#i’m not looking for beef I just love this movie and I think it’s so sad that it gets trashed for inaccurate costumes

[legglessdraws]

started thinking about gerwigs little women again and I just. I have no idea why it won best costume design, that was total bullshit, and I understand everyone around my internet liking the 1994 movie version better for multiple reasons, (especially how it’s obviously *such* a comfort movie and the costumes are incredible) but like. as a person who did not grow up with the 1994 movie and watched both of them back to back

gerwigs little women is an *incredible* film. and based on it’s merits as just, a film, I think it’s better than the 1994 one. liking the 1994 movie more is legit obviously but. the 2019 one is better.

gerwig took this story that is about and for women and looked at it through a contemporary lens and made an interpretation that just fucking floored me. jo’s “women…”-speech at the end of the movie?? the whole scene with lauire’s proposal where it’s so obvious and jo understands that it doesn’t matter how much she loves him, them getting married would ruin everything they have, but saying no *also* ruins it. that they’re both trapped in the roles society has given them and makes it impossible for them to be human with each other. that society makes it impossible for jo to be human - just a person. and it translates so well to modern audiences while still (in my opinion) preserving the spirit of the original. women want and need and fight and cry and love and they’re just… human.

also everyone in it really put their whole pussy in their performances

[pebblezone]

Living life yay huzzah yay

[bagofshinyrocks]

Period Comfort

Prompt: How the boys act when their S/O is on their period. [Requested by @weebumochi]

Featuring: TF141 and Los Vaqueros - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, and Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: reader menstruates, but no mention of genitalia; menstruation discomfort; nothing else i can think of, but lemme know if there's more

John Price

Always gets you water and a fresh cup of tea once your cups looks a little low.

Finds out what meals are best for someone on their period and focuses on making those for the week.

You two would make food with beef, eggs, and fish (if you eat them); spinach, squash, and brussel sprouts. All the nutritious stuff. 

And then he would make treats for you, especially dark chocolate on almonds or walnuts. Bring you bananas, berries, figs. You felt like ancient Mesopotamian royalty. All things that were also good for you, but were more traditional period comfort food of “sweet”. 

If you really needed to eat half a family sized bag of barbeque potato chips, he would fetch them and put them in a bowl for you. No questions asked. No movement in the eyebrows. A loving smile as he asks what movie you two were going to watch.

 But for dinner, he’s making something without so much… sodium.

Does everything he can to make your period easier on you.

Simon Riley

Doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re on your period, but that shit is on the calendar. Doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s all “oh is it that time of the month?”. So he pretends nothing is different.

He’s always so sweet to you, but he’s especially so when you’re on your period.

There are absolutely no gibes or pokes at the tender part of your heart. And whenever you’re most hormonal (which is also on the calendar), he might not tease you at all. Because one time he was a little snarky with you, and normally it would roll right off, but you were just a teensy bit too hormonal. And you got quiet. And your lip quivered. And he didn’t stop apologizing the whole day.

Any shows or movies he normally sighs about (but still sits down and watches… and gets invested in, the lying shit), there is no fussing.

“Alright, lovie, sounds good. Do you want another cuppa while I’m up?”

Need some quiet time by yourself? He has some errands to run, let him know what you want for dinner.

Just does his best to make sure you never feel crazy when you’re on your period.

Kyle Garrick

When the worst of your period comes in, it becomes the typical night in.

The dumbest movies that you two love. Dessert eaten before dinner. Favorite takeout and all the accoutrement available. A glass of wine or some other treat beverage. Matching pajama sets.

Kyle had almost fallen asleep when you massaged a yummy-smelling hair mask into his scalp, and then pulled a ‘oh I was just resting my eyes’. And then he returned the favor, painting a luxurious facial mask on you. Making hearts on your cheeks, then spreading them out. You were fairly sure he drew boobs on your forehead, but then smeared it out and insisted you were just imagining it.

You give each other manicures, and hand feed the other food whilst their nails dried. Kissing chocolate and strawberries off each others lips and chins.

Once his hair was wrapped up, he’s all snuggled up in your arms. The heat and weight of his body against your abdomen was soothing. And the gentle snoring of the love of your life.

Everything he can to make you feel comfortable and attractive in your own skin.

Johnny MacTavish

He gets up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run (like a fucking psycho). Once you wake up, he wants to go to the gym with you. Whether or not you work out, or just poke his butt because it’s funny, he wants you there. But not today. Your cramps, or just the general yuckiness of menstruating, makes you want to not leave the house.

So he hops on the internet, and finds the workouts, stretches, and yoga poses that would help you feel better.

The most gentle workout he’s had in his life. Stretching with the speed of tai chi, leaning against your back and chatting quietly.

Kisses wherever he can reach as you two figure out the yoga poses. Sticks his ass out as far as he can so you’ll poke it. Whistles whenever you begin a pose that’s even marginally suggestive. Waggles his eyebrows and maybe even cops a feel.

Double checks that you aren’t overexerting yourself. Stops for water (and kiss) breaks and asks how you’re feeling. What’s helping, what’s not helping? Time to stop, or keep going?

Helping with the physical and visceral symptoms so you’re more comfortable.

Alejandro Vargas

If he can, he’s clearing the schedule for the worst day of the week. Does grocery shopping and laundry before, so there is essentially nothing to do that day when Mother Nature is curb-stomping you.

Spoils you with a long lie-in. The sun has long since come up by the time you wake up to massages and kisses.

You join him for breakfast and a quick rinse off shower, and then you two crawl right back into bed. Leaning against him as he kneads the skin and muscles of your abdomen or back, a movie or the radio as ambient noise.

Maybe you fall back asleep. Maybe you watch an entire TV show. Maybe you putter about and do some light home-making. The goal is that you are fully rested.

I bet science says that you can’t “catch up on sleep”, but it’s still nice to have a day where you sleep for most of it. Especially when it’s curled up in bed with your sweet lover. His hands on you for the entire day, closely followed by his lips.

His whole body squeezing you tight when you try to leave, and wrapping around you again once you return.

Just physically reminding you of how much he loves you.

Rodolfo Parra

Once he sees a menstrual product wrapper in the bathroom trash can, he’s off to make the most professional grocery run you’ve ever seen.

Knows exactly which products you use, and checks which are low. Buys the right medications or products. The snacks that you love (that won’t betray you later with a stomach ache), and the little drink treat that’s for special occasions. 

You swear that he hears the crinkle of a wrapper in the bathroom and marches to the store.

Puts the groceries away while you’re finishing up the breakfast dishes and then offers you the little beverage and maybe a treat.

He guides you to the couch or back to bed, sidling up next to or behind you and kisses you deeply. Arms roaming and then settling in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Pressing against you as if you could become one.

Cuddles in the way that is most comfortable, whether you’re in his lap or laying down. Kisses you all over. Hand feeds you until you’re giggling too hard.

He never wants you to run out of the supplies you need, or feel any less sexy while menstruating. Because you are always so sexy to him.

Posted: 2024 January 7

[no1heyyyyyyyy]

Sevika's tastes

Sevika is an old lady and she just wants to be left alone. She likes to look good but when it comes to clothes, Miss thing just doesn’t care that much. She always has practicality in mind. So, no dresses, nothing flowy, has to have natural fabrics so that her skin can breathe, and she requires that things are comfortable. Her shoes are always made for hardware with a strong sole and often reinforced. In the modern world, I see her working in metal working (specifically welding), so she has to have clothes that are multipurpose. Though, if she was forced to wear anything really nice, it would be a simple well-cut blazer and a button down with jeans or slacks that conform to her legs nicely. She prefers earthy colors, nothing too flashy. I think she’d really appreciate a nice dark green, or perhaps brown. I also feel that she would enjoy a nice flannel regularly.

With food, I’m afraid her palette is as unrefined as her clothing choices. She genuinely does not care what she eats, though she really likes chicken- loves hot wings, spicy food is her love. But, her comfort food will always be the food native to what part of India her family is from. I don’t think she’s the best cook, but she has a few family recipes that she knows so well (aloo gobi, chai, samosa, tikka masala, saag paneer). And, I think that on nights where she’s feeling really sad or lonely she always craves those foods. She’d love to cook with or for her partner, it’d be the best way to get to know her honestly. Because it allows for her to show vulnerability through actions and without words. She loves to take care of people and I think in modern times she’d mother her friends just a bit, always making sure they’re eating well, drinking their water, and sleeping right (if not she’ll give them some chai). She doesn’t eat beef or dark meats in general, and she isn’t the biggest fan of seafood or turkey. So, she sticks with her chicken and her paneer. She’ll eat tofu but it needs to be in curry or something similar.

This woman would love 80s hair metal, music is something that I genuinely believe she’d love so much. She’d play drums as a teenager, dead set on becoming the drummer of the next Metallica. She’d also love the old school heavy metal bands, Iron Maiden, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Pantera. She’d love them all. I think she’d like some old school 90s rap too, but none of the new-age mumble rap that’s going on. She wouldn’t really like Taylor Swift’s music, just because it didn’t vibe with her, but she respected Taylor’s ability to get a bag. She has had a huge crush on Adele ever since she heard the album 25 when it came out. She liked some of her music, but thought Adele was drop dead gorgeous and all mature and soulful and shit, hit her in the feels and made her whipped for this woman she didn’t even know.

For movies she loves shitty 80s slasher horror, nothing that makes her think. She’d sit back in her old recliner in her pajamas and house slippers whilst watching Slumber Party Massacre for the third time, and then put on Golden Girls because she feels that Dorothy Zbornak is her spirit animal. She likes a good sitcom too and a ridiculous drama (she loves Desperate Housewives), she likes the camp, the over the top acting and dumb plots, it makes her laugh and feel care free in a way she hasn’t been in a long time. She just wants to curl up with her pets (she would have many) and watch teen-based tv shows that revolve around crime or secrets (Pretty Little Liars, Riverdale, Vampire Diaries, even Buffy etc.). She likes how bad they are, but she gets so invested it’s ridiculous.

For personal scents she’d like more woody, alluring scents that are also kind of sweet. Think Amber by Rag n’ Bone (it smells so good), she doesn’t spray much, just a spritz, it wafts around her just slightly, just enough for women to fall at her feet. Her individual smell wouldn't be overpowering but it would definitely be clear. It’s grounding and soothing. Her sweat stinks though, every time she comes back from the gym, she goes straight to the showers because her own dogs don’t want to come near her b.o.

In general, Sevika is an old woman who couldn’t give less of a shit. She wants to be left alone with her life and her people and chill. Which is why, I feel like she isn’t that opinionated on much unless it’s boundaries or causes she cares about. She just doesn’t have the energy to be bothered with trivial things like which movie to choose for the night, or which restaurant to go to. She is tired and all she wants to do is eat good food with her partner and her pets in a little cottage in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t like neighbors and she doesn’t like people in her business. She doesn’t need a perfect life, just one that’s hers.

for whatever reason the letters are being weird, it is killing me. Please ignore it.

[summer-blues-stuff]

A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately.

(P.s- I’m Indian and live in India and have been to Mumbai multiple times so shhh- )

(P.s.s- all i know about the spider verse comes from the movies so I’ll be focusing more on the Indian aspect. )

So in honour of atsv coming on Netflix-

FOOD- Pavitr live in Mumbai (mumbattan) so he probability of him eating “butter chicken or naan” (traditionally north Indian dishes) on a daily basis is almost nonexistent. (This is not to say he won’t have them occasionally but much of what people think is indian food comes from stereotypical North Indian food, pavitr lives in South Indian)

Popular food of Mumbai includes- vada pav(street food), panipuri(another street food), pav bhaji (not a street food), bhelpuri and sevpuri( you guessed it a street food) and for more every-day food- we have dal-roti or dal-chawal etc

(Edit: I forgot to mention this but, a lot of people are vegetarian either by choice or by religion and don’t eat meat (eating beef is HEAVILY and i mean heavily frowned upon.)

SCHOOL- In india we don’t have middle school or high school, we have grades.

We also have public and private schools (and unlike the USA, private school is not for the uber rich, middle-class families typically send their kids to private school and government(or public) schools are basically free or really cheap). Thus, Pavitr probably studies at a private school.

Keeping that in mind, Students from grade 1-12 study in one building and students actually sit in the same class while the teachers move from class to class. There is also something called school boards but for all our sakes, he studies in a school that follows CBSE guidelines. Now according to google, he’s around 15-16 so he’s in 10th or 11th depending on the school he goes to.

We have these really important exams called the “board exams” ( we just call them ‘boards’) And they are given twice by the students once in the 10th grade and once in the 12th grade and these are like really really important, kinda think of them as psats or sats(lmk if anyone wants to know more about boards) and if he’s in 10th he’ll be giving the boards in May.

After which he’ll pick a stream (medical, non-medical, commerce or failure) that he’s gonna study in 11th. There is a lot of emphasis on studies in India ( if you get good marks in 10th it’s considered that you’re good or ‘set’ for life but thats kinda bs) and it’s really competitive, students often go to tuition (think of them as an after-school school) for hours after school. Maths and science tuitions are the most common.

Uniforms (a half-sleeve shirt with a tie and pants or knee length shorts for guys) are also mandatory and are strictly regulated along with hair and nails. (Two braid or plaits for girls with below the shoulder hair and typically short hair for guys that have to be oiled) so im assuming that he gets called out a lotttttt about his hair, and teachers are constantly on his ass about cutting it which I think is funny af. The school timings are typically from 8-3 and tuitions are typically from 4-7.

It would also be super-cute if his aunt massaged his hair with oil (it’s considered an act of service and something people do to show their love)

10th grade especially is really really stressful in india and if home-boy cries himself to sleep every night I wouldn’t be surprised. So make him supppeeerrrr strrreeeessssed.

Name- Pavitr “Prabhakar” is a Hindu( a religion of sorts) name.

It’s derived from the Sanskrit word “prabhākara” which means “light maker” (from prabhā 'light' + -kara 'causing'), an epithet of the sun. So to those saying he’s a sunshine boy, his surname means light maker (do with that what you will).

Now, for his first name “Pavitr” however there is no exact meaning as, the name is most probably derived from Pavit ; maybe Pavitra(a typical girl’s name) if you’re pushing it. The meaning of Pavit is Love or A lovely and pious individual.

Edit: apparently pavitr does have it’s own meaning and it means pure

So his name roughly translates to lovely (edit: pure) sunshine boy.

Transport- Now i know that he’s spider-man but when he’s not, the most common way to travel in Mumbai is by an automobile (also called auto or auto-riksha).

One of these things ^^ and these ‘go by the meter’ (you basically pay for the distance you have covered and a meter calculates this.) these things are everywhere. You call for one of these by raising your hand and an auto stops in front of you and you ask if they will take you to the place you wanna go to (“bhaiya, _____ lekar chalo ge?”)

There can only be 3 people max on one auto (not including children) as per local government policies.

Another common way to travel is by the subway or local trains. ( and contrary to popular beliefs they are not filled to the brim with people). Cars are not that common as there is a lot of traffic. Like a lot.

Language- Most indians speak at least 2-3 languages- English, Hindi and a local language or two. Since they’re in Mumbai Pavitr probably speaks Marathi. Some people also know Sanskrit (but that’s not that common nowadays).

(Edit: People typically don’t speak in just one language, they typically use a mix of atleast two or three languages which change according to the region they are in. For example- English and hindi is the most common but some may mix in their regional language or dialect)

Also spider in hindi is makri (makdhi?) so i think it would be super funny if people called him makri (makdhi?) man.

People in India also curse a lot (not in English though) (though not in front of parents obviously) and the more people get angry the stronger accent the becomes.

Housing- housing in Mumbai is super expensive, and most people live in flats or apartments rather than houses, Mumbai is considered to be one of the most expensive places to own a home in the world just because of the sheer number of people there.

All flats in mumbai have air- conditioning units in them because it. is. so. humid and winter lasts for a month or two in comparison.

Culture- Mumbai is kind of regarded as one of the culture hubs of India, a lot of up and coming artists along with famous superstars live in Mumbai. There are a lot of exhibitions, shows and whatnot happening all the time.

Mumbai is also more progressive then the rest of India and pride parades do happen here but there is still a lot of stigma around it

(Edit: PDA in public is almost taboo, doesn’t matter who anyone is—kissing in public might actually land you in jail)

Teens typically wear jeans, shorts and graphic tees rather than kurtas or salwar-kamez (traditional clothing) .

Traditional clothing is typically worn on festivals such as holi( the festival of colour( some people wear white suits and kurtas)) or Mumbai’s most celebrated festival- “Ganesh Chaturti” (which is a religious festival religious festival to honour the Lord Ganesha.

Sports- cricket is the most watched sport in India a lot of kids play it on the streets or in parks and gardens, and its an India vs Pakistan match is an event in which everyone in the family (some even invite friends over) sit together and yell at the tv.

Mumbai is a city in which time stops for no one, and people are super busy. This doesn’t mean that people there are rude in fact they are some of kindest and helpful ppl you’ll ever meet(not including the obligatory rude af asshole that are in every community) especially in a city that never stops.

India is also not a country that lives in rags we used to be called sone ki chidiya (or bird made of gold) before the British Invasion so please for the love of god don’t depict everyone living in slums and poverty. The national currency is rupees and again i cannot stress this enough even though there is poverty in india, that doesn’t mean there isn’t prosperity. India is a developing country so keep that in mind while you write.

Religion and caste - This is a very touchy and sensitive subject in India and you should probably research a lot or stay clear of it in general ( especially the caste system its messed up and just stay clear of it) but Gayatri’s father is Sikh or at least punjabi so I’m assuming she is too. ( if she’s from Punjab or its surrounding area, then she probably speaks punjabi or her father most probably does).

(Edit: there are a lot of different religions in india —almost too many to count— and every single one has their own gods, prayers and rituals so please please please research before you write)

But something all Indian (boys) are taught to do is to touch their elders feet to show/ask for respect (and “ashirwad” I don’t know what this translate too directly in English but think of it as blessings)

Anyways here is a not very brief overview on mumbai and pavitr , let me know if you have any questions or if something isn’t really clear, English isn’t my first language so I apologise for the errors.

Please feel free to ask me anything ill do my best to answer back. : D

if you actually find this long ass post helpful and write a fic or something please tag me i would love to read it.

[completelyandtotalyuneventful]

Ok so here’s my SB thoughts after ruin. Spoilers ahead be warned.

The first thought is one that I haven’t actually seen people bring up but I think Cassie is dead. I’d hate for it to be true but I think when Roxy finds her at the end she possesses her and becomes the new “Charlie” if that makes sense, thus kickstarting the cycle again

Greg is absolutely a bot, but (and this is just a little thought I had based on my vague fnaf knowledge I am not a lore keeper) maybe he was made by fazent for kids like Cassie, lonely kids who have no one to play with. Then he gains sentience and starts fucking shit up. Anyways the reason I think he’s a bot is actually because of how Cassie behaved this game. She just acted a lot more human (screaming, crying, fighting back) in this game and it’s weird how different she behaved from Gregory, a kid around her age who is in a similar situation to her.

I don’t think it was grimic at the end who cut Cassie down, I actually do think it was Gregory. Mans is very morally grey, and is shown before to sacrifice lives (yeah I’m calling them lives because the bots are pretty sentient and Gregory knows that) for his goals/the greater good. I don’t think he’s evil or bad, he’s just more of an “ends justify the means” kinda person. He sacrificed Cassie in order to save the lives of the people outside of the pizzaplex, and to save himself, Freddy, and Vanessa. While it’s pretty fucked up what he did it’s not out of character, at least not to me.

If Cassie does live (which I REALLY HOPE SHE DOES I LOVE HER) then I think it would be cool to have two opposing teams of “good guys” working to defeat the mimic, they both have the same goals but have some serious beef with each other (and by the teams I mean Greg, Freddy, and Vanessa vs Cassie and Roxy (and maybe eclipse please please please or chica if her getting repaired becomes canon).

I’m still team “Monty didn’t kill Bonnie or at least he wasn’t in control of his actions when he did” btw. Idgaf what people say or how ominous the story in those cardboard cutouts looked I’m a Monty defender until I die.

Anyways I just really really really loved ruin 10/10 worth the wait I’m gonna cosplay Cassie when I go see the fnaf movie.

[lou-struck]

Sweet Smells

Rensuke Kunigami x reader

Flufftober Day 7

WC: 1.1k 

- You bought a bunch of yummy-smelling fall candles, but the sweet scent of fresh cookies mislead your rather hungry boyfriend when he gets home from soccer practice.

Your hands are firmly on the streaming wheel as you take a deep breath in. The car has never smelt better, but it may be a bit too much.

Your head is beginning to pound, and you can practically see the little swirls of festive fragrance in the air. Your favorite Bath Store just got all their new fall-scented candles today, so you just had to go out and check it out. Fresh Pumpkin pie, cinnamon, vanilla, and more. These sweet smells compelled you to completely buy out the store.

As you pull into your driveway, you look back at the extremely heavy shopping bags in the seats behind you. You’ll have to face the consequences of your actions and bring the dozens of candles inside by yourself. 

Stepping out of the car, the fresh, non-artificially scented air soothes your slight headache as you drag your bags to the door. In the back of your mind, you note that the only thing that feels light is your poor wallet. 

But you couldn’t help it. Money management has never been your strong suit, and everything in the damn Candle shop smelled so good. You hear the glass candles clinking together, and you wish that your boyfriend was able to help you carry all these bags in. 

Yes, Rensuke Kunigami, the muscled Pro- footballer, would definitely be able to carry all these bags of candles with no problem.

But, he is at practices, so you have to struggle to carry in the wonderfully festive-smelling candles all by yourself.

~

It took an embarrassingly long time to do so, but you managed to put all your new three-wick friends away, scattered about the various cabinets and corners of your home.

You chose to bring one of your favorites into your living room to light called Cashmere Cookies, and curl up with a book as a reward. You only make it a few pages before the subtle jingling of keys in your front door captures your attention. 

His practice bag is messily slung over his shoulder, and his coppery hair is completely drenched in sweat, but your boyfriend looks just as handsome as ever. He looks exhausted, but when he sees you all curled up, he can’t help but smile.

“How was training?” You ask, giving him a sweet smile and placing a marker in your novel. You pad over to him and let him hug you, not minding the sweat.

“Long,” he murmurs into your hair. “I hit a PR on back squat today.”

Your brow furrows in concern. “You know I’m always proud of you, but are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” 

“Nah, I’m good.” He mumbles tiredly as he breathes in the air around him. As the scent of your new candle wafts under his nose, the hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Mmmn, it smells good in here. Did you make cookies?

There is so much hope in his eyes at the prospect of a freshly baked cookie after a grueling day of training it breaks your heart. “N-no, it’s just a candle.”

He frowns, sniffing the scented air again. “I see, it smells just like the real thing. I guess I just have food on the brain.” He looks so dejected as he presses a soft kiss on your head. “I’m gonna go rinse off, but after, how about we order something for dinner tonight and watch a movie or something?”

You nod excitedly at the prospect of a cozy night in. And think of something you can do to make it even sweeter. “Sounds great; I’ll order the food while you shower. You want beef, right?”

“You know it.” He chuckles, heading off to the bathroom with slow, tender steps. His muscles are evidently sore from his tough workout.

As soon as he is out of sight, you make a B-line to the freezer. You dig through it until you find a well-hidden cardboard box of cookie dough you had bought from one of your neighbors’ kids’ fundraiser things. 

You know how much your boyfriend loves to take his time relaxing in the shower after a workout, letting the hot water smooth his aching muscles so you have just enough time to pull this little plan off.

It’s rare for Kunigami to have a sweet tooth, so he hadn’t paid any attention to the box. You take it out and place the frozen dough balls onto a cookie sheet, preheating the oven to the instructed amount.

The oven beeps loudly just as you finish placing your takeout order, and you flinch, hoping that your boyfriend doesn’t hear it over the sound of the shower head.

You slide the tray into the oven as sneakily as you can and set a timer on your phone, thinking that since you have it by you, you’ll be able to turn it off just before it beeps. As the minutes pass, you are thankful that your scented candle still fills the air, covering up the smell of the baking cookies in the oven.

“That candle is really playing tricks on me.” He sighs from down the hallway. In your haste to surprise him, you hadn’t noticed the shower turning off. “Food on the way?”

“It’s almost here,” you tease. He is swearing his Superman pajama pants, so he is definitely serious about having a special night with you. “You certainly took your time in the shower. I was worried I was going to have to go check on you and make sure you didn’t fall over.”

“You know, I just like being clean.” He chuckles. His still-damp hair soaks through his gray sleep shorts, but he looks much happier than earlier. All of a sudden, the phone timer begins to blare, the sound hurting your ears as you finch. 

Where is your phone?

“What was that for?” He asks, watching you lunge across the kitchen table, frantically tapping the end timer button on your phone.

“A surprise, but I really got to change my alarm tone; that thing is painful to listen to.” You laugh, grabbing an oven mitt and tossing open the oven door. You pull out the tray of cookies, and he looks at you as if you had just handed him the World Cup trophy. “Dinner won’t be here for another 20 minutes, so I hope you’re okay with having dessert first.”

The look on his face tells you that he won’t object to a cookie or two before dinner.

[disasterarea-podcast]

Okay, I know I probably don’t need to explain this to all of you, but also I want to talk to *somebody* about how I wish I had the sort of pull that would let me see “Society of the Snow” before it ends up on @netflix on January 4th.

“Alive” came out when I was in high school. I was a sophomore, I think? I just know I watched it a bunch for historical reasons (disaster! Survival! Struggle!) and superficial reasons (I was sixteen and Ethan Hawke was in danger!). It was on HBO a lot back then. Or it felt that way, because I watched it every time it came on.

As per usual, I watched the movie, so I went and got the book. (I have an Audible credit, so I’m preordering the audiobook of “Society of the Snow” for work. It comes out in a couple of days, FYI.) The movie is … sanitized, to say the least. They can’t avoid the eating of the dead, or showing it on occasion. But in real life, the situation was more blatant, because … well, who are you going to hide it from? They ate everything else, or at least tried to, before resorting to the dead. And then when they did resort to the dead, they ate it ALL.

The thing is, Uruguayan culture was heavy on beef. “Alive” (the book) describes it the way the Irish depended on potatoes. Eating the dead was difficult, but as Catholics they were able to talk it out and tie it into the rosary and taking the body and blood of Christ into their own. I’m not even a Catholic anymore, but I think even my latent Catholic training might kick in just a tad to help reassure me in a situation like that if I had doubts. (Note: I have been doing this podcast for WAY too long. Survival cannibalism wouldn’t even make me bat an eye at this point.)

My point is that in the real situation, the survivors used everything. And I mean everything. There were only three or four parts of the body they couldn’t eat - I think the genitals were on that list, but don’t quote me on it - but the rest? They picked the bodies clean. They needed to. There’s a photo of the survivors sitting outside the plane, hanging out, smiling for the camera. It’s usually edited. Everything else is kept, but what is usually clipped or blurred is a very clear shot of a human spine, not a spot of meat left on it, just … lying there. It might as well be an airplane seat, or a discarded jacket, or any of the other items scattered about.

I have a tremendous amount of respect for every single one of the people who went through that ordeal. The details are traumatizing enough without having lived through it. Every time somebody makes a “rugby players eat their dead” joke, I cringe.

So here I am sitting watching “Alive” again, because fuck it. The thing is, I have a fondness for this movie based a lot on high school and watching it lots and it introducing me to a survival story I’d never heard of. But I would always be the first to point out I’d love a redo. It’s not as accurate as it could be, it’s in English, it misses out on things like Carlitos Paez’s father searching for him and the others the whole damn time and the reception after they came back.

I’m hoping “Society of the Snow” has all of the things the first movie lacked. I want to see the reception when they came back. I can’t wait to see Carlitos playing his dad, and I hope we get that moment where he reads the list of survivors over the radio and his voice breaks when he gets to his son’s name. I hope we get the reality of survival cannibalism — that it’s not murder, that it’s not pretty, that you might get a little blinded to the horror of the reality.

The trailers for “Society of the Snow” gives me hope it does the story the justice it deserves. There are so many disaster stories that, while they may have gotten TV movies, I would love to see done for the big screen. Hillsborough. The Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire. The Galveston Hurricane. The Johnstown flood. But honestly, the trailers for “Society of the Snow” look gorgeous and respectful. Let’s do more movies like this for more disasters.

[mst3kproject]

Goncharov

Why the hell is an MST3K blog rising from the dead to review a forgotten Martin Scorcese film?  I'd never heard of this movie until it suddenly became a meme, but I had a day off work and I figured I might as well see what all the fuss was about.  Now I want to talk about what I saw, and this is the only movie blog I have, so I'm doing it here.

Ivan Goncharov is the biggest, baddest motherfucker east of the iron curtain, richer than a tsar and colder than a Siberian winter.  He's got a beef with Neapolitan mafioso Mario Giglioli, so he heads to sunny Italy to confront him in person. His closest confidante, Andrey, thinks it's suicide to do this on Giglioli's home turf but accompanies Goncharov anyway out of loyalty. What follows is a two-hour dick-measuring contest as Goncharov and Giglioli try to out-intimidate each other, culminating in an orgy of gunfire where only one will be left standing... and this is the kind of movie where you can't take it for granted that it'll be the guy whose name is the title.

That's the ostensible plot, anyway.  What makes Goncharov a far more interesting film than such an outline might imply is that the argument between the mobsters is just a backdrop.  Having set up Goncharov's hard as steel, cold as ice reputation in the first act, the movie then sets about deconstructing it.  Goncharov goes from a terrifying figure devoid of all morality to a tragic antihero, a man who has come to believe his own hype so completely that he can no longer let himself be human.

This is demonstrated mainly by watching the breakdown of his relationships over the course of the tense three days in Naples.  The most important person in Goncharov's life is Andrey, the only one he comes near being vulnerable with. Their relationship is depicted as very touchy-feely in a literal sort of way, with Andrey helping Goncharov with his coat and shoes, lighting cigarettes for him, and touching his shoulder or arm as Goncharov confides in him.  The framing emphasizes these touches in a very homoerotic way, and I don't think I've got my tumblr goggles on here.  These guys have fucked.

As Goncharov becomes more and more obsessed with being tougher and more ruthless than Giglioli, whom he sees as an effeminate softie, Andrey tries to persuade him that the other man is not worth this sort of obsession.  Whatever Giglioli did to insult Goncharov (we never find out), Andrey is of the opinion that they should just leave a dead horse in the asshole's bed and move on.  Goncharov's pride will not allow him to do that, and the less subtle Andrey is in his attempts to dissuade him, the more Goncharov pushes him away, finally abandoning him entirely.  The tragedy of the ending comes from the fact that Andrey refuses to abandon Goncharov in turn.

We also see Goncharov with his wife Katya.  He is frequently cruel to her, and she tolerates it because he gives her expensive gifts and because she is seeking a vicarious mending of her relationship with her abusive father - she was never able to earn his love, but perhaps she can earn Goncharov's.  This is doomed to failure, as much because of Goncharov as because Katya doesn't actually want it to succeed.  Nursing a black eye, Katya pours her heart out to a bartender, Sofia, who tries to help her escape... but this cannot work out, either.  As Katya herself says, she doesn't know who she is without her issues.

I am pleased to note, by the way, that every single major character in the movie is named and I can remember them all, which is a bit of a treat for me (I need to watch good movies more often).  The only exception is Goncharov himself.  The end credits list him as Ivan, but nobody ever calls him that, not even Andrey or Katya.  In a flashback scene with his parents, neither calls him by name.  This flashback, fascinatingly, is filmed in the first person, looking through Goncharov's own eyes.  We are not allowed to see him as a younger, softer man.  He refuses to show that side of himself even in the privacy of his memories.

These quieter moments contrast with scenes of ever-escalating brutality, as the Russians and Italians try to force each other to back down by the murder of underlings.  The fact that it is literally a contest, and that Goncharov is aware of this and describes it as such, makes the worsening violence ever more meaningless.  The death of Giglioli's confessor is particularly awful, and the way Goncharov's goons treat the chapel has to be ten times worse if you're Catholic (fun fact: this scene is apparently removed from the Italian version on Netflix, which must make what Andrey says while waiting for the train into a hell of a non sequitur).

At the climax, the two really can't do anything but kill each other, because it's the only place left to go.  Giglioli's priest and mistress are dead.  Goncharov's men are almost all dead or out of action, and Goncharov believes Andrey to be dead.  The initial insult, whatever it was, is no longer relevant.  They have pushed each other to a place where reconciliation is unthinkable.  Whoever blinks first loses, but both have already lost so much that victory means nothing.  Worse, each recognizes that the other is in the same position, and neither can acknowledge it.

This means Goncharov can also moonlight as an examination of violence in media.  Why do movies showcase violence, and why do we watch it?  The initial posturing serves a purpose - Goncharov wants Giglioli to know he's here to personally demand an apology, and Giglioli wants Goncharov to know he's outnumbered and should quit while he still can.  But once it becomes an exercise in one-up-manship, the 'messages’ vanish and the men are now killing for the sake of killing.  Violence in movies can often be gore for gore's sake, pulling out more and more stops in the effort to shock an audience that has been desensitized by years and years of this.  That is what Goncharov and Giglioli are doing to each other.  Truly distressing moments like the fate of the priest, or what Giuseppe "Icepick Joe" Cozzolino (dressed as a maid!) does to Sofia when he assumes she's Katya because she was in Katya's hotel room, make us wonder why we're watching this - and the mobsters wonder why they're doing it.

In the end, it's all just a blood-soaked version of the sunk cost fallacy.  Goncharov had come too far in his vendetta to stop now.  Andrey has followed him too far to turn back.  Katya has been married to him too long to leave.  Of course, any of them could quit at any time and escape from this terrible spiral, but they are unwilling to entertain the possibility.  Like Goncharov himself, Andrey and Katya are prisoners of the identities they have built for themselves, and because their identities are so tied to him, they have to go down with him.

One thing I haven't seen a lot of discussion of on tumblr is the way the film uses the contrast in climate.  Goncharov in Moscow is in his element.  When you see his breath in the wintry air it's as if he's breathing smoke like a dragon.  While other people huddle in the cold he stands up straight and tall.  In Naples, on the other hand, he is out of place.  He wears lighter clothing, but continues to choose long coats and upturned collars, while Giglioli goes around with his shirt unbuttoned.  This should serve to emphasize Giglioli's home field advantage and yet, as we see through Goncharov's eyes, they just make Giglioli look soft.  His apparent weakness makes Goncharov want to appear even stronger.

On a related note, it is interesting to me how sunlight is treated as something very unfriendly.  In Russia, it glitters on ice crystals in the air and lights up condensation, harsh and white and giving no warmth whatsoever.  In Italy it bakes and shimmers on stone and asphalt, casting harsh, black-edged shadows and emphasizing creased brows and frowning mouths.  Outdoor scenes are, as far as I can tell, always hostile interactions.  Even indoor scenes in natural light: the priest dies with harsh sunlight streaming in through the broken chapel window.  When characters are softer with each other, it is always under artificial illumination.  Sunlight is too bright, too revealing.  People like this need some shadows to hide in.

Did I like this movie?  That's a tough question.  It's not really the type of movie you 'like'.  It's definitely powerful and well-constructed, thoroughly absorbing and all that.  There's a taste of Greek tragedy in the inevitability of the ending and the way Goncharov is eaten alive by hubris.  But I wouldn't say I liked it.  The characters are all terrible people whose arcs involve them getting worse, and the whole thing feels deeply claustrophobic, as if I, too, am trapped in Goncharov's downward spiral.  When characters realize their mistakes, it is only when it's too late to correct them - but only in their own minds.  It's a very pessimistic story, about human beings who are overcome by the very worst parts of themselves.

Is Goncharov deserving of all those glowing reviews?  Yes.  Was it unfairly snubbed at the Oscars because the academy was turned off by the violence?  Probably.  Will I ever watch it again?  Fuck, no.

Excuse me, I have to go watch some Pixar movies if I ever want to smile again.

[villainousshakespeare]

In Praise of Tom Hiddleston and Female Directors

As a female director (albeit of Theater and not Film) I have been feeling a little frustrated once again as awards season brings no nominations for women. This led me (as many things do, lol) to thinking about my favorite Muse, Tom Hiddleston.

One of the things that I love about TH is willingness and enthusiasm to work with female directors, and on thinking about it I realized that this allyship has also benefited him as well. Case in point:

1. His first movie, Unrelated, was directed by Joanna Hogg. Now, of course all of us see Hiddles as the perfect Beautiful Boy but imagine if this movie had been directed by a man. In that case, Oakley, the handsome younger man who charms and tempts the 40 something woman, would almost certainly be cast with some young beef cake actor, or at very least had them bulk up in order to play the role. This is who male directors seem to think we desire. Instead, Hogg casts TH and boy does she sell him. Oakley is a little shit, but the way he is lit, framed, directed makes him all but irresistible. The female gaze sees all of his ethereal beauty and shares it with us.

2. Next we have my personal favorite, Henry V in The Hollow Crown. In his big leading episode, Tom is once again directed by a woman, Thea Sharrock. Again, look at how his is shot. The female gaze follows him riding in like a hero from our collective imagination in his opening shot. He is strong and dangerous, savage even at times, without ever loosing that thread of empathy that Henry struggles to clamp down. And do I even have to mention the proposal scene? Watch that and tell me it isn’t pure wish fulfillment for the majority of people who fancy men. I liked him when I watched Loki, but Hollow Crown made me fall so deep down the rabbit hole that I may never climb out again (and honestly, I’m okay with this).

3. Lastly, we come to the role that pushed him over the edge into superstardom, The Night Manager. Can there be any doubt that this miniseries was directed by a woman? The entire show was an advertisement for how gorgeous he is. Yes, there are some lovely shots of Elizabeth Debicki in various states of undress, but Pine is the major eye candy here. See him in finely tailored suits, see him astride a motorcycle, see him bathing, both in a waterfall and in a shower covered in mud, see his much lauded English countryside looking all round and pert... it just goes on and on. It is not just the visual that Susana Biers gets either. Unlike other spies of film and television, Jonathan is emotional, chivalrous, and above all intelligent. Tom nails the role and the world loved him for it.

I am not saying that male directors do not make Tom look good (hello Conrad’s arms) or play to his strengths (see the psychological beauty of Adam). I just believe there is something to be said for the qualities that female directors can bring out. 

In short (ha, sorry, this ran on looooong, lol) Tom trusts women directors more than many of his fellow actors, and I think the results are that he shows a vulnerability in his work that helps make him more than just another action star. Women have helped make him the actor he is today, and I don’t believe the fact that his last two directors were women is an accident. He said in his interview for Leading Lady Parts that he needed to work with more directors (he had worked with five at that point I believe) and he has been as good as his word. Another reason to love this man.

* I also want to make a special shout out to stage director Josey Rourke, who has the career that I want and gave us this amazing contribution:

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

maybe i’m mistaken but.. the way the media treats louis has changed a bit. (not necessarily in a Good way just. different?) hear me out.. i was reading this shitty daily mail article that talked about harry’s 30th - and ofc it was filled with all kinds of daily mail typical nonsense. but when it predictably started listing off the “shortcomings” of the other 1d members and how they weren’t nearly as worthy of having their ass kissed as harry, louis’ bit wasn’t as bad as the others..? especially compared to the way they focused on liam’s alcoholism and had several paragraphs dedicated to insulting zayn.

they described him as “pint sized” and said his venues were “noticeably smaller than harry’s” (which, no fucking shit? holo was in the works starting back in 2013). the worst part was alluding to jay and fizzy’s deaths being some kind of “one direction curse”. other than that though - no mention of freddie, the airport arrest, the chile leak (which.. didn’t DM leak that..?), beef with H, tiffs with journalists, etc.

i just think it’s super weird that the worst insults they could come up with were calling him tiny and comparing his tour to H’s? it’s almost like the strategy they’ve collectively taken in the last year-ish is to downplay his success and aid in the gp not taking his solo career seriously (by minimizing any of his solo accomplishments/focusing on 1d/sexualizing or objectifying him) rather than being outright insulting and aggressive and throwing vitriol at him hoping he breaks.

could also just be that they were too busy lavishing so much nauseating praise on H that they surpassed their word count or they wanted to insinuate that louis was forgettable or not worth their time, but idk!

hate to give them clicks but here’s the link if you want to read it in full:

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/usshowbiz/article-13032513/Why-Harry-Styless-friends-urging-settle-married-babies-30th-birthday-today-lives-incognito-life-London-Canadian-model-Taylor-Russell.html?ito=native_share_article-top

First, it’s actually very on-brand for an article about Harry Styles’ birthday to consist mostly of insults about the other 1D guys. The fact that this is 2024 but media still feel the need to do this belies the hollowness of the Harry Styles hype.

After three years of build-up in 1D (2013-15) and eight years of industry propping him up, giving Harry Styles the access to the biggest songwriters and producers in the industry, the best venues money and power can buy, Azoff clients and adjacent saying his farts don’t smell, movie roles handed to him on a silver platter, with Christopher Nolan no less?, iconic Phoebe Waller-Bridges making a music video with him, Chloe Zhao saying he’s the second coming of Christ, Bono loving him more than his own child, even Billie Eilish and Miley Cyrus wanting to work with him, bought Grammys over Beyoncé etc., and this is the best they can do for his birthday? That Harry is “better than the rest of 1D”?

DM sounds a little like Harries on Twitter boasting about Harry Styles’ streams, or his wealth, or his Grammys and stadium tours, all of which amounts to the same boast: look what industry can create.

Look what they did with someone so white, bland, and pretty. Look at the money machine they built from a guy so vaguely defined as to have no identity at all. Harry Styles says nothing, supports nothing, sings about nothing, stands for nothing. Harry’s convictions are those of Jeff Azoff & friends. He truly lives up to his name: all style, absolutely no substance.

But Harry has… numbers. Harries (and media) cling onto numbers like peasants worshipping the god of hard currency. They love that money. The way they boast about Harry’s numbers is a little scary, to be honest. It suggests that there’s nothing else they like about him.

We can also tell, nine years later, that Harry isn’t the deep-thinking romantic poet he was painted to be, the one who cared about social issues and community, the one who thought deeply about human relationships and love, the one who cared for his fans enough to speak to us like family, to treat us with care, to do one-on-one fan service, to look genuinely happy in our presence, to look and act grateful even as those words pass his lips onstage AND off, to measure the people he works with with genuine, heartfelt friendship and not only because of their power and influence.

Because it’s very clear, nine years later, who that person in One Direction was. It’s the guy who never put 1D down, who, despite everything that has happened since, values the journey and can articulate it with all of the bittersweet authenticity to his experience. It’s the guy whose album was delayed for years because his first solo single competed a little too hard with Harry’s.

To your other point about press being nicer to Louis this year, other people have noticed the same thing, that Louis has been winning touring awards and other peripheral awards not central to the music industry. He isn’t going to walk the Brits or Grammys red carpet, and he won’t be nominated for VMAs or Aria awards.

But Louis isn’t even supposed to have a solo performing career in 2024. After 2017, the industry shut him out of radio and streaming. Faith In The Future was shut out of critical reviews. He started touring with a 1500 capacity venue. He isn’t supposed to be able to sell arenas, let alone stadiums. He wasn’t supposed to set a livestream world record— not when Niall did one the same year. Louis isn’t supposed to be friends with indie musicians, or have a reputation as “rock ‘n roll royalty”— having been shut out of the BBC. He isn’t supposed to tour the biggest venues in Australia. He isn’t supposed to sell arenas in Poland or Romania or Finland or Turkey. He isn’t supposed to create his own festival, give fans the first festival completely free, and showcase young, upcoming bands. Louis wasn’t supposed to be in the position to nurture any band, was he? He was supposed to be ancient history by now. They all were supposed to kneel before the legendary Harry Styles and disappear.

But Louis is selling upwards of 700k tickets for his second tour, and here we are, Harries following his every move, Larries relying on him to launder Harry’s image, and DM having to acknowledge that Louis is successfully, happily touring and making music on his own terms, with his own employees, singing his own lyrics to his enthralled audiences. He doesn’t take the bait to compare himself to his bandmates, nor relive old fights, nor stir up band controversy. He doesn’t talk badly about the other men’s relationships or families. He’s the only one who has watched Niall’s and Liam’s concerts and publicly supports all the guys’ careers. If the worst they can say is that Louis isn’t Harry Styles, thank God he isn’t. Thank god he stayed himself, went through the fires and came out better. One Direction mythology has eroded over the years, but at least Louis remained good, inside and out. Not perfect, but human, trying, and genuinely, actually good.

Who really knows why media can show some positivity to Louis now. I am cautious about any real change. I guess the rest of 2024 will be revealing. I’ve been waiting for so long that I don’t really expect anything different. We’ll see.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

I finally did it yall I made a list of my favorite Cartmanisms bc I do in fact very much enjoy writing his out of pocket ass

“Oh speaking of,” Cartman added, “let’s just sacrifice the Insulin Bitch and the brain damaged hippie to the zaliens so the rest of us can make a run for it.”

Eric was scowling. “Only I’M allowed to make comments about you two gayasses. I say we wipe the floor with those homophobes.”

“I doubt they’ll have a vest in your size, Thumbulimia.”

“Please, I have better things to do than watch the Jew have a Post Traumatic Spider Disorder episode.”

Cartman rolled his eyes, but got up to drop a five in the Fuckwad Jar. “I hate you guys, seriously. Marj, you weren’t even in the room for the Nancy joke.” The lace trim of his robe fluttered as he sat back down, which made Stan laugh again. “What’s so funny, hippie?” There weren’t really words, honestly, but he’d try. “I just… I never want us to change, you know?” “Gay.”

Eric sung a few lines of ‘Jesus Loves The Little Children’ in a creepy horror movie voice and then sprung out from his hiding spot and started blasting on an unsuspecting youth who got too close, chasing him down the field with rarely shown athleticism.

Cartman looked incredibly bored as he clicked the magazine and snapped it back into place. “Well fuck me for being prepared.”

Cartman scoffed. “He’s not doing anything but staring up at you like he’s Sleeping Goddamn Beauty and you just kissed him out of a coma.”

“Awww, looook, you guys! They’re having a gay little hurt/comfort moment again! What, you gonna kiss it better, Kahl?”

Cartman just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “What the hell ever, Jimothy. Go stutter about it to someone else.”

“Okay, fucking first of all,” Kyle shot a glare at Cartman, “no one’s getting sacrificed. Literally, that’s not goddamn happening. AND we’re keeping this discussion CIVIL. It’s five in the morning and nobody’s slept very much. There’s not a single guy here who’s actually thinking straight.” “That would be because half of you are gay as balls.”

“Once again, I’m moving that we leave the hippie behind.” “Cartman, remind me to kick your ass when we’re out of here.” “Good luck on that if you fucking faint like one of those stupid goats again.”

Cartman was out of bullets, but he’d taken out a good chunk of the extraterrestrial undead. “Holy shit, Kahl, you better not die on us. Cockroach, remember? You’re a damn cockroach.”

“Aight, so anyway, what’s JewBot up to?” “Still at work. He’ll be home later. We’re gonna go out to dinner with the Tuckers.” “I didn’t ask for your life’s story, buttplug,”

“Oh JESUS CHRIST!!” Oh, great. Cartman had emerged from his cave. “Did I just walk into a stairwell orgy?”

“Fuck you, Kahl. Your recycled dildo and his weirdo wingman pulled me out of a Klance slowburn.” “WHO the FUCK is reading Voltron fanfiction in 2023?!” “Some of us are dedicated.”

Eric paused his self imposed quest to rob every taco truck in GTA and set aside his controller. “Hellllll no. The vampires don’t get my blood without paying me for it.”

“Geez, pack it up, Fiddler On The Roof.”

“Fatass, if he dies in a car accident because YOU made him freak, I WILL kill you.” “Good luck doing that with one leg and a fever, fleshlight.” But his voice softened. “Just try to chill out until he gets home, Kahl. Then you can be a terrible patient for someone who actually likes you.”

“Yeah, hippie. I wasn’t going to deal with you if something happened to your burning bush.”

A certain abrasive fuckwad leaned casually against the wall. “Oh, the Bubonic Jew didn’t tell you yet? I said he fell on the stairs, didn’t I? He just hurt his knee again, what else is new.” Stan made a noise of surprise and Cartman pointed his beef jerky at him. “By the way, I really don’t get why you get so stoked about lugging him around. He’s difficult.”

Cartman scurried off to inspect a leaf. “Woah, you guys! I think I just, like, discovered empathy!” “You’re looking at a plant.” “Plants have feelings too, Khal! Look at your photosynthesizing dildo back there!”

“Like he needs an excuse to get on his high horse about shit.” “I’ll kick your fat ass,” Kyle warned. “Good luck, tinkerbell.”

Cartman had planted himself into the passenger seat, munching away at that bag of funyuns. He glanced back. “What’s the ‘sitch, Ken-Possible?”

“Because, you pussy,” Cartman said with a false saccharine smile, “you have the biggest TikTok following from your gayass little songs.

“Yep.” Cartman said through a mouthful of eggs. “Plus, Clyde has an affair going with the town vet, Butters is a total twink, and Stanny boy has a boner for the Jew.”

Oh dear god. Cartman was NOT about to babysit the argumentative dickhole while the housekeeper worked. As much fun as he was to fight with, Kyle was a fierce opponent, and Cartman wasn’t really in the mood. He’d had a weird night. The cats had been on edge.

Oh, of goddamn course. The OTHER buttplug. It wasn’t a secret. Well, technically it was, because no one talked about it, but anyone with eyeballs could see that Stan and Kyle had a gayass little private relationship going on behind Craig’s back. Good for them, or whatever, but if the Spider ever got proof…

Cartman just rolled his eyes. “Scott, you glucose gobbling ass bitch, I’ve literally butchered two people. I know the human body, okay?”

“The fuck.” Cartman’s eyes widened. “Every single one of you dildos had better be praying that there’s no internal bleeding.”

Cartman put his hands up. “Gahdamn, you guys. Just trying to lighten the mood in this hot air balloon to Hell.”

“Ay! Hippie! The Jew had to stay for basketball so I’m here with your buttfucking homework-“

Cartman definitely wanted to rip on him for wallowing in his own sadness, but the sooner he got this loser to be a person again, the better. “No shit, asshole. Your fucking fleshlight is even more intolerable without you to hold him back. You need to come back to school.”

“Also, I’m telling your little prince of Egypt that he can come over. It’s not like he’s gonna catch your Sad Bitch Disease.”

Cartman strolled around the corner, now wearing his frilly ‘widow whose husband died under mysterious circumstances’ robe.

[lemonyko0]

Test Dummy - jjk

college gives you the perfect fresh start, far, far away from your brother and any of his cock-blocking friends. or so, you thought.

» genre: fluff! best friends brother 👀 college au, little steamy and mentions of s3x.

» word count: 4.1k

Test Dummy - jjk

We’ve all heard about “forbidden love”. We’ve seen all the movies, read all the books, watched all of the predictable tv shows. I mean, what did you think was going to happen, they weren’t going to get together?

And yet, we continue to eat it up, every time, without fail.

“What is your beef with romance? Would you rather it be easy and straight to the point or do you think writers should end every romance in tragedy?” Mina scoffs and laughs at the foot of the bed as she proof-reads my essay. “I just don’t understand your point, y/n.”

I snatch the laptop away from her, “If you’re going to start making comments before you even finish reading it, I’m not going to let you read it at all!”

She laughs and rolls onto her back on my bed, “Fine, whatever, you probably don’t need anyone else to read it anyway, I’m sure it’s great.”

I nod, “You’re right, I don’t, you asked, remember?”

She grins, “Did I?”

I roll my eyes, “Shoo, leave my house.” Her boyfriend had texted her fifteen minutes ago saying he was on his way from her parents house, “why didn’t you invite your new boyfriend again?” I ask, referring to the cellphone in her hand as she slings her coat on and grabs her purse.

Her brows raise and she thinks about her words before speaking, something I most definitely never do, and she reminds me all the time. “Honestly? I knew your brother and his heathens would be back too, and the last thing I want him around is more testosterone.”

She laughs, having previously mentioned this one is the jealous type (which is apparently, something she’s into) and she was correct in assuming my house would look the same it did in high school, Seokjin and his friends all running around the house, being loud, eating all the food, and bothering any other life-forms in the house.

“Yeah you’re right, this place is still a sausage fest. However, I think today only four of seven losers are here. Not sure though, they’ve been quiet the last hour.”

She nods, “Must be eating.”

I shake my head as well, “Food! Oh god I’m totally gonna go crash their party, I’ll walk you out.”

I bid Mina goodbye and sigh in relief as I close the door. Not that I didn’t enjoy Mina’s presence, we’ve been friends for years and despite going to different schools after graduating, we’ve still kept in touch, but entertaining people for that long, is always taxing on my social battery.

Just as Mina and I make a habit out of reuniting during school breaks and holidays, as does Seokjin and his annoying group of friends.

I stroll around the downstairs area of my family home, parents gone somewhere I’m sure they mentioned but I’m sure I ignored, and no boys to be found. “Must be in his room or something.” I mumble to myself, opening the fridge and bending down to grab a soda.

“Actually we’re in the basement dusting off the pool table, hand me one?” I practically jump out of my skin at the sound of another voice in the room, let alone directly behind me. He grins widely, “Hi, pretty.”

I smack his shoulder and shove a drink in his hand before walking past him, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, and furthermore,” I lower my voice and turn to face him, now separated by the kitchen bar, “why the hell are you talking to me like that here? That is beyond off-limits!”

He’s still sporting a shit-eating grin, “You were actually being serious about not telling your family?” I widen my eyes and gesture around us, he scoffs, “Y/N, seriously?”

I sigh, “Jungkook, this is just,” I pause, “too weird to deal with right now.”

He circles the table coolly, still leaving a respectable distance between us, “I vividly remember you saying something different a few months ago, probably when we were in my bed, but oh! Maybe it was yours?” He laughs, as if what he was saying was actually funny, “Sorry, after so many times I just get confused.”

I scan the room again, my face dark red and my hair falling from behind my ears as I aggressively point my finger, “We already talked about this and you promised me Jungkook! Now drop it.”

He takes steps closer until his chest is brushing against my finger and I drop my hand in defiance, “I didn’t agree to be your sneaky-link, I want to be your boyfriend.”

“No.” I state simply, turning to leave the room.

Jungkook quickly grabs onto my arm, “Come on Y/N, just rip the bandaid off, and tell them you’re seeing someone! Better yet, he’s right god damn here to support you! Aren’t you exhausted from this constant tug and pull thing you’ve got going on?”

I pull away from him and very theatrically tell him, “NO.” He sighs dramatically and I scoff, “What on earth do I have to tell anyone? Not only are we not together, but you are also Seokjin’s best friend.”

He throws his head back in annoyance, “I don’t understand-”

“And I will be more than glad to talk you through it, after break.” I stop him right there, tired from repeating the same argument over, and over again.

Before leaving for university, the thought of ever being with one of my brothers delinquent friends sounded appalling. I had to listen to their male nonsense my entire life, being dragged around and made fun of and simultaneously, extremely cock-blocked. Not a single date-night, crush, date to dances, anything. If I wanted one, he’d be scrutinized and scared off. It was impossible, and incredibly annoying.

So imagine my delight, leaving for school knowing I had successfully avoided both my brother, and every single one of his associates.

That is until Jungkook transfers his second year, and didn’t tell anyone where-to until it was too late.

Which I figured, whatever. The likely chance we’ll ever cross paths is slim to none, no problem!

Except he latched onto me like an actual parasite. It had taken him long enough to find the overlap in our schedules, my study time coincided with his! Oh and his gym-time too! And he liked getting coffee around the same time as me as well! Oh and he doesn’t like the treadmills at the gym anymore, and would much rather run at the same time as me, on the same path, and at the same pace.

I questioned his motives from the start, and eventually gave up on pushing him away. I could have worse company, I suppose. And compared to the rest of his and Seokjin’s friend’s, I did know him the best, and disliked him the least.

We actually grew close in a short amount of time and I found myself enjoying his company, although I still struggle to admit it. I tried so hard to clear my life of my brother's shadow looming over me but Jungkook never mentioned it. He actually seemed to pick up on my avoidance, and what I was trying to do by going to a big school and one I knew no one else was attending. He was perfect in the sense that I never had to tell Jungkook what I was thinking, he just, knew. He also knew what to do, and just what I needed.

As one should have expected, you can’t just fling yourself into the dating world head-first and expect everything to work out how you imagined it would. I had no experience! No precursor, no context clues, no cues, and absolutely zero clue that the rules and expectations of college-dating was completely different to those you read about.

I was on the third failed date when Jungkook decided it was time to ask, even though I knew he was hesitant.

It was autumn, the leaves turning cool to warm-tones and trees shedding, I remembered the extra crunch during my morning run with Jungkook. He sat against my bed with a textbook in front of him and a notebook in his lap when he looks up at me on my bed, “How did your date go?”

I hum, looking at him questioningly, knowing damn-well I had never mentioned my dating life to Jungkook. “You know, you won’t shrivel up and die if you ask people for help.”

I begrudgingly chuckle at his comment, “I don’t need to ask for help. Men are just stupid and horny.”

He nods, “I don’t deny that, but, perhaps you’re fishing in the wrong pool.”

I sigh, “I’ve fished from different pools! I did the ‘helpful guy in my maths class’ and the ‘cute guy always in the library’ and even dating apps! And one would think if you just wanted to have sex, you would NOT put ‘looking for a relationship’ in your bio, but I suppose some people just aren’t that logically-inclined?”

He grins and leans his head back against my bed, “actual dating isn’t what half of the guys your age are looking for right now. Sorry to say it, but unless flings are what you’re looking for, first-year guys aren’t going to offer more.” He speaks easily, almost tentatively, as if he was breaking hard news to me. “At least, not this early in the year. But I get your enthusiasm, it’s not like you got out much in school.”

I raise my eyebrows to that, “That’s for damn sure.” We both chuckle, and I sigh annoyed, “It’s just upsetting, like everyone is at a completely different place in their lives than me, I mean, fuck I’ve never so much as made out with someone!” I laugh and he hesitantly laughs after me, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t register at the time, but I continued, because he was listening, and for once I felt comfortable enough to tell someone other than Mina, and I needed that. She wasn’t here anymore, and doing things on my own wasn’t working. “I just, feel so detached and angry.”

He nods, leaving a few moments of silence to ensure I was done before speaking, “I mean, if it bothers you that much and you think it’d help, I will certainly volunteer to be your test dummy.”

I smile before his words really sink in and I look down to him with brows furrowed, he’s grinning with a pained expression, “what do you mean by that Jungkook?”

His eyes widen and he raises his hands in surrender, “I-I strictly mean it in a if-it-would-help sense, just, trying to offer solutions! Sorry, that was weird and wrong.”

He slouches back down and buries himself in his work, and it’s not spoken of again.

Two weeks later, and my morning runs with Jungkook have become a given, and as the leaves turn redder and begin to brown and fall off, I find his presence more and more comforting. I’m not sure exactly when the lines blurred. I wish I could say I was on something. I wasn’t sober, I was lonely, I was just being stupid. But none of it was true. Well, that last bit is partly true, I was stupid, for not seeing what was going on until it was right in front of me.

“Why not you?” I speak aloud, almost as if my thoughts had slipped past the gates in my brain and right out of my mouth.

It catches Jungkook off-guard, my out of context bambling. He was just stretching against a nearby tree after our run, and asked me what coffee shop I was in the mood for. “Why not me, what?”

I stare at him, mouth agape, and I’m sure it takes me much longer than it should have to conjure up a response. I ran through my options, lie, surely. It’s not supposed to go like this.

Or, just tell him. Jungkook had been a more than good friend to me up until then, why not? “Why not you?” I repeat. He doesn’t speak, leaving me to fill in more of the blanks. I catch my breath finally, “You, Jungkook.” I say, he nods, slowly, almost like he was worried or scared. “Why not go on a date, with you?”

He stares at me. Emotionless. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t so much as move the stray hair falling into his eyes from underneath his hoodie. I laugh, “Nevermind, that was stupid of me.”

He stills, before shaking out of it then shaking his head profusely, “No no no no, not stupid.” I raise my brows and he looks me in the eyes, “I mean, are you being serious?”

I nod slowly, “Well, yeah, it makes perfect sense, and you even brought it up, a while ago.”

He hums, “Yeah, I’m sure I did, but, when?”

He asks for a reminder, “When you told me you volunteered to be my ‘test dummy’ for relationships. So why not, show me what it’s like.”

Something told me his reaction was disingenuous, “Oh, yeah, sure.”

He smiled anyway, picking up his bag and water, “Well, in that case, let our first date be a coffee date, on me.” He animatedly looped his arm around mine and walked away from our running trail and towards the nearby shop.

Jungkook was, as expected, a perfect gentleman. And I thought, that was what he was supposed to be. We were doing this whole thing so I could get some experience under my belt with less hassle and pressure, it was perfect.

There was always something, though. A little voice screaming at me that something is wrong and needed to be addressed. But neither of us did. Not when he walked me to my ‘doorstep’ (the front of my building) on our third date and told me, “this is when any good man would likely try to kiss you.” He looked at me, I looked at him and nodded, “the third date?” He nodded, “Yep, of course, only if you’re showing signs you’re interested, and even better if he explicitly asks.”

I nod and smile up at him, both of our hands shoved into our pockets, the wind making the nighttime much chillier. He bites at his bottom lip and shifts his weight from his toes, to his heels, and back and forth, until I say, “so, are you going to ask?”

This stops him, “ask… what?”

I laugh, thinking how stupid of a question, “To kiss me?”

His eyes widen, and then he leans back, shaking his head with a grin, “No no, this isn’t-”

“What, did I do something wrong?”

He quickly shakes his head, “No, nothing, you’re perfect.”

I ignore the way my cheeks flush despite the cold, “Okay then.” I lead on, he looks at his feet. He never tried to leave, he never told me goodnight, offered to kiss me on the cheek, he just did, nothing.

And I simply wasn’t having that.

I leaned up on my toes and pulled my warm hands from my pockets and placed them tentatively on his face, and I kissed him.

It was quick, I had kissed someone before, albeit years ago, and I was not confident at all in my skills. But I was confident in myself. I knew he wanted to kiss me but didn’t think it was right.

I bid him goodbye that night, and life went on just as it always did. From that line crossed, every line there on after became more and more blurred. When exactly “trial dating” became real dating, I’m unsure.

It gave me a perfect excuse as to why I was spending so much time with Jungkook, and why I was enjoying it, until I tried wine for the first time. We both had a decent amount, and I had sex for the first time.

That, still, is one of my largest regrets. I mostly wish we could go back, and do it differently. Or had at least weighed the outcomes of putting me, the guy I liked, and a bottle of wine and zero reference of a tolerance in a romantically-set up room.

From then on, Jungkook and I have argued over what we are, what to do, what we were doing, at all. I had made a bubble. A perfectly constructed, safe space. No one holding me back, judging me, or shadows looming. I was comfortable in my bubble.

That was until break came, and my bubble literally, popped.

I told Jungkook, (I’ll admit, rather coldly) that from the moment we were back in our hometown, none of this had ever happened. “If they ask, we kept up with each other on campus as friends, but that was it.”

He did not take well to this, but what was I supposed to do? Re-introduce one of my brother's closest friends as “my friend I go on dates with and kiss and sleep with every so often but he’s not really my boyfriend I don’t know we haven’t figured it out yet.” ???? Absolutely not. It is too complicated, too fast, too much for my brain to deal with all at once. It is bad enough returning home, and even worse knowing my problems were following me and harassing me in my own kitchen.

Jungkook sighs, having relented, “I don’t know what else to do, y/n.”

I pause for a moment, then shrug, “I’ve told you, i-it’s a hard situation. And any normal guy in your position would most definitely not be invited to my home during holiday, let alone bonding with my entire family and even join us for freaking christmas dinner if he wanted.”

His eyes look past me before nodding solemnly, “I get that, really, I-I’ve kept my distance! I’ve done what you asked, but you’re not even meeting me halfway.”

I put my hands out in front of him, “There is no half-way Jungkook.” I look to the basement door when I hear a voice and the steps creaking, “As of right now, there is nothing to talk about.”

He opens his mouth to complain and I loudly hush him, “Ah! Stop talking.”

He tries speaking again, no doubt further complaints about how unfair I’m being, and thankfully he notices Seokjin seconds before he slings his arm around him with a grin, “Wondered what was taking you so long to grab my coke.”

He laughs it off and Seokjin crosses the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge, and I turn to leave before he calls out to me, “Yeah?”

“There’s still pizza down there, and we found the missing 4 striped ball.” He points at the basement door with the drink in his hand and chuckles, “Which if I remember correctly, you lost when you practically threw it at me.”

I roll my eyes, “I did not throw it at you, you hid it from me so I couldn’t win, I was beating you so bad you had to cheat.”

He chortles, “Yeah, that may be, but I’m nowhere near the best player anymore, you could easily win even if I cheated.”

I nod, “Yeah I’m sure-”

“Actually, Jungkook beat me twice and Taehyung forfeited, that's why we sent him up here, so we could have our own losers match.” He makes himself laugh even harder, walking back over to Jungkook, “We’re gonna go play mario kart in my old bedroom, you can join us or see if y/n is still the best at pool.” He speaks to Jungkook, but looks at me.

I shake my head, “It’s not that deep-”

“Of course! We have to.” Jungkook says quickly. I narrow my eyes towards him and he grins cockily, “unless you know you’ll already lose.”

I roll my eyes, “Comedic, you’ve always been a sore loser, I refuse for the sake of your ego.”

He scoffs, “Nope. Liar. You know you’re no good anymore and you’ll lose.”

I shake my head, “You’ll say anything to get me to play.”

He leans against the table, “Just one round. And I’ll even offer best of three, when you lose.” He grins cockily and I mock him.

“Whatever. ONE round, that’s it.”

Seokjin claps, “Perfect! Winner can run their victory lap around the house and boasting rights until next year, and loser pays our dinner later.” He pats our backs excitedly before jogging up to his room, Taehyung not far behind him.

Jungkook and I enter the basement, setting up the game and talking shit, as one does. “Who’s breaking?”

He smiles, holding his chosen pool cue, “Ladies first.”

I nod, “Such a gentleman.”

He laughs, “Yeah, that’s what got me into your pants.”

I mess up my shot and berate him. “I have half the mind to come over there and use this forcefully.” I lift up my pool cue and he pretends to be scared.

“Oh no! Please don’t!” I walk over to him, slap his chest and I only get one good (albeit, wimpy, compared to his strength) hit in before he grabs both of my hands and backs me into the pool table. He leans into me, our bodies touching leaving absolutely no room, and he kisses me.

I’m able to forget my surroundings and lose all rationality when he kisses me. He licks at my lips and I let his tongue slide past, soon enough his hands drop the cue, mine long forgotten as his hands slide down my body and he lifts me onto the table.

My hands are split, one tangling his hair and the other feeling his chest. He continues to kiss me fervently, hungrily, like he was touch-starved and in dire need of attention. He pulls me close and rubs against me, showing me how bad he wants me and it takes all the strength I have left to pull away, calling out to him. He ignores me the first time, kissing me in response to his name. I pull away again, “Jungkook.” he hums, busying himself with kissing and biting my neck, “Jungkook, w-we can’t.”

My pleas fall on deaf ears. “Jungkook, please,” my hands tug on his arms that are wrapped around me, “not here.”

He buries his face in my neck and leans into me with an annoyed groan. I let him rest like that for a while, waiting until he lifted his head and looked at me. “I don’t actually want to play pool.”

I chuckle, “Me neither.”

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Okay so let's use this table for a much better purpose.” He leans back into kiss me and I turn away, laughing at his desperate attempt.

“Jungkook, it’s bad enough, what we’re doing, let alone to do it in my house, where Seokjin is literally in, right now.”

He whines, “I don’t care! I will go up there right now and tell him-”

“Tell him what?!” Jungkook stops in his tracks. “Tell him what, Jungkook?” He doesn’t respond. “Exactly. We don’t have a label. I’m not ready to figure this out yet, there’s nothing to tell them now.”

His gaze softens and he steps towards me, his hands resting on my thighs as he draws circles on them, “But we’ll tell them eventually? It won’t be like this, much longer?”

I sigh, scratching his head and looking him in the eyes, “if we become official, if we really work out, then yes, of course. We’ll tell them.”

He kisses me again, barely parting our lips, “Okay, I’ll stop.”

I kiss him back and laugh, “Really? That’s all it took?” He furrows his brows. “Jungkook, I’ve been saying that since the beginning. Albeit, quite meaner.”

He nods, “You were being a megabitch, but I really like you so I didn’t mind.” He presses our noses together and smiles. I push his chest offendedly and he doesn’t move an inch, “You were stressed, worried, and confused, I don’t blame you. I should've been more sympathetic.” I kiss him again and thank him, followed by my own apology for mistreating him. “But there is still something different this time.”

I hum, “Yeah? What.”

He grins, “You acknowledged us being together.”

I roll my eyes, knowing I couldn’t hide the way my cheeks heat while trapped in his arms, “Whatever, stop talking.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

heyyy thanks for reading! if u liked it check out my masterlist for more :) also!! i am (tentatively) accepting requests! send them in via dm or askbox! hope u have a gorgeous day! - ara <3

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[locusfandomtime]

Fake logo designs of various districts/companies in Hermitcraft S8! Something about Hermitcraft brings out the graphic designer in me (*cough* it’s because I love worldbuilding and making tiny details in a world) anyway!

Design notes under cut! (Alongside some headcanons - it is quite long)

Horse Head Farms: this is the logo that started this idea basically. I got such a cool image of an eclipse with a repeated b+w horse head pattern and I really wanted to make it happen. M.C. Esher has done designs like these but as tiles, which I used as inspiration. I think I could have made it look a bit clearer but for my first time drawing something like this I’m pretty happy. The text is from one of the default Procreate fonts and kinda makes HHF look like a law firm (which is the vibe I was going for, soul-stealers and lawyers are often sorta linked in fiction, and supposedly xB and Hypno are their own legal team). xB and Hypno are the only employees other than the people they blackmail into doing stuff for them.

Big Eyes: I wanted a red eyeball as a reference to Tango’s amazing prank on Boatem and I imagine it’s a goofy little mascot for the company. Some big goofy text felt fitting alongside this. I wanted to make a Pass n Gas specific logo too but I wanted to focus on the main “districts” rather than specific shops. I feel like this is kind of obvious but in-universe Big Eyes are VERY unsuccessful and actively losing money.

Hohenzollern Castle: not really a company but Joe and Cleo are cool so I wanted to include them and I had a tiny bit of blank space left on the page so here we are. I actually really love how the sign looks, the wood texture came out nice. They don’t have a logo as much as they do a sign outside their area, created by Joe, with the text written by Joe’s dyes. The “Hohenzollern” is kinda squished because he began to run out of room but was too stubborn to split the word in half. Cleo argues that it isn’t a logo and is just a sign with the castle’s name on it. Joe argues back with a deconstruction of “what is a logo, really?” and something about companies and capitalism and Cleo doesn’t care enough to respond.

Octagon: I am a fool who initially thought it was spelt “Octogon” and had to fix it well after I finished. Oh well. I wanted this to have a very evil look about it. You can instantly tell they’re the evil tech company running experiments on the quantum realm or whatever in a Hollywood movie. Between the unsafe work conditions and the tax fraud, it is a miracle they haven’t been shut down (reason: the government is scared of Doc)

The Evil Empire: the “the” wouldn’t fit so I had to make some sacrifices. Evil Xisuma is dramatic and edgy so he wanted the logo to be in fancy black calligraphic medieval looking text. It fits the evil castle aesthetic the whole area has pretty well too. The Evil Empire is kinda like a Hot Topic store and a Renaissance Fair combined, but it is also involved with Crypto. Despite being so weird it has a perfect niche of marketing to edgy teenagers so it is quite successful. The employees hate it there because their work mandated uniform is to “dress like an evil minion”. Jevin is a slime monster, Wels cosplays a knight and Beef turned into an alien so they thankfully didn’t have to change.

Boatem (BTM): heavily inspired by Grian’s simplified logo he made in Minecraft, where he shortened it to BTM. Despite already having a reference to work off, this was the hardest design. I knew I wanted it to be simple, all-white and leaning back dramatically but I spent ages fiddling with it. Boatem is the most successful company, being perfect for the general public and their shopping district a tourist destination in of itself. It nearly went into bankruptcy when Mumbo was CEO but has been very successful since his Robot took over.

Zedaph Laboratories: my favourite design. Hand writing the text was a nightmare but it came together nicely other than that. Sheep symbol because sheep are his brand. I used the same colour palette as his laboratory. “Laboratory” is misspelled for two reasons: 1) I realised my mistake too late to change it, 2) I think it is completely in character for Zedaph to not know how to spell laboratory and only realise after Tango points it out and be forever haunted by his mistake. Don’t let the sleek corporate design fool you, Zedaph is still wild and is the only person in the “Zedaph Labratories”.

[beefrobeefcal]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/f80dfd4d4022311baf5ba6098b37fe83/181245afbf287710-c0/s1280x1920/76405f99a7880202727dd0a350a203f25c747899.jpg

xoxo

To Nonnie, Love Beefro

Nonnie, thank you. I needed this today.

Imma take a moment and be real with you all right now. Your beef is in a funk, and not the shake your groove thing kind.

tw: mental health talk

If this isn’t your bag and you’re just here for chaos beef fat peepaw meltdowns, mad respect, baby, and I’ll see you in the next post or two! 💜🥩💜

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

First and foremost, I am not looking for sympathy, I’m just keeping y’all in the loop. This is something I have lived with for years and it’s only in my late 30’s that I have been able to put words to it (now NO ONE CAN STOP ME!), and you also might be thinking but beef, didn’t you just go thru this?

Like a beaver on a unicycle, these are the days of our lives and yeah - this cycle of good and bad, shit and great, highs and lows? happy and sad is my life. 🎢🥩🤯

There are factors in my non-internet life that I don’t have control over right now and they’re causing pretty severe anxiety, and it’s gotten so outside the I-can-handle-this realm that the terrible, ominous, dread-inducing brain goblin - depression - has made a cantankerous nest in my noggin. I call him Norbert.

I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m warm. I’m comforted. But I’m sad. Norbert has me seeing slights and purposeful ignorance in harmless and pleasant interactions. Norbert also tells me there’s slightly veiled hatred in a completely-obvious-it’s-not-about-me statement.

Depression is such a selfish brain bastard. It tells you every bad thing is and must be about you, and it tells you these lies over and over until you break down and believe them. I hate depression. But I don’t hate me. I love me enough to know I need kindness - not just from my inner circle and irl besties - but also from myself. I deserve to be treated gently, especially when I’m feeling fragile and breakable and fractured.

This isn’t me saying I’m taking a break - far from it! But I may not be as quick to respond or posting as frequently. I say that, and who knows… peepaw could show up to a movie festival in an outfit that gives home economics project inspired by chicken wire and I could be brought back to life and feel better. That’s the joy of harboring a Norbert - I could be fine one minute and debilitated the next.

Nonnie, I’m sorry to usurp your THOT with sad beef rambles, but i had to convey that I really did need this. I needed a small, wordless reminder that someone remembers me (again, depression lies!). Not only did you remember me, you thought of me when you saw Tim looking like he had one too many nights of take out and took the time to send this so me. 💜🥩💜 thank you.

Despite what Norbert tells me, I matter.

[rpmemesbyarat]

I think there tends to be a perception that any work of fiction more than a few decades old is going to be riddled with cliches as well as full of horrifically outdated societal ideals. And I’m not going to say that’s completely incorrect, but it’s also not the case for many works either, including some of the most famous and formative ones.

For instance, let’s take fantasy.

The film “Willow” came out in 1988. It looks like it’s just going to be a straight Chosen One story. The evil queen is killing all the baby girls in the land looking for the one with the super special birthmark who is destined to defeat her, but the fated baby is smuggled away from her clutches just in time, and is found floating down a riverbank. I thought I was going to watch her grow up, discover her destiny and probably some special powers or swordfighting abilities she beats two-dimensional sexist boys with, and journey to heroically slay the queen in an epic showdown. But nope. She’s not named Willow, and she’s not the protagonist, and none of that happens.

The lead, Willow, is the father of the children who find her. They’re little people, and all played by actual little people. So right off the bat, we’ve got a disabled protagonist played by a disabled actor, and he encounters a lot of prejudice for it outside his village. He’s also unusual in that he’s a married father with kids, not some young attached swashbuckler/prince/pirate/etc. He very much WANTS to be a great sorcerer, but shows no actual magic talent. However, he is good at sleight of hand, such as his “diseappearing pig” trick. . . which ends up being his trump card at the climax with which he tricks the evil queen. But that’s just a distraction; the person who has a super badass magical fight with the evil queen isn’t him OR the baby, it’s an elderly sorceress he meets along the way who has beef with her. So the two absolute powerhouses of the movie who go head to head are two WOMEN, and not sexualized ones either. Granted, it’s hard to get more cliche than “evil sorceress queen” but her throwing down with the old crone was VERY unexpected for me! And the other lead female character is the queen’s badass daughter, a powerful fighter who begins on her side but sides with the heroes by the end.

But it’s not the old lady who defeats the queen either; she defeats herself when she tries to kill the baby, setting up a ritual to do so. When Willow tricks her into thinking he made the baby disappear and she moves towards him, she accidentally completes said ritual, causing it to destroy her as the target instead. At not one point in all of this did that baby ever show ANY magical powers or inclination of a special destiny; none of this would have happened if the queen hadn’t believed in this prophecy, for which there really was no proof, and acted accordingly. . . which is a piece of advice I’ve seen many a writer give for how to do the “Chosen One” trope well. And again, this movie was in 1988, predating all these writing blogs and advice channels. And what’s more, Willow doesn’t get real magic in the nick of time, there’s no Deus Ex Machina, he uses his own cleverness and the stage tricks he WORKED for. I really loved that. Again, it’s like something a modern writing blog would say they would totally love to see happen sometime!

The Last Unicorn film came out in 1982, but the novel was written in 1968. And yet, it averts a great many cliches about fantasy and gender in fantasy. The lead is female, and her motive has nothing to do with men. She has agency and takes action, and is very strong while not needing to make a big deal out of being “not like other girls” to do it (though she is definitely NOT like other girls, as she’s a unicorn in human form!) for this strength. We see her fend off a harpy, fight back against the Red Bull, and it’s mentioned she’s killed dragons before as well. Plus, she comes back in the sequel “Two Hearts” to finish off a griffin. Yet at no point is she an obnoxious edgy girlboss who shits on feminity; she’s in fact very feminine if she’s anything. And she does fall in love with a man, and this does have a big impact on her, but he’s not what her quest is about, and she in fact has to choose to give up being with him to complete that quest, and leaves him entirely at the end.

She also passes the Bechdel test; she talks with the witchy Mommy Fortuna who kidnaps her, trying to persuade her to free another female monster, the aforementioned harpy. And while she talk to her woman friend Molly about her love interest, their most iconic conversation is their first, and very feminist one, in which Molly angrily sobs demanding to know why the unicorn only came to her now, when she is no longer the innocent young maiden that unicorns are SUPPOSED to come to, but instead a haggard middle-aged woman who has been living with the leader of a bunch of bandits in the woods. Definitely not a demure virgin like the mythos say unicorns love. And yet, implicitly, the unicorn does not care.

And, of course, the unicorn saves herself at the end, and all the other unicorns in the world. It never presents itself as a feminist story, and I don’t think it was intended as such, but it sure qualifies in a number of categories.

For the final example, there’s The Lord of the Rings, written in the mid-50s. I actually haven’t read this series. But what I can comment on is something that was pointed out by someone on Tumblr (alas, I cannot remember the URL) that what so many of Tolkien’s imitators get wrong is they think that Aragorn is the protagonist, and make their Aragorn rip-off be so, but that actually the protagonist was Frodo, the literal little guy, the humblest of creatures, with no magic or fighting skills, and that this was the point. And I think that’s really interesting, that the father of modern fantasy and all its cliches, actually averted this cliche; it was only his many copycats that made it one.

These works were not, of course, perfect in other ways. There’s nary a scrap of POC or LGBT rep to be found in them that I know of. But they’re also far from cliche-storms in which every character is a cardboard cutout stock type and which every plot point is easily predicted either.

So, what is my point to this post?

It’s that older works are worth reading, or watching. Especially the genre-defining ones. These are some of the most famous, most far-reaching works of the fantasy genre in modern times, and that’s because they were GOOD. It’s not even about the box-checking aspect either; The Last Unicorn is heart-breakingly beautiful writing with a story and lines that make me more emotional than any other work ever has, book and film. Willow is a jolly good watch. The Lord of the Rings…ok, I’ll level with you, I just couldn’t get into it, that’s why I didn’t read it, but its significance to the fantasy genre is undeniable, and just because it wasn’t for me doesn’t mean it isn’t worth YOU giving it a shot. But so many people are just so sure that anything from before 2000 must be unoriginal, problematic garbage, and that’s reductive as well.

Besides the fact you’re missing out on things you might enjoy, reading within your genre is especially essential if you plan to WRITE in it, in my opinion. Whether this is fantasy, romance, sci-fi, horror, or something else, it is WORTH reading the masters. It is also worth familiarizing yourself with what’s ACTUALLY cliche, and what’s a DEAD UNICORN TROPE—I’ve read waaaay too many people who wrote what they clearly THOUGHT were very clever satires, but the things they were making fun of were never actually that prevalent in the genre to begin with, people just THOUGHT they were (ex: How many stories out there are there REALLY of princesses being rescued by dragons? Actually very few. But everyone lampshades it and references it and so on!) So it’s also worth reading what’s been done before if your plan is to parody, or satire, or deconstruct, or just do something new—that way, what you write will actually BE something new, instead of the eleven millionth author who thinks their protagonist is SO UNIQUE because they are a GIRL who FIGHTS omg!!

A lot of writers, both professional and aspiring, fear consuming work within their own genre, worried that they will be subconsciously influenced by it. They want their work to be wholly original, from their own imagination entirely. While I respect their choice, I also disagree that being inspired from other works is a bad thing. Inspiration doesn’t mean a direct copy. Indeed, I think people should in general stop stressing whether their work is a perfect unique snowflake untouched by any outside influence. All of us are influenced by something or other. And that’s fine. Every great work that you love was influenced by something else, consciously or subconsciously. Can you imagine if Neil Gaiman had decided NOT to write American Gods, and his own depictions of Odin and Loki, because he was a fan of Thor comics as a child (it’s what got him into actual Norse mythology!) and was worried that Jack Kirby’s version of the gods would influence his own? Ridiculous! Heck, I think it’s good to be inspired! To get ideas from other things! You just have to make them your own! And if there’s one thing that humans are goshdarn good at, it’s putting our own new spin on something we heard! That’s been how storytelling has worked since it begun!

And heck, why stop at reading the greats? Read the obscures and the flops! Read the worst shit in the genre! See what NOT to do, and think how you could do it better, and get the grain of a story from that! Get ideas from works in the genre that are forgotten or under-known! Use ideas from these that so many others have slept on, and expand them! For instance, look at the vampires of Paul Feval rather than Stoker or Le Fanu, for instance—if THEY had been the major media influences for Hollywood’s vampires, what would our modern depictions of these creatures be like? Use that as a jumping point for YOUR take on them!

Anyway, that’s all. I’m going to go watch The Dark Crystal now.