#never understood the mourning aspect of not being able to have kids

[yusukenui]

timeline rly said mdzs a/b/* thread fic and i kept reading at 5 am 😐👍🤞

[reidyoulikeabook]

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 149

So, I was super busy on my normal queueing day and wasn’t able to set this up. And by ‘super busy’ I mean ‘doing laundry, weeding flower beds, and taking several naps’, bc I have upwards of 24 niblings and a super-full time job that make me exhausted.

I’m not kidding, I recently told @baelpenrose “I had a birthday party to go to, yes it’s the third Saturday in a row, don’t worry about keeping track because there are SO MANY”. 

What doesn’t make me exhausted? Y’all. The likes, the comments, the reblogs, the ‘hey, this person reads my stuff AND Bael’s stuff’ ( @feral-possums-in-the-bog, @drbibliophile, looking at you in a very loving way). Also the speedrunners... all of you who have ever, at any point, found this fic and decided to read every single chapter as quickly as possible ( and have or haven’t shamed me for needing to update the masterpost or page links), you keep me going like nothing else. I, too, like a good binge read, so I know I’ve done something worth... something... when someone else binges like that.

“So the Ark is semi-organic?” I glanced over and resisted the urge to trail my fingers along the walls of the corridor.

“That would be the closest Terran approximation, yes,” they confirmed. “It is not sentient in any form, but all exposed surfaces, for example, are grown in-place of a material native to our home planet.”

“So cool,” I whispered. “Is there a benefit to that, aside from being more sustainable?”

Noah rubbed two liw alongside their sensory organs, and let out a soft buzz - essentially rubbing their face with a sigh. “It is very rare for any species that achieves sentience to reach a level of technology that allows for faster than light travel without what you refer to as sustainability being included in every aspect of their culture.”

“Oh.” I felt ashamed and focused on my feet for a few steps, paying close attention to the feeling of the deck plating through my soles, any uneven textures that I came across turning into canyons of perception.

“In the case of the material coating the surfaces of the Ark,” Noah continued, clearly picking up on my discomfort, “it serves a largely hygienic function, much as Else currently provides.”

“So, that’s what Xio was referring to when she said that Hujylsogox ships largely decontaminate themselves?”

“Indeed. Where my species absorbs impurities from the air and any surfaces we come in contact with, the lining of the corridors, rooms, and vents can purify the rest within a Galactic week.” That worked out to eleven and two-third days as we currently measured them on the Ark, or fourteen and a half days on Earth. “Biofiltration is a very common way to sanitize spaces that often house multiple species to avoid destructive interactions, although the coating we use is known to be the most efficient organic solution.”

Surrendering, I ran my fingers over the wall.  Even knowing that it was grown, it still felt like sandstone under my touch. “If it is so efficient, why don’t the Ekomari use it on their ships?”

Their fingers on both vomu clacked as they tapped them together. “In absence of another organism to ingest the larger particulates, sypo is what you would consider to be too efficient.”

“Feathers clog it up?”

“Like you would not believe,” they hummed deeply - a groan, clear as day. “It actually ends up starving the sypo.”

Unbidden, my mind’s eye flashed back to the nightmares that Else had shown me early on: large flakes of the walls falling away and littering the corridor floors. “So, that was a very real thing?” There didn’t seem to be any reason to clarify, given how clearly the images had blared in my head.

“Correct. We believe that Else understood the nature of the material and was trying to show you what was happening in a way they thought you would understand.” A heavy liw gently patted my shoulder. “They meant well, even if they did not realize that it would backfire.”

I was about to ask what the Ekomari use in place of sypo as a biofilter, but my databand signaled me. Judging by the fact that it chimed, flashed, and vibrated against the bones in my wrist, this was incredibly urgent. “I’m sorry, Noah, one mom - ah, fuck…” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mentally braced myself for what I knew would be coming in the next several days.

“Wisdom, you are distressed.”

“Departmental notification from Pranav and Zach that they will be doing system security testing over the next week. Which means Derek will be doing his best to hack into our systems and take them out, while Pranav and Zach take notes of vulnerabilities and then fix them afterward.”

The face-rubbing sigh was back. “They are not including basic ship functions in this testing, correct?”

I shook my head, relieved that I could at least provide that assurance. “Negative. Only the systems that humans will be replicating on our own once we are on Von.”

“This is still terribly inconvenient. These tests increase tension across the Ark to quite difficult levels to be around.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s mostly from what happened Before, at least for the older members of the crew.  I mean, we got a Global Parliament out of it, but… there were a scary few years before we got there. And then the End happened, and the hack felt like some kind of warning looking back.”

Noah buzzed thoughtfully. “You are speaking of the gap in data we found when we were trying to download your planetary database.”

A part of me wanted to laugh at the fact that Miys continued to refer to the internet as a ‘planetary database’, but the topic was so upsetting that any kind of joy felt obscene right then. “It was… another terrorist attack, honestly.  They weren’t unusual, as terrifying as that is - I mean, you admitted yourself that not all of us were worth saving.  There was a petrochemical hack maybe five years before this one, and the attacks had been ramping up slowly even before that.  But this one.”  I shook my head trying to clear the thoughts from my head. “What we were told is that this group knew we would never take action against climate change, something about how the rich corporate would never take it seriously until they had to actually live in the nature they were destroying.”

“You are doubtful of this.” Noah’s statement was far from being a question.

Couldn’t blame him, since I didn’t believe half of what we had been told, or maybe that it was only half the story. “I wasn’t old enough to remember, but it is a recorded fact that there were actual people on Earth who had more wealth than any single country on the planet, and one was particularly known for building his fortune on the backs of employees who were worked to death or nearly to death.  It’s hard to believe that had nothing to do with it, you know.”

“If being reminded of this event causes such distress among your people, why run so many tests?”

“The hack killed people, Noah. It destroyed entire small countries, caused a lot of violence and wars. The ultra-rich may have been the targets, but the casualties were mostly people who never knew what was happening.  We want to make sure it can’t happen again.  That’s why we warn everyone what’s going on, so they know it’s not the same thing, but still do the testing.”

More clattering of vomu signaled Noah thinking again. “Your global economy depended strongly on the concept of wealth and the concept of money.  But with the current economic model you exercise, such a data security breach would not impact it.”

I shrugged. “We still worry. Not to mention the fact that, at some point, someone may try. We can try all we want to avoid the catalyst of the original events, but some of our better qualities can be just as terrible with just a twist.  Curiosity, confidence, and justice and easily turn into pride, vindictiveness, and prying. Which can lead to blackmail. And that’s just one example. Still sure we’re worth it?”

Another thoughtful buzz with some mild clicking. “I have seen your people endeavor to save a species that could have destroyed you.  I have seen you, specifically, mourn someone who deliberately attempted to end not only your life but the lives of the entire Ark.  There is much evidence to give us faith in your compassion.”

All I could do was shake my head. “I’ll try to have faith in your faith,” I murmured with a weak smile.

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[kayzume]

Pairing: Android!Tendou Satori x SicklyF!Reader

Genre: Angst-ish

TW: Character Death (non gore)

WC: 1.7k

Note: Rushed...very. This is my contribution to Haikyuu HQ server collab and my very first time joining one, so I’m uh nervous af. I hope this was sufficient enough:)). Lots of talented writers and artists are participating so make sure to check the masterlist right here

Also: Mama @prismaroyal thank you so much (T^T)..what would I do without you🥺!! @shinrurie and @yacoka thanks for hyping me😳😭

Back to Masterlist

"Is X00 ready?" your father spoke in a low voice.

He looked at you and smiled "just a little bit more my angel, dad is gonna give you the companion of a lifetime" he told you gently. 

"If I even have a lifetime dad," you told him weakly and he gave you this mourning look "y/n don't say such words!" he said to you while shaking his head. He crouched down to your level and caressed your face "I'm gonna make sure that this droid will help you recover, it's not over yet please have more faith in yourself, you'll be fine, you'll get better and-" he sighs then grasps your hands lightly "and we'll be together for a long long time."

You knew that your father was grasping on his false hopes of you getting better. If somebody looks at you in your current state they would surely figure out that your gravely ill, your skin has lost its regular healthy appearance, your eyes were sunken.Your father is a scientist, he's done a lot to help you recover. He tried inventing various ways, medicines, and such to help your gravely ill body to become healthy, but to this day, nothing. None of your father's hard work barely made an impact on you. It always ends up on him getting upset that none of them is helping until today that is.

"He's X00, he will be your companion from now on, he's modeled after caretakers and nurses I'm sure he will be a good factor for your health" your father exclaimed while smiling widely. You shift your sights from your dad to 'X00' he was tall and kind of lanky, with wild red hair and mysterious red eyes, for an android, his eyes seemed so full of life, a clear contrast from yours, which appeared lifeless even for a young girl such as yourself? he was staring at you and you felt weird, like his gaze pierced into your soul itself. Shaking the thought, you stared back at him and he blinked. Wait did he just blink? "He can- h-he blinked, at me!" you told your father incredulously, but he only laughed at your surprised reaction.

"Well of course he can, he was built to act completely human, how else would he be able to sympathize with you if he can't?" your father said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll leave you to him so you can get to know him" he continued not leaving time for you to say something. You sighed in defeat at the realization that you are now stuck with a mecha humanoid that's just standing there, staring at you silently. Your father must be kidding, how in the world are you supposed to communicate with a metal piece of junk. You were never a fan of technology in the first place, always believing they were a pain and they stole a lot of your father's time. You looked back at 'X00' he doesn't look half bad if you bypass his blood red eyes “You-" you tried starting, but then you started coughing vigorously, it was painful to say the least noticing bits of blood on your hanky, you decided speaking is not the best idea at the moment. He looked clearly worried and you averted your eyes in response, away from his face. You closed your eyes and faced the other side of the lab overlooking the garden, but when you opened your eyes he was there crouched in front of you, staring.

"What the fuck!" you exclaimed startled, a hand to your pounding heart.

Then suddenly you felt a hand to your head making its way to caress your cheek tenderly, it was him. He looked extremely gentle for someone who doesn't have a real heart, you happen to look away only to take notice of your hand now resting on his other hand, something you didn't even notice. You peeked at his face, he was sporting a sweet smile, and you feel the hotness creep all the way from your neck to your face. You lightly try to pull your hand back "Oh uhm give my hand back please" you squeaked. He let go of your hand and proceeded to the back of your wheelchair, slowly pushing your way out of the lab "D-do you have a name? b-besides from X00?" you asked dumbly. Of course, he doesn't, he was only activated today "How about I give you one?" He didn't answer, so you opted to stay quiet as well. How exactly is he supposed to help you when he doesn't even talk?!

Time passes by the two of you and he's slowly acknowledging you. It feels like you're teaching a chick how to speak, rather than him caring for you, it was the other way around. Every time you are to spend time with your mother and father, he would be taken away by your father's attendants, claiming that time with the family was for the family alone, you always missed the forlorn look painted in his eyes. The first time that it happened it took you solid 10 minutes to reassure him that you'd only be apart for a short while. You might not admit it to anyone, but being around him slowly makes you feel at ease and surprisingly you could feel more energy surging through your body. As crazy as it is his presence gave more to you than necessary, and you're loving every bit of it disregarding the fact that being with someone like him is impossible. He understood you and stood by you regardless of what is and whatnot. You were thankful for him being a shoulder to lean on and just for being your friend.

Today, you and X00 will be picking out some flowers. Your mother had said that the air outside mixed with the flowery aroma will help you breathe better and upon hearing such, X00 ushers you both out immediately, you have regained your footing all thanks to X00. Though he barely speaks he always makes your day by humming a specific tune, It was your inspiration to be able to walk again, to be able to dance along with his beautiful music. You knew in the short time that you were together that something changed, you weren't able to pinpoint what it was exactly, but it's definitely there looming over you.

Some things were starting to feel different, the innocent looks turned to something more when it's just the two of you, for you at least. You try to brush off the feelings evidently growing on you as time passes by, you always have to remind yourself "y/n he's a metal junk, he doesn't do feelings" after you're mini realization you fought back the forthcoming tears, but to no avail. You looked up at the sky, asking whoever was up there in heaven, "why me, why us?"

"I" he started, making you look at him "Hmm?" You urged him to continue

"I want...I want a name" he said. The gesture stirred something heart-warming in your chest, but before you could even give him a response, you felt a sudden chill in your back and slowly you feel your world begin growing dark.

Murmurs, murmurs, and more murmurs. You can hear voices but all words seem to be incoherent.

"How is she?" a voice you recognized as your mother's, you can already imagine her pacing around the room by the sound of her concerned voice. She was the type to fret over everything.

"It's not looking good" you presume was your father's, as he gave an exasperated sigh. You thought why was everyone so gloomy? what is happening?

You slowly opened your eyes to the blinding white lights "ugh" you let out in pain. Why does everything hurt? What is with all these tubes and wires stuck on you? You know what was going on. Deep down you knew, but you decidedly keep on rejecting the idea of you passing. You thought if you leave now, how is he gonna keep going, and for what? The thought of him made you snap. 

"WHERE IS HE?!" you screamed startling your parents.

"y/n calm down, sweetie," your mother said while rubbing your back to calm you down "stressing will only make things worse, hmm" as if on cue you felt a sharp pang course through your body "Argh!" you yelped in pain, "hah..hah...hah" you started breathing heavily, the pain is starting to become unbearable, "Mom it hurts...so much" you clung to her as if it will make things any better. Your face is scrunching in pain, tears are starting to sting your eyes. Your mother was cradling you in her arms, you can feel her shaking. She was crying silently and it makes things extra clear for you, This is the end.

You calmed yourself down and pulled away from your mother. You looked her in the eyes and stated "I want to see him, mom, for the last time, please" you pleaded with her. She kissed your forehead and gave you a comforting hug. You both knew that this meant goodbye and it was hard to let go. Your father couldn't stand to look at you so helplessly that he decided to leave without saying goodbye. It was for the best you thought. The door screeched open, he stood before you. He looks forlorn as if something was taken away from him. "Come" you signaled him to come closer, he scooted next to you. You caressed his face, memorizing every inch, "I- I want you to remember that even though it was only a  short period of time that I was with you, I have loved every single aspect there is about you. I remembered you stating that you wanted a name, hmm, your name shall be Tendou because you were heaven's grace to me" you whispered. "You may not be able to feel love, but remember that this heart has only beaten for you." you continued leaning close to put his hands near your heart, with a longing look you placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

You gave him one last smile, "Farewell, Tendou"

Tendou cradled your lifeless body against his, berating himself over not being able to shed a tear. Deep inside him he was praying, “In our next life we’ll be together, I promise” feeling the heaviness in his heart “I loved you too”

[gayboiconfused]

As a kid, I never understood why someone would be sad about someone dying. When one of my friends would have a death in the family, I didn't understand why they were sad, and it'd always feel awkward. I always thought, 'it happened, life goes on, no big deal.' And I thought that for the longest time.

Lately though, I've had more time. Time when I have nothing to do, wich eventually gets boring. Nobody to talk to, nothing to keep me occupied. And what happens then, is thinking. I start to think about things, even if they seem insignificant. I'll have a thought, wich suddenly leads up to another one, and so on. Sometimes, my mind will drift off to things I'd rather not think about. Embarrassing memories, passed mistakes...

At some point, I started thinking about death. I thought back to all those times that I was so confused about the aspect of grief, of mourning a loved ones passing, and then I thought, "what would my life be after losing one of the people I care about?" That's when something hit me. It's not just about the physical loss of a loved one, but also the emotional loss. I imagined what my life would be like without my dad, one of the people I love most in the world. If he died, I'd never be able to talk to him again, I'd never be able to laugh with him again, and never be able to see him or have the familiar feeling of him being around ever again, and that scared me. It scared me, to imagine how empty everything would feel, and and how much would genuinely be gone forever.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

03. Strengths and Weaknesses

Previous: Write Whatever You Want

Another person shouldn’t have the power to be able to control every aspect of your life. In fact, some power and responsibility granted to someone else in your life should be a sign of trust and appreciation, not force or obligation…

Grace collected all of the self help and self love books she could from the mall bookstore. It was a section that they rarely went to, the bookstore, a place that they never defiled. She glanced at the sci-fi and fantasy sections… they weren’t empty, but Simon had taken a lot of those to his personal quarters. 

She realized that Simon would always occupy some space in her heart and in her mind, but the fact that he could still occupy space in her life was troubling her. She just wanted to get over him and what he’d done… But that would also come with having to face what he did, to look at it all and really think about it. That could destroy every semblance of dignity that she believed their friendship was based on. That could rob her of even the fond memories that she knew would never return.

But, she saw his absence in the book store, where all the spaces were in that section, where all of the journals from the journal rack were all but gone, where the section that had fanfare like models of famous spaceships or bobble heads from certain fandoms had spaces (which very well could have been taken by any number of the kids in the Mall Car, but she thought of Simon and his fanboy things. She thought of his passion for writing and his knack for constructing figures. She thought about the times when she would be reading a book and came to him and wondered, “What’s this word mean?” and how he would either know and give her a hard time, or not know and immediately consult a nearby thesaurus or dictionary. She saw his absence everywhere.

She headed back to her quarters, glanced at the photo booth as she passed, the photos of their kiss now serving as a bookmark for her to figure out how to figure out herself. How do you not know you? You’ve literally been with you since your conception. “I was distracted. By everybody’s expectations of me and by my need to be exalted as the best. Didn’t even matter what I was the best at, as long as I was the best.”

“Looks like you win again,” she heard Simon’s voice say in a memory. She shook her head. She hadn’t won anything in a long time. Maybe she could win some peace of mind if she went through enough of these books. All quotes and motivational “insights,” health advice, and spiritual tips.

The kids were still coming to her for advice on matters. “You are actually older than I was whenever I got here,” she told Shadow. Shadow wasn’t her real name. Couldn’t have been. But, it was the name that she told Grace and Simon that she wanted to be called, and she absolutely lived up to the name, as she seemed to trace Grace’s every move, copy her style, and emulate her. It was cute, to Grace. Having a mini her. She had plenty of kids that looked up to her, even Simon did, at some point. But, now that the Apex was over, and they hadn’t quite figured out what to do next, they still turned to Grace for their step by step and day to day… several of them, anyway. Shadow, definitely.

She was one of the ones who witnessed what happened. One of the ones who endured such a terrible sight as the gruesome fate of Simon. One of the ones to not mourn him herself, but to be very sympathetic to Grace for her loss. One of the ones that she may or may not have instantly grief bonded too as they were nice to her for the first time since she messed up, in the midst of her saying goodbye to not only her first, but her oldest friend… who had become her most determined enemy… There were many mixed emotions with what happened to him, but Grace appreciated the kids that were there for her. She appreciated Shadow, she really did… But she also wanted her to give her some space. 

Grace was startled when the girl was waiting for her, for “morning yoga class,” and she didn’t regret to inform her, “It isn’t a class… It’s just me trying to start doing yoga, and you tagging along and doing what you see me doing.”

“I grabbed a yoga book from the bookstore to help me get better at my poses and teach me about meditation,” she said, not at all taking the hint that Grace wasn’t in the mood. Yoga was supposed to be some time to herself, but she also couldn’t just tell her to go away. The way that she had snapped at Simon at the cabin and the way it hurt him… the end of the beginning, she was pretty sure of it… She couldn’t risk shoving Shadow to her downfall, just because she was doing what she had been commended and appreciated for doing previously… though… before, they weren’t close. She definitely gave her more space before, but there was more structure back then, too. 

There were rules, regulations, guidelines, laws, ordinances, whatever else in the big book of the Apex. They learned what to do and they did it and to not do it meant consequences. Nothing dire in her day - maybe not being able to go on the next raid or being responsible for some chore or something. But, Grace wasn’t positive what Simon had put these kids through without her there. 

She knew that they had seemed unhappy when she next saw them, that the ones who were obediently trying to shove her off of the train and she begged for her life were just as confused as she had been when she and Simon began all of this. Confidence didn’t always mean certainty, and the guilt that she could see on those kids was as thick as the sorrow she saw whenever she returned to see Simon on her throne. 

Shadow had been watching her and wanting to be her since her first day in the Apex. Seeing somebody that looked like her in charge, commanding, and carefree… 3 fun years of duty, then one day Simon returned without her, told them that she had betrayed them all, that she was unfit to lead, threw off his hoodie and revealed the most numbers any of them had seen, even on Grace. Some of them mourned her right then and there. Simon didn’t like that. 

He explained to them that Grace was no longer like them. She no longer believed in the Apex. She no longer believed in the Conductor. She wasn’t to be mourned and she wasn’t to be missed. She was worse than a null, because they were created for worthless futures. But Grace? She had been given a chance by the Conductor. She had been given status and respect and honor, only to turn on all of their values. To call her a null would be an insult to nulls. She deserved nothing but to be blotted out, voided. 

“She’s a void. THE void. Not even human anymore. Its number is low and its spirit is lost. The void is an unfit leader, a danger to us all!” Shadow couldn’t stop crying. This still sounded very sad to her. Simon cupped her chin and said, “Don’t worry. You won’t be punished for emulating it. None of us knew, but now that we know what the void is, we know what the Apex will do, what we MUST do.” He dropped his hand and smirked. “If it ever infiltrates the car again, we wheel it.” 

The children all gasped. “You’re… you’re talking about Grace…” Lucy said.

“IT IS THE VOID!” He roared. Lucy and Todd both jumped and clutched each other. Simon pointed to Shadow, “Bring me the procedures. We have to quickly establish who is faithful to the Apex, and who is faithful to the void.” He looked at Lucy.

“I am Apex!” she said. 

“And what is the void?” He asked. 

“It’s… not Grace… It looks like Grace?” She felt ashamed that she was feeling sympathy for the void. Simon had just explained that it wasn’t Grace anymore. But, if it still looked like Grace, the person who had held her crying when she put her eye out with the harpoon pack while Simon tried to tend to the injury. Ultimately… she just lost the eye and it was Grace who had told her that she still was a whole person and one of her favorite kids. “That eye was important, but the most important thing is that you’re alive and safe and still one of the greatest kids here.” But… Lucy didn’t dare let Simon see her cry over Grace, not after how he had just gotten angry.

“If you see the traitor we used to know as Grace, it is now the void and only to be acknowledged as the void. What is a void, Apex?”

“A leader who is no longer fit to lead?” Lucy said, trying to fix her last mistake by mimicking what she remembered Simon saying before. 

“And a danger to us all,” he completed as Shadow returned with his book for him to write in. “Again. What is a void?”

Now, multiple kids said, more confidently, “A leader who is no longer fit to lead. A danger to us all.” He continued writing and getting them to repeat it, until he was satisfied. “And how do we deal with voids?” 

“We wheel them?” Todd asked, recalling what Simon said. 

“Again!” Simon called. 

“We wheel them! We wheel them!” Many of the children began to chant, as was their way. Shadow, Todd, Lucy, Lindsay and Alex looked at each other, Alex noticed Simon looking at them and immediately joined in. Reluctantly, Lindsay and Todd did too. 

Simon gave the signal for everyone to stop, a quick cut of his hand across his throat and they did. He put a hand on Lucy’s back and one on Shadow’s, then called five boys’ names and began to walk the girls to the door. Shadow was panicked. She didn’t know what this meant. Simon lead the six kids outside and shut the door behind them. 

In a calm voice, he asked, “What is a void, Lucy?”

“A leader who is unfit to lead. A danger to us all.”

“And how do we deal with voids?”

“We wheel them.”

“Good. So, you understood. You didn’t join the Apex when I asked.”

“It won’t happen again, Simon.”

“I have a special job for you. You’ll keep watch for the void. If it comes back, it may be injured or sick. It may try to convince you to be kind to it. Don’t be deceived, Lucy. The void is dangerous. Don’t let it near you and don’t listen to it. The Apex will back you up and we will wheel it, as a collective.” 

Lucy nodded her head, “Understood, Simon.”  He talked to the boys, too, giving them each assignments - sounding the alarm whenever the void arrived, taking the yokes to carry his throne… Shadow was more and more confused and troubled as it came down to her and Simon.

“Shadow, what is a void?” He didn’t sound as chill as he had with the others. More like cold. It sent shivers down her spine.

“A leader who is unfit to lead. A danger to us all.”

“And how do we deal with voids?” 

She sighed and put her head down, “We wheel them.” 

Simon smirked and then leaned forward to touch her shoulder. “It took you awhile today. Don’t let that happen again. I can’t leave room for another traitor. If you can’t keep your allegiance to the Apex, you will become familiar with the wheels.” He pointed towards the wheels and she gasped. “The Apex has but one leader now and if you can’t accept that, all traitors will be thrown off of the train.”

“I understand, Simon.” He put her on spotlight duty and she didn’t think that she would ever smile again. 

She had been about to throw Grace off of the train. She had been about to kill her idol… She couldn’t take it back, but she poured herself into respecting Grace again as a person. Not the void, not a traitor. But, she felt like Grace didn’t like her anymore. Like… she was tired of her. Probably angry because she was going to push her off of the train..

“Grace…” Grace let out a very frustrated groan and wiped her face with her hands. Shadow frowned and shut up. 

Grace tried to continue yoga, but the nagging that she had possibly just shut this girl down was getting to her. “What is it, Shadow?” She asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

“I just wanted to say that I didn’t just go along with it. Simon took me outside of the car. He threatened to wheel me if I didn’t agree with him about you. I was really scared that he was going to do it. I didn’t really want to kill you, even though I tried to.”

Grace sighed again, this time a little less annoyed. An understanding sigh, if that’s a thing. “I know. All of you were under pressure. I know that it was hard for all of you. Simon was sometimes hard for me too, and especially in the end. I can’t make heads or tails about how I feel about him from one day to the next. So, I understand that. But, I’m just trying to move on with my life. I just want to be able to get to the next step without harping on that,  but whenever I’m trying, someone is always there. I love your company. I just want to be able to have an hour of time where someone isn’t looking to me for anything!” Grace realized that her voice was loud. She sighed again, “I want a moment to relax. Talking about who tried to kill me and why is not relaxing for me.”

“It’s just that, I know how afraid you must have been out there with him… and I know that I helped. I know how afraid I was with him, but I still helped.”

“Are you asking for forgiveness, Shadow? Because, I thought I made it clear to all of you that I don’t blame anybody for being tricked by Simon. How can I be mad at you for following someone that I recruited you to follow? We were a team. You did exactly what we taught you to do - listen to the leader and trust their judgment. I wouldn’t fault you for that. What I am faulting you for is the fact that I haven’t been able to have one session of yoga and meditation without you all up in my aura.” They both laughed a little. 

Grace crawled over to her and wrapped an arm around her, “Seriously, you can’t just depend on me to give you what you’re looking for. You have to be able to forgive yourself for things that you don’t understand why you did. You have to be willing to ask yourself why and explain it to yourself to correct yourself. Never look to somebody else, not even me.”

Shadow smiled and said, “I just needed you to know the truth. I just needed to clear the air.”

Grace smiled, “It’s clear. It’s clean and clear and pure, okay?” Shadow smiled and then noticed her number changing. 

She looked at her hand and gasped whenever it turned into a zero. Grace looked at the door that appeared and quickly got up to help Shadow off of her mat. Shadow looked excited for a moment then frowned, “Why me? There’s other kids more deserving of their door…”

“You did all that you needed to do!” Grace cheered. “And you didn’t have to model after somebody else to do it. You just had to be clear and honest and willing to accept the truth. I’m very proud of you.” Shadow opened her door and saw her family, still putting up posters and handing out fliers, three years later. Her eyes welled with tears. She hadn’t thought that they would even miss her, but there they were, still looking…

“Grace… My name was Sunny,” Shadow said. “Is Sunny, like the song. You should listen to it. It’s perfectly fitting for you.” She went through the doorway and Grace watched it all go. She felt her own number move and she looked down. It had gone up? She sighed and flopped back down on her mat. She knew that song, but not the lyrics. Just the melody. It was back to the bookshop, she guessed. There was a little music section and she could probably find that old song in there. 

.

*Sunny plays in the background*

It was her go to yoga song, now. She kinda missed having Shadow around, despite how irritating it had been her last days there. Grace passed by Lucy and Lindsay, sitting on the floor looking at each other and giving affirmations. “

Lucy: When I look at you, I see me.

Lindsay: When I look at me, I see you…

Grace smiled, but kept going, grounding mat beneath her arm, water jug in her hand and a bag on her arm. Alex and Todd ran by her, both swerved to miss her.

Todd: By, Grace, we’re gonna go check out this go kart car that Mandy told us about!

Grace: Have fun!

Alex: We’ll bring you something back!

Grace: No need!

That kid was terrible at tributes when it was a thing. She set up her yoga space and looked at the empty place where Sunny would have been. It didn’t feel the same without the kid, but she also didn’t have that stress of her watching so intently either. She was finally able to actually relax as she went through this new little ritual. Afterwards, she did feel better. The other kids didn’t bother her the entire time, though whenever she finished, Lindsay and Lucy were there to each grab one of her hands and drag her to some place. 

It was the signature wall. Apex kids would tag their names onto it and it became a mural of sorts. Grace had seen the wall before and guessed that they were about to show her some new art or something, when she noticed that the taller kids had sprayed over the red “Down with the False Conductor” that had been sprawled across the top, with curvy block letters that read “We Made It Out.” Lucy pointed to a four picture set from the photo booth of Sunny, posing like Grace used to in the mirror, with shoulders out and lips puckered, one of her looking thoughtful, one silly face and one simply smiling. It had “Shadow” written in marker on the slit of white just before the last one. Grace told Lucy, “Gimme a marker.” Lucy still had it and handed it over. Grace drew a line through Shadow and above it wrote “Sunny.” She and the girls smiled at each other. 

“It’s a new tradition,” Lucy said. “We came up with it ourselves, without asking you.”

“I love it… Do… we have pictures from the photo booth of everybody?”

“Yep. They were in Simon’s ledger.” Lucy reached into her fanny pack to pull out hers, “We took them for his records. Our skills and weaknesses are on the backs. But me and Lindsay decided to use them for good stuff.” She showed Grace her own photo set, in which she still had two good eyes and flipped it over where she had a list of strengths and under weaknesses: Literally put her own eye out. Grace growled. “My sentiment exactly,” Lucy said.

“Look at you, Luce! If this place was going to continue, you’d be running the joint next.”

Lucy took Lindsay’s hand and pulled her forward. “Didn’t do it on my own.”

“And Lindsay. You’ve always been the silent but strong type.” Lindsay shrugged her shoulders and made an uh uh sound. Then she and Lucy exchanged looks.  “What?”

“Well… We know that you’re probably gonna be the last one out, but just in case… There’s no photos of you. We want you on the wall one day too. But, Simon destroyed all of your pictures when he voided you. Can you take a set, and put it on the wall whenever your number drops?” 

What if she was nowhere near the wall when she reached zero? What if she never reached zero? “I’ll try,” she said. 

They dragged her to the photo booth to take her pictures and the first one was a big, fake smile, the second was a slightly faded one, the third a frown and the last she was starting to cry. She snatched it from the slit and sat down. “Maybe I’ll try another day.”

Lindsay took the photos and the magic from Grace and began to write on the back.

Strengths: Takes responsibility for her mistakes. Good feelings. Big heart. Leadership skills. Makes people happy...Grace was sniffling as she read along with Lindsay writing. She was scared to get to the weaknesses, but Lindsay capped the marker instead of writing any. “What, no weaknesses?”

“Plenty. But, that’s because you’re human and not an asset, like Simon saw us as.” She and Lucy fist bumped, and Lucy handed Grace the photos. “We’re gonna go check out that go kart car too, actually.”

“We won’t bother to bring you anything back.”

“Good!” Grace said. She looked at the photos and sighed, got back into the booth, wiping her eyes. The first one, she still looked sad, the next she tried to fix her expression, the third a smile started and the last, she had a bright smile with slightly damp eyes. She pulled them out. “I’ll get there. I’ll make it out.”

[serialreblogger]

You want to talk more about the bigotry in Harry Potter? Go ahead! I've actually heard stuff like that before, but have yet to do much research on it personally and it's been a while since I read it, so I'm interested.

WELL

Before we begin I should start with a disclaimer: this analysis will be dedicated to examining as many bigoted aspects of Harry Potter’s writing as I can think of, so--while I personally am more or less comfortable balancing critical evaluation with enjoyment of a piece, and strongly advocate developing your own abilities to do the same--I know not everyone is comfortable reading/enjoying a story once they realize its flaws, and again, while I think it’s very important to acknowledge the flaws in culturally impactful stories like Harry Potter, I also know for some people the series is really really important for personal reasons and whatnot. 

So! If you’re one of those people, and you have trouble balancing critical engagement with enjoyment, please feel free to skip this analysis (at least for the time being). Self-care is important, and it’s okay to find your own balance between educating yourself and protecting yourself.

On another note, this is gonna be limited strictly to morally squicky things to do with Rowling’s writing and the narrative itself. Bad stuff characters do won’t be talked about unless it’s affirmed by the narrative (held up as morally justified), and plot holes, unrealistic social structures, etc. will not be addressed (it is, after all, a kid’s series, especially in the first few books. Quidditch doesn’t have to make sense). This is strictly about how Rowling’s personal biases and bigotry impacted the story and writing of Harry Potter.

Sketch Thing #1: Quirrell! I don’t see a lot of people talking about Quirrell and racism, but I feel like it’s a definite thing? Quirinus Quirrell is a white man who wears a turban, gifted to him by an “African prince” (what country? where? I couldn’t find a plausible specific when I was researching it for a fic. If there’s a country which has current/recent royalty that might benevolently interact with someone, and also a current/recent culture where turbans of the appropriate style are common, I couldn’t find it). Of course, it wasn’t actually given to him by an African prince in canon, but it’s still an unfortunate explanation.

More importantly, ALL the latent Islamophobia/xenophobia in the significance of the turban. Like, look at it.

“Man wears turban, smells like weird spices, turns out to be concealing an evil second face under the turban” really sounds like something A Bit Not Good, you know? If you wanted to stoke the flames of fear about foreignness, it would be hard to do it better than to tell children about a strange man who’s hiding something horrible underneath a turban.

Also, Quirrell’s stutter being faked to make you think he was trustworthy is a very ableist trope, and an unfortunately common one. “Disability isn’t actually real, just a trick to make you accommodate and trust them” is not a great message, and it’s delivered way too often by mass media. (Check out season 1 of the Flash for another popular example.)

Sketch Thing #2: The goblins. Much more commonly talked about, in my experience, which is good! The more awareness we have about the messages we’re getting from our popular media, the better, in my view. 

For those who haven’t encountered this bit of analysis before: the goblins in Harry Potter reek of antisemitic stereotypes. Large ears, small eyes, crooked noses, green/gray skin, lust for money, control of the banks, and a resentful desire to overthrow the Good British Government? Very reminiscent of wwii propaganda posters, and in general the hateful rhetoric directed towards Jewish people by other European groups from time immemorial. 

I’m also extremely uncomfortable with how goblin culture is handled by Rowling in general. Like, the goblins were a people that were capable of using magic, but prohibited by the British government from owning wands. That was never addressed. They also had a different culture around ownership, which is why Griphook claimed that the sword of Gryffindor belonged rightfully to the goblins--a gift isn’t passed down to descendants upon death, but instead reverts to the maker. This cultural miscommunication is glossed over, despite the fact that it sounds like Griphook’s voicing a very real, legitimate grievance.

To be honest, apart from the antisemitism, the way Goblin culture is treated by the narrative in Harry Potter is very uncomfortably reminiscent to me of how First Nations were treated by English settlers in North America, before the genocide really got started. The Goblins even have a history of “rebellions,” which both raises the question of why another species is ruling them to begin with, and more significantly, is eerily reminiscent of the Red River Rebellion in Canada (which, for the record, wasn’t actually a rebellion--it was Metis people fighting against the Canadian government when it tried to claim the land that legally, rightfully belonged to the Metis. But that’s another story)

In sum: I Don’t Like the implications of how Rowling treats the goblins.

Sketch Thing #3: Muggles. Ok because we’re all “muggles” (presumably) and because I’m white, talking about this might rapidly degenerate into thinly-veiled “reverse racism” discourse, so please y’all correct me if I stray into that kind of colossal stupidity. However, I am not comfortable with the way non-magical humans are treated by Rowling’s narrative.

The whole premise of Harry Potter is that Evil Wizards Want To Hurt The Muggles, right? Except that it’s not. Voldemort’s goal is to subjugate the inferior humans, rule over non-magical people as the rightful overlords, but that’s hardly mentioned by the narrative. Instead, it focuses on the (also egregious and uncomfortably metaphorical) “blood purism” of wizarding culture, and how wizards would be persecuted for their heritage.

But muggles, actual muggles, are arguably the ones who stand to lose the most to Voldemort, and they’re never notified of their danger. We, the muggles reading it, don’t even really register that we’re the collateral damage in this narrative. Because throughout the series, muggles are set up as laughingstocks. Even the kindest, most muggle-friendly wizards are more obsessed with non-magical people as a curiosity than actually able to relate to them as people. 

I dunno, friends, I’m just uncomfortable with the level of dehumanization that’s assigned to non-magical humans. (Like, there’s not even a non-offensive term for them in canon. There’s “muggle,” which is humorously indulgent at best and actively insulting at worst, and there’s “squib,” which is literally the word for a firework that fails to spark.) It’s not like “muggles” are actually a real people group that can be oppressed, and like I said this kind of analysis sounds a bit like the whining of “reverse racism” advocates where the powerful majority complains about being insulted, but... it kind of also reeks of ableism. People that are not able to do a certain cool, useful thing (use magic) are inherently inferior, funny at best and disposable at worst. They suffer and die every day from things that can easily be cured with magic, but magic-users don’t bother to help them, and even when they’re actively attacked the tragedy of hundreds dying is barely mourned by the narrative. 

It gives me bad vibes. I don’t Love It. It sounds uncomfortably like Rowling’s saying “people that are unable to access this common skill are inherently inferior,” and that really does sound like ableism to me. 

Either way, there’s something icky about consigning an entire group of people to the role of “funny clumsy stupid,” regardless of any real-world connections there may or may not be to that people group. Don’t teach children that a single genetic characteristic can impact someone’s personhood, or make them inherently less worthy of being taken seriously. Just, like... don’t do that.

Sketch Thing #4: The house elves. Everyone knows about the house elves, I think. The implications of “they’re slaves but they like it” and the only person who sees it as an issue having her campaign turned into a joke by the narrative (“S.P.E.W.”? Really? It might as well stand for “Stupidly Pleading for Expendable Workers”) are pretty clear.

Sketch Thing #5: Azkaban. Are we gonna talk about how wizarding prison involves literal psychological torture, to the point where prisoners (who are at least sometimes there wrongly, hence the plot of book 3) almost universally go “insane”? This is sort of touched on by the narrative--“dementors are bad and we shouldn’t be using them” was a strongly delivered message, but it was less “because torturing people, even bad people, is not a great policy” and more “because dementors are by their natures monstrous and impossible to fully control.” 

“This humanoid species is monstrous and impossible to control” is, once again, a very concerning message to deliver, and it doesn’t actually address the real issue of “prison torture is bad, actually.” Please, let’s not normalize the idea that prison is inherently horrific. Of course, prison as it exists in North America and Britain is, indeed, inherently horrific and often involves torture (solitary confinement, anyone?), but like--that’s a bad thing, y’all, it’s deeply dysfunctional and fundamentally unjust. Don’t normalize it.

Sketch Thing #6: Werewolves. Because Rowling explicitly stated that lycanthropy in her series is a metaphor for “blood-borne diseases like HIV/AIDS”. The linked article says it better than I could:

Rowling lumps HIV and AIDS in with other blood-borne illnesses, which ignores their uniquely devastating history. And Lupin’s story is by no stretch a thorough or helpful examination of the illness. Nor is its translation as an allegory easily understood, beyond the serious stigma that Rowling mentioned.

That Lupin is a danger to others could not more clearly support an attitude of justifiable fear toward him, one that is an abject disservice to those actually struggling with a disease that does not make them feral with rage.

This definitely ties into homophobia, given how deeply the queer community has been affected by HIV/AIDS. Saying a character with a condition that makes him an active threat to those around him is “a metaphor for AIDS” is deeply, deeply distressing, both for its implications about queer people and their safety for the general population, and for the way it specifically perpetuates the false belief that having HIV/AIDS makes a person dangerous.

Sketch Thing #7: Blood Ties. This isn’t, like, inherently sketch, but (especially for those of us with complicated relationships to our birth families) it can rub a lot of people the wrong way. Rowling talks a big talk about the folly of “blood purism,” but she also upholds the idea that blood and blood relations are magically significant. 

Personally, I’m very uncomfortable with the fact that Harry was left with an abusive family for his entire childhood, and it was justified because they were his “blood relatives.” I’ve had this argument with ultra-conservative family friends who genuinely believe it’s a parent’s right to abuse their child, and while I don’t think that’s what Rowling is saying, I do feel uncomfortable with the degree of importance she places on blood family. I’m uncomfortable with the narrative’s confirmation that it is acceptable (even necessary) to compromise on boundaries and allow the continuation of abuse because “it’s better for a child to be raised by their Real Family” than it is to risk them to the care of an unrelated parent.

Genetic relations aren’t half as important as Rowling tells us. For people with a bad birth family, this can be a damaging message to internalize, so I’ll reiterate: it’s a pretty thought, the love in blood, but it’s ultimately false. The family you build is more real, more powerful and more valid than any family you were assigned to by an accident of genes.

I can think of one or two more things, but they’re all a lot more debatable than what I have here--as it is, you might not agree with everything I’ve said. That’s cool! I’m certainly not trying to start a fight. We all have the right to read and interpret things for ourselves, and to disagree with each other. And again, I’m not trying to ruin Harry Potter. It’s honestly, as a series, not worse in terms of latent bigotry than most other books of its time, and better than many. It’s just more popular, with a much bigger impact and many more people analyzing it. I do think it’s important to critically evaluate the media that shapes one’s culture, and to acknowledge its shortcomings (and the ways it can be genuinely harmful to people, especially when it’s as culturally powerful as Harry Potter). But that doesn’t mean you can’t or shouldn’t enjoy it for what it was meant to be: a fun, creative, engaging story, with amazing characters, complex plots, heroism and inspiration for more than one generation of people. 

Enjoy Harry Potter. It is, in my opinion, a good series, worth reading and re-reading for enjoyment, even for nourishment. It’s also flawed. These things can both be true.

[love-takes-work]

The Tale of Steven - Outline & Review

The Tale of Steven is a wonderful, timeless-feeling storybook about identity, authority, and finding your own way. It's got an innovative design that requires the reader to turn the book upside-down, sideways, and right-side-up to get the whole story, sometimes all on the same spread of art and text, and as we come to find out ultimately, this "tale of Steven" really is STEVEN'S story.

We begin with White Diamond, matriarch of the Gem homeworld, setting the stage--and not only does she frame the other Diamonds uncharitably (especially the littlest Diamond, Pink), she even sets the tone by admonishing THE READER straight away, scolding us to turn the book her way to read her words. (We must turn the book upside-down to read her perspective. Very nice.)

As we listen to White Diamond tell us how ridiculous Pink Diamond is and frame her as "impossible to understand," we also see exactly why Pink felt driven to leave her home. White apparently appointed herself the authority on keeping Pink in her place, and we're treated to White's huge pale hands holding little Pink Diamond in her tiny pink throne, “right”-side-up. White's perspective is proper, and she is to be praised, you see, for understanding that Pink's desires and attributes are not worthwhile and need to be forced out of her. Pink is shown as having run away to Earth and reinventing herself as a new Gem: Rose Quartz. Suddenly, we are able to turn the book sideways and see what she's thinking too. (White does NOT approve.)

The Earth, where Rose Quartz is allowed to love herself and love her surroundings, is simultaneously called "grotesque" by White, and we're seeing the same planet through two sets of eyes. White sees Rose as "stubborn" and "absurd," while Rose just gives us an aside about not listening to White if we don't want to and giving us a choice to read the book her way. As Rose continues to depict rainbows and falling in love with a human--Greg Universe--White is getting angrier. She shrieks, "You're ruining my story!" Rose, rightly, replies, "This isn't your story."

Soon, Rose has bequeathed her Gem--the center of her being--to her half-human son, Steven, with the consequence of ceasing to be herself. Baby Steven appears with his father and Rose Quartz's three companions--Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl. White Diamond finally abandons trying to narrate this story, escaping with a vindictive comment and an attempt to frame Rose as simply Pink Diamond hiding "inside an unwitting creature." Rose's perspective expresses that she wanted her son to experience the love and acceptance she never received. And then, Steven's perspective pops onto the scene. We can now turn the book fully right-side-up to read his tale.

As the story slides fully into Steven's perspective, Rose's hopes for him still line up on the sides of the pages, longing for him to experience kindness, to never know the awfulness she went through on Homeworld, to never have to feel the criticism issued by the other Diamonds, and to be able to tell his own story one day. Steven reflects on Rose's influence on his life, how he's heard about her and the more truth he's discovered the more everything frightens him. There are many perspectives, he recognizes. Perhaps there is more than one way to read the story.

White's perspective, upside-down now, returns alongside all this. She suggests "Pink" has come crawling back to turn the world the "right" way again, and she's puzzled by Steven's appearance, but she's determined to rescue Pink from herself by separating Steven from his Gem. Meanwhile, Steven's been wondering what his relationship is to Pink and Rose--is she inside him? Is he actually her? What's real?

But they all learn the truth when Steven's Gem reveals that he was also Steven inside there. All along, he was himself and no one else. This is, and has always been, his story, and he has been right about who he is.

Several wordless frames depict Steven's two aspects finding each other, reconnecting, and becoming one again. Newly confident in who he is and having asserted as much in the face of crushing authority, Steven declares, "This way feels right to me." The orientation of the book AND the definition of himself are the focus here, and for the first time, White begins to consider that her perspective was the wrong side up in someone else's story.

Steven closes by claiming the book as his own (writing his own name in the "This Book Belongs To" space, which is superimposed over a Diamond Authority symbol with the Pink Diamond on top instead of on the bottom). The end dedication is made out "To Trans & Gender-Expansive Kids."

To reflect on this sentiment and the rest of the book, I will say that a large portion of the Steven Universe fandom already recognized some threads of a trans allegory in the animation this is based on. Steven, though he is not specifically depicted as a confirmed trans character in the show, does not demonstrate or seem to experience toxic masculinity in association with his quest to be powerful, and has no qualms about using symbolism, iconography, and apparel that is more commonly associated in today's Western society with women and girls (e.g., the color pink, flower symbolism, protective and defensive rather than aggressive and offensive behaviors, wearing jewelry and dresses occasionally without it being a gag). His assertion that he is Steven and not Pink Diamond or Rose Quartz has many parallels with a common trans narrative--including pronouns that the Diamonds refused to respect--even though it is also its own thing since human beings do not have to defend that they are not literally their mother. 

They do, however, frequently struggle with authorities in their lives "correcting" them on who and what they are "for their own good," brushing off the seriousness of the misery it causes, and these children do find themselves forced to wear clothes, use names, and adhere to roles that do not match who they are. They even sometimes hear authorities mourn the "loss" of a different-gender version of them and accuse the child of being selfish for wanting to manifest their truth instead of being the son or daughter the parent thought they had.

It is my deepest hope that authorities like this can learn to turn the book around.

It is so important for children to learn that they ARE the authority on their identity, and while some well-meaning authorities in their lives may frame their identity as a phase or a fake, they do not have to accept this view of the world, or even that it comes from a loving place. White Diamond did not sound like a stern but caring figure to me. She sounded like a tyrant who is convinced of her own correctness, determined to gaslight and shame Pink Diamond into becoming the person SHE wanted. Love is listening. Love is nurturing. Love is seeing pleasure and pain and letting those things guide you in supporting a happy existence. Kids whose gender is complicated and young people who develop misunderstood identities need books like this to center them in their own stories and empower them to show others how to read their book.

Except for the section of the book where Steven's organic self and Gem self are separated and re-combine, the message is solid for readers who have not watched the show. But because of how important that wordless series of panels is and how much background you actually have to have to understand what's happening there, I recommend this book primarily for fans of the show who have seen "Change Your Mind" and the episodes that support it. The other depictions are more powerful and illuminating for those who have context from the show also, but the main purpose of the book can be readily understood without that background. 

If you haven't seen the show, all you need to know is that Steven is a hybrid Gem/human who has a gemstone in his human body, and it gives him superhuman powers. Gem characters generate a body from their Gem, while Steven's body is organic and presumably NOT generated from the Gem. White Diamond removed Steven's Gem from his belly, expecting Pink Diamond to take form out of the Gem. She thought his organic half was just a human that the Gem was stuck in. But instead, a Pink Steven emerged and went back to his organic self to merge again, proving that he is Steven, not someone else, through and through. And he truly loves and knows himself.

A couple other notes fans of the show might enjoy: White Diamond's hypothesis that Pink Diamond was "hiding in an unwitting creature" is really interesting--she knew what Steven was but believed he was just a normal human hosting a Gem. Interesting. White's disdain toward Yellow and Blue for "spoiling" Pink is an interesting addition to what we know about her, too. Pink is pictured standing on her hands on her throne, upside-down, which is interesting since it's both "silly" and an expression of her right-side-up perspective (since, when we obey White, we're reading the book upside-down!). White's commentary that she kept Pink in line is also interesting, considering we've seen way more of how Yellow and Blue treated her and none of that was very nice either (yet they're the "nice" ones in this story, indulging her even though we know they abused her). There's a really cute image of Rose lounging on the beach with Greg in what looks like a swimsuit. Connie is in a frame with the Gems looking through a telescope. And there's a frame with Garnet holding pink and blue butterflies.

Inventive, beautiful, moving, and so necessary. Buy a copy. Let kids turn the book around.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Kaylin! You’ve been accepted to play Avery Mercer. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: Wow. You’re a flawless writer! I enjoyed reading every part of this audition. You have such a clear grasp on Avery, and it really shines in the way that you write her. I’m so excited to have you in the group - welcome! - Admin V

IC INFORMATION:

Character Desired:

Avery Mercer

Describe the character in your own words:

Avery is devastatingly complex. Whereas it’s often difficult to believe someone can change so drastically from a brat of a party girl to a person who leads a quiet life, that’s not the case with Avery. Her transformation is so incredibly believable. Having one parent kill the other is traumatic. Knowing that same parent had every intent on coming for you next is beyond that. And though Avery’s trying to put her past behind her, that’s clearly something that stays with her. Because of this, I’d say she’s hesitant to trust people or let them in. Who can blame her considering her father, a man who’s supposed to love and protect her unconditionally, is the one who caused her greatest pain?

And yes, Avery leads a quiet life now, but there’s still a small aspect of her that misses the high life she once lived. Why else would she involve herself with the likes of the Sinclairs, especially as something so seemingly glamorous as being a burlesque dancer? Not to mention she’s the best burlesque dancer at The Black Cat. That in itself comes with a few perks. Young Avery once craved attention, and who’s to say the same doesn’t apply to Avery as a grown woman? She’s able to get the validation she still craves, but she is no longer addicted to it. The attention gives her a small high, but then she’s able to leave it at the club and go back to her apartment, where she knows peace and quiet.

But it goes without saying that there in Chicago, Avery really gets her first sense of home and normalcy. Sure, it isn’t easy at first. Change rarely ever is easy. But Avery is grateful for that city, for her aunt, for the Sinclairs. They all saved her life, even if she didn’t originally see it that way. She realizes it now. Avery was angry for a long time, but now she’s too tired to be angry. She accepts her life for what it is, and it’s a life that’s entirely her own. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. Her past almost feels like another life. Almost.

Writing Sample:

           I.

Large windows took up the entire back of their Miami mansion, touching from the floor to the ceiling. Only in the day did the light beam through those very windows and the particles of dust would become visible, idly floating by. The house with its many rooms, large and excessive, felt less than home with more space than occupants. It was easy to notice things like dust particles in the air that, under normal circumstances would normally go unnoticed. And these weren’t normal circumstances. But to Avery Mercer, the house with the big windows, the foreign and imported chandelier in the grand foyer, and the square feet with a number much larger than her little brain could fathom, this was the only thing she’d ever known. It was impossible to imagine life any other way.  

This was her normal.

When she ran across the marble floors, her hair whipping behind her, no footfalls accompanied hers. The stern voice telling her to walk didn’t come from her mother or her father, but rather it was the voice of a nanny, the only thing she could clearly point out as any sort of parental figure. But still she loved her mommy and daddy very much. David Mercer was too busy building an empire for his family to pay any substantial attention to his doe eyed daughter who would grow into the spitting image of her mother. Diane Mercer spent her days shopping with other glamorous housewives she knew. Not that Avery ever minded. She loved her parents very much, and she knew they loved her too. They’d make up for frequent absences with gifts with the hopes they’d fill the void. In most ways, it did.

Love was a dollar amount. That was how little Avery came to see it, therefore there was nothing a gift couldn’t fix. Before she knew it, the empty, lonely corners of the Miami mansion became filled with stuff, her stuff, just enough to keep her entertained and satisfied. And when those things lost its lush, they were replaced with new, shinier things until it turned into dangerous cycle.

II.

Avery was a beautiful girl, and she knew it. She’d grown into her looks, still looking every bit of her gorgeous, model mother. She knew she was beautiful, and it showed in the way people gawked at her or the way her father’s colleagues hugged her a little too tight for a little too long and told her how grown up she’d gotten.

And grown up she was.

With barely a foot in high school, Avery had a palate for the finest of champagnes.

The cater waiters at the Mercer’s frequent house soirees knew better than to tell the youngest Mercer no, so when they waltzed around the parties with trays overflowing with bubbly, they could only watch in contempt as Avery grabbed a champagne flute for herself. But the seeming innocence of sipping champagne in the comfort of her parents’ functions turned to hard liquor with her rich kids friends, drinking whatever they could get their juvenile hands on.

She loved her friends, because they gave her the one thing she’d always been craving. They felt like home. Sneaking out, stealing cars, staying on Miami beaches until the morning sun peeked over the horizon. They were wild and reckless, the kind of kids people warned her about. They were nothing like the perfect, soulless walls of the Mercer Mansion. Forbidden fruit never tasted so sweet, and Avery devoured it until her friends’ culture and behavior became her own.

It explained why she was too hungover in her Honors Literature class, a class she had no business being in in the first place. She was no scholar, but her transcript need not show it if she was going to apply to and get into an Ivy League university in the years to come. It explained why when the wheels of the Mercer’s private plane would touch down again in America after another quick, lavish, ultimatum of a trip to Europe, Avery would find herself sitting in the company of another therapist whose name she didn’t know or cared to know. As the person sitting across from her tried to psychoanalyze her, Avery would only smile with a mischievous glint. It would only be a matter of time before that therapist would get tired of her difficult ways. It explained why she would get angry and throw things, expensive things, and yell, and slam the door in the face of her mother.

Her mother.

The only source of light came creeping up from underneath the closet door. Avery sat in the dark, alone and shell shocked, with her knees pulled up to her chest. It was quiet there, with the exception of her hollowed, shaking breath. She felt a terror so deeply rooted inside of her that the fear itself restricted her lungs and made it hard to breathe. And for the first time in her life, Avery Mercer’s life was at a standstill.

She waited. Waited to live. Waited to die. It felt as if she’d been waiting for an eternity, not certain if it had been two minutes or two days. Months shy of her eighteenth birthday, she finally felt how young she truly was. She had so many more decades and lives left to live, but it took the firing of a gun for her to see it. Avery Mercer didn’t want to die, but it’s not like she really had the choice. So she held herself and cried as softly as she could, mourning the loss of everything she’d never be. She mumbled something like a prayer to herself, and she waited.

When the closet door opened, Avery ducked her head and raised her hands high, defenseless to what was coming.

“Please don’t kill me,” She begged, flinching with her eyes shut tight. This was it.

But as the officers escorted her out of her home, past the pool of blood and her mothers legs, motionless and lifeless, poking out from behind a wall, past her father sitting in the back of the police car, Avery realized as she looked back to her beautiful home that it would be the last time she’d see the large windows she loved so much.

III.

Make believe. That’s all it was. But wasn’t it so nice sometimes to pretend?

The pearls draped around her neck, the lingerie clinging to her skin, the silk robe hanging off of her shoulders, none of it belonged to her. It all belonged to a character she created long ago.

The Avery looking back at her in the vanity mirror was an Avery she built from scratch. This Avery was Chicago, through and through. She was a workingwoman who understood the power of a dollar. She was in love with who she’d become.

The jazz music flooded into her dressing room, muffled by the four walls cornering her. It was just another day at the Black Cat, and Avery was busy trying to clear her mind before delivering the grand finale of performances later in the evening. Normally, she’d walk around the venue and bat her pretty eyes, or she’d entertain patrons at the bar before disappearing and reappearing front and center stage. But right now, she reveled in the peace and near quiet.

Avery sighed and leaned up in her chair, reaching for a picture she had resting against the mirror. She ran her fingers gingerly against the old photograph, a soft smile touching her still gorgeous features. She was so young then. Couldn’t have been any older than nineteen. She stood with her arms around her Aunt Stephanie out in front of the small house they shared on the outskirts of Chicago. They couldn’t look any happier. Avery couldn’t have been any happier.

She hadn’t talked to Aunt Stephanie this week, so she made a mental reminder to give her a call in the morning when Avery’s shift at the Black Cat was long behind her and the new quiet world she built for herself would return to normal.

But for the time being, she was there, at work. And as she applied her signature, red lipstick, it wouldn’t be much longer until she’d hit the stage, until she captivated the attentions and hearts of her audience as she stripped, artfully losing one article of clothing at a time. And in no time, she’d be able to return to her quiet Chicago apartment in her otherwise quiet life.

But the Sinclairs were the company she kept, and Avery was smart enough to know that quiet would only last so long before its stillness rippled.

In the meantime, all she could do was wait.

[go-diane-winchester]

New question:  Why do I dislike Misha and his fans?

@super-who-loser asked the following question:

Hey, I’m not trying to come across as rude or anything I’m just wondering why you dislike Misha so much? I know Jared and Jensen have been there since the beginning and yes, there have been times where his character has been pretty useless but I don’t hate him and you’re being really mean to some Destiel shippers and like I know that it’s obviously never going to happen and Cockles is a big no no for me but I am confused about why you really don’t like him? I’m honestly just curious

Thank you for the question.  Let me point out before hand, that my irritation towards Misha has nothing to do with a ship.  I used to read destiel slash.  I used to like Cockles AU.  I don't ship wincest.  I ship AUs.  Its my favorite slash subgenre.  So no, this is not a ship argument.  Ship whatever you want, but mind your manners.  There are many things that I don't like about Misha.  However I am choosing to answer only from a SPN perspective because that is the primary way that we know him. 

MISHA AND SLASH FICTION

You may not realize this but Supernatural has been on the air for so long that it, plus its fan base, has experienced and initiated a few changes and trends.  In the space of fourteen years, filming became digitalized.  Social media, which was a fledgling thing back then, is the norm now [I have a disdain towards social media].  To put it into perspective, the child actors that played Asher, the Antichrist kid [I forget his name] and Little Lillith from the early seasons are likely in their 20s now.  Trends in entertainment changed.  Hollywood seems poised to implode upon itself, geographically, with major entertainers moving house to outlets like Netflix.  Netflix, not bound by geography, is likely to become the next Hollywood.  Slash, too, has undergone change.  And as far as SPN is concerned, that change has not been organic.  It has been by design and at the hands on Misha Collins. 

When Castiel came on board, there were already two prevalent pairings in Supernatural:  Wincest and Bobby/John.  There were other pairings.  But these were the most prevalent.   So Supernatural had slash fans already.  These fans were already aware of what slash fiction was, and they were a self-monitoring group.  They realized that the actors were aware of slash and didn't want it to be the focal point of their con appearances, because they didn't want the fans to think they were hinting at anything.  The fans understood and ever since, they have respected the actor's wishes.  When some fans liked Dean's interaction with Cas, they started shipping destiel. 

Destiel's old fans were just like all the other shippers.  They were treating destiel the way it should be treated.  Like a fantasy.  They did artwork and literature about it and kept it to themselves, as they should.  Misha never knew what slash fiction was, until he looked on Tumblr and found Destiel.  In his words, he used destiel to ''keep this gig for longer''.  He kept talking about destiel even though he was instructed not to, and pulling the LGBT into it, to make it look like destiel was about gay rights and queer art, when it isn't.  There are various kinds of destiel written by different people, from different perspectives, for different reasons.  That is true for all pairings everywhere.  By making destiel about the LGBT and waving the ''no shipping question'' rule in convention panels, he did two things. 

He turned destiel into a vehicle for LGBT activism.  Instead of being a pastime, now destiel is used to fight for LGBT representation, even though, many of the LGBT people within my own circle despise him for it.  Most of the people fighting for LGBT representation are actually quite homophobic and insulting in their thinking and logic.  And they are not even LGBT.  They are just a bunch of straight girls for whom, their fantasy has become a drug, and they wont stop until destiel becomes canon. 

He turned Jensen into the bad guy.  Misha spoke openly about slash.  Jensen chose not to.  He didn't want any part of it, and this is true about all the pairings he is a part of, not just destiel.  Because of his choice, Misha fans make negative comparisons between him and Misha, even saying that Jensen is a homophobe/biphobe because he doesn't want to talk about destiel or make it canon.  They ranted about it on social media and mass media picked up on it.  The University Of Sydney has an academic paper, under Celebrity Studies, dedicated to Jensen's supposed homophobia.  The destiel shippers are literally Jensen's reputation. 

Misha should have left slash alone.  Any fan of his will know that he overindulges the slash fans.  And the one thing that I noticed about slash fans, is that you don't give them excessive attention, or they will go completely crazy.  It doesn't matter what they slash.

Harry Styles and Liam Tomlinson learned that the hard way, because the Larry fans destroyed their friendships when they over-emphasized the fan servicing.  They did the fan servicing because Modest Management told them to, they  ended up hating their fans for what the fans became.  They have since severed ties with Modest.  Even on a day when one of them was mourning the loss of a parent, the fans who pushing the other guy so they could have a ship moment.  These two boys were very young when they entered the band.  Harry was 15 years old.  They had youthful ignorance to blame for making the decision to blindly follow the manager's instruction.  Misha cannot make any of those excuses. 

Misha got into the show at age 35.  He was already a grown man.  He was not a pivotal part of the show and therefore the only notes he was getting, was for his acting.  He wasn't being coached by anyone as to how he should engage his fans.  He was too small a fry for that.  In fact, no one was sure how long he would last on the show.  So these notes were only acting, including one telling him not to adlib his lines.  Whatever transpired between him and the destiel fans, happened because he orchestrated it. 

MISHA AND SUPERNATURAL

When Cas came on board, he was fun new character.  By the end of season 5, he had run his course on the show.  The show didn't need his character because [and as a writer I understand this] the presence of Castiel hampered the progress of the story.  Sera Gamble dealt with that frustration during her tenure as showrunner.  Cas was an angel.  If he was an ally to the boys, the boys should have a more powerful nemesis.  After all, they have an angel buddy to help them.  Unfortunately, they couldn't keep coming up with more and more powerful bad guys and negative elements, especially on a show where the biggest bad guy, the devil itself, and the worst case scenario [the apocalypse] has already been dealt with.  

During 6 and 7, they had Soulless Sam, Sam's wall, the leviathans, Metatron, the demons, Crowley, Dick Roman and even the Alphas, if I am not mistaken.  So many bad guys and bad situations, because the good guys had a powerful angel.  They could make him lose his power, so he wont be such a powerful ally.  And they did exactly that.  But Misha has very few skills to show off.  Imagine if Osric was Cas.  Even without power, he would still be able to taekwondo the stuffing out of bad guys.  He wouldn't be useless.  Cas, without his grace, didn't help the story along.  He didn't bring something extra to the story.  He was pointless.  So they made him a bad guy and for the first time in a long time, Cas was pivotal to the story.    

Eventually, she got fed up of shoehorning him into the script and just did away with the character.  But, rumor has it that Singer brought him back.  And he was welcome by the worst Q score measurement ever.  That would tell you that he was not appreciated as an actor by everyone, just his shipping and cult fans.  Since then, Cas has done nothing important in the script until recently where he made a deal for Jack.  Other than that, he has been an add on, and that is Misha's fault.  Every time Jensen and Misha did a scene, Misha would overemphasize the destiel aspect, either via social media or during his panels.  And eventually Jensen got fed up and cut the scenes short.  Basically, Misha shot himself in the foot.  The DeanCas fan service made for annoying television for people who didn't want to deal with shippy nonsense while they were watching their favorite show. 

If they didn't add anything shipping related, the hellers screamed.  If they did, the hellers screamed canon and queer baiting.  Misha's interference did that.  All he had to do was stop talking, and he couldn't do that, because his fan base will lose interest in him.  In order to keep that one group of militants, Misha isolated all other fans and potential fans. 

MISHA AND THE DESTIEL FANS

Misha's fan have sent Jensen various death threats, the receipts of which are on my blog.  A few days back, a heller was setting Jensen's picture on fire because Misha tweeted a lie that there will be a turning point for Dean and Cas in the upcoming episode.  So even though Misha was the guilty party, this psycho is punishing Jensen.  These fans have also discussed kidnapping Jared's children.  When they bully Jensen and Jared, they tag Misha in many of the tweets.  Misha randomly does Q and A sessions based on his tweets, but he has never seen a single threat and bullying remark??.....in ten years??.....really??  Nah, I am not buying that.  Frankly, I think the man just doesn't care.  Acknowledging them will mean he will have to stop them which means he will eventually have to stop peddling destiel which means he will not have an audience which means SPN will kick him right out.  The funny thing is, I think he is wrong.  He might actually have more fans if he didn't alienate them with his special brand of shippy vulgarity.  I could fill a page with all the receipts of the death threats.  And Jensen doesn't deserve that. 

I also call out destiel shippers on Tumblr so that everyone else can block the problematic ones.  Have you noticed how many names there are for the destiel pairing?  DeanCas, CasDean, DeanxCastiel and recently I discovered Dastiel.  Have you ever wondered why?  It is because they don't want you to block them.  If you filter destiel, they will use another name.  Why is that?  That is not a ship.  That's a cult.  They want to indoctrinate.  They tag destiel in other fandom names.  They are trying to create more fans for a ship.  That is why I call out specific people.  Especially the ones that tag AKF in their destiel garbage.  I have no issues with the good shippers.  I have done posts about them.  The bad ones might do something criminal one day, which is why they bother me. 

This answer, only just scratches the surface.  I am not telling you everything.  I am not telling you about Jared, Robert Berens, Kim, Briana, Travis, Sera Gamble, Ben Edlund, Ty Olsson etc.  I am just telling you the brief basics.  I hope this answers your question.  Have a nice day.  Apologies for the inevitable typos.

[yyh-revival]

Ok so about hxh I don't dislike the show it's a good show. But the reason I prefer yyh is the set up makes more sense. It makes sense for a place like the demon world to have a fucked up tournament like the black tournament. The stuff that Koenma's dad pulled to fuck over demons given the system and that kind of character. You know what doesn't make sense? Giving known assasins and psychopaths more access and power. In HxH becoming a hunter means you get access to all sorts of locations pt.1

That regular civilians dont have access to and a liscence to kill without getting into trouble and all sorts of other shit. And they give that power to Hisoka who never tries to hide the fact he just likes killing people and randomly killed one of the examiners last time. And Illumi a assasin who freely admits that he wanted the liscence for a job. He says this to the people in charge of the exam. And he still gets his liscence what the fuck. Not to mention his family the secret pt2

oldeck family who the public doesnt know their faces have a house so famous that tour guide point it out while going through the city. Like it might have unbelievable security but why would you risk people knowing? Not that it’s a bad show or I dont enjoy it. I’m not that far into the series. But things like that kinda take out of it. It kinda takes me out of it. Especially when this world isnt like this world of chaos its actually kinda like our world. Or supposed to be Pt.3

Yes, I have to confess the setting didn’t sit right with me, either. I typically enjoy fantasy (in fact it’s my #1 favorite genre, and my preferred to write in, whether that’s high fantasy like LOTR or something like Fullmetal Alchemist, or even modern fantasies like stories about vampires, etc. All of my childhood favorites have fallen into this category… aaaand still do haha)

But the setting always did feel strange to me. I never understood who or what was in control of this Hunter licence, and why they were giving them out to children, or what the point of them even was.

More under the cut. Long analysis of character, slightly more productive than what I wrote yesterday, and some more dissing of HxH (I’m sorry) and its poor management of plot, setting, and character.  Also, from now on, tagging all discussions and comparisons of HxH and YYH as HHD (for hunter hunter discussion) to keep it out of the hxh tag. 

Once again, this is all just my opinion, my personal feelings, and are not meant to grade the merit of the show or insult anyone who enjoyed it!

See, I typically also like “secret clubs.” But I like them being fleshed out. In Mass Effect, we know what a Specter is. They have almost unlimited power, but 1) they answer to a council which can strip them of this power, and 2) they have a clear goal – serving the council and the interest of the council races.

For YYH, we have the same thing. Yusuke has more power than the average human, having the authority to kill and having access to knowledge most humans do not have. But he 1) answers to Koenma, 2) has a clear goal of protecting the innocent from evil demons and other psychic phenomena. 

And that stuff is outlined the MOMENT our protagonists enter the secret club, in clear words, and it doesn’t take, you know, forever… But HxH, I have no idea what the whole Hunter organization even is? I looked it up and turns out I saw the whole 1st season, 31 episodes… and I have no idea what this hunter thing is.

So yes, I totally agree. For comparison, in YYH, we go through a rather good introduction to Spirit World all before episode 5, an intro to what Spirit Detectives are without learning all the details, but enough to understand, by what, episode 8ish? We learn how Spirit World can bend rules with Kurama and Hiei within the first few episodes, too. We learn Spirit World is a bureaucracy, that it has rulers and managers (Enma and Koenma), that it is occupied by mostly two species (ogres and Spirit World citizens, who are like spirits, neither alive nor dead), that they have prisons, that they take interest in human lives and society, that they have the power to revive the dead but that there are clear rules and procedures. We learn Spirit World citizens can inhabit human bodies made specifically for them. We learn Spirit World can unlock human’s innate spiritual awareness. We learn the Spirit Detective job is sorta a new and untested thing (sending a kid to fight 3 demons… Koenma seriously didn’t think the job through yet). We learn Spirit World houses powerful treasures like the 3 artifacts. We learn they have a freakin’ treasure room to start with. We learn you can break into Spirit World and its vaults. We learn that living creatures, even demons, can enter it. We learn spirits and living creatures can interact with each other as if both were on the same plane, tangible and all, while in Spirit World. We learn Spirit World watches and records events of interest in the Human World, sometimes flat out spying on humans like when they watch Keiko being chased or when the little girl (the investigator) stalks Keiko along with Yusuke and Botan. We learn ghosts aren’t allowed to stay forever in the human world. We learn that the spirit and the body have separate energies that converge together. We learn Spirit World uses actual technology, not just magic, like VHS types and pocket watches. We learn Spirit World citizens can live incredibly long lives and look like babies while being a couple hundred years old or more.

^^ See all that? That’s what I know about Spirit World from watching the first EIGHT episodes. Episode 9 Yusuke enters Genkai’s tournament… How insanely concise is that? Episode 8, and we know so much about just one aspect of this world.

Whereas HxH? episode 31… and I still have zero clue what hunters are, what their purpose is, what they can do, who they work for if anyone, what the qualifications for them are (just being able to fight?) We know nothing. 31 episodes!! 

For another comparison, by episode 31, Yusuke is in the Dark Tournament, fighting Chuu. By this point, we had all four main characters go through the first cycle of their character arcs, we were introduced to most of the supporting cast, we had relationships established, we got backstory on some characters, we learned how spirit energy and psychics work more, we saw Yusuke begin his second cycle, we saw the introduction of a major villain… we had a lot. Whereas with HxH, all I remember is the damn big boat in the storm thing.

Speaking of character arcs… I wrote this in a response to something else, but I think it also makes my point here. I am incredibly fascinated with character arcs and character in general, even more than plot or setting or anything else. To me, character is all. So here’s my breakdown of some character growth within the first 8 episodes.

YYH never really feels like it drags, maybe only in those moments I mentioned before. But it had an incredibly strong opening. Excluding Hiei, within the first 7-8 episodes, we have two characters (kurama and Yusuke) go through full character arcs that affect them all the way down the line of the show. The other two join after episode 25, though we also get to see glimpses of character background and some development even earlier (Kuwabara’s sensitive side is shown with the kitty, his devotion to friends, his honor code – all before episode 8 as well, but that’s not really an arc. He doesn’t have one till about the Yukina Rescue arc concludes. Though his is a bit weak, mostly because Kuwabara was… pretty alright to start with? It’s hard to develop when there isn’t many places you can go. And out of all the 4 boys, Kuwabara had the least amount of baggage.)

For Yusuke, we have the theme of “caring/not caring.” Yusuke stars off believing no one loves him and that he’s better off not being in anyone’s life. The wake proves him wrong enough that he makes an effort to come back. Then when he thinks he’s missed his chance by throwing the egg, and sees his friends and family happily talking about him returning, he mourns because he knows he’s not coming back. 180 from “meh, ima stay a ghost it’s better I’m not in their lives.” So, he goes through a complete cycle just in that moment, from I don’t care, to I do care and I’m happy, to I do care and I am sad. Not just a simple arc, from point A to point B, but A to B to C. It’s a very well constructed growth of a character. Full arch, full growth, and that’s why it tugs at the heartstrings. Because the moment he started to care… he thought lost his chance.

That arc he goes through all before episode 5 cycles throughout the show, and makes us care because such a strong arc, such an emotional one, too, grabs the viewer’s heart by the balls and refuses to let go. 

It cycles in the Suzaku fight – he experiences horrible pain to save people, but in order to really motive himself, he must see Keiko in danger. He’s getting there, to the point of caring about humanity, but not quite. Then in the Dark Tournament, the lives of multiple people hang on his victory. But they’re still mostly people he cares about, though now that has extended beyond Keiko into Shizuru, Kuwabara, Kurama, Hiei, Yukina, etc., all of those people. He’s getting there, increasing the circle of people he cares for.

It keeps going up, challenging Yusuke to care more. The hospital had Keiko and shizuru in it. But also the new psychics. Then Sensui threatening all of humanity. Then the 3 kings arc threatening all of the realms. Yusuke progressively gives more of a shit about more people with time and new challenges and as he earns more friends.

And all of that is outlined in he first Fucking 4 episodes!! We know what hsi arc is, we know where he is going, we know what sort of character he is, and we get to see him become truly fleshed out in just 4 episodes.

That’s just Yusuke, too. Kurama also has a complete arc within the span of like two or three episodes, and those themes cycle throughout the show. (guilt, suicide and redemption – think Ura Urishima fight, when Kurama projects his want to sacrifice himself for Shiori to make up for his deception, where he tells the guy that suicide has no honor or redemption in it, even though the guy didn’t care for that, his lie was about getting out of having to hurt people without causing harm to his grandmother, not about redeeming himself – family, lies, the better of two evils – to lie to shiori and stay with her so she has a son, or stop lying to her and punish self for stealing her “real son” away)

It’s consistent, mostly concise, cyclical, and oh so fucking satisfying to my literature loving senses….

And then hxh… where apparently nothing of substance happens in the first Twenty Freakin Episodes. I legit cannot tell you about any character growth in that time. Or plot? They take a test. For who knows how long. Uh… kurapika starts to like leorio when before he didn’t? So he gets friendlier?? Maybe?? Killua begins a friendship with gon instead of getting himself that therapist… they play a ball game together. That gets them to like each other so much Gon goes chasing after Killua when he goes missing at the end of the season. Uh…. they are faced with the horror of fighting people they had to cooperate with before I guess. *shrugs* 

If you put a gun against my head, the only character growth or arc I could maybe try to name for the first 30 episodes is that Kurapika started to like Leorio and starts to address him with a bit more respect, cause they worked together, so uh… nope, nope, that’s not an arc in the slightest. Kurapika can simply be a person who doesn’t like others until he gets to know them… So yes, I’d get a bullet in the head.

And the fact that you need to skip the whole beginning of the show to even enjoy it, as @perpetuallyfrowning suggested … I can’t do that. I cannot enjoy any change in Gon if I don’t know where he was before. But I hate where he was before, and we’re stuck with that for so long… Even if you didn’t like Yusuke’s personality at first, you only have to deal with it for a bit because he changes so much so quickly.

So there it is, my rather lazy analysis of the beginning of YYH and HxH, looking at setting and character.

- Mod Lola

[peadea]

From a psychological standpoint (coming from the perspective of a psychology student with almost a Bachelor’s degree), Steven Universe is all about cognition and understanding other people.  

The Gems represents a human being backwards - physically small body with a large, visually-represented mind.  

Think of the gem as a brain and think of the “light with mass” body as a mind.  

In psychology and philosophy, we spend time discussing *where* the “mind” is and *what* it is.  Is it our soul (minus a religious aspect)?  As for *where*, some in the past (such as Rene Descartes, the guy responsible for the phrase, “I think, therefore I am”) have even speculated that our minds exist in the pineal gland of the body.  It is a very powerful gland in charge of all our hormones, and hormones effect our brains and the way our daily cognitive lives function (which is a fancy way of saying, “the way our minds work every day”).  

The point being made here is that different philosophers have different views on how the body and the mind are connected.  Some believe that they are connected and cannot be separated, while others believe that they are separate but can still influence each other.  It can be a very tricky concept to understand, so think of it this way:

Steven Universe has morphed the “mind-body” problem into a new context: the body is small just like how human brains are small and we can’t see them from the outside, while the mind takes on the outside - a physical manifestation of a human body - therefore being able to project whatever identity the gem has.  If a gem feels a certain way, the physical manifestation could potentially warp as a result. 

This is fascinating because it allows for characters to be much more revealing and vulnerable by being sort of “inside-out” that way (and yes, just like the Pixar movie Inside Out where the emotions have emotions of their own).  It allows for the dynamic of the show to be all about ideal communication vs. extreme societal practicalities. That’s what makes Steven so special.

Steven himself is the bridge between the human audience, the human characters, the Crystal Gems, and the Homeworld Gems.  Rose knew how important the human psyche was because it fascinated her, but she also knew that a gem would never be able to fully comprehend how to be an ambassador to both species.  She knew creating a hybrid child (especially with someone like Greg who is a real “gem” himself in terms of effective, loving communication styles, having pretty high self esteem, and having the privilege of being a free-spirited person) would have so much compassion and understanding in their heart that they could potentially help build bridges toward better understanding for the fight for Earth; not necessarily solve massive problems, but work toward a better future for all through hard work and understanding (but also Rose just wanted the experience of being a mom and having a kid at the expense of giving up her physical form). 

That’s why the corrupted gem arc is so important as well; it illustrates humanity's need to be understood by others.  Some humans seem like monsters on the outside or inside, but if we have patience and understanding, we could begin to help heal those individuals - to eventually come to a place where they can be comfortable with themselves (like Centi). This is not to say that with this information, we now have obligations to go out and help all the random strangers we can find by being loving and kind to them.  All this means is to be aware of others and ourselves.  Caring too much can sometimes put us in danger.  We need to be careful and pick our battles wisely so we don’t get hurt, but also begin to come from a place of awareness, love, and understanding for all.

Now, the diamonds sort of represent a theory of philosophy where humans are machines.  This is extreme practicality in the sense that the diamonds believe gems are only created with inputs and therefore must only produce outputs.  However, this is where human cognition becomes complicated because there are other theories at work that don’t make sense on their own.  For instance, emotions don’t seem to follow this rule because emotions are highly illogical, but they have a great deal of influence over our behavior, so cognition can’t purely be inputs and outputs.  

The diamonds don’t know that, which is evident in the song, “What’s the Use of Feeling, Blue?”  

I believe that the dynamic between Yellow, Blue, and Pink Diamond (given the latest information about Pink) was one of forbidden love and death of a child.  Yellow is purely practical and doesn’t understand emotion, but she loves Blue and so they created a child together - Pink (but gems aren’t meant to grow, so their child would only serve an impractical purpose in the Diamond Authority, showing weakness among their people). They were just doing what they had always been doing, until they came across the Earth and it threw a monkey wrench in their whole philosophy.  Now Yellow and Blue are still mourning the loss of their child several thousand years later, but that’s not what gems are supposed to do, so they just move on and pretend like it didn’t matter when deep down, it really did. 

Right now, I’m not entirely sure where to conclude this segment I’ve written because it’s 1 in the morning, but I might come back to it at a later date and polish off a better closing statement.  Until then, I hope I provoked some interesting speculation someone else that can be applied to their life someday. 

[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #196 - The Walk (2015)

Spoilers Below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: Yes.

Was it a movie I saw since August 22nd, 2009: Yes, #382.

Format: Blu-ray

A note from the original poster:

September 11th, 2001 was a tragic event in not only American history but human history and its events still effect many. I decided to watch The Walk on September 11th because it takes something which primarily has sad memories around it (the World Trade Center) and focuses on a joyful memory instead. Philippe Petit accomplished a feat of pure joy and heart, changing what the towers were to people before they even opened. On a day like 9/11 I know I need to remember that there is good AND there is bad. The Walk is the film equivalent of a happy memory of a late loved one which is why I watch it on this day. I understand that there are those of you who just need to mourn on today and I respect that. The reason I am posting this recap today instead of tomorrow is because in case there is anyone out there like me - someone who needs a happy memory of something that ended in tragedy - they can read it today. I hope that makes sense. And to all those who are struggling with today and what it means to them, know that my thoughts are with you and that I hope you are getting through today as best as you can.

1) One of the very first things Philippe says becomes representative of the entire story.

Philippe: “I do not say this word, death…Instead I say the opposite word: life.”

This is a film about the World Trade Center, even if it’s not about 9/11. But as I mentioned in my note above it is joyful. It is not death it is life, something which permeates every scene and every decision Philippe makes. From the scene where he & Annie are playfully shaking the wire to simulate rough weather conditions, to him jumping around naked on the rooftop, all of it shows such intense LIFE and I think that is just wonderful.

2) The framing device of Philippe on top of the Statue of Liberty telling his story with New York in the background distracted me a little upon first viewing. But you quickly get used to it and I think the framing device works. Primarily because it allows the film to use Philippe’s voice at its strongest.

3) I’ve never fully understood the movie’s decision to start in black and white. The reds and blues are in color which is maybe because these are the colors which are strongest on the French and American flags? But then the color returns in Philippe’s visit to the dentist’s office and a part of me understands why (it’s here where he first learns about the Twin Towers). But also I feel that would’ve been more effective if they’d waited to bring color back into the film when Philippe actually SAW the towers as opposed to entering the dentist’s office. I just don’t fully understand it.

4) Joseph Gordon Levitt as Philippe Petit.

The majority of this film is carried on the character of Philippe and therefore the performance of whoever plays him. He narrates EVERYTHING. His voice is the voice of the film. The action is entirely motivated by his dreams, his actions. He IS the story really, meaning you had to have a strong actor play him. And Gordon-Levitt does absolutely amazingly in the part. Any sense of ego or self washes away because you don’t feel like you’re watching an actor give a performance. You feel like you’re watching Philippe. The actor is able to be incredibly optimistic, positive, occasionally stubborn/arrogant, funny, vulnerable, heartfelt, confident, and genuine in every one of these aspects. He balances the traits of Philippe perfectly which is important in a film about wire walking (see what I did there?). Balance is key. Overplay Philippe’s optimism, he’s naive. Overplay his arrogance, he’s a jerk. Overplay his humor, he’s a clown. But Gordon-Levitt doesn’t overplay any of it but balances it out absolutely perfectly.

5) According to IMDb:

Philippe Petit himself personally trained Joseph Gordon-Levitt how to walk on a tightrope. When the training started, Petit predicted that Gordon-Levitt would need no more than 8 days of training to be able to walk on a wire alone, which came true.

6) Charlotte Le Bon as Annie.

The fact that Annie is able to respect Philippe’s circle (something very important to him as performer) and his craft while also being incredibly mad at him shows an immediate understanding between the two. Le Bon is wonderfully genuine in the part, breathing similar life into Annie that Joseph Gordon Levitt breathes into Philippe. She’s wonderful, genuine, heartfelt, and feels real when the character could’ve easily devolved into a Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope. And her connection/chemistry with Gordon-Levitt is very honest. You are immediately invested in their relationship.

7) This is very telling of the way Philippe sees his art.

Philippe [about when he walks between the towers]: “My performance will not just be a show. It will be a coup.”

This could easily have come off as pretentious, like Philippe is just talking a big game. But through the writing and definitely through Gordon-Levitt’s performance the audience understands that this is honestly how Philippe sees it. He’s not just saying it to brag, to be a grand artist, he just knows that’s what he’s doing and that’s a lot of fun to watch.

8) Ben Kingsley as Papa Rudy.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben Kingsley give a bad performance in a movie. Have I seen him in bad movies? For sure, the guy’s prolific. But I’ve never seen him bad IN a movie. He always fully embraces the part that makes it feel alive and Papa Rudy is no different. But the best part about Papa Rudy is the relationship that he and Philippe have. They bicker A LOT but you come to understand that this bickering comes form a place of concern and (dare I say it?) love for each other. It becomes a wonderful father/son relationship which is one of the most important in Philippe’s life and Kingsley’s portrayal helps the audience understand why.

9) Philippe’s anger at his first failure (falling into the lake, “which is more like a swamp.”) is a wonderful flaw that I really appreciate. Philippe is a very proud person and sometimes he lets this pride get in the way of his relationships with others. But more so it motivates him and he’s able to put that pride aside when it really matters.

10) The Notre Dame wire walk.

This brief but important scene is honestly a wonderful early appetizer of the hope and satisfaction which marks this film and Philippe’s character when he goes out on the wire during the film’s climax. It doesn’t reach that same level of amazing, but few things do. More on that later.

11) I keep bringing this up, but I love that Philippe is portrayed honestly. His flaws, his pride, even his occasional wavering from the task he has set himself upon. The panic upon actually seeing how freaking tall the Twin Towers are is a very honest reaction of someone who wants to do a high wire act up on those towers.

12) The respect that this film pays to the World Trade Center is very strong. We see them as Philippe sees them: beautiful and representative of the opportunity to do something great. They are not some dark shadow that casts over the rest of the film. They’re not sad. They’re amazing and they’re real. The filmmakers put such work into reconstructing the towers for the film that you don’t even think of it as a film set. It’s their way of remembering it and I think that’s just beautiful.

13) Be honest, we all have this friend. Heck, some of us ARE this friend.

Philippe [after Jean-Louis says he’s mad]: “Yes! You love me because I am mad!”

14) Honesty is the best policy, kids.

Philippe [after a TSA agent asks him what he needs all the wiring fire]: “I am going to hang a high wire between the two towers of the World Trade Center and walk on it.”

TSA Agent [after a beat]: “Ha! Good luck!”

15) Philippe’s spy work is a wonderfully lively montage which covers what might otherwise be a very boring part of the film. He’s basically collecting data but it’s so fun we forget that’s what he’s doing.

16) Steve Valentine as Barry.

I have been a fan of Steve Valentine’s ever since I was a kid and he was in “I’m in the Band” on Disney XD. He is a wonderful character actor who is honestly pretty criminally underused in Hollywood. If you just watched this you’d have no idea he is naturally English, that his American accent isn’t real. Valentine’s part might be small compared to some of the other cast members but he uses it well and is INCREDIBLY memorable. I freaking love this guy.

17) And this is the moment you fell in love with JP, Philippe’s newest accomplice.

JP [after Philippe tries to have a private conversation with the others in French and JP responds to it in French]: “Oh you guys thought you were the only ones who spoke French in New York City.”

18) Look, I really like Ben Schwartz. And he’s very good in this film. His character just doesn’t do much. He’s more of a bump in the road (and later pain in the ass) than a developed character. He’s good in the part though, I just always want more of Ben Schwartz.

19) The pre-coup jitters EVERYONE is having is very realistic, especially Philippe’s considering the fact he’s going to be the one on the freaking high wire 110 stories high. The way he refers to the crate with the wiring as a, “coffin,” is very telling. This entire night before is when Philippe is at his shakiest. Not at his most vulnerable though. That’s when he’s on the wire.

20) I’m always surprised by how quickly this movie gets to the day of the coup. Less than half way through and they’re already sneaking around the World Trade Center. I think that’s really smart and honestly organic. It doesn’t stretch the first act longer than it has to.

21) Philippe and Jeff waiting it out.

This is a nice and organic moment to slow down the pacing of the scene, the pair waiting for a guard to leave. I’ve mentioned this before, but Tension doesn’t come from speeding up the scene as much as it does slowing it down. Jeff’s particular fear of heights is very strong here, providing a moment of character analysis for Philippe even as that fear momentarily infects him. It’s just a very nice small moment.

22) So usually when I’m posting about a film I’ll recite the line, “A coincidence that gets the character into trouble is plot.” There are a lot of coincidences and little mistakes which up the conflict and tension of the movie, except here’s the thing: The Walk is based on a real life event with a very popular documentary about it. So the stuff with the nail in Philippe’s foot, the arrow missing its mark, etcetera, that all happened. That’s not an invention. It calls to mind an observation made by Mark Twain: “Truth is stranger than fiction.”

23) A part of me wishes I had seen this film in 3D, because knowing Robert Zemeckis he probably played with the idea of depth beautifully while they’re up on the World Trade Center. But 3D costs money and I was in college at the time (I still am as I write this too, I just decided to say it in past tense).

24) The Mysterious Visitor.

It’s 2017, do we have any idea who this guy was!? Some guy randomly shows up on the tower of the World Trade Center the same day Philippe is going to do his wire walk, says nothing, and leaves. I have two theories about this:

He was a jumper who stopped when he saw other people were up there.

He’s a time traveller from the distant future who wanted to witness Philippe set up his high wire, writing himself into history.

25) I haven’t talked about it yet, but Alan Silvestri’s score for this film is absolutely beautiful. It perfectly stirs the emotion of peace and hope in the film’s audience that Philippe has when he’s on that highwire. I think the main theme for this film is one of the most underrated in movie history because it gives me goosebumps every time I listen to it. Here, have a listen.

26) The Walk.

A climax in a film is typically the moment of greatest tension, but for The Walk it is the moment of greatest euphoria. The moment of greatest joy. No film brings about such a total peace within me as this one does when Philippe takes his first steps onto the high wire accompanied by Alan Silvestri’s amazing score. The extended sequence of MULTIPLE wire walks works beautifully. Yes there are hiccups, there is conflict (a bird, the cops), but more than anything else the sequence conveys to the audience a feeling of one-hundred percent satisfaction and beautiful peace as Philippe is out on his high wire. I’ve seen this film multiple times but this scene always ALWAYS gives me goosebumps and gets me teary eyed. It is beautiful and inspiring and hopeful and just plain moving. I love it with all my heart in a way where I don’t love many films this way. I get such a fountain of euphoria bubbling up inside me and I just ride that wave until the closing credits. It’s amazing.

Philippe [after getting off his wire, to the cops]: “My name is Philippe Petit, I am a wire walker!”

27) There is a line earlier in the film from New Yorkers about how they hate the towers, how they look like giant filing cabinets. And to show you how effective a simple act of pure joy can do, I refer you to this line.

Barry: “They’re different because you walked up there. You know, every New Yorker I talk to now says they love these towers.”

28) There could not be a more perfect closing line to this film.

Philippe [about a visitor’s pass to the World Trade Center]: “And you know this pass I was given? Well, these passes they have a date on them, a date when they expire. But on my pass Mr. Tozzoli he crossed out the date and he wrote on it (small beat), “Forever.”

I have seen 507 different movies in theaters since August 22nd, 2009. I have only ever cried in the following movies (including moves before that day): Bridge to Terabithia, Room, The Imitation Game, and The Walk. I get teary in movies, sure, but the tears usually stay in my eyes. Not in The Walk though. This last line gets me every single time, even today when I watch it. And it goes back to what I wrote at the start of this recap: this movie is a joyful memory that is tied to a tragic event. It is impossible to ever talk about the World Trade Center without remembering all that was lost and all the pain of September 11th, 2001. But this film is able to respect that and still relate a tale of such sheer joy. This movie taught me that the most powerful emotion in the world is a joyful sadness. And I will always be grateful that it did.

The TL;DR version of this is basically note #28, but I’ll repeat why I love this movie anyways. The Walk is beautifully. Wonderfully acted with this incredible story about joy about something (the World Trade Center) that has become such a tragic thing in human history. It makes me cry every single time and it is absolutely one of my favorite movies ever. For those of you struggling with today who took the time to read this whole thing, I truly hope it helps. And for those of you struggling who just scrolled to the end: I hope today was as good as it can be and that tomorrow is better.

[geek-and-nina]

SuperCat Week 3: Day 7: Eyes

I have to admit that this one got a bit away from me

“Carter, in the past thirteen years, when did I give you any indication that those beautiful  big puppy dog eyes would work on me?” Cat says in her most derisive and non-plussed tone.

“It always works when Kara does it.” Carter says with an even more well-pronounced pout.

“It does not always work for her!” Cat’s eyebrows jump up into her hairline and her voice jumps up nearly an octave.

“He’s right! You’re whipped, Cat Grant!” Alex called over her shoulder as she and Maggie worked on fixing the dinner for a family meal that the Danvers-Grant family was hosting that night. Winn was going to bring his reformed con-artist girlfriend and Lena was going to bring some apparently ridiculously expensive wine that Cat had been dying to try. Lucy and James had also promised to drop in whenever they returned from Metropolis.

“I second that statement.” Maggie agreed. She offered a wooden spoon to Alex to taste test the spaghetti sauce. Alex made a pleased noise and looked adoringly at her fiancee.

Those two honestly made Cat kind of nauseous. However, she couldn’t really promise that she and Kara were ever any better. Her deep, abiding love of her girlfriend’s arms could get her in trouble sometimes. Cat and Kara had only begun to get serious recently, and Cat had moved in a month before this dinner, after Cat had consulted with Carter on how he felt about it.

“What does ‘whipped’ mean?” Carter asked. Cat immediately shot a glare that could curdle milk at Alex and Maggie, the former of whom responded with a shrug.

“It means that you’re willing to do just about anything for someone, and only because they asked… because you love them so much.” Cat chuckles lightly and scratches the back of her neck. If team Sanvers ever did something like that again, NCPD would never find the bodies.

“I must be whipped too, then.” Carter said, a slow smile forming on his face.

“Oh, fine then, thirty minutes extra and then it’s straight to be with you, even if we’re in the middle of a game. Understood?” Cat folded into Carter’s earlier request. Her boy was just too precious for his own good. “You’ve still got classes tomorrow.”

“I know, I know. I’ll have all of my homework done by the time that Kara gets home, I swear.” Carter offers his mother his pinkie with the kind of innocence that no teenage boy should have.

She accepts it with her own and they shake on it.

“You two are too adorable for this world.” Alex says and smiles affectionately at them.

“We know.” they say in sync. It sounds almost as though they had rehearsed it.

“We get that a lot actually. It’s because he’s probably about eighty percent me and twenty percent also me.” Cat snorted.

“She says that line a lot as well… like too much.” Carter teases as he drags his backpack to the coffee table. It seemed to weigh about the same amount that he did.

Maggie leaned into Alex, trust obvious in every aspect of their body language. Cat recognized the looks on their faces as they watched her interact with her son. She could already tell that they would be great parents. She was already kind of excited about it. Cat kissed Carter’s hair and looked over his homework even though it far surpassed anything that she knew.

“You know if Alex isn’t too busy cooking, maybe she could help me out with this?” Carter asked.

“I bet that you wouldn’t mind a bit, would you Agent?” Cat asked, a smirk pulling at the curve of her lips.

“God, no. I’d much rather help a teenager out with physics problems. Much more my speed.” Alex said as she ruffled his curls. “Thank you for the assist, little fella.”

“Thank God, my poor bride-to-be is a wreck in the kitchen. No wonder her dowry was so large. Could you take over, Cat?” Maggie asked, her hands never ceasing the movement of the knife she was dicing with.

“Of course I can. I might not be the best cook, but I’m a sight better than either Danvers sister.” Cat laughed at her own joke as she donned an apron.

Everyone was still hard at work when Kara came home. She was dressed in a reporter’s outfit, her glasses clearly broken in the front of her blazer pocket and she smelled strongly of soot despite the hard rains outside. Her smile when she looked over her family was forced but affectionate with more than a hint of sadness. Alex had noticed the distinctive smell as soon as her sister arrived. She knew better than to ask what had happened just yet.

“That smells heavenly, Maggie.” Kara praised, her stomach already begging for whatever was on the stove. Kara wasn’t confident that she could keep food down for the next minute, however. As Kara passed she patted Carter’s head and kissed his brow, the pained look in her eyes plain to those who knew her best. Clearly the mission she had been called away on had not gone well.

“I’m going to go wash up. You don’t need a walking ashtray at the dinner table.” Kara kissed Cat’s cheek and hugged Sanvers as she passed through towards the bedroom.

“Come and pull me out of the shower if more guests arrive.” Kara brushes though, seeming to sink inside of her own skin.

Cat, Alex, and Maggie all knew what that was. They all knew what was going on in Kara’s head and heart. Cat had never really felt what she was going through,but she knew that Maggie and Alex did. She was glad that Kara had those girls who could understand. Cat only wished that she could help Kara herself more than she did.

Kara was one of the people that Cat loved most in the world. She didn’t understand how she could love her so much and still be unable to fix everything for her. Cat traded looks with Maggie and Alex before going after her. She knew all along that she would. Cat had just wanted the confirmation that it was the right thing to do.

Kara was on the verge of throwing a lamp across the room when Cat got to her. The worry-stone that Cat had gotten her for her birthday was a pile of dust on the floor that may never come out of the carpet. She hadn’t ever seen Kara’s jaw working like that before. It worried her even more. Cat wrapped her arms around Kara from behind and locked her them around her waist.

“Cat, I’m not in the mood for this right now.” Kara said in a voice that was more of a low rumble than an actual speaking tone.

“That’s the point, sweetheart.” Cat replied, squeezing her about the middle with all of the strength that was in that little body. “Now, hows about you tell me about whatever it was that made you feel like this.”

Kara could feel her body slowly start to relax in Cat’s unyielding grip. The tension in her shoulders and neck stayed though. It was always the last to go. Cat was still doing her best as she curled around the back of the much larger Kara.

“There was a fire out towards Coast City, in an abandoned warehouse district. A bunch of homeless kids had been living there for months. All of the exits had been blocked by the fire so I went in to make a skylight. No one was able to help. Clark has been in deep space on a diplomatic meeting to the Lantern Corps.” Kara said looking torn apart.

Cat came out from behind her and knotted her fingers with Karas’ in their laps.

“I just… I just wasn’t fast enough. I know that if I had gotten there sooner, pushed a little harder I could have gotten them all out. Those kids… they didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that.” Kara cries softly, her tears leaving clean tracks on her cheeks.

“Kara, look at me. Look me in the eyes, right now.” Cat ordered, snapping Kara to attention with her tone. “You saved kids’ lives today. Every one of those children knows that they owe you their lives. I know that you love being Supergirl and you are great at being a hero, but every life that is endangered day in and day out is not your responsibility. You can’t hold yourself to that high of a standard or you would go nuts. You have to find a balance inside. Mourn the lives that are lost, but don’t hold yourself accountable. You should also know that I will always love you no matter what… even when you’ve gotten soot all over our bedroom and probably the rest of this place.”

[mikemortgage]

The Real Madrid Way: A Canadian sports exec tries to win over — and sell —an iconic Spanish soccer club

Dave Hopkinson remembers Nov. 1, 1994, quite well: it was his 24th birthday and his first day hawking season tickets for the Toronto Raptors, then a professional basketball expansion franchise in a diehard hockey town.

Hopkinson and 23 commission-hungry recruits sat in a room on the 14th floor of a building overlooking an arena construction site. Each was armed with a phone, desk and chair, and all competed to make a sale and ring the six-inch brass ship bell that their boss, Raptors founder, John Bitove, had mounted on the wall as a motivational tool.

The top four sellers were promised full-time jobs. The rest would be let go.

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“Dave was determined, fearless and fun,” Bitove recently recalled. “And he was just a kid, in his early 20s, but he would never give up, which is one of the things I loved about him. He would cold call anyone. He would work the phone. He would work his personality.”

Hopkinson would keep ringing the bell and look over at Bitove’s desk afterwards with a big, aw-shucks-boss-I-did-it-again grin on his face, which drove everybody else in the room halfway nuts, but earned him a full-time sales position.

The entry level job was a toehold on the sports business ladder that he has kept climbing: from selling the Raptors to selling just about everything for Maple Leaf Sports & Entertainment Ltd. — owners of the Toronto Maple Leafs, Raptors, FC, Argonauts and more — including a 20-year, $800-million deal with the Bank of Nova Scotia to rename the rink formerly known as the Air Canada Centre.

The deal — the largest of its kind in North American major professional sports history — reverberated internationally. Hopkinson, long sought after by NHL and NBA teams but never sold on a move, became a hot international commodity.

An executive recruiter in Los Angeles called and, this past June, Hopkinson left MLSE to become the global head of partnerships at soccer giant Real Madrid, the third most valuable sports franchise on the planet, behind only the Dallas Cowboys and Manchester United (the Maple Leafs are not among the top 50).

Dave Hopkinson, the former COO of MLSE, has been drafted by soccer juggernaut Real Madrid to market the Spanish team abroad becoming global head of partnerships.

The move to Europe means Hopkinson has to apply the skills he honed at MLSE over two decades to a new continent, while also bringing some of the Old World back home. One of his chief mandates: selling an iconic Spanish club, not just to the true believers, but to the soccer holdouts in North America and China.

“With Real Madrid, Hoppy has stepped up to a whole new level that we simply don’t play at in this country,” said Brian Burke, a friend and former colleague at MLSE. “He is in the penthouse suite in terms of working for a professional sports team. Hoppy is a heavyweight.”

Hopkinson, known as Hoppy since Grade 7, was raised in Toronto, had only ever worked in Toronto and certainly wasn’t expecting a call from Real Madrid. He didn’t even speak a lick of Spanish. But Real Madrid was “Real Madrid,” he said, “ a magical opportunity,” a professional roll of the dice too good to pass up.

The new hire was in the bathroom of his new home in Madrid on a recent November evening, filling the tub after picking up his eldest of two daughters from dance class — a mundane, dad-at-home moment in what has been a whirlwind few months.

“I’ve already bumped into a couple of pointy objects around the office and stepped on some landmines, but I’ve also had some small wins,” Hopkinson said. “I sort of sympathize with what it is going to take to be successful here, and how to be successful around here.”

Real Madrid is valued at more than US$4 billion by Forbes magazine and generated over $1 billion in revenue in 2017, according to Deloitte UK’s annual Football Money League report. Almost 50 per cent of revenues came from merchandising and sponsorship deals. (By comparison, the Leafs, hockey’s second most valuable team next to the New York Rangers, are worth US$1.45 billion and had US$232 million in revenue during the 2017-18 season, according to Forbes.com.)

Money, though, isn’t necessarily the most appealing business aspect of Real Madrid. Part of what sold Hopkinson on the move was the team’s ownership structure. Instead of being lorded over by an egomaniac billionaire or some soulless profit-driven-corporate entity, the 116-year-old club, much like the NFL’s Green Bay Packers, is owned by its fans, about 93,000 community members known as “socios,” who each pay a $185 annual fee.

Many socios have been members for more than 50 years. Collectively, they wield a corporate hammer, electing the team president and board of directors, approving annual budgets and disciplining wayward bosses who stray from the community’s wishes.

Steven Mandis, who spent parts of two years interviewing Real Madrid executives, players past and present and frontline employees for his 2016 book, the Real Madrid Way, believes “community values” and culture, two airy-fairy and hard to define things, are what underpin the franchise’s enviable success, on and off the field.

“It starts with Real Madrid getting the world’s best players that match the community’s values — to play an attacking beautiful style of soccer with class, to win championships and capture the imagination and inspire the current and potential global audience,” the former Goldman Sachs Group Inc. banker tuned business author/academic wrote in his book. “Since Real Madrid’s values are inclusive and universal, appealing to a global audience of all ages, the community grows globally.”

A fan waits the start of a Real Madrid match. The football club has a unique corporate structure that some argue adds to its global appeal.

Mandis’ belief is both elementary and revolutionary. Sports fans are inherently tribal, soccer fans perhaps the most rabidly so, which occasionally results in hooliganism and pitched street battles between rival supporters. But Real Madrid’s tribe isn’t just shelling out for tickets and merchandise, or throwing the odd knuckle or two, it guides the club’s direction.

The results are telling: Real Madrid wins — a lot. It is the three-time defending UEFA Champions League winners and has captured a record 33 Spanish domestic league titles since 1932. Its excellence and fan involvement boosts annual revenues, enabling it to cherry-pick global stars, such as Cristiano Ronaldo (recently decamped for Juventus in Italy), which begets more winning, further accelerating the growth of the international fan base and the crush of sponsors worldwide clamouring to get a piece of the action.

Which is where the guy from Toronto comes in.

Hopkinson understands how flaky talk of “values” sounds, especially to a North American sports audience, and especially around his hometown, where the greed of former Leafs owner Harold Ballard scarred a generation of hockey fans, and a pint at Scotiabank Arena sells for $12 a pop. But after three months in Madrid in a job he parachuted into in part to walk the tightrope between taking a storied franchise in some new business directions and observing its old traditions, he has bought in.

He is taking Spanish lessons, working with a language app and sees Real Madrid’s values reflected in everything from the tenure of its employees — people get hired and they don’t leave — to the tiniest of personal touches. For example, sending out company wide emails to announce an employee celebrating a birth or mourning a family death, regardless of corporate rank.

Dave Hopkinson with his family at the Real Madrid field.

“I don’t see these values articulated anywhere — there is not some plaque in the lobby saying, “This is our way,” he said. “But it is something that is understood around here; it’s palpable.”

Of course, as a sales guy, Hopkinson wakes up every day thinking about the value of money and how he can squeeze more revenue for Real Madrid out of a globalized sports industry.

“Dave has no problem putting a big number on the table and justifying it,” said Brian Cooper, chief executive of MKTG, a Toronto-based marketing/sponsorship company that represented Scotiabank in the MLSE naming rights deal.

A lifetime ago, Cooper was a Raptors executive when Hoppy was a “ticket sales grunt.” In many ways, Cooper said, Hopkinson has grown by bounds, but in others he is the same kid with the easy smile that he was from the start: smart, well-prepared, relentless, quick to remember a name or a fact, keen to network and able to make everybody feel as though they are part of the team.

“Dave’s team at MLSE would do a tremendous amount of work up front on who you are and what your needs are — and who your target audience is,” he said. “And he is going to bring that sophistication to the Real Madrid brand.”

Hopkinson, like almost every executive in every industry everywhere, sees Real Madrid’s greatest potential for growth in China and the United States.

“Despite the fact that football is the world’s most popular game, it is underdeveloped in the two biggest markets,” he said.

Real Madrid already has an office in Beijing, and will open one in the U.S. sometime before U.S.-Canada-Mexico host the 2026 World Cup.

Hopkinson gives a purely imagined example of how Real Madrid might crack into China’s corporate coffers. Take a hypothetical Chinese domestic brand — a toque, an electronic gizmo, a you-name-it — that is manufactured in China and, as with many such brands, nobody in the West has ever heard of.

Enter Real Madrid, sports behemoth, with more than 200 million followers on social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram), only about three per cent of whom actually reside in Spain, plus a Champions League final television audience of around 165 million viewers annually. (The average Super Bowl draws about 100 million viewers; the Cowboys count around 13 million followers across social media platforms.)

Marry all those eyeballs, tweets and likes to a Chinese toque on an imagined Real Madrid player’s noggin and that brand suddenly goes from having zero international profile to the big leagues. The big leagues, in theory, give a company licence to charge a premium for its goods associated with Real Madrid’s superstars and, naturally, give Real Madrid licence to charge the company a fortune to be associated with its trusted, winning narrative.

“If you look at the statistics of the value of Real Madrid, plus their numbers in terms of fandom and fan behaviours, then you start to realize the magnitude of what they are talking about,” said Cheri Bradish, a sports marketing professor at Ryerson University in Toronto.

Although consumers have never been more adept at ignoring advertising messages — the average human’s capacity to delete or ignore pop-up ads, videos, television commercials and email-marketing blasts is by now well honed — getting attention from existing fans isn’t a problem for Real Madrid.

The team’s fans aren’t looking for less, they always want more, which has led to some inventive new twists in corporate partnering. For example, every Real Madrid player gets presented with a new Audi (other major sponsors include Adidas, Emirates, Hugo Boss and Nivea Men) at the start of the season, an event sparking much fan speculation: What car is player X going to pick? How about player Y? What does the car say about the player who drives it?

The Audi draw becomes a media/social media story, well covered by the club’s website, with the vehicles as props and the players as characters. Players who subsequently elect to drive a vehicle other than an Audi to the team’s training facility must park in a remote lot surrounded by a high hedge. The Audi drivers’ park in high visibility spots close to the front door.

“Does everybody care about what kind of car the players drive? No,” Hopkinson said. “But lots of people care about Luka Modric, Gareth Bale and Real Madrid.”

What he means is: soccer-loving automotive geeks get what they want, while the greater mass of Real Madrid fans get something, too — a glimpse of their heroes doing something other than playing soccer. Audi, of course, gets a bunch of famous athletes driving their cars to work every day.

But getting attention in the U.S. is different. Football — soccer on this continent — has been trying to conquer the U.S. ever since Pelé and the New York Cosmos burst onto the scene in the 1970s. Major League Soccer has 23 teams, including three in Canada, and its fans are enthusiastic, but the sports pecking order list still reads: NFL, MLB, NBA, NHL … MLS.

Dan Mason, a sports professor at the University of Alberta, argues pecking order isn’t what it is important. Real Madrid doesn’t need to convert Joe NFL Fan. It simply has to convince U.S. multinationals interested in boosting their profile overseas to harness the Real Madrid brand power to do it for them.

Real Madrid isn’t exactly a non-entity in the U.S. market. Fox’s English and Spanish broadcasts of Real Madrid’s 4-1 victory over Juventus in the 2017 UEFA title game drew a combined three million viewers, or about a million more than the average MLS championship game.

“Just because Major League Soccer isn’t as successful as the other major sports leagues in North America, it doesn’t mean that Real Madrid isn’t a valuable brand in North America,” Mason said.

Hopkinson declined to disclose any Real Madrid state secrets, but one imagines the likes of General Electric Co., Verizon Wireless, Coca-Cola Co. and more should expect a call from Spain soon.

Hopkinson, meanwhile, turned 48 on Nov. 1, the last in a cascade of family birthdays since the move to Madrid in September. To celebrate, he and his wife, Lawrie, took their girls, Miranda, 15, and Claire, 10, to Paris for the weekend. They got an Airbnb, went up the Eiffel Tower, strolled along the Champs-Elysées, ate great food, drank it all in.

What had started as a job offer had become a family adventure, and a fresh challenge for a veteran sales guy with a knack for ringing the bell the Hopkinson way.

“You know how they say there is some magic about the 90-day mark at a new job?” Hopkinson mused, from his bathroom hideaway. “Well, I feel the magic is happening. I am getting dangerously close to figuring this all out.” Financial Post

• Email: joconnor@nationalpost.com | Twitter: oconnorwrites

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[existentialstatesofmind]

Opening Up

Clare: stared at him for a long moment in disbelief. She understand why he hid the friendship before Makayla’s death and how it might seem easier at first to keep up the lie. His brothers just assumed he was still mourning their dad. Trying correct them would hurt. However, secrets festered until they destroyed everything. Family secrets were the worst of all. “I know they’re immature but do you really think they’re going to poke fun about your best friend’s death? Kota, if you never tell them won’t it eventually ruin your relationship with them? And Dom is your twin. He knows there’s more to the story. No one will ever hear it from me. I only feel like I have to encourage you tell them someday when you’re ready because I care about you.” Clare made a sympathetic face when Kota said it was a mystery. “Maybe one day it’ll turn up.” She said softly. Her eyebrows shot up when Kota said he was already in college. “Jesus, Dakota. I’ve heard of kids who are homeschooled getting so far ahead that they end up taking dual-enrollment courses at thirteen but it is really rare. What lead to your mom’s suggestion? Did you take an IQ test?” Clare’s tone of voice made it clear she was very impressed and more surprised than skeptical. She’d taken one in elementary school. Her parents never told her the results, they just made it clear she was ‘special’ and had different expectations than Darcy. They groomed Clare to attend an ivy league school. “I can’t imagine what it was like to be treated as an equal by adults and older kids. My sister got so mad when I corrected her papers or work sheets. She would never admit she took my advice. She stopped making the same mistakes though. I did work from her school books for fun and she hated that too.” Clare gave Kota a long searching look. “Are you going to keep going to Degrassi? Wouldn’t you rather go to college full time? Simpson usually doesn’t let anyone graduate more than a year early but technically everyone in the gifted program could graduate at that point, and you’re way ahead of the rest of us. My parents want me to have a really strong college application so I never thought they’d let me apply early. Or leave home before I turn 18. I dream about it anyway. They want me to go to law school. I could do it. Not my passion so I won’t. Katie is thinking about my pitch for the paper, by the way.” Clare hadn’t wasted any time. She watched more of the DVD with a big smile on her face as Kota shared some of the things he’d studied with Makayla while they were at the beach. “Yeah, you can tell she was interested since she didn’t pour a bucket of sand on your head.” She giggled softly. “Do you still believe in the String of Fate?” Clare asked her voice taking on a more serious tone. She liked to read the different theories of soulmates. She didn’t rule any of them out. She had a harder time with certain aspects of Greek mythology. Or anything else that clashed with her religious beliefs about the world’s formation. Clare moved closer to Kota on the couch and gently kissed him. “Two is plenty. I know it’s not easy for anyone.” Makayla’s family wasn’t paying much attention to the DVD probably for that reason. “You can tell me anything else Makayla would share.”

Kota: bit his lip upon hearing Clare's words. "Yes, they'd use it against me. I had gotten mad at Ash at one point and told him about my first kiss to make him jealous, now if I were to tell him she died a few hours later if we ever got into a heated argument he'd subconsciously yell it out and the same goes for all of them. Apparently I'm the only male in the house that can remain level headed during an argument,but that's mainly because as I listen to them I also try to quickly figure out a way to get them to shut up. My brothers and I only fight over stupid things because when I do something they don't like they talk to me or tell me in a heated argument and I would know to hide it from them. Not telling them won't ruin anything, if they do pester I'll tell them something like I took machanics and engineering and failed." he explained knowingly. He listened to Clare as she spoke and asked questions. "I did take the IQ test when I was twelve and got a perfect score, that lead to my mom's suggestion." He understood why her parents wouldn't let her apply early and didn't blame them. "I am going to continue going to Degrassi and going to college full time isn't something I want to do. I had that option when I was 8 and tried it out for a weekend. I didn't know what I wanted to major in and I favor more than one subject so it was hard determining a major which you need to know to go into being a full time student since they need to place you in classes. They did tell me that since I was 8 I could spend the next ten years of my life getting degrees in various majors and while that seemed pleasing, I thought of not being able to spend recess with Makayla, not having more than one friend my age, not having a winter vacation due to the homework load, the possibility of not getting a girlfriend until I'd meet someone my age in college, and graduating college with a degree meant I couldn't go back. I didn't want to miss out on anything so I decided that I'd take my time growing up, attend prom, meet kids my own age, and have a childhood. I did talk to Simpson before I started Degrassi because he thought it would be a mistake to accept me when I'd just be too far ahead of everyone, I explained the same thing to him that I did to you just now and he agreed to accept me as long as I would tell him when I'm getting bored of attending and wanted to graduate. He told me I could graduate whenever I wanted to due to the circumstances, he didn't and still doesn't want me to feel like I'm holding myself back. With leaving home early, it's the same in every country I've been to, you need to get emancipated and the only way allowed is if your parents are moving outside of the city and documents have to be filled out, but even the emancipation documents in Japan and they expunged. In Japan, you'll meet more people our age living away from home than you will here due to their high emancipation rate, although that isn't always the case, some kids in our school are orphans and there are various instances where you are able to live on your own before 18. As well as one other case, but that other case is rare. I only know of one instance in where that other case is valid and you'll know too, in due time." he informed, though it could wait since they are going to Japan, Clare will be able to see it firsthand. "About the paper, I think it's a great idea, when we get there I can have you talk to Yamamishi-san and have him teach you about the Curtural Festival that way you stay busy when I'm in Kendo Club, my friend Momo said she can pick up Emi from day care so that's all planned." he smiled happy that Katie accepted her idea. "Yes, I still believe in the Red String of Fate theory along with a few others." he smiled and nodded. "I really don't know what Makayla would share." he shrugged and smiled at her. "Is there anything you want to know?" he asked and watched Jill stumble into the room and immediately ran to catch her before she fell. He put a hand on her head and sighed. "She's running a fever." he informed Clare and got medicine for Jill and tried to give it to her only for it to spill from the corners of her mouth. "She's just like her sister." he chuckled before putting the dosage in his mouth and giving it to her orally, then getting a war, cloth to put on her head. "Makayla got over excited once and didn't sleep when she came to school the next day she fainted and had a high fever, I had to give her medicine orally too." he stated honestly and drank some soda to wash the taste of medicine from his mouth.