheat on defence, while Marvin generates offence and creates mismatches. We all defend. Three more wins, and it’s another dynasty! Marvin and I sit this time, and watch as Jacob (handles), Graham, and Jason (positioning) steal the game.     Marvin and I go back on with Limhi, a guard heavy team playing an post-player’s game. They shoot and pass, drawing out the defence, while I set picks, prevent goaltending, and try to clean up on the boards. They cover the outside, while I guard the inside. When the other team goes to the inside, I make their post-player turn away from the net, where either Marvin or Limhi, cheating off of their man, are waiting to strip them of the ball. We win the first game, taking back the floor. They carry me through the second. Last game of the day, and the other team starts to fall apart. As per tradition, we extend the game, but only to to 15, because only Graham and I want to play to 21.     We stumble as they regroup, but Jacob gets frustrated, and their chemistry falters. I assume that I’m to blame, become self-conscious, and begin calling fouls on myself whenever I make any contact with the other team. Of course, this happens on every play, because I’m trying to box out my brother. I get some weird looks as David sighs, he just wants it to be over. I get a clean stop, Limhi scores, and the day ends on a third dynasty. I remain undefeated. Freezies for everyone!     That was the third to last time we played Dunkball. We had another night with six players, and ended the season with a morning of playing 2-on-2, after which we ran out of freezies. I was optimistic that we’d be back playing sometime in the New Year. We barely registered a first wave of the pandemic, but restrictions ended prematurely, and school started back up. Cases kept climbing.     I was scared in October, but that was only the beginning. When we first started playing Dunkball that summer, our province was first in the country. By Christmas, we had become the worst. We began to curb the number of new cases, but restrictions were eased before hospitals finished dealing with the second wave. In May, we began transferring patients to other provinces. For some reason, the plan is to reopen in July.     For some reason, a duo tried organizing ball in March. I declined. Our congregation was changing buildings, so Nik and I went over to grab some stuff. I found that our Dunkball had gone missing again, but I found the original Dunkball, which hasn’t held air since 2015, and brought it home. In April, facilities management began clearing out the Academy chapel, in anticipation of listing the building for sale. They didn’t inform our Bishop until later that week. He went over to pack anything worth keeping, only to have found that they had already junked everything belonging to our congregation, as well everything belonging to the Yazidi community group that had been meeting there prior to the pandemic.     I don’t know the building’s current status. Nik and I kept our keys in the hopes of playing again, but it’s unlikely that things will be safe to go back to normal in time. Dunkball exists as a time and a place: Thursday nights after Institute class at Academy. Last fall, they moved institute classes over to the stake centre. The Academy building is being sold now, and Dunkball is over as we know it.     As I previously mentioned, I lent Graham, the Gordie Howe of Dunkball, my Air Alert DVD and booklet back in 2010. For the past ten years now, he has meant to return it, only for it to slip his mind. I usually forget about it, myself, only for him to remind me when he apologizes. In the moment, I sorta feel guilty that he worries about it. I mean, it’s fine, I don’t need it. He’s put it on his desk, he’s placed it by the door, and though he’s either seen me or a member of my family at least once a week for the past decade, my copy of Air Alert still hasn’t made its way back to me. I’m not even sure that I want it back, but I appreciate his sincerity.     It’s become tradition for him to maintain this false tension between us. At this point, I’d hate to see it go. What if this tension is what’s sustained our friendship throughout all these years? What if Graham’s only been coming out to Dunkball because he feels guilty? I won’t see him at Dunkball anymore, and, as of this week, he won’t be seeing me at church anymore. It’s things like this that keep us alive. I hope that Graham never returns my copy of Air Alert, but I hope that he always tries. ”There is no end to matter, There is no end to space, There is no end to Dunkball, There is no end to race.” - If You Could Hie to Kolob Dunkball, by W.W. Phelps.

I could have gone on about my legs, honestly. Now, I only included those formative texts that I’m willing to admit are still a part of me. I did not include those works whose influences I feel that I have repented of, which is why the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin footage of Bigfoot from Bluff Creek, California, The Weezer Video Capture Device, Newsies, The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, nor anything related to Dorm Life or MST3K are not included on my ballot. In any case, I’m sorry not to have found room for Johnny Guitar.

[fun-family]

These feminist films of 2020 are actually the most disempowering.

After I watched the film “Promising Young Woman” I spent days in an internal tangent over what I did not like about the film. I realized that this internal tangent was very similar to the one I’d had after watching “Wonder Woman 1984″. I’ve concluded that it’s because both of these films were marketed as feminist films centering on powerful female protagonists and neither delivered.

(SPOILERS & LONG REVIEW AHEAD)

First, let’s look at Wonder Woman 1984. In the first film, Diana was curious, naive, and playful. We watched her learn about the world. We felt her heartbreak when people weren’t as good as she believed them to be. We saw her eyes opened a little bit more. 

While the sequel may have taken place decades later, there seemed to be nothing of Diana left. The 1980′s were an iconic time in America and Diana had little interaction with any of it. She was in a mall, okay, but her style was unchanged. Her home decor was bland. Her hobbies nonexistent. Why has Diana stopped engaging in the world?

The film seemed to want us to believe that Diana was stuck on Steve, that she had been pining (more like Chris Pining....sorry) over him for actual DECADES. He was the first man she’d ever been with and there’s nothing to suggest he isn’t the ONLY man. Diana is a GOD. She is an Amazonian princess. Why does she have to be a saint? If you’re going to make a female superhero virginal, at least give me a reason for it aside from “Her heart is broken.”

You know what would have been better? If another Amazon joined Diana in the city and she was the fish-out-of-water, not Steve. Diana could have shown her everything she loved about the 1980′s. We could have learned more about Diana’s life. Every other superhero gets to have a life outside of being a hero. This movie deprived Diana of that.

Now, let’s talk about Barbara Minerva (Kristen Wiig). Why is it that in film when a woman is becoming “more attractive” she loses her glasses and starts wearing heavy eyeliner? WHY? Give me a break. And the film wouldn’t even let us have Barbara as a true villain, she had to be “losing her soul”. Her evilness was out of her control. Why did Barbara have to be a victim? Why do women have to be the victim so often? Why are women only allowed to be strong if they have superhero strength in this universe? Barbara was deprived the chance to be a formidable opponent for Diana. Are we really so afraid to have two women battle in a film that we must turn one into a big cat? In the first film Diana didn’t want to save Ares, she wanted to kill him. If you don’t want Diana to kill a human, give her another God to kill. This sequel seemed to forget that Diana was once called the God Killer.

Finally, the elephant in the WW84 room is that Steve is in another man’s body, a man who is not conscious of what is happening and is not able to consent to what is done to said body. This isn’t okay, and if this was the movie “Promising Young Woman”, the character Cassie would give Diana a stern talking to and then walk away.

And yes, with that I am going to transition to “Promising Young Woman.”

The trailers for “Promising Young Woman” gave me the impression that, while the film was going to be a bit “on the nose” I was going to watch a bunch of shitty dudes get murdered. Or at the very least, I thought they would get a nice big tattoo like Lisbeth gave her rapist guardian in “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.”

I imagine the suggested violence and then the lack of it was intentional. The character Cassie almost never breaks the law. She is always in the “right”. The men are in the wrong and we live in a culture that has allowed men to sexually  assault women without consequence. That message was loud and clear.

But in this film the assaulters still don’t have any consequences. Are we supposed to believe that Cassie’s intimidation is making a difference and that her death makes a difference? It seems likely the men she confronted will keep assaulting women and just find ways to make sure their date is truly unconscious. The men who were arrested at the end would probably get away with it because they’re rich, white, and, if none of them confess, it would be hard to prove which person in the group killed her.

The biggest question the film left me asking was: Why do women always have to sacrifice themselves for men?

Aside from that very big issue, I also felt the character of Cassie was all style and no substance. Her outfits, her environments were so manicured. Her final outfit felt designed specifically to become a Halloween costume; the nurse costume and the wig are probably coming to a Spirit Halloween near you. It’s like they portrayed this very real problem in our society in a very unrealistic way.

I know everyone is raving about Carey Mulligan’s performance, but she’s played far more dynamic characters in her career. For example her roles in “Wildlife”, “Mudbound”, “Shame”, and “Never Let Me Go”.

I suppose this role was more subtle, but I got the sense that Cassie was supposed to be a stereotypical Manic Pixie Dream Girl. And I understand that what happened to Cassie’s friend and the response by the school and the authorities has left her traumatized, depressed, and apathetic. But I find it hard to see how the men didn’t win in this film. Cassie lost her best friend, she lost her education and her career, she lost her social ties, and then she lost her life. Maybe I’m missing the moral of this story, or maybe I just don’t like it.

The final point I want to discuss with “Promising Young Woman” is one that bothers me in society in general. There are multiple points in the film when we’re told how smart Nina was, how she was the top of her class, and how they both would have been amazing doctors. And I actually yelled at my TV, “It shouldn’t matter how smart Nina was!” Even if she was failing her classes she didn’t deserve to be sexually assaulted. It’s a societal problem that we need victims of abuse to be promising in order to care that they were abused.

And if the character of Cassie is trying to be a defender of women, a martyr of sorts, why is she so dismissive of the teenage girl in the coffee shop? Her character sets out to punish men and in turn protect women from being assaulted, and yet she treats a teenage girl like garbage, like she doesn’t matter. I guess in this universe you only deserve respect if you’re a smart, successful female, not a teenage girl who dares to ask the barista for another coffee.

The protagonists of “Promising Young Woman” and “Wonder Woman 1984″ exemplify the very things they’re supposed to be fighting against and maybe that would work if it seemed at all intentional. Both of these films marketed themselves as the feminist films of 2020, but ultimately diminished the strength of the very female protagonists they had set out to empower.

There are far better films out there with strong female protagonists. Here are a few of my favorites: Winter’s Bone, Alien, Furie, First Wives Club, Okja, Mad Max: Fury Road, Girl’s Trip, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2009), Mulan (1998), Sweetheart, Westward the Women, Waitress, Annihilation, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, A League of Their Own, Little Monsters (2019)

[richincolor]

Group Discussion: Fat Chance, Charlie Vega

*As is usual with our discussions, there may be a few spoilers ahead so beware.*

We were all eager to read something fun as we were getting to the one year mark in this very challenging time. Fat Chance, Charlie Vega seemed like a promising pick - and it proved to be exactly what we were seeking. I'm thankful that author Crystal Maldonado shared Charlie with the world. To find out more about Crystal, hop over to the interview here. It was great to hear directly from her about her writing.

Publisher summary: Coming of age as a Fat brown girl in a white Connecticut suburb is hard. Harder when your whole life is on fire, though.

Charlie Vega is a lot of things. Smart. Funny. Artistic. Ambitious. Fat.

People sometimes have a problem with that last one. Especially her mom. Charlie wants a good relationship with her body, but it's hard, and her mom leaving a billion weight loss shakes on her dresser doesn't help. The world and everyone in it have ideas about what she should look like: thinner, lighter, slimmer-faced, straighter-haired. Be smaller. Be whiter. Be quieter.

But there's one person who's always in Charlie's corner: her best friend Amelia. Slim. Popular. Athletic. Totally dope. So when Charlie starts a tentative relationship with cute classmate Brian, the first worthwhile guy to notice her, everything is perfect until she learns one thing—he asked Amelia out first. So is she his second choice or what? Does he even really see her?

Because it's time people did.

A sensitive, funny, and painful coming-of-age story with a wry voice and tons of chisme, Fat Chance, Charlie Vega tackles our relationships to our parents, our bodies, our cultures, and ourselves.

Let the discussion begin...

Crystal: Fat Chance, Charlie Vega made me smile just when I needed plenty of smiles. Over the past twelve months, I’ve found myself picking up many more rom-coms than usual. Even with the difficulties that the main character might face, readers still get to hope for at least a partially happy or hopeful ending and that is what I’ve been craving. Stories that deliver some joy can sure make a day brighter and Charlie’s story, totally did that for me.

K. Imani: I so agree. I’ve been doing the same over the past year and I really needed this sweet story. Like you Charlie’s story made me smile so many times. I loved how much she grew in this story and how she had such a loving heart.

Jessica: Ditto! There were so many times I looked up from reading and realized I was actually, physically smiling. I can’t get enough of YA romance right now.

Audrey: Fat Chance, Charlie Vega had some incredibly sweet and genuinely happy moments, and I was really glad we all agreed on this one for our first book discussion this year. That’s not to say there aren’t hard parts in this book--there are some that hit incredibly close to home--but it was so very nice to settle down with a book that had promised us an uplifting ending. I plowed through it in just two days and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Crystal: I found the cover to be simply lovely. Charlie is gorgeous and looks like she’s feeling beautiful in the midst of the flowers and warm colors. And she’s wearing glasses. I’ve worn glasses for most of my life, but when I was young, I thought nobody sophisticated or beautiful wore them if they could help it. Ruse by Cindy Pon, When Dimple Met Rishi (back of cover) and Slay by Brittney Morris are really the only other YA book covers I can think of that feature a main character with glasses. Mei in American Panda references her nearsightedness, but her mother says that “no woman is attractive in glasses” so Mei doesn’t wear them. Maybe there are other books, but there certainly aren’t many so it was fun to see Charlie rocking her glasses.

K. Imani: Fellow glasses wearer here too and I loved that the cover had Charlie wearing her glasses and that throughout the book she would fiddle with her glasses. It was such a small thing, but I loved how Maldonado wrote the little habits glass wearers do that are tied to how we’re feeling, use as a distraction, etc, that our glasses are really an extension of our being.

Jessica: Fat Chance, Charlie Vega definitely was one of my favorite YA covers to come out in recent years. The colors, the character, the font! Everything about the cover was just so gorgeous.

Audrey: I adore the cover. Not just because Charlie is a fat, glasses-wearing Latina like me but also because it reminded me a lot of Charlie’s references to the body positivity and fat fashion movements. The cover could be an Instagram post--Charlie front and center, looking right at the camera, all dressed up and with a gorgeous background behind her. Ericka Lugo, the Puerto Rican illustrator who designed the cover, did a phenomenal job.

Crystal: Charlie is delightful, but her relationships are seriously complicated. She has some work to do in her relationships with her mom, food, her best friend, her crushes, and most importantly with herself. This is the messiness that makes Charlie’s story feel real. The book did make me smile, but there are some struggles here too and I appreciated that Maldonado let us see Charlie do some hard work.

K. Imani: I feel like all the messiness from Charlie’s relationships is what really connected me to her. No one is perfect 100% of the time and sometimes we get into our own heads and can sabotage ourselves with our relationships. The thing with Charlie is that she learned from it, told people how she felt and made amends. Such great personal growth that is a tough journey to go on, but one we humans do on a constant basis.

Jessica: I loved that the book didn’t shy away from the messiness and complicated aspects of Charlie’s relationships, particularly with her best friend and her mother. I especially loved how Charlie’s relationships tangibly changed and grew as the book progressed -- she called out her mother on her mother’s toxic behavior, and got to a better place with Amelia. So many complex relationships were in play, and the nuance given to each relationship was really incredible.

Audrey: I think some of the most honest parts in this book were when Charlie knew--intellectually--that there was absolutely nothing wrong with being fat, that being fat doesn’t mean unhealthy or unloveable, but she was still affected by those messages and ideas. She still bought into some of them even while acknowledging they were wrong and unfair. It was rough to see her deal with those things and how they affected her own self-esteem and her relationships with others, but it was also incredibly genuine.

Crystal: Many of the issues with relationships are tangled up in how Charlie sees her body. She’s fat and is working hard to have a good and positive relationship with her body, but this is a journey that has ups and downs especially since it seems that some people aren’t willing to accept Charlie as she is. Her own mother seems to think Charlie’s body is not beautiful at the present size and thinks losing weight is essential for Charlie’s happiness. The U.S. culture strongly equates worth with our beauty standards and many of us don’t see how damaging this can be for ourselves and others. Readers can even see this in the relationship Charlie’s mother has with her own body.

K. Imani: Charlie’s relationship with her mother bothered me so much and showed how toxic our society is towards women’s bodies that her mother didn’t even realize she was hurting her child. I’m glad that Charlie sought out the body positive movement and referenced it a number of times throughout the book so folks could see how seeing yourself represented living a fully happy life, despite your size, is life affirming. It definitely was a nice juxtaposition to the messages she was receiving from her mother. On a side note, I really enjoyed how Charlie was a secret clothes hoarder and that she had a great sense of fashion.

Jessica: I sound like a broken record now, but I’m seriously in awe of how Charlie’s relationships -- particularly with her mother -- are portrayed. It’s messy, and tough, and I absolutely cheered when Charlie really told her mother how she felt. I also loved how the story depicted Charlie’s own not-so-linear journey when it came to her self-esteem, and the role that online communities played in that. Sometimes it’s easy to think of the internet as just a place of toxicity and trolls, but the truth is that there are so many wonderful communities online.

Audrey: Charlie’s relationship with her mom was so difficult and complicated, especially with her mother having put so much effort into losing weight and being able to keep it off. At one point Charlie acknowledges that her mom probably doesn’t even realize she’s being cruel. It was such a relief when Charlie was finally able to express her feelings about her mom’s behavior and comments. It didn’t magically make things better, but Charlie was able to say what she really thought and tell her mother that she was hurting her. There were a lot of painful conversations in this book, but in the end they helped Charlie sort out her important relationships and her feelings about herself.

Crystal: I agree with Brian and Charlie that Valentine’s Day isn't always great for everyone. The heart-meltingly sweet way that Brian dealt with that made me smile. To later find out that Crystal Maldonado experienced something very similar with her husband when they were younger made it even sweeter.

K. Imani: I loved what Brian did for Charlie, and their classmates, on Valentine’s day. It was so sweet and moving and definitely endeared me to his character.

Jessica: Regarding the valentines: Gasp. I did not know that! That’s so sweet. Wow.

Audrey: That’s so sweet! I really liked reading about Brian and Charlie’s relationship. The Valentine’s Day scene was incredibly endearing, and their bookstore date was also lovely. There were several great moments between them as their romance developed. I especially appreciated that Charlie--a fat character!--got to want and enjoy things like hand holding and kissing and being attracted to someone and feeling attractive. I loved all of that.

Crystal: I think we can all agree that reading this book was a delight. We recommend it especially if you’re looking for something to give you a little joy. If you’ve read it, please share your thoughts on the blogpost or on our Twitter account. We’d love to hear from you.

[gayregis]

Hey! It’s me again, the Meh Anon! Suddenly remembered how dirty tnw treated Foltest!! “Foltest was young, with pretty - too pretty - face. He was not yet forty, as witcher assumed” and on the screen I see some... some... *clenches fist with anger* I didn’t rewatch that, bc I can’t handle that imposter, so some details in the show may have escaped me, but strigga was also big disappointment even before books. It looks like Koschei and not... well strigga. (I admit though about strigga it may be my preference? I mean, I imagined strigga to be not really like that. And also with more reddish hair) what your thoughts on king Foltest and how tnw showed him?

oh i hated how twn portrayed him! as soon as they cut to him eating chicken, i was so disappointed! one of my favorite things about geralt is how he can talk to anyone from the lowest peasant classes to the highest royalty and be equally annoyed with the lot of them, and equally both respects and criticizes all of them the same way... and foltest paralleled geralt and made some kind of social statement, because he is so beautiful and esteemed to be a pretty king sitting on a throne, yet he did the vile act of bedding his sister. whereas geralt, a despised vagrant with dusty boots and a worn jerkin, is the one that not only solves the problem but shows mercy to the girl.

i think the idea of him being gluttonous represented through him eating chicken was also entirely lost because they never established geralt as being forever-hungry, as he is in the books. i think it’s a weird sort of flipping of messages, because what it reminds me of is in blood of elves when yennefer and dandelion are eating chicken, and dandelion eats with his hands while yennefer eats with a fork and knife, dandelion observes that she must be “who geralt learnt the neat trick from” but comments upon how much meat is left on the bones. in this scene in boe, it represents that dandelion, to use modern terms, lives “paycheck to paycheck,” as does geralt, and so the normal thing is to use your hands to eat - nothing wrong with it. yennefer stands out because she acts refined like nobility, is powerful and dignified even in the most subtle of manners. but also, scenes like geralt in a little sacrifice scarfing down food at the table because he hadn’t eaten in two days... i feel like in the books, eating food messily was not representative of “bad” or “evil” like it is in the netflix series with these shots of foltest, instead it was tied to the very human concept of eating, having hunger, sating one’s needs, and that begrudinging feeling towards the reality of always being hungry, which is relatable for many audiences both physically and figuratively. it’s a different take on food and its relationship to people, which is that people will always be hungry, and they will always eat food, and eating food is a very human notion and it is a time to rejoice and be happy because hey, you have food! whereas with foltest, it was like, look at this disgusting greedy bastard eating chicken... this man also fucked his sister dont forget because we will make jokes about incest in 5 minutes... like, very gross, very disrespectful, completely out of touch with the human condition in my opinion. maybe it is just me but this is actually an important topic for me lol because i used to be ashamed of being hungry because i did not want to spend money to go and buy meals, but thinking about geralt and dandelion’s takes on what food is and how human and necessary it is to eat, it makes me not ashamed of being hungry. i think dandelion’s ideas in a little sacrifice about festivities and how humans need food, drink, parties, love, dance, song, etc... genuinely changed or at least amplified that part of my worldview. in the very dandelon-style of a worldview, one shouldn’t feel ashamed of pleasure, to give into pleasures is not evil. this is very asides the point but i just feel like twn really upset me with this both removal of geralt’s poverty and addition of foltest’s gluttony lol.

as for the striga.. i agree, i did not like the design. i imagined it to mimic the features of princess adda a bit more, with long red hair, maybe looking like an emaciated teenager, to demonstrate how she is sincerely a child but one that has been “discarded,” and this is the result of that. my takes on this might not be so good because foltest’s actions disgust me so i don’t tend to reread this story often but this is just what i feel like. there were not enough shots of her eyes/teeth/claws in my opinion, though i did think the ending sequence with her in the fetal position was cool and artistic (though did not need to be paired with yennefer’s magical plastic surgery. i get the parallels that they were trying to make but i feel it was inappropriate because of the focus on a woc’s (violated and sliced open) nude body being “transformed” from being disabled to abled “miraculously” and being “reborn” ... like this ruined the scene for me it was uncomfortable to see anya in that pain which was totally unnecessary and not canon, just done to shock audiences, because blood, gore, and nude women screaming are the only things that get people to watch television shows apparently).

[sarcastic-sunshines]

Before Abiona Interlude Part 8: Meet the Parents Part 2

Pairing: T’ Challa x Black!Reader

Warning(s): None

Link to ABIONA by @aloevverified

Link to Face claims (2)

Previous Chapter: Interlude Part 7

A/N: It's been a minute since I've updated this story, and I still love it and have written quite a bit of it and just haven't shared. I'm gonna be posting the chapters I have done and updating my masterlist. I won't be tagging anyone but if you do find time read, I hope to hear what you think about it. As always, hope y'all are staying safe, and please go get vaccinated.

Meet the Parents Part 2

T’Challa checked his watch before turning back to the television. Alix had been getting ready for a long time. He was more than ready to head to dinner with his mother and Shuri. Alix as usual was taking her sweet time finding something to wear. It seemed to be taking a little longer today, and T’Challa knew it was the nerves. He finally got up and headed to the bedroom to find Alix on the floor in one of his T-shirts. He smiled a bit at the site but also knew that meant his closet had been raided and was probably a mess.

“Alixandre, may I ask why you are on the floor in my shirt while this room looks like a tornado has made a visit” Alix rolled her eyes before turning to look at him.

“I can’t find anything to wear”

“That is because your closet is a mess”

“No! It’s because nothing fits! I look like a beachball!” T’challa took a step back sensing her frustration.

“Okay, how about you and I work on this together?” he said, kneeling down to help her up.

“As much as sitting here sulking feels like the preferred option I cannot let you do that so how about we get up and find something that I know you will look amazing in. Plus I am looking with non-judgemental eyes”

“Fine” She reached down to grab a couple of the options she didn’t completely hate and dropped them on the bed next to where T’challa had decided to sit. She looked at him as though she was waiting for something.

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes I can’t change in front of you.” T’Challa rolled his eyes.

“Alix you can easily go to the bathroom, but to be honest there really isn’t anything I haven’t seen before,” He said with a smirk as Alix threw a piece of clothing at him.

“I don’t care. Close your eyes T’Challa” T’Challa continued to smile at how flustered she was becoming. “T’Challa now!”

“Okay, okay, okay” She slipped on the first look and faced him before tapping him to see.

“I think you look lovely, but you seem a little uncomfortable and the restaurant we are going to is a bit more formal.”

“I thought as much” She stared at T’Challa waiting for him to close his eyes

“Oh, right I forgot” She smiled softly before picking another dress and tapping T’Challa. He slowly opened his eyes and was immediately enamoured with Alix’s beauty.

“So are you going to just stare or are you going to say something” T’Challa blinked a few times before speaking

“Alix you look absolutely stunning. Just so much beauty that my words are lost” Alix smiled but looked away. “However, this is too formal. It is not a wedding, just dinner.”

She rolled her eyes, making T'Challa laugh as he closed his eyes.

“Okay, you can open now” T’Challa opened and smiled.

“I think we have a winner. You look gorgeous”

“You said that about every look,” Alix said, turning for T’Challa to help with the zipper while smoothing down her dress.

“And I was not lying, he said with a kiss on her shoulder. Plus you look comfortable in this one”

“Okay fashion critic, the show is over. Maybe you should start coming with me to the shop since you love everything” She joked

“I would be honoured. Now finish getting ready so we can go please.” T’Challa said before exiting the room. Leaving Alix to have to sit to gather her thoughts. She didn’t understand how someone could be so unintentionally sweet, yet it was one of her favourite qualities about T’Challa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alix peaked over at T’Challa as he drove, he looked calm, meanwhile, she felt like she was holding a huge breath that she wasn’t sure when she could release.

“So, I guess it is my turn to ask but is there anything about your mom or sister that I need to know that I don’t already” T’Challa glanced at her quickly and could feel the nervousness radiating off of Alix. He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“ Don’t worry, you will be fine. My mother is very sweet, and will only ask you questions to try and get to know you. As for Shuri” He smiled before continuing “You will love her, she is the funniest and smartest person I know. But do not tell her I said that. It makes her head big”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Alix joked as T’Challa laughed. “So your father, he couldn’t make it then?”

T’Challa grew quiet as he carefully thought about what to say.

“Baba had a meeting that he would not - I mean could not miss. That he could not miss“ T’Challa grew quiet as he tried to steady his face to avoid showing any of the pain that his father’s disapproval brought him. Alix looked over and grabbed his forearm in an attempt to comfort him.

“No one said merging worlds was easy right?”

T’Challa smiled at the contact before nodding in agreement. As they pulled up to the restaurant, Alix noticed some women in simple black dresses and shaven heads waiting outside. T’Challa opened the door for her, he nodded in the direction of the women, confirming Alix’s suspicions that they were Doras.

They entered the restaurant and the hostess immediately recognized T’Challa and led the two of them to the back of the restaurant, which was already fairly empty despite the time of the evening. Alix held on to T’Challa’s hand and said

“ I mean I knew you were important, but never did I imagine being in a near-empty restaurant that is being guarded by your nation's most powerful warriors”

“Does that scare you?” He said, slowing down and looking at Alix.

“No, but it is just a bit strange if anything. I forget this is what your normal life is like. And reminds me how much you keep it away from me and I will be getting more exposed to once the baby is here”

“I hope you know I will try my best to maintain your sense of normalcy and independence. But let's not worry about that until later okay” T’Challa finally turned back to the hostess who held a door open for them. Once they were in, a huge smile covered his face as he let go of Alix’s hand and walked over to Shuri who he greeted by doing their handshake.

“It took you long enough brother. I was starving.” T’Challa sarcastically rolled his eyes still smiling before going over to his mother and hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Hello Mama, I am sorry for being late. Though I have a good reason and she is standing over there” T’Challa held his mother’s hand and guided her towards Alix who was trying to portray the normal level of confidence she usually possessed.

“Mama, Shuri, this is Alix Ajayi”

“It is lovely to meet you Queen Mother”

“It is nice to finally meet you too. I have heard so much about you” She said pulling Alix into a hug.

“Yes, brother literally never stops talking about you. Like ever” Shuri said before hugging Alix who quietly laughed as T’Challa struggled to hide his embarrassment.

“I have other matters I discuss”

“Yes, but your favourite is Alix and the baby.”

“Maybe we should all sit now,” Ramonda said as the siblings stopped their bickering. Alix took a seat next to T’Challa who casually placed his hand on her thigh. He had become more physical with her as time went on, but for some reason, she was letting her boundaries fall and couldn’t find it in her to do anything but enjoy it.

“Alix you look beautiful by the way. You are absolutely glowing” Ramonda complimented

“Yes, your outfit is amazing. The colour red looks lovely on you” Shuri continued

“Thank you both”

“So how far along are you now?”

“I am six and half months. More than halfway there” Alix replied smiling at T’Challa

“That’s less than three months. So am I having a niece or nephew because I have a few name suggestions for both” T’Challa decided to answer for Alix.

“Actually Shuri, we do not know. We are keeping it a surprise”

“Why?”

“Yes why Alix, I have been asking T’Challa for weeks and still nothing. I was telling him that I have some baby designs I would love to get started on”

“I know you all find out quite quickly, but I have just decided to wait and find out when the baby is here.”

“Plus either way we will love the baby, and its sex does not matter. And mama you can make clothes after I promise” T’Challa said knowing Alix did not feel like sharing her reasoning with anyone so he did not mind keeping his family out of the loop on this one. He was just happy that he was able to see the three most important women in his life sitting together. Food was brought out and everything seemed to be going well.

“Alix, do you have any siblings?” Shuri asked.

“ I actually have a younger brother. His name is Jules. He is really funny but has a big heart. We have a big age gap like you and T’Challa.”

“ Is he excited to be an uncle like Shuri here cannot wait to have the baby in her lab”

“I am hoping the baby will be as smart as me even though I am smarter than their Baba”

“I allow you to think you are smarter”

“Your designs and projects would beg to differ” Alix laughed at the exchange, it reminded her of Jules. She also loved how relaxed T’Challa was around his family, his smile appeared brighter

“ My designs and projects are just as good as yours little sister”

“Yet somehow remain archaic and lack swag”

“Shuri” Her mother warned as T’Challa smirked at his sister’s scolding. “Anyways, what about your parents Alix, how do they feel about this ?”

“They were both a bit apprehensive but they are now excited to be grandparents, especially maman. And she loves T’Challa. They are always gossiping to one another”

“Of course they are, Brother loves drama, but pretends he doesn’t”

“It is not pretending if it is true” All three women laughed at his statement knowing he was lying.

“Brother you know there is a new season of Golden City Housewives”

“Hmm, interesting” T’Challa said nonchalantly although everyone knew he was already scheduling time to watch it later.

“What about your father, how does he feel about everything?” Both T’Challa and Alix looked at each other trying to find the right words to describe Tolu’s disdain for T’Challa and his involvement in Alix’s life.

“Umm, he is coming around slowly”

“Well, at least he and Baba have something in common” Shuri said as she avoided her brother’s piercing eyes. “Anyways, I have to know, what in Bast name attracted you to my brother”

“Shuri!”

“What I need to know, she is dating him” T’Challa and Alix again turned to each other.

“Actually, we aren’t dating, right now just focused on bringing this little person into the world,” T’Challa responded as Shuri looked at them skeptically.

“You are kidding right”

“No we're not, your brother and I are taking this slow”

“Not with all that hand holding your not” Alix immediately let go of T’Challa’s hand. T’Challa looked a little hurt but wasn’t shocked by Alix’s reaction.

“Why don’t we get dessert and then Shuri and I can start heading home.” Everyone awkwardly agreed before calling the waitress over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride home did not lose its awkwardness and at home was not different. They got home late so Alix assumed they would just go to bed. But T’Challa never showed up. So she rolled out of bed and headed to the living room where only the light from the television was illuminating the room. She found T’Challa eating the cheesecake that he made the waitress pack for him, totally absorbed by whatever he was watching. She slowly approached him and he turned to look at her. He paused the tv before speaking.

“I thought you were sleeping”

“ No I was waiting for you but you never came” Alix took his plate to the kitchen and added a slice of cheesecake and another fork before coming back and sitting next to T’Challa. “What are you watching?”

“Golden City Housewives” Alix turned to look at him as he tried to hide his smile.

“You are so predictable sometimes”

“The housewives of Birnin Zana are much different from the Americans yet hold the same level of dramatics. It is good research. And I had to see whether Bugani ever confronted Akhona about not choosing her restaurant as the location for her gallery” Alix laughed as she took a bite and laid her head against his shoulder. T’Challa noticed and smiled, “Fair warning Alix, all this contact may cause the TV to think we are a couple” Alix lifted her head to face him

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like-”

“I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t surprised. You do this quite often and that is okay. I wish you wouldn’t but I understand that is all confusing to you” He said in between bites.

“ And this isn’t for you?”

“I came here knowing I wanted to be with you Alixandre. My time here has only turned that want into a need. I am just waiting for you to join me. I don’t mind waiting” He said before turning back to the television, leaving Alix to take in his face and marvel at the man who made her question every move that she made while also allowing her to be as carefree as she pleased.

“ Your mother is very sweet, yet she has a serious aura about her. I can see where you get it from. “

“Mama can be serious when she wants yes, but she definitely is often my comfort. It has really helped me to have her on my side during all of this”

“ And your sister is a firecracker. She makes me laugh”

“Yes, I saw how hard you laughed when I was the bud of the joke.” Alix giggled “But yes, despite the age gap, she sometimes is my best friend.” T’Challa ended with a smile, “I think it went well though. Shuri told me she really likes you”

“And your mother”

“She said she understands why my father had so many headaches dealing with you and she admires your persistence and sense of self”

“Hmm I like that, you think the worlds are starting to merge?” she asked while putting down the plate and leaning back on his shoulder.

“They have definitely moved closer,” He said, kissing her hand before closing his fingers around hers. Alix smiled and kissed his shoulder in return. T'Challa started to feel like a need as well. She didn’t know how to feel about it but was happy T’Challa was willing to wait for her to figure it out.

[mozambique-and-a-dream]

Heteronormativity in Apex Legends

Tom made this tweet in response to someone, inquiring about heteronormativity in Apex. Having studied it in post secondary, I decided to write up a bit. I’m far to much of a coward to send it to him or put it on Twitter (twitter is very scary) but I was bullied into putting it on tumblr. I only dived into a few of the characters here cause it started getting really long

First let’s define heteronormativity to avoid confusion

Heteronormativity: is the belief that heterosexuality, predicated on the gender binary, is the norm or default sexual orientation. It assumes that sexual and marital relations are most fitting between people of opposite sex. Challenging heteronormative assumptions is not the same as challenging heterosexuality: the sexuality of heterosexual people is as valid as that of LGBTQ+ individuals. Rather, people seek to dismantle the belief that heterosexuality is the only natural sexuality and affirm the existence and rights of LGBTQ+ individuals as equally valid. Gender also plays into heteronormativity and the idea of enforcing gender roles.

I do realize many of these things may not have been intended in Apex but that doesn’t mean they are not present. I mean no hate of any sorts towards any of the creators or anyone who has different ideas, I am a big fan of the game and characters, and it is key to remember that heteronormativity is always around us so by pointing it out as asked, I am simply here to show that if you look under different, feminist lenses, you can find the heteronormativity, as you can in any media source if you look at the different ways a message can be interpreted by different people

Let’s begin shall we

Mirage

Specifically states he is interested in only women, nothing else. Gets anxious about it. While it could hint towards him being closeted, it still implies right off of the bat that straight relationships are the norm, only drugs brought him to his only non woman relationship (yes I’m referring to the pumpkin)

flirts with an AI robot simply because it sounds like a female.

only deemed useful to Loba because he is easily swayed by women

all of his lines where he revives Loba are direct jabs at stereotypical gender roles

Gibraltar

minor point here gotten from leaks (sorry). Confirmed gay character, has potential to be good rep but rather falls into the “sad gays” trope often seen in media ( not in a relationship because he can’t move past a previous one ).

Still better than the Bury Your Gays trope though so that’s cool

Loba (lots about gender roles here folks!)

Uses sex appeal to get what she wants. Works best on men. Her whole character is based around men’s interest in women.

despite being confirmed bisexual all of her flirting has been with men

• However at this point shall she flirt with women as well as a means to get what she wants, if written the wrong way, may appear to frame bisexuality in a poor way (making it seem like she’s only interested as a means of manipulation is harmful to the community)

Her design is tailored to men ( all her videos feature ass shots, camera focus on her cleavage and hips, not to mention within a week of her release searches for Loba and Apex Legends on porn websites skyrocketed, sights more commonly used by men )

She has many lines complaining about her outfit (“it’s a long way to the ring and I’m in pumps”) this makes it feel like she is being forced to wear these things (going into the belief that it is a woman’s job to look nice) rather than wearing them to look good, that she isn’t actually wearing the outfit for herself, rather for others / to fill gender roles

the game has a confirmed non-binary character that she does not acknowledge, refers to her teammates as “boys and girls” implying a heteronormative view that gender is strictly male or female. This point may not directly be Loba, rather writing, but the implications are there. Even though there was a bit of an explanation for this line, the fact that it is not in game still portrays the line as heterormative.

• This line differs than Gibraltar’s “bruddahs” as his is a general that refers to everyone, similar to how “dude” is considered almost gender neutral

Octane

literally being forced to go on a date with a women for intel. Granted, it does sound like he accidentally got himself a date

much of the fandom HCs Octane as gay or bi/pan as well as trans, so a ‘straight’ date (quotations around straight because if he goes on a date with a woman doesn’t mean he’s not bi or pan you biphobes ) feels slightly forced and therefore heteronormative (the wearing pants line is a cheap shot a gender roles, though it was funny)

[dereksmcgrath]

Nosu Koshu’s return combines the Black Mercy from Superman with a Dragon Quest isekai plot that doesn’t really deliver much in the way of innovative gags and, in terms of plot, only perpetuates vague hints at larger schemes by Uneras. But maybe Ren’s sister Rin is going to get to be more relevant, so that’s good.

“Nosu Koshu of Illusions,” Magu-chan: God of Destruction, Chapter 56

By Kei Kamiki, translation by Christine Dashiell, lettering by Erika Terriquez

Available from Viz

Spoiler Warning for the Dragon Quest animated film.

Nosu Koshu, the dream god, is like the Black Mercy from Superman mythos. First appearing in the comic “For the Man Who Has Everything” by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, then adapted for Justice League Unlimited and Supergirl, it is an alien being that lets you dream of your most ardent desires–but usually with some catch, not just that, to remove the Mercy from yourself is to lose that perfect dream, but because even within that dream, like any utopia, there is always some dark side behind it. When Nosu Koshu popped up first in Magu-chan, she gave Ruru the dream of being reunited with her dead father, at the cost of being with Magu and living a healthier life of coping with loss and finding new opportunities despite that loss.

Nosu Koshu gave Magu-chan the best arc it has had up to this point–so bringing her back now for a parody of Dragon Quest and isekai storylines is tiresome. Hell, I hated that Dragon Quest animated film for its twist at the end regarding isekai stuff, so unfortunately that example tainted my appreciation for where this chapter was going.

I’m not being entirely fair to this chapter: there were details I liked. I admit some of those details were gags that I should have seen coming: Magu being reduced to a Dragon Quest Slime monster, or Uneras being shown as the final boss (which, as I’ll talk about in a moment, is potential foreshadowing to her being the Big Bad all along for this series). And I laugh heartedly when Ruru said they’ll just skip the maze level and thanks Muscar for the warning; as repetitive as their dynamic is, I do like the groove the series has set, Muscar struggling to be fearsome and intimidating and Ruru, not out of simpleness but kindheartedness, looking on the bright side and taking Muscar’s remarks as helpful rather than intimidating.

But isekai storylines have been done to death. “Magic technology goes out of wack” like Uneras putting Izuma to sleep, then having magic eyemasks to put the others into Izuma’s dream, are plot details I expect from some of the worst manga that repeatedly persist with that trope. If I want the mad scientist who keeps making magic-like objects that cause wacky hijinks, I’d get back to writing Mei Hatsume fanfiction, not sitting through G-rated To Love-Ru.

I’m trying to judge the series by its own previous examples: if you’re going to invoke a certain type of video game, even if it is an RPG, I am stuck comparing how this same series handled the fighting game tropes, offering a funny version of Smash Bros while also having more clever gags that invoke the invitation envelope from that franchise as well as even designing a bulkier headband-wearing Magu to look like Ryu from Street Fighter.

But even still, I think how another series would handle this kind of plotline about Dragon Quest-style RPGs and isekai plotlines–because I’ve seen Gintama do it, not only to parody the same content but to do the exact same plot, that being to get into someone’s body (more specifically for Magu-chan, someone’s mind) to help them through a health-related problem. And when there are so many isekai stories out there, it is ripe for parody–and there have been enough of such parodies in other series, or even isekai that are parodying their own genre and undermining their own narrative conventions.

The gags in this chapter also felt less impressive than those in previous chapters. The problem the series has had since depowering Muscar has been Uneras, and I hate saying that when she is, for better or worse, a character who resonates for manga and anime fans like us, someone portrayed as ostensibly a Western fan whose fixation on the tropes of Japanese comics and animation shows an outsider’s perspective that just gets details wrong and invokes cringe. Maybe it is naive for me to think this is all innocent: as a fan in the United States, who is going to misread cultural aspects of works that are created in cultural contexts outside of where I am, I really try to be aware and not make claims I cannot support.

So, maybe Uneras is a warning for people who think they are being reasonable and having good intentions but whose misreadings are doing actual harm. It’s not that difficult a way to measure her, given her other problematic behavior: her reaction in this chapter of thinking “hawt” upon seeing Izuma oppose her, after the series has already presented Uneras as a pseudo-maternal figure to Izuma, is all kinds of Oedipal squick that, no, ew, stop, please.

When you keep making Uneras’s behavior the instigation for the plot–creating the problems for the characters to solve–her role as the trouble-maker, as the troll, lacks the same complexities we saw earlier. When she first appeared, her antics inadvertently caused problems: if she had told Ruru that the cookies she ate would make her too powerful, then Ruru would not have accidentally blasted Izuma and Magu. In her subsequent appearances, she was carefully placed in alternative positions, sometimes purposefully trolling the characters, sometimes unintentionally causing problems that thankfully were harmless enough to be corrected by story’s end with minimal ramifications and no malice. Then she depowered Muscar, bringing the story back to square one in terms of giving him a potential redemption arc, and invoking colonialist imagery that shows her cultural ignorance is not necessarily amusing but dangerous.

If we don’t want to read something deeper behind Uneras’s behavior, within the plot of the manga itself, there is an easier understanding for why she is trolling people, tricking them, and now pulling such a dangerous Black Mercy god like Nosu Koshu into her ranks–and it’s been obvious since Uneras’s first introduction. When she premiered in unlucky Chapter 13, she made it clear that she is playing the humans and gods against each other, that she sided with the humans against her own kind to keep the gods in check. She is not the traditional notion of a hero, she is not a good-hearted cliche like Ruru: she is a puppetmaster, and that opens up more potential for what to do with her in this manga, and I tense up either because she will emerge as an antagonist in this story or because I am now attached to this idea and will feel disappointed if my prediction does not pan out that way (which, seeing as I am wanting to see every tiny cute creature as a potential villain–e.g., Nezu in My Hero Academia–may be my problem and not that of the stories’: “When you’re a hammer, and everything looks like a nail…”).

That leaves us with what the story does with Nosu Koshu. Since her introduction, she has been a passive character, fitting for a god whose ability puts people to sleep in the dream that best serves the reality they want to enter. That power gave Magu-chan the kind of storyline even the goofiest gag manga needs, one that showed how Ruru has mourned her father’s death and gave joke characters like Naputaaku a chance to rise to the occasion. But now that Nosu Koshu’s threat has been diminished, the manga is trying to figure out where to position her–and the conclusion they reach is to give Ren another god to look after. I had enjoyed how Magu-chan added more gods but made sure to give those gods their own human Pokemon trainer, so introducing Nosu Koshu but not giving her her own unique human is retreading whatever characterization we could get from Ren without developing a currently present human or a new human character we could add. It’s like when Transformers Prime introduced Smokescreen and gave him Jack as his human partner: Jack already has Arcee, and that choice diminished opportunities to give Arcee the spotlight, as her storyline faded more and more into the background while Smokescreen’s role got larger and larger. Diminishing the only woman-coded Autobot to the background didn’t help either.

But speaking of sidelining women characters, if we are going to have Nosu Koshu at the Fujisawa restaurant–and, as they do have a beach stand, it does make sense to apply this god’s talents there after Mother Fujisawa exhausted herself in an earlier chapter–pair Nosu Koshu with Ren’s sister Rin. While I have enjoyed Rin’s dynamic with Naputaaku, he is already Ren’s god partner, and Rin’s schtick has been rather stale: in the beach stand chapter, we did learn she desires to rise to the occasion to run the family business, belying her slacker demeanor. But if we’re going to move beyond the tiresome slacker schtick, having her be the partner to a literal sleepyhead like Nosu Koshu makes sense and could help both characters, contrasting how Rin’s passivity differs from Nosu Koshu’s, and showing that Rin has actual dreams she is trying to reach in her own way while Nosu Koshu has been content to force other people to literally dream without having any goal of her own. Like I just said, I tend to write ideas that I hope a story will take, then I feel disappointed when they don’t go there, and that unfairly influences my reviews. But I hope I got this one right, because after the previous chapter and now this one, it feels like Magu-chan needs an emotionally impactful chapter to give more direction to where the gags should go.