#sorry to be a negative nelly but fucking hell

[queen-mabs-revenge]

it's the pacing thing again — like i'm not one of those ppl who has a snit fit that there's not enough football in the football show, but to totally fade in from black on 5 weeks of successful total football after the way it was presented as the hinge point to the season both on the pitch and off?

we're supposedly another month past last week's ep and yet again it feels like the characters haven't gone through a month of time. according to beards tally they're 25 matches into the season???

so like..... it should be february with them just starting the return leg but like does this look like february???

like i feel like i'm in the twilight zone whenever they've done these skips this year? this is the first season they're trying to do an entire football season and oof it's truly not working imo.

that coupled with the fact that even tho they're racing through the calendar the characters feel like they're running through jello.

8 episodes and ted's still not really confronting his depression, nate's entire character arc has been 'went on a bad date. now went on a good date' and that's supposed to be his self esteem journey?, genuinely what has happened in kjpr? honestly? shandy and barbara have been nothinged. jack - again what is the forward motion on keeley's character arc here? rebecca??? sam's throwaway one-off very special episode?? jamie honestly feels like the only character that has actually escaped the torpor, and I've got my fingers crossed for colin, but my god the pacing is just absolutely bananas.

idk man i know this season went through massive rewrites, but this is what they settled on after all that? really???

[amusingmusie]

After seeing the non-canon demon interactions of Nel and Al in your god blessed writing. I can only imagine the mischief Nel would get up to after realising she can use Lucifer to her advance to get back at Al.

The chaos, I can see it now.

THIS IS FOR FUN ONLY AND NOT CANON TO YOURS TRULY

An Apple a Day

Lucifer motherfucking Morningstar is in the hotel. Nel is fighting not to stress smoke or shit her suit pants.

She cannot fuck up in front of this guy. Not fucking up is decently easy. She’s made plenty of mistakes- some of which landed her here in this inferno of eternal torment- but she’s also made plenty of sound choices, like huddling away in a corner of the lobby as she watches Lucifer occupy himself with rambling about the intricacies of crafting rubber ducks to his daughter and her girlfriend.

Because peace is never an option, a chill washes over her and static tingles dance on her skin- it's the only warning she receives of the incoming suffering.

Alastor materializes at her side with a crackling hum, one elbow propped up to rest on her head while the other grips his microphone. Nel doesn’t even flinch.

“Hello, my Negative Nelly! What are you doing skulking around this cobwebbed corner? You’re missing out on all of today’s grand fun!”

“The fun of you ribbing the big cheese of Hell, you mean,” she snaps, sticking out a finger to jab him in his ribs. “Cut that shit out. You’re playing with hellfire.”

Alastor drops into the floor before reforming on her opposite side, his other elbow weighing down on her skull.

“Jealous? Don’t be! My disdain for him could never compare to the special contempt we share.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I speak from the heart.”

“You don’t have one.”

“Oh, my sweet, you wound me!”

His dramatics grate on the single nerve of Nel’s that his hoofed feet haven’t trampled already. At this rate, he threatens to draw attention to them, and by proxy her, and she is not going to have Lucifer associate her with the jackass like everyone else in this ratty hotel already does.

She’s going nuclear.

“Allie,” she coos, placing her hand over his upon his staff, “I heard all that mess earlier with you and Charlie. If you wanted to have a daughter so badly, all you ever had to do was ask me.” 

There’s a harsh, sharp pitch in radio waves while Alastor’s gray face twists into one of pure, utter, absolute mortification. The beanpole sinks down into his shadow on the musty carpet and darts away, becoming nothing more than a black mass fleeing to his radio tower.

Ah, she’s still got it. 

A very pleased snicker catches her attention, and she snaps her head to the side, coming face to face with the devil she’d been trying to avoid all day. Mortified, she stammers over herself, staring up at Lucifer who’s beaming so widely that his red cheeks are pressing upwards into his eyeballs.

“Oh Jesus Christ- shit, no, not him- Your Majesty, I am so sorry you had to see that. Look-”

He holds out one hand to silence her. Nel brushes aside the indignation of being told what to do by a man and falls silent. 

Then, he bends over and giggles.

“Are you kidding?” Lucifer wipes away a few tears threatening to fall down his rosy cheeks as he keels over cackling. “Oh, oh, oh! Woo! You! Ah, sweet Eden, that was incredible, phenomenal, fantastic! Way to stick it to that tacky piece of crap! Keep up the good work, uh-?”

“Penelope, sir. Or, uh, Nel. Nelly.”

“Keep up the good work, Nancy!” he chirps with a wink, clapping a hand onto her shoulder.

She blanches. “It’s Nelly.”

“That’s what I said! That’s what I said, right? What did I say?” 

Awkward tension settles between them. One of her yellow eyes twitches.

After the brief pause, a mischievous grin slithers onto the king’s bone white face. “Well, Mel, if you ever find yourself in need of some assistance with that halitosis-ridden bellhop, don’t be a stranger!”

“...You don’t say?”

“Mhm! Now..." he leans in close to her, deathly serious, and Nel begins to fear that she's done something terribly wrong. "How do you feel about rubber ducks?”

Oh. Huh.

Maybe she does have an ally here after all.

[purge-that-urge-rhackathon]

couldn't come up with any timhelm that peaked my interest soooo we won't be having any sorry y'all xD

I do appreciate the asks sent in for prompts :) i don't have the spoons to answer them but thanks for trying :)

[butterfliesluke]

Ex trouble:

Request: Y/n and Luke are married. Luke's ex Sierra keeps bothering them tho even tho Y/n is pregnant. It goes as far as that they have to call the police.

Requested by: emmyb.allen1 (this is for a request no hate towards Sierra)

A/N: Sure thing! Enjoy!

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Y/n's POV:

The light breeze of summer air was hitting my face. My body sprawled out on the bed.

My back against Luke's warm chest as my eyes fluttered open. A smile on my lips as I felt warmth curled up against my belly.

Little paws pushed against it. Petunia has been always attached to me since the day I moved in with my at the time boyfriend.

Now Husband. But since I got pregnant she was practically guard dog.

I scratched her head smiling before turning around slightly. Luke's eyes shut closed.

His eyelashes laying against his cheeks. His hair messy against the pillows.

My finger went up to poke his cheek with a cheeky smile.

A groan leaving his lips as he opened his ocean blue eyes with a glare.

,,Just cause you are carrying my child doesn't mean you can be cheeky darling." He mumbled making me giggle.

A sudden ping interrupting my planned sassy remark.

His phone lighting up on his nightstand. I huffed annoyed.

Since Luke's ex found out about my pregnancy she apparently noticed how much she still loves him.

Don't understand me wrong. I always had respect for Sierra. But this is going to far.

,,If it's her again I will actually give birth and then jump out if the window." I laughed making Lu chuckle.

,,Don't stress about it love. It's bad for our little bean." He whispered against my lips before pressing a kiss against them.

He sat up grabbing his phone. Before slandering into the bathroom.

I sighed before turning to piggy who was now sitting up next to me.

,,Goodmorning pup!" I whispered smiling.

After we got ready for the day Luke and I decided to go out for lunch with the boys.

We all sat in the back of the little diner.

,,I'll have..the chicken Alfredo with garlic bread..but could I get the garlic bread on a different plate? I don't like my food touching." Michael murmured.

The waited giving him a side eye meaning he will definitely spit in our food after that.

Crystal shaking her head with a smile.

,,Ofcourse..I'll be back with your drinks." She sighed and turned around.

,,Why is she making such a fuss? It's literally her job!" I laughed as Luke wrapped his hand around my shoulder.

,,I don't know! Don't worry Mike." Ashton smiled patting his frowning friends back.

Whose eyes then went wide while looking behind me matching everyone's who was sitting opposite us.

,,Yall look like you saw a ghost!" Luke exclaimed turning around to.

A small curse leaving his lips making me and Calum turn around too.

,,Oh fuck no.." I spat as I watched the one person I least wanted to see walk in the diner.

Sierra. Today is not my day.

,,What the fuck is she doing here?" Kay asked confused as she walked up to our table with an annoying grin.

Luke grabbing my thighs and whispering calm words in my ear.

That didn't help my boiling self tho.

,,What a pleasant surprise! 5sos and their girls! And the one night stand that got pregnant." She teased with an smug pout.

A gasp leaving Crystal's lips.

,,Oh fuck no girl. You are not ruining our day." Luke laughed standing up.

,,Oh Luke..don't get so worked up! We both know she's just a phase." She scoffed.

What the hell. Everyone is looking at us.

,,Sierra I am literally married to him you you blind chicken." I giggled shaking my head.

,,Deaton. Leave before I fucking call the police." Calum threatened also standing up.

Suddenly a glas off tap water being placed infront of me making me realize the waiter is back.

Sierra eyeing the orange juice infront of Luke and the sprite infront of Kay.

Her grabbing them both and with a swing I felt it splash against my shirt and pants and a slap against my cheek.

A yell leaving my body as I looked at her with stunned eyes.

,,Babe! Omg was it something hot? Did it hit your stomach!? Someone call the police right now! " Luke ranted before cupping my face.

His eyes filled with worry and pain.

,,I'm alright lu. It's okay.." I reassured standing up.

,, You guys take a taxi home. We'll handle this from here." Michael spat looking at Sierra.

I nodded standing up with Luke guiding me outside.

I guess this is what it's like being married to a celebrity.

Ex trouble part 2:

Request: Can I Have a Part two where Sierra feels so Guilty

Requested by: emmyb.allen1

A/N:Ofcourse! I tried my best! Hope yall like it was very requested by all of you♥️

THIS IS JUST AN IMAGINE. THE MENTIONED TOPIC DOES NOT APPLY TO SIERRA IN REAL LIFE. WE LOVE HER (no really. I am practically obsessed with her.)

Luke's POV:

It's been a week since the drama all happened.

And I'm still worked up about it. What is the liquid would have been hot? It would have burned her skin.

No matter how much I used to love Sierra. This has gone too far.

The constant stalking, messages, drama.

I'm married for God sakes. The moment she got physical the line got overstepped.

,,What are you still fuming about?" A sweet voice asked making me turn around.

Y/n waddled into the kitchen. Her belly looked like it could explode any second.

Her signature dimply smile flashing across her face.

,,The Sierra thing..." I murmured as she sat down next to me.

Her head falling on my shoulder as her perfume went up my nostrils.

My heart beating faster by the second.

,,Oh Lu. Stop stressing. It turned out fine. She won't bother is anymore." She whispered as I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Management has finally decided to do something about this mess allowing me to be able to never let Sierra near us again.

,,I know...but-"

My sentence got interrupted by the door bell.

Y/n furrowing her eyebrows. ,,Are the boys coming over?" She asked making me shake my head.

,,Mhm maybe it's Crys." She shrugged pressing a kiss to my cheek and standing up.

Running to the door as best she could. A grin on my face. I'm so madly in love.

My day dreaming cut off once I heard a loud ,,LUKE!!" from the hallway.

The Luke that mostly comes when either she is upset with me or she needs me instantly.

My mind running a mile per hour. Did I order something stupid again?

Oh God what did I do?

Jumping up I quickly ran to the door.

My eyes widening as I saw who stood infront of the door.

,,Yeah no. What are you doing here?" I asked crossing my arms, standing next to the shocked Y/n.

Sierras guilty face dropping some more.

I know that face. She really felt bad for something.

,,Luke.. Y/n..I don't know what got into me to be honest. I was hoping I could apologize and maybe explain myself." She muttered.

Her gaze fixed to the ground.

,,There's nothing to ex-" ,,Hush! Sierra this is the last chance. If you try to pull a thing like that again I don't wanna see you again." Y/n, miss sometimes too kind hearted, said.

Sierra had a small smile on her lips before nodding. Us stepping aside and walking into the living room.

,,She better have a good reason." I grumbled making Y/n push me slightly.

,,Negative Nelly.." she spat shaking her allowing me to roll my eyes.

We sat down on the couch. Si taking a huge breath before starting to speak.

,,Firstly..I wanted to say how truly sorry I am. I should not have lashed out on you especially since you are carrying a Child." She said.

Her eyes screaming -I really mean it this time-

A small nod coming from Y/n.

,,And Luke. I really do care about you. I'm sorry for hanging on you even tho you are married." She explained.

My dark eyes turning a shade lighter as I nodded too.

,,The thing is..when I found out your pregnant...my heart shattered." She admitted.

Unexpectedly her eyes filling with fresh tears.

Y/n's face dropping as if she knew something.

,,I-I can't have kids. I found out two months ago." She cried out.

Y/n's eyes filling with tears aswell as I gasped. Even tho she practically turned my life upside down..I was still in love with her a while ago.

,,Oh my..Sierra I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed as Y/n put her hand on hers.

,,I got so jealous and I'm sorry!" She sobbed making our heart shatter.

,,oh shh it's okay..I can't imagine how you feel." Y/n cooed rubbing her shoulder.

My arm coming around Y/n's shoulder as I placed my hand on Sierra's thigh.

Y/n was my everything. My whole world. And her allowing me to have a child is the best gift in the world.

But I can tell the excitement on her face when we talk about welcoming our baby into the world.

She will be an amazing mother and her love for our child is already so huge.

So passionate.

I can't imagine how it is for a woman to find out that she will never be able to have children.

Pulling her into a hug we all stayed close to her.

And in the end...our little girl and Sierra got along so well.

[modestroad]

you come with pleasure and pain (maybe I treat you the same)

A huge thank you to @canadianwheatpirates for their beta help. This was going to be a ‘Theo gets high’ short fic, but my brain had other ideas. Oh well. Title from sickick’s song ‘No Games’. 

It felt…wrong.

The apartment felt wrong.

It was too big, too expensive, it only had one and a half bathrooms, the walls needed to be painted, and the layout of the kitchen was all wrong.

Theo didn’t seem to mind, of course — she loved the location and the views — but to Shirley it felt wrong. Or maybe it wasn’t the apartment’s fault, but her own. When she had thrown Theo out two months ago she had been angry at her little sister — angry and upset. Yet that was before they had gone to Hill House, before they’d seen Nellie’s ghost, before she’d watched her sister break down in the middle of fucking nowhere. Now here they were, apartment hunting for Theo in Boston, and Shirley didn’t like it at all.

“No, it’s not…” She fought to find something negative to say. “The kitchen’s layout is all wrong. And the appliances need to be update.”

Theo looked at her, and Shirley didn’t need to be a sensitive to know she was pissed off. “It’s not as if I’m going to spend all my time in the kitchen, Shirley.”

“Yeah, well.” she was a Crain, and the Crains were stubborn as hell. “You’re gonna hate it in the long run.”

Five minutes later they were in Theo’s car The music was playing too loud for Shirley’s taste, but she wasn’t going to comment; not when Theo was  still ‘homeless’ and she was doing her best to keep the peace. She wanted Theo to move out — it was about damn time — but she didn’t want it to happen right away. She knew how selfish that thought was. That’s why she kept it for herself.

“Next time you’re not coming with,” Theo told her after twenty minutes of driving in almost silence. Shirley loved her sister, but Theo’s taste in music was getting on her nerves.

“You’re going to end up in a crappy apartment in the wrong part of town if I leave you alone. You need me to-“

“To what? Point out every little thing wrong? Okay, sure, it was overpriced, but it was four blocks for my fucking office, Shirl! I wouldn’t need my car, I could just walk there.”

Shirley could feel a headache coming on. “The kitchen-“

“Fuck the kitchen.” Theo said under her breath and then, more loudly, “Fuck the fucking kitchen!”

“Maybe I don’t want you to move right away,” Shirley finally admitted. “Just…not yet, okay?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Theo turn her head to look at her. It only lasted a couple of seconds; her attention quickly went back to the road. “Luke’s going to need somewhere to stay after rehab.” Theo reached over and turned down the music. “That gives us a couple months — more if he goes to Steve’s first.”

“Yeah.”

“Besides, I’m moving to Boston, not the West Coast.” Theo’s voice was light, but Shirley’s heart felt heavy with that thought. “Just thirty minutes’ drive.”

“Yeah.”

She tried a different approach. “This is good. Moving on. This is good. For both of us. We both said some things… things we needed to say and hear, so this is good. This is the healthy way to do things.”

“Theo, can we just not do this right now?” It came out harsher that Shirley intended, but she didn’t apologize; she didn’t have to. Maybe Theo had been right. No, she knew that Theo was somewhat right, that night she broke down, and she couldn’t stop thinking it. Theo kept everyone at arm’s length for a good reason, but she was going places; she was living her life while Shirley was, well… living more quietly.

She was thankful that Kevin forgave her. So damn thankful! It was right, what they said: people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, but she had done exactly that, secure in the thought that Kevin wouldn’t find out.

Telling him the truth was the right thing to do.

Now that she was calm enough to think straight, she can see that her family would have suffered if he hadn’t taken Steve’s money.

They had both given up the  secrets they’d kept from one another and now their relationship felt…stronger.

“Does Trish know?” she suddenly asked. Judging from the long silence that followed, Theo was keeping secrets as well. “Are you thinking of telling her?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know,” came the answer, and she knew now not to push.

She couldn’t really understand how Theo’s… gift, power, whatever, worked, and she still had a hard time accepting it. She could only imagine what Trish could think if, or hopefully when, Theo came clean to her. Besides, it was too early on their relationship to drop such a bomb — and it was a bomb! Perhaps the bomb to end all bombs.

“If you can see a future with her… take your time, but tell her.”

Theo said nothing, so Shirley turned to look at her.

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you see a future with her? When you,” had sex, “when you touched her.”

“Shirley.” The warning was evident in Theo’s voice: drop it.

“Sorry.” She wasn’t. “I’m just saying, it’s normal to be afraid.”

“Shirley.”

“Okay, I’m stopping.” She couldn’t resist one last comment, though. “I’m just saying.”

[thedogsled]

Who Tube (Doctor Who YouTube) is hilariously terrible at the moment. You’ve got new fans being gatekept by old fans and then yelling at the old fans and then the old fans yelling back, people subtweeting each other on their channels “Some YouTubers, they know who they are”, people posting vicious rants as soon as episodes end--lots of really really toxic shit on both sides. Like. It’s hilarious--if you enjoy VERY thinly veiled misogyny on one side and blind adoration for progressiveness at the expense of decent writing on the other. If you listen to these people, it’s not very difficult to see where the canon schism between straight white “geek culture” males and anyone with a so labeled by said people SJW motivation come to blows. They both think the other side is just ignorant, and the constant lashing out is just. Wow. It’s really. Wow.

Saltiness ahead.

It frustrates me a lot, because I feel the show has been really hit and miss this season and the warring on YouTube is just another example of how you just can’t discuss this reasonably. It’s not all bad, but it’s certainly been far from all good. Some of it REALLY works, like for example Ryan’s dyspraxia and the decision to explore Yasmin’s character through her grandmother’s story, but some of it doesn’t. I was particularly dismayed today, spoilers, by James I being played through the lens of modern campness by Alan Cumming this week, turning the former monarch into a queer caricature (I know the guy most from his role in Spy Kids, Fegan Floop, which replays ENDLESSLY on british TV). I feel like a lot of the episodes of this season have been simply the characters thrown into chaos, bad guy is revealed to be an alien, then the Doctor gives a shockingly profound, emotional speech that makes you forget how awful some of the other parts were and you go away with ~feels~ and not much else, because all the endings are pulled out of the writer’s ass anyway. Just. That’s how I personally saltily feel about this show this season, like it’s been platforming for a bunch of different writers saying what they want to say about humanity through the Doctor’s mouth. Like she’s ceased to exist beyond her existence as that mouthpiece, and that in some ways the show has too. (just my opinion. anyway.)

But you can’t talk about this stuff. I find myself reading reviews and watching people who like the show and place no accountability on the show beyond being politically bold, and it drives me nuts. It doesn’t matter what form it comes in, so long as it’s pro-feminist, or it exposes people to history they might not have learned in class, or there’s a dude giving birth for 50% of the airtime. If I want to hear or discuss any challenge to those things, I find myself listening to purely negative reviews instead, and noping out when the person suddenly reveals halfway through that they believe that because men aged 18-40 is a big demographic, it only makes sense that they’re the group that are kowtowed to at every opportunity. Like wtf dudes, sorry you can’t hack that other people exist in the world and you aren’t being catered to 24/7 any more. Fuck off. So it’s no wonder the antis feel Doctor Who lovers are all SJWs and the pos!Who people are convinced that the antis are all racist misogynist fucks. (The showrunners do too afaik, and that isn’t helped at all by Chibnall and Jodie both being SO resistant to negativity that neither of them seem to be soliciting fan feedback that isn’t positive.) Is it hard to ask for objectivity, though? For something that comes down the middle? That isn’t racist and misogynistic, but maybe still cares about how the things we’re looking for in terms of representation are being handed to us? How about, at least, not having to listen to some people who are so entitled that they literally think that Jodie Whitaker shouldn’t have shot out any babies so that she can instead devote her entire life to making TV shows? (Seriously, I listened to one girl who thought that, and you could hear her contempt for people who have kids in every syllable.)

I’ve liked episodes of this season. The Kablam! episode was great, I only had minor complaints with the ep that I handwaved away because I felt like there was actually some dramatic tension. I liked episode 2 because it was idk. A fun adventurous romp and the characters all had flaws. I quite liked Rosa because it had the bones of something better, and that showed through in all the scenes where Rosa’s actress (Vinette Robinson, who was also in the Chibnall episode ‘42′, btw what nepotism how many british actors do you think there are?) interacted with the other characters. 

But they weren’t all perfect, at least to me. Maybe I’m a negative nelly, because everyone seems to be tripping over themselves to scream positivity about the show in their reviews, but I, personally, feel like much of it has fallen flat. When they did finally drop - as they’ve been avoiding for much of this season - the ‘If I was a bloke this wouldn’t have been a problem’ thing, it wasn’t even delivered with a great deal of gravity or purpose. Maybe some people think that was a good thing, I don’t know, but looking at the way sexism was handled in Timeless, for example, and hell, Sliders (which was a trashy 90s show about jumping between alternate realities; or Quantum Leap for that matter, which had Sam jump into the lives of women in the past and experience days in their lifetimes), it’s way past the era of TV to deliver that kind of line like it’s inconsequentially drawing attention to something nobody noticed before, you know? Why is the BBC always 100 years behind, despite playing like it’s the most progressive thing ever? Why do we let it, and say “Sure we’ll take it, that’s enough” instead of also insisting they tell GOOD stories, and not wave their hand and say aliens did it at the end of every episode? I get it’s a time traveling series but the aliens show up and then the doctor waves her magic wand and ~science~ and yes she quoted Arthur C Clarke but she can do that and be powerful and tell powerful stories that aren’t completely...halfhearted, and if you don’t have trumped up stupid bad guys you don’t have to have flimsy solutions for beating them at the end.

We SHOULD be seeing ourselves in the media we’re absorbing. I firmly believe that. I also think, though, that we’re entitled to be respected by that media as well, in that the stories we’re seeing that show US should be good stories. They shouldn’t be concentrating on making as many nods as possible to as many corners of culture as possible that it stops caring about the story it’s telling, because whatever politically correct points it scores will ensure people overlook its flaws. It’s disrespectul, and we shouldn’t allow it, because it means we’re nothing but a commodity, an unquestioning storyblind audience that just doesn’t care so long as our representation needs are getting catered to. That means we’ll keep getting more representation, but a lot of it will be shit, because no matter what we’ll throw up our hands and give it ten out of ten and rigorously defend it no matter what caricatures it throws in front of us.

We should demand better stories alongside our representation. Fandom is so powerful now that we’re being written for, because as a whole we aren’t objective. We engage in mass squeeing, we’re GREAT at giving positive feedback and high ratings like it’s our job to do it even if it’s undeserved (and arguably Who NEEDED that positive feedback this year) and best of all anyone who doesn’t agree can be written off as an angry white dude, or racist, or just ignorant. That’s good for ratings and good for clicks, and networks eat that stuff up because it makes them money. But that isn’t respect, and we shouldn’t be selling ourselves out for a bargain basement price.

That’s my last word on it for now. I’ll probably complain again next week, and I know I KNOW this isn’t a popular pov for people, but I’ve made my bed with that. For those of you who loved it, I’m glad for you. I’m mostly disappointed for myself. And I still think camp James I was fucking terrible but I already know people love him, so what do I know?

P.S. my tags are for my flist so they can blacklist properly, not to force my saltiness down the throats of other Who fans. You don’t have to agree with me. I just needed to vent.

[nellie-dritz-official]

Nellie, that takes place before the film begins. The bad review ruining Gusteau‘s career isn’t even actually in the film, that’s how NOT major that it is. Its only referenced and talked about in the film by the characters, but the film itself is set AFTER that event. To me at least, that is a HUGE signal that the bad review ruining Gusteau‘s career is not a major part of the film. (1/4)

And I never got that reading from Ego at all. I won’t say its an invalid reading since everybody is entitled to their own interpretation of a fictional work and its messaging. But I just did not get that reading at all, that Ego was just some one—dimensional, evil critic that Pixar set up to bash. I think even you pointed out YOURSELF that Ego is redeemed in the end, and that just doesn’t read to me like Pixar wrote Ego to be the ‘harshest and most evil critic’. (2/4)

What I got from Ego was that he had become detached from why he became a critic in the first place. He originally started out as somebody who wanted to genuinely critique and properly review food so that he could let the public know what was good and what was not good to eat. But after time, he became cold and jaded, and succumbed to just writing extremely negative reviews of restaurants because that’s what sells the most. That’s what people love to read/watch. Negative criticism. (3/4)

And what I think that this film does beautifully is that the writers bring Ego out of that state. They write him to eventually be reminded of why he became a critic in the first place, because he originally LOVED food. Ego’s whole character arc in Ratatouille is being reminded of what he loved, of what inspired him to choose the job that he became famous for to begin with. And, I’m sorry Nellie, but I just find that to be some DAMN beautiful, good storytelling. (4/4)

Oh jesus christ...

Okay, from the top. Let’s do this.

that takes place before the film begins.

...before? It’s on the TV that Remy watches before being almost blown away by a shotgun. It’s very much in the fucking movie. It’s not some outside source or reference, it is a direct blatant detail of the movie’s plot.

If story setup is not necessary to a story, than prose and chapter titles cease to be useful under your logic, which is highly untrue.

What I got from Ego was that he had become detached from why he became a critic in the first place.

Does the film objectively tell or show you this? No? Then it’s not in the movie. You’re gonna sit there and tell me that something in the beginning of the film isn’t there, while also telling me that this random take out of fucking nowhere that just so happens to support your argument is totally there. Nice hypocrisy, clean your mirror while you’re at it.

But after time, he became cold and jaded, and succumbed to just writing extremely negative reviews of restaurants because that’s what sells the most.

Not according to Ego. To quote from his second review: “We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read.” He didn’t do it just for others, he genuinely thought it was fun. He gave no mention of how criticism chnged him for the worse, instead, he posterized that he was always the way he was, until Remy cooked him the Ratatouille.

The truth of the matter is that reviews (positive or negative), can be funny. And that’s less on whether it’s negative or not and more out of how entertaining it is from both the personality and the humor. You want funny regardless of whether it’s a good or bad review? ILoveKimPossibleALot has this in spades.

Ego’s whole character arc in Ratatouille is being reminded of what he loved, of what inspired him to choose the job that he became famous for to begin with. And, I’m sorry Nellie, but I just find that to be some DAMN beautiful, good storytelling.

AGAIN, none of this is stated in the movie. Which means it didn’t actually happen as far as messaging and themes of the story goes. You wanna have a nice headcanon? By all means, have at it, that sounds soft as hell. But don’t try to present it as if it’s a legitimate intention of the movie when it gave zero indication of it.

The fact of the matter is, this movie is not too subtle in painting the harshest version of a stereotype, claim he’s so successful in his ruthlessness that he can ruin the career of even the highest chef in the world, and of whom it takes only the Special Person to come into his life to change him for the “better.”

We could harp on details all we want, but that’s the main meat of the dish it served for us, and as someone who is and has friends that get bashed via being tone policed (on top of many many other imagined crimes), I’m gonna have to push away this plate and not even bother.

[scientifically-strange]

FoleyFest Day 2: Unseen/Underappreciated

Cheers erupted around the room as Tucker watched the screen. Danny was there, and he was with Captain America and Hulk saving the world again. Tucker had been in their ears the entire time, telling them how to deactivate the ghost bomb (fuck you, Walker), and telling them the best plan to go with when they couldn’t decide. And he didn’t mind at all. He really didn’t.

But maybe if he got as much recognition as they did then maybe his chest wouldn't feel like it’s caving in on itself. 

See, the problem with not being recognized, is that you think it’ll last forever. Eventually you get used to people not saying thank you or just brushing past you like you’re just another face in the crowd. But compared to Danny and the people he fights alongside with, Tucker might as well be just that. After all, what the hell kind of competition was he when compared to someone as bright as Iron Man or as iconic as Captain America?

He wasn’t. Plain and simple. 

The cheers around him turned into excited chatter, and yeah, he was glad that he was able to cause that, but it wasn’t the same when he wasn’t getting hugged or being the one on their shoulders. He sighed and looked away from the screen.

He just. He needed a laptop. Or his phone. Maybe finish tinkering with whatever the hell he had in his room at the Tower. Danny had gotten his floor, and Tucker had his own room decked out with technology and posters of his favorite bands. Maybe he could finally fix that mini-fridge in there. Anything to keep his mind occupied so it wouldn’t reach out to his heart and tell him how he’s really feeling. It was just so much easier to bury it than to deal with it. It didn’t even matter, anyway. He knew he made a difference. That should have been enough. He’s just overreacting.

He hadn’t noticed that someone was following him until he made it to his room. His door had been stopped, making him turn around, slightly irritated. But when he saw who it was he couldn't help but be surprised. Standing there, leaning against the frame, was a recovering Clint. He used his crutch to help himself off of the door frame and hobbled in, stepping carefully over the clothes so he wouldn’t trip and hurt himself further. 

“Hey, kid,” he said, stopping just a couple of feet away from Tucker. He didn’t give the archer a reaction. Instead he just turned back around, straight for his computer chair. Clint didn’t come closer. Whether it was from letting Tucker have his space or from just not wanting to trip over anything, Tucker didn’t know, but a small part of him appreciated it. Clint was obviously here to help or something, so he would try not to be a dick. 

“Hey, Clint,” he replied, not meeting his eyes. He took his glasses off and obsessively scrubbed at them for a couple of moments before placing them back on his nose. Clint was watching him carefully. 

The silence that stretched between them wasn’t awkward, but tense. Tucker couldn't explain the feeling, or the feeling of wanting someone to talk to but at the same time wanting to tell Clint to just screw off. He chose the former. 

“The world is saved again, and you’re being a Negative Nellie,” Clint stated after a few more moments of silence. Tucker looked up at him, an eyebrow raised. Clint continued. “Listen,: he said, “I’m not really big on emotions and shit, but do you wanna talk about what’s bugging you?”

Tucker shrugged, looking down at his hands. Where was he supposed to start? Besides, it’s not like it mattered anyway. He was just reading into it too much, just like he always did. People were safe, that’s all that mattered. That should be enough. But for some reason it never was. 

“It’s stupid,” he said. His lips were moving without his consent, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. “I just...” he hesitated, thinking about telling Clint to just forget about it, but he forced himself on. After all, he had always been one to finish what they started. “I’m just tired of being ignored, you know?” 

Tucker looked up at Clint again, turquoise eyes pleading under his black frames. They shined with the kind of emotion Clint had only seen in people a handful of times. Complete desperation, mixed in with a little loneliness, even with the knowledge of everyone in the world having your back. 

“Do you want to, er...Elaborate?” Clint asked. “Like, what do you mean?”

“I mean like Danny and Steve and you, you all get to be on TV and ride on everybody’s shoulders. I do just as much work and I-I don’t even get a thank you. It’s stupid, I know. I know you guys are thankful. I know that it shouldn’t even matter because the world gets to keep spinning for a little while longer.” His voice was rising but he couldn’t stop it, or the tears that were building up. “I just want a god damned thank you! It’s-”

He was cut off by the sudden warmth wrapping around him like a blanket. Clint's strong arms squeezed him close to the archer’s chest, and Tucker clutched onto his shirt, finally letting his tears fall. Clint was bad at emotions, but he sure as hell did have a nice shoulder to cry on. He rubbed comforting circles on Tucker’s back as he sobbed, smearing tears and snot in the front of Clint’s tank top. 

“Kid, to be honest I don’t think we could function without you,” Clint told Tucker. “We appreciate you, bud. But we’re shit at showing it, and for that I’m sorry. You’re our guy in the chair, and you deserve just as much recognition as we do.”

Tucker sniffled and looked up at Clint, who was smiling down on him. There wasn’t a lie anywhere on his features. Tucker wiped his nose on the back of his hand and pulled away. 

“You really mean that?” He asked. Clint nodded, giving him a light shove as he picked up his crutches. 

“Yeah, Tuck. I really mean that. Now, are you gonna join your party or do you still want some time?”

Tucker chuckled slightly, nodding as he wiped the tears away and collected himself.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “I’ll come.”