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im-done-with-this-im-out · 1 year

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Protective (J.T x F!Reader) P.T2

Here you go @p4inis . The (not so) long awaited sequel to Protective. I didn't do any actual smut this time around but if anyone wants to see some send me a request!

WARNINGS: Sexual innuendos, allusions to smut, Jason Todd being the best boyfriend ever, Alcohol, Smoking, Cussin, SEXUAL HARRASMENT, Reader gets slapped on the ass, Misogny, R@pe culture, violence, jason punches a POS, Jason definitly has a daddy kink....

"That's much better."

“Oh is it now?” He teases. Jason walks into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid. “Honestly I thought the first one was better.”

“Oh really?” you saw, pulling out your foundation, highlighter and concealer. You pull the beauty blender out of the drawer as well. Turning on the sink, you wet the beauty blender with lukewarm water.

“Oh absolutely babes.” Jason pulls out a lipstick and your eyeshadow pallet. “I say you go with a classic red lip tonight.”

“You want red lips too mister?” You say, taking the back of the beauty blender to apply the three pumps of foundation you put on the back of your hand. Blending it out you say “If not I'd put that lipstick back babes.”

“Why.” he says, looking at the packaging of the tube, trying to see if there is some sort of marking that says he would get red lips too. During this time you open your concealer and use the wand to apply the product.

“That lipstick transfers like a motherfucker. Get the liquid lipstick in there. The Huda Beauty one.” you blend the concealer out with the tip of the sponge, making sure to get under your eyes as well.

“This ones the one I bought you for our anniversary right?” he asks. Pulling out the tube from the drawer, he places it on the counter.

“Yeah. The one you claimed was, and I quote, ‘way too damn expensive’.” Placing the cap back on the contour stick you take the other side of the beauty blender to blend the product out. “Can you get me my setting powder and brush?”

“Yeah.” Jason reaches into the drawer once more, this time returning with the products you asked for. “God that fucking lipstick was way to damn expensive though.” he places hte items next to the lipstick.

“Yeah 20 fucking dollars was way to damn much for someting i barely ever have the occasion to wear.” you pick up the setting powder and grab the powder puff inside, baking below your eyes, between your eyebrows, over your nose, on your chin and in the center of your forehead. “I’m honestly surprised you bought it for me in the first place. I was joking about needing it.”

“Shit, really?” he laughs

“Yeah. I wasn't even really expecting you to even remember I said something about it.”

“I'm honestly so hurt that you think I don't remember stuff like that.” Jason places a hand over his heart, pretending as if he was shot in the chest. “I literally read and annotate books for you.”

“True.”You grab the pallet out of Jason's lap and grab two brushes out of the drawer. “But it was so menial and we were watching tv.” You open the eyeshadow and grab the fluffy brush and get some of a light brown on it, blending it out all over your eye.

“I have entire notes on my phone filled with things you say you like or want.”

“Really?” You ask, now grabbing a darker brown to blend into your outer corner.

“Oh yeah. I'm constantly adding shit to them. Like the Baby Yoda Squishmallow we saw at Costco last week.” he says. He remembers how your eyes lit up when you saw the massive plushie. The way you would stare at it every time you passed by once or twice trying to subtly touch the plush.

“Oh my fucking god, I didnt even say anything about that though! How do you know about that?” lastly you take a small brush with some black eyeshadow and place it directly on your waterline, lashline and in a general wing shape, before blending it out.

“I can read you like a book my love.” Jason look s at you with admiration. Watching as you pull your eyeliner out of the drawer and draw near perfect wings on your eyes. “And god help me if you aren't my most favorite thing i've ever read.”

“You are just the sweetest Jason Todd.” You look over at him. He's sitting there staring at you, watching you with all the admiration in the world. “God I love you Jase.” You say as you lean in to kiss him on the lips.

“I love you too, princess.” he says. Turning away from him with a smile, you grab the lipstick, applying a layer of the red liquid to your lips. “You look so kissable right now. God, I love your lips.” you look over at him and give him a slight smile.

“And I love the taste that comes out of both sets.” he says with a smirk.

“Jason!” you turn around blushing. You grab your eyebrow pencil and begin filling in the shapes. “What did I say? If you keep it in your pants all night i'll let you do whatever you want with me when we get home.”

“Don't have to tell me twice.” he stands up. “Imma go start the car and get a blunt rolled. I left the jacket on your bed.”

“Okay i'll be down in just a minute.” you respond. You grab your eyelash curler and make a few quick passes on both eyes, before grabbing the mascara and applying two coats.

You throw everything back into the drawer and grab your lipstick and the necklace you left on the counter. Walking into your closet, you grab a pair of silver heels You had bought a couple of years back. Grabbing the jacket Jason left on your bed, you grab your keys, turn off the lights, and lock up the apartment.

The Galla is loud and boisterous. Dozens of people from Gotham are here, mostly upper class old white men and their families, but a decent amount of paparazzi and the Wayne Scholars.

“I forget how fucking annoying these things are.” Jason complains. He lightly pulls on his tie, loosening it slightly to alleviate some of the pressure.

“You also don't like a majority of people.” you respond.

The night had been fun so far. Once you had arrived at the party, Jason dropped the keys to one of Bruces’ Rolls Royces’ with the valet and ushered you inside, past the blinding flashing lights of the cameras.

When you both finally made it inside you had quickly done the obligatory meet and greet with at least 15 people and quickly shuffled off towards the bar. There Jason had gotten himself a Whiskey on the rocks and you a tequila Martini.

Now, both of you hid in the northern corner of the room, at a small table nursing your drinks. “You don’t care for most people either sweetheart.”

“True, but I'm better at hiding it than you.” you take the last sip of your martini and stand from your chair. “I'm gonna go get myself a margarita. I'll be right back, baby.” You leave a small peck on his cheek before making your way over to the bar.

“What can I get for you Mrs. Todd?” Alex joked. You had known Alex for years, having gone to highschool with him and even having scored the leading parts in your school's play during your guys’ senior year.

“A strawberry margarita please Alex.” you smile at him.

“Coming right up babes.” Alex winks at you. His affection had never been anything more than friendly. Alex had come out to you as AroAce in your sophomore year.

You had allowed yourself to get lost in memories of the past before a voice cut your train of thought short.

“Hey pretty lady. Are you here alone?” The voice was gravely and hoarse, tainted with decades of life.

“No actually. I'm here with my boyfriend.” You respond. You shift in your seat, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible without being seen as rude.

“He couldn't take care of you like I could.” The man places his hand on your thigh, Slowly inching it upward. “I could take care of you in ways you could never imagine.”

“Here’s your margarita Mrs. Todd.” Alex says sliding the glass towards you, making direct eye contact with the old man next to you.

“Todd? You're here with Wayne's Son?” The man asks.

“Yeah, I thought it would be obvious with the leather jacket but I guess not.” You snark back. You stand up and turn around to walk back to Jason when you feel something small and sharp hit your ass.

“Fucking excuse me?” You look up to see Jason standing right behind you. “What the fuck do you think gives you the right to touch someone else like that huh?” Jason lightly pushes you to the side as to put him right in front of the grimey old man.

“She was asking for it wearing a dress like that.” Jason clenches his fists at the comment.

“I'm sorry, what now?” Jason asks. Jason starts to stand taller, shifting his weight and getting closer to the man now. The interaction quickly gained a crowd of paparazzi and Guests alike.

You softly grab Jason's right hand, holding it between yours and rubbing small patterns on back. “Baby leave him. He's just an ignorant old man. He-”

“He Fucking touched you, the ugly ass fossil deserves to be beat to a pulp.” Jason seethes. The man visibly grows angry at the disrespect.

“Who you calling old, brat?” The man now stands up, barley coming up to jason's nose.

“You. So step off or this will get ugly.” Jason warns, pulling you behind him, now holding your hands with his left. Jason puffs up bigger, trying to intimidate the man into fucking off.

“If she wants to dress like a prostitute then she will be treated like one. She deserves everything I did to her the Whor-” The man didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before Jason punches him square in the nose. The punch breaks the geezer's nose as well as knocking him out cold.

“Come on baby. Let's get out of here.” you pull jason along, pulling him out the back of the venue, towards the parking lot the valets were using. “Let's go home please.”

“When we get outside, take your heels off and jump on my back.” Jason instructs.

“Yes, sir.” You respond. Jason lets a small ‘fuck’ out before just picking you up bridal style and kicking the door open. Jason proceeds to run towards the elevator spamming the button for the basement, where Bruce leaves some of his extra civilian cars.

“You're taking one of Bruce's?”

“It's faster than trying to track down the damn valet with my keys.” He responds. When Jason gets to the audi R8 he opens the passenger side door and sets you down gently before closing the door and running around towards the drivers side.

“Take me home, Jase.” You say when he starts the engine.

“Anything for my princess.”

When you finally arrive back at your apartment, Jason pushes you up against the wall in the entrance way.both hands on your waist “Did that bastard hurt you?”

“No sir. I'm okay.” You respond, Jason pulls his left hand from your hip and places it on your neck, applying a small amount of pressure.

“Stop fucking calling me that or ill ruin you here and now.” Jasons’ pupils are blown wide, his hands shaking slightly and the bulge in his pants grows more noticeable by the second.

“What, are you gonna punish me?” You tease. Jason tightens his grip on your throat. He shoves your legs apart with his knee and places it right up against your clit.

“I said dont fucking try me princess.” You giggle a bit before he speaks again. “Im not in the fucking mood so dont.”

“Or what? You gonna ruin me?” Jason pushes his knee up, pushing it harder against your pussy

“That can be arranged,” he whispers. His whole body is shaking at this point, the mix of the adrenaline and the pure lust he feels clouding his mind.

“Then ruin me daddy.”

Those four words spark something in Jason and before you know it, you're being thrown over his shoulder and tossed on your bed.

“Just remember princess, you asked for this.”

#jason todd #red hood #arkham knight #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #jasontoddxreader #redhoodxreader #arkhamknightxreader #DC #DCEU

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kadavernagh · 1 month

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Stripes down to your turtleneck || Regan & Felix

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Stripe Club (?) PARTIES: Regan & Felix SUMMARY: Felix found an upscale turtleneck store and they're going with Regan to get some new turtlenecks. It's not an upscale turtleneck store. CONTENT: Animal abuse allusions

“I bet behind that other curtain, there’s a whole section of — of turtlenecks and hats. And — And maybe other things! Jackets! I bet there’s so many jackets!”

Throughout their time living in Wicked’s Rest as an adult, Felix had found their help requested for a variety of different tasks. They’d assisted several people with moves, often earning a free pizza for their troubles. They’d done odd jobs for little more than a thank you and a pat on the back. They’d lent money to near strangers with promises of repayment they’d never seen. They didn’t mind it. It felt good to be useful, to have a purpose. They sought it out themself, sometimes, asked directly if they could help people with things. It made them feel good in a way not many things seemed to, these days.

So they were excited for the prospect of doing so for Dr. Kavanagh. She seemed kind enough, and she’d let them take care of her lawn already. If she needed help buying a turtleneck for her upcoming trip to Ireland, who was he to say no? Felix stood outside the store they’d found with a quick online search, waiting for her approach. When they saw her, they waved.

“I think they only sell striped turtlenecks,” they admitted, nodding to the tasteful sign on the door. “But they might have plain black or white ones, too. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to find a store that just sold turtlenecks!” The ad they’d found for this one had been… a little weird, but they were pretty sure they’d read it correctly. Necks had been mentioned several times. What else could it be? “Are you ready?”

------

Saol Eile was sorely lacking in fine clothes in general, and turtlenecks were a rarity. Regan never had the luxury of being choosy with color and material. So she needed to stock up, really stock up, before moving back. She had every neutral under the beigebow, black turtlenecks, green ones, white ones, and that fancy turtleneck that came from the website Siobhan tipped her off to (how aggravating that one was so soft; she swallowed down bitterness whenever she looked at it). She even had multiple of each color specifically so she could modify one set (a nice way of saying mutilate with holes) and spare the other. But she still lacked the classic striped turtleneck.

How fortunate that she met someone who was just as normal and boring as she was. Felix was one of the most sensible humans she had met, and she could think of no better person who could provide assistance. They had already proven themselves useful by finding a store specializing in striped turtlenecks. It sounded exclusive, too. Club always added that flair. Regan gave Felix a pleased nod (they were just about what she had pictured… maybe a little taller, and with worse posture, and a nice scar for added intrigue). Their eyes registered mostly confusion and the way their eyes scanned all around reminded Regan of Van when the child was overwhelmed, which was most of the time. Regan fixed the collar on her current turtleneck – a plain white one, intended to provide an example of her fashion sense so they could compare options to a baseline.

“I’m impressed you managed to find this place,” Regan said, looking up at the sign, almost contentedly. “I find that stores specializing in one niche product must be truly excellent at producing it. So I will have the best striped turtleneck in Ireland.” That made her feel less content. More hollow. But she pushed through it just as she pushed through the door.

And they were greeted with… silence. There was no ringing bell ushering them in, and it was dark, with strobing white lights that covered the entire interior with black and white stripes. There also appeared to be dark curtains framing a much larger area, where she could see the movement of dozens of people and spotlights waving around. It looked like a nightclub. Weird. She turned to an employee – who was wearing head to toe stripes and waving excitedly at the two of them. As Regan got closer, he seemed to pull back. Startled. Maybe scared. Regan looked at Felix, brow pushed together. “This is a strange turtleneck store, but I don’t get out much. They might have changed substantially in recent years.” She turned to ask the employee about it but he shrank away. “Um, maybe you should… ask.”

------

Felix preened a little under the praise. An old habit, and a bad one; they had always been something of a people pleaser, always responded to situations with raised voices by trying to placate and correct their own actions rather than holding other people accountable for theirs. But Dr. Kavanagh offered the compliment with no expectations, and Felix liked that, even if it was a small thing. It made them feel all the better about helping her out with this particular mission, made him want to find a good turtleneck that much more. The one she was wearing now was nice. Felix wondered if they should use it as a blueprint while browsing.

“I think you’re right,” they agreed. “When a store specializes in one thing, it means they can spend a lot of time making it better.” How did one make a turtleneck better? Felix wasn’t actually sure. Softer material? Sturdier? More… neck? All seemed to be options for what Regan might be looking for. “I bet, um… I bet everyone in Ireland will want to know where you got it.” Was it the right thing to say? He wasn’t sure. Something seemed to cross over her features at the mention of her move, and Felix wondered absently why she was going. A familial obligation, maybe? They could relate to that. They thought of their father’s cabin, tucked away in the woods where they’d never wanted to be but had stayed anyway. Family could make you do all kinds of things you didn’t want to do. Sometimes, Felix wondered if that was all family really was.

Shaking the thought from their mind, they offered Regan another smile and nodded, following her through the door to the turtleneck shop. But… the inside wasn’t quite what they’d expected. Felix blinked as he glanced around, struggling to see in the dark with the disorientation of the flashing lights throwing them off. It would be difficult to find a good turtleneck at this rate. How were they supposed to make sure it was the right one when they’d barely be able to see it? And the silence was… weird. It looked like there should have been music playing, something with a beat that shook the walls and the floor, but there was nothing. You could have heard a pin drop.

Felix looked to the employee, who seemed happy to see them only until Regan got close. When she spoke, it seemed to echo through the quiet space. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it might as well have been deafening. Whatever silence existed here was heavy, blocking out every hint of street noise from outside. “Uh…” Felix whispered without meaning to, afraid to break the silence. “Yeah. I’ve never been to a turtleneck store, so… maybe this is how they are?” They shifted their weight, nodding at her suggestion and walking over to the employee. Offering a hesitant smile, they nodded. The employee relaxed a little, then nodded back. “We’re looking for… the turtlenecks?” Felix said softly. The employee smiled again, nodding and saying nothing. Felix turned back to Regan with an expression of confusion.

------

“Yes, um, I’ve never been in such a specialty store. This might be customary. Remind me how you found this place? Good reviews? It’s… unique. Maybe this is what Marcy means when she says a store is boogie.” If Felix did not find this unsettling, Regan decided that she would not either. She could look past the lighting, the wall to wall stripes. What she did not like was the employee trying to scramble away from the two of them, like he was in the presence of a monster. Regan’s mouth open to ask if he was okay, and his eyes grew so wide his beret toppled off his head. Her mouth closed. Self-conscious, she tapped her neck to make sure her necklace was still secure – there as ever. So what was he afraid of? Regan shook her head. Best to forge ahead. She waved to Felix to follow and pushed through the velvet curtains.

Silence could be loud, Regan knew. She felt it vibrating in her skull after each scream, the way the world seemed to stand still, like it was stuck in Saol Eile's famous tar pit. This was like that, but far more uncanny – a barely-remembered dream. Or nightmare. All of the weird, individual pieces of the room and their situation began to come together. Though she had never gone for recreational purposes, this was not her first time in what looked like a strip club. This was the first time there wasn’t a body to collect, though. There were stripes on every surface and dozens of mimes sat and stood silently around a stage with a bar and some tables. The harsh spotlight made the center of attention obvious: a scantily-clad mime, possessing only a few stripes on its body, prowled onto the stage, each flick of the wrist and curl of the lips exaggerated and unfamiliar. Regan couldn’t look away. The mime continued down a catwalk, and for a second, it seemed to lock eyes with Felix. What was it – she watched with equal parts fascination and horror as it slowly, almost teasingly, peeled one of the stripes off.

She must have gasped. And it must have been louder than she thought. At once, it was more than just the center mime looking at them. There were about 30 pairs of fearful eyes turned in their direction. “We’re… looking for turtlenecks. Is this the right place?”

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“Right. I bet it’s, like… a European thing.” Were turtlenecks European? Felix thought they remembered some painting or artwork years ago of Frenchmen in turtlenecks, with their little hats resting atop their heads. And, come to think of it, wasn’t that employee over there wearing a French-looking hat? This was probably just some sort of French store. It felt French, really. Satisfied with the explanation, Felix nodded to themself. “Uh, yeah. It had… crazy good reviews. No, um, words in any of them, but they were all five stars? And nobody has all five star reviews, right? So they must be great.” Even if the employees were a little jumpy. Maybe they didn’t get many customers? It could have spooked them, having two people walk in off the street if they usually went days without seeing any customers at all. Felix hoped they weren’t patrons of the Grit Pit, seeing him and fearing Wildcat, but most of them seemed more afraid of Dr. Kavanagh than anything. Maybe they knew she was a turtleneck expert and were afraid she might tank their review score if they failed to find her a suitable turtleneck?

Mind spinning with ways to explain away the strangeness of it all, Felix let themself lead the way further into the room. He was not a confident person. In fact, he was quite the opposite. Felix tended to second guess every move they made, tended to wonder if they were breathing wrong with each inhale. That was no different here, in this strange turtleneck store. Each step forward was careful and cautious, like they expected to be thrown out on the street for allowing their foot to touch the wrong patch of carpet. A few of the employees watched them, glancing back to Dr. Kavanagh warily every few seconds as she followed. Felix glanced up, spotting a stage with a… strangely dressed person who was looking right at them and… were they taking off their skin? Felix paled, looking away just as the stranger began to contort their body around an invisible pole, bringing a leg up at an impossible angle and spinning around something that didn’t visibly exist.

Dr. Kavanagh broke the silence, and the relief was crushing. One of the employees was pushed forward by a few others, trembling as he stepped forward. He crossed the room, coming over to Regan and pressing a finger against her lips in a shushing motion. Another took Felix by the hand, tugging them back towards another curtain. More relief broke through, and they looked back to Dr. Kavanagh. “The turtleneck displays must be through that curtain,” they said, still in a whisper. “This is probably just… the greeter section. Like, um, like they have at Walmart?”

------

In the time it took to blink, the mimes had Felix. Regan was slow to notice, too preoccupied with the mime that had pulled up right in front of her face, and dared touch a finger to her. Humans had no right (except one). They needed to keep their oily fingers off of her (except one). Regan swiped the mime away like the irritating gnat it was, and that was when she realized Felix was gone. She could hear them, though. Something about a different section… wait, they found the turtlenecks? Of course. They had to be here. All of those reviews needed to make some kind of sense.

The mimes parted for her, seemingly pleased (despite some of them having painted tears on their faces) that Regan was going in the desired direction anyway, in search of Felix. She pushed through more long velvet curtains and had to marvel at the sheer size of this place, and how much smaller it looked from the outside. This appeared to be behind the stage, more curtains providing a barrier and sparing them from that catwalk. They were closed. Not a priority. She'd find Felix and they would leave before that spotlight would ever strike them (and maybe purchase some turtlenecks on the way out if they could actually find any).

The mimes were silently buzzing, moving this way and that in the most dramatic of fashions. As Regan continued to carve her way through them, many glared in her direction. A few shook. “Felix?”

It took her too long to realize that not everyone back here was a mime. There was Felix, sitting on a lone stool in the middle of a sea of black and white. They had two mimes hunched over them, one gesturing like he was painting something and the other holding something flat. Together, they gave the impression of an artist with a brush and some paint.

The mimes were painting Felix.

She needed to end this. “Hey, come on. This is a terrible store. I can't find a single item for sale, and everyone is greasy. Stop this. We are leaving.” The mimes scattered like ants for a second but a few brave ones approached. Put their hands on her. “Do not touch me,” Regan snapped, as the mimes shoved her forward, making a strange gesture in the air between them like they were locking a door. The biggest mime tipped his head back, opened his mouth, and dropped the invisible key down his gullet. Regan snarled and a scream was quickly conjured by her lungs, but when she opened her mouth, she heard the screech, but no one else was covering their ears or flinching away. What? And why did it sound like an echo? Like the sound was bouncing around her. She tried again, blasting the closer mime with a scream that should have made the shingles fall from the roof. But nothing. She just turned toward Regan, a grotesque smile pulling the makeup across half her face, and showing her impossibly white teeth. “Did you take my scream from me?” Regan asked sharply, but her voice sounded like an echo, too, and once more, no one seemed to hear her. “Hey, I’m trying to speak to–” She walked forward intending to approach the mime, and walked face-first into a flat, invisible surface.

------

Felix was expecting something pretty specific as they were led behind the magical curtain. Rows and rows of turtlenecks, fashionably displayed on mannequins in intimidating poses. But as they were tugged further and further into the back room, they couldn’t help but note a very distinctive lack of turtlenecks. In fact, there were zero turtlenecks. Felix was beginning to think that they might have misunderstood the function of this store, and they were trying to think of a polite way to bow out. Maybe they could buy something small at the register? It seemed mean to leave a store without buying anything at all, didn’t it?

Except… where was the register, exactly? Felix glanced around, but they didn’t see anything that resembled a checkout counter. “Hey, um, what —” One of the employees pushed them gently onto a black and white striped stool. “What do you guys sell here? We, uh, we’re in the market for… something. We’re not sure what yet! But if you tell us what you sell, maybe we can buy it from you!” One of the employees held up their hand as if there was something in it, though there was nothing Felix could see. Were they displaying their inventory? Why was it invisible?

They were surprised when the employee began making strange gestures over their body, feeling the sensation of being touched without seeing anything making contact. Felix blinked again, looking down. They were painting him, somehow. With invisible brushes? And every place those brushes ‘touched’ somehow became utterly devoid of colors. Their shirt had been a bright green when they’d entered, but now there were splotches of monochrome without a hint of its original vibrance. What kind of invisible paint were they using? Was it washable? Felix really liked this shirt.

Regan entered the backroom then, and Felix shot her a look of desperation. They really didn’t want to be rude, but they weren’t enjoying their time at this not-a-turtleneck shop as much as they had anticipated. “Oh, we should really…” One of the employees put one hand over another, somehow lifting himself off the ground and over Felix’s head, where he began painting their hair. “I think we might be in the wrong place. Right, Dr. Kavanagh?”

They turned back to Regan for support, but something strange was going on. Her mouth was open, there was a determined look on her face, but there was no sound. It happened again. Her throat was moving, but there was only silence. Then, her lips were forming words that didn’t reach Felix’s ears, and she was walking forward, her face flattening against… nothing. There was nothing there. “Is this a bit? Regan, are you doing a bit?” She didn’t seem like the kind of person who liked bits.

------

She couldn’t hear Felix, only trace the movements of their mouth with her eyes. Her head spun and it was possible she was seeing things, but even when she squinted, it looked like Felix was dolled up like one of them. Had… had Felix been lost? Did the mimes convert them? She needed to help them. Regan bounded toward Felix and– the invisible surface was still there. She forgot. Her entire body rammed into it and her vision swam with black and white speckles. The complete and utter silence of the room only made her grandmother’s disappointment pound louder. This time, she reached her hand out slowly, tentatively, and her fingertips grazed against an invisible expanse of… something. It was flat, not particularly warm nor cold, and it did not give to any amount of force from her hands. But Regan was reminded, as Cliodhna still sounded in her ears with every ache, that she was proof even the most sturdy of things could be broken.

She could at least spare Felix some humiliation. Regan placed her other hand flat against the object, ready for it this time, and screamed. And screamed some more, until her lungs stretched and her throat rasped and she needed to stop. But… nothing. Nothing happened. Regan slumped back, defeated. Some force of nature she was; she could not even destroy something so insubstantial enough to be perfectly invisible. No one even blinked, and the wall did not offer so much as a vibration. She rested her hands on her knees, panting, and as she caught her breath she saw the mimes seemed to be fawning over Felix. One in particular couldn’t get close enough, her striped, pinky-length eyelashes batting incessantly. She sauntered next to them and plucked something from the top of Felix’s head, then again from their shirt, discarding whatever it was by dropping it to the floor, cleaning them up, but then Regan couldn't see anything. She brushed Felix off one final time, then patted their back to usher them off the stool. They were ready.

Felix was understandably distracted, but Regan needed them. She banged against the side with her fists. Felix wouldn’t hear her – she was certain of that – but her message should have been obvious: get me out.

In front of them, the curtains opened.

------

There were people all around them, and it was a little overwhelming. As was the brushing of invisible paintbrushes over their skin, and the turtleneck shop employee who kept touching their hair. Felix felt sweaty all over, anxious and uncertain. They craned their neck to find Regan still standing in place, palm resting against nothing and mouth open in a silent scream. Were they deaf now? Had they lost their hearing? Subtly, they allowed their inner ear to shift to that of the jaguar, borrowing his sharp ears in an attempt to better listen to what was going on around them. But it was still silent. Everything was silent. The people painting them, Regan, the room around them. There wasn’t even any ambient noise. Didn’t buildings have air conditioners? Why couldn’t he hear anyone’s heartbeat besides his own? (Possibly because Felix’s heart was pounding in their ears, anxiety overtaking them.)

Someone grabbed them by the elbow and guided them off the stool, trying to pull them towards — was that a stage? Felix’s panic only grew at that, the anxiety at the idea of being made to perform making the panic settle in all the deeper. They felt the jaguar spirit within them stir, felt him rumble in their chest. They heard the quiet yowl that escaped their own lips, and that was good, wasn’t it? That meant they weren’t deaf.

But they might have… a slightly bigger problem.

So panicked by the prospect of a performance they hadn’t prepared for, Felix had dropped the concentration that was keeping the shifting of their ears subtle and unnoticeable. The jaguar’s ears stuck out from beneath Felix’s hair now, and their arm snapped and reformed as the shift tried to take control. Spotted fur exposed itself from beneath their sleeve, and the hand holding their arm dropped it like it was burning. The employee who had been paying the most attention to them opened her mouth in a wide o shape, pointing desperately to the stripes on her shirt and then gesturing to the spots on Felix’s arm before motioning as if she was vomiting on the stage.

Freed from the grip of the turtleneck shop employees, Felix stumbled back. Their back came into contact with something hard, and they turned to find Regan right behind them. Had they run into her? Why was she pointy? She didn’t look particularly pointy. “I think we should go!” They said, bringing a hand up to hide their mouth. They could feel the jaguar’s teeth trying to push in place of their own, and they weren’t sure how to explain that. (As if they knew how to explain the ears, or the furry arm.) Reaching out, they tried to grab Regan by the arm to pull her out… only to find themself blocked by something hard. They tried again, but the barrier remained in place. Attempting a different angle yielded a similar result.

What kind of turtleneck shop was this?

------

Regan pressed her hands flat against the cold surfaces of whatever invisible trap she was in, moving them slowly, searching for any kind of projection or something she could latch onto and pull, and the mimes on the other side – the audience – clapped silently at their entertainment. Some rose from their chairs. Some wept, silently blowing their noses into long black and white handkerchiefs. Others watched in awe. A couple bit their nails, eying Regan like she was a restless tiger pacing in a cage. Nothing. She couldn’t feel anything at all to grab. No obvious way to freedom. Her lungs spasmed, preparing another scream, but what difference would it make? Felix. She needed Felix to figure it out from the other side. Maybe they would see something she didn’t (obviously, the container she was in was doing some very novel things with light, and it probably looked different from the other side. She was not going to panic and not going to start thinking about dying in a mime cube.)

But Felix, her best hope, was stumbling across the stage, and the crowd loved it. Felix said… something. Their mouth moved. No sound emerged. Regan pressed herself up against the side of the invisible cube, trying to get a better look, see if she could beckon Felix over, but something was wrong. Other than the obvious: that they were trapped in front of a live mime audience (dead mimes would have been better). What… what was that on Felix’s arm? Spots? The mimes had been crowding Felix, powdering their face, painting stripes across their skin, but the mimes wouldn’t have done this. They would have done only stripes, not spots (unless… spotted mimes? no). So that left only one possible explanation: it was some kind of an illusion, similar to the container surrounding her on all sides. But it wasn’t just Felix’s arms. Regan squinted, at the strange pointy bits sticking out of their hair, and as they spoke through their fingers, something sharp poked through in a quick flash, before it was obscured again. She stared dumbly at what she was now realizing were ears. Like a cat. And where Felix’s ears should have been, there was nothing. What kind of illusion was this? Surely once she was out of this screadaíl box, everything would right itself.

What would Jade do? Actually, Jade would probably throw herself against the sides. Perhaps a poor role model in this case (only in this case… mostly). What about… who did she know who handled these kinds of weird situations? Emilio? No, he’d be worse than Jade. Kaden? The worst yet. Metzli? They were creative. They would think of some other way. Regan ran her hands along the wall again, but this time, she paused halfway. She thought of Metzli with their paintbrush, the expert flourishes, the way their hand moved. It wasn’t so different from miming, was it? That was her epiphany for the day. Miming and art were the same thing. And as she rotated her wrist, something round and cool pressed against her hand.

Regan opened the door. And as the mimes gaped at her from their seats, Felix’s breathing grew heavy and twisted with panic. They… their ears and arm were still… there must have been another illusion. Like a glamour. She would concern herself with it after. As for right now, the scream vibrating in her chest needed no encouragement. “Felix, cover your strange ears that I am going to examine once we’re through here.”

------

It was strange; the crowd looked as if they were cheering as Felix stumbled, but not a sound rose up from among them. Even their hands, brought together in forceful claps that, by all logic, should have resulted in the sound of thunderous applause, were eerily silent. It was hard not to feel at least a little unnerved, particularly with Regan trapped behind some kind of invisible barrier that Felix couldn’t figure out how to get around. Were they missing something here? Were they just… too stupid to understand what was going on?

They glanced to Regan again for some kind of reassurance. Regan was smart, they thought. Regan was a doctor, Regan understood things. And Regan looked just as confused as Felix did. They felt a little bad at how much comfort that brought them, but the relief was somewhat palpable all the same. If Regan was confused, too, it meant it wasn’t Felix who was wrong here. It wasn’t Felix who was stupid, it was the situation. This wasn’t the kind of thing they should have been expecting. This was not a normal turtleneck shop.

Regan reached a hand forward, and Felix spoke from behind their hands again. “I don’t think you can — there’s a —” But, to their surprise, the doctor’s hand landed on something unseen, cupping around it. She turned her hand as if turning a doorknob and, with an unexplainable rush of air that felt like an opening door, stepped forward. Felix blinked in surprise, reaching a hand out uncertainly and blinking again when it landed on her shoulder. They pulled it back immediately, all too aware of the fact that it didn’t look very human at the moment.

“I don’t… uh… What? I mean, sorry.” They reached up to the top of their head, placing their hands over their ears sheepishly. Maybe Regan was trying to protect them from being found out. They hadn’t realized she knew about balam, but she must have, right? Unless… did their ears offend her? Was she asking them to cover up because she found the jaguar’s ears unsightly? The spirit seemed offended at the very thought, haughty as he was. If he were capable of speech, Felix thought he might insist that Regan ought to be jealous of Felix’s ears. In any case, their furry paws pressed the pointed ears against their head, and they offered Regan a tight-lipped smile. “Okay, um, they’re covered. I can buy a hat or something on the way out. They probably sell those here, right?”

------

Felix was looking even stranger, more feline, especially now that Regan was closer, able to see the detail on their weird, fluffy ears, and the weight of that hand – could it be called a hand? – that had briefly been on her shoulder. Long, sharp nails left tiny divots in her sweater where they had innocently tapped. Regan’s eyes lingered over Felix for a moment, taking in each patterned spot on their arms, noting the strange articulation when they spoke, but there would be more time to discuss all of this after they got out of this place. Incidentally, Regan was about 95% sure “this place” was not a turtleneck store. “Right, uh… hats. Maybe. There might be another section.” She was equally as certain they would not have hats.

Regan stared down the mime-filled audience, her lungs burning with explosive intent. They had trapped her in some kind of box. They had… possibly made Felix look like a bizarre cat person. And most offensive of all was the way their grotesque faces stretched themselves into sheer terror whenever Regan came near them. There was a line between being deserving of respect – having her place above the humans acknowledged – and having others cower in her presence. She didn’t like the latter. Not at all. But even so, even risking a sea of fear from them one more time, she needed them gone. They kept interfering with any attempts to browse clothes (where were the clothes?) and Regan was unconvinced that the two of them would ever get out of here if drastic measures weren’t taken. Also, they probably weren’t even real. Something about this… there had been a reason her mind had turned to Jade, Emilio, and Kaden, right? This was one of those things.

Felix’s ears were covered and Regan was ready to take a chance and see what happened to these mimes when they encountered some sound. The scream was not impressive. Regan didn’t need it to be, especially in case – no, she was sure there was something wrong with these mimes. It still shattered the seemingly impenetrable silence that had filled this place since they had arrived, bouncing off striped walls and causing striped lightbulbs to crack and plummet to the floor around them. Immediately, the mimes… changed. They became something amorphous, features melting and dribbling together and silhouette losing all shape and form. A couple of them made last second futile attempts to mime something – running away, crying – but their skin and illusion of humanity melted away before they could finish. Even when Regan stopped screaming, it continued, and where that had previously been all those mimes, there was only a massive mat of bubbling black ooze, offshoots and tendrils wiggling around like silent snakes. Her eyes narrowed at the substance. It was no mystery what it was. She had seen it before, in the sewers, the alley, the “rats”. Where it came from was a much better question. But – Regan turned to Felix. “Okay, you can uncover your ears now. That was, um, weird… right? I guess it was goo the whole time. It’s always goo in this town.”

Except Felix was not there.

------

Regan was looking at them, and that was probably bad. They looked more jaguar than human at this point, could feel the spirit stirring and demanding his place in the front of their shared body now that more and more of his features were bubbling to the surface. Humanity was difficult to hold on to the more Felix shifted and, right now, it was increasingly slippery. But Felix didn’t want to shift here. They didn’t want to hurt Regan. They didn’t even particularly want to hurt the employees of the turtleneck shop, even if they had tried to paint them into being a mime. Mostly, they just wanted to leave. “I bet there is!” They said, still muffled as they tried to hide the jaguar’s teeth in their mouth. “I bet behind that other curtain, there’s a whole section of — of turtlenecks and hats. And — And maybe other things! Jackets! I bet there’s so many jackets!”

But they’d never get to the second curtain, would they? Those same employees who’d been so eager to lead them through the first curtain were cowering now. It must have been Felix’s fault, right? They were up here, on this weird raised turtleneckless turtleneck display platform, looking like half an animal and scaring a group of perfectly nice shop employees. Regan stepped forward, and Felix wondered what she was planning. Would she announce their departure? Reassure the employees somehow? Demand to be taken to the turtlenecks or the hats? Ask to speak to someone in charge? Possibilities circled through Felix’s head, questions about her intentions clear and calculated.

None of their expectations involved screaming, though.

Definitely not screaming like this. Even with their hands over their ears, it was loud and jarring and people in the audience were melting and it was all a little… much. Felix couldn’t even really blame the jaguar for the way they felt their bones snapping and reforming or the realization that their thin grasp on their human form was definitely gone now. In the chaos, a shift was expected. Inevitable, really. Luckily, the jaguar had little interest in attacking the source of the sound. Instead, his plan involved putting distance between himself and the screaming. The big cat leaped off the stage, skillfully avoiding the black goo that had once made up the employees of the turtleneck shop as he darted towards the front of the store.

------

Somehow, the ooze from the exploded mimes was slick like oil but also clinging to the bottom of her boots, threatening to pull her somewhere. Regan shivered, thinking again of tar pits, and with a heave, freed her leg, just as something big and powerful bounded right over her head and galloped toward the… entrance? Somewhere. She wasn’t clear how they got here. Was it a remaining mime, one that leaped around on all-fours (unfortunately, not a first-time sighting)? She needed to find Felix. Even though the sound had returned to this space, there was still a strange silence looming. It was possible the mimes would be back. They seemed to fear her, and this surviving four-legged one had heard what she was capable of – perhaps she could question it.

Regan sloshed across some more of the goop and pushed through the curtain she saw the creature ram past. The fabric was still swaying from the thing’s movement. “Felix? Did you see that thing? Oh, you probably – are you looking for jackets?” She had her doubts about this place being a store. A lot of doubts. In fact, she would sooner believe in the healing powers of turmeric and lavender. “Felix?” She wandered through the huge room with the catwalk, hauntingly empty now, and just as quiet, save for the sound of each of her footfalls. The mimes had perished before they could turn the club lights off, so black and white still strobed across the room, making it hard to discern any details or see what might have been cowering in each corner. Like whether Felix might be hiding somewhere in here. Maybe that was it, they were hiding? Regan disliked cowardice, but these days, her disdain was often followed by a pang of remorse for holding someone to the standards she held herself to. (She was a banshee. They were not. It was simple.)

“Where are you? If you’re hurt, I can help. I’m a…” There it was, the door they’d come from. Back into the relatively normal front of the store. And why was she still thinking of this place as a store? It was a strip club for mimes. Wasn’t that obvious by now? Regan cussed under her breath as she navigated back to the front of the not-store. You could say what you want about Saol Eile, the banshees would not put up with any of this mimery, she thought. “I have places to be, things to, uh, pack. Letters to write. Are you in here…?” Something was. And it had glowing amber eyes; huge, white teeth; and a striking yellow and black spotted coat. The animal, the cat, moved with power and grace. And as Regan’s lungs pulled in a huge breath, readying their defenses, she came to the conclusion that this was definitely not a mime.

------

The jaguar had little interest in confronting the screaming woman. He’d seen what she was capable of from just beneath the surface of Felix’s consciousness, had watched her turn humanoid beings (they smelled strange, smelled off) into little more than ooze on the floor of the building he never would have allowed them to enter had he been the one calling the shots at the time. (Never mind the fact that the jaguar wouldn’t take them into any building if given a choice, of course.)

His best option, he figured, was to lay low until the screaming woman departed. Humans ran from the scenes of their crimes, did they not? They feared punishment, feared retribution. The screaming woman would surely be no different, would wish to distance herself from what she had done. The jaguar could attempt to find the exit after she had gone; he was safer prowling behind shelves until then. Not hiding; the jaguar had no interest in that. Just… avoiding. He had no desire to attack a woman who could tear organic matter apart with a scream. Not without knowing more, at least. The jaguar remembered the last human he’d wrapped his teeth around. He could still taste the foulness of her glittery blood on his tongue. It was not a thing he wished to repeat.

But the screaming woman wasn’t leaving. She was circling the store, she was calling out for Felix. Why? To eliminate witnesses to her crime? The jaguar let out a low sound of displeasure, wishing she would leave. But instead, she entered the front of the building where the jaguar prowled, still calling out for his human counterpart. She approached, and the jaguar let out a low growl, flashing his teeth at her. His eyes darted around the building, landing at last on a door that seemed to lead to the outside. But the jaguar lacked Felix’s thumbs; he wouldn’t be able to open it on his own. And if he let Felix have control again, would they leave? Or would they continue to remain in the presence of a clear threat to maintain an aura of politeness? It was too big a risk.

Letting out a much louder yowl, the jaguar swiped a paw through the air between himself and the screaming woman, the threat clear. Keeping a wide distance between them, he padded over to the door and pawed at it with another yowl. Perhaps if he used his claws, he could remove it from its hinges. But could he do it before the woman chose to scream again? It seemed a risk.

Turning his head again, the jaguar’s gaze landed on the large display window, painted over with black and white stripes but still glass. Still possible to break. The idea that formed in the beast’s head was an obvious one; it was not, perhaps, a good one.

------

The animal slunk around, panting, ears pinned back, the picture of a stressed, cornered thing that held enough pride to deserve better. Saliva glistened on its long teeth. Regan’s mouth dropped open and the leading edge of a mounting screech nearly came pouring out. Getting a better look at the beast did nothing to explain the situation she’d found herself in. Was it a leopard? A jaguar? It didn’t matter; they both had teeth and claws. Regan peeled back, her breath caught in her throat. She told her racing heart that fear was only in the mind, and that she was above it. How many cats had she reduced to nothing but bone shards and clumps of viscera? This was no different (but… Lullaby. And Melody.). It had an expression she recognized, even on the face of an animal: it was convinced of its invulnerability, a true apex predator.

This cat, whatever species it was, had nothing in common with Jade’s babies – uh, cats – other than its chattiness. But where Lullaby meowed and purred (away, from across the room), this animal bared its lips back, revealing wicked fangs, and roared.

The paw came fast and Regan stumbled back, missing the claws. She couldn’t tell by what margin. Every instinct tried to yank her away; whatever self-preservation remained after her years of training was telling her to run. Her grandmother would be appalled (she scribbled a quick mental note to not mention this). No, Regan would blow the creature up on the spot and harvest the fragments that remained, the only indication that there had been something once alive in front of her. As the leopard yowled again, Regan’s lungs pushed themselves to issue one of their own. But… the animal didn’t seem interested in her, really. It clawed at the painted black door this time, the furrows from its claws revealing the light wood under the paint. Chips sprayed practically across the room. Regan sprang sideways, trying to create more distance, tying a rope around her lungs to rein them in.

Because… because Jade would hate it if she killed a cat. She wasn’t going to make Jade unhappy when they had less than a week left together. And it probably belonged to the zoo, right? Ó, lobhadh mór, she was soft, too soft. Saol Eile was going to sink its teeth into her if this leopard did not.

As the animal’s gaze ricocheted between the door and an offensively-intact window, Regan had a suspicion. (Not about Felix. She had no idea where they went. Probably home. She couldn’t blame them. She also would have gone home if she were painted up like a mime.) It was not nearly black and white enough to be something that belonged here. Did it want out, too? Regan cleared her throat, swallowing back the last of the urge to scream, and tried to keep her voice low. “I’m not good at talking to cats… I don’t think I am. Mostly, they talk to me. Meowing. Well, actually, it’s only one cat who does that. The other only looks at me on occasion, like I should be honored to see his eyes. Um, are you gay? A gay, uh… leopard? My gir– I know a gay cat.” The animal seemed calm enough. It was probably just confused. As she talked, she toed cautiously toward the door. Her lungs did not like this. They flared again at the danger, but she held her breath, and turned the knob on the door. It was actually just one of those knobs you press downward on. The cat could have done it. Cats weren’t very smart. “Is this… what you were trying to do?”

The leopard practically jumped over her head. It darted from the store (club?) as quickly as Lullaby shot out from under Jade’s sofa. That was still a problem, but not her problem – Kaden’s. Finally, the breath hissed out from her lungs and that big, black window shattered. Maybe that would have been easier after all, but Regan was not eager to subject another animal to the sound of her scream. Not until she had to again. She stepped over the glass, giving the room a final, curious glance. No turtlenecks at all. Not even a thread. Felix led them astray. She pulled out her Blackberry, thumbing carefully over the cracked screen, and located Yelp. (They did not have Yell in Wicked’s Rest.) She found The Stripe Club’s page. True to what Felix said, there were many reviews, but none of them contained any text.

She was going to leave the first.

1 out of 5 scars. No turtlenecks. Even fewer jackets. Would be 2 for the decor, but I have subtracted 1 due to the leopard infestation and optical illusions. Possibly a strip club for mimes. Do not purchase clothes here. What are these stars for? I am allotting only 1 of those as well.

#writing #c felix #animal abuse tw

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seeingteacupsindragons · 2 years

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Not sure if this your areas, but do you have any tips for incorporating literary allusions/intertexual references into your writing? (By the way, I've been going through your writing posts and they've been a big help!)

I’m going to scream; I was almost ready to post this and then Tumblr stole everything.

Okay. Let’s try this again.

This is something I wish I was better at. I’d like to be a writer people recognize as well-read from my writing. That’s probably pretentious, but I am not free of pretension, and it’s something I desire.

There’s a lot of ways to do intertextuality. In fact, you’re definitely doing it unintentionally, because every piece of media is a product of the environment it was formed in, and the environment it was formed in is heavily shaped by the media the creator was exposed to. Your pool of references, but also your understanding of narrative structure, of characters, of storytelling, of literary devices, of everything, will be shaped by the things you’ve read and watched.

But the major, obvious, intentional categories you’re probably asking about here are:

Retellings/adaptations/pastiches/etc.: Taking the original story and/or characters and reusing it to say something different. YuuMori isn’t saying the same thing about life or fiction or people or the world or religion or anything that the original Sherlock Holmes stories did, for example.

Quotation: Taking a specific line or moment and language and reusing it to say recall a moment/scene to recontextualize it. Most people in a Western or Christian culture would likely recognize, “Let there be light,” from Genesis and ideas of beginnings and newness and godliness and goodness and acts of creation.

Comparison/Reference: I kind of made up this term because I can’t think of what it’s called. This is the kind of thing where someone else refers to a character as Icarus, for example, verbally or in narrative. It’s not retelling or quoting anything, just leveraging a known story as shorthand to describe something else.

Basically, intertextually is generally used to recontextualize...something. Either the original work, or the work you're writing and leaning on something commonly known and understood to twist what's happening in a new light.

Knowing your audience is vital to doing this correctly. If it's vital to understand the reference to understand your writing, your audience needs to be someone who likely understands it. If it's not vital but adds Extra Meaning, you can get away with things less known to your audience who will delight if they do know it, or delight once they stumble upon the original, or delight if they come back to your work later after learning of the original.

And different cultures, different generations, different subcultures, different...everything, have different reference pools. I, for example, would almost certainly not recognize a reference to a telenovela. But there’s a lot of people who would. But a lot of people wouldn’t recognize me saying, “See you Space Cowboy...” They might not need to, depending on the context, but knowing what I’m referencing might add something.

Now for a practical example to discuss. This is a story I outlined in college, and it’s the most obnoxious, up-its-own-ass English Major of things. I outlined this entire thing, and then never wrote even 1k words because I’d outlined it and that meant death.

As you can see, each chapter is named after Classic Literature. The conceit was that the protagonist was a college freshman taking a broad literature introduction course and would read each of these one week (do not talk to me about what monstrous professor would assign Great Expectations to be read and discussed in one week, the first week of classes) in his semester, and the events and themes of the literature would be reflected in the plot of the chapter!

Cool!

Except there’s a lot that can go wrong here. Easily. First, how long are the goddamn chapters going to be if they’re trying to cover that much stuff? Second, many of these have wildly different themes and statements about nature. How does White People Ableism The Secret Garden match with African American community and liberation in Their Eyes Were Watching God? What do you even do with that that’s not a surface-level analysis of the work?

So, you’re going to want to be choosy about your references. Too many can start conflicting with each other and muddle what you’re trying to do. What are you trying to say? Make sure the references you’re using and the way you’re using them will facilitate that. If you want a lot, you might confine it to one character--and then it begins to say something about that character instead.

All of this is to say, I think the main points to consider are:

How are you incorporating the intertextuality?

What are you trying to say by using it?

Who is your audience and are the references you’re choosing appropriate for them?

Why have you selected this vehicle to say this thing?

(Also, thank you for sending this, it was fun to write up, and I’m glad you enjoy my posts about this)

#writing #writing advice

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britesparc · 6 months

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Weekend Top Ten #610

Top Ten Sequences from the Fantasia Films

Amazingly – or unsurprisingly? – I’m banging on about something to do with Disney again, for at least the fourth week in a row. At least Disney is such a huge and monolithic corporation that their output can veer wildly from superheroes to creepy freaks to, in this case, classical music.

Fantasia is a weird film, and I think it’s one that’s more enjoyable as a sort of historical exercise than a film in its own right. Thanks partly to just being a bit of a swot, and also to the invaluable resource that is the Disniversity podcast, I know all about the whys and wherefores of its production – Walt Disney’s intent to create a theatrical experience, a living musical document that would travel the globe, with new songs and animation being added, old ones stripped away; however, the massive budget and meagre box office put paid to his plans. The film, therefore, is an animation curio, one that most people have seen bits of, but which is probably isn’t of towering interest to most unless you’re a classical music scholar, an animation nerd, or maybe just a Disney completist.

The same is broadly true for its belated sequel, a film which troubles the chronically anal by being called Fantasia 2000 whilst releasing in the year 1999 (it’s not as egregious an offender as Blues Brothers 2000, which as well as being a worse movie in and of itself, also had the audacity to come out in the Year of Our Lord 1998 – but I may have digressed slightly). These two films are oddities in the Disney catalogue, audio-visual smorgasbords celebrating what the filmmakers considered some of the very best compositions recorded. They can be bold and daring and fascinating and – yes – entertaining; but they’re kinda weird things to just sit and watch, especially at home on Disney+.

Anyway, the very fragmented nature of the films makes it quite easy to separate the distinct individual segments; the various different animated sequences, each based on a piece of classical music. Now, before we go any further, it’s worth pointing out that I’m not a classical music scholar; when you say Beethoven I think of the dog. My introduction to opera was Bugs

Bunny. Ride of the Valkyries is the theme tune to Apocalypse Now. I am an ignoramus in this world. So if you’re looking for nuanced takes on the musicality on display, this ain’t that. I can’t really comment with any degree of aptitude or authority on how well the films interpret the music, or whether there’s some deep reference or allusion or anything like that. I can just watch each short film and talk about if I think it’s good or not, based on my own opinion and very little else.

All that being said, there are some belters here. And I guess the overall quality – how much I like it, basically – does rely on how well I think the music and the animation sit together, in harmony if you will. And that’s all there is to it! Now let’s put our monocles in and get all artsy-fartsy.

Rhapsody in Blue (Fantasia 2000, 1999): spoiler alert, we’re going to see a lot more OG Fanta here rather than its sequel, but my favourite sequence is still this adorable epic from 2 Fant 2 Asia. The Gershwin composition, being more recent than most, evokes the Twentieth Century, and the heavily stylised art – all solid lines, flat colours, and round-headed characters – likewise is redolent of minimalist sixties animation. The combination of the two feels tailor-made to tell the story of a city, a marked contrast with the more pastoral offerings of most Fantasia pieces. It’s a bustling urban story, with multiple characters weaving in and out, and it actually tells a proper story rather than “just” being a dance or something abstract. It’s great, it’s multicultural, it’s funny, it’s rather touching, and the music and animation combine to produce something magical. Should have won an Oscar all on its own.

The Rites of Spring (Fantasia, 1940): the first two “proper” Fantasia pieces are very me-centric; this one’s all about dinosaurs! And it’s suitably badass, with exploding volcanoes and foreboding skies, the tumultuous creation of the world leading to swift Pteranodons and lumbering apatosaurs before the thrilling appearance of a T-Rex. The music fits perfectly, the highs and lows depicting furious chaos and sudden drama before slowly fading out as the dinos are wiped away by storm and sun.

Night on Bald Mountain (Fantasia, 1940): the absolute master of bad-assery, and a serious contender for the most metal thing Disney has ever done. Look, it’s got the freaking devil waking up on a mountain and getting all kinds of freaks and skeletons and stuff to dance around. The music rocks – despite not being, y’know, rock music – and the visuals are just extreme. Chernabog – the big bad devil dude – is just iconically evil and delicious, and it all ends with a choir of monks singing Ave Maria and restoring good to the world. It’s amazing.

Pastoral Symphony (Fantasia, 1940): beautiful pastoral scenes with all kinds of sprites and nymphs and whatnot, delightful and cute mystical creatures cavorting under pastel skies. It’s all nice and relaxing. Except actually it’s probably the horniest thing Disney have made, with all these little Greek guys are desperately trying to get it on with each other.

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice (Fantasia, 1940): ah, the big famous one. You can probably buy toys of some of the other Fantasia bits and bobs, but it’s Sorcerer Mickey who’s the break-out star. And it’s still a great little story! Mickey is really cool in this. When it gets to the bit where he freaks out and starts hacking the brooms apart with an axe, it’s actually really gnarly, and choreographed brilliantly to the music.

Carnival of the Animals (Fantasia 2000, 1999): a short but funny little piece as a group of flamingos try to be all refined but are frustrated by their goofy mate playing with a yo-yo. It harks back to some of the dancing animals from the first Fantasia, but adds a good deal more comedy, which ramps and ramps with slapstick abandon.

Dance of the Hours (Fantasia, 1940): the serious counterpoint to the above – well, sorta. But the dancing ostriches and hippos do try to represent the music with some sincerity. But it’s how the oh-so-Disney animals interpret the dance – ballerina hippos being held aloft by comically skinny crocodiles – that really sings, with the whole thing building and building until it literally brings the house down.

Pomp and Circumstance (Fantasia 2000, 1999): that’s the name of the music, but probably most people would call it “Noah’s Ark” – for that is what it is. Clearly an attempt to “do a Sorcerer’s Apprentice” by casting an established Disney stalwart, we see Donald Duck as Noah. Well, actually, Noah’s assistant or something. It’s funny, it’s sweet, it’s dramatic, and there’s a bit where Donald – a duck, remember – has to lead a pair of ducks into the Ark.

Firebird Suite (Fantasia 2000, 1999): a kind of attempt to do an updated version of Bald Mountain, as a sweet life-giving woodland spirit is overcome by a vast and destructive firebird. Like the day/night dichotomy of Bald Mountain it’s about how death and new life are an inherent part of the natural world. And in its anthropomorphism of such concepts – and the overall art style employed – it’s pretty Ghibli-esque too.

Piano Concerto No. 2 (Fantasia 2000, 1999): more from the sequel than I thought really. This one is very interesting, and I think I like it more as an animation artifact; but approaching both these films kinda clinically, as if wearing a beret, is probably a decent approach regardless. This is a soft adaptation of an existing story, a little toy soldier trying to get back to his ballerina doll but attacked by a sinister jack-in-the-box; but it’s the use of computer animation that sets it apart. Yes, it wasn’t a revolutionary concept – Toy Story 2 came out the same year, and other pieces in the film use CG animation to some degree – but this really feels like a minor landmark for Disney, one of (if not the) first times they told a whole little story in this new medium. And, y’know, it kinda works.

Sadly didn’t quite have room for the “Meet the Soundtrack” section from the first film, which invents the WinAmp visualiser about six decades early.

#top ten #film #movies #disney #animation #music #classical music #fantasia #fantasia 2000

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lamphous · 3 years

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as requested by a commenter on ao3, reference/allusion footnotes for this fic

“Alan Alda, M*A*S*H, the one where they all wear red” — season 7, episode 2, “peace on us”. this is really just a list of things that are constantly on tv. metatextually, also a reference to seemingly everyone getting into at least one of mash or spn the last few months of 2020.

“The Hangover” — also on tv all the time

“Law & Order, uhh, guest star Claire Danes” — season 3, episode 1, “skin deep”. here for the same reason as the previous two.

“Romeo + Juliet” — what it says on the tin. this reference did then make me recontextualize something later as possibly an unconscious r & j allusion so I’m including it here.

“that amorphous ‘it’” — haha, this is a reference to a passage in virginia woolf’s to the lighthouse, one of my favorite books. it’s... okay, it’s this passage in section 11 of part 1 that we studied pretty extensively in my vw and later modernism classes (ezra if you read this no you didn’t) where mrs. ramsay talks about the lighthouse’s light in a way that the pronoun “it” evolves to refer to a bunch of things at once, culminating in “it is enough” in a way that refers to, like, everything. so “it” is something much larger than the concrete things it could be directly referring to, as well as those things (here, dean’s imagined “it’s alright” being “it” their relationship, the specific situation at hand, life, the universe, everything etc).

“spine bowed like a tree branch coated in ice” — robert frost, “birches” (“swinging doesn't bend them down to stay / as ice-storms do”). one of my favorite poems that has some particularly cas lines (”I'd like to get away from earth awhile / And then come back to it and begin over. / May no fate willfully misunderstand me / And half grant what I wish and snatch me away / Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: / I don't know where it's likely to go better.”)

“long, dark, infinitely desolate avenue” — sylvia plath, the bell jar (“day after day after day glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate avenue.”)

“’all-time creeper anthem’” and the surrounding conversation — oh you KNOW this is exactly how dean would describe aerosmith’s “I don’t wanna miss a thing”. like it would come on the radio and dean would talk through the whole thing but not change the station at all because it’s not... look, it’s not the worst, alright?

“half confession, half plea” — jane austen, persuasion (“I am half agony, half hope.”)

“Hands too.” — so this section was not at first intentionally a bit of “for saints have hands” / “have not saints lips” but when I was editing I almost cut it before I made the connection lol

“I’m sorry.” / “It’s okay.” / “It’s really not.” — cadence-wise, this is classic sacred text obelisk & metronome

“fries” — sufjan stevens, “john my beloved” (“beauty blue eyes, my order of fries”)

“world outside of time” — a softer world, #917 (“we talk in the dark as we fall asleep, and we are objects in the night sky outside of time.”)

“his lips to Dean's cheek” — also sufjan stevens, “john my beloved” (“the kiss on my cheek / where there remains but a mark”). also the general judas imagery. if we’re being honest, 80% of this fic ended up being inspired by this song lmao

“‘Are you happy?’” — mother mother, “happy” (literally all of it lmao)

“Dean is more than the sum of soul and body, some product of the combination” — THIS IS THE WORST ONE. this is a reference to fucking max scheler's conception of essentialism.

I’ll be entirely honest, the whole part about the tattoo was mostly an excuse to do a little “and lo dibs was called” reference. I’m pretty sure I still have that pic on my first gen ipod touch from middle school lmao

“liquid smooth” — I had stopped for one second to think of an adjective when “liquid smooth” by mitski came on and I went “alright, sure!” and just put it in without a thought lol

I do just wanna also say the thing about the oatmeal is something I do lmao. whatever, we’re right! it’s delicious

“A passing car's headlights tumbles through the bottom of the curtains.” — again, that section of to the lighthouse

“Carpe diem” — sure, cas probably knows actual latin, but this is intended as a dead poets society because dean canonically likes it and I believe he’d make cas watch it with

“his beloved, his partner in crime, his magnetic north” — this is a more general reference to what I call the “you and I but we’re a list of concrete nouns” subgenre of music (“paul” is one such example; “litany” by billy collins is about the subject; see also: “I wanna be yours” by arctic monkeys, “love it dissipates” by mother mother, “brand new colony” by the postal service)

“his beginning, end, and all that glorious middle” — same as previous, and also, as my notes worded it, “both the christian concept of alpha omega AND a glee reference, bc this whole exercise is for my middle school self” (the glee reference is the nonsensical-but-lasting-in-my-memory “the rest is just a whole lot of middle”)

“like a crypt” — I didn’t mark the rest of the spn-specific connections because this list would be twice as long, but I wanted to point out this was originally “like an egyptian tomb”, you know, the phrase, and when I thought of this change I fucking cackled out loud. oh “goodbye stranger”, you’ve always had my back...

“Love you, love you, love you” — again sylvia plath, the bell jar (“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.”)

“It's terrible” — took me a while to realize what about this line sounded so familiar but I finally nailed it in editing, it’s fucking richard siken, “litany in which certain things are crossed out” (“love, for you, / is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like a religion. it’s / terrifying. no one / will ever want to sleep with you.”)

“clings to Dean and lets himself be clung to in return” — apparently the nat king cole song “nature boy” which I recognize best from moulin rouge (“the greatest thing you'll ever learn / is just to love and be loved in return.”), which I also associate with 2013 fandom, so I guess this one’s for the gleeks. fun fact: for the longest time I remembered this as a les mis reference. it’s really not. I don’t know why I thought that.

“All he has now is his hands” — richard siken, “boot theory” (“a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river / but then he’s still left / with the river. a man takes his sadness and throws it away / but then he’s still left with his hands.”)

if you read this far, congrats! welcome to my twisted intertextual mind

#this has been in my drafts for over a month i just kept forgetting to look at my inbox >.<#(yes i am breaking out the old school emojis!!!! fuck you)#i just typed ''breaking out'' and clicked that autofill tag to see what it was wh...#well i AM breaking out the old school emojis i think i deserve it #supernatural for your blses etc #txt #fic writer tag

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yeonchi · 3 years

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Doctor Who 2021 New Year’s Special Review: Revolution of the Daleks

Air date: 1 January 2021

New Year’s Day is the new Christmas Day for Doctor Who. Two years ago, I was writing the review for the 2019 New Year’s Special, Resolution. One year ago, I was writing the review for the first episode of Series 12, Spyfall Part One (which essentially served as the 2020 New Year’s Special). Today, I'm writing this review for the 2021 New Year’s Special. Whether the change was because of political correctness, low ratings or just to change up the status quo, I think we should be glad that we even have a festive special, unlike the English dubs on Koei Tecmo’s Warriors games.

Amazingly, this special was filmed alongside Series 12 last year and kept on hold to today, meaning that production was largely unaffected by the coronavirus. Even with the anticipation and uncertainty for Series 13, which has already been reduced to eight episodes (with festive special status unknown), this episode serves as a good icebreaker given everything that’s happened in 2020 and the Timeless Child arc of Series 12.

Here is my spoiler-free thought for this episode: “It’s epic, heartbreaking and ridiculous at the same time.”

Spoilers continue after the break. Also, please don’t forget to check out my look at Doctor Who: Lockdown and the hiatusbreaker update for some post-Series 12 review thoughts.

Introduction

Chibnall mentioned that the recon scout Dalek from Resolution give birth to the new Dalek variant that was seen in this episode, thus making this episode a sequel to said episode. As such, this was the case.

367 minutes (about 6 hours) after the Doctor and her extended fam fought the recon scout Dalek at GCHQ, its shell was recovered. Jo Patterson, then Technology Secretary, tipped Jack Robertson (he will be referred to by his surname hereafter to differentiate him from Jack Harkness) off about it and managed to acquire it. After acquiring the plants of car firms that had abandoned Patterson and Rugazzi Technologies, Leo’s company, Robertson had defence drones developed (and 3D printed) based on the design of the Dalek’s shell.

The production of this episode was concluded by April 2020, with Chibnall stating that post-production work was continuing during the lockdown. This was before the death of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter protests, meaning that the scene showing the testing of the defence drones was likely inspired from the Hong Kong protests. We see people throwing bricks and molotov cocktails, and the Dalek is shown to be fitted with a water cannon, CS gas sprayer and a sonic deterrent. That’s about all the allusion we get - if we had any more then we would have had a serious problem.

Doctor and companions separated

At the end of The Timeless Children, the Doctor was sentenced to life imprisonment in a maximum-security prison, while Graham, Ryan and Yaz were brought back to Earth along with Ravio, Yedlarmi and Ethan. We don’t get to see those three in the episode, sadly.

Over the next ten months, Graham and Ryan had moved on with their lives while Yaz became obsessed with finding the Doctor (yeah, just forget that you have a family and a job as a policewoman lol). Graham shows Yaz some leaked footage of Robertson at the defence drone testing. They go to confront Robertson, but are turned away by his security guards.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had been in prison for decades, accompanied by a Weeping Angel, an Ood, a Sycorax, a Silent and even a Pting. Unbeknownst to her, Captain Jack Harkness had managed to get into the same prison as her, spending 19 years just to get the cell next to her, before making himself known and breaking out of the prison together. The Doctor and Jack head to Graham’s house, where they catch up and set out to find Jack Robertson.

There are a couple of one-to-one scenes that really got me thinking. When Jack and Yaz investigate traces of Dalek DNA in Osaka, they talk about their separation from the Doctor and what their time with the Doctor has changed them into. Jack tells Yaz, “Being with the Doctor, you don’t get to choose when it stops. Whether you leave her, or she leaves you.”

Let’s break that line down with information from the TARDIS Wiki page on companions. There are several ways that a companion can join the Doctor - they stow away on the TARDIS, they were “kidnapped”, or were assigned by higher powers, like UNIT, the Time Lords or the White Guardian. Just like that, there are several ways that companions leave the Doctor - they might choose to leave, the Doctor decides or is forced to leave them behind, or they die.

The interesting thing is that Jack says that they don’t get to choose when they leave. In the case of companions who decided to leave of their own will, you might think it was an easy decision for them, but in truth, there is context behind their motivation to leave. In Series 2, Mickey Smith stayed on Pete’s World to help defeat the Cybermen after that world’s counterpart of himself (Ricky) died and he became increasingly disillusioned with Rose favouring the Doctor over himself. In Series 3, Martha Jones decided to leave the Doctor after seeing her family enslaved by the Master for a year, travelling around the world to get people to think of the Doctor, and realising that her feelings for him would never be reciprocated. In the classic series, Tegan Jovanka left the Fifth Doctor after being sickened by the death and destruction she witnessed. From this, I can deduce that what Jack meant to say isn’t that the companions don’t get to choose when they leave, but that they don’t get to choose the circumstances that lead to them leaving. In some cases, that also applies to the companions who get left behind by the Doctor or killed.

The other one-to-one is between Ryan and the Doctor in the TARDIS. The Doctor apologises to Ryan for leaving him, Graham and Yaz behind for ten months and Ryan tells him that during this time his relationship with his father has improved and that he got to catch up with friends. Ryan asks the Doctor what has changed with her since they last met and the Doctor tells her that she isn’t who she thought she was (that storyline’s never going to go away, isn’t it? Hope to learn about the full story of the Timeless Child in Series 13). This scene really highlights how the companions can be a source of support for the Doctor, just as the Doctor is a source of support for them.

Ryan tells the Doctor that she is the same as she has always been. The Doctor comforts herself by saying that nothing’s changed, but Ryan says that it wasn’t what he meant; things change all the time and we might be scared of the new, but in the end, we have to confront the new, or the old. This bit was definitely made with the Timeless Child twist in mind. Yes, things change (particularly when it comes to Doctor Who), but some changes can be good or bad; just as there are people who saw the Timeless Child twist as good, there are people who saw it as bad (including myself). It’s like what I said in the hiatusbreaker update about The Timeless Children pulling an Ultraman Orb and trying to lessen the impact of the twist when it didn’t make sense and caused more damage than expected.

Human-created Daleks (sort of)

When the recon Dalek’s shell was salvaged, some traces of its DNA remained in it. Since, according to Missy in The Witch’s Familiar, every cell of a Dalek is genetically hardwired to survive, their consciousness can live within the tiniest fragment of their DNA. Leo managed to clone the recon scout Dalek out of those traces and hooked it into the neural network. Disgusted after being shown the creature, Robertson tells Leo to incinerate it, but when he tries to do so, it escapes and takes possession of him. In a way, the recon scout Dalek was resurrected in this episode, but it didn’t feel like the same character.

While hooked into the neural network, the Dalek managed to make more clones of itself using Robertson’s resources, feeding them with the liquefied remains of the people who worked on them. After being confronted by the Doctor and the others, the Dalek uses the UV light to activate the Daleks, transport themselves into the shells that it augmented, then kills Rob and begins subjugating Earth.

Just as Jo Patterson introduces the defence drones in her first speech as Prime Minister, she gets exterminated by them quickly after they are activated. If Jack Robertson is an expy of Donald Trump, then Jo Patterson is an expy of Theresa May - a forgettable Prime Minister whose claim to fame (defence drones for the former, Brexit for the latter) backfired on them. To be honest, when I heard that they would be in this special, I almost thought that they got married or something.

There was a similar situation like this in the Series 3 two-parter, Daleks in Manhattan and Evolution of the Daleks, only this time, the Daleks were more involved. In that story, the Cult of Skaro were attempting to find a way to survive beyond the Dalek shell, to the point of creating Dalek-human hybrids, a new race with the intelligence of Daleks but with the emotions of humans. In both cases, the new Dalek variants were considered impure due to the human elements within them.

I’ve compared this episode to Victory of the Daleks when the trailer came out. With the addition of the conflict between the two Daleks (as I will outline below), there are additional contrasts to the Seventh Doctor story Remembrance of the Daleks and the Big Finish Eighth Doctor audio story Blood of the Daleks.

The nuclear option

With thousands of defence drone Daleks on the move and no weapons to deal with them, the Doctor seems to do the only thing she can think of that doesn’t involve destroying the Earth ala the Moment (which was what I was thinking) - signal a ship of Death Squad Daleks (SAS Daleks, but more brutal) to Earth to deal with the impure defence drones.

The two groups of Daleks confront each other on a bridge (specifically the Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol). After seeing his Daleks get exterminated, Robertson takes his nuclear option - part with the Doctor and side with the Daleks. That’s right, Jack Robertson does an Utsumi (Nariaki Utsumi from Build, if you didn’t know) and sides with a race that would kill him the first chance they got. Give him a cane to break and we would have gotten the first tokusatsu meme in Doctor Who.

For someone who seems to be so obsessed with protecting himself (normally by using other people), I must say that this was a strange step for Robertson to take. Given that Robertson is an expy of Trump, one can only wonder what Chibnall and people like him think of Trump. Would Trump sell himself or humanity out to invading aliens? Personally, I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to do so. I think he’d bomb them with everything he has.

Robertson convinces the Daleks to take them aboard their ship and meet their commander. Meanwhile, Jack, Graham and Ryan board the ship and plant explosives on it. Graham tries to get Ryan to fistbump him, but he just tells him to “stop talking weird”. We’re back, fellow kids. Missed us?

Robertson tells the Daleks that the Doctor summoned them. The original Dalek returns and offers to be purified, only to be exterminated. Graham, Ryan and Jack find Robertson and they get off the ship together just as it is destroyed.

The Doctor floats her TARDIS in the sky among the Daleks and lures them inside, which would normally be an impossible feat if it weren’t for the fact that it isn’t actually the Doctor’s TARDIS, but the other TARDIS from earlier. She sets it to fold in on itself and send itself to the heart of the Void, thereby destroying them.

Soon after that, Robertson claims that he was acting as a decoy and so, he is lauded as the saviour of humanity. A honorary knighthood and a revived presidential run is mentioned after the toxic waste scandal (Arachnids in the UK) ruined his previous attempt. This is where my comparison to Utsumi weakens - Utsumi pledged himself to Evolto so that he could find a way to bring him down, but there doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motive in Robertson’s actions. Frankly, I’m surprised that he wasn’t exterminated at all.

Parting ways (for now)

By the time Graham and Ryan return to the TARDIS, Jack has left and is on his way to see Gwen Cooper, who has apparently had another child, a son. Honestly, his departure feels quite lackluster.

The Doctor offers to take the fam to a restaurant apparently named the Meringue Galaxy, but Ryan decides to leave the Doctor since he believes that his friends and planet need him. Graham struggles to decide, but in the end, he decides to leave with Ryan, leaving the Doctor and Yaz on the TARDIS. The Doctor gives them some psychic paper as a parting gift.

The final scene is a throwback to the beginning of The Woman Who Fell to Earth. Graham is helping Ryan ride his bike when they bring up some strange incidents around the world, like a troll invasion in Finland or gravel creatures in Korea. Ryan begins riding his bike one more time when they see Grace looking back at them in the distance. This is the last episode where Ryan’s dyspraxia is explored. Shame Chibnall never managed to do a lot with it.

We’ve known that Graham and Ryan would be leaving the series for months now, and we’ve also known that there would be opportunities for them to return. Let’s hope we see them again in Series 13.

Going back to my discussion about companions leaving, the major factor in Ryan and Graham’s decision to leave was that they had spent ten months away from the Doctor and unlike Yaz, they had already moved on with their lives. Additionally, for Graham, he doesn’t want to leave Ryan given the relationship they built up during their time with Doctor and possibly also for fear of abandoning Ryan, given how his father wasn’t there for him previously. This doesn’t feel as deep compared to other companions’ motives for leaving the Doctor, but it’s still quite deep.

At the end of Can You Hear Me?, we see Ryan talking to Yaz about spending their lives with the Doctor and forgetting everyone back home. I’d always thought that the human element of being a companion was annoying, but we have to remember that companions are people too and they had their own lives before they met the Doctor.

Other general thoughts

I know this is kind of irrelevant given that this episode was produced at the end of 2019, but could Leo be considered an Uncle Tom for inventing something designed to suppress protesters? By the way, don’t let China know about this or we’re all screwed, even in Hong Kong or Taiwan.

Jack gets a gold star for rescuing the Doctor. That puts Jack and Graham at 10 points and Yaz and Ryan at 20.

Jack also has his sonic blaster back as well. Will Jack also be back for Series 13? We’ll just have to see it to believe it.

The title cards are jarring again. Can the production team not be inconsistent with their fonts?

I swear, all the Yaz favouritism in the last two series must have given her Stockholm syndrome. Who’s to say that Mandip Gill wanted to leave, but Chibnall asked her to stay?

Taking a look at the designs for the Daleks, the defence drones are alright. They glow a bluish-white colour normally, but they glow red and shoot red beams when the Dalek creatures took control of them. You could probably mistake them for being red in the dark, which is highlighted when they are shown shooting people in the streets. As for the Death Squad Daleks, they’re basically just the basic bronze Daleks, including their leader. They should’ve brought back the multicoloured New Paradigm Daleks just so the Death Squad Daleks could be differentiated from ordinary Daleks.

Following the premiere of this episode, a new companion was announced for Series 13, with John Bishop playing the role of Dan. Honestly, with the Timeless Child mystery still looming and the lack of character development for Yaz, a new companion is the last thing this series needs, particularly since Series 13 would be Jodie Whittaker’s third series and possibly, her final one (if we’re going by previous Doctors). At the moment, Bishop is currently isolating after being tested positive for the coronavirus. I wish him well and look forward to seeing him in Series 13.

The reduced number of episodes in Series 11 or 12 may have contributed to the lack of focus on Ryan’s dyspraxia or character development on Yaz, but that’s no excuse. Chibnall had plenty of opportunities to factor them in, but he was too focused on not having a story arc in Series 11 and destroying canon in Series 12 to even think about it (Graham and Ryan got more character development in those two series than Yaz did). Now that Series 13 has been reduced to eight episodes (not counting the possibility of a split series or another New Year’s Special out of the eight), I fear that Chibnall won’t have enough opportunity to factor in Dan’s character development with Yaz’s character development, the Timeless Child, Ruth and/or the Master, particularly when he delegates half of the series to other writers and does very few good things in the remaining episodes he writes (or co-writes). Honestly, Series 11 and 12 felt like a waste of time in some aspects.

Summary and verdict

Like I said at the start, this episode acted as a good icebreaker in the long break between series. However, ever since my red-pilling in The Timeless Children, I’ve started to see this series in a new light, particularly with the help of YouTubers like Bowlestrek or Nerdrotic. Despite this, I’m reluctant to hop on the #RIPDoctorWho bandwagon because we still don’t have the full details for the Timeless Child arc, so I’m reserving most of my judgement until we get it.

Most of the episode was good, but the ridiculous part for me was when Robertson Utsumi’d himself and somehow managed to survive. Jack’s departure felt lackluster, Ryan and Graham’s departure felt lackluster to other companions’ departures and Jo Patterson was just... ehh. Let’s not forget that we didn’t see or hear a mention of the surviving humans from the previous episode because Chibnall just forgot about them.

Rating: 6/10 Series 12 total: 77/100 (77%) Series 12 total with Revolution of the Daleks: 83/110 (75%)

Overall, this special brought down my total score for Series 12, but it still did slightly better compared to Series 11. If it weren’t for Jack Harkness, my score for the episode would have been lower. Robertson, being a Trump expy, essentially represented all the SJW red flags in this episode; pointing them out is unnecessary at this point given my red-pilling.

That’s it for my review of the New Year’s Special. There is a certainty that Series 13 will premiere this year, so the next time I return with another review will presumably be in late 2021. As long as Jodie Whittaker is the Doctor, my mission to review her episodes will continue. Follow me on Facebook and/or Tumblr and keep an eye out for my future posts, Doctor Who-related or otherwise, such as the Kisekae Insights series where I give insights on my personal project, which was heavily influenced by Doctor Who.

Stay safe and I’ll see you then.

#doctor who #doctor who series 12 #thirteenth doctor #doctor who series 12 review #thirteenth doctor review

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musedblues · 4 years

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Hello Again

Part 1 of (maybe 2?)

W/C: 8k

Summary: Gwilym has always been around, somewhere in the background of your fast-moving life. But when summer comes along, you finally slow down enough to take a closer look.

Warnings: Allusion to/ Mentions of alcoholism? Nothing too horrific!

A/N: I’m writing again! Rather, finally getting around to uploading things I’ve had written for ages. There will be a second part to this in the very near future! Please enjoy my hopeless fantasizing, gang! (and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!) _

You had nearly forgotten all about your past twenty-three years of living, on your rampage through the American desert: and that was your mission... To focus on nothing besides soaking up every the last ray of the blistering hot sun before summer vacation was over, and you had to start senior year of college. You were a history major and initially had big dreams of becoming a librarian or a museum director, so that you could enjoy immense hushed quiet all day before going out with your best girlfriends at night.

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash.

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking. The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking." Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

What do I wear?

#gwilym x reader #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee #borhap fanfic

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rosywaifu · 5 years

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I just finished Star Vs The Forces of Evil

Previously, I had watched only to the middle of season 3 but then I saw some really cute svtfoe fan art that was absolutely amazing and so I went to Hulu to watch it from season 1 and I forgot how much I missed Starco it’s probably my favorite ship. Tbh i’m going to list stuff i liked about the series below the cut so i don’t overwhelm your dash!

okay like i said above, i love Starco it is tied for my favorite ship in the show (First being Eclipsa and Globgor, second is Ton and Janna, third is Moon and River) Like i am just a fan of friend to romance because I am a big believer in that particular way to get to romance. I just love friends who grow to love and appreciate your quirks and weird habits as a friend. I feel in tv and movies when they portray “love at first sight” or typical dates, they always give me the message that I should hide my flaws and quirks and then reveal them all at a really pivotal moment. But with friends, you don’t have that big wall blocking you from who you really are. and yeah so i love Starco, Marco is just such a lovable character. I loved watching his development as a character from “safe-wannabe-bad boy” to “amazing-knight-who-loves-his-sparkly-girlfriend”. I also love that he never gets like “oh she’s my girlfriend, i gotta protect her even though when we were just friends, i never acted like she needed my protection because she doesn't. she turns into a supercool magic butterfly and she can shoot spells out of her six arms; she’s got this” and I really appreciate seeing that. I also like how they didn’t shirk away the words like “dating”, “boyfriend/girlfriend”, “love” etc. My 13 year old sister has been in tons of relationships and she’s never skirted around these words before because she was always confidant in her feelings and she was never taught to be shameful for dating and being in love. and that's how kids are these days and i think it’s a good thing we aren't making kids and teens shameful or feel awkward around these terms, especially when they hear older siblings and parents use it daily. maybe that's all gibberish. I also liked that the segregation and bigotry is so obvious. The allusion is so clear, i felt pained watching it. I mean, the show even uses the word bigotry. I dont think they were hiding it. And Mina Loveberry’s character was so horrifying to me, not only because she was a spooky, scary, ravenous beast and terrifying person, but because some of the phrases she used, I have seen online and heard in real life. She really scared me, a young and perky, fun hair colored, previous idol was a bigot. I think its super cool how they designed her to not fit the normal evil and bigoted villain. I love Tom. I think he is just such a fun character, plus I think he and Janna would make a super cute couple or at least BFF pairing!! I loved his rocky relationship with Star. I thought it was super interesting they showed they twists and turns the romance made and that, again, its okay to not always get love right on the first try. Also, I loved Meterora’s story line. I thought that was so interesting, and I really think the lesson learned from her story (Yes, i always think there's a lesson to be learned, especially in cartoons) is that second chances are worth it. Meterora may have been evil her first time around, sucking the youth from princesses and oppressing their individuality. But, she was a product of baby switching, and being raised by a creepy robot to always hide what makes her unique. It’s classic nature versus nurture, and in this case, nurture won. But with her as a baby, and her memory of that life gone (except for her hatred of marco/turdina) she get’s a second chance, a chance to live the life she should have; with her parents. Also i love Eclipsa and Globgor, they were such a cute relationship! So kind, and respectful. not the typical rhetoric where the monster kidnaps the queen and forces them to marry them. she fell in love with him! they dated! ugh, i love it. I love Star’s character so much. a disney (yes in my head she is a disney princess, sue me) who is sloppy, messy, obnoxious, reckless, colorful, badass, a girl who is always ready for a fight! such a fun-filled character whoo has depth!!! I love depth! Also Star is bisexual, my mind is made up. Also Jackie is a lesbian, i’m sure of it. Also i love the fact that despite Marco and Tom both liking Star, they didn’t let it affect their own friendship! They were such good buddies and, i think, truly cared about each other to the very end. Beautiful! Stunning! 10/10! I loved Buff frog and all of his buff children. I love him being a good single parent, doing what needs to be done and loving his family.

In conclusion, this show is amazing, the ending was heart wrenching and heart warming and got me totally psyched for a new season but as I understand it its not coming. :( I love everything about this show, so i 100% recommend it if you haven't watched it before.

okay, bye!! xx

#svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #starco #star butterfly #marco diaz #tom lucitor #jackie lynn thomas #janna #eclipsa #globgor #mina loveberry #svtfoe season 4 #some spoilers #very minor spoilers though #i already miss this show i'm going to cry #butterfly #ludo #star versus the forces of evil

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rosereview · 4 years

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December Songs Review

Fridays are the time for songs to be released and this past month, there were a lot of great songs that were released that I am very happy and excited about, so I thought I’d share my thoughts on some very special ones.

Finally // beautiful stranger by Halsey

First is this amazing song by Halsey from her upcoming album Manic that will be released in January. I love Halsey and I love the new music that she’s been releasing lately and can’t wait for this new album. Don’t get me wrong, her last two albums were works of art as well, but I do like the direction Halsey is going with her newest stuff. This song is like the first love song she’s written and it just makes me so happy that it’s not a song that talks about sadness or hate or pain. I’m happy that she sounds so happy and hopeful in this song and the way that it’s so stripped down. I love the guitar and drums and her voice is so beautiful and raw in this song. It’s definitely a new favourite for me.

SUGA’s Interlude by Halsey, SUGA & BTS

I really like the feeling that the song gives off, like it’s telling a hard truth. And I love how SUGA has such a big part in this song, but I just wish the whole thing was longer. I feel like SUGA had such a big part and lot’s to say, while Halsey had less, but if it was longer she could have gotten more in there. But it really is a beautiful song that has a lot of meaning especially it read the translation of SUGA’s part (if you only know English like me!). I also love the piano and background noise that made it sort of feel like you were outside listening to nature. It just made it feel that much more real and truthful.

Romance by Camila Cabello

So on Friday, December 6th, Camila’s new album came out and I have to say that I’m not disappointed. Each song feels raw and emotional, both for the songs about love or heartbreak. She really did capture a world of Romance.

Shameless is a beautiful start to the album which captures the way love can be confusing and demanding on yourself and you have to give your full self to the other person for it to be true with the risk of being rejected.

Living Proof is the next song and it’s much more romantic than Shameless and has many allusions to Heaven and angels which I really liked. It is a really great love song, although not my favourite on the album. I also like how much lighter it was compared to the intensity of Shameless. I really liked the way it felt like a fun but meaningful love letter.

Should’ve Said It is the first heartbreak song on the album. I liked the beat of this song and the clever lyrics of this song. At one point it references Living Proof by saying her new man fell from grace into his place, and I really liked how the two songs tied in that way.

My Oh My (feat. DaBaby) is actually a really fun time. I didn’t think it would be my thing, but I actually like the kind of dark and dirty side of Romance that Camila brought to this album. I loved that it says “my mama doesn’t trust him” part. I just thought it was funny, especially since the rest of the album kind of alludes to angels and heavenly love, while this talks about darkness and being naughty.

Senorita with Shawn Mendes is a good song, but it’s so overplayed that I can’t really give it a good review. It’s catchy and sexy, but I can’t say I really like it anymore. Although I can say how it talks about being sexy and naughty and comes right after My Oh My. It’s like this is the physical part of Romance.

Liar like Senorita had been played over and over again on the radio, but I can say that I like the Latin elements that it has. It also shows another reference to being a bad girl, but now it’s not necessarily good for her and doesn’t make her a good person. But this one is also catchy, so I can give it that.

Bad Kind of Butterflies isn’t my favourite song on the album, but it is a turning point where Camila shows the negatives of love and how it’s not as simple as just loving one person, and how you have to let other people down to get to someone you love more.

Easy is one of my favourite songs on the whole album. It’s a beautiful love song that takes about insecurities that are super relatable and how the person who loves her makes her feel better about them, which is one of the main components of loving someone. The whole song, lyrical and production is so well done and beautiful and I love the way Camila says the word love so easily. Like even though the album talks about how it is a hard and messy thing, it is also super important to say and show.

Feel It Twice is another of my favourites. It’s a nice and calm break up song that sort of relates to Should’ve Said It where she forgives the person who had hurt her and says that she’s sorry for giving him more pain by moving on. Both songs mentioned how the lover took two years to ask for her back, so you can guess they are about the same person, but different takes on how it all went down, where one is forgiving and one is angry.

Dream of You is also amazing and I think it’s my second favourite on the album. Honestly these three songs in a row are just so beautiful and raw. In my opinion this is the heart of Romance and like Easy this song talks about all the parts of the two people accept each other and all the ways they care about each other. And at the same time it’s almost like Camila is opening up more to her lover and is waiting to see if she will get rejected for laying herself fully and completely out in the open. Being vulnerable. And it’s beautiful.

Cry for Me is probably my least favourite song on the album just because it feels more like Camila’s just yelling at someone, which would probably be good if I was also having those feelings, but it’s just more angry than I would like. It’s still very well written, but I wish it was made a little differently.

This Love actually took me by surprise, because I don’t usually like the old classic rock ballad that it is. But I think she made it really work here with the guitar and her voice. I loved how she played with her vocals here and really sounded mad, like in Cry for Me, but it was nicer sounding, if that makes sense.

Used to This is another one of my top songs on this album. The lyrics and vocals were amazing, but also the musical aspect was catchy while also very emotion filled. I really don’t know any other way to describe it.

First Man is my favourite song on the album by a long shot. I cried the first few times I listened to it. It just really touched my heart in a way that this probably touched a lot of dads and daughters. It shows the whole journey that relationships take and the way they also affect other relationships, like the one with your parents. It really is just such a beautiful and it really completes the album and the whole world of Romance.

And that’s all I got for now. Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

#halsey #camila cabello #romance #songs #review #bts

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cinemavariety · 5 years

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The Director’s Series: David Lynch

The director series will consist of me concentrating on the filmography of all my favorite directors. I will rank each of their films according to my personal taste. I hope this project will provide everyone with quality recommendations and insight into films that they might not have known about.

Today’s director in spotlight is David Lynch

#10 - Dune (1984) Runtime: 2 hr 17 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In the year 10,191, the world is at war for control of the desert planet Dune – the only place where the time-travel substance ‘Spice’ can be found. But when one leader gives up control, it’s only so he can stage a coup with some unsavory characters.

Verdict: Most directors who make enough films will always have a few misses. Dune is almost unwatchable with its convoluted storyline that will confuse anyone who hasn’t read the novel. I’ll give it this - the set and costume design are out of this world, no pun intended.

#9 - The Straight Story (1999) Runtime: 1 hr 52 min Aspect Ratio: 2.39 : 1 Film Format: 35 mm

A retired farmer and widower in his 70s, Alvin Straight learns one day that his distant brother Lyle has suffered a stroke and may not recover. Alvin is determined to make things right with Lyle while he still can, but his brother lives in Wisconsin, while Alvin is stuck in Iowa with no car and no driver’s license. Then he hits on the idea of making the trip on his old lawnmower, thus beginning a picturesque and at times deeply spiritual odyssey.

Verdict: The only one of Lynch’s films that could be considered purely “heartwarming”. It also feels the least like a Lynch film, with the director never really foraying into his autuerist territory. It is a simple, cute film that didn’t exactly leave much of an impression on me.

#8 - Lost Highway (1997) Runtime: 2 hr 14 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A tormented jazz musician finds himself lost in an enigmatic story involving murder, surveillance, gangsters, doppelgangers, and an impossible transformation inside a prison cell.

Verdict: Lost Highway has a few scenes that I find to be the most bone-chilling in Lynch’s oeuvre. However, I wish that the entirety of this film had the same effect on me. There are more than enough satisfying plot elements to this, but I also feel like Lynch utilizing a modern soundtrack more than Badalementi’s superb score really does make this film feel dated.

#7 - The Elephant Man (1980) Runtime: 2 hr 4 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A Victorian surgeon rescues a heavily disfigured man being mistreated by his “owner” as a side-show freak. Behind his monstrous façade, there is revealed a person of great intelligence and sensitivity. Based on the true story of Joseph Merrick, a severely deformed man in 19th century London.

Verdict: The Elephant Man showcases how cruel human nature can be. It is one of Lynch’s most sentimental works that manages to be both horrendous and beautiful. John Hurt’s performance as the “elephant man” is multilayered and one of the most impressive, humanistic feats of an artist embodying a character with the utmost ingenuity.

#6 - Blue Velvet (1986) Runtime: 2 hr Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

The discovery of a severed human ear found in a field leads a young man on an investigation related to a beautiful, mysterious nightclub singer and a group of criminals who have kidnapped her child.

Verdict: This is Lynch’s detective film, and I would say one of the best starting films for someone looking to get into his work. It has all of the surrealist plot motifs we come to expect from Lynch, but also has a pretty understandable storyline for the most part. Blue Velvet explores the dark underbelly beneath the fake “harmless” veneer of a seemingly quiet and peaceful small town.

#5 - Wild at Heart (1990) Runtime: 2 hr 5 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Young lovers Sailor and Lula run from the variety of weirdos that Lula’s mom has hired to kill Sailor.

Verdict: Many might not see Wild at Heart as one of Lynch’s strongest works, but I personally find it to be the most fun film he has ever made. Lynch creates such a wide variety of scummy characters that truly make your stomach church (I am looking at you Willem Dafoe). It’s one of those so-bad-it’s-perfect movies and the Wizard of Oz allusions are a great addition to the story.

#4 - Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992) Runtime: 2 hr 14 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

In the questionable town of Deer Meadow, Washington, FBI Agent Desmond inexplicably disappears while hunting for the man who murdered a teen girl. The killer is never apprehended, and, after experiencing dark visions and supernatural encounters, Agent Dale Cooper chillingly predicts that the culprit will claim another life. Meanwhile, in the more cozy town of Twin Peaks, hedonistic beauty Laura Palmer hangs with lowlifes and seems destined for a grisly fate. Verdict: I think it’s a real shame that this film was held in such low regard by both critics and fans alike when it was released. These people seemed to be truly confused as to the types of films Lynch makes. Thankfully, it has developed into a real cult classic since then. This film, which also serves as a prequel to the iconic television series, abandons the campy tone of the series and is Lynch achieving the vision that he wanted from the show. It’s a beautiful, haunting, and heartbreaking story.

#3 - Inland Empire (2006) Runtime: 3 hr Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: Mini DV & 35mm

An actress’s perception of reality becomes increasingly distorted as she finds herself falling for her co-star in a remake of an unfinished Polish production that was supposedly cursed.

Verdict: Lynch has yet to make a feature film since this one, and it truly is the director going off the rails with his style in the best of ways. Inland Empire is almost completely impossible to describe because it is more of an experience than it is a structured narrative. It returns to Lynch’s often-used idea of “hollywood is hell”. To me, this is Lynch’s scariest film. It’s utterly hopeless and the pixelated DV cinematography exudes a very cold and artificial aesthetic. Laura Dern deserved an Oscar for her performance as an actress who confuses her own life to the character she is playing.

#2 - Mulholland Drive (2001) Runtime: 2 hr 27 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Blonde Betty Elms has only just arrived in Hollywood to become a movie star when she meets an enigmatic brunette with amnesia. Meanwhile, as the two set off to solve the second woman’s identity, filmmaker Adam Kesher runs into ominous trouble while casting his latest project.

Verdict: You will very rarely find such a perfect masterpiece of a film, but Mulholland Drive manages to do that. It also seems to reveal new layers every time I revisit. Lynch blurs the lines between the dream world and reality so masterfully in this film that it really does linger in your subconscious afterward - much akin to a haunting dream that you can’t seem to shake. Naomi Watts is electric as an LA newcomer who gets involved in the dark recesses of Hollywood.

#1 - Eraserhead (1977) Duration: 1 hr 29 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Henry Spencer tries to survive his industrial environment, his angry girlfriend, and the unbearable screams of his newly born mutant child.

Verdict: By no means am I trying to say Eraserhead is Lynch’s “best” film - but for me it will probably always remain my personal favorite. This was my introduction to Lynch’s work and it holds a very sentimental spot for me as this was the time in my life when I really began exploring experimental film. Eraserhead is set in a dystopia that could also serve as an alternate reality altogether. Henry Spencer has to deal with his demanding wife and deformed child while daydreaming of a singing woman in the radiator. This is Lynch at his most surrealist, his most uncompromising, and his most nauseating. It truly is one the most impressive low-budget films ever made. It manages a fine line between repulsion and transcendence.

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tomasorban · 5 years

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THE ZODIAC: VIRGO THE VIRGIN

Date of Rulership: 23rd August-22nd September; Polarity: Negative, female; Quality: Mutable; Ruling planet: Mercury; Element: Earth; Body part: Solar plexus and bowels; Colour: Dark brown, green; Gemstone:Sardonyx; Metal: Mercury or nickel.

Up until now, the formative forces expressed by the zodiac under the signs of Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, and Leo have been orientated towards the inner realm of self-expression and self-actualization, and particular an expression that doesn’t wish to be hindered by external influences or contingencies. This all changes with Virgo, a sign whose potency derives from the ethereal element of earth and mutability. Virgos are quite like a combination of metal oxides, minerals, and organic matter otherwise known as clay. They adapt quickly to the pulling, pushing, thrashing, twisting, folding, and overturning caused by the protean elements of the environment through sharpened faculties of common sense and level-headed thinking. If Virgo were a cosmic process, it would be an accelerated version of natural selection; if it were an animal, it would be a rainforest chameleon; and if it were a person, it would more than likely be a molecular biologist. The three just mentioned things partake of the same methodology when it comes to encountering reality and the world: they all start by apportioning a state, condition, or situation into its respective subcomponents; then studying the composition of each piece, its practical purpose, its relation to the other parts, and all possible forms of interaction; and finally pondering all possible outcomes and consequences should any unforeseen mechanistic failure or breakdown in communication between the parts ensue. Moreover, the mutable energies of Virgo are meticulously practical and conscientious; they will measure, demarcate, and map out their worldview before ruffling through to weed out items of information that are superfluous, insignificant, of no intellectual or creative interest, or of no practicable use. Virgo is a focused sign and sees no value in going off on wild goose chases or intellectual tangents that are merely products of curiosity rather than data aligned into a chronological tree of final causes.

Thus Virgo is the “analyst” of the zodiac, the sentient filter that gathers, stores, retrieves, analyses and prioritizes information in a mental filing system designed to sharpen the conscious will and force the ego along its chosen path and trajectory of evolution. To arrive at this state of being, Virgo had to sift through an array of primary characteristics from preceding signs and single out the ones it wanted: from Taurus it borrowed willpower, diligence, and focus; and from Cancer it acquired the desire to mother and nurture others, especially those beings that seem helpless and in need of protection or attention. Virgo’s innate tendency towards analysis, its sedate disposition, and its agenda rendered the traits of the other three signs–Aries, Gemini, and Leo–both undesirable and incompatible, and hence it bypassed the lot without a second thought.

“You know guys and girls, I’m a bit like extra virgin olive oil,” says Virgo. “I am well aware of my own composition, texture, colour, and taste. I know my own essence, what I mix well with, and what I don’t mix with at all. I can also tell you without the slightest doubt that I’m good for you, and that I probably know what’s best for you better than you do. The endeavour that we call life is best approached from an angle that involves formulating plans and putting them into action. Throw in a bit of salt and pepper in the form of self-discipline and hard work and you have a recipe for instant success and satisfaction. It’s as simple as that. Those of you who say or do otherwise are either naïve, ill-informed, delusional, or plain stupid, and you can be certain that I’ll be giving you the “I-told-you-so” lecture somewhere down the track for taking detours onto dirt roads which lead to oblivion. We never, ever let our hearts usurp the position held by our heads–this sentiment extends to all areas of life, including family, love, sex and relationships, profession and career, finance, and so forth.

In any case, if you’re not quite sure as to how the mechanics of this little secret works I’d be more than happy to forfeit some my own time and give you a demonstration. There’s nothing more satisfying than giving to a fellow projection of the conscious universe, a brother or sister, and you can be more than certain that God, salvation, and peace are to be found in such moral, selfless, and loving acts. I do have some insight into my own psychic makeup, and understand that my love of perfectionism, my sense of righteousness, and my “know-it-all” approach can intimidate, irritate, and anger others. This has nothing to do with conceit or being up myself but rather a love for the world and my devotion to it. Why can’t people wake up and realise what’s good for them I say? Why do they make the same mistakes, over and over, without learning from them? How can the most intellectual of earthly creatures be so incompetent and inefficient sometimes? We need to listen before we speak, prepare before we do battle, and look before we jump. If people adhered to these very simple guidelines, there’d be a hell of a lot less grief in the world!”

From what we can see, Virgo is obviously a reflective sign that places a colossal emphasis on education and learning. And what Virgo aptly sees in this temporal and sometimes chaotic world of change and evolution quicker than any other sign is that self-preservation is dependent upon doing things in moderation. When physical, mental or emotional energies are utilized to extremes for prolonged periods of time, the individual will manifest wear and tear that inevitably leads to burnout. The best way to avoid hitting a wall, according to Virgo, is to engage in periodic exercise, eat a nutritious diet high in protein, complex carbohydrates, fibre and coloured vegetables, and cordon off a few hours each day for solitary endeavours intended to cultivate the soul. Learning new skills and refining natural talent is way more important and meaningful to a Virgo than being a social magnet or an energy vampire. From this perspective it’s easy to see why the Virgo man or woman admires, respects and holds in the highest esteem individuals who are intellectually and academically inclined.

In neural physiology, we might align Virgo with the rational, mechanistic, and dominant scientist that lives in the left hemisphere of our brains. Like the latter, Virgo is only interested in knowledge pertaining to reality that is collected by the sense faculties and categorized through deductive reasoning. Unlike the latter though, Virgo discriminates between knowledge collected on the basis of its usefulness. If theory or knowledge cannot be applied in some concrete way to improve the present conditions of life, then there’s no point in even knowing about it. As far as Virgo is concerned, anything abstract and speculative or anything that evades human comprehension and classification is simply not worth any vested time or effort.

There are two symbols associated with Virgo the Virgin. The first is a reclining woman, an obvious allusion to the Great Mother Goddess in all her guises (i.e. the virgin, the crone, the good mother, the temptress or seductress, the whore, and so forth). She is the stellar goddess of innumerable names: for the ancient Babylonians and Assyrians she was Ishtar, the all-encompassing deity of love, war, fertility and sex; for the ancient Egyptians she found expression through the feminine triad of Nut-Hathor-Isis; for the ancient Greeks she was a triune spirit encompassing the Olympian deities Artemis, Athena, and Hestia; and for the Imperial Romans she was Ceres, the maternal goddess of agriculture, grain crops and fertility who was always depicted holding a sheaf of corn. One would have to say that the most recognized religious iconography associated with this zodiacal sign is that of the Christian Mary, the Immaculate Virgin and Queen of Heaven who brought forth the incarnation of God the Father in Jesus Christ the Son.

In classical mythology, the stellar constellation of Virgo was inextricably linked with Astraea, the goddess of justice and innocence. According to the Hellenes, there was a time when the immortals were thriving alongside the mortals on Earth. Back then the world was largely devoid of diseases, plagues, burdens, and other conditions detrimental to general health, wellbeing and contentment. This was to change with the curiosity of Pandora, who made the tragic mistake of opening a cursed box gifted to her by the immortals themselves for the sake of testing her willpower in consort with her ability to toe the line and follow simple instructions. Save for being the source of all misfortunes for mankind, Pandora also became the reason for the gods and goddesses to desert their corporeal posts. Even Astraea, the most tolerant and patient amongst them, surrendered all hope of a swift redemption for mankind and fled to the mount of heaven when she saw that the ravages of war had escalated to a degree of barbarity that left expired mercenaries without dignity. It is said that Astraea will descend from her celestial throne to Earth again when the human psyche returns to its former Adamic state of spiritualization.

The second symbol, an astrological shorthand for the zodiacal sign, looks like the small letter ‘m’ with a curved projection linking the top and bottom parts of the third leg. As a sygil, it bears a great many resemblances to two subsequent signs, Libra and Scorpio, both of which are intensely concerned with the collective social and psychospiritual evolution of humanity. On a great many occasions we find that the uroboric loop formed by the final leg is represented as a fish, the Piscean totem. Therefore we can infer that the glyph is denoting an ethereal condition where spirit or vital essence is in the process of incarnating in the dense, lower world of physical forms.

Both symbols together recall characteristics central to the Virgo archetype–discrimination, intelligence, refinement, serenity, self-control, dedication, assiduousness, orderliness, and self-discipline. Over and above the positive connotations linked to them, these qualities are typical by-products of highly evolved and spiritual states of consciousness mediated by Virgo’s formative energies. We can be certain that both signs place immense emphasis on ascension and specifically the ascension of the human soul because the totemic figure is often shown with a pair of angel wings. The position of Virgo on the great cosmic wheel also reveals that both signs have to make do with maternity and fertility, as well as the condition of having fulfilled all prerequisites leading up to any undertakings meant to test physical, psychological, or spiritual parameters.

#zodiac #astrology #astrotheology #astropsychology #psychology #consciousness

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theonyxpath · 5 years

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Thanks everyone who commented on our blog posts last week. Hearing from you was both informative and very helpful. As you might imagine, we spent a fair amount of time during this week’s Monday Meeting discussing the reactions we’ve encountered.

End of the day, we’ve tried from the beginning of Onyx Path‘s existence to bring in new and diverse creators onto our projects, and now that we’re starting to make that work, we’re not going to let them feel threatened here.

Dystopia Rising: Evolution art by Sam Denmark

While it might seem like a tonal shift to now start talking about the Lunars Kickstarter; all of last week and into the meeting today we looked to this KS as an awesome positive example of what we do in the midst of a lot of negativity.

Gotta have light shining in the dark, gotta have the good with the bad.

Part of why we’re grooving on the Kickstarter and all the great comments and posts about Lunars as we “leak” out parts of the manuscript, is that we’re hearing so many folks enjoying what they are reading. That’s great, and it is what we hoped for, as there’s always been a feeling on the creative level that the last two editions just didn’t do full justice to the Lunars.

As per the blog title: 3rd time’s the charm. (All the puns and allusions intended).

Here’s hoping everyone’s enthusiasm stays stoked once all the text is revealed by the end of the Kickstarter – we certainly think it’s all great!

Trinity Continuum: Aeon art by Gunship Revolution

Something else that I’m personally thrilled by is the Scarred Lands game being played by Devil’s Luck Gaming on their Twitch channel here:https://twitch.tv/videos/385880467

For me, I was very impressed by the costuming and design of the promo I saw, but started chortling when I saw the Slitherin ratman all made up and squeaking! See, I was the one who originally wrote their first descriptions in the first Creature Collection.

And no, I did not name them after the House. I had not even read those books when I gave them that name, but boy did I realize how it sounded after I did! I was going more for the feel of them slithering up out of the ground and from sewers, with dirty jagged daggers in hand.

So it’s an absolute thrill to see one of them being played, and played so well. Check it out if you can.

Dystopia Rising: Evolution art by Marco Gonzales

Finally, we talked about the Onyx Pathcast interview with Eric Zawadzki about his work on Deviant, and how he has stepped into Dave Brookshaw’s shoes as developer of the book.

You can hear Eric’s enthusiasm for Deviant, and how infectious that is during the interview, and we’re all extremely excited to be getting closer to presenting this new kind of supernatural for Chronicles of Darkness.

Eddy notes several times how the themes of Deviant are very basic, very grounded, and very evocative for our current time. Deviants are very accessible as characters, and very flexible in what could inspire them. There are just so many pop culture references that could be drawn from, as well as classical stories of quests for revenge and payback.

Take a listen, if you have the time, and I think you’ll agree just from listening to Eric, Dixie, and Eddie talk about the game. Link down below in the BLURBS! section.

Until next week, remember:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Two weeks into our Kickstarter for the Deluxe version of EX3‘s Lunars (that funded in less than 40 minutes) and we are over 300% funded and have over 1777 backers! Multiple Stretch Goals have already been achieved, and we’ve just gotten started. So c’mon and get your beast-form on and join the fun

The Story Told Podcast has a wonderful interview about Lunars: Fangs at the Gate: https://thestorytold.libsyn.com/bonus-episode-5-exalted-lunar-ks-interview-with-eric-minton

ONYX PATH MEDIA

Illustration by Michael Gaydos

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast has our Terrifying Trio taking a break from TTRPGs to look at card and board games that they know and love. https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

And Here’s More Media About Our Worlds:

If YOU have a podcast, YouTube or Twitch channel, or talk about games on a blog or other website, and want to perform actual plays or make reviews of our games, please reach out to the Gentleman Gamer on the Onyx Path forum. From there we’ll share emails and get you started, so when you do start producing content we’ll be able to promote it on our blog and YouTube channel!

The Story Told Podcast started on their character creation session for Wraith: The Oblivion, which you can find here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/episode-21-wraith-character-creation

On our channel, we uploaded the first episode of Red Moon Roleplaying’s Changeling: The Lost actual play: https://youtu.be/vNlAmsFrMiQ

Not only that, but we continued the They Came from Beneath the Sea! actual play, also run by Red Moon Roleplaying: https://youtu.be/fY7sRVqiOl0

Ah yes!

Devil’s Luck Gaming have just commenced their Scarred Lands campaign on Twitch, named Pirates of Blood Water. It’s for mature audiences only and we hope you enjoy! https://twitch.tv/videos/385880467

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here’s an update from the App devs:

Onyx Dice! We’ve recently released the Changeling: The Lost, Trinity Continuum: Aeon dice, and now the Geist dice. Next up on our radar is: Demon: The Fallen, Mummy: The Resurrection, Kindred of the East, Vampire Dark Ages, and Mummy: The Curse.

We have a serious issue on the Pixel and Motorola phones that prevent the user from using the app correctly. A fix is coming shortly. A temporary workaround is to minimize the app without shutting it down, and then restore it.

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can now order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

And available this week! Deluxe Changeling: The Dreaming and Deluxe Beckett’s Jyhad Diary! The additional books we have after the Kickstarter ship-outs are done are now at IPR!

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

This Wednesday, we’re offering our monthly Exalted 3rd PDF releases!

CONVENTIONS

UK Games Expo: May 31st – June 2nd Gen Con: August 1st – August 4th Save Against Fear: Oct 12-14 GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd We’ll also be back at PAX Unplugged later this year. n!

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Geist2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Distant Worlds (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Heroic Land Dwellers (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Redlines

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Let The Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Manuscript Approval:

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Editing:

Aeon Aexpansion (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

V5 Chicago By Night Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

C20 Novel: Cup of Dreams (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Scion Jumpstart (Scion 2nd Edition)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Post-Editing Development:

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Edition)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Wr20 Book of Oblivion (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Indexing:

Ex3 Dragon Blooded (Exalted 3rd Edition)

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

The Realm – Gong’s and Yiyhoung’s stuff in… Gunship and Priscilla are working.

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Chicago By Night – AD’d.

Aeon Aexpansion – Emailing artists.

They Came From Beneath the Sea!

EX3 Lunars – KS going.

Signs of Sorcery

Hunter: The Vigil 2

Shunned By the Moon – All artists contracted again.

Book of Oblivion – Sketches coming in slowly but surely- some finals.

Contagion Chronicle – AD’d for KS.

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Dystopia Rising: Evolution

Proofing

M20: Gods and Monsters – Satyr Phil inputting backer errata.

Pugmire Roll of Good Dogs and Cats

Adventures for Curious Cats

Trinity Core – Mind Meld.

Trinity Aeon – Mind Meld.

Ex3 Dragon Blooded – Indexing.

Geist 2e – 2nd Proof.

C20 Player’s Guide

False Images – EX3 novel – Finishing inputting backer errata.

In Media Res

At Press

Scion Hero – Getting printer proofs this week.

Scion Origin – Getting printer proofs this week.

Scion Dice – At Studio2.

Scion Screen – At Studio2.

Fetch Quest – At Studio2

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE:

Today in 1971, Sean Astin was born and then was raised by Gomez Addams. Later, he searched for pirate treasure with his goony friends, played football, and became a gardener for the Baggins family. After a long journey to return a particularly memorable piece of jewelry to the manufacturer’s facilities for a refund, he was elected Mayor of his town of residence. Let’s hear it for “our Sam”!

#Onyx Path Publishing

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galacticnewsnetwork · 6 years

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What Happens When Fandom Doesn't Grow Up?

Adults are insisting childhood brands from 'Star Wars' to Marvel continue to cater to them, but does preserving the past limit the future?

There’s a proverb that says, “you can’t take it with you,” popularized by playwrights George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart in their 1936 Pulitzer Prize-winning production of the same name. The expression was in reference to our inability to take our material possessions with us to the afterlife, though opinion differs on whether this advice is a suggestion to spend freely, or to not worry about collecting pricey material possessions at all — the conclusion being that our possessions only have worth in the present, or that they may not have as much value in the grand scheme of life as we think.

Though the idiom is seen through the perspective of mortality, it works just as well when viewed through the lens of life’s transitional periods, particularly childhood to adulthood. The notion that we can’t take it with us is arguably a sibling to 1 Corinthians 13:11, which states: When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I set aside childish ways.” Perhaps these expressions once carried weight, but in our current age of pop culture, a living and breathing monument to nostalgia, it has become harder and harder for adults to leave the things they loved as children behind.

From superheroes, Star Wars, fairy tales, and cartoons, the things many of us loved as children remain something we love today – protectively, passionately, and even problematically. This fierce nostalgia is arguably even more common with Millennials whose instantaneous embrace of the internet has allowed very few childhood staples to slip through the cracks in memory. Even if we’re not buying lightsabers, Hulk hands, or Barbie Dream Houses anymore, these characters and concepts are possessions that reside with many of us and sometimes define a key aspect of our identities. Previous generations, less driven by early age consumerist culture, don’t quite have the same involvement as late game Gen Xers and Millennials. In other words, no one is asking for a Lincoln Logs movie. Our inability, or maybe our unwillingness, to put childish things behind us and accept their temporary value isn’t an inherently negative facet of generational culture. But it is interesting how this modern nostalgia presents itself.

Courtesy of Walt Disney Studios Motion PicturesAvengers: Infinity War Still

If you take a brief perusal of the Twitter reactions to the teaser for the live-action Kim Possible TV movie that Disney Channel released last Aug. 10, you’ll find plenty of opinions from people upset with the casting, claims it could never live up to the cartoon, or fans hyped with the addendum that "this is for us, not the kids." These passionate, often volatile responses about a once popular kids cartoon are overwhelming from adults. Similar sentiments came after Nickelodeon announced a CGI animated version of the Rugrats and released an image of the updated Chucky. More alarming were male commenters on Twitter photos for the new She-Ra cartoon, noise that basically resulted in a claim that the cartoon character should be “hotter,” and closer to the depiction of the character in the 1985 Filmation cartoon.

There’s an intense desire that these new iterations and reboots not be for the kids of today, but for those in their 20s and 30s. A quick search online will deliver any cartoon character from the '90s you could think of as adult contemporary versions. Some artists, like Brandon Avant, whose work went viral last year, have brought a real craft to these reimaginings of the characters from Doug, Goof Troop, and Arthur, as adults in their 20s, tattooed and stylish. There’s certainly fun to be had in alternative depictions of fictional characters, but there’s also a sense that many fans of these '90s shows would prefer these versions brought back to life on TV and movie screens, as opposed to anything geared towards children.

This feeling of ownership stems from an idea that kids today don’t care about certain characters anymore, at least not in the same way that those of us who grew up in the late '80s and '90s did, or do. Perhaps there is something to that. How many of the properties popularized in the '80s or '90s would still be popular without the adult fandom that keeps it alive through memes and Buzzfeed posts? Of course there are properties like Star Wars, Marvel, and Disney animated movies that are eternal. But there are also properties like Gargoyles, Animaniacs, and So Weird that would draw a blank for many kids today. Even once popular shows and platforms like Looney Tunes and The Muppets have fallen out of favor among children in terms of the position they used to hold with previous generations. While the rumored Space Jam 2 starring Lebron James may bring some children back on board with Warner Bros’ classic library of toons, there’s also the fact that that project currently seems to be more anticipated by those who grew up with the original 1996 film. Perhaps the only way to keep some of these characters and concepts alive is to cater to the now adult audiences. But what happens when these characters grow up?

Properties like Marvel, Star Wars, and Disney’s reimaginings of animated classics have managed to bridge the generational gap, appealing to children, adults, and elderly audiences. While Disney collectively has managed to find a way to appeal to almost everyone, there are a few recent examples that call into question the desire to really see our childhood heroes grow up. Rian Johnson’s Star Wars: The Last Jedi created controversy last December, a controversy that has unfortunately bled into 2018 in regards to its depiction of Luke Skywalker, who has become bitter and disconnected from the force. Luke Skywalker grew up, got old, got tired, and got fandom in their feelings over the fact that the Jedi wasn’t leading the charge across space, green lightsaber in hand. While The Last Jedi is a commentary on the failure of the previous generation, setting the stage for new characters Rey, Finn, Rose, and Poe to start their own revolution on their own terms and “let the past die,” many Star Wars viewers weren’t interested in seeing the next generation take charge and instead clung to defunct canon. While many want these characters to grow up with them, they want them to grow up on their own terms, and if not to remake the plot points of their childhoods, then at least to recreate the feeling they got from those original films.

Laurie Sparham/DisneyChristopher Robin

A similar situation of childhood properties expected to grow up under strict terms followed the release of Marc Forster’s Christopher Robin. While Winnie the Pooh remains a beloved children’s property, kept alive by various television shows and animated movies, Christopher Robin tells a story where the titular boy has become a man and left his childhood friends, Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, Eeyore behind in the Hundred Acre Wood. Christopher Robinisn’t only the first iteration of the property to be rated PG, it’s also deeply melancholy, and grounded in the working class struggle of post-World War II London. Favoring dark grays and weather-worn cinematography, along with allusions to the directorial touches of Terrence Malick, Christopher Robin often feels explicitly geared towards adults. Yes, there are moments of warmth, brightness, and the humor that made A.A. Milne and E.H. Shepard’s stories so beloved in the first place, but unless you have a kid who’s eagerly sitting down to watch Days of Heaven, there’s a lot in Forster’s presentation geared towards adults. The reaction to this take has been somewhat mixed, with a number of critics lamenting the film’s more serious insights and a lack of fun. But what’s interesting is that Christopher Robin speaks directly to the phenomenon we’ve been discussing. Christopher Robin (Ewan McGregor) realizes that being an adult doesn’t necessarily mean leaving childhood things behind, but incorporating them into adulthood. While this revelation doesn’t take Christopher Robin into Ted (2012) territory, there are interesting parallels to these stories of men who are incomplete without the literal representations of their childhood in tow.

The Happytime Murders

Perhaps this is all a rather roundabout way to approach the issue of Muppets offering unsolicited sex and hard drugs in Happytime Murders, but nonetheless, the sentiment remains true. We don’t really want to put away childish things, we want them to grow up with us. Brian Henson’s R-rated crime-comedy film starring Melissa McCarthy, earned its share of pre-release controversy, with the Sesame Workshop suing production company STX for the use of the tagline “No Sesame. All Street.” Sesame Street remains popular among young audiences, but the Disney owned Muppets have largely fallen out of favor with the last movie The Muppets Most Wantedmaking a poor box office showing ($80.4 million on a $50 million budget), and sitcom The Muppets being canceled in 2016 after one season. With Disney seemingly having no plans for the characters anytime soon, perhaps Brian Henson’s best bet to keep his father’s art-form alive, if not the characters themselves, was to appeal to a desire to see Muppet-esque characters in adult situations, something that worked well for the popular Broadway musical Avenue Q.

Not every modern resurrection of once sensational properties has opted to appeal to adults. R.L. Stine’s book series Goosebumps, which led to a popular television series in the '90s, was adapted as a film in 2015. A sequel, Goosebumps 2: Haunted Halloween is set for release on Oct. 12 this year. The first film is kids’ movies through and through, and trailer for the sequel indicates that this new installment will go even further in that direction, given its younger cast. This doesn’t mean the films don’t register with adults, but rather they aren’t appealing to our nostalgia, going as far to drastically redesign some of the characters popularized by Fox Kids/YTV show and refrain from utilizing the classic theme song. The Goosebumps films haven’t grown up with us, but rather see kids of Gen Z as their primary audience.

Ava DuVernay’s A Wrinkle in Time (2018) is another film that struck a chord with younger audiences more so than adults who read the book series growing up, or those who remember the 2003 ABC television film. It’s a film that aims to be an intelligent kids’ movie, a big-budget PG experience that we rarely see in live-action theatrical releases anymore. Films like Goosebumps and A Wrinkle in Time ask us to meet kids on their level, rather than asking them to rise to an adolescent or adult level to enjoy the things we refuse to loosen our grips on. With films based on Are You Afraid of the Dark and Barbie set to receive new interpretations, and a Sandlot(1993) prequel in development, it will be interesting to see which audience demographic they appeal to and how much nostalgia they’ll give into. We’re living in the height of pop culture adaptations, and if we’ve proven anything, it’s that we’ll take these childish ways with us as far as we can.

Source: Hollywood Reporter by Richard Newby

#star wars #marvel #toxic #toxic fandom #fandom #fans #truefan #movies #audience #hollywood reporter #article #news

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innuendostudios · 6 years

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Thoughts on... a few games

[discussion of A Case of Distrust, Gray Skies Dark Waters, and The Lion’s Song below the cut. there won’t be any major spoilers, but I will be at least alluding to some things that you might be better off not having heard allusions to if you want to play the games.]

Thoughts on A Case of Distrust

I heard rumblings about A Case of Distrust on Games Twitter, and, while the pitch sounded enticing, there wasn’t any demo and I didn’t want to buy a game I knew next to nothing about. I put hands on it for a few minutes at PAX East this weekend and immediately bought it from the developer. (I confess the discounted PAX price helped.)

The enticing pitch is as follows: You play PC Malone, the only female private detective in 1924 San Francisco. PC mostly gets adultery gigs - snoop jobs for suspicious wives - but snags her first proper case from a shady rum runner investigating some death threats he’s received. Things get dicier when her client shows up dead the following morning. The art and presentation are killer, the downtempo jazz soundtrack is choice, and I appreciate the way the game leans in to having a female protagonist in a classically male role.

This isn’t some alternate-history 1924, where women are treated with equal respect to men. PC quit the police force after the death of her biggest advocate, her uncle Lewis, knowing that none of the other policemen would let her work real cases. So she struck out as a private dick, and is constantly underestimated by the suspects she interrogates. (Though it wasn’t explicitly mentioned in my playthrough, it’s a safe bet she goes by PC instead of Phyllis so that potential clients won’t know she’s a woman until they meet her in person.) (Also PC is interactive fiction speak for Player Character.)

The whole of the interface is a fairly robust notetaking system, where you can interrogate any suspect about any statement made by any other suspect or any evidence you’ve seen. Getting new bits of information and using them to contradict a suspect’s story is the whole game. It has one thing to do and it does it well: letting you construct a theory of what happened in your head and test every piece before making an accusation. It’s something a lot of mystery games imply while actually doing the hard parts for you, and, while I wouldn’t say A Case of Distrust completely forsakes handholding, it knows what the fun bits are and lets you do them yourself.

What the game is missing is... a plot. A Case of Distrust has a complete first act: it has an inciting incident with the rum runner hiring PC, it sets up its themes about PC’s feelings of failure as she tries to live up to her uncle’s example, it introduces its central characters and hints at its world of seedy speakeasies and businesses that serve as criminal fronts, it has an unexpected (and very artfully directed) dream sequence, and the first act ends with the rum runner’s death.

It also has an ending.

Between them, there’s no real plot. There’s a mystery, for sure, and what hardboiled detective story would work without one? And it opens with an excellent nod to the scene in The Long Goodbye where Philip Marlowe fails to feed his cat. But it doesn’t have the scene where Sam Spade meets with Gutman and then passes out from a spiked drink, or where Jake Gittes sleeps with Evelyn and then tails her car through Los Angeles, or where Brendan Frye gets thrown in Tug’s trunk and driven to meet with The Pin. There’s no rising or falling action, no setups or payoffs, no setbacks or reversals. There’s just the mystery. Every suspect stays right where you left them - one guy sits in a chair waiting for his barber to get back for the entire game - and the only thing that happens between you and any of them is conversation. There’s not even much in the way of red herrings; you can have a bad theory, but there’s never anything that sends you down the wrong path to eventually turn up nothing.

Even the threads about PC trying to be a proper detective in a world that doesn’t take her seriously, though not exactly dropped, are unsatisfactorily resolved. (Frankly, the defiance of gender politics would go down easier if the female suspects weren’t the same old noir tropes, jealous gangster molls with no real agency.) The whole affair ends pretty abruptly, save for an obligatory sequel tease.

The game is worth playing, certainly - more mysteries should have that notetaking system - but I hope the next one recognizes that the mystery itself is the least important part of a noir. It’s what happens around the mystery that makes or breaks it.

Thoughts on Gray Skies, Dark Waters

Another mystery of sorts, though, in this one, the female detective is simply a daughter trying to find out why her mother vanished the year before. There aren’t any interrogations or recovered murder weapons, just a girl wandering her home town and asking her friends and family what they know.

It’s hard to discuss Gray Skies, Dark Waters without addressing its production values. I’ve played a number of microbudget indie games in my day, but even small-scope adventure games have a hard time looking polished without a decent amount of money. Gray Skies, Dark Waters is maybe the roughest-hewn game I’ve ever bought off of Steam. There’s no character animation to speak of: main character Lina has a walk cycle and that’s it. Everyone else has a talk animation and a standing/sitting-in-place idle animation. (This is another game where everyone stays in the same place waiting for you to come talk to them for the entire game; only one character shows up in a second place.) No one’s lips move when they talk. No one moves their hands when ostensibly handing inventory objects to each other. Voice actors are very clearly recorded using different mics, because the audio quality differs wildly from character to character, sometimes from line to line spoken by the same person.

I want to say this up front because I want to get it over with. I came up on TIGSource, I’m used to rough edges. None of this matters if the story is good.

I’m not sure the story is good.

It’s definitely not bad, though it’s hard to talk about without spoiling anything because the game is very short. Lina and her family have been living alone with her dad for the last year, ever since their mom disappeared. Much of the game’s appeal is in the details: Looking for clues means hearing Lina’s musings on her house, and, by extension, her life before and after her mother’s disappearance. Talking to her siblings is one part investigation and several parts painting a picture of different ways children deal with grief. And, frankly, the dialogue and characterizations are quite good. Some of Lina’s poetic commentary is overwrought, and the siblings can be a bit one-note, but foibles of a talented writer who hits the mark more often than she misses.

The game’s biggest setback is that there’s just not much mystery to the mystery. The explanation is not the kind of thing you’d assume from the outset, but you’re going to have it figured out by the midpoint. This makes the gameplay feel less like uncovering a narrative and more going through the motions. It can almost feel like a third-person walking sim, where you’re just moving through the narrative, not really directing yourself through it.

But I like walking sims, so that’s not really a complaint either.

On the whole, I think there’s a lot of value to playing a game like this. I’m not sure I’ve experienced an adventure game that was this comfortable with sadness. Plenty of games have broken my heart before, but not many are about the laborious process of mending one. If it has a failing, it’s that it’s insubstantial. This isn’t a portrait of grief or of family life, it’s a sketch. It has barely enough time or budget to glimpse the big picture before its over. But it’s a big picture worth glimpsing, I suppose, of a subject rarely addressed in games.

I’d call it a worthwhile experience. That’s not quite a recommendation, but it’s not not a recommendation, either.

Thoughts on The Lion’s Song

Of these three games, The Lion’s Song is the most ambitious. It’s a pastiche of pre-war Austria’s art and science culture, viewed through three vignettes and a coda. Each character is devoted to a particular passion and is trying to create their first real masterpiece: Wilma is trying to compose a symphony (the titular Lion’s Song), Franz is trying to break through a person block with his painting, and Em is trying to write a mathematical proof but has to disguise herself as a man to work with other mathematicians.

The gameplay is largely about how each character manages the personal issues that both impede and inform their work. The player helps Wilma tune out the parts of her environment that distract her and focus on things that give her inspiration; helps Franz pick and converse with his portrait subjects to try and locate their essence; and helps Em extrapolate a proof about objects in conflicting states from her own dual existence as both man and woman. This is all done very artfully, with a number of visualization tricks and some gorgeous sepia pixel art.

The writing is also quite lovely across the board.

The weakest link is the final chapter. I’m not the first to say so. Each episode has cameos of the characters from the other chapters, and the episodes are even more tightly related thematically. But I’m not the first to say that the ending, which aims to tie them all together narratively shoots for the moon and lands somewhere short of the stars. What it’s going for is a sobering reality check on what happened to the mini-Renaissance in Europe at the dawning of Modernist thought, and it’s very poignant on paper, but in practice it just comes out of nowhere, to the point where it feels like a cheat. In an episodic story where you rely on the ending to tell you what it was all about, not sticking the landing casts a shadow backwards on the whole series.

The other elephant in the room is the problem with telling stories about genius artists: You have to be a genius to pull it off.

The devs can’t really sell Wilma as a genius composer if we’re going to hear snatches of her symphony, or Franz as a genius painter if they’re going to show us his paintings, or Em as a mathematical prodigy if they’re going to show us her proof, if any of these things are not made by actual geniuses. The music is lovely, but it’s being sold as holding its own with Stravinsky; the art is pretty, but it’s sold as holding its own with early Duchamp; Em’s proof is either based on real math but simplified until it’s unrecognizable, or it’s gobbledygook that’s meant to sound sort of like math.

I never want to be the guy who asks “why is this a game,” but one might pull this off better in a non-audio/visual medium. (Then again, Marc Estrin tried to pull this thing where he’d make up “genius” symphonies and ballets that took pages and pages to describe in Insect Dreams, and that book was insufferable.)

As an analysis of how artists and scientists push through creative blocks, it’s a bit over-simple. But as a kaleidoscope of the artistic culture and the social and political pressures of Vienna at the turn of the century, it’s kind of wonderful. (Or, at least, 3/4 of it is.) The first episode is free and the whole endeavor is worth checking out.

#capsule review #Adventure Games #writings

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