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lustbile-archive · 4 years

Text

In The Cards

HaechanxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot

Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?

This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”

“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.

“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”

“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”

Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.

“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”

Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.

Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.

“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.

“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.

“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.

“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”

“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”

You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.

His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.

Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”

“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.

“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”

He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.

“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”

Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.

“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”

With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.

“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.

“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”

He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.

“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”

You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.

“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”

“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.

“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”

With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.

“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.

“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”

The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.

“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“And what was that Hyuck?”

“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.

“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”

“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”

“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.

“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”

“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.

You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.

He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”

“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”

“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.

“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”

“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.

There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”

He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.

Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.

You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.

“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”

“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”

He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.

You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.

Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.

He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.

The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.

He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.

His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.

You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.

One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.

You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.

His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.

You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.

“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.

“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.

“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct imagine #haechan imagines #kpop smut

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thesublemon · 4 years

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planning ≠ coherence

I talk a big game about liking coherence in art, and it’s probably clear that I have an apophenic tendency to enjoy textual interpretation. And this might lead people to think that I have a preference for carefully planned and plotted art, or that I look down on the messy and improvisational. But this is actually almost the opposite of the case. Not because I don’t really like coherence, but because artistic coherence is something more complicated than planning, and isn’t even necessarily possible to achieve with planning.

The thing about improvisation, is that at its best it’s about finding the choice that feels right. I listen to jazz more than any other kind of music, and one of the reasons I like it so much is the exhilaration of someone landing on a musical idea that simultaneously makes a song feel bigger and more complete. A solo isn’t fun if it’s just a bunch of disconnected ideas (similar to how whimsy isn’t fun if it doesn’t also “work”). It’s fun if it picks up on the things that the other players are doing, or ideas that showed up earlier in the song, and then makes them feel like they go together. Even if they “go together” in the sense of being coherently discordant, eg repeating ideas that don’t work multiple times. If beauty is fit, then the joy of improv is finding fit in unexpected places.

This goes for narrative too. In long-running stories like comics, book series, and TV shows, much is often made about whether certain choices were planned from the beginning. If things were planned, that’s a reason for praise, and if things weren’t planned, that’s a reason for derision, either towards the showrunners or towards people attempting to interpret the work. Say, “This plot point only happened because an actor wanted to leave the show. Therefore it has no meaning to read into.” But making things up as one goes is not what makes a story lose its plot, so to speak. Making things up is only a problem if the things the artist makes up don’t go with what came before.

In Impro, a very excellent book about the craft of improvisation, Keith Johnstone calls this process of making-things-go-with-what-came-before “re-incorporation”:

The improviser has to be like a man walking backwards. He sees where he has been, but he pays no attention to the future. His story can take him anywhere, but he must still ‘balance’ it, and give it shape, by remembering incidents that have been shelved and reincorporating them.

Johnstone is big on the idea that satisfying narrative depends on a sense of structure, and that reincorporation is one of the most important tactics for creating structure. To paraphrase him, a story where a character runs away from a bear, swims across lake, and finds a woman in a cabin on the other side, and “makes passionate love” to her has no structure. It’s just a series of events. Whereas if the bear then knocks the cabin’s door down and the woman cries out that it’s her lover, then suddenly it feels like a story. Because not only has the bear been reincorporated, it has been linked to the woman. From this perspective, if a story has no sense of reincorporation, or new developments don’t make sense with what came before, then it will feel incoherent, no matter how planned out it was.

I also keep thinking about Paul Bouissac’s discussion of gags and narrative in The Semiotics of Clowns and Clowning. He explains that what makes a scene funny is not whether it strings a bunch of gags together, but how those gags are organized. To use an example from the book, it’s one thing for a clown to pretend to hurt its thumb, and ask for an audience member to kiss it. It’s another thing for it to keep hurting different parts and then finally hurt its groin and act scandalized at the idea that someone might kiss it. Bouissac calls this sort of repetition “anaphor”:

Anaphor is one of the main tools of textual consistency. In linguistics, it designates the use of pronouns or any other indexical units to refer back to another word or phrase in the text. It links together parts of sentences and bridges the grammatical gaps between clauses, which is a consequence of the linearity of language. In rhetoric, anaphors are repetitions of words or structures that build up the cohesion of discourse and create momentum toward a climax. In multimodal communication, words, gestures, objects, or musical tunes can play the same role by reminding the receiver—that is, the spectator in the case of a performance—of signs and events produced earlier in the act.

One of the things that fascinated me about Farscape as a teenager, was that in contrast to other scifi of the time, it made no pretenses of having been planned—unlike say, Babylon 5. Or even shows like The X-Files, Lost, or Battlestar Galactica that gave you the “feeling” of a plan whether or not they had one, or were capable of following through. Farscape felt incredibly coherent, both in terms of theme and plot, but this coherence came about purely on the strength of the writing’s ability to ideate and then reincorporate. It would take someone’s weird costume idea, like the villain having glowing rods that screw inside his head, and snowball that into a whole storyline where the villain is a half breed of one hot-blooded race and one cold-blooded race, and can only stay alive by thermo-regulating the inside of his brain. And then decide that his vendetta against the hot-blooded race has motivated his obsession with the protagonist since the first season. Yet these twists never feel like “ret-conning” in a pejorative sense, because it all feels narratively and thematically sensible. (Unsurprisingly, making the show was described as “more like improv jazz than plotting out a symphony”).

None of which is to say that I dislike planning or polish, either. Stephen King, as a so-called “discovery” writer, famously writes off the cuff, without outlines. As he puts it in On Writing:

You may wonder where plot is in all this. The answer—my answer, anyway—is nowhere. I won’t try to convince you that I’ve never plotted any more than I’d try to convince you that I’ve never told a lie, but I do both as infrequently as possible. I distrust plot for two reasons: first, because our lives are largely plotless, even when you add in all our reasonable precautions and careful planning; and second, because I believe plotting and the spontaneity of real creation aren’t compatible. It’s best that I be as clear about this as I can—I want you to understand that my basic belief about the making of stories is that they pretty much make themselves. The job of the writer is to give them a place to grow (and to transcribe them, of course).

But his best stories feel like whatever bloat might have been generated from this narrative improvisation has then been pared down to what that improvisation was really getting at. And I can’t lie, I get a particular joy from reading or watching something and feeling without a doubt that the artist is in complete control of my experience. It was one of the most gratifying aspects of rewatching The Wire recently: the feeling that the little meanings and foreshadowings I was seeing in each choice were almost certainly intended. Nothing is more satisfying to an apopheniac than feeling like the patterns you see are actually real. And nothing is more annoying than a story that tries to pull some sort of reveal on you (“Dan is gossip girl!” “Angel is Twilight!” “Rey is a Palpatine!”) that doesn’t make any sense because it wasn’t intended from the beginning. Just because those characters existed in the story before, doesn’t make it good reincorporation. So if a story is a story because of structure, then if the choice is between a planned structure and no structure, the former is almost certainly going to be better.

Point is, it’s not really the process that matters. All creativity is improvisational in a sense, because all creativity involves making things up. What matters is how dedicated an artist is to the integrity of their work. If a writer has carefully planned their whole story out, with every twist and every theme clearly in mind, but can’t adapt if they start writing and find out that something they planned doesn’t actually work, that’s one kind of failure mode. The narrative equivalent of designing a perfect castle and then building it on a swamp. On the other hand, if a writer tries to go with the flow, but can’t reincorporate that flow, then that will be another failure mode. To the extent that I respond to improvisational art, it’s because improvisational art is often more attuned to these questions of whether something is moment-to-moment right. But what matters, above all, is the rightness. That’s what defines coherence. Whether there is a sense in the work that it is oriented around something, and whether the choices contribute to that something.

#posts: art #i could've also connected a pattern language to this #and the post about how it's the solution to high modernism #but hopefully the castle-on-a-swamp analogy will encompass that #the philosophy of 'here are things that generally work but also any solutions must be adapted their environment'

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mooifyourecows · 4 years

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hey moo! u r actually my go to person to hate on jkr- so i personally would rather see her on a missing person poster than a live action harry potter show poster but! what are your thoughts on the live action harry potter show coming out!

*siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*

Every new Harry Potter thing is putting more money in JKR's pocket. Which sucks. The only thing she deserves in her pocket is an angry hornet nest.

And ill be real honest with you.

I don't really care about Harry Potter that much. I read a couple of the books and I watched all the movies. I lived through the hype of the movies coming out one by one and I enjoyed running off to the theater to see them but I don't have any deep feelings for it outside of my absolute adoration of Daniel Radcliffe. But who needs to support Dan Radcliffe through Harry P when Swiss Army Man and Guns Akimbo exist???????????

Honestly I just don't think its THAT good. And my hatred for JKR and all the realizations of how she incorporated her prejudices into the books have made me care for it even less. And the spin off or prequel or whatever? Literally do not care and did not even know it existed until Johnny Depp was getting fired off of it. A bad move if anybody wanted me to ever consider thinking about it a second time.

I also have this problem where once something overstays its welcome, I just get annoyed. Like... why are they still making Star Wars movies? Why are there more Dragon Ball episodes???? Why the fuck is WandaVision a thing and can I spit on whoever is still beating these ultra dead horses?

Please let things end. PLEASE let things end.

I would much rather see writers and studios putting their energy into making something NEW than see these looooong and drawn out continuations of things that haVE ENDED PLEASE GOD JUST LET SOMETHING END AND STAY ENDED PLEASE.

I think that constantly rebooting and continuing things is lazy. Not to say that the stories themselves aren't good. Hell, they might be. I dunno. I never waste time watching/reading them. But I think its relying too heavily on the name and the already existing fans.

And UHM thats FANFICTION'S JOB.

This shit is just fanfiction at this point. But its taken more seriously than fanfiction. People are literally buying the rights to sell their hyped up fanfic to millions of people and those people just believe its new, original content and not ewie stupid grosso fanfiction but ITS FANFICTION!

And you know me. I LOVE fanfiction. Obviously. I am not throwing shade at the fact that its fanfiction. I'm throwing shade at the fact that its so dishonest and money grubbing. I'm angry that people that don't read fanfic and think that its bad all use 50 Shades of Grey and After as representations of fanfic in order to mock it and consider it NOT GOOD writing but then go rabid over getting Mandalorian episodes like BRO thats fanfic. I dont care how attached to the original or approved by George Lucas it is.

Its fanfic dressed up as "REAL" writing and it just further reinforces people's bad attitudes about the fanfic we over here producing.

And its all about money. Money money money. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have an entire room filled with gold coins that I can swim around in like Scrooge McDuck, but these people already have that from the original work they did. JKR already had a stupid amount of money before the movies came out and George Lucas already had a stupid amount of money before the prequels were released.

And yet they keep going. They're never satisfied. And its not just them. Their studios and managers and producers just keep greasing up their assholes for more and more and more and good god.

They are willing to bastardize a good thing for the sake of money and its so sad.

Its so sad that Nickelodeon is ignoring a dead man's wishes and making a spin-off of SpongeBob that looks like literal garbage and lacks every bit of whimsy and fun of Stephen Hillenburg's original vision.

Its depressing. And the only reason for it is more money.

NOW. I know I kinda went off there but... ya know me. Can't keep my opinions to myself 😋

So theres gonna be a new Harry P show on HBO Max.

HBO Max.

I mean... if you watch it, be prepared for some sexual content or graphic violence. That's the next step in the bastardization process, I presume. Making it "gritty" so adults will swarm to it.

I dunno. Overall, I'm uninterested

Sorry if my answer is real cynical, Babe lmao but I just have OPINIONS about this type of thing. As a creator, the thought of something that I poured my love and passion into being drawn out and used as a money making monster for a bunch of chumps (probably white men) just really makes me uncomfortable

But ayyy that'll never happen so we good 👍

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misterbitches · 3 years

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i had the misfortune of finally watching/getting through what happened in whatever episode where he gets raped so im gonna talk about it and tag it cos that's what a bitch fuckin feels like, got it? i do what i want aint no limit bad ass bitch aint never been timid. woopsie realized i got the nicknames confused oh well lmao

it's just logistically and plot wise like there's literal plot holes in this and i'm taking the production and set-up into account along with the actual content and development. im an ARTIST OKAY im jk i mean i am and i am pretentious and terrible but look. i didnt get that degree and im not in a house worth of debt for nothing ok. it's called writing on tumblr about my grievances of shows that dont matter and do not respect me as a fat black american woman either so it is my fault yet here i am.

anyway it was worse than i imagined and their talk after (with chengren) was even worse. that's what i mean about making the lines their own (the actors) bc teng teng sounded like a straight up motherfucking moron and im like

bECAUSE IT'S HIM EVEN THO IM LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DID U JUST SAY U STUPID BITCH? but then it's like awwww and they also care about his wellbeing obviously??? but no? but it's like ok still teng teng said it even if it's stupid because he is a character and charles puts that forth. the people that fail the most to do that are xing si's family but that's not the actors fault because it's the literal material. you're like wait what but you just said...?

so i know they have no script editors i guess i think i find this season ACTUALLY fascinating because of just how egregious it is. i also went back and watched history: obsessed which i thought i liked because of their chemistry even though god the production....but i tried rewatching it and i was like wow this is worse than i remembered and the production issues were even worse because some of the music was SO LOUD AND BAD HOLY FUCK and their whole rship isssssss a sight to behold lmao

so man i guess it really is the power of anson/charles. which is good cos we love to see it...sort of but also a lot.

i honestly....because i've been able to pay attn more to the aftermath of the rape going back and putting it into more context and focusing (just barely lmao) is hm even worse. the inconsistencies are insane. it's not even just about the act but the writers have zero idea where they are going because they have no interest in exploring it. but the way in which it happens is like fascinating. yong jie literally thinks he owns xing si and it doesn't matter if he was kissing him or not or asked for a kiss on the lips (which dude what the fuck? i'll get to that) because he was plied with "extremely strong drinks" and his mom knew about it....which girl congrats you're an accomplice to the rape of your son by your other son?

but first of all...the kissing thing. in what fucking world would he (xing si) want that unless he thought he (yong jie) was someone else. i can't say their attraction is evident because we are being lead by this team to think so; they create this false sense of sensuality already so to me that signifies that they never intended for them to have a bond as brothers. it just feels cheap and fucking lazy (which it is.) even if he did, which doesn't make sense considering the context THEY CONSTRUCTED, it wouldn't matter because he was so fucking drunk which.... at that point nothing is fun, you feel sick, who wants sex like that? does he not have whiskey dick? did they have a condom? was it not painful for him considering? even if this was something to easily get over like was the dick good? it couldn't have been. and then, on top of that, there's the fact that you can change your mind or whatever but also that people do get aroused in these situations bc it is human nature (that's if they can literally get aroused which if the drinks were allegedly sooooo strong that nigga would be out so....again like even practically here it doesnt add up. have these people ever been drunk? if not, write what you know girl. cos sometimes it's like i think some of u r trying to be cool when u dont have 2 b lmao)

so yong jie coming on to him previously may be seen as like push-and-pull but here's the thing. right after it happens (the rape and it's rape so call it that you'll be okay) xing si gets up and goes home and is terrified and upset. he acts like what we have seen or even felt after a violation. he's scared, clutching his bag, it's like...you know...decently coming off as truly distressing (the actor isn't bad at all and i like that he's dark. i just massively hate this for him but hey at least he can show some chops.) like honestly man that fucking sucks and hurts to see. if we've been there we feel it. or part of it is realizing belatedly what happened. a lot of times that drop in your stomach is the worst.

but somehow for some reason, to which i cannot understand, the three of them begin to talk as if xing si pressured him? which maybe i missed something and that is possible—dont feel like going back to look—but that also made no sense. like what kind of false memory is this? why would he think he wasn't willing? and if he thought yong jie wasn't and that he pressured him how does he remember like...anything about the sex?!?!??!? besides waking up and being with him. like i guess he felt yong jie's MASSIVE DONG imprint but ??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!!!!

god then the logic of the top/bottom thing is like i said i wasnt going to get into it but it's actually really funny. this whole thing was hilarious. honestly because I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS. he could have totally raped him in that way but how did you get to this CONCLUSION FROM THAT??????? BY YOUR LOGIC THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS? IF HE IS THE BOTTOM AND PENETRATION IS THE ONLY FORM OF TRUE CONSUMMATION AND RAPE BECAUSE APPARENTLY, BASED ON ANATOMY, IF YOU HAVE A DICK IN UR BUTT UR A GIRL THEN HOW. DOES. THIS. MAKE. SENSE. AND THEN

AND THEN

this whole stupid conversation happens so we get to the conclusion that xing si violated him ok cool but that means that something is wrong. that is the CONCLUSION WE CAME TO A SECOND AGO?

also the other rapist is a villain and muren isn't in love with him so, once again, you're breaking the rules of your own world about acceptability which is why most of this is absolutely mind bogggglinG that iit's fuckign comical. like i actually when i can stomach it start laughing or my jaw is slack because it's so insulting as a viewer because there is like 0 logical followthrough.

because whatshisface barges in, kisses him in front of his friends without permission, then says whether you were willing or not which is hm. at that point how u gonna change that around but let's not bother with logic here. i am simply here to point out how this makes no sense according to the rules they set up even outside of the basic rule of life which is hm dont rape people maybe.

so now we know xing si was raped, they believe he was raped, he himself believes he was raped, and whatshisface literally says he doesn't care even if he was willing (he wasn't) so he admits to rape. i don't believe in the police and i hate them (BL industry needs the cops but dont get me down that road) but no one...thought to go?

because according to history 4 logic nothing matters so im sure if he went to the police you could handwave the homophobia since there's no actual context for anything besides their whimsy. but they dont want to do that because they aren't interested in an arc of growth; redemption isn't possible unless he is removed from the family but again no work on thinking this through or thinking about the victim's feelings. because gay sex? who fucking knows. supposedly progressive taiwanese writers of gay shit (like how supposedly progressive the world is. as in it is not and this behavior is the norm and bl perpetuates that) can't think of transformative justice?

and then they gave bad advice so we wont acknowledge that because teng teng doing anything wrong/stupid is frequent but hurts me and also that storyline is not real so i pretend they are not there outside of this post

so all of this is just straihgt up clownery now because it's fucking absurd like logically, practically, human-wise. the kissing thing is inconsequential but it was such a lazy cheap way out lmao cos they really wanted it to seem consensual but that's not how it works. on top of that their attraction makes no sense because whatshisface is just there. he is just there. he's nothing and no one so the sentiments are even more empty and on top of that he doesnt listen to a single request fucking obviously because the basis of their relationship is fucking rape so fucking listening and respecting his partner is not on his list of fucking priorities. he's literally so fucking annoying even without being a rapist it's like someone please beat his ass.

and then after all of that you want us to feel bad? with your horrible writing, poorly misplaced music, stupid costumes (those fucking SHOES THEY ARE HIDEOUS, AND MOST OF THIER CLOTHES DO NOT FIT IT'S LIKE WHY), questionable fucking editing. we're supposed to wnat them together? this sounds literally fucking crazy but bear with me lmao even with the rape they could at least have SOMETHING i mean like i cant believe im fucking saaying this. but like in addicted heroin which is fuckin tragic and awful at least there's a MODICUM of interest but honestly that show s a fucknig drag. idk they lookd good together? here we have 0. nothing. and it doesnt motivate. watching obsessed again i can see why i liked it in the beginning bc they have good chemistry but the acting and production adn like everything about it plus the rape-y vibes it's just too much. you need to pick one thing so if you're going to be a shit writer at least supplement it with something. this thing is nothing.

and even more nonsensical and what boggles my mind frankly out of all this is the mother's involvement and the father's final response. there are NO consequences? theyre all happy?

ok so lets go through this:

1. 2 boys grow up 2gether, one of the boys is fucking psycho, the mother knows but does nothing??????????????

2. one of the sons moves out so his father doesn't get a hint that's he's fucking gay. ok fine. he has 2 best friends, a job, an apt. he is fine.

3. aforementioned brother is obsessed with him for SOME REASON besides being crazy?

3.5 no one has done anything during him growing up to help him not be crazy?

4. mom says to husband who is their father also just in case we forget "im afraid he will lose his humanity"

4.5 again, do nothing. 0. just like oh man hes crazy. guess that's just our son ;)

4. who cares. plies him with alcohol purposefully to rape him. not even dubious (even though dubious is fucked and not okay or is just not. fucking real. these shows are contextless when they want to be or even movies or whatever so it's like largely not up to the task to understand complexity in human rships and then oversimplifies it constantly because that's what we do IRL. but people have fucking feelings you know and we realize when things don't feel good or right to us either very quickly after or having to process it. and once you're eyes are opened you may feel as something was fucking ripped away from you. for the modc couple this would be a very logical conclusion for the high schooler the thirty year old dated but again logic or feelings are up to their whimsy. no one cares bc everything can be counted as dubious so honestly it's a fucking stupid fucking topic like again why are we litigating what is and isnt consent when you could just like idk. read cues? consent? wait? not be a freak? like we all know what is proper human shit so even if we are watching this uncritically which u cant bc it's glaring and stupid it's just even more dumb) so it was honestly a rape plot like he literally planned it soooooooooo??!?!

5. aftermath of rape the victim is like literally fucking bereft and confused. and a rape victim. like that's what they are insinuating and what also he is to be clear.

6. boy tells him "idc if i raped u i luv u lmao"

7. mom ENCOURAGED THE BOY to get him drunk because her other son was too nice? she encouraged her adult son to rape her adult step-son (but her real son because she repeatedly says you are my son and the dad does too THEY GREW UP TOGETHER WHEN THE KID WAS IN AN IMPRESSIONABLE STATE) so THIS ALSO MAKES EVEN LESS MOTHERFUCKING SENSE

8. everyone finds out about his rape and he isnt mortified he's just concerned about himself being gay to his dad?????? except it's not really about his gayness bc now it's about his sudden love for his rapist brother? which? hm ok. understandable the dad is like wow i do not think i like this

9. dad knows all of it is fucked up, everyone does, knows the mother fucked up, knows he fucked up. doesnt like it because he is normal. so we know this is terrible? ok great so—

10. father says "i can't accept this...but i'm willing to give you my blessing" ok see here's the thing. when you write you have to think about the things you are putting on the page and what you have written previously. this quite literally made no sense how the fuck are you going to not accept them but give them your blessing? does this crew know what the fuck words are? i'm assuming they went to some sort of school to obtain jobs here bc there cannot be natural talent or experience. maybe most of them are rich. fuck i do not know but this also makes no sense. just the literal logic of it it's like fucking insane the whiplash.

10.5 apparently this father is also shitty. everyone here sucks and they are basically begging me to think xing si is a fucking idiot so i dont even want to look at him if he is an object he doesnt matter so now i want to kick him. thanks a lot you made the victim get absolutely fucking nothing

they KEEP PUSHING the brother thing it is so insane and it's liek GUYS WE GET IT WE UNDERSTAND THEYRE "RELATED" BUT NOT RELATED SO IT'S OK HE WAS "RAPED" BUT NOT RAPED but you're GOING BACK ON YOUR OWN RULES!!!!!!!!!! WE GET THAT THEY ARE BROTHERS!!! WE'RE OVER IT NOW BUT WHAT IS THIS WHEN WE ALREADY ESTABLISHED SOMETHING? I AM CONFUSION? they flip flop between my son, my brother my actual brother, and cannot fucking distinguish between love for your father and love for your romantic partner? so to me what i see is that the father wants to fuck the son. that's the conclusion i am garnering now considering nothing matters and his love for his "brother" is the same as his love for his dad lmao. they couldnt even do that in a way that made sense. like damn anybody can get anything. these ppl who are doing this have to be fucking rich and/or have connections.

also this guy sounds literally like a textbook abuser like he says constantly "im the best choice" is a rapist is awful holds capital (oh hees "saving" smh ur trapping her!!!!! RETIRE!!!!) also wears terrible shoes so i am like ur alllllllllLLLLL FUCKING CRAZY ur all literally crazy and then they are trying to set rules and boundaries in their fucking house like WHY ARE THEY LIVING TOGETHER EVEN? even tho oh my god they know he raped him and for some reason they are both allowing to live in the house but they dont want them to have sex??!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! i get that this is their house but this is like at this point these ppl are writing anything and now whatshisface is acting like a 2 yr old again and we are supposed to find this cute? like it makes 0 sense why do u fucking care u literally encouraged ur son to rape him so they cant have consensual sex under your nose now and have to wait four years? this is coming from the son who couldnt wait until someone was sober enough to realize hes fucking psychotic and should be killed also the fact that they act like being 20 means u have no fucking brain like this kid is in med school supposedly how do we know like hes a liar and an idiot so. also wait do they mean undergrad? how are you in med school at 20? is he a genius? girl i dont care lmao i guess i missed that but it's not like it matters so whatever

even if we ignore the stupidity of the literal acts, the grossness of the content, the absolute inability to write coherently or even remotely in a way where we would even want to see them together which is like....u set it up at the beginning so he punches "the love his life's best friend" also holy fuck im sorry remember when he punches muren because xing si got too drunk. so i'm guessing whatshisface is that good of a bartender that he makes super strong drinks and gets xing si drunk but his alcohol is magical therefore it doesn't make him sick. his alcohol is the type that gets you drunk but somehow doesnt get to your liver even though that's how we get drunk but dont ask guys he's only in med school and a bartender so i think he knows best (seriously have the main writers had a day of fun in their lives? have they ever been drunk? are they toddlers? drunk babies could probably do better tho.) i get that he was also jealous but if this kid is SOOOOOO genius (he understands social cues lmao he has the cpacity to project onto his victim so im like miss me with the not understanding shit. go to a fucking therapist like seriously did no one care abt this kid? his mother thinks he's like almost a goddamn murderer. how is she not dead? how are they all not dead? how do any of them know how to drive with this type of brain?) then he would understand that they are very clearly friends since he watched them part in a very platonic way and since he apparently knows what love is cos he thinks....he can....make someone fall in love with him bc he loves them? again, i wouldnt know hes 20 and taiwanese and im 29 and black from AMERICA so im WESTERN* so you know. different life experiences i guess XD

even if we do mental gymnastics to get it to a place where they "had sex" and he didnt rape him there's 0 ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ties to the literal story they wrote and the rules they set up. i'm going ot assume they dont know wtf theyre doing and i know for a fact we all care more about their dumb show than they do but it's actually startling how piss poor this is it's like idek what to compare it to. the continuity is awful awful awful they needed a script supervisor majorly and they are making bank and are going to make fucking bank fof this shit. and itll just continue like that until IRL material changes and that's facilitated by these very same groups they choose to profit off of and exploit by propelling it into the mainstream and litigating homosexuality through capitalism. and i'm being specific with homosexuality. i dont want a GL market like at all and i know why we wouldnt have it either and that has everything to do with the nature of BL, capitalism, coercion, and the fanbase being young girls and women. i don't think in this day and age we can safely say all the fans are straight; i'm sure a majority but many women or people on the gender spectrum and sexuality spectrum also consume it. frankly, it's possible the women who write it could be or something too. i dont rly believe any1 is str8 lmao but im just saying it's not out of the realm of possibility. but it isnt about that at all. that's why we wont see "good" female characters (like well written) often that's why we won't see trans women or kathoeys or fat people or black asians in it. a lot of it is is a choice we participate in whatever. but holy fuck dude u could at least respect the audience's fucking intelligence. i'm talking about everything i think that is encapsulated in the project but it's even more jarring and worse because it's so insanely inconsistent and poorly done. like how we jump from one conclusion to another is wild to me. even their first "night together" and he wakes up im like girl....u no ur ass felt it. this nigga broke into his house and was like "im gonna have u" like it's getting weird

just make xing si suffer offscreen not us the stupidity is staggering, mind blowing, hilarious.

how wong kar wai, a straight man from HK (or at least married to a woman), or barry jenkins, a striahgt black man, write/do stories well about people they wouldnt knw about their experiences directly is....well thinking like using their brains and like knowing all types of people? the man who co-wrote moonlight is a hOMOSEXUAL, leslie cheung was fucking gay or queer (and he committed suicide and that's important also RIP homie) both are hailed as queer cinema like WKW wanted to do something else and invested time into it, changed the way he played around with structure, moved away from his crime oriented stuff. he THOUGHT about it and this film is about their reality. it's a harsh film, idk how i feel about it (but my fav movies of his are the crime ones or the messy ones where it's clear he didnt write a script lmao fallen angels is one of my fav movies its' abt assassins kinda) but i know it means something. and he didnt like what HK had previously wasnt enough. it is not the only cinema that should be shown since it's such a stark reality and depressing but it is a real depiction so we can have all sorts of stuff. no this isnt WKW level or moonlight level but i know for a fact these people think they are doing something because artists always do i say this as one and someone who is equally as useless. you're making a statement.

i also hate the westerner component of peoples analyses. first of all dont do cultural relativism. we can critique and respect. but second of all how are we going to keep saying "dont put western ideals on this" when that is what is happening anyway because that's part and parcel for soft power and capitalism. how about taiwan's history with the KMT? what about the regimes young people fought about? aided by US imperialism which permeates through society and affects material conditions, views, democracy, identity and that goes into culture and media. hm? what about that? is that reality too fucking western for people? that we are doing the same thing again now? is that okay to talk about or is that only on your time?

then there's the argument that this is just entertainment. yea no shit but the thing is if we r gonna talk about marginalized groups and watch bc of marginalized groups and then be expected to identify then i dont see why i cant put this in context. even if it wasnt fucking serious we'd still judge it. but it's so pompous and again like i wouldnt say EYE think it's art but it is "art" in the literal sense and no self respecting artist would ever go "man this means nothing." of course im not sure if they do respect themselves so hey but u cant just go oh man it's entertainment when it literally rests on the fact that HOMOS are MARGINALIZED. it literally rests on the fact that WOMEN ARE OBJECTS. you either want progress or you dont. i dont understand being so demanding but not beign specific in the demands and not trying to use your brain. if you dont want to use your brain don't. but if you are looking , engaging, and keep making these arguments or telling ppl it doesnt matter whilst complaining about how much others care is hypocritical at best, willfully obtuse at worst. both bad. :)

(also all this + another thing; it is insulting to have this like wedding happen based off of this stupid relationship when people fought so hard and had to push it. now they can use the material conditions to their advantage but it's so ridiculous. also because there is difficulty still in getting married in taiwan i'm honestly like....the boldness of the writers...)

#history 4 #history 4: close to you #*dont call me western ever #a thot

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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So just out of curiosity, what inspired the whole Beacon Bay idea? What kind of sharks and dolphins are they? This entire thing is very intriguing to me and I can't wait to see more.

So first off, anyone who’s ever played soundingboard to my original stuff like Moukie or Adam can attest to the fact that I’m ocean obsessed, so there’s pretty much nothing I’m interested in that isn’t a mere two or three steps removed from an ocean/merfolk/sea witch AU in my head. Gimme anything and like, five minutes, and I can make it ocean themed. Space operas included. I grew up near the ocean, been surfing for ages though of course I haven’t in years, blah, but like. I’m a big fan of the deep blue sea. Its just....neat. ghaskfhalkfhla

So I’ve always had a bunch of ocean-set concepts. This particular AU came about from like, smashing a couple of them together to preserve them when my plans for doing original stuff with them fizzled out, at least for the time being. Cuz the other thing about me is the way some people like, take their fanfic and file off the serial numbers to turn it into original novels, I more often do the reverse, lmao. When I have something I can no longer do something with original-content-wise, for whatever reason, but I still like the idea, I turn it into fanfic so I can still play around with it whenever I want and like, have purpose to that, so I don’t feel like I’m wasting time by still ‘indulging’ in that concept or whatever.

Like my Batfandom fic By Lost Ways, as I’ve mentioned before....that actually started out as an original high fantasy novel set in my ‘Tales of the Citadel’ shared universe. BUT the setting ended up being similar enough to a sci-fi project I wanted I to move forward with, ‘Waveriders’ (the one with the sky pirates and the ATLA-style benders only instead of evoking the four classical elements, waveriders could each ‘hack’ a different kind of wavelength, that one) like....basically, the projects FELT similar enough in setting and various superficial elements that I started to feel derivative of myself moving forward with both, so I picked Waveriders and then recycled the setting and a lot of the plot of the sky-set fantasy novel for fanfic, just for fun.

Same thing here, though Beacon Bay is basically the mash-up of two different shelved original projects. Basically, its the plot of a CW-style show about teen sirens and the sea witch making like the Fagin to their Oliver Twists, from a pilot I wrote years ago.....it got some interest but I refused to make it less gay because lol have you met me, so it ultimately never went anywhere but I still liked the plot.

And then remember the werewolf books I mentioned awhile back, that had the mongoose shifters in them? LOL. Yeah, so I’d written two and a half novels in that series and had this whole expansive worldbuilding of twelve different shifter clans each with their own innate magic, patron deity/creator, etc, but all my agent and editor contacts at the time were like yeah sorry, shifters are over for now, and I was like wow, can’t believe cancel culture’s real and publishing cancelled werewolves, wtf, rude, and then I was like eh, still wanna play in this universe especially with the dolphins and shark shifters which I never even really got to in those books, so I’m just gonna air-lift them out of that and drop them smack in the middle of my CW siren plot and fanfic away to my heart’s content and call that ‘being productive’ when I feel like it.

Anyway, found family was a big theme of those books and the world-building I did there in general, because again, have you met me, I’m not predictable or anything (shhh, the word is consistent), and one of my initial things there was I wanted the various shifter types to all have innate magic, because for literally no real reason that I can discern other than Whimsy, I have always been Team Werewolf in vampires vs werewolves, and I was tired of werewolves always being by default the underdogs in those narratives. Even if that does make for a good pun.

SO, I wanted to come up with werewolf magic that felt natural and organic to werewolves, like nothing too flashy or obscure, but that would make them a legitimate threat even to other supernatural creatures. And I made it so each of the shifter types were granted an active and a passive magic by the god that created their type of shifter, and with werewolves, their active magic was that of the pack gestalt. I took the idea of ‘their whole is greater than the sum of their parts’ that TW kinda briefly touched on when presenting (but never really doing much with) the idea that the more wolves in a pack, the stronger that pack was.....and I decided okay what if being part of a pack upped stats all across the board AND all shifters have a SLIGHT innate resistance to magic, being innately magical beings themselves?

So a werewolf pack, with enough pack members, would thus not only be formidable in strength, speed, senses and speed of healing....but compound that innate shifter resistance to magic, which in a single shifter is negligible, like, just enough to make them slightly harder to track with magic or curse or whatever.....but in a whole werewolf pack, that adds up to make the pack effectively immune to foreign magic. Vampires can’t compel them, demons can’t possess them, witches can’t curse them, etc. So a lone werewolf, not part of a pack, is formidable, but nothing another supernatural being can’t take on. But a lone werewolf who IS part of a pack....different story entirely, because now most other supernatural beings, no matter what their USUAL strengths, are reduced to taking on that werewolf hand to hand, as their own supernatural gifts or spells or whatever, like, aren’t gonna do them any good against these particular foes. And werewolves are USED to fighting with just brute physical strength and attributes, which gives them the edge against opponents who are more used to being able to fall back on magic in battle.

But as much as I like sticking to a theme, I like to diversify that theme where possible, so when it came to the other shifter types, I wanted to similarly come up with ways where ‘the whole would be greater than the sum of their parts’ but in like, entirely different ways.

So with dolphin shifters, their ‘passive magic’ (in quotes cuz that’s not quite the right word for it but whatever) is that they’re all empaths, with their more active magic being weather manipulation. Their empathy is a two-way street....they project emotions as well as just feel other peoples’, which ties into the fact that their patron deity was Dionysus. Dolphin parties....legendary. But in an extremely wild, dangerous and Bacchanalian kinda way. In terms of Beacon Bay specifically, this is a bit of a problem for the BB dolphins, as the closest thing they had to an official Triton (the dolphin shifter version of an Alpha) was Peter, but they were like nope, not loving this guy, and kinda drove him out of town in the AU S1 backstory of this ‘verse, which means Scott and the others are kinda just making it up as they go along, and don’t really know the ins and outs of BEING dolphin shifters. (Derek is....elsewhere, in this. Mostly).

So bottom line is they have reputations around school for being loud obnoxious goofs and trouble-makers, constantly playing hooky and such, but its because they don’t really know HOW to safeguard against spilling their emotions onto everyone around them so they try and err on the side of being the life of the party whenever possible, as that’s better than the alternatives in their opinion. And when they’re just having bad days and bumming hard, the whole pod will just skip school and glomp around the bumming pod member whilst self-caring, rather than like, accidentally bum out the entire school.

But their weather manipulation magic is where the gestalt idea comes into play with them, as I love weather manipulating powers, but I didn’t want to make them all Ororo Munroe, y’know? Only Ororo Munroe can be Ororo Munroe. Don’t make me scoff. I’ll do it. I’ll scoff so hard. SO I went with the idea of weather control married to manipulating storms via song and was like, okay what if a dolphin pod is like, a symphony of shifters.

Basically, its like each individual dolphin shifter is a single voice in a chorus, and there’s magical equivalents of being a baritone, an alto, etc. Like, none of them can whip up a storm on their own. Its more that each of them can summon or conjure a PIECE of a storm with their song, with it being different for each of them....symptomatic of their magic as an expression of them as an individual. So for instance, Scott’s song is ‘tuned’ to lightning. He can call down a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.....but he can’t summon so much as a drop of rain to save his life. Literally. Its an actual plot point at one point. Whereas Isaac’s song is all about calling down rain, Boyd’s is more of an arctic wind, and Erica’s kinda summons a pressure front that in harmony with the two of theirs can whip up a mean waterspout. And then Corey’s all about conjuring fog banks with low visibility while Liam can whistle up a strong, gale-force wind but sucks at using his song as a precision instrument. Etc, etc. But the real magic is when they all use their voices and magic in concert....as a group, they can summon huge magical thunderstorms.

Also, one thing I love about using different kinds of shifters is the opportunity to explore enhanced supernatural senses that aren’t just keen sight, smell or hearing. So the dolphin shifters aren’t like wolf shifters in being able to detect chemosignals or anything like that....in fact, their sense of smell isn’t much different from anyone else’s. But they do have an ability to use what’s effectively supernatural echolocation even above water, and their sight is adapted for optimal viewing underwater, making them particularly good at seeing in the darkness even on land.

(Also, related but somewhat tangential to both the shifter senses and dolphin ‘voices’....all dolphin shifters have a strong talent for mimicry, but this isn’t technically a form of magic, more just a combination of their control over their voice and their keen senses of pitch, etc).

The shark shifters, on the other hand, have some of the keenest senses of all shifters. Not only is their sense of smell even better than a werewolf’s, they’re sensitive to changes in pressure, for one thing. Which means on land, they can even feel changes in atmospheric pressure.....so like, the shark shifters of Beacon Bay could be in math class and then ‘feel’ a sudden drop in air pressure and thus even before some strange weather phenomenon occurs, they’re groaning like ugh fucking A, what the hell did the damn dolphins do now.

Also, their magnetic field perception is such that they can kinda ‘sense’ when people are around, just by being aware of the approaching magnetic field of another living being.

And then with the sharks, I was looking for ways to lean into the associations we have with sharks and blood, but subvert them to be less macabre and more communal. And another big theme of mine in general is like, I am DETERMINED to go to my grave shouting at the top of my lungs “Its THE BLOOD OF THE COVENANT IS THICKER THAN THE WATER OF THE WOMB, NOT BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER, HOW DID PEOPLE GET THAT SO BACKWARDS ITS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF HOW ITS USUALLY STATED!”

Like, that’s just...HUGE pet peeve of mine. Its like nails on a chalkboard, lmfao, that drives me nuts. That phrase is usually cited by people using it to express like, the idea that there’s no greater force than family, specifically BIOLOGICAL, ‘blood’ relations, but its literally meant to be the exact opposite, that the blood of CHOSEN bonds, of covenants, of vows or promises, is a greater force than the water of the womb, ie being born of the same womb, as in biological siblings. The entire point of the phrase is biology ain’t shit, family is what we choose. And somehow it got turned ENTIRELY around.

(Note: Okay, so for the record, its not ‘somehow’, there’s actually a very clear reason for why that particular interpretation gained so much momentum, and that’s because for a long time it was conflated with an old German proverb from like a thousand years ago that basically translates to “kin-blood is not spoiled by water.” Which basically was meant to mean that nothing can ‘dilute’ blood relations, not time, not distance, not water. So that phrase DOES correspond to the idea that ‘blood is thicker than water.’ Problem is, there isn’t a direct trace from that particular proverb TO most USAGES of ‘blood is thicker than water,’ which when you throw in the OTHER phrase, which in its entirety is “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” what you end up with is a lot of people SAYING that one when they actually MEAN to say ‘kin-blood is not spoiled by water’ and that’s where the meanings get switched. But I fucking digress. Per usual).

Anyway. So combine that particular pet peeve with my found family fixation AND the fact that this is about magic and magic means I can do whatever the hell I want, fuck your biological connections mwahahaha.....I decided to base shark magic on the idea of the blood-ties of family....but CHOSEN blood-ties, as in blood of the covenant ties.

What I mean is okay, so it first of all just made sense to me to have shark shifter communities be heavily focused around adoption, because like....let’s be real, shark shifters going around biting people to change them into shifters, and then people magically healing from....shark bites....was going to attract a lot more attention than people turning after being attacked by other types of shifters. Not to mention the fact that not only are shark attacks always big news, part of why they’re big news is because they’re actually pretty rare.

So, shark shifter communities were never really gonna propagate via lots of random shark shifter attacks turning people. So the way they DO expand and grow is by, well, family. Both biological AND adoption...as well as of course shark shifter communities taking in people who ARE attacked by rogue shark shifters, when that does happen.

But bottom line is, there’s an additional element in play in shark shifter communities, beyond just the gene pool....and that’s like, a magical tidepool of talents, let’s call it. Because I do love me some alliteration. But also tidepool of talents is just a cool phrase, IMO.

Anyway, the main part of shark shifter magic, and how THEIR whole is greater than the sum of their parts, is that any shark shifter can draw upon or channel the talents, skillsets or knowledge of anyone else in their communal family. And whenever that family gets added to, the talents, skillsets and knowledge of the new addition gets added to the pot, so to speak. So shark shifters are kinda all like Rogue, if Rogue’s focus was less on the superpowers of other people and more on things like Beast’s scientific knowledge, Cyclops’ strategic skills or Cable’s weapons expertise.

And then their ‘passive magic’ is a form of psychometry whenever they come into contact with blood. By touching even just a drop of someone’s blood, they can get a vision of how that blood was spilled or even get a sense of where the person who spilled it is now.

As to the types of sharks and dolphins they all are, for that I went with the thing about the shape you take reflects the person you are.....all the shifters here are full shifters, and there’s no genetic component to their shifting, its purely magical, so like....just because Peter turned the various dolphins of BB doesn’t mean they all turn into the same kind of dolphin he was. In fact, I don’t even know what kind of dolphin he was on account of I don’t really care tbh, lol. Whereas Erica’s an Atlantic spotted dolphin, Liam’s a pygmy killer whale which looks like an orca just tiny in comparison and is actually a dolphin, and I found that combination of factors hilarious, etc, etc.

Same thing with the shark shifters. Even among biological relations, there’s a ton of variety of shark types. Like the twins aren’t even the same type...Ethan’s a blue shark and Aiden’s a bull shark, Tracy’s a tiger shark and Hayden’s an angel shark. Danny’s actually a throwback to an unnamed prehistoric shark, not Megalodon big but big enough to shut up Jackson when he goes on about being a great white shark. Shark and crocodile shifters are the two oldest shifter clans, old enough that literal dinosaurs fall under the umbrella of their shifter type, and thus occasionally show up even in modern generations.

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Cerebus #20 (1980)

Cerebus' expressions from the beginning of the blow job to the end.

This is the issue where Cerebus truly became presidential. Or whatever adjective I should be using to describe how Cerebus was just a Swords & Sorcery parody comic book with guest appearances of parodies of other fictional characters (Come on. We all know Groucho Marx is a fictional character) but then suddenly became a political and religious and philosophical parody comic book with guest appearances of parodies of political, religous, or philosophical personas. Maybe I meant it matured? Sure, it'll still have Elrod for a bit and satires of DC and Marvel heroes and, sometime after the next couple dozen issues, the McFleagle Brothers but it'll also have a bunch of stuff I don't understand too! And if I don't understand something, you better believe it's smart! That's gospel coming from somebody who just finished reading Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow and understood exactly 12% of it (that 12% deals with boners, sex, drugs, and coprophilia (my parents would be proud that I didn't even need to Google how to spell that!)). Why do I think this is the issue where Cerebus matured? Because it begins with a quote from Cirin's The New Matriarchy. Shit's about to get real, goose.

This is the second great joke in Dave's blank page series of jokes.

I absolutely mean it when I call the blank page jokes great. It's an important example of what I think differentiates Early Stage Writer Dave Sim with Late Stage Writer Dave Sim: his whimsy. At some point after this moment when the comic book matures, Dave Sim begins to take things way too seriously. Sure, he still gets goofy even at the end when he introduces the Three Stooges. But it's different because it's goofiness in service to the serious. It's not just goofiness for goofiness sake. It might be slapstick but it's not whimsical. Or maybe it is but it's hard to see it that way after you've just read a year or two of horribly dry and reaching Biblical explications. Last issue, Cerebus was captured by Perce, a Cirinist. He has been drugged and about to have his cards read to see if he will be a fitting ally for the rise of the Matriarchy. It's either that or be destroyed even though the quote from Cirin's book says "We cannot dismiss any soul as extraneous. All originate with the Mother and all must be instructed in her ways." I suppose later when we learn Cirin isn't actually Cirin but Cirin's general, it makes sense that the words of Cirin don't match the action of the current Cirinists. While in his drugged state, Cerebus reaches the Seventh Sphere and begins talking to somebody (not Gort). I believe it's Cerebus' first communication with Suenteus Po (the third aardvark after Cerebus and "Cirin" (really Serna, Cirin's general who takes over the movement)). I'm sure that will be revealed by the end of the issue. It probably isn't too important now.

This conversation takes place after Cerebus tells the voice he has been drugged. "Some of my best friends drug people" is a fantastic line.

Suenteus Po reveals himself and Cerebus recognizes the name as the founder of Illusionism. I don't remember any of Po's Illusionist philosophies. That means he probably isn't super important to the story except for a later big reveal that he's also an aardvark. It seems like Astoria and Kevillism become more important. That's probably because Astoria and Cirin are out there on the battlefield crossing swords while Po is, I don't know, hanging out with guys who drug people and partying in the seventh sphere. Hmm, you know what? That might actually be the basic tenets of Illusionism: drink, fuck, and blow your mind, dudes! Oh, I also just remembered that this might not even be the actual Suenteus Po! I guess Dave Sim loves the "this character wasn't really the character you thought it was" reveal! Or maybe Sim just found that a convenient way to shift continuity when he realized an early voice of a character didn't exactly fit the character he wanted it to be in a later story arc. Cerebus tries to pit the Illsuionists against the Cirinists in a battle just outside the place he's being held captive. It almost works but before Wenda and Perce both leave him alone to fight Illusionists, Wenda drugs him again and he loses consciousness. So the Illusionists (at least this version that probably interpreted all of the real Po's writings incorrectly because who wouldn't want to believe in a philosophy where you just indulge in debauchery?) get their asses kicked by the Cirinists because the Cirinists mean business and the Illusionists mean fun. And business always trumps fun for some stupid reason. I guess maybe that reason is ambition or something. The letters page was unremarkable. The Single Page had an Evan Dorkin "Milk & Cheese" strip. The best part was seeing the address to Slave Labor Graphics on Bascom Avenue in San Jose, some of my old stomping grounds. Pretty sure it was located next door to a shop that sold old toys and collectibles. It wasn't too far from Taco Bravo. Cerebus #20 Rating: B+. Remember when Neil Gaiman wrote that 24 hour comic book about "Heliogabalus"? I do. See you next time, farts!

#Cerebus #Dave Sim

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imreallystressed · 4 years

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nothing is okay /j (pt. 3)

word count: ~2,200 pairings: it’s literally just platonic (obviously) creativitwins, some angst some comfort warnings: angst angst angst, with the comfort being a slightly-more-cathartic-than-usual-bandaid. roman and remus both have what amount to identity crises. buildings falling apart? mention of puking. general creepy language (both in the remus way and like horror-esque). swearing! notes: oh boy. i’d say i’m sorry but i know exactly what i’m doing. my favorite part is literally just “whimsy-twinsy”, which should surprise no one!! also apologies for procrastinating this for so long!!! first! - prev! - next! AO3 LINK

Roman was fairly sure he was going to pass out. He probably could’ve communicated this to Remus, who was definitely talking to him, but he couldn’t actually hear anything over the blood pounding in his head.

He suddenly wished fervently that he hadn’t closed the door behind him. Or agreed to this. Or gotten out of bed at all.

“Roman, for fuck’s sake, are you even conscious?” Remus shouted, loudly enough to snap Roman out of his trance.

“Uh- yeah, yeah! What’s up?” Roman said. Remus raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “I didn’t believe that one either.”

“What the fuck did you do? Honestly, if this was on purpose, I’m impressed, but judging by the fact that you just went catatonic as a dead rat I’m going to have to assume this was a mistake.”

“Can we just go?” Roman snapped, yanking his hand from Remus and forcing himself to face the landscape before him. His beautiful rolling hills, filled with secrets from his subconscious and little reminders of Thomas’ life were gone, replaced with a forest that ached of too many thunderstorms and loneliness. The trees were hunched over the path like they were ready to reach out and grab whichever unlucky traveler dared head through the woods.

Roman steadied himself, which basically meant firmly shoving his racing heart to the back of his mind and starting down the path. Remus followed, uncharacteristically silent.

The further they got in the suffocating atmosphere, the more off-balance Roman felt. The forest really did feel like it was pulling at them, vines unfurling in his face and weeds curling around his boots. Every ounce of the environment screamed unstable, it felt like some kind of apocalypse had once flattened it.

Roman wished Remus would just say something, anything, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood, walking a few steps behind Roman and keeping his head down, glowering through his bangs.

He was fully aware his breathing was far too erratic for a stroll in the woods, and immediately felt a pang of guilt as he wondered if it was affecting Thomas. That train of thought lead him directly to Virgil, and then he had the fleeting thought that maybe it was Virgil’s panic affecting him.

He looked up and saw some kind of eyeless creature watching them through the branches, and there went that thought.

Roman danced through old daydreams in his head, trying to settle on something to think of other than the possibly perilous danger he was in, but after fifteen minutes of failing every idea he thought of, he gave up.

This was conveniently when they came to a crossroads and he was forced to pause. Remus stood beside him, the maybe-six-inches between them like a gaping chasm.

“Do you remember the way?” Roman asked quietly.

“I haven’t been since... yeah,” Remus trailed off, peering around the corner. “You’d know better.”

“You think I’ve been since then?”

Remus looked up at him with a hint of shock in his eyes, and Roman’s heart ached. “You haven’t?”

“What, you think I enjoy literally and empathetically lo-jacking my friends every day?” Roman asked. He’d intended for it to come out jokingly, but the tremble in his voice dashed that dream instantly. Remus gave him an incredulous look.

“You could know everyone’s deepest secrets.”

“I don’t want to know everyone’s deepest secrets!” Roman said, equal parts upset and offended that Remus would think he’d spy on them like that.

Remus turned away, looking down the path to their right, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, then I guess we just have to try each one, right?”

“What if the path doesn’t even lead to the fountain?” Roman blurted, before he could stop himself. “What if this is all some wild goose chase?”

“Geese are pretty fun!”

Roman smacked Remus gently on the shoulder. “I mean it.”

“I know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

“You of all people should know that that doesn’t work,” Roman said, trying for levity and falling somewhere between ‘miserable’ and ‘actually offensive’.

Remus frowned at him. “You sound like Logan.”

Roman blinked. “Oh my god, I do. What’s happening to me? Is this the mom instinct?”

Remus began cackling, and Roman started giggling a little deliriously.

“And stop with the what ifs. That’s Virgil’s thing. The fact that you’re even saying that means we’re almost certainly on the right path. Now c’mon, we’re racing. Last one there has to suck a horse dick!”

“No-”

Roman did actually beat Remus there, who seemed far too comfortable with his fate, and both turned to look at the scene before them.

Roman’s heart dropped a little further.

“That’s - well. At least that’s it, right?” Remus said, his voice pointedly cheery. Roman nodded woodenly, staring at the entrance. He could already feel his hands start to shake.

“That’s it.”

“You did a good job sealing it.”

“I guess.”

“Real fucking helpful now,” Remus said, and Roman snorted. Careless of the wild plants, many covered in menacing thorns, Remus stalked forward to the entrance and heaved one of the rocks to the side, creating an opening big enough for them to get through.

Remus didn’t hesitate a second to dive through, and his awed “woah” echoed back to Roman.

He picked his way across the plant life, and crawled through the hole, significantly less elegantly than he meant to, and stood beside his twin.

The inside of the spring was covered in plant life, and the air hung humid enough to make breathing just a touch more difficult than it needed to be. Remus was looking around like he was thrilled, but Roman felt a clawing sense of dread pooling in his chest.

Some kind of lizard scuttled across a nearby rock, and he shuddered.

“Okay, creepy water time?” Roman said, interrupting their reverie. Remus grinned brightly in his direction and turned to the pool in the center of the cave.

“Be my guest!”

“This is my side of the Imagination.”

“Okay, die then.”

Roman took a step forward, and instantly regretted it.

If he had had an orchestra playing a score for his life, now would have been the time for the violin sting.

The entire cave rumbled to life, vibrating around them. Pebbles began to cascade off the walls and ceiling, throwing clouds of dust as they rained a twisted hail upon the brothers.

Cracks started to web across the ceiling, larger plates of rock collapsing onto the ground, crushing plants and moss and ripping vines as they fell.

“Uh, Rem, I didn’t think you meant that literally-”

“See the thing is that I didn’t, I’m not doing this, which is surprising because I’m me - move!”

Remus dove, slamming Roman to the ground as a massive boulder careened into the spot where he was standing.

And just like that, the earthquake stopped.

Remus shoved himself off of Roman, but Roman caught his shoulder.

“You saved me?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Uh, yeah. The only person- er, rock- who gets to knock out my brother is me.”

Roman fairly beamed in his direction, and Remus shook his head.

“Less sentiment, more sentient! Water!” he griped, gesturing wildly in the direction of the pool.

“Right,” Roman said, and Remus found himself missing the bright smile.

Roman walked heavily over to the water, resigned, and plunged his right hand into the just-a-little-too-blue water, squinting against it and trying to brace for whatever he was about to see.

Turns out that was just water, because nothing happened.

Remus sat beside him, glancing between him and the water expectantly.

“Uh, no offense, but that doesn’t look like Virgil.”

“It’s not working.”

“I can tell. Are you doing something different, or...?”

“I never really knew what I was doing. Oh my god, this was just a waste of time. I was worried about not finding it but we found it and it’s not even going to work because I’m just a fucking failure-”

“Roman,” Remus tried, a little taken aback.

“It doesn’t even matter if I could make it work, even if I can’t, because no matter where he is he won’t even listen to me because no one ever does, and they’re right, they shouldn’t, because everything I say is useless or wrong or-”

“Roman!” Remus yelled, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and yanking his hand out of the water. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I told you! I fucking told you everything, the one correct thing I’m ever going to say-”

“You’re wrong,” Remus interrupted, shaking Roman just a little bit. Roman froze, his glassy eyes staring back at Remus. “You’re wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Roman, you’re wrong,” Remus said, practically clinging at this point. “You’re the good twin. You’re not useless, you’re not wrong. I mean it, Ro.”

Roman blinked at him. “What do you mean by good twin?”

Remus jerked away suddenly, clasping his hands in his lap. “I mean- well- all that stuff you said. It’s - that stuff doesn’t apply to you. Because you’re the good twin.”

“You’re saying it applies to you.”

Remus stared into the water.

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

“It’s not a big deal. I get it, hell, I’m proud of it. I’m evil.”

“But you’re not,” Roman insisted, trying to make Remus look at him.

“But I am, Roman! That’s my whole thing! People shouldn’t listen to me because it’s my job to not be listened to!” Remus retorted.

“That doesn’t mean you’re evil!”

“Well that doesn’t work, does it? Two twins, good creativity, bad creativity. White and black. Good and evil, Roman.”

“But-”

“We split for a goddamn reason. Now would you just make the fucking water work?”

Remus finally turned, and wished he hadn’t. Roman was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest. His voice hadn’t shown it, but there were tears streaming down his face.

“Roman-”

“Fine.”

Roman plunged both hands into the water, and in the ripples Remus could almost see it, so close to their goal - but there was nothing there. It was just water.

Roman pulled his hands from the spring, set his head on the rim, and sobbed.

“We’ll- it’s fine. We’ll find Virgil the old fashioned way.”

“If he doesn’t want us to find him, we won’t,” Roman said miserably, and Remus took a moment to be extremely offended that he was right.

Remus sighed. “Look at us. Two idiots who don’t even know how to do their own jobs.”

Roman’s head shot up, and he whirled to face Remus.

“Say that again,” he said, and his voice bordered on manic but he was starting to smile, so Remus repeated himself.

“Two idiots who don’t even know how to do their own jobs?”

“That’s it, oh my god, Rem, you’re a genius, why don’t I listen to you more often-”

“Slow down, whimsy-twinsy! What’s this genius idea I apparently came up with?”

“It’s just like Janus said-”

“Wait, what?”

“-we’re nuanced now, but we weren’t back then. So the spring is powered by quote-unquote ‘good’ creativity, but since we’re not black and white anymore, we need both of us to power it.”

“You lost me at nuanced.”

“Rem. Come on!” Roman begged, holding out his hand.

“You’re nuanced, I’m not, it’s not gonna work.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and can’t we at least try?”

Remus was about three seconds from either standing up and running or straight up puking at the obvious emotional display happening, but Roman looked genuinely pleading and well, Remus wasn’t going to examine his motivations any further than that.

“Fine,” he said, taking Roman’s hand and pretending he didn’t blanch at the answering smile he got.

Roman tugged their hands into the spring.

“Okay, now do I imagine plum fairies and sweet little birds?”

“No, dumbass, you think of Virgil.”

“Oh. Right.”

Remus wrinkled his nose and tried his best to think of positive memories of Virgil, which worked up until a certain age, but Remus had a very good memory, so it wasn’t a problem staying before then.

Achingly slowly, colour began to spread from their hands, and the pool reflected an image of Virgil, pacing back and forth somewhere Remus didn’t recognize.

“Uh, where is that?” Remus asked, glancing at Roman.

“I... don’t know.”

“Can we like, pan around?”

“I don’t know if it works like that,” Roman said, but it apparently wasn’t necessary, because Virgil chose that moment to walk in the opposite direction.

Their view shifted, and Remus felt his heart sink.

“He’s in the otherscape.”

“What?”

“The dark side, basically. Like your mindscape but... y’know. Ours. Er, mine.”

“Huh?” Roman said, puzzled. “Why would Virgil go there?”

“I’m more interested in the how. You light sides can’t rise up into it, and the door disappeared after Virgil left.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’ll explain more on the way back. We’ve gotta get the others, because I am not breaking into my own house without everyone there.”

“You’d break into your own house any day. You just like breaking into places.”

“Yeah, well. Usually I do it for more fun reasons.”

Roman sighed, squeezing Remus’ hand, and they both took off running.

Behind them, the pool began to drain.

( taglist [which i have now apparently?? tysm :7!!]: @glitchybina )

#sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #ts fic #ts spoilers #tw angst #roman sanders #remus sanders #creativitwins #longpost #stressed writes shit

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florrickandassociates · 4 years

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TGF Thoughts: 4x07-- The Gang Discovers Who Killed Jeffrey Epstein

What a weird episode.

This episode is something else. The writers REALLY overestimated how much the audience (or at least the fandom) liked the pee tape and Melania divorce episodes if they thought this was a good idea.

My recollection of those episodes is that because everything was fake-but-real, the stakes wound up feeling lower and I stopped caring, and when I’m not on board with the plot, the surreal shit and the whimsy feel more annoying than innovative. This episode might fare slightly better in my opinion than the other two because of its central device (more on that later) but it’s (somehow!!!) even more audacious and wild than the episodes that came before. Not my favorite look for the show.

I DO like the tributes to musicians we’ve lost to COVID-19 that play over the credits.My one quibble is that they could’ve used a little card to inform viewers what’s going on and why. Last week I caught the artist in the captions but this week I missed it (or it wasn’t there), though I figured out pretty quickly it was John Prine.

Starting off an episode with Liz is always a good choice.

Liz and Marissa are, for reasons we’ll discover later, in New York and investigating Jeffrey Epstein’s “suicide.”

It drives me INSANE that Marissa consistently has the sound on her phone on. I think we’d know she was taking pictures without it.

Liz’s old boss, Wilbur Dincon, has tasked Liz to independently investigate what happened. If this case goes well, RBL will get more business from the DOJ.

I’m sorry, did you just say “S-H-U” instead of pronouncing it like “shoe”? I mean, I’m an expert on prisons because I watched Orange is the New Black so I know it should be said like “shoe.” (tbh i have no idea if one is more correct than the other)

This case has lots of details but it’s really only the thematic points that matter, so I likely won’t discuss any plot points… just what they’re going for.

Good to know Liz was ahead of the curve on knowing Epstein was a dangerous creep.

Liz is promised she can investigate anyone she wants and think outside the box. Sure. I believe this as much as I believe Diane is in charge of pro-bono stuff because STR Laurie has great intentions.

“Synergy” is such a great bullshit word. Has everyone ever said it for a reason other than the following three: (1) To mock the word synergy (2) as a euphemism for cost-cutting measures that will fuck over employees (3) because they think it sounds professional and want to cover up the fact they don’t know what they’re talking about?

In this case, “synergy” means that RBL needs to cut their payroll by 20%. Fun times.

Diane and Adrian (Liz is downstairs) are not happy about this, even when Mr. Firth reminds them it’s more money for them. They’d rather have less money personally but happier employees since they’re not soulless.

Mr. Firth says they have to do the layoffs. But if it’s any consolation, they get to hand pick who to lay off!

The dogs are still being walked through RBL, in case it wasn’t clear enough that STRL sucks.

The whole firm gets to work on sorting through the Epstein evidence. Liz tries to keep things organized-- murder evidence on one side, suicide evidence on the other.

Associates, however, immediately begin interpreting the word “evidence” loosely. Is there a photo of Epstein with someone they’d like to suspect of murder? Then it’s “evidence of murder”. Ok, Leah.

As expected, this immediately turns into bickering over politics. Sorry Liz-- it’s going to be tough to keep your staff on target with this one.

“No! No conspiracy theories. No insane charges. Everything we do, we need evidence, so let’s start here.” Ah, if only everyone could think like Liz.

The room focuses on evidence for about two minutes. Then they find a way to make it about conspiracies again. Go team!

Also everyone at RBL thinks they have better knowledge than professional medical examiners of the marks left on someone’s neck after they hang themselves. They also all believe that pretending to strangle themselves is the best way to prove their point. It’s a hilarious sight for Diane and Adrian to happen upon.

Adrian and Diane immediately start seeing their employees as numbers and imagining the cost savings of laying them off. Marissa is making $89,000 a year with three years of experience. Jay is making $89,000/year with eight years. Damn, that is so unfair to Jay. (I could see it if Marissa is more vocal about wanting higher pay or if they’re more concerned with losing her… but being vocal about money is probably closely related to Marissa’s privilege and there is zero evidence Marissa is any better, more efficient, or more hardworking than Jay!) I can’t remember how this plot ended last year, but I thought Jay ended up making more than Marissa after he complained?

Adrian seems to see Jay as the more disposable of the investigators, which is quite sad, especially since from what we see, Marissa and Jay seem to be equally skilled.

I wish we got to see the salaries, rather than just billable hours, of the other associates. But I’m glad they finally get last names!

Kevin Walker has been at the firm 7 years and has 2643 billable hours.

Diane imagines the red X over Marissa. I can’t tell if the Xs are to demonstrate who they think they should cut or just to show deliberations.

Lucca has been at the firm for 4 years and has 2788. Her title is “associate” but shouldn’t it be “Head of Family Law”?

Leah Davis has been at the firm for 3 years and has 2657 billable hours.

Jancie Muncy has been at the firm 11 years with 2456 hours; Micah Carroll has been there 5 with 2582 hours. John Danzette with 6 years and 2074 hours; Rosalyn Brock with 4 years and 1991 hours (we learn later she was on medical leave for part of the year). Josh Withers with 11 years and 2162. Linda Keller with 2 years and 2389; Mike Roberts with 3 years and 2147. So what I’m getting is that Lucca has the most billable hours of everyone?

I wish it told us their salaries. How much do the billable hours matter if we don’t know how much $ each hour is worth?

I really like this device. It’s a good way of showing how tough this decision is and how dehumanizing the process becomes.

Adrian jumps into the conversation and tries to convince everyone Epstein’s suicide isn’t a conspiracy-- it’s just incompetence. Apparently he has a sink that breaks every week and no plumber can fix it because they are all incompetent. I understand this analogy-- no one does their job perfectly 100% of the time-- but I am really concerned about Adrian’s sink. This sounds like a bigger issue than incompetence.

“People do just enough work to get by,” is a very true statement though. I have often thought that it’s kind of incredible the world is as functional as it is.

If you have 4 or 5 conveniently incompetent breakdowns at once, though, I’m not sure I believe it’s purely incompetence. Feels a bit convenient.

Diane jumps in and makes a case for why the conspiracy is also likely. This strikes me as counterproductive since what REALLY needs to happen here is for the associates to dig through the evidence. Why not go back to Liz’s original system where they look through the evidence and see where it leads them?

Lots of news footage and photographs in this one.

Diane’s larger point seems to tie back into Memo 618: “We all have to obey the law. I mean, if we’re told we have to check into with the police every 90 days, we do it. But certain people don’t have to. They’re given special treatment.” Diane claims this is America-- “a special fucking off-ramp for the well-connected.”

Isn’t it possible both are true? That there’s a lot of incompetence and also systems in place that protect the rich and powerful? Also none of this is evidence!!!

(I do like this scene for showing Adrian’s POV (cynical about human nature) vs Diane’s (fed up with the government and the treatment of the ultra wealthy). And the show can’t really dig into evidence they don’t actually possess. But evidence-free speeches don’t seem productive!)

Liz is like, okay then… and splits the room into three groups to look at evidence. I am glad Diane and Adrian helped her so much.

Liz is NOT happy about the layoffs when Diane and Adrian loop her in. She’s opposed to cutting anyone. Diane says she could lose Kevin, but Liz sees Kevin as someone newer employees look up to. Adrian suggests Lucy (who?) and Liz says that Lucy actually should get a raise. Diane points out this will look bad to the clients. All good points. This seems like an impossible decision.

Case stuff happens. Lucca knows a “hairdresser to the stars” through Bianca.

And now for some scenes where Diane and Julius try to report Memo 618 to the government and do the right thing! The Kings have said these were intended for episode 8, and while they don’t really feel that out of place since there’s clearly a thematic link between 618 and Epstein’s connections, this bit of info explains two things: (1) Why this ep is 53 minutes long when it feels like it could make its point in less time and (2) why the Julius stuff that happens later in the episode feels a bit anticlimactic because so much else is also happening. My guess is in an episode where it’s more of the focal point it would feel like a much bigger deal.

Do you ever just see a shot of Diane and think, “Damn, Taylor Swift does really look like a young Diane?” Because I do. All the time.

Lucca visits the famous hairdresser and he makes time for her right away. And he gives her a letter from Epstein that he (a) has in his possession and (b) has in an unlocked drawer in his salon. Whatever.

Lucca convinces him to let her have it, and RBL makes a video to establish chain of custody. I’m shocked we’ve never seen them do this before.

“It is Thursday, May 21st, 2020” Liz says. Nah. You’re in an office. It is not.

The envelope contains a key, a secret code, and a letter that says “If I’m dead, watch out for BUD”. Welp, there goes any hope of this not turning into RBL chasing conspiracies!

Rumors about layoffs (40%! Just paralegals! Everyone!) have spread, in case there wasn’t enough chaos.

The partners are indeed discussing who to fire, and they can’t decide on anyone. So they decide it’s time to get out from under STRL and buy themselves out. It’ll take 20 million, but they can pull that together.

This would play better if we knew why they decided to sell to STRL in the first place. Who WOULDN’T have seen this coming?

Liz tells Adrian not to make any promises he can’t keep and he is like, this is like our marriage. Diane is still in the room which is awkward and funny.

Marissa finds “BUD” on a blueprint. A clue! Meanwhile, Lucca and Jay (really, Jay) figure out the code.

This is the portion of the episode where I can leave the show playing on my phone and go check Twitter instead of writing any commentary.

Julius gets arrested for speaking out about Memo 618! It feels less impactful than it should when it’s sandwiched between a bunch of scenes following the conspiracy. (Also I am a little surprised they didn’t have Julius and Diane go to the press before the government.)

The conference room squabbles again and Liz asks, again, to tone down the conspiracy theories. They instead begin fighting about even more conspiracy theories.

Unless there’s another conference room scene later, I think this was the moment I understood what the Kings were doing and started to like the episode more. As soon as I realized “BUD” was a Citizen Kane reference, I burst out laughing. This episode plays way better when you know the point they’re trying to make is that this is a lot of fuss that will ultimately be futile (though Marissa and Jay DO come close to finding BUD) than when you’re supposed to be riveted by watching people debate fake evidence.

Why does Eli Gold have a cheerleader friend? Who knows! Who cares!

Adrian suggests that he, Diane, and Liz involve their own homes in the scheme to getting 20 million dollars. Liz objects since she’s a single mom-- very fair. Adrian argues that they’ve done well in the past so they’ll get it back. Liz and Diane attack that idea before I can-- if that were really true, they never would have sold to STRL.

Liz mentions losing ChumHum and the fallout from her dad’s scandal and then says “let us not forget why we joined STRL in the first place.” I feel like that line would work better if the “let us not forget…” came before the “we lost ChumHum”. Because we don’t actually KNOW why they joined STRL. And, as I said in a previous recap, I can roll with it for the sake of plot, but I can’t take lines like “let us not forget why we joined STRL” seriously when there was LITERALLY NO ON SCREEN DELIBERATION about it.

Adrian says STRL doesn’t value them, their employees, their history, or their culture. To which I say, DUH. Why would you think they did?

The only important thing about this cheerleader is that she’s played by the amazing Donna Lynne Champlin. Kind of sad she’s in this silly, non-recurring role. She’s so good. (Also she was totally on TGW playing a different role, shhhh). (Go watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, everyone!)

CONSPIRACY THEORIES! It’s another conference room scene. Maybe this is where I realized it was a Citizen Kane reference? But I think it was the earlier one.

Hey, it’s another Julius scene. Watching these and knowing they were meant for a different episode, I can’t help but notice that they do feel like pieces of the A plot of a different episode. The whole system is rigged, Julius and Diane realize.

Adrian, Liz, and Diane tell Mr. Firth they want out. Mr. Firth tells them they need to cobble together an impossible 80 million, not 20 million, because not all of the partners have been bringing in more revenue more than they used to. You see, Diane hasn’t been bringing in any money because she’s been in charge of the pro bono department. Ah.There’s the catch.

I’m shocked they went up to Mr. Firth without reading every inch of that contract. Aren’t you guys partners at a law firm? I’m shocked Diane went ahead with taking charge of pro bono without looking for a catch. This sucks for the character and all, but how are these name partners at a liberal firm that’s seen more than its fair share of drama this naive about big corporations!? This plot twist is devastating… until I start to think about all the things they had to believe to get to this point.

Still, it’s satisfying to hear Diane hiss “you fucker!” at Mr. Firth.

Mr. Firth turns into a villain quite nicely. I wonder if we’ll see more of him next year. My guess is the remaining three episodes were going to tie together the corporate overlords plot and Memo 618 and wrap everything up more or less with a bow so they could do a new concept next year. I feel like they’ll either move on completely and tell us what happened, or do an episode like 2x02 (the one that wraps up all the Maia/Rindell Fund stuff in one go so it doesn’t hang over s2).

Dincon drops by unexpectedly and isn’t impressed with what Liz and the team have done, since all they’ve done is collect conspiracy theories (and possibly travel all over the country? Jay and Marissa go to the Virgin Islands; it is unclear if the architect and key maker and lawyer and everyone else were in Chicago…

In Dincon’s defense these conspiracy theories sound like complete nonsense.

Dincon shuts the RBL team down, but Marissa and Jay are still off adventuring.

Diane asks Dincon what Memo 618 is because Epstein’s life was built on it. “Then you have your answer,” Dincon replies. This scene is another tell that those Julius scenes weren’t meant for 4x07.

Aaaaand now we get the direct parallels to Citizen Kane, with some shot-for-shot remakes and even a sled (ha!).

There’s a secret door! Marissa and Jay are excited to investigate! Marissa references Parasite, which I haven’t seen yet because I’m awful at watching movies.

Marissa and Jay find nothing and leave. “I think we lost track of the real story: the underage girls,” Marissa realizes. Yup. That is the takeaway. Looking at all these conspiracies is fun but useless, and the most important truth has already been uncovered.

After Marissa and Jay leave, we get to see what was in the secret room… BUD is Epstein’s penis. And… that’s a wrap on season 4? What a fucking weird way to end a season.

#the good fight #tgfthoughts

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revangerang · 4 years

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Oh boy I really got in my feelings and wrote way too much lmao

Tagged by: @edithpattou86

Tags your friends to do their own lists: @chierafied @mother-ishvara @doughygraduatestudent @kazoomajor @pagan-assassin

[[MORE]]

Top 5 animated movies:

1. Whisper of the Heart - Such a cute and whimsical slice-of-life coming of age story, and so inspiring for creative types! I love how Shizuku sees her fantasies come to life in the world around her, and how she just follows her whims to wander the city and treats each day like an adventure. I see a lot of myself in her. The grandpa and his shop are so cool! I want to find a place like that in my city! I love how she and Seiji inspire and encourage each other to improve themselves. Even though they’re so young and I usually hate that kind of thing, I think it’s a very realistic portrayal of what true love and a healthy relationship should be. The way her writing is treated as a creative process and something she can polish with hard work is just such a wonderful message and so inspiring to me.

2. Spirited Away - I love the Japanese culture and mythology, and the serene, still tone of the film. Truly beautiful. The way it doesn’t paint the spirits and gods in a bad light is good and correct: they were the careless humans who went into their world and took what they shouldn’t have. But it still focuses on the supernatural and eerie elements, often without even explaining anything, which I love. And the bathhouse feels like a real functioning place with workplace culture and all. And of course it’s great that Chihiro steps up and learns to be strong. I just love it.

3. Howl’s Moving Castle - I love all the characters so much, and all the magic and whimsy. The fantasy European setting is so charming, and they did a good job depicting Western magic. Ghibli movies really have such mundane magic, and they make me feel like my life is magic too. Sophie is so good and strong and I love seeing her come into her own. And Howl is hot. lmao

4. My Neighbor Totoro - I had the original Fox dub of this on a bootleg VHS my grandma made us when I was literally like an infant. My parents threw it away when I was still young- like no older than 5- because it “has Eastern religion in it” 🙄 Too bad for them the damage was already done lmfao. It was definitely one of the biggest influences of my formative years, I loved it so much and I’m so grateful to it. That mundane magic I talked about before, and just introducing me to a totally different worldview from my sheltered white American Christian bubble. I was fascinated by every single aspect from the traditional Japanese-style home to the bentos to the shrines... I really admired Satsuki and how grown up she was, taking care of her little sister like she did, making the lunches, all that. It’s really such a charming movie with great music and such a realistic depiction of childhood. Plus who doesn’t love Totoro himself?? And catbus! Iconicccc. I still look for little portholes in bushes and trees to this day lmao

5. Mulan - My little 8-year-old enby ass crying in the living room and repeatedly playing the Reflections scene over and over makes so much more sense now 😂 But really it’s just such a great film with a unique art style, fun characters, and great music. I love how Mulan fights for what she believes is right, and wants to protect her father. And I think it’s great how she also fights to find her own place in the world. I like how they don’t make it a “not like other girls” thing, but just that she personally somehow doesn’t feel comfortable in her own skin with the makeup and all that. Between her living as a man and the clear romantic relationship between “Ping” and Shang, it’s pretty good queer representation for a 2000s Disney movie lol. Also Mulan and Shang can both get it I mean what.

Honorable Mention: Prince of Egypt - That animation tho! So fucking cinematic!! And the music and everything just ugh so good! The characters are really compelling too and you can totally feel the brotherly love and familial issues.

Top 5 live action movies:

1. Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day - This is a movie where you can’t look away for a moment or you’ll miss something important. It really is just one entire heck of a day for the main character like howwww does so much happen. It’s really just written so well honestly that they manage to pack so much into a single movie and a single day. I aspire to that level. The 30s setting is so great with the costumes and set and music ahh I get so much inspiration from it. Every single character (and actor for that matter) is just fantastic. It’s super funny- that situational comedy is my jam. And there are touching moments that give me inspiration for my own life. I relate to Miss Pettigrew with her clear social anxiety, and perhaps neurodivergency? But I love how the events of the film bring out the best in her. And Delysia is just so charming! I want her confidence

2. La La Land - Such a fun and whimsical musical about life for creatives in Los Angeles~ It makes me feel nostalgic and proud to live here. I love all the different homages to classic Hollywood, and the music is so good!! The love story feels realistic and I actually really like that they don’t end up together in the end. They just encourage each other to be better, and if that means being apart, they’re willing to do it. It is another one that gives me inspiration for my life and creative endeavors, especially The Fools Who Dream 😭 Gets me every time.

3. Mamma Mia - This is my shameless feel-good movie. I love just putting it on in the background as I clean or whatever. It’s just so upbeat and fun!! I love Amanda Seyfried and Meryl Streep especially. And I like that the main character learns what she wants (and doesn’t want) out of life right now. And I love that they depict older characters and women!! having full and rich lives including romance and sex. The message that it’s never too late for love is so great! And also just like please communicate and you will probably save yourself so much heartache lmao.

4. Across the Universe - I have an affinity for the 60s and 70s, and I love how this movie kind of takes you through that era with the various characters. It’s such a fun movie with great costumes, cinematography, and music! I just love all the covers of the Beatles songs!! I honestly like them just as much as I like the originals. This is one of the first things I ever saw with positive/neutral queer representation?? Like Sadie is presented just as she is, without it being like WHAT SHE LIKES WOMEN?????? I”MPOSSIBLE !! Or making it all about sex or whatever. It’s literally just like “I want to hold your hand.” Also the whole bit with Eddie Izzard is just incredible lmfao

5. LOTR - My first fandom~ I love these movies so much ughhh. The music! The costumes! The characters! The world! The high fantasy!! I think PJ was so true to the books, or at least as much as he was able in just 10-ish hours. I love that they just went for it and filmed all three in one go, and made them over 3 hours long, which was basically unheard of at the time for blockbuster films. They did so good fully representing the different races through costume, language, culture, and the music too. I literally used to just lay on my bed for hours at a time in junior high, listening to the soundtracks and being immersed in the world. My friends and I would often play pretend that we were in Middle Earth (so lame for middle schoolers lmaooo). I love every single (not-evil) character and I will fight for them. I will especially fight Denethor I don’t even cARE !

Honorable mention: A Little Princess - Sooo whimsical and lovely, even when the girls are going through hardship! I love Sarah and how she literally does magic and even puts a curse on what’s her face omgg. She’s so charming and a genuinely good person too, even though she could have been a spoiled brat. The big climactic scene is so !! Omg I still get the adrenaline when she’s crossing the board and then hiding from the police even though I’ve seen this countless times since I was a small child. And it’s so wonderful that she’s reunited with her father, and they adopt the other girl. It taught me at a young age that the world isn’t fair and people will be nasty and abusive for no reason, but that you can still believe in magic and “fancy yourself a princess.” And the neighbor guy taught me that strangers will step in to help out of the goodness of their heart.

Top 5 TV shows:

1. ATLA - One of the best series of all time. The worldbuilding, lore, storyline, character development, animation, music, etc, are all incredible. If they had gone with the original intention of making Zutara canon it would have been literally perfect and so subversive and innovative! As it is it is still nearly perfect and they still did an amazing job with Zuko’s redemption arc. I just ignore that very last scene tbh. In my mind, it didn’t happen. The series addresses so many issues like imperialism, sexism, abuse, family, disability, war, etc, in a very realistic way. Uncle Iroh is literally a treasure.

2. Steven Universe - So charming and wonderful!! I just love it so much!! It is so goddamn queer, it makes me so happy. Stevonnie is the nonbinary representation we don’t even deserve!! I love every single character. I love the animation and the music too! The bgm is so bubbly and glitchy and cool, super on point for trends these days. And the original songs are so charming~ It also deals with a ton of important issues like imperialism, interpersonal relationships, oppression, self-identity, abuse, leadership, mental health, boundaries, consent, brain-washing, unlearning unhealthy behavior, etc. I love that every single character, even minor ones, get character development and a chance to be strong and improve themselves. And it shows that even the ones we initially think are super strong and have it all together, actually have their own issues that they struggle with too.

3. Yuuri!!! On Ice - This show!!!! Oh my goddddddd. Literally perfect. I love that it just subverts every single trope???? Especially with the events at the beginning and the big spoiler in episode 10. Simply incredible. I love every single character so much??? Even ones I was expecting to hate, like how Yurio is a little shit at the beginning, and then when Lilia is introduced as this super severe tyrant, but she ends up just being a good, yet strict coach because she really wants Yurio to succeed. It’s honestly just so wholesome! The music is so amazing and the ice skating is really realistic too! It really shows that they had an actual skating choreographer and worked off video of him performing. I love how realistic the whole show is like with lots of social media, youtube, instagram, etc. And it does a queer romance without it being a gimmick. It’s just a sports anime with a side plot of a romance but it just happens to be gay. And Kubo-sensei has stated that homophobia doesn’t exist at all in their world which makes me so happy. It’s honestly so queer and I adore how all three main characters are genderfucks a bit. I also love how realistically Yuuri’s anxiety and depression are portrayed. I relate so much to him, especially because mine exhibit in the exact same ways as his. It’s another one that inspires me to fight to be better and live the life I want to live.

4. OTGW - So charming. A perfect addition to the canon of New England fairy tales. The music is great, the animation is wonderful and nostalgic, the characters are fun and interesting and spooky. I love how liminal it is and you aren’t really sure where they are or what’s going on for the majority of the episodes. Greg is the most realistic depiction of a small child and the brothers’ relationship is the most realistic I think I’ve ever seen in my life lmao. He’s just so random and weird and has such Little Kid Logic I love it so much lmao. The story is perfectly contained in its 10 short episodes, and it gives a very satisfying ending. I still can’t get over how many huge stars were in it too?? Like fucking Tim Curry as Auntie Whispers???? I can not believe.

5. Inuyasha - I’m weeb trash and this show is also trash but I love it so much okay. As a big fan I hold so much against the anime for changing things from the manga, but even so I love it. Overall I think the animation, music, and voice acting is perfect. It’s so cool with all the mythos of youkai and the shikon jewel, plus I love traditional Japanese culture stuff. And isekai type stuff is my jam. If I found a portal to another world or to the past you bet your ass I’d go through it. I totally don’t still look for portals as a 30 year old adult, I don’t know what you’re talking about 😂 Kagome is such a great mc tbh like she’s so smart and strong and talented and kind I just love her so much??? I want to be more like her. And I love all the characters honestly. I have to overlook some questionable 90s anime tropes for certain ones, but I still love them. As much as we rag on the constant upgrades thing, the battles and stuff are pretty thrilling, and overall the series is good fun. And yes Sesshoumaru is my husbando, next question.

Honorable Mention: Doctor Who - I love how this show manages to be like every single genre?? SciFi, historical, comedy, thriller, mystery, slice of life, etc. I love all of the Doctors, and all of their companions. I just love how much the Doctor loves humans, and how much faith they have in humanity. And again it’s that whole isekai, time travel, normal modern human goes on magical adventures thing. I would go with the Doctor in a heartbeat. I still cry over Donna 😭

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littlemonstersau-blog · 5 years

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The Feels Awaken, Part 3: A New Hope (for Friendship)

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

PART I - PART II [Interlude] - PART III - PART IV [Interlude] - PART V [FINAL] (you are here)

——————————————————————————————–

A new day dawned then waxed then began to wane, but Ford and Bill hardly noticed. A manic, obsessive energy (plus an unhealthy amount of coffee and sugar) kept them focused throughout their self-appointed task. Such is often the case for the kind of people who feel the need to write to right a wrong in the world. Not all heroes wear capes, after all; some wear turtlenecks and trenchcoats, some wear paper-based clones of teenage boys produced through unholy abominations of SCIENCE!.

… For that matter, not all heroes are particularly heroic; some are morally ambiguous straddlers of the line between antihero and antivillain, some are demonic chaos gods who (quite frankly) still wonder how in the 79 Hells they found themselves in this position.

In the end, though it did take more than the one night, they still finished in just over 16 hours. The plot outline came in at just over 18 pages, which they tidily stacked together on the table and declared to be more than adequate … before passing out on the carpet. Facefirst.

When Bill next regained consciousness, he was in his attic bed and morning light was streaming through the window. His mouth tasted like an abandoned prison for criminally insane chalk and his head felt like the internal turmoil of a buzzsaw having an existential crisis. It was a pain that was anything but hilarious; it was the sugared caffeine hangover equivalent of nuclear fallout … Mouthwash fixed the first problem. The second took an adult dosage of aspirin, a lot of water, and deliberate manipulation of many of the clonesuit’s normally automatic processes for a full eight minutes. And even then, not completely.

“Guess I can’t pilot one of these things through 36+ hours of no sleep on a gallon of coffee … Not if I wanna be able to still maneuver it the next day without crashing every ten feet into a wall or the floor, at least,” he grumbled to himself. “Major design flaw … Can’t believe they got evolutionarily approved for mass production with such weak durability …”

Downstairs in the kitchen, Stan greeted him jovially enough. “Stancakes are up, and so are you, it seems. How you feelin’ today?”

“Honestly, confused,” Bill graveled, his clonesuit throat still raw. “I can get longterm possession of a meatbag leading to me—y’know, the real me—developing emotions and physical cravings and other … gross, brain-mush junk like that. Neurochemistry is basically just an addictive habit, like how people respond to hearing the question ‘What is love?’—”

“Baby, don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me no more,” Stan mumbled automatically.

“Exactly. But what I don’t get is why the real me is also feeling this coffee and sugar hangover. No joke: I tried leaving my clonesuit to get away from it, but it followed me. How is that fair? And, yeah, existence isn’t fair,” Bill interjected before Stan automatically could. “But still …”

Like the benevolent and experienced sage he was (more or less), Stan chuckled to himself. Then, laying a companionable arm around Bill’s shoulders, he leaned in and whispered the truth as grimly as Death itself, “You can outrun your sins, but you can never outrun a hangover.”

“W-wha?”

“Some say if you never stop drinkin’, it’ll never catch up with you. But they are fools. Sooner or later, all things must sleep—sooner or later, all who drink must suffer.”

“Uh … K-kinda freakin’ me out here.” Bill tried to lean away, but Stan’s hold was inescapable. “And, just sayin’, I’m kinda responsible for making most of the 79 Hells as freaky as they are.”

“Heed my warning, child.”

“I’m heeding! I’m heeding! Elder Gods, Stan, the only one who’s supposed to give people nightmares around here is me …”

Straightening up, Stan went back to the stove to continue what passed for cooking with him. “Once you’re done eatin’, by the way, I gotta plate for you to take down to Ford. He prob’ly needs some food and water more ‘n you do.”

Between mouthfuls of food, Bill said, “Yeah, sure … You seen what we wrote, by the way?”

“Yeah. It’s not bad at all. I’d def’nitely go see movies like that. Might even pay my own money for it, too. Heh … Even Soos admitted the storylines are better. Haven’t seen him that downcast ‘bout anything in a while, either. Looked as painful for him as cutting out his own kidney. Might have to do something nice for him soon just to make up for it,” Stan added to himself.

“Huh … Yeah, maybe …” Bill chewed on his breakfast, almost starting to maybe feel guilty. Then, when he finished, he put his dishes in the sink, picked up what was meant for Ford, and took it down to the lab.

Ford, as usual, was at his desk. He was hunched over with a pen, which was also fairly usual. However, and this was very unusual, all his notes and Journals had been pushed into a corner—neatly stacked, but well out of the way. Close to hand, as if for quick reference, was actually their Cosmos Conflicts storyline.

Bill cleared his throat. “Brought some breakfast for ya from Stan.” He set it on the desk, but away from any of the papers (just in case). “How you feeling? I woke up with a caffeine hangover I couldn’t escape even when I left my body. Er, clonsuit. Whatever. Same dif.”

“… I didn’t really sleep very deeply,” Ford eventually replied, his voice as hoarse as Bill’s. “Ergo, I can’t really say I woke up with such a hangover, but I’m suffering one all the same.”

“Yeesh, that sucks. Taken anything? Had some water and some food? That helped me.”

“Some water and aspirin, yes, though I’m not sure I could keep much food down … I suppose I ought to try, anyway.”

“If you feel more rotten than a two-week-old apple core, why are you working?” Bill asked, sliding the plate closer.

“I’m not really working, per se,” Ford answered guiltily. “Just … sketching. Some stuff. For what we came up with.”

Bill’s eyes lit up with interest. “Ooo! Really? Can I see? Please?”

For a moment, Ford’s jaw worked. As though trying to control himself.

“It’s okay,” Bill said hurriedly, though unable to fully contain his disappointment. “I get it. I’ll leave you al—”

A couple pages’ worth of images (some rough sketches, some little more than absent doodles, and some rather intricate and detailed) were thrust at the Demon. “Here. Can’t see any harm in you looking at them, anyway, so …” Ford mumbled. Without looking up, he cut in to his food. “Was just doing this since I’m too awake and restless to just not do anything, but too … wooly in the head, I suppose you could say, to do any productive work.”

Bill poured over them, delighting in the imaginative whimsy of them. Most were of characters from the prequels, though with distinctive touches—touches reflecting their own collaboration (such as Otherkin in a stained pilot’s attire, Imdolledupa aiming ruthlessly with a blaster, and Jelived Knights wearing a different style of clothing from Jelived Sentinels or Jelived Healers). But some were very different, especially among the doodles. “Ha! You made a Soos Wookie!”

Ford couldn’t resist smiling. “Soosbacca. Co-pilot to Stan Solo.”

“In their spaceship, the Mystery Falcon, right? Is Melody a Wookie, too?”

“Huh … That’s not a bad idea, actually. I was having a hard time seeing how to fit her in, since she isn’t really the Princess Leia type.”

“But Mabel and—pff!—Dipper are?” Bill snorted, pointing to where they were both sketched with the iconic braids wrapping around their ears. “Both of them together?”

“Well, they’re also both Luke, since I couldn’t really pick who fit which roll better.”

“Two sets of the twins running around, huh?” Bill murmured, though he was really thinking about two Dippers (and they weren’t running around, either—they were very much not running). “… And Wendy’s Lando, I see. Am I Yoda, since I’m the most triangular or everybody, and the right size?”

“Uh …” Ford hesitated.

“Pff, it’s alright, I can already see 3PO and R2 are both me.”

Lamely, the Weirdologist explained, “Because you’re shiny. That’s the extent of the logic.”

“You gonna do any more sketches?”

“Assuming I can keep breakfast down, probably,” Ford said around a mouthful. “It’s … distracting. And fun. And relaxing, too. Helps to pass the time on a down day like this.”

“Um … M-mind if I stay and watch? Please?” Bill almost begged. “Y’know how much I love watching you meatbags make art.”

“… Oh, fine,” Ford relented. Because what was the harm in being nice to the Demon? Ford didn’t have to trust him for that. “Just don’t make any noise. My head aches enough as it is.”

Bill mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key before pulling up a chair and settling himself comfortably beside Ford. The only time he broke his silence after that was to ask Ford if he wanted more water, and to assert that the others would get a kick out of seeing these sketches (“especially Soos … the Twins, too, though we’d have to text ‘em a photo of ‘em, or mail the whole project to ‘em to see …”).

All in all, it turned out to be a rather nice day for both of them together.

#little monsters au #the feels awaken #bipper #stanford #bill cipher #writing #fanfiction #please excuse the dopey ass looking star wars sketches #also omfg this is finished finallyyyy #submission

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mutantsrisingrpg · 5 years

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Congratulations DEAN! You’ve been accepted as ARIEL.

The themes of illusion and manipulation and perception are certainly not lost in your app, Dean, and how central they are to Lenox is just so, so well written it feels like I could easily fall under the spell of one of his illusions. You’ve shown that this world and these powers don’t always harden those affected, and that spark of whimsy in Lenox really brings him to a new life. Even a simple headcanon as selling placebo drugs and using his powers to create the high gives me such a confidence in who Lenox is as a person, and I can’t wait to see his shenanigans.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

NAME/ALIAS: Dean

PRONOUNS: She/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: GMT, i’m fairly active bean and am always here to plot

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: Lenox Syed GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cismale, he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS: This is where you show us who the character is to you! The format of this doesn’t matter, whether it’s in bullet points or in para form, and can be as long as you’d like it to be. Feel free to get creative!

Lenox as a boy’s name is of Scottish and Gaelic origin, and the meaning of Lenox is “with many elm trees”.

Syed or Sayyid or Sayed (Arabic and Urdu: سيدعلی) is a family of Syeds in South Asia, notably India and Pakistan. Syeds are the direct descendants of the Islamic Prophet Muhammad.

Lenox is lost in his own fantasy world. Creating so many illusions for people each day that he has became lost in one of his own. With a lack of attention through his childhood, he craves the limelight and approval of everyone around him and will do pretty much anything to get it, even if it’s false or trickery.

He’s so painstakingly constructed, he’s his own work of art. Each detail of his personality and appearance delicately manipulated into something strikingly beautiful. Someone you can look at with awe just by the way they talk or move. It’s almost hard to realise there’s another man beneath the mask, someone raw and damaged. Like a bird with a broken wing.

BIO:

Tw: Drug mention

His mother is just fifteen when she gives birth to him, swaddled in a blue blanket and passed immediately to the arms of a doctor; she never held him, never looked at his freshly reddened face as his cries wailed down the corridors. It’s not because of his mutation, not because his birth family couldn’t bare to raise a being burdened with powers. She was a child herself, naivety leaving adoption as the only logical decision.

A foster home decides to take him in, raising him from infancy without any awareness of any abnormality. It’s where he stays for the first nine years of his life, a cosy house in Oregon that housed five other children. But the dormancy of his powers didn’t stay concealed forever. It started with his foster siblings sleepwalking, Lenox’s dreams imprinting on them accidentally as they’d trample through the house enthralled by the vivid illusions of his fantasy worlds. Then it began intertwining into everyday life, emotional outbursts of temper alluding unsafe situations like fire or monsters that hid under the bed. Games became near impossible to differentiate between make believe and reality from the second he joined in.

“You’re unsafe,” it’s a comment he’d gladly wear as a badge of honour once he’d matured. But to the little boy being dragged away from his foster family, betrayed by his caregivers and turned in for research, the words grazed his skin like stinging nettles.

The four plain walls of the room only further ignite an overly active imagination, a tool that was dangerous to have with a power like his own. The eleven years he spends there does the opposite of what society would have hoped, boredom allows for focus and practice, it sharpens his talents and he’s able to put them to good use. By the end of his stay the doctors had favoured him among the rest, because he wills it so. They go easy on him, carefully placed illusions write false notes on his reports. Detailed and intricate enough so that he doesn’t get caught out, handwriting remarkably identical to each nurse or scientist that take their turn testing on him. He starts to admire the way it feels, too chaotic to be part of society and embedded with more potential than anyone could have known.

It’s when that potential reaches a point where imagination can no longer be imprisoned by those four walls that he decided enough was enough. The process of discharging himself was a meticulous operation. Theatrically staged and miraculously timed with an annual cell collecting test. Before he can be sedated he’s enticed the nurses into an imaginary induced coma, deep enough into his intoxication that he can use the poisoned needle on them. The theater only has the two women on the floor when the doctor enters, sly projections manipulating each person he’d bumped into on his way to the exit into that same sleep, a psychedelic world of kaleidoscope landscapes and stained glass colours, once awakening they would never see this boy again.

“You’re unsafe,” the same words, just a different context. An ally ushers him to leave Oregon and head to Chicago. A place where policies were loosened and his own kind somewhat tolerated.

The new city put Lenox’s own fresh start in full swing.

Fragile reality was a vehicle for his reinvention, so easily malleable that to change it was simpler and more natural to him than breathing. He’s masterful in the way it’s applied, diminishing a past life of shame and grit in place of high strung worth and superiority. He’d created himself with utter royalty, his own nobility evident by the way in which he moved, regally eloquent and unmistakably celestial to anyone who crossed his path.

He builds his career on the sins he knows other’s desire. Selling crushed up aspirin as a party drug in the underbelly of the city’s night clubbing scene, using his power to make it seem as if it were the legitimate stuff and not something that cost him a couple bucks from the convenience store across the street. Lenox could make them see whatever he wanted, turn their evenings into a production of his own design and leave with none of the being any wiser. It’s how Benjamin Granger catches word of him, a supposed mutant that was living life as if he were a king. He’s the first person to ever acknowledge his capability, strikes him up an offer he couldn’t refuse. Drawn like a moth to a flame after the minor suggestion of power and the infatuation that he was finally wanted by someone and to belong to something.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Chance Matthews: He’s the face he can’t erase from his mind, the curve of his lips engraved in deep fixations when he couldn’t fall asleep on a Sunday night. Perhaps it’s the fact that he shouldn’t do it that makes it more enticing, a lust to ignite underlying passion to unearth exactly what they had both been burying.

Jordan Rojas: Jordan is somewhat of a curiosity for Lenox to unpick. A closed book that is intriguing because of their close association together. Always keen to show his worth, to prove himself to those around him, perhaps it’s a dangerous combination should Jordan utilise the other’s naivety in combination of his powers in the way that Benjamin does.

Jack Mizuno: He likes that he can get so deep into their head, that he can have full control of a world that wasn’t Jack’s domain. It’s all to do with power and annoyance, a deep craving to see exactly how far he can push people before they hit their breaking point. Even then, it’s fun to flip that breaking point into a place of pure bliss and drop it again just when his subject is at ease. He’s like a lab rat, someone he tries his tricks on before taking them to the main show.

EXTRA:

https://stereotypicalcancerwrites.tumblr.com/tagged/ch:%20lenox%20syed

(tba, watch this space I legit SPAM my character tags hard)

Lenox spends a lot of his spare time writing and doodling. It’s all extremely sketchy, there’s never any sort of final draft. It helps his imagination, which is a much exercised tool in his life.

He is probably more invested in mental health than most. Meditation and yoga being a crucial part of his daily routine after a bowl full of sugar packed cereal.

He’s naive and eager to please anyone that might create a bond with him, he craves companionship after never really understanding it due to the absence of it in his life.

Lenox works as a part-time playwright, using his illusions to improve the production of his stories and only ever receiving the best reviews from critics.

He also works as a drug dealer, never selling legitimate stuff but using over the counter medicines with the combination of his powers to masquerade as the real stuff.

He has an unruly sweet tooth. He keeps lollipops in his back pocket and will order dessert off a menu at a restaurant instead of a main meal. His favourite thing on the planet is warm cookie dough and ice cream.

He listens exclusively to Grunge music. Celebrity Skin by Hole is his absolute jam and he only ever sings Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet is his go to karaoke song.

Lenox is openly proud of his sexuality as a homosexual, though he’ll flirt with anyone and anything for the fun of it.

He prefers tea over coffee.

He’s a bit of a poetry dork, he collects first edition poetry books and his most prized possession is a first edition of Howl and Other Poems by Allen Ginsberg.

He’s very judgemental of how others present themselves and will tell you if your new shirt is ugly.

Lenox lives in a small apartment, anyone that enters he’s carefully to make them see it as 3 times bigger than it actually is with far more light.

He has a fear of heights.

ANYTHING ELSE: Did you have any questions or any changes you wanted to discuss with us beforehand?

Nope all good!!!

#accepted #accepted: ariel

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zi-tales · 6 years

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Interview: Aum Yzyrlid

#dnd

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carriejonesbooks · 6 years

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When I was a kid at Bates College, I spent a lot of my time feeling like less. My family had been kind of poor after my step-father died. My nana would stand in line to get us big orange blocks of commodity cheese for the week to supplement our $30 grocery budget Every week my mom would yell at her that we didn’t need that. She always took it.

My mom didn’t answer the phone because she was so afraid of credit card companies calling. She’d make me do it and lie that she wasn’t there.

I still hate answering the phone, even the cell phone, even when it has caller ID.

Anyway, when I went to college I wanted to forget all that. I wanted to be an intellectual like everyone else. I wanted to have gone to private school in Manhattan or Conneticut, have a summer home in the Hamptons and clothes that weren’t from K-Mart, which was sort of the WalMart equivalent back then, but worse.

I got over all that because I knew it was pretty shallow. What I had a harder time getting over was class issues that had less to do with materialism and more to do with hatred and intellectual history.

In one of my directing classes, one of the sexier straight guys actually announced about Beckett, “People who are not wealthy don’t care about this. A truck driver doesn’t watch public television or listen to NPR. They don’t care, they’re too busy humping and eating and drinking.”

My dad was a truck driver. He watched public television. He listened to NPR. I didn’t want to think about him humping. He ate food. He didn’t drink. His parents had been prohibitionists.

In one of my playwrighting classes the professor announced, “The working people of this country don’t give a shit about nuclear power. They don’t give a shit about a man of color.”

When I was in elementary school my dad would bring him with him to protest the same nuclear power plant that my step dad was helping to build. He helped me try to get New Hampshire to recognize Martin Luther King Day and do a hundred other civil rights things. He cared.

And one of my college friends would love to say, “Carrie is too poor to be pro intellectual.”

He’s a minister now. That still doesn’t make what he said right.

And one of my female poetry teachers told me over and over again, her voice trilling up with her patrician accent, “Carrie, you have the potential to be a poet, but your voice is too raw, not refined, not artistic enough.”

My voice was poor. My cadence was public school. I was not from rich. Every sentence I spoke showed that.

They still do.

Those are just four of the incidents that made me both angry and intimidated and focused, but in the back of my head it just inflamed my self doubt. I could never be a poet because I wasn’t wealthy, private-school educated, my parents weren’t intellectuals. I could never move people with words because my words were too stark and my sentences too short. I would never fit in because I didn’t have the background that most of the other students had.

And then two things happened. I read Sherman Alexie, a not-wealthy Spokane and Coeur d’Alene who despite his issues with women, impacted me positively. Maybe because I never met him.

And I met Seamus Heaney in real life.

Seamus Heaney came to our college at the invitation of Robert Farnsworth, who was an awesome poet and professor. He met with students, he gave a reading and we all got to hang out with him at a reception.

“I can’t go,” I told my boyfriend at the time.

He bit into his pizza. He was always eating pizza. “Why not?”

“Because it’s Seamus Heaney,” I answered staring at the little bits of sausage on the pizza before I plucked them off.

“So?”

“Seamus Heaney!”

“So?”

I didn’t know how to explain. Seamus Heaney was THE poet, the Nobel Prize winner. He was Irish for God’s sake. Those people were gifted with words. They had so many amazing poets… Heaney, Yeats, Wilde, Clarke, Moore. I was from New Hampshire. We had Robert Frost but pretty much every New England state tried to claim him.

Heaney wrote things like:

“A hunger-striker’s father

stands in the graveyard dumb.

The police widow in veils

faints at the funeral home.

History says, Don’t hope

on this side of the grave.

But then, once in a lifetime

the longed for tidal wave

of justice can rise up,

and hope and history rhyme.”

You will regret it if you don’t go,” my boyfriend said. “I’m going to just be playing Leisure Suit Larry anyway.”

So, I went, as anxious as if I was going on stage myself. Heaney transfixed me with his amazing baritone and bear-like presence. And his words… Of course his words… And when I met him afterwards, I was terrified until he grabbed my hand in his and said, “So you are a poet?”

And I said, “No.”

And all he did was nod and say, “Oh, yes you are.”

But in his eyes was this knowing, this connection, and maybe it wasn’t really there. Maybe I just saw it because I wanted him to understand me, because I wanted someone to get who I was and who I wanted to be. Or maybe not?

I don’t know, but one second later my professor said, “Oh, yes she is. I told you about her. She is like you.”

And then one of them said something about growing up not wealthy and I can’t remember the exact words, but what I do remember is that I finally felt understood. Later, I looked up Seamus Heaney’s past, about how his dad was a farmer and neither of his parents were big on words really, not in the intellectual way that everyone in college seemed to be. I found out that he was like me a little bit not because he was a poet and I was trying so desperately hard to write just one decent poem, but because we were both human, that we both came from humble places, that we both looked in people’s eyes when we said hello.

And that was enough for me. That was enough for me to believe in myself.

Seamus Heaney performed a miracle when I met him. He made me believe that I could be whatever the hell I wanted to be and that it didn’t matter how hard I had to fight or work or not fit in. What mattered was that I wanted the miracle of being a writer, of metamorphosis from Carrie the poor neurotic kid from Bedford, New Hampshire into Carrie Jones, the neurotic best-selling author who lives on the coast of Maine.

He gave hope and miracles in his poems and in his person and I am so thankful for his existence and so sorry for the world’s loss.

“The main thing is to write

for the joy of it. Cultivate a work-lust

that imagines its haven like your hands at night

dreaming the sun in the sunspot of a breast.

You are fasted now, light-headed, dangerous.

Take off from here. And don’t be so earnest.”

I wrote this post back in 2013 when Seamus Heaney died, but in one of my student packet’s this week, I referenced Heaney and then yesterday I saw this Liam Neeson video (randomly) where he was talking about Heaney, so… there you go. I’ve reposted it.

Here’s Seamus Heaney reading his own poem, “Blackberry Picking.”

Do Good Wednesday

Scary, right?

People are fixing it.

You can help with poetry and kids. These images are from Get Lit’s website and Get Lit is making a difference.

“Get Lit was founded in 2006 after Diane Luby Lane created a one-woman show about the power of words and toured colleges with iconic Chicano poet Jimmy Santiago Baca. After the show closed, she couldn’t bear the thought of cutting off the work completely. She started teaching classic and spoken word poetry in two high schools, Fairfax and Walt Whitman. When the semester ended… the students wouldn’t leave. They insisted on meeting after school. The rest is history. Today, the curriculum has expanded to almost 100 schools, and the Get Lit Players are the most watched poets on the internet. Curriculum requests flow in from Mexico to New Zealand.”

Get Lit “uses poetry to increase literacy, empower youth, and inspire communities.”

Get Lit works – 98% of Get Lit Players go to college, and 70% get scholarships!

Here are Get Lit’s specific needs and how you can get involved.

Writing News

Carrie’s super excited about the upcoming TIME STOPPERS book coming out this August.

This middle grade fantasy series happens in Acadia National Park in Bar Harbor, Maine and it’s all about friendship and magic and kids saving their magical town.

An imaginative blend of fantasy, whimsy, and suspense, with a charming cast of underdog characters . . . This new fantasy series will entice younger fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson.” – School Library Journal

“Sticks the landing . . . The world building is engaging . . . between the decidedly wonderful residents and the terrifying monsters who plague them.” – BCCB

“Amid the magic, spells, adventure, and weirdness of this fantasy are embedded not-so-subtle life lessons about kindness, friendship, and cooperation.” – Booklist

“A wild and fresh take on fantasy with an intriguing cast of characters. Dangerous and scary and fun all rolled into one. In the words of Eva the dwarf, I freaking loved it!” – Lisa McMann, New York Times bestselling author of The Unwanteds series

“Effervescent, funny, and genuine.” – Kirkus Reviews

It’s quirky. It’s awesome. It’s full of heart. You should go by the first two books now. 🙂

Time Stoppers

Time Stopper Series

Time Stoppers Front and Back Covers – US versions

CARRIE’S BOOKS

For a complete round-up of Carrie’s 16-or-so books, check out her website. And if you like us, or our podcast, or just want to support a writer, please buy one of those books, or leave a review on a site like Amazon. Those reviews help. It’s all some weird marketing algorhthym from hell, basically.

OUR PODCAST

Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness as we talk about random thoughts, writing advice and life tips.

We’re sorry we laugh so much… sort of. Please share it and subscribe if you can.

Please rate and like us if you are feeling kind, because it matters somehow.

Love

The Poet Who Saw Me – Wednesday Writing Wisdom When I was a kid at Bates College, I spent a lot of my time feeling like less.

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