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philipgirvan · 1 year ago

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My review of Afterlife With Archie no longer appears on the Comic Hunter blog so am posting it here:

While drafting this blogpost I wondered if others had this love/hate relationship with Archie Comics so I polled a number of people via Facebook to get their thoughts. Here’s a sample:

I read them as a kid, and I'm embarrassed about that now. (Sexist, demeaning, traditional gender roles, lack of diversity all the way around.) I guess it was mostly because they were readily available that I read them. And maybe it's crap like that, and growing up in the Catholic Church, that helped me to become/realize I was a feminist, which I am grateful for. Better to be awake than in the dark.

I read them and liked them but I always thought they promoted 'the American dream', white Pickett fence type of thing... Also had horrible values for women... Archie would getting loving from the hot evil woman and when she didn't want him he ran back to the girl next door who was waiting for him always... They always made fun of the dumb, ugly and out of town people... Riverdale was a place you had to earn your stripes greaser style and be home in time for supper... Fun to read though haha

I loved Betty & Veronica storylines best, like all the girls. I was reading them probably between the ages of 8-12?? I think they informed my understanding of male vs female roles....hmmmm, that explains a lot!

I never understood a freaking bloody moment of that crap and HATED it....still do. I also hate anyone who read it. Hate.

Loved Archie comics as a kid, and have bought the odd digest as an adult for mindless reading on long flights. I identified with Betty and thought of my older sister as Veronica. I was mostly interested in all of the female characters (B & V, Josie + Pussycats, Sabrina, etc)- their hairstyles, fashion choices, taste in boys, etc. For some even stranger reason, I loved the beach comics the best in a kind of a 'Beach Blanket Bingo' way.

The outright sexist content is too much. recent readings of current issues prove they reinforce negative gender stereotypes, female competition, bad self image values lower class putdowns, and many more negative aspects. The sunny, vintage illustrations hide a truth based out of bad values & sexual manipulation. We have put a stop on them in our house.

I read them and remember thinking at one point how odd it was that I continued to do so despite never really laughing.

Ok so Archie Comics. My best friend … used to read them. She and her sister had dozens and they would be scattered everywhere; piles of them under the bed and being a voracious little reader, of course I checked them out. Yes, I was a kid who would go over to play at someone's house and start reading their books. Ok so I HATED those comics. And I was shocked. How could I hate something my best friend liked? I hated everything about the comics : the story line, the graphics, and the characters. I had a sense that I was supposed to relate to either Betty or Veronica and I had a sense it was supposed to be the dark haired one that I would relate to, but I still hated her. I felt like the stories were about a world that didn't fit with mine at all, and I could sense what the comic wanted me to think and feel but that it Just Wasn't Right. And on some level, it frightened me that there was this Thing in my world that was clearly cool with lots of others, that I wished didn't exist. At that age I was still frightened by being 'a little different' but the evidence was mounting. Thank you for this little morning homework assignment. I still hate Archie.

I never ever touched it, I recall picking one up when I was a kid and thinking how out dated it seemed. Looking back now, the themes are relevant, but it obviously screams of an era.

My friends’ responses encouraged me that I wasn’t being unduly critical of Archie Comics. To me, the most annoying thing about Archie comics is that nothing bad ever happens. Archie’s car might get a flat tire. Jughead’s belly aches from eating 100 hamburgers. Reggie takes a beating. No big whoop. It rung false when I was a little kid and it sure as hell rung false when I actually entered adolescence and learned what kind of horrible bastards fill this mortal void.

Riverdale is a weird version of the suburban white bread American Dream. While we saw the dark side of this in movies like Blue Velvet and Pleasantville, bad things don’t happen in Archie Comics.

Bad things do happen In Afterlife with Archie #1. The worst things you can imagine. Awful horrible stuff, drawn grotesquely, gruesomely, and gloriously. Archie’s still a player, but he’s dropped the bow-tie and the sweater. Reggie’s still a weasel, but, for the first time, has remorse for his craven actions. The story pivots on Jughead, his friendship with Archie, and mainly his relationship to his faithful mutt, Hot Dog. I’m not going further discuss the plot except to say that Sabrina the Teenage Witch features prominently and her aunts Hilda and Zelda are finally portrayed as proper witches and not just a couple of odd ladies in funny hats. Afterlife with Archie #1 is hands down the best Archie comic I’ve ever read. It’s hands down the best comic I’ve read all year. If you haven’t read it, read it. And place your order for #2. These suckers are selling out fast.

#archie comics #afterlife with archie #comics #comic books #comic blogging #comic review

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glamourzombie · 3 years ago

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July was a very Death-esque (as in, tarot Death) month for me. I lost one of my pets, I got assigned to a new highschool (a yearly occurence for most of us working in the public school system), some of my hubs’ projects didn’t come to fruition, others did. There wasn’t as much me-time as I anticipated, tbh! But today, I’m going to showcase one of the tools that did make an appearance during the highs and the lows of the month: the Dirt Gems Oracle, a botanical deck by Anne Louise Burdett & Chelsea Granger. These friends were inspired by their love for the earth and all the medicine and healing that it holds, and it is a stunning set of cards and guidebook.

I know the deck already looks awesome by the pictures, and the first time I read about it, it really caught my attention. But there’s no way of expressing how much power and beauty it has when you see it in person and work with it. It has such a strong energy, vibrant but steady. It has its own structure, created by combining the elements, weather systems, alchemy, and energetic signatures of the plant allies. The 65 cards are in fact divided into suits: ablaze (15 cards), afloat (14), adrift (17) and amidst (19). The division is clever and based on the different charactersitics of each of the plants involved, and each suit is associated with an element and a colour palette (most clearly seen in adrift with its b&w).

And it is incredibly fun. It doesn’t mean it can’t get deep (it does!), but honestly working with it is just so enjoyable even if it can look dark and kinda moody. The art style is very unique, with a dreamy feel, and the use of colours (including the restricted palettes) feels magical. It does show the care, experiences and knowledge that went into it. The illustrations make use of the black background to give them space and a lightness that works amazingly well when using these cards with other decks. Most of the elements presented are plants and animals, but there are also other natural elements, charachters, and human-made objects. The cards have a buttery matte finish (they are able to slide, unlike with the rose-petal finish), they are gilded (in either gold or copper) and they come inside a fully illustrated two-piece sturdy box.

The companion guide is juicy, at 165 pages. It has a small intro which includes plant magick, the suits exploration with intro to and associations for each, a how to, example spreads, and a few words on tradition, arriving at page 25 to the cards’ information: a b&w image, the plant name (including its scientific name), an assigned title (eg. The Transmutter for Gumweed), and the message and meaning of each card itself. The illustrations can offer enough of an intuitive hit to work with them alone based on the symbology that goes with the plants and the way in which they are presented and coloured (especially if you’re versed in plant lore), but in my case I find this to be a deck whose guide I find necessary and enriching.

The Dirt Gems Oracle is a deck that links the very tangible reality of plants to their ethereal aspects, as well as guiding us along this bridge to (re)connect with the earth, and hence, with ourselves. Though the four elements are present, I feel it’s mostly a grounding and reassuring deck with lots to teach. It is fun, eye-catching and well-designed, and it vibrates to an energy that should be very basic and present for and in us, but that the modern world can tamper with frequently. Anne Louise Burdett & Chelsea Granger have done an amazing job with this deck, so if you want to know and see more, head over the Dirt Gems site!

#tarot #oracle #dirt gems #dirt gems oracle #cards #art #botany #botanical #insight #meditation #products

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bau-baby · 4 years ago

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Hi, could you do a Spencer Reid x Reader where him and the reader are friends but he has a big crush on her? And that to the team the reader seems out of his league so they’re a little shocked they together? Thank you!

just right for me.

word count: 895

warnings: none, just fluff!!

A/N: I loved writing this! Thank you, anon!

The team always had some jab or joke about how you and Spencer never really made sense as friends, mostly because the way you acted on the job was so different.

Spencer always had something to add when it came to anything that was important to the case or being discussed.

You kept things to yourself, not wanting to say the wrong thing or make yourself sound more stupid than you already felt sometimes.

Sure, you were great at your job and all, but you had a tendency to talk yourself into holes you couldn't come out of. You were like that all through grade school, and it was not an asset in middle or high school.

So you chose to save yourself the embarrassment in college and through the academy, all the way until you were assigned to the BAU just a measly three years ago.

But Spencer had taken a liking to you, and you often spent your free time at his apartment. He knew you well, getting you to bring the walls down and embrace who you were without them. He loved your passionate rants and was more than willing to go into deep conversations about whatever it was with you.

He didn’t know exactly what had drawn him to you, but he just loved the way you carried yourself, and he loved how different you were.

And he’d never let on, but he had a lot of feelings for you. He always felt this way, but he finally acknowledged it recently when you got the promotion for SA to SSA.

He was the first person you told and the light in your eyes, the realization that your work paid off, made him so proud of you.

He let you hug him, and the warmth that spread through his body at the realization hit him like a brick.

He was so in love with you, and he didn’t think you saw it.

What he didn’t know is that you were so in love with him, and you too afraid to tell anyone.

But that would all come tumbling down on a cold night of chess and documentaries. He made a small sarcastic jab about your ability to play chess, both of you laughing lightly.

That’s when the air of the conversation changed, and Spencer was finally gaining the confidence to just say it. He cleared his throat, mentally preparing.

“Uhm, Y-Y/N? Can I tell you something?” He moves a pawn of his, his eyes flashing to the small TV.

“Of course you can, Spence. What’s up?” You ask, moving your knight.

“Uh, well-” He lets out a small huff of breath, and you almost mistake it for a laugh, “I’ve- I’ve uh really enjoyed hanging out with you, and you’re an awesome friend-”

“Just spit it out, Spencer,” You say. You’ve never seen the genius like this.

“I’dreallyliketotakeyouonadateifyou’dletme” He lets it all out in one breath, but you catch every word. You try to let an easy smile cross your face, but your stomach absolutely erupted in butterflies. You school your expression, and your voice comes out surprisingly even.

“I’d love to, Spencer,” You both smile over the chessboard, your newly revealed feelings not changing the fact that Spencer could check you in three.

-----

“That was really fun, Y/N. I can’t believe you’ve read The Illustrated Man!” Spencer says, a smile lighting up his face after walking you up to your apartment.

“Yeah, I really enjoyed it, has to be one of my favorites,” You say, the smallest of smiles on your faces.

You both let the conversation die in your throats, just looking at each other. You both tentatively lean in, finally giving in to the overwhelming feeling you’ve had since he picked you up for your date.

His lips softly graze yours, a silent asking of permission. You grant it to him, finally pressing your lips to his.

It was a soft warmth tumbling down from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A feeling of safeness, of overall love and admiration.

It was the start of something beautiful.

-----

Both you and Spencer were about as subtle as dropping a bag of bricks, and the team of profilers didn’t need much work to figure out what happened.

If they were honest with you two, they were surprised that you both had found something in common.

It was after a long, tough case, one where no one could even really sleep. Except for you and the boy genius. Your head on his shoulder, his cheek mushed into your hair.

“Y’know, I’d never think that of all people, Y/L/N would get with Reid,” Morgan said, disbelief in his tone.

“You also don’t really know much about Y/L/N, even though they’re 3 years on the job,” Prentiss says, mirth in her tone.

“Hey Morgan, you’re not great at the whole whispering thing,” You say, never actually sleeping, just enjoying Spencer’s company.

The table across from you erupts into laughs and a cacophony of jabs at Morgan.

You know Spencer wasn’t asleep either when he squeezes your hand.

You didn’t have to make sense to the rest of the world. As long as you were together and it made sense to the two of you, You were happy with the world, as was Spencer.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #morgan is so damn loud sometimes #soft spencer

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todaydreambelieversfic · 4 years ago

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Author Spotlight: Gleefuldarrencrissfan Day 1

Author: @gleefuldarrencrissfan

How did you get into Glee and Glee fandom?

I'm a huge music fan, and I started watching the show after it ended because I loved the music that I heard in the pilot. I wasn't really paying attention to the plotlines, and honestly, I didn't really like many of the characters and storylines in season 1. However, I made it to season 2 and fell in love with Blaine, Sam, and a much less manipulative Kurt. After that, I was hooked.

In general, what drew you into writing (and/or creating)?

I've always loved writing, but I mostly wrote poetry and even lyrics and Dr. Seuss like rhymes. I started writing when I was a teen, and honestly, I've never stopped. You'll find poems, lyrics, and children's verse interspersed throughout my stories because I still love writing various forms of writing. I'm actually writing several children's stories right now as well.

What was it about Glee that made you decide to write fanfic for it?

Honestly, my frustration with the lack of Klaine and Blaine storylines drove me to write my first story, Courage, which was Blaine's season 1 story. I also wanted desperately to get feedback on writing. So I started writing Courage and posted. After that, I loved writing and interacting with other fans so much that I just kept going.

Have you been a part of other fandoms before? Have you written fanfiction pre-glee?

Not really. I had other shows that I loved but I wasn't really a hardcore fan of other shows except Cold Case, where I would analyze and discuss particular episodes on message boards. I never wrote fanfiction until I started writing for glee.

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Fake dating sounds fun, as does enemies to lovers. I have ideas for both. I also love best friends to lovers.

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Quite a few. I would not write BDSM, MPreg, dark fic, intense gore, and any troupe where the characters are extremely ooc (like prostitute or porn star Blaine or Kurt). I like keeping my versions of Blaine and Kurt fairly close to their real characters, and I just don't feel like their characters would be into any of this. Not to mention, I'm kind of a PG13 type of girl who doesn't really like watching or reading things that are dark or explicit, so writing it would be extremely ooc for me.

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh man. I have so many. The main one that I keep coming back to is called Hummel's Haven of Hope, which will be an AU where Burt establishes a home for gay youth after Kurt attempts suicide (as explored in episode 2009 when he picks up a pamphlet about ending it all.) Kurt recovers and meets a young man after he was bashed and disowned. That young man just happens to be Blaine Anderson. The story will tell of their recoveries, their growth, and their inevitable love story. I don't know when I'll start this. I have so many irons in the fire.

***

Check out Gleefuldarrencrissfan’s Fics

Rim Job - Kurt tells Blaine he wants to give him a rim job. A rim job doesn't exactly mean what Kurt thought it did.

Zoom Mates - Kurt Hummel is a once-respected illustrator that's being punished for one misfortunate mistake by being assigned to novice writers that either lack motivation or inspiration until his boss introduces him to a talented up and coming author and former teacher, Blaine Anderson. The catch. It's March 2020, and they are quarantined and they have to conduct their meetings over Zoom.

Love, Blaine - Blaine Anderson is a typical teenager. Except he’s not because he’s hiding a huge secret. He’s gay. But after reading a confession on the informal Dalton blog, he discovers that he’s not the only closeted boy at Dalton. After a moment of courage, he emails him and ultimately starts up a friendship that will change life as he knows it. Loosely based on Love, Simon.

#author spotlight: gleefuldarrencrissfan

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bywordofaphrodite · 4 years ago

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Book Reviews 1 & 2: The Enchanted Wood and Adventures of the Wishing Chair by Enid Blyton

This review’s theme is magical children’s fiction ! Audience age range: early childhood !

Fun fact about me: I have fairy tales running through my head most hours of the day.

Magical lands and whimsical characters run freely through my mind any minute I have to spare, or even the ones I don’t. It has always been this way for me, whether in school, university or at work- when I am meant to be working on assignments or attending to patients in the hospital I work at- and Enid Blyton’s stories played a part in this, so it seems fitting I discuss her writing for my first post.

When faced with choosing a project for myself this semester, it was actually the memory of Enid Blyton’s novels that prompted me to decide to write book reviews of childhood favourites. I’d forgotten her name at first, and all that remained was an illustration of blue jelly and a boy with silver hair… and the name of the artist who illustrated my copies of the series: Georgina Hargreaves. One google search was all it took to remember it all! Then I ordered all three Magic Faraway Tree books and the Wishing Chair ones in the exact editions I had as a child, because I have no impulse control whatsoever.

Nostalgic review

Rating: ★★★★★

For my nostalgic review- otherwise known as my thoughts on these novels purely as I remember them from childhood- I’m giving five stars. They meant everything to me as a kid, and I reread them more than any other books I owned. I would choose a chapter before bed and travel into the magic lands at the top of the tree along with the main characters, exploring whatever good, evil or downright silliness happened to be up there at the time (and then stay there for a good few hours past my bedtime using the light under my door to squint at the pages and destroy my already dreadful vision just a little more for good measure. Sleep schedule who?)

I easily favoured the Magic Faraway Tree books over the Wishing Chair ones, though I loved them both dearly. I’m going to assume the reason behind this was because I preferred the tree to the chair, as- aside from Jo- I don’t recall ever having an affinity for any particular child amongst the main characters. I do also remember a great deal more of the goings on in the lands above the tree than I can the adventures in the chair, so it seems fair to say I read one a lot more than the other.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, these books cemented who I wanted to be when I grew up: a writer- a published author, to be specific- and an artist. Not just these two series, but anything Blyton wrote- her teen detective and boarding school series being notable favourites of mine. As detrimental as this dream has been to my family’s wish for me to become a lawyer, I must insist that everyone blame Enid Blyton for this and not me!

The Enchanted Wood Review

Post-read: ★★★

Synopsis: three children move from the city to a small country house with a forest out the back which they later come to know as the Enchanted Wood. There they come across a giant magical tree known as the Faraway Tree, where they befriend the many magical creatures living inside the tree, and explore the lands that settle above the tree every day.

Okay so! First up, I finished it so quickly. I’ve always been a very fast reader but even so I expected it would take several hours to read… it took roughly an hour despite minor interruptions by my siblings, so it’s very simplistic and easy to read. However… this level of simplistic is not, in this case, a good thing, at least in my opinion. I’ll elaborate on this further toward the end of this post, but the best word I can think of to describe the writing is ‘stunted’.

I read a few articles to see others’ thoughts on the novels, and one review stood out as being critical in multiple ways, some of which I agree and some I don’t really care about. I’ll link it here.

This review reflected a lot of the same points I considered upon rereading the books. Charming points: google buns and the Land of Birthdays; weak points: repetitive and a bit too holier than thou in the attempt to teach ‘lessons’. In terms of Flood’s (the review author) criticism, the renaming of the children from Jo, Bessie and Fanny to Joe, Beth and Frannie in new copies does not really bother me, although my own editions have the original names (the change of the children’s cousin from Dick to Rick was a wise choice, though Rick is an ugly name as well, but I digress). As with many modern changes to old novels, older generations criticise ‘politically correct’ motives, and Flood does exactly so here- miffed at the decision to rename one of the recurring Faraway Tree villains from ‘Dame Slap’ to ‘Dame Snap’. Flood likens the character’s previous habit of slapping naughty children to the witch in Hansel and Gretel locking children in cages, (I would think the cannibal element of this tale would reinforce the comparison more but maybe that’s just me???) asking why, if that fairy-tale hasn’t been changed, should Dame Slap have to adhere to modern discipline? Personally I’m mostly unconcerned with this either way, though Flood makes an interesting point. The woman is a villain either way, so a little clip over the ears is likely to properly drive the point home in my opinion, anyway.

And before I move on from this review, Flood’s hot take on the Saucepan Man is 100% on the ball- why was a grown, non-magical man walking around strung up with pots and pans all over himself and hanging out with a group of children? To be sure, he was not in his right mind, so I’ll shift the question to the parents here, who were fully aware that their children were spending time in the woods with this man. Very odd business indeed.

Characters who aged well: Most of the main characters remained likable to me. Jo was always my favourite as a kid, and he remains so- his impatience provides some comedic quotes and he never leaves his younger sisters behind on adventures, unlike many male characters in Blyton’s novels (I am looking DIRECTLY at you, Famous Five boys). He also doesn’t belittle his sisters at any point, even when they’re frightened, which is another thing that irked me about many of Blyton’s male characters. Using only the first book of the series for this review means that it’s possible that Bessie and Fanny are more prominent characters in the other books, but in this one it felt very much centred around Jo than I remembered- they are likable but don’t really do too much aside from Fanny’s banger of a birthday party which I’m rather jealous of. Upon rereading I like Moonface a lot more, but that’s probably because I resented my grandmother calling me ‘Moonface’ (I’m aware I have a round face, I do not need to be reminded of my eternal struggles on the daily). Silky is still a queen in my eyes- pretty, feminine, funny, kind and best of all a fairy. No flaws at all, I love her. In retrospect, Silky is equally my favourite alongside Jo.

Characters who aged badly (to me): as aforementioned… the Saucepan Man. To be fair, I never cared for him in the first place, and the same goes for his best friend Mr. Watzisname because he was downright maddening. Also, Dame Washalot can drown in her own washing. She managed to annoy me more than Dame Slap… at least Dame Slap was entertaining.

Favourite scene/quote: “‘Fishing!’ said Jo, in disgust. ‘Who wants to go fishing in the middle of a birthday party? Let’s get back at once.’”

This quote sounds so mundane but in context I just find his tone very amusing- Jo is always exasperated and impatient so his perpetual annoyance with everyone’s nonsense is relatable and funny. Furthermore, he says this during my favourite scene in the final chapter where they all travel to the Land of Birthdays for Bessie’s birthday. Bessie invites everyone living in the Faraway Tree to her party, which is essentially formed up in the land above the tree. Upon arrival, everyone can go into a small house with fancy dress costumes and choose anything they like, and then choose a table in the middle of a field. The table is set with cutlery and plates, and from there you must ‘wish your own tea’, as Silky says, which fills the table with jellies, lemonade, chocolate blancmange and other party food. Best of all is the birthday cake- also known as wishing cake- which grants a wish to anyone who eats it. Unfortunately, the Saucepan Man’s poor hearing ends up turning ‘wish’ to ‘fish’, and Fanny has to waste her own wish to get them back to the party, hence Jo’s vexation. The ending is very sweet though, with Moonface gifting his wish to Fanny and all of them happily going home. It was a lovely way to end the first book in the series.

Adventures of the Wishing Chair Review

Post-read: ★★

Synopsis: two children discover a magical chair with wings in an antique shop that leads to a host of new adventures and a new pixie friend they rescue along the way.

Like I said earlier, I preferred the Faraway Tree series to the Wishing Chair and that remains the same. The concept of lands coming to the top of a tree- and choosing whether to go up there or not- is more my style, and if the weather is bad you can just stay home, while the chair you just have to go with it. The Faraway Tree itself is also really wonderful, with all the interesting houses and shops inside it, and especially Moonface’s slippery-slip. On the contrary, the main location for the Wishing Chair series is the children’s playing room, and the chair itself is an utter menace. The villains are more irritating in this series- which is their job, I get it- but the children themselves aren’t quite as likable as Jo, Bessie and Fanny either. Mollie and Peter argue plenty and can be very selfish and silly at times, which is realistic, sure, but that doesn’t make them any less meh. The other main character is a pixie called Chinky (yes, I’ll get to this soon) who they rescue from slavery in a giant’s castle, and my opinion on him varies between chapters. There are some really cool places they go to and the illustrations make reading this more enjoyable despite the hasty writing and relatively flat characters.

Characters who aged well: ???? I mean… Mollie and Peter aren’t exactly my favourite children ever but they’re not too bad. My main criticism would have to be that there isn’t really anything defining about their personalities; to a degree I would say they are just a whinier version of Jo, Bessie and Fanny. I don’t think Enid bothered too much about changing base character traits in her stories, to be honest. There are a few characters like Witch Snippit and the Windy Wizard who help Mollie and Peter when troubles arise, but as the adventures always begin with the chair in the children’s playroom there aren’t really many magical recurring characters to properly consider.

Characters who aged badly: the children’s MOTHER. She is beyond irritating in certain chapters- like when she decides to take the wishing chair to her own lounge room simply because she likes it, even though the children themselves bought it and expressed how much they love it. Plenty of parents do this in real life and it is just as annoying in fiction. Secondly, the wishing-chair. Magical chair that grows wings and can fly to magical lands is cool, yes? Sure, except when it has mood swings and randomly decides to fly through storms or simply land in the sea for no reason I can think of. This is a very petty chair… yet I know I would keep it anyway so I can’t complain too much. I’m going to add Chinky here too, and not because he got saddled with a slur for a name- he gets fired up about minor things way too quickly and causes drama for no good reason, though perhaps I should cut him some slack after his time spent in forced servitude. Also, he makes a few sexist comments to Mollie so maybe the giant had a point after all.

Favourite scene/quote: ‘One rabbit turned upside down and danced on its ears, and that made Peter laugh so much that he had to get out his handkerchief to wipe his tears of laughter away.’

Peter being this happy just made me happy. This quote is from my favourite scene, when the children fly with some elves to attend a magician’s party. There is no villain to be seen, and the room is filled with classic Blyton details of top tier food like cream buns and blancmange, and beautiful birds that sing sweetly before flying freely. The magician has dancing cats appear, and ‘six plump rabbits’ that dance while the cats play violin. Finally, the magician gifts everybody a tiny egg he tells them will hatch later. When they arrive home, Peter’s hatches to reveal a tiny silver watch and Mollie gets a necklace of beads that look ‘exactly like bubbles’. This always sounded so pretty to me, and I had a necklace from my mum that looked exactly as Mollie’s was described, so I’ve always remembered this scene very well.

Overall verdict:

I’m torn. I love parts of these books so much, I love the nostalgia surrounding them, and yet I must admit that without a childhood connection it would difficult for a new reader to enjoy, and probably not the first choice in a bed time story to read to children nowadays. I think for me, I like having these books back on my shelf again, and I like knowing I can go back to read my favourite chapters whenever I want, despite the criticisms I have. In a way, I like knowing I am capable of recognising the books’ faults while still appreciating the good parts of them. I do not regret buying these books again- in fact looking at the artwork and reading the words has inspired me to get to work on my own plan to write a book of fairy tales (with the representation I would’ve loved to see alongside the magic as a child, and minus the problematic details).

With this in mind:

- Blyton’s writing skills… are sorely lacking. Her sentences are stunted and sometimes she changes locations so hastily within one small paragraph that if you so much as skim over one sentence you’ll find yourself in another land entirely (haha). I am wholly aware these books are intended for children but I have read other novels for that age group that have been well-written, so my criticism stands.

- I should just rewrite the books myself. I don’t care if this sounds arrogant, I know I could make the stories more compelling with a few tweaks to, say, writing skills, story structure, making better use of the amazing concepts, fleshing out the characters more, etc. (again I’m aware they’re children’s books)

- Enid Blyton herself was not a very nice person, and her own daughter criticised her writing for being emotionally immature and seeing things as ‘black and white’. Anyone who has read her other novels knows that she was very racist- ‘gypsies’ managing to be the villain in most of her teen detective stories, amongst other issues, so Chinky the pixie is not exactly a surprise appearance. It was Chinky, in fact, who first alerted me to racial slurs. As someone with partially Asian heritage at an almost completely white school, it took me asking my (rightfully) concerned father what ‘chink’ meant when some kids started calling me by the word in school… I then connected this to Blyton’s pixie and to this day am morbidly entertained by this unfortunate memory. I’ll link the article here, in case of any further curiosity about Blyton.

In the Faraway Tree series review I linked earlier, the writer said of the books, ‘it’s an odd feeling, finding the classics of your childhood don’t really stack up’. In many ways, I feel the same. Is it all nostalgia, after all? Yes and no. Having such a balanced opinion on an old favourite is likely healthier than clinging to past memories, anyway. With all of these thoughts jumbling through my mind, it’s possible that my rating of these novels changes depending on my mood- and more importantly, which chapters I read. Perhaps the fact that my favourite chapters are all devoid of confrontation is something a therapist would suggest looking into, but you know what? It’s fiction. If I have to get my happy endings in books alone then so be it!

#book review #book rating #enid blyton #the faraway tree #the wishing chair #british books #children’s book #fiction #magic books #university project #nostalgia

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magnetictapedatastorage · 4 years ago

Link

Fran Castan of Greenport is no stranger to writing about grief.

Her first book of poems, “The Widow’s Quilt” (1996), partially honors her first husband, Sam Castan — a Southeast Asia correspondent for Look magazine who was killed while on assignment during the Vietnam War. Now, she has been awarded the U.K. Hippocrates Prize for Poetry and Medicine for her poem “Voice Mail,” about losing one of her closest friends to cancer.

(the rest of the article under the cut)

“She was a remarkable person. She was a composer, a poet of note, a sculptor, a painter, a novelist, screenwriter — she did all these things. And they didn’t just stay in a room … they were really out there,” Ms. Castan said of her friend, Siv Cedering of Sagaponack.

Ms. Cedering immigrated to the west coast of the U.S. from Sweden as a teenager. “Allen Ginsberg even found her and thought she was amazing back then,” Ms. Castan said. “She never got the full recognition that her work deserved.”

Ms. Castan visited Ms. Cedering several times a week during the last year of her life to help put her last book together. “Then I’d go home, and I would be so sad, or admiring, or whatever I was feeling, you know, that I needed to do my work,” she said. Thus, “Voice Mail” was created.

The poem is written as two sections, “near sonnets” — a bit more formal than Ms. Castan’s usual style. The first, a voicemail from her friend’s perspective, gently breaks the news that the cancer has returned. But “have fun,” her friend says. “Look for the orioles. / I hear them everywhere.”

That’s one change Ms. Castan, who lives at Peconic Landing, where she teaches a poetry appreciation class, has made since she first wrote the poem 14 years ago. Ms. Cedering originally told her to listen for frogs. “And I have versions with that, but I prefer the birds,” she said.

The second section informs the writer, Ms. Castan, that “The previous message / Is about to expire. … press nine to save.”

“If only I could press / A button to save you,” she wrote. “But all I can save is your voice.”

Ms. Castan doesn’t publish enough — she has written enough poetry for at least five collections, yet she’s published only two books — so as one does, she made a deal with herself to send out more poetry in the new year. When she came across the Hippocrates prize, she thought of “Voicemail.”

She had entered another, more humorous poem about shingles in the Hippocrates competition two years ago, and that earned a commendation. She’s won several other accolades as well, including recognition as Long Island Poet of the Year in 2013. Her first-place prize this year, however, was a surprise.

“It’s a COVID year and the poem isn’t about COVID, so I never thought it would win,” she said.

Ms. Castan didn’t start earning a paycheck for her writing until after her first husband died in 1966. At the time, she was living in Hong Kong with her 1-year-old baby , and she thought, “Well, I’d better get a magazine job.”

She ended up in the typing pool at The New Yorker, where she “learned a great deal.” She was eventually promoted to an editorial assistant for the magazine’s poetry editor in the late 1960s. Her first article was published in 1970. She loved her work, but she wasn’t yet writing poetry herself.

That came to her later in life. Although Ms. Castan always loved the genre, she didn’t often see herself reflected in the work she was reading.

“When I was loving poetry, it was mostly dead white men that I read — not so much women,” she said.

She started writing her own poetry in 1978, 12 years after her first husband’s death. “At which point, I thought … I have to learn about this,” she said.

She earned an M.A. in creative writing from New York University in 1987, to top off a B.A. in English from Brooklyn College in 1959 and an M.A. in languages, literature and communication from Columbia University in 1980.

Since then, in addition to “The Widow’s Quilt,” she has also published a volume of poems called “Venice: City that paints itself” (2010), illustrated with art by her second husband, the late Lewis Zacks. Her poems have also appeared in several anthologies and magazines.

#suffolk times #long island

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worbiestuff · 4 years ago

Text

COVID-19 PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

COVID-19, Coronavirus, is an infectious disease caused by a newly discovered corona virus. It is spread or transmitted through droplets generated when an infected person coughs, sneezes or exhales. These droplets are too heavy to hang in the air and quickly fall to the floor or surfaces. Some common symptoms include fever, dry cough, and tiredness, loss of smell and taste, headache and so on.

From a personal perspective on how COVID-19 affected me, I would say it did so in a lot of ways; education-wise, economically, physically, mentally etc.

The first confirmed COVID-19 case in Ghana was on the 12th of March, 2020. At the time, school hadn’t reopened but was in the process of doing so. Because of this, the president instructed that we were all supposed to vacate the school/hostel premises to our various homes, signifying all studies and academics to come to an end. We ended up studying online which brought so many pros and cons, which in the end the cons outweighed the pros. Bad internet restricted me from joining classes sometimes. I wasn’t understanding most stuff being taught because most of the courses were practical. Plus, I ended up missing some due dates for my assignments and had to beg or ask permission from some lecturers to finish them up because I had to balance house chores with school work because I was obviously home and couldn’t shun them because it’s my responsibility. Also, I had divided attention because of my siblings. I have a large family and it wasn’t helping me at all coupled with the online studies. In the middle of a class, I could be called to go on an errand or just have my little siblings running around for running arounds sake. It was one hell I had to go through.

COVID-19 also affected me economically. I manage my mom’s businesses for her sometimes and during the COVID-19 period everything was literally on me. My mom sells clothes. We weren’t having as much sales as we’d have if we weren’t on lockdown. Most people weren’t purchasing clothes because there were no new occasions. Weddings, funerals, parties and the rest had been halted too. I remember a friend mentioning to me that even if she bought clothes she had nowhere to take it to so she’d rather not buy, and this was really bad because there was not as much cash flow as there was without the pandemic and the lockdown.

My movement was also restricted because of the pandemic. We stayed home for almost a year. Months without stepping outside, no church services, parties, no visitations, etc. I was not allowed outside the main gate because of this and it got boring. I was just doing or following a particular pattern or routine every day for months; wake, house chores, eat, online class, sleep, and repeat. I got tired of the routine, I got tired of being online, I got tired of being stuck inside, and I got tired of everything at a point. It got so boring but there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to stay alive.

My plans on travelling was tarnished. My family and I had plans on travelling during the Easter for the most famous festival of the year which was always held in Kwahu; “KWAHU OO KWAHU! This is like a ritual we always perform, going to my mom’s hometown for the festival, paragliding, hiking and having a lot of fun but this year we were restricted as the festival itself was even cancelled, prior to the president’s address to the nation. I mean we got really sad, especially my little siblings but we had to do our part, to help curb the pandemic in order to stay safe.

Despite the negative impacts it came with, I can never forget the good it did by bonding me with my friends and families. Even though my family is large, nobody really stays at home. My dad is a business man and is always travelling up and down because of the nature of his job. My mom on the other hand left home really early and came back really late, we could go a whole week without seeing her. My older siblings too hardly stayed home because they were working. Since the president announced the lockdown, we were all brought together. Our big family was back. I was seeing my dad more often, my mom and older siblings too. We would mostly gather around in the hall, watch movies or just discuss random stuff and it felt good. On the other hand I bonded well with my friends too because we were all online. Our old high school groups became more active, we were reminiscing on old times and laughing hard at old pictures. Though it was online and not physical, it felt good and real because I hadn’t spoken to some of them in years but we got bonded and more close because of the pandemic.

THE ARTIST WHO INSPIRED ME

EMMA HARDY

Based in London, Emma Hardy is well practiced in capturing the nuances of everyday life. Her images reflect an often unnoticed drama behind the scenes. Coming from a theatrical background and having worked as an actress herself before focusing on photography, Emma cites her fascination with people’s behaviour, the tensions, interactions and quirky humour, as a driving energy in her work.

Mainly self-taught Emma prefers to work with natural or available light, “I try not to impose much technique or too much of myself on my subjects.” As such, there’s a hallmark honesty to her work. Her images are infused with a believable sense of being, her portraits are intimate and unselfconscious. Tilda Swinton, Natalia Vodianova, Noomi Rapace, Michael Fassbender and Stella McCartney have sat for her, among others.

Emma finds inspiration in the chaos and unexpected beauty of life, the less seen moments in between. For each commercial client she challenges herself to bring her sense of authenticity to a necessarily constructed commercial brief, “I photograph with my heart engaged, and however manufactured an instance in photography, the test is to bring soul into commerce”. Describing her aesthetic as raw but tender, Emma finds beauty in imperfection, and polish in the detail of everyday life. And through her lens, the most ordinary moments seem steeped in romance and intrigue, as if her subjects are characters in a movie playing in her head.

WORKS

WHAT APPEALED TO ME

MOODS

Emma Hardy likes capturing the everyday nuances of life or everyday moods of life. Her images are natural and sometimes unplanned. Working with people’s behavioral manners, interactions, attitudes, etc. She tries to make her work as natural as possible and puts her heart into what she photographs, as she stated herself in a commercial brief.

COLOUR

Emma Hardy likes to work with natural or available light.

THE PLAN/THOUGHT PROCESS FOR THE WORK

The initial plan of the whole work was to create something like differences, get a picture of my sister and I if possible or do a clone of myself since we already look alike and are twins. This idea was to put across a message that conveys tolerance and bonding even though we’re two different people with different personalities but still twins. Later the plan changed because of certain unforeseen circumstances. This time I aimed at creating the same differences but this time with a ball, to one part would be edited as if it were night time or dark, and the other would be left with the natural light, to show daytime. This was to signify that the sun gives the moon light, and even though they are two different bodies, the needed each other. Same applies with my sister and I, each one of us has our own sides, but we need each other to be around. The final plan after a few criticisms from my lecturer was to do the Chinese symbol yin and yang.

The principle of Yin and Yang is that all things exist as inseparable and contradictory opposites, for example, female-male, dark-light and old-young. The two opposites of Yin and Yang attract and complement each other and, as their symbol illustrates, each side has at its core an element of the other (represented by the small dots). Neither pole is superior to the other nor, as an increase in one brings a corresponding decrease in the other, a correct balance between the two poles must be reached in order to achieve harmony. Personally, I feel this symbol best describes us as twins because even though we are opposites we attract and complement each other. We have tiny traits in each other. And at the core of one another, we are represented by each other.

SKETCHES, PINTEREST INSPIRATION, MOODBOARD

FIRST DRAFT WORK

FINAL WORK

TITLE

FOUND THE GOOD INSIDE THE BAD.

I chose this title because the corona happening was a bad thing that hit us all, but even in that bad, there was a little good; me bonding with my family, especially my sister was the good.

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dystopiancatalyst · 5 years ago

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I saw your response to someone asking about VCU recently do you have any advice for someone who's going to apply for fall of 2021? After my foundational year I want to be in the communication arts program. Thank you for your time and consideration! I appreciate you!

I just graduated from Comm Arts!

I’m just gonna give you some general advice, but if you want me to go into more specifics just let me know!

Portfolio:

Be sure to have a mix of realism and stylized work. You need to show that you have a good basis in the fundamentals. I had a bunch of photo studies from old family photos in mine.

If you can go to a portfolio day event and have your work reviewed by as many schools as possible. I’m not sure if they’re having them this year, but there might be some online events.

AFO:

AFO is a wild ride and is definitely created to weed kids out. There’s a high turnover of professors because they’re all adjunct, so the curriculum changes a lot from year to year. I would see if you can get in contact with someone from this upcoming 2020 freshmen class and ask for teacher recommendations.

Focus on making work you like. There will be a lot of weird assignments, so use it as a way to explore what mediums you enjoy!

If you are mostly a digital artist, I’d try to get some experience with traditional mediums (especially charcoal) because (at least when I was there) the AFO classes are heavily focused on traditional foundations.

I would check and see what the rules for the end of year portfolio is, because I know there was talk about changing the major admission process. When I was there you could include personal work made outside of class, but that could have changed. I included a lot of figure studies, realistic charcoal illustrations, and a comic in my final portfolio. Comm Arts is very heavy on the foundations of drawing the first year and then you get to do the more fun classes.

Comm Arts:

Your gonna get out what you put in. You need to focus on making things you enjoy, but also really focus on learning the fundamentals of drawing (composition, value, color theory, etc). Again, professors are super important, so I’d talk to someone a year ahead of you for reccomedations.

Your first year is going to have a lot of less creative work and your going to be frustrated with it. I promise it’s worth it. You gotta learn the rules to break them. The second and third year are a lot more fun! Use this time to take electives that focus on what you want to do. Comm Arts is a very broad major, but that means you can mess around and explore your options!

General advice:

Join a club if you can. It’s a great way to meet people, make connections, and learn new skills! I was an editor for the comics anthology Emanata and I got to table at SPX! It was super fun and the school paid for everything but my food!

Be sure to take breaks. Art school is really hard on your body and I know several people who completely destroyed their wrists. It’s not worth it. VCU has medical care included and it’s not uh... Great, but it’s free and better than nothing.

Have fun!!! Seriously college is stressful AF but it’s a wonderful experience. Just don’t do anything too stupid and you should be good to go. When I was there they had an Art Colony, which is basically a section of the dorms only for art students, and it was amazing. I met almost all my friends on the 5th floor of Johnson Hall when we all signed up for a DND group together.

College is a great opportunity start to find out who you are and what’s important to you. There are gonna be parts that suck, but also parts that make it all worth it.

Ok that’s a huge list of advice, but it basically boils down to:

Make stuff you like!

Make friends!

Learn your fundamentals!

Try new things!

Ask around about professors!

Good luck and have fun! My dms are open if you have any more questions!

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andersunmenschlich · 5 years ago

Text

Episode 4: Page Turner

This story follows a Dominic Swain. I was twenty-three, so that's... 22, 9, 27, 23. Talk about disorganization.

Dominic Swain is a theater technician who mostly does lighting, and one day he's going to see a play that's got a friend of his in it, a friend who he once had a fling with and hopes to again—which is a piece of information I really didn't need. Frankly the very idea of sex and romance makes me feel like vomiting and part of me would very much like to forget, if I could, how many people think they're brilliant.

I like people, don't get me wrong, but sometimes they disgust me deeply. It's a bit of a dichotomy. I wouldn't change them if I could, every part of them is a piece of what goes into making them so fascinating, but some things... well, some things I'd rather not think about too much.

Dominic Swain, then.

He's hanging out around the theater waiting for the show to start, and decides to spend the time in a secondhand store. I like secondhand stores. Things are cheap, and you get such a variety!

Apparently I like books more than Dominic does, though, because he says he usually doesn't bother looking through the book section. The book section is the best part of any store! Sure, some places don't have a very good selection, but it's still worth looking.

He finds an interesting book.

Oh, I like this story already. Imagine going into a secondhand shop and there, on the sci-fi/fantasy shelf, is an old book handbound in leather, written in Latin, and illustrated! With woodcuts! For four pounds, which I think is about five dollars US! Sure, it's been ages since I used to talk Latin with my family, but you'd better believe I'd be buying this Ex Altiora right away and doing some brushing up.

Dominic Swain notes that the book apparently used to belong to someone named "Jurgen Leitner," which strikes me as a pair of solid German names and makes me, as someone with a solid German name of my own, feel closer to this story.

Dominic also notes that one of the woodcuts (showing an empty night sky? somehow?) makes him feel like he's falling into it.

I have no idea how I would do a woodcut of an empty night sky.

Oh, wait—yes, I do! I'd cut a blank framed by trees or the tops of buildings or some such thing, so the viewer felt like they were looking up, past the world, into dark and bottomless space.

In any case, Dominic Swain buys the book.

He spends some time justifying his decision to pay the price set for it, which I find baffling—here's the book, here's the price, they go together nice and tidy and why, in the name of sanity, would you ever try to separate them except by the proper means of paying the price? But he talks about how there must have been some mistake in price-assigning and says he "felt like a bit of an arse for not letting them know how valuable it was," which I can't understand at all.

Value is not objective. Prices are assigned based on how much the price-assigner values the thing, not on how much the thing is "actually" worth—nothing is "actually" worth anything! If the book is more valuable to you than it is to the seller, well, isn't that your own good fortune?

Dominic Swain, like so many people, does not make sense to me.

He's alien to me on what seems to be an extremely basic psychological level... which is, of course, why I find him (and people like him) so extremely interesting.

In any case, he leaves the secondhand shop and realizes he's just about late for the play he was waiting for, so he runs off and sees it. He does not, apparently, particularly care for it—though he does like the job of acting his friend, Katherine, does in it... or he says he does, anyway. In my experience people tend to think everything done by someone they're hoping for a romantic or sexual relationship with is excellent right up until they get turned down, at which point they realize none of it was quite as good as they'd tricked themselves into thinking it was.

This is another reason to dislike that particular pair of human obsessions: they ruin your ability to perceive reality with anything even close to objectivity. They're known perceptual distorters: best to stay away from them.

More interestingly, he keeps noticing a faint smell of ozone throughout the play.

Now, I live in a reasonably ozone-polluted area, and I can tell you that though it's not horribly unpleasant-smelling or anything (at least not when you're used to it), it's bad for your lungs and hurts to breathe. At least, it hurts me to breathe it. I advise avoidance. Dominic can't figure out where the smell is coming from, which makes me think it's coming from the book.

...That's unfortunate.

I guess it makes sense with the title, though. Ozone is very much a thing you'll find in the heights—on Earth, at least!

He goes out with Katherine after the show. They have dinner and, to my relief, mutually decide that they're not interested in one another in either of those ways, freeing them up to have a conversation about the book.

Katherine tells Dominic he should get the book appraised.

Well, this comes down to asking an expert "What sorts of people would be willing to pay the most money for this thing?" which isn't an unreasonable question to ask.

At least, not if you're thinking about selling.

Even with the ozone, I admit I'd be tempted to hang on to the book, at least until I'd read it! Maybe I could seal it in Tupperware or something, keep it from poisoning me. Oh, a side note: Katherine's vertigo is triggered by the woodcuts, which means that's not a purely Dominic reaction. I like that! Apparently I have low blood pressure, so I experience orthostatic hypotension pretty regularly; feeling dizzy is kind of fun.

Dominic Swain says goodbye to Katherine, goes to his job, does it with no problems, spends some time after work hanging out with his coworkers (which sends a bit of a chill down my spine, thinking of doing it myself), and gets home late but not in a mood for sleep.

I do like his sense of humor, though.

"Oddly enough, I still hadn't learned any more Latin since I bought it twelve hours before...."

Hahaha.

He sits down to have a look at it anyway, and spends some time admiring the woodcuts. He says there are about twelve of them, mostly mountains and cliffs, but one of a tower circled by birds.

I like the sound of that one.

Then he gets enraptured by the one of an empty sky, though he has trouble looking at it for too long, which I suppose is the sign of either a very unsettling picture or a very drunk individual (he has been drinking). Or it might be both!

Wait, then he says "there wasn't much to the picture itself except for black ink and a few stylized stars."

That's not an empty sky!

I feel oddly cheated. Oh well—I suppose he meant there were no clouds or birds or... airplanes or some such thing. Just because "empty" means "without anything in it" to me, that doesn't prevent other people from using it differently (and confusing the living daylights out of me and anyone else who defines it the same way I do).

So Dominic Swain does some internet research and finally turns up something on eBay from 2007 (I would've been 28).

But it's not Ex Altiora. It's "Key of Solomon 1863 owned by MacGregor Mathers and Jurgen Leitner," and someone called grbookworm1818 bought it for... about $1500, I think that would be? But there's no picture, and this is all he can find that's even vaguely related to Ex Altiora.

So he calls it a night and goes to bed.

"I think I had a nightmare, but I don't remember the details," he says. That reminds me of the coffin from episode two!

He sleeps late, wakes up late, and spends the time before his shift going around asking booksellers about Ex Altiora. Apparently he's not interested in selling it, though some of them are interested in buying it—he just wants to know more about it, which it seems to me he could more conveniently do through, I don't know, READING IT?? What is it about Dominic Swain that he'd rather talk to people than study Latin?

Yes, I'm aware that most people are like this, but I really, truly don't understand it.

In any case, he finally finds a bookseller who's heard of Jurgen Leitner, and she tells him that Leitner was a rich Scandinavian recluse who was really into books back in the 1990s.

Apparently he'd pay ridiculous amounts of money for books, produce manuscripts he'd found somewhere and have them custom-bound, or even have authors write specific things for him (though she doesn't have any names, which is unhelpful).

One name she does have is "Mary Keay," the owner of a store called Pinhole Books, which Jurgen Leitner apparently bought from a lot.

So that's good information!

Dominic Swain works his shift, no news there, except that throughout he keeps smelling ozone (and maybe something else?) and getting dizzy, which makes me think that maybe Tupperware wouldn't be effective. That's unfortunate. I guess I'd have to sell the thing after all—but I'd definitely at least read it first! I have no objection whatsoever to actually learning a totally new language in order to read a sufficiently interesting book, and not only is this Ex Altiora very interesting indeed, I already have a foundation in Latin.

But apparently actually reading the book is an idea that just doesn't occur to Dominic Swain, who I'm coming to think of as a bit of a blockhead.

For once he doesn't hang out with his coworkers after the shift, and wanders the streets getting thoroughly lost instead. This is a thing I enjoy doing, though admittedly it's rather difficult for me: the town where I live is a small one, and after all I can't risk getting too far from home because what if I didn't make it back before sunrise?

I've cut it very close a time or two before, and each time it was very unpleasant.

Dominic Swain, on the other hand, apparently manages to wander right up to Pinhole Books, which is extremely interesting. Equally interesting is the fact that he's not surprised by this.

...Did the book lead him to the store?

What, he just wanders through the streets and falls up against a very specific bookshop?

Maybe Ex Altiora is hoping to get back into Pinhole Books?

A very old, painfully thin woman with a shaved head and every inch of visible skin tattooed over in some kind of writing opens the door when Dominic rings the bell. That... doesn't sound entirely natural, but then again I've met real people who looked similar, so who knows?

I'm reminded of Vinculus from Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: a person with a book written on their skin, a person who is a book.

This strange book-woman is apparently Mary Keay.

Also, she's playing very loud death metal at two in the morning, which strikes me as extremely rude. Actually I think anyone who forces their music on other people, at any time, is extremely rude—but some people aren't satisfied with rudeness and have to take their actions up to a level that basically qualifies as assault.

I don't think I like Mary Keay.

Dominic Swain shows her the bookplate of Ex Altiora. She seems to recognize the name Jurgen Leitner, and invites Dominic in via not closing the door, turning around, and heading up the stairs.

Not sure I would interpret that as an invitation. Actually I probably wouldn't be able to go into the building. Too much noise—unless I had earplugs I wouldn't be able to so much as think.

Aside from the noise, though, the place sounds fascinating.

A labyrinth of books, piled high in every conceivable corner? I could spend a very long, happy time in something like that (and when I was done you can bet the place would be clean, tidy, well-organized, and thoroughly read).

Oddly, Dominic says he hadn't smelled ozone since he arrived, so... wait, he's been carrying Ex Altiora with him this whole time? He didn't say he went home after work and picked it up, so—well. I guess that explains why he was smelling ozone at work. Maybe Tupperware would work after all. In any case, either something in here is suppressing the book or it's gone inactive on its own.

She's not interested in Ex Altiora, apparently.

But she does offer to show Dominic Swain another book from the library of Jurgen Leitner.

He follows her into what sounds like a lovely, cozy little study: bookshelves covering every wall, packed with books, a clearly much-used desk and chair, and one patch of wall without shelves, but with a picture. Sounds like the sort of place I'd like.

The desk's covered with papers, and also features fishing line and a straight razor. You know, I don't actually own a straight razor?

I have lots of edged weapons—a machete, paired kama, loads and loads of knives—but I don't have a straight razor. Or a butterfly knife. Push daggers are also on my mental wish list, and of course I'd like something better than a simple assist open... whoops, I'm getting a little too far off topic. The point (heh) is that I don't think it's odd to have things like that on your desk, though Dominic Swain implies that he found it odd once he had time to think about it.

The picture is a painting of an eye.

It's a really good painting.

"Very detailed, and at first I almost would have said almost photo-realistic, but the more I looked at it, the more I saw the patterns and symmetries that formed into a single image, until I was so focused on them that I started to have difficulty seeing the eye itself," Dominic says.

That sounds excellent. I like that kind of picture: where tiny things add up to something big.

Now, I know that a lot of people would have trouble with a painting that looks like it's watching them. I know this because I remember the time my family got all those classical paintings for art study and we were putting them up all over the house—no one wanted anything with eyes in it in any of the bathrooms or bedrooms.

Also I read a study once in which it was proved that people behave as though they're being watched when confronted with just a picture of something with eyes.

And honestly, I often have trouble with eyes.

I don't like looking into people's eyes, because there's just so much information there that it's overwhelming. But a drawing of an eye? Well, that's different. You can stare at that as long as you like and it's not going to get creeped out, is it? A painting of an eye isn't going to mind if you just look at it, taking all that data in, without looking away or blinking or saying a single word... ever.

But it does remind me of Graham Folger's notebooks, doesn't it? "Keep watching." See, I knew having that information would be nice! It's always good to have information (even information you'd maybe rather not think about too much).

Under the painting, written in fine green calligraphy, are three lines:

Grant us the sight that we may not know. Grant us the scent that we may not catch. Grant us the sound that we may not call.

Which sounds like an invocation or a spell or a prayer to me, but... is it just me, or are the words oddly equivocal?

See, you could be asking for "the sight we may not know," or you could be asking for sight so that we may not know, like asking to be focused on one thing so you'll never see another. (I often get so focused on one thing that everything else drops away, so I know whereof I speak here.)

Also, is that last line asking for the ability to make noises you normally can't?

Only I would have ended the sentence with "hear," not "call."

Mary Keay apparently left the room for a bit while Dominic Swain was staring at the eye painting, and now she comes back in with two cups of tea and the information that "her Jared" painted it.

She doesn't drink her tea. She leaves it on the desk. This strikes me as a bad sign, and in Dominic's place I wouldn't've drunk my tea, either.

Dominic Swain, though, doesn't want to be impolite. So he tries to drink it, and it's old and nasty and tastes like dust and smoke and may possibly have poisoned him, though he doesn't say anything about that and apparently he survived to give this statement, so... maybe not.

Anyway, Mary Keay finds her Leitner and hands it to Dominic Swain.

Interestingly, it looks just like Ex Altiora, so these two must both be ones Jurgen Leitner had bound specially. This one's untitled and written in Sanskrit.

...And Mary laughs at the idea of reading it.

Well, fine. Be that way, Mary—I didn't like you anyway.

Oh. Then she walks over to the desk and uses it as a shade so she can stick the book into a patch of dark shadows. And the heavy metal music's stopped! That's a relief, not that I was imagining it in the background this whole time or anything.

And when she hands the book back to Dominic, the book starts dumping little, twisted animal bones everywhere.

See, that's just untidy. I disapprove.

Dominic wants to know if Ex Altiora does that, and Mary laughs again and tells him to check, so he opens it up and has a look and right away notices that some things have changed.

Somebody's turned up the contrast on the woodcuts, and there are new lines in the background of each picture, thick, dark ones stretching from the sky to the ground. And in the picture of the "empty" night sky, there's some kind of pattern, which Dominic Swain unhelpfully does not describe particularly well at all, though he does say he recognizes it. Also he becomes very dizzy and almost falls over and then decides to leave right away, which he does.

Apparently the smell of ozone is back, stronger than ever, and he falls down the stairs on his way out, giving himself a nasty bruise and a twisted ankle before getting out in the street and hailing a taxi and going home. With Ex Altiora. So... it didn't want to stay in the shop? Maybe it just wanted something that was there.

Oh, now he describes the pattern. It's the Lichtenberg figure. I know that pattern too, it's like a branching fern.

Though it looks different on different surfaces, depending on where the electricity started from and how it flowed, so that's still not a great description—but it's better than none at all, I suppose.

Dominic says he knows it from the back of his childhood friend, who got struck by lightning because of him. That seems unlikely to me. I mean, unless he staked his friend down and set up a lightning rod? Dominic Swain doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do that, though, so this is probably some kind of irrational guilt thing.

...Yup, that's what it was.

So he and his friend Michael Crew were eight years old, playing outside, it starts to rain, Michael says "Let's go in," Dominic says "Let's not," Michael says "All right," and then he gets hit by lightning right there? Yeah, that doesn't strike me as an "all your fault" sort of situation.

Oh, and now we know what the other smell under the ozone was!

Cooking meat.

So this book smells like whatever scent you associate with a traumatizing sky-related event? Maybe I wouldn't need the Tupperware at all.

Dominic Swain gets home and collapses on his couch, where he lies with a feeling that he's waiting for something. Looks like the book's still messing with his head (no surprise there). Eventually somebody knocks on his door, he opens it and somebody who sounds like either Kiritsugu or Harry Dresden on a bad day is on the other side: hair too dark for his skin, unshaven, tired-looking, long dark coat.

Dominic Swain asks if he's Jared Keay.

This seems like an odd assumption, but apparently it's correct because the man says yes, he is, and asks to see Ex Altiora.

Dominic shows it to him. He looks at it silently for a while—without touching it—then nods and offers to buy it for over $6000. At this point Dominic says he would've been fine with giving the thing away, except that he had the feeling that unless money changed hands it'd stay tied to him.

So he agrees and Jared leaves to get the money.

Dominic Swain, now all alone with a book which, frankly, I don't understand his reaction to (it's weird, sure, but isn't that just fascinating?) ...he decides to do some Googling.

He Googles Jared and Mary Keay.

And he discovers that Mary is dead.

Actually he discovers that Mary was murdered back in 2008, four years before this statement. She died due to too many painkillers, but then somebody flayed her body (probably with a straight razor) and used fishing line to hang the skin up around the study to dry. And then they just left her there, until the neighbors complained about the smell and the police found her.

Also, while she was an old lady, she had hair and no visible tattoos. (No word on how skinny she was or wasn't, though.)

So then Jared Keay went on trial for his mother's murder, which seems about right to me, and got acquitted after a certain piece of important evidence was deemed inadmissible, although nobody seems to know what the piece of important evidence actually was.

...A book...?

And then Jared comes back, because of course he does.

Dominic Swain lets him in. Jared Keay gives him an envelope full of money. Dominic gives Jared the book.

Jared avails himself of Dominic's solid metal trash can and burns the book on the spot. The smell of ozone clears right up. Dominic asks why he's burning the thing, but all Jared says is that his mother doesn't always know what's best for their family, which doesn't seem like much of an answer to me, especially when he could just say "What, doesn't it smell better?" or something like that.

Jared Keay picks up the hot trash can full of smoldering ashes and heads out. He does not, apparently, ever return the trash can. So that's rude.

...Ooh.

Mr. Sims says, "I suppose it was too much to hope that we’d finally dealt with all that remained of [Jurgen Leitner's] library after the incident in 1994," which... does that mean he's encountered supernatural books before? Back when I was five? And if so, why's he still a skeptic?

Apparently Jurgen Leitner's books are a currently active Institute project.

I wonder what the Magnus Institute is doing with those books?

He also says that his predecessor, Gertrude Robinson, was head archivist for over fifty years. Geez louise, that'll give an incompetent plenty of time to mess things up.

Also, it seems like Jonathan Sims definitely makes sure his assistants know which statements he's recording to audio before he records them, because they always have plenty of time to do research beforehand. He says the third one of his assistants, Martin, couldn't find any evidence that a book named Ex Altiora ever existed, so he had his assistant from the first episode, Sasha, give it a go and she couldn't find anything either.

I get the feeling Jonathan thinks Martin isn't terribly reliable.

Not sure why, since thus far he hasn’t shown any signs of incompetence, but I suppose Mr. Sims worked for the Magnus Institute for four years before becoming head archivist so he might easily know something about this Martin that I don't.

Also, he says "If there are Leitners out there that we haven’t even heard of, I fear that may be cause for some small alarm," and he wants the search for missing Leitners to be made the Institute's top priority in order to avoid harm to the world, so how in the heck is he still a skeptic? Is it that he only knows about specific types of supernatural phenomena, so he discounts all the others?

Maybe it's that.

They have no idea who donated the book to the secondhand store, none of the staff remember it, and they can't find any mention of Jared Keay after his trial except this one.

But Tim, with what I'm coming to think of as his usual disregard for rules, somehow managed to get hold of the official police report on Mary Keay's death, so we now know that the flayed skin left drying around the study had been Sharpied all over in Sanskrit.

...Wow, she really was a living book.

Except how does that work? Because the binding on that Sanskrit Leitner matched Ex Altiora's, and doesn't that mean she'd have to have belonged to Leitner?

Okay: Jurgen Leitner did stuff with Pinhole Books in the 90s, Mary Keay was murdered in 2008, and this story took place in 2012. So unless Jared Keay gave his mother's book-body to Leitner—oh, this just doesn't make sense at all.

The two must be separate.

Maybe Mary Keay's supernatural book can be used to turn people into books? Except that her body was still hanging around for the police to find, so... well, maybe that particular Leitner can summon book-corpses from local graveyards or something, who knows. Or maybe it just summons the skin, and the weirdly twisted animal bones it drops are what it uses for a base to hang the skin on?

Whatever the case, I'm really starting to get into this podcast.

#The Magnus Archives #episode 4 #commentary #late to the party

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imaginesandsmut · 6 years ago

Text

A Fireplace and A Confession

Word Count: 2981

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: Fluff and a lil bit of smut (don't know how to phrase it)

You and Sirius have had a frenemy sort of relationship. One moment you're joking around and playfully throwing food at each other, then next, you're sending each other death glares as you’re both covered in squid ink due to your prank war. What happens when you're both alone in the Gryffindor common room? Will you admit your feelings or will you continue to keep them inside?

Sirius Orion Black.

When you first saw him at the train station, he was in a fancy wizard suit and you were in a jumper you got from your dad and pants that came from your cousin. You were saying goodbye to your parents before your first year at Hogwarts, you saw his soft face and held his gaze. He stared back at you with the same curiosity and wonder but was snapped out of it when his mother laid a harsh hand on his shoulder and muttered something to him before pushing him away from you.

You knew about the prejudice against muggleborns in the wizarding world and being from a muggle family, you knew your fitting-in-process would be difficult. Many purebloods stuck their nose up at you when you first asked if you could sit with them on the train, the only person who invited you to stay was a red headed girl with bright green eyes. Lily helped you get informed on everything about the wizarding world since she had already read all the history books, your friendship blossomed on that train ride through the snow.

Sirius Black was in your first class. Transfiguration. He commented a stupid remark about muggleborns and their likeness to trolls, as soon as you saw Lily’s face drain colour, you grabbed hold of your ruler and launched it at the back of his head. Sirius whipped his head around and was about to say something before being shushed by Professor McGonagall.

From then you decided you hated Sirius Orion Black.

It was fine because Lily also hated his best friend, James Potter. You both liked their other friends though, Remus and Peter, they were nice and didn’t bully other kids for a quick laugh. The years went by in a blur, first year was a haze of hate and snide comments at each other. Constantly torn between wanting to bicker with them or wanting to ignore them.

Your second year was filled with trying to compete for best grades in the class, almost as if there was an actual prize at the end. Sirius would flaunt his high score on a Transfiguration test whilst you would casually say how you got the top grade in the Care For Magical Creatures assignment. The teachers didn't know whether to stop the arguing or let it continue since you were both rising to be the best in every class.

Third year was when Sirius Black decided to grow out his hair and girls took notice. Obviously, you made fun of him in the beginning when his hair was nothing but the shortest bob on the planet, but you couldn't make fun of him when it reached past his ears. Never kidding yourself, you still made fun of Sirius, but you couldn’t deny that his hair looked good.

Fourth year was when you both had a prank war and turned Hogwarts into a battle ground. With every misplaced shoe and teeth staining water, you and Sirius Black started getting closer. Even though you both dyed each others hair bright pink before Quidditch trials, and you both shrunk every piece of clothing each other had until there was almost nothing for you two to wear, you and Sirius seemed to smile about it instead of sending scowls at each other. You both had detention after he filled the dinning hall with nifflers at the same time you enchanted every pudding to explode when someone touched it. When McGonagall stuck you both in a room together, forcing you two to talk it out, you and Sirius Black realised that you didn't hate each other. And maybe, you could become friends.

Fourth year was when Sirius Black became your best friend.

Fifth year was the one that confused you. Sirius was getting a lot of attention from girls and you hated it. Not because you want to be with Sirius, it was just because he seemed to move his attention from competing and joking around with you to competing his tongue with other girls’ tongues. Lily suggested here and there that maybe you liked him, but that was just as ridiculous as her liking James Potter. You could never see Sirius that way.

It is now sixth year and Sirius has been ‘boring’ lately. Well, that's what the girls he normally hooks up with have been saying to every girl who would listen. He has seemed to stop meeting up with them in dark corners before class and now spends most of his time in the Gryffindor common room. Every once in a while, Marlene swears she sees him staring at you whilst you're reading or talking to the group. Of course, you didn’t think anything of it drew it up to probably having something on your face at the time. On Friday, after Herbology, you overheard James asking Sirius why he has been acting different lately and all the black haired boy replied with was, “I've got my eye on someone else.”

“He was probably talking about you,” Lily commented whilst applying another layer of lipgloss on, “Merlin knows he stares at the back of your head during Potions more that he actually looks at the board.”

You snorted a little before replying, “Lily, soon enough Sirius will go back to his gaggle of girls that follow him everywhere and you’ll be left with me saying ‘I told you so’.”

Sirius Black never did go back to his ‘gaggle of girls’; every chance of spare time he got he spent with you. It ranged from helping you with homework, walking you to class, asking for you to explain a simple concept to him, and basically any other excuse he could think of.

Now you’re in your final term of sixth year, in the common room with all your friends. You’re supposed to be doing your Care for Magical Creatures assignment but the library is closed and Marlene is ‘using’ your shared bedroom with a Hufflepuff girl.

“I don’t care, James.” You fought back, pointing your pencil at him from across the common room. “Riding a unicorn will not be cool and you will die.”

“But imagine having that on a resume,” James was leaning on the fireplace as he opened his arms wide and pretended to read out a title, “Young Man Rides Unicorn And Doesn’t Die On Contrary To His Friends Belief.”

Remus whacked him on his knee with his book and caused everyone to giggle. Sirius looked over at where you were on the large couch from his chair near the fireplace, smiling at you.

“I love you, Y/N, but I feel like you could have more belief in me.” James was like your older brother, annoying you at any chance and loving you like family at the same time.

“James, I am studying unicorns for my assignment, so I think I would know best if you would die or not.” You looked down at the discarded textbook in your lap, the illustrated Unicorn looking back at you. “Besides, you know they hate men.”

James ignores what you say about him dying and instead asks about your assignment, wondering how it’s coming along. “I don’t see you writing anything down.”

“That is because the only space I can study is here and you guys are a distraction.” You laugh in hopes of not hurting their feelings and making sure that they know you’re not actually upset with them.

“You know what?” Remus announced to the room as he got up from his chair and picked up his books. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

He sent a look to the rest of the group and they all catch on, saying their goodbyes and goodnights to each other. You give Remus a thankful smile as he says goodnight to you. As you watch Lily leave and see her frame hide behind the staircase turn, you turn your own head back to the fireplace. You thought you were finally alone until you saw Sirius, still sitting in his chair.

“Aren't you going to bed?” You mostly asked this in an attempt to nudge him into leaving. Merlin knows you can't write this assignment with Sirius Black in the room, it’s too distracting.

“Thought I might help.” He got up and brushed off the imaginary dirt from his jeans before making his way over to the couch you’re sitting on and plopping himself down. “I don’t know much about Care For Magical Creatures but I could help you with the writing?”

“You don't even take this class?”

“Y/N, no one takes this class. You’re the only sixth year who kept it as their major subject.”

“Then why help?” You didn’t want to push Sirius away but an unrelenting nervousness was overtaking your body. This nervousness only started a year or so ago, but it’s growing stronger with ever day that passes and you can't figure out why.

“Cause.” He started, taking a quill from his pocket and grabbing a piece of parchment from your pile. “There's frown lines in between your eyebrows and you keep biting the inside of your cheek.”

Sirius points out the two quirks on your face and makes you realise that your were doing them right then. Slowly relaxing your features, you turn to see the paper he held in his hands.

“And what does that have to do with anything?”

“It means you’re stressed,” Sirius said this as if all of Hogwarts knows, “and I don't want you to stress out over a subject you love”.

You didn't know what to say, Sirius is giving up time he could be spending with his friends or sleeping to help you with an assignment. You looked over at him to see him spreading giving you the biggest, cheesiest grin he could muster, causing you to crack a smile on your own face.

“Here is my draft.” You handed him a piece of parchment with a draft of your assignment written badly all over it, the sentences looking like chicken scratch. “Just copy what I wrote and if you don’t understand my handwriting, just ask me and I'll translate.”

Sirius nodded before beginning to write the final copy of the assignment, his hand steady and smooth. Sirius couldn't help but smile a little, and you couldn't understand why he would when you saw it from the corner of your eye.

Half an hour passed before you started feeling sleepy. You and Sirius have been writing up your final copy of your assignment, one page each. You were doing every odd numbered pages and he was doing the even. You were almost done with your last page when you felt your head starting to lower onto his shoulder. You felt Sirius tense for a moment before relaxing and continuing his writing.

You told yourself that you’ll only close your eyes for a few minutes before going back to work, but when you woke up, you noticed a pile of stacked and perfect parchment papers on the coffee table. Quickly lifting your head up from his resting spot on the back of the couch, you saw Sirius bringing over a hot chocolate from the coffee/hot chocolate machine he and James stole from the Ravenclaw common room.

“How long was I out?”

“Only an hour.” Sirius smiled as he placed your cup down on the coffee table.

“An hour?! What about the assignment?” You scrambled forward to reach for your draft before being pushed back down by Sirius.

“Y/N, calm down.” He chuckled, was it just you or did his chuckle seem to be more heavenly when you’re half asleep. “I finished it for you.”

“Why? You didn’t have to.” You felt bad for him doing the work for you but also thankful cause your hand hurts like hell from all the writing.

Sirius sat down next to you as you shuffled up to be closer to him, “you have been freaking out over this assignment for two weeks now, I wanted to help you but if I stepped over the line, I'm sorry.”

You didn't know what to do so you grabbed your hot chocolate, moved around in your place on the couch to be side by side with him and leant your head on his shoulder, “thank you, Sirius.”

This was the real Sirius. Not the boy who said stupid things about muggles that his mother told him, not the mean boy who made fun of other kids, and definitely not the boy who you hated. The real Sirius is the boy who helps his friends when they need him, the boy who tells his friends that they can do anything they set their mind to, the boy who helps you with your homework when you passed out cause he knows how badly you want a good grade.

You look up at him and catch him staring down at you, his relaxed features make him seem younger, his eyes seemed to be a brighter blue in the light of the fire and his skin looked more golden. You hated that you were noticing all of these things about him, but you hated more that you wanted to keep looking at these things.

You noticed his hair falling in front of his eyes so you cautiously moved your hand up and tucked it behind his ear, trailing your fingertips back down, over his jawline and down his neck before he grabbed hold that same hand.

Your heart was beating a million miles per hour cause you thought you crossed a line, well, you defiantly crossed a line. You’re supposed to be friends, best friends. Best friends don’t do this, best friends don't make an intimate gesture in the light of a fire when they're alone.

Sirius was still holding your hand, frozen on the spot of his neck that you last touched. He closed his eyes and when he opened them, your breath got caught in your throat.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“I was just trying to get your hai-”

“No. What are you doing to me?”

You didn't understand. With his spare hand, Sirius grabbed your hot chocolate from your other hand and placed it back on the table. When he turned back to you he held both of your hands in his and held them by his chest, causing you to shuffle into a more comfortable position, closer to him.

“Sometimes I think we’re just friends cause you never show any interest in me other than when we’re in a group setting......and now we’re alone.....and I can’t keep my eyes off you,” Sirius’ eyes flick down to your lips then back to your eyes, “what do you want, Y/N?”

“I don't know.”

There was a pause as you both looked at each other, then down to each others lips and back up again.

“I want to kiss you.” Sirius whispered.

You waited. You didn't know if he wanted you to say anything or if he was just saying what he thought. Deciding to test the waters, you closed your eyes and whispered, “kiss me.”

With that, Sirius quickly pressed his lips against yours, letting go of your hands and moving you back so you’re lying across the couch and he's hovering over you. Sirius’ hand held your hip as the other was above your head, your hands gravitated towards his hair. You open your mouth for him and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, earning a small moan from you. Sirius’ large hand caressed your hip which resulted in your tugging his hair for more. A groan came from the black headed boy as you pulled on his hair, causing him to grind his hips against yours. Sirius could've sworn that the moan that came from you was the most heavenly sound he has ever heard. Wanting to hear it more, Sirius grinded himself down on you as he broke away from your lips and kissed your neck, a few nips here and there.

You were in heaven, looking up at the roof and feeling Sirius grind against you, his hot breath and tongue on your neck and collarbone. You wanted to continue but you didn’t want to be just another girl he has sex with, you couldn't let him charm his way into making you something you're not.

“Sirius.”

Sirius mumbled as he grinded his clothed dick over your thin pyjama shorts, milking a moan from you and a growl from him.

“Sirius.” You tried again.

“Yes?” His voice was dreamy and a little husky, but you couldn't be distracted.

“We can't do this here. We can't do this.”

Sirius lifted his head from your neck and looked at you, stilling the movements of his hips, “what do you mean?”

“I can't be the next girl on your list of conquests, and I defiantly don’t wanna be the girl you hook up with casually as you’re going after someone else.” You pushed him up so he was away from your face so you could see him clearly, and so you're not tempted to kiss him again.

“Y/N, you don't understand, I wan-”

“Thank you so much for helping me write my assignment and for doing the rest of it but if that was just to get in my pants then I'm sorry but it didn't work.” You got up to collect your things and as you were about to leave, Sirius grabbed hold of your hand.

“Y/N, I love you.”

What. Pft, no. No he doesn't. He's Sirius Black. Sirius Black doesn't love anything besides himself, his hair, and stealing Remus’ chocolate.

“You don-”

“I didn’t kiss you because I needed to get my dick wet, I wanted to kiss you because your Y/N. I’ve wanted to kiss you for years, because I’m in love with you.” Sirius looked stressed, as if every second of silence that passed, you were slipping further and further away from him. Sirius searched your face and when he noticed that you weren't going to say anything, he continued.

“I want to win this war, Y/N, not just for the wizarding world, but to be able to build a future with you. Merlin Y/N, I wanna marry you one day.” Sirius had gotten up now and was pacing the floor in front of you, only a coffee table standing between you. “When I first saw you, I instantly fell. But I was scared, my mother knew you were a muggleborn by the looks of your parents and told me to stay away from you. Threatened to abandon me if I even became your friend. I said that stupid comment in our first class together and you hated me, I didn't know what to do but if you hated me and that was the only was I could get you to notice me, then I would make myself be the person you hated the most.”

Sirius talked with his hands, using them to explain his point properly. Now his hands were flying all over the place, going between messing with his hair and swatting around imaginary bugs.

“God, Y/N, the whole reason why I started that prank war in fourth year was to have a reason to see you everyday.” Sirius laughed a little at the stupidness of his plan but smiled at the relief that it actually worked. “Juvenile, I know but I didn't know what else to do. I loved you and I was stupid”

You didn't know what to say. Sirius Black, your best friend, they guy who you thought hated you for a good part of your school life together, loves you.

“Y/N, please say something. I’m dying here. Please tell me you love me too. I can't go on pretending that you don’t tear me to pieces.”

You were looking at Sirius with wonder on your face, wonder at how lucky you had gotten in this lifetime to find someone. Your mother told you that love is a friendship with more trust, others told you that it was finding the most beautiful person and worshipping them with all your heart.

But as you stood there in the fire lit common room, finding yourself to love not just your best friend but the most handsome of men is your crowning glory. Slowly, you stepped around the coffee table and moved to stand in front of Sirius. You could tell the boy was freaking out by the way his eyes were wide and how he watched every movement you made.

You raised your hands and held Sirius’ face, looking into his eyes before reaching up to place a quick kiss on his lips, you pulled away and looked up at his closed eyes. “I loved you from the moment I met you, I was just to stubborn to realise.”

Sirius’ eyes sprung open and the biggest grin crept its way onto his face, you smiled back at him as he pulled you into his arms for a hug with his head resting on top of your own head, swinging you around like a rag doll.

“I’m gonna be the best boyfriend you have ever had.”

“Oh really?” You chuckled at his statement. Sirius looked down at you with his award winning smile, he looked so boyish but also so beautiful.

“Really. Cause I know that I love you more than anything in this world. And if that doesn't say something, I don't know what will.”

#sirius #Sirius Black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius x reader #sirius black fic #Marauders #marauders era #marauders au #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #sirius black imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #smut #Sirius Black smut

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merrysithmas · 6 years ago

Note

hey I first wanted to say I love your analysis of tgf, I think it's really incredible how you can write out such long, well thought out answers to asks. What do you think about the parallels of Boris and Tom Cable as influences in Theo's life?

thank you! I love TGF fandom it’s small but supportive and everyone contributes such amazing analyses, illustration, memes, and whatever else. and we inspire each other!! we’re a such cool group of art thieves i gotta say 😄

Tom and Boris are paralleled through the novel in some ways. Tom gets Theo into smoking and stealing. Many people forget Theo was already smoking cigarettes/weed and breaking into people’s houses and stealing things way before he met Boris or his mother died. But Theo and Tom’s theft is meaningless fun and harmless acting-out. Theo details how Tom was part of the cooler crowd but still peripherally hangs with Theo and they get into trouble together (even though Tom was on the edges of the social crowd of kids who used to beat Theo up and tease him). Theo talks about how he - a scholarship student - has taken to skipping assignments and falling behind in school and blowing things off ever since Larry ditched he and his mother. Theo was a slacker, a stoner, and a thief way before Boris — with Tom. (That’s important — Boris didn’t ever “corrupt” Theo).

In fact, if you didn’t know Theo was talking about Tom right here: My friendship with [him] had always had a wild, manic quality, something unhinged and hectic and a little perilous about it, and though all the same old high energy was still there, the current had reversed, voltage humming in the opposite direction — you’d swear it was Boris he was talking about.

After Theo’s mother dies, Tom becomes distant and strange and ignores Theo, sometimes quite callously, if I’m remembering correctly — an affront Theo can’t abide and he gets very angry and upset to the point of confrontation. Theo tries to provoke fights with him: now instead of horsing around with him in study hall I wanted to push his head in the urinal, yank his arm out of the socket, beat his face bloody on the sidewalk, make him eat dogshit and garbage off the curb. Tom likely feels guilt, drawing the conclusion that his misdeeds with Theo created the gap in time which lead Theo and his mother to the musuem that fateful morning. In the end, it is Tom who “steals” his comphet relationship with Kitsey — by betraying him again and cheating with her. Tom is a “bad influence” who the Barbours do not accept because of his alleged criminality.

Now compare this with Boris — a friend he also steals, smokes, does drugs, and ditches school with. A friend who is also seen as “cooler” at school than Theo but who wholeheartedly is devoted to him. A friend who tries ardently to heal the wound his lost mother left even though he never knew her. A friend who never shies away from or ignores Theo’s pain, nightmares, or depression — but deals with them head on by cuddling, calming, and saving him from dark urges. A friend who also steals with Theo and teaches him how to steal not meaninglessly — but for survival. Food and medicine. Not rich people’s nonsense from the Hamptons like with Tom. Like Tom, Boris also “gets in between” Theo’s comphet engagement but in a manner we as readers know is clearly caring in nature — to stop Theo from doing something he knows will hurt him. Boris too betrays Theo by stealing the painting (Boris has a connection to the museum now like Tom does) - but wades through a decade of heavy guilt until he can get it back and return it to Theo. The person who he credits with saving his life. Tom never addresses his guilt over the museum with Theo. It can be surmised that the Barbours would not approve of Boris either, what with their rejection of Tom for his likely at worst white-collar crimes. But Theo doesn’t care in this case— and in the end choses Boris over the Barbours. (Not to mention Theo himself is a mostly remorseless criminal, and sees the hypocrisy of his relationship with the Barbours).

It also stands to mention that “criminal” Tom and “criminal” Boris are the love interests of Kitsey and Theo — the two people who are deluding themselves into a Business Marriage together for the sake of the delicate Mrs Barbour and stagnated in their own fears against pursuing their own lives and wishes when faced with how others will perceive them (Kitsey worried about social status and likely her general future, Theo worried about social standing if he is outed as queer/kicked out of the Barbours social circle/loses his fake mom Mrs Barbour). Theo and Kitsey have a conversation about being “in love with the wrong person” before they both finally painfully see eye-to-eye and agree to their fake wedding. They are enabling each other in their grief and guilt - Kitsey over Mr Barbour and Andy, Theo over Mrs Barbour, his mother, his father, and his sexuality.

Theo wants to make his mother proud, gain a new stand-in Mom because he is stymied psychologically, distance himself from his father by becoming “high class”, and convince himself he isn’t queer. Kitsey wants to mute the grief of her guilt over the death of her brother and father and her heart which tells her to love Tom opposed to her father’s wishes for her. Kitsey even mentions once how Theo “straightened up” since being with her which Theo is startled and offended by — (gay paranoia) before Kitsey waves it off. They know each other and they know what they are doing. They see one another as allies and fear acknowledging what they feel is their mutual cowardice.

Theo also does not see Tom for many years — another parallel between Tom and Boris. He is surprised on the street to see Tom making out with Kitsey, only to return to the street and find... Boris, excited and elated to see him.

There’s also the symbolism that Theo mentions between he and Tom pressing their cut thumbs together in Tom’s backyard. This is to represent their childhood oath of brotherhood which has practically fractured in every way possible by adulthood. The very next sentence Theo narrates the image of Boris seizing his bloody knuckles and pressing them to his mouth— a memory full of disconcerting allure to him. It is juxtaposed to Tom and Theo’s childish cut thumbs to illustrate the difference between Theo’s relationship with Tom and Theo’s relationship with Boris — Boris and Theo are not just friends. They are not brothers and their chivalrous oath and hand kiss are not childish or breakable by time. It is different with Boris. We are meant to see that as readers.

I think Theo and Tom are supposed to represent a “normal” friendship for Theo. Silly, meaningless trouble and fun as kids — and then crossed wires and distance as adults. It is supposed to show us how different things are between Boris and Theo versus any other relationship in the book — highlighting how Theo acts when he is just bros with another boy for real (Tom). And when he is “JUST BROS I SWEAR” with Boris — but actually quite obviously in love with him.

As adults Boris and Tom are juxtaposed again in the context of the Theo/Kitsey dynamic. Tom is a “criminal” like Boris — but Tom was privileged and Boris was not. Tom meanders in his bad reputation while Boris thrives in it. Tom goes behind people’s backs whereas Boris confronts people and himself. Tom does not take responsibility for his misdeeds and Boris does. Tom is content to cheat with Kitsey whereas Boris asks Theo come to Amsterdam with him at his own engagement party. Out in the open. Cards on the table. Honesty. Tom is likely not a “good” person — Boris, despite outwardly having some of the same labels, is.

Boris and Tom mirror each other just enough to let us see the difference between Theo’s feelings towards friends vs. more than friends. Boris is Theo’s real friend (he supercedes Tom in every area) — and leaps the fence of Theo’s emotions, falling squarely in the “more than friends” category. Something that is much different than we see from Theo’s embittered bro dynamic with Tom.

#ask #avocadoapocalypse #the goldfinch #boreo

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youreawizardharr · 6 years ago

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Cradlesona Event: School Days AU

[the image used can be sourced here.]

Welcome to Milreth

Name: Milreth Academy

Location: Central Quarter

Emblem: Two Staffs Clashing

Motto: "Ever Progressing."

Headmaster: William Latton

Academy Hours: 7:30 a.m - 4:30 p.m

Office Hours: 6:20 a.m - 6:20 p.m

Lunch Hour: 12:30 p.m - 1:15 p.m

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My piece for the Cradlesona AU event

Tagging: @lovingsiriusoswald

The uniform below can be found right here.

The uniform Eirene has worn since she attended Milreth Academy as a first year student. She always wears the jacket during class hours, and takes it off during breaks.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

"Hold fast to dreams,

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird,

That cannot fly."

Basic Information

Name: Eirene Beverly Chapman

Age: 20

Date of Birth: July 9th

Bloodtype: AB

Gender: Female

Height: 5'3"

Weight: 127lbs

Occupation(s): The Classicists

Affiliation(s): Milreth Academy

Alignment: Neutral Good

Item(s): a lanyard with her student ID

Academic Information

Year at Milreth Academy: Second Year

Academic Club: House of Arts

Choice of Course: Art & Design

Major: Fine & Studio Arts

Degree Needed: Master's Degree

The Overview: The coursework of a studio and fine art degree typically focuses on the branch of art students choose, such as painting, sculpture, illustration, animation or performance.

Favorite Subject(s):

Reading

History

Literature

Language Arts

Least Favorite Subject(s):

Mathematics

Science

Grade Point Average: 3.8

Academic Credits: 390

Studying Habits:

Eirene prefers a quiet enviroment to study for exams, complete homework or class assignments, practicing with drawing on paper, painting illustrations.

She sometimes organizes study sessions for upcoming exams or class projects (to which she deems important for social interactions, boosts friendships, and helps others in areas they have a harder time with). Eirene usually studies with almost everyone, but studies with Harr and Loki mostly.

Eirene has an exceptional memory, so she doesn't have to write down everything she needs to do or to get.

Her sleep schedule varies at nighttime, mostly because of projects, assignments, writing essays, or exams.

She makes sure to eat healthier snacks.

Student History:

Eirene received a perfect attendance award for never missing a day, or being marked as tardy for being late to class.

A painting she did of the garden in the Civic Center was auctioned at a museum for an extremely high price.

She has wrote several short stories which were published and sold at bookstores across the Central Quarter.

Student Life:

Eirene doesn't have much of a social life, meaning she isn't the partying type, and likes to spend her time wisely by being productive than some of her friends.

She loves going to Milreth's enormous library, but avoids the cafe because it gets overly crowded during exam days.

Eirene enjoys taking long walks or jogging along Milreth's huge courtyard.

Whenever inspiration strikes, she loves drawing, writing, or painting whatever it is that catches her interest. Eirene usually submits these pieces for classes.

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Relationships

Harr Silver ;

Harr is a third year student at Milreth Academy. However, he and Eirene are taking two completely different courses. With Eirene having chosen art & design, majoring in fine and studio art, where as he's taking a course on engineering, majoring in architecture. The two are constantly busy, but always find the time to spend together.

Eirene leans forward, continuing to run the tips of her fingers through black tresses. "Hey, Harr?" Her inquiry is murmurered, but the man in question hears her, humming to confirm he heard her. "Want to come over for a study session? You can bring Loki along, if you feel uncomfortable being alone with me." Harr opens his visible eye, staring up at his girlfriend of two years. "W-What do you need help with?" He looks away from her, a blush blossoming onto his face. "Are you having problems with math again, Eirene?"

She stops playing with his hair to stroke his reddening cheek. "You know I've never been particularly talented with mathematics, Harr. But you seem to have no issues with figuring out complicated math problems, am I right?"

The third year student sat up, shifting to address his lover. "I can help you in areas you have the most trouble with. If I have issues with drawing and maping things out, I know you will help me. We balance eachoth--- Eirene cuts him off, pressing her lips against his. Pulling away, she smiles happily. "You know I'll do anything for you, right, Harr?"

Loki Genetta ;

Loki is a first year student at Milreth Academy. He decided to take a course on business, majoring in business management & administration, minoring business sales. Loki wanted to take a course on business, so that he can work closely with Harr. Hoping that, when the two of them graduate, they can open up their own business in Cradle.

Eirene and Loki always hang out together on weekends or through group study sessions. If Harr is too busy, Loki will help Eirene with her standardized homework, and even allows her to practice drawing illustrations of him and watch her paint them, afterward.

Loki procrastinates completing his work alot of the time, making Harr lecture him about the importance of his education and that working hard will pay off once he graduates, even reminding Loki about them opening their own business in the Central Quarter, which inspires Loki to complete his work.

"Loki, have you completed your homework?" Harr inquired the pink haired teen, scrubbing a filthy dish with a soapy sponge. "Have you even started your class project? You know, your paper is due next week." Loki silently toys around with his unfinished dinner, causing the tips of the fork to scrap against the glass. "Eirene is writing my paper. And before you start nagging, she offered to write it for me. She said she wanted to practice writing, so I agreed in exchange for doing her math homework for her. I hate writing, you know that. I believe this is fair."

Harr rinces the plate once he finished scrubbing, setting it down in the dish rack. "Your education is important. I've told you this countless times. Both of you should be doing the work yourselves, so that you can learn to accomplish in areas you're weak in." The third year student grabs another plate to scrub. "Do you want to open up a business with me once you graduate from the academy?" Loki stood up from the table to scrap leftover food into the trash with his fork. "I do want to open up a business with you, Harr. I thought this course would be fun, but it's not fun. There's too much work involved." A sigh escapes from Harr. "Loki, you have to work for what you want. Life isn't going to hand everything to you. If you want to open up a business with me, work hard to achieve it. I will support your dream."

Loki ran up the stairs to his room, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing throughout the house. Harr returns to washing the rest of the dishes, making a mental note to lecture Eirene at a later date.

Seth Hyde ;

Seth is a third year student at Milreth Academy. He decided to take a course in art & design, majoring in fashion & apparel design. He wants to be a fashionista, and expand his experience in the fashion industry of Cradle. Seth is confident in his ability to design fashion wear for women.

Eirene and Seth met by accident one afternoon (during break, to be more precise), becoming good friends with one another.

"You made a mistake." Eirene pointed out, gesturing toward the mistake Seth made. The man let out a shriek when he noticed the mistake. "How can this be?! I was certain I drew the curves correctly!" Smiling, Eirene takes the artbook from him, using her own pencil to erase the mistake and correct it. "No worries." She handed the drawing book back to him. "My name is Eirene Chapman."

He grins, placing the artbook down beside him. "My name is Seth Hyde. Want to be friends, Eirene? We can bond over artwork."

The two of them mostly hang out during breaks, sharing their drawing techniques, offering advice about improving styles, etc. Seth and Eirene brainstorm color palettes, and Seth watches Eirene paint his designs.

Jonah Clemence ;

Jonah is a third year student of Milreth Academy. He decided to take a course in art & design, majoring in drama & theater art. He's confident with his performances on the stage, and wants to be a famous, talented actor of Cradle. Eirene met Jonah when she was tasked to help set the stage for an upcoming event the academy planned for.

"This goes against my aesthetics." Jonah remarked, taking Eirene's artwork and throwing it on the floor of the stage. "Make it better." The second year student kept her mouth shut, feeling her eyes sting with unshed tears. Seth came up besides Eirene, picking up the scenery illustration she made. "What do you know about aesthetics, Cling of Hearts? I believe Ei did a fantastic job painting this piece. Do you know how many hours she's worked on it?" The fashion designer scolded the young actor. "Do you?"

The Queen of Hearts scoffed, regarding Seth with disdain. "No, but I don't care. Everything has to be perfect for this play, since I have the lead role. Second best is not an option."

Eirene forces a smile, reaching down to pick up an opened can of paint. "You think my work is second best? I put my heart into everything I draw, paint, and write. If you wanted someone better, then you shouldn't have wasted your time asking for MY help." She dumps all the paint on Jonah, throwing the can off to the side once there's nothing left, storming off the stage, leaving a shocked Seth and an angry Jonah behind.

#ikemen revolution #school days cradlesona #my writing #cradlesona au event #jonah clemence #seth hyde #harr silver #loki genetta #hopefully this is all right 😅

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en241 · 5 years ago

Text

Wednesday, 22 April

Extra Textra

Here are your Questions & Comments on The Sweater. But first, my assignment for Friday:

Please watch The Sweater again. This time, instead of watching for the maturation plot, consider the identity problem (the adult’s recognition that they were once someone different, as well as the child’s recognition that adults are different from who they are -- and that someday they too will be an adult).

Also, try try try to look beyond the didactic reading to the subversive reading; beyond the lesson reading to the message reading. Flip the burger. What if the kid is actually the mature one? No really. The one with fresh batteries in his bullshit detector. (You’ll enjoy the story much more the second time! Have fun!)

Now, on to the comments:

I thought that by the end of the film, the kid would learn a moral lesson like what his mother told him but he didn't. It just ended with him in the church praying that his sweater got eaten by moths. It felt a bit like a letdown but I understand since kids are like that. He is very immature while the mother is the opposite. She is very mature. This makes sense, as adults are usually the mature ones. The kid acted like a typical child. He didn't care about morals he just wanted the right sweater. I think if the film extended beyond 10 minutes, we would see the child eventually mature and realize that what the mother said was correct.

This was definitely cheerier!I can appreciate how well the introduction is able to portray the overall concept despite it not being in English.Like in Treasure Island there is this idea of a role model or someone to aspire too. Where Long John Silver and Billy Bones were not necessarily healthy role models for a young boy, this hockey player seems much more innocent.Not going to lie, the part where the priest comes in to play was a little weird and kind of did not fit with the narrative in my opinion.It reminds me of the discussion we had about "Where the Wild Things Are" and the idea of teaching lessons through narrative. While WTWTA does so in a less obvious way, "The Sweater" is obvious in its message. The idea of respect and consideration comes into play when the mother explains that if the boy would not wear the blue sweater that Mr. Eaton's feelings would be hurt. The boy is punished for if he does not wear the sweater just as much as if he does which is where this story kind of loses me. The church scene comes off as a kind of easy way out.A salvation story maybe, I don't know this one was a little odd for me.

I believe that was a very good illustrated video. I really enjoyed the story line as well. My first reaction to the video was this kid is just like everyone else. They love the game and love the player. Once the video continued it seemed he was ungrateful. The player everyone looks up to actually took the time to send him something. He did not want the sweater because he did not fit in with the rest of the kids. He did not value what he received because it was not what he wanted. The kid having a blue sweater also showed a form of discrimination. They did not let him play in the game because of the color of his sweater. They did not consider who gave it to him and how much that person meant to him. In relation to our maturation plot, I feel he never made it to that second house. He got lost in the woods and is still trying to find his way.

In watching this video, that character never matured. He still in the end refused to be happy with what he had. In a way, this is what happens in many children's books. Children are never happy with what they are given and just wish everything would work out for them. This is similar to "Where the Wild Things Are." Max just got his way in the end. He was not happy about what happened and what he was given, so he left. When he come back, he was the same as before and was even given his meal after all he had done. In the end, this character is not maturing. He is staying near the very low levels on the mature-meter.

Moving onto the short story on youtube there's a lot of things happening with this boy, but I think this short story mostly relates to the secret garden because of the effect of negative thinking. I didn't come to this conclusion until he got the wrong sweater and spoke a lot of negativity into existence which brought him a lot of trouble the following time wearing the sweater like getting benched, getting a penalty, breaking his hockey stick then getting yelled at by his mom. His mom said “if you make up your mind before you try it you wont go very far in life,” and “its not what you put on your back its what you put in your head.” I’m stuck between feeling like she’s a wise lady and meant well by writing the letter and getting her son the sweater, and feeling like she noticed how unhappy he was and she could’ve written another letter so he could get the right one but if that happened then he would never learn.

"The Sweater" is a story about a young boy who started out being a part of a group of boys all wearing the same red white and blue hockey sweater. The group mentality ruled and each individual couldn't see their identity beyond the group. When the boy received the new sweater and was forced to wear it, marked a changing point in his life. He had live with the embarrassment and disgrace of not being like the rest of the group. He had to mature so that he could break away from the group mentality and find his own individual identity. The mother in the story the driving force because she refused to to return the sweater and made him wear it. You can't get angry and lose your temper. Growing up means taking what you have and learning from it. At the end this boy's efforts were symbolically rewarded by a handshake from the treasured hockey player.

Well, the video left me at a cliff hanger. I feel as if the lesson wasn't executed very well and had a very abrupt ending . I am not entirely sure what exactly the lesson was, there could've been a few such as teaching children the importance of not idolizing objects, a healthy balance between your thoughts and your friends. But I do also agree that this could teach adults a lesson, at the end of the video this big scary lady tells him to go to the church and pray for forgiveness and he prays for his shirt to be eaten up by bugs. Sometimes as adults we do a lot of finger-pointing and give a lot of chores and we don't really get that full instruction on how a child should go about it and why which creates a huge gap leading into a place for miscommunication.

(that’s actually the town priest, wearing his surplice)

After watching the short film "The Sweater" I would like to address the concept of a maturation plot in relation to the short film's storyline. The film portrayed the boy as one who is ungrateful with the gift he received from his mother. This is definitely a realistic possibility for children who do not get what they want. As the story progresses he becomes so concerned with what others will think about him because he did not maintain the socially accepted appearance. This is also a reality for many in society. Just when I thought he would go to church and realize that he was being ungrateful, he instead prayed for the sweater to be taken from him. He failed in his own maturation. This is why I do not see the story having any sort of maturation plot.

The boy did continuously look up to an adult figure as his idol however he did not act as an adult but rather maintained his childish ways. He did not display any sort of personal growth throughout the story but considering his age (10), this is expected.

The plotline of the story set the viewer up to think that after the boy went to church to pray for his sins, but then twisted it and didn't actually resolve the problem at hand. I thought this was interesting because most of the children's literature we have covered resulted in growing, maturing and/or learning some type of lesson throughout the story. I also found it interesting that throughout all of the material we have covered, the children have looked up to and admired an adult figure of some sort and aspired to be like them (coming of age/growing into an adult) and this still reigns true for this story as well (a common theme throughout each reading).

I think the short film was good and the accent was a little hard to understand in the beginning. It seems to me like someone walking into a high school, wearing a rivals team jersey then being shunned. There is a lesson in it and I caught on. I wonder why children shun others, even if it is a rival. Everyone should still talk to you, because it is your preference on what you like. No one should discourage you from something you love.

In this story, the children all wanted to be someone else. Often times children want to be someone famous and well known. This is what the children do in this story. They are looking for a form of identity that all children look for. They never understand that they are all different and that even though they can all be the same person their is nothing wrong with being different. Children look for identity and when they find it, they cling to it. This is what the main character did. The adults in the story have a form of identity but they are not fully aware of it yet. Some laugh at the child for his reaction to the sweater. It shows that even when you become an adult, you still struggle with identity. The lesson in the story at first seems to be don't be different and that children often struggle in accepting that they will grow and change. The reader would learn the lesson of how people will always try to be like others and society often ridicules people for this, but also ridicules them for being different.

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