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kayleen756894 · 5 years

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Had a request to post my recent writing

I felt a little inspired recently so I wrote 4 little stories, each kinda focused on one object, theme or idea. They’re all about 500 words, only one page on Word. I wanted to see what kind of stories I could tell with that limitation since I tend to write very long pieces. I took it as a challenge and I found it to be very helpful. These are not fics, merely recent examples of my writing, and if you are interested please feel free to read them and tell me what you think! Writing my own novels someday is my goal after all.

Play Pretend

His favourite thing to do when he was younger was play pretend. He had an overactive imagination and never had great social skills, so instead of meeting new friends he would make his own. All manners of creatures and fairies, princes and princesses, complete with some distinguishable trait that made them valuable to him. They gave him someone to talk to, to play with, share his ideas with, when no one else was interested.

The only real person he could comfortably talk to was his older sister.

His sister never came out of her room much. He was certain she must enjoy a whole different world in her room, because he’d never been inside and he’d never seen her leave. He only knew what she looked like from the pictures framed in the hallway.

Those pictures had been there since he was born, his parents said. She was pale in the pictures, accented with tired eyes and tight smiles, skin stretched taut over bone. Nothing like how his classmates looked.

His sister wouldn’t let their parents frame any more. He had asked her why. She said she didn’t want anyone to see her.

He never understood that. The only thing he had ever wanted was to see her. But all he could ever do was look at the young girl in the photos and imagine what she looked like now.

He told her all about the friends he created. She was the only one who would listen and even say what she liked about his friends. She really liked the princesses, especially the one that could also transform into a monster.

Monster Princess was a good friend. But his sister was his greatest friend.

She said that made her happy, but that she wished for him to also find other friends. He didn’t understand why, when he had her, Monster Princess, and all the others.

She said because sometimes friends leave, even when they don’t want to.

One day when he came home from school his sister’s door was open. He had imagined how this moment would go for so long but was so sure he would never get the opportunity, so now that it was here he wasn’t sure what to do.

His voice regained function before his body, so he called for her. Her name dissipated into nothingness, as if he had never spoken, and he received no reply.

When he finally gained the courage to peer inside, it was plain and lifeless. No toys, no clothes, no artwork, no photographs. Nothing to represent that a person had ever lived there. Nothing to represent that this room had been someone’s whole world.

He left and pretended he had never entered.

And every day since he would close his sister’s door, speak, and pretend she was listening.

Left Alone

She never asked for it. Never wanted it. Never wanted to be popular. Never wanted to be a superhero.

She just wanted to be left alone.

Instead, what was supposed to be a simple modelling job to pay her rent got her famous. She couldn’t leave her apartment anymore without people recognizing who she was. Now it was sunglasses, large hats, and heavy coats whenever her feet hit the sidewalk. It was a stealth mission simply to visit her favourite bakery down the street. Some days she wished she had never run from home just so things could be simple again.

One day with a burst of crimson light, her life became even more complicated.

She was turned into a superhero against her will, with mutant powers forced upon her. She ignored her abilities out of spite. Why should she work for someone who would violate her like that?

But then she met the others. They’d been given powers against their will too, but they mastered them and used them to protect their city. A part of her hated them. But they loved her and welcomed her, so she stuck with them because they were the only ones who didn’t treat her like she was different. To them, she wasn’t a famous supermodel. She wasn’t a freak with unnatural powers.

She was just a person.

So she saved the city with them, over and over again. They tried to get closer to her just as hard as she tried to keep them at a distance. The more she tried to be alone the more they seemed to be there. And though she would never tell them, she slowly became used to their presence in her life. They made her new powers become a bearable weight.

But they still weren’t something she asked for. She’d been offered a job across the country and should be able to further her career and her life without being confined to this place or responsible for its well-being. She didn’t choose to be a superhero, but she could choose to stop being one.

Her friends begged her not to leave, saying they couldn’t stop this latest threat without her. She told them she didn’t choose to have friends, either.

She left in the middle of the night, the rain pelting down on her car in waves as she took the highway out of the city. No other cars were out at this time. She was alone.

Just like she always wanted.

An explosion rang from the city and she watched the fiery cloud in horror through her rear-view mirror. She slammed on the brakes and rolled her window down just a crack. With her enhanced hearing, she could hear frenzied screams even over the storm.

She could pretend nothing happened and keep going. She could be alone. For once it was her choice.

With a screech of tires she swerved her car around, because the only people who made her feel less alone needed her.

Grey

She was born into a world of grey. No mages held knowledge of any spells to remedy colour blindness, and since there was nothing she could do she didn’t let it bother her. She wished she could see in colour, wished she could see the green leaves and the blue waves and the orange sunsets that her parents often described to her, but had accepted the different shades of grey all those things would forever be.

This didn’t stop her from helping her mother with the cooking. This didn’t stop her from helping her father in the fields. This didn’t stop her from doing both once her parents joined the Goddess.

She lived a comfortable life on her own. Sometimes the village children came to visit her on the farm and she would give them fresh produce, and in return they would describe the colours of each vegetable and compare them to other foods of the same colour.

Seeing colour through their eyes was enough for her.

But one day she heard a rumour of someone who might be able to help her. Many rumours honestly, and who knew which ones to believe. Some spoke of a water nymph curing diseases. Some of a spirit with eyes so bright a blind man could see them. Some of a woman blessed with such incredible magic that she must have been sent from the Goddess herself.

If someone like that existed... could they help her see colour?

She lived her whole life on this farm and no longer had anything to lose from leaving, so she packed a bag full of essentials and departed at next sunrise.

The forests were difficult to traverse as everything looked the same. She’d never been away from home before and didn’t realize how tricky it would be to navigate without colour. The Goddess blessed her in the form of a kind man with a travelling cart that allowed her to ride free of charge. She explained her condition and her goal, and while promising to get her closer to her destination, he told her stories overflowing with colour.

She wanted to see those colours for herself more than ever.

They were destined to part at an inn once clear of the forest and he bid her farewell and safe travels. When she walked inside she was immediately struck with an electric feeling, all her nerves alert. Not in the sense that something was wrong, not exactly, but as if something in the air wasn’t natural. Wasn’t human.

She asked the attendant for a room and with a smile that was far too knowing, the attendant gave her a key to the basement room at the end of the hall.

The further she descended the thicker that electric feeling in the air became. It danced over her skin, her nerves singing and tingling, most notably around her eyes, as if trying to pull energy from them. She blinked rapidly and unlocked her room, pretending to ignore the lightning that shot through her arm when she gripped the handle.

On the other side of the door, she saw a girl lounging on her bed with eyes that weren’t grey.

Pictures Don’t Change

I’ve loved taking pictures since I was little and my mom bought me a toy camera. I loved how they could capture emotions, capture youth; provide memories after they had faded from the mind.

I loved how they could capture little moments in time. How, for each photo, nothing mattered but what you could see in that moment. How, once a picture was taken, what was within could never change.

I made a career out of it. Photographing people—capturing their emotions, eternalizing their feelings—was my favourite form of art.

I hit it off with my most recent photography model, a woman who carried a sense of loss in her eyes that only appeared on camera. Otherwise, she hid her emotions with a strong smile.

She led me by the hand into her room and rather than anticipating the upcoming events, my focus landed on a beautiful framed photo of her and a young man on her bedside table.

She noticed I was distracted and released my hand, but she didn’t seem bothered. “That was Trevor.”

I glanced her way. “Was?”

Her sad smile finally matched the loss I had seen in her eyes before. “He was a childhood friend of mine. We would have dated. He asked me out but I told him I needed some time.” She released a deep breath, as if trying to purge the guilt from her body. “He died that night.”

I didn’t know what to say. Neither did she.

Eventually she broke the silence. “Do you mind if I shower first?” She chewed at her lip anxiously.

I respected that she suddenly needed time to compose herself. “Not at all. Take your time.”

“Thank you. Feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

Only once I heard the water running did I stand and curiously examine her room. Pastel walls, curtains and blankets, filled to the brim with knickknacks, clothes and accessories. Numerous photos clung to the walls and collected dust on shelves, but the cleanest and easily the most eye-catching was the vibrant photo of her and Trevor.

I carefully picked it up to observe it closer. They were at the beach with their arms around each other, the orange of the sunset illuminating their skin and hair and darkening their shadows, and while she was looking at the camera, Trevor was looking at her. There was so much love in his eyes and it was clear that his love for her had been there for a long time.

That love, that moment, forever existed in this photo, and nowhere else.

“You’ll never get to kiss her because you’re in a picture, and pictures don’t change. But don’t worry,” I reassured Trevor, “at least you’ll always be in love with her, because you’re in a picture, and pictures don’t change.”

#writing #my work #i live in canada so don't @ me at how I use the word colour #these are all just quick little things #thanks for reading!#that last one was inspired by a quote I saw in an article while doing homework and it really just stuck with me #I've wanted to write a LiS fic around it to be honest

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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Do you think that demons can have offspring with other demons and humans? Do you think they are born as demons, humans or even I can see a hybrid there?

'Sup, Anon! I think the heart of a question like this is whether that little girl was Tsukihiko's (aka Muzan's) daughter or not. I'm inclined to say not, because Rei had a previous husband whom Muzan killed so he could use her for her connections. (And while it's never been stated and people can interpret it however they want, I assume they are dead. Or at least, if they're alive, that's the last night they ever saw him.) Because it's stressed in canon material that only Muzan's blood (even if via other demons, whether willfully or not (and that's a whole different can of canon worms)) or specific medicines developed by the Heian doctor and Tamayo could turn people into demons, I'm inclined to believe that they may be a bit like standard zombies--it only works if the body was previously a normal human and the key is that a change had occurred--and that they can't reproduce like humans can. For instance, if demon metabolism and sleep patterns and healing and growth don't work like normal humans, I hardly expect any of them to go through menstrual cycles. And, in the name of fairness, I headcanon any potential sperm as duds. So while I'm inclined to think the answer to this question is no, I also don't have any evidence beyond this, and if people want to make half-demon OC's, I will not stand in anyone's way (and I won't stand in anyone's way no matter how wrong I might think a take on canon is; fanwork is ultimately meant to be whatever you find fun and interesting). What I would suggest is to at least have these children born with teeth, like Hakuji was, which resulted in him being called a demon child. There are other examples of this in wider Japanese folklore, like legends surrounding Kidomaru (said to be the half-demon bastard of the big baddie of Heian era demons), and the Genpei War era absurdly strong warrior monk, Musashibo Benkei. To quote the relevant part of an old article I wrote about him, emphasis added:

...Though they remained married (and supposedly happy together), he went off to do his wandering warrior monk stuff and Benkichi remained in Nagami Village with a tough pregnancy ahead of her. It was said to have took a whole thirteen months, and she had such a strong craving for iron that she absentmindedly started eating gardens hoes. She was halfway through eating the tenth one when the other villagers finally noticed and stopped her.

In the morning on the third day of the third month of the first year of the Ninpyou period (that would be March 29, 1151, but again, this is merely the contents of this letter and not the only story out there), baby Benta was finally born. He would later be called “Oniwaka” (something akin to Young Ogre), and later still he would change his name to Benkei. Baby Benta was born with long hair, teeth, the name of a Buddhist god of war written on his left shoulder and the name of a Great Tengu written on his right shoulder. Most of his skin was iron and black, except for a little bit around his throat because his mother did not finish eating that tenth garden hoe. He was a frightening looking child, but Benkichi was thrilled to have him. While telling her adult son this story later, she admitted he was born looking like this because she had eaten so much iron during the pregnancy.

(Btw, I love Benkichi and already did a Benkei-inspired crossover with Mitsuri (and by extension, Obanai as Yoshitsune). But that was before I saw Himejima dressed as Benkei in an official Kabuki crossover and was like, hell yeah, that works *too* well. Absurdly strong monks ftw.) So, in the cultural context of KnY we can reasonably find babies like Hakuji called demons, but for all canon has stated about how actual demons are made, it may be more of a stretch.

#kny nerdery #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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avatar-news · 4 years

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Avatar Studios masterpost!

Here’s absolutely everything there is to know about the big Avatar news from today’s ViacomCBS Paramount+ Streaming Event and investor day!

Summary of facts

Avatar Studios is a new studio at Nickelodeon. Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra co-creators and showrunners Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino are the co-Chief Creative Officers of Avatar Studios.

Avatar Studios will create original movies, series, and shorts set in the world of Avatar.

The first project is an animated theatrical film set to start production later this year.

One or more Avatar Studios Paramount+ Original Series will be among the 50 original shows coming to Paramount+ in its first two years.

The above image has been included in many articles and official social media posts. It’s presumably the current official logo of Avatar Studios.

That is a distilled list of the cold, hard facts from the whirlwind of news that has come out today, from many different sources. With that out of the way, the rest of this post will delve deeper into everything we’ve learned, including full-length quotes from the people involved.

Today’s event

Today, ViacomCBS (the company that owns Nickelodeon, and thus Avatar) held their “Streaming Event” and investor day. ViacomCBS is launching their big streaming service, Paramount+, on March 4th. It’s a rebrand and relaunch of their current streaming service, CBS All Access. Paramount+ is meant to be their big push to compete in the streaming wars with Disney’s Disney+, Hulu, and ESPN+; WarnerMedia’s HBO Max; NBCUniversal’s Peacock; Apple’s Apple TV+; and, yes, Netflix’s Netflix by Netflix in collaboration with Netflix.

Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra are already on CBS All Access in full, and they, like all the rest of the content on the service, will automatically transfer over to Paramount+. (Currently we know absolutely nothing about when or if either show will leave Netflix. They’re currently on both Netflix and CBS All Access, so it’s possible they’ll remain on both Netflix and Paramount+ for some time.)

Here’s my livetweet thread from today’s event. Below, I’ll cover the notable stuff:

The first big mention of Avatar was when it was called out by the CEO as one of the ViacomCBS properties that were big hits on other streaming services last year.

It’s notable that it was mentioned among a list of exclusively adult, live-action series.

This is totally in line with the earlier stuff where the CEO mentioned it as having potential for Paramount+ original content.

The presentation also included something along the lines of: if you helped make one of our properties popular on another streaming service, there’s a good chance originals will be coming to Paramount+.

Basically, they saw how huge Avatar was on Netflix last year, and that visibility was up to the highest levels of the company.

And of course, finally they announced the creation of Avatar Studios. This was actually a few minutes after the news went up officially online, so at that point I lost track of the stream as I covered the news. But, I do know they didn’t show/announce anything else in the event besides the news that went up online.

Official quotes/statements

Here are the official quotes about Avatar Studios sent out today:

Joint official statement from Bryke:

“It’s hard to believe it’s been 19 years since we created Avatar: The Last Airbender. But even after all that time, there are still many stories and time periods in Aang’s world that we are eager to bring to life. We are fortunate to have an ever-growing community of passionate fans that enjoys exploring the Avatarverse as much as we do. And with this new Avatar Studios venture we have an unparalleled opportunity to develop our franchise and its storytelling on a vast scale, in myriad exciting ways and mediums. We are exceedingly grateful to Brian Robbins and Ramsey Naito for their enthusiasm and respect for the Avatar property and us as its stewards. From the start, they’ve supported our ambitious plans and created a positive, proactive environment for us. We’re excited to be back at Nickelodeon where Avatar began, doing what we do best in the biggest way possible. We can’t wait to build the great teams and productions to make all of this fantasy a reality.”

via Entertainment Weekly

Bryan on his Instagram and Tumblr:

“Bryke is back at Nickelodeon in a big way. ⚡️💙⬇️💙⚡️ Mike and I are heading up a new studio dedicated to expanding the Avatarverse.”

Mike on his Instagram:

“BIG announcement! @bryankonietzko and I are returning to #Nickelodeon as co-chief creative officers of Avatar Studios to develop new animated projects in the #avatarverse and oversee the franchise. Couldn't be more excited and inspired!”

Brian Robbins:

“Avatar: The Last Airbender and Korra have grown at least ten-fold in popularity since their original hit runs on Nickelodeon, and Ramsey Naito and I are incredibly excited to have Mike and Bryan’s genius talent on board to helm a studio devoted to expanding their characters and world into new content and formats for fans everywhere. Creator-driven stories and characters have long been the hallmarks of Nickelodeon, and Avatar Studios is a way to give Mike and Bryan the resources and runway to open up their imaginations even more and dive deeper into the action and mythology of Avatar as we simultaneously expand upon that world and the world of content available on Paramount+ and Nickelodeon.”

via Deadline

Brian Robbins was referred to as the president of Nickelodeon on Entertainment Weekly, and “President, ViacomCBS Kids & Family” on Deadline. Ramsey Naito is the president of Nickelodeon Animation.

Press release

The post-event ViacomCBS press release mentioned Avatar in two places:

First, right up at the top:

“Over 50 original series to premiere on Paramount+ over next two years, including Halo, Frasier, Criminal Minds, iCarly, The Real World, Grease: Rise of the Pink Ladies, shows from the Avatar, Yellowstone, Star Trek and SpongeBob SquarePants universes and more”

The wording makes it unclear if it will be multiple shows from each of the final four franchises mentioned, or if it’s plural because it’s listing multiple franchises. It’s talking about the first two years specifically, so it’s likely that in that timeframe only one Avatar show would be ready, but in general it’s basically guaranteed that there will be multiple in the coming years.

The second place it’s mentioned is in the “Expansive Slate of Upcoming Paramount+ Original Series” - “Kids & Family” section:

“Avatar – Nickelodeon’s new animation studio division dedicated entirely to creating content based on the wildly popular world of Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra. Led by the series’ original creators Mike DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, in partnership with the Nickelodeon Animation Studio, Avatar Studios will produce for Paramount+ a wide-range of Avatar-inspired content, ranging from spinoffs and theatricals to short form.”

Info from news

Across the many news sources today (sites, social media, etc.) this info has sort of coalesced:

What is Avatar Studios?

It has been referred to as a studio, a venture, a division of Nickelodeon, an animation studio division, etc. etc. etc.

As far as we know, it’s not an animation production studio and so doesn’t employ animators who draw the frames of animation themselves.

What does Avatar Studios make?

The various sources have said they’re making series, movies, and short-form stuff. The first two are pretty self-explanatory. The third, shorts, remains to be seen what it is. I could honestly see official TikTok videos or something, but that’s just my speculation. 😂

Right now it has been said that Avatar Studios will be making Avatar stuff only. Various wordings like “based on” and “Avatar-inspired” and “in the Avatarverse” have been used.

The question of live-action has arisen. Some places, including Mike’s post, specifically say animation, while Bryke’s official statement also says “myriad [...] mediums”. It’s highly likely there will be both animation and live-action at some point. Currently it’s probably animation-focused, with the first project being an animated movie.

Where will Avatar Studios content come out?

Another case where there have been various wordings used throughout the different news sources.

It has been said that Avatar Studios’ content will be made for Paramount+, Nickelodeon’s “linear” (meaning old-fashioned live TV) and digital outlets, third parties, and theaters.

Paramount+ is self-explanatory, that would be Paramount+ Originals streaming exclusively on Paramount+.

Nickelodeon complicates things a bit. I find it a little hard to believe that within a few years, new Avatar shows specifically for Nick’s TV channel will start being made. It’s possible statements to this effect are indicating the content will also end up aired on TV. ViacomCBS’s Star Trek universe’s first Nick show will be taking that route: first on Paramount+ and then later airing on TV on Nick, so I’m guessing something similar could be the case here. As for Nick’s digital side, they have episodes to watch on their website and apps, so I’m guessing that’s what that refers to-- I wouldn’t read into it too much. Nick itself is one of the sections on Paramount+, which also just makes my head spin a bit more.

Mention of third parties is also a little weird at first. ViacomCBS does double-dip a lot, so maybe Avatar Studios will also end up making shows for, like, Netflix and others, but it just seems like a weird business decision when they just announced Paramount+. One thing this could be referring to is potentially other mediums like books and games, for which it would make sense to be for other companies.

Lastly, theatrical. In their movies strategy, ViacomCBS announced that Paramount movies like the Mission: Impossible franchise will still be in theaters, but go to Paramount+ exclusively after a reduced 30-to-45-day theatrical window. (Some movies will also have the regular window, also a little confusing.) Some movies will also just be Paramount+ Originals in the first place, like the newest SpongeBob movie. Avatar Studios’ first project has been exclusively called a theatrical animated film. This seems to suggest that it will be in theaters at first, then a Paramount+ Original shortly after (probably the shortest, 30-day window if I were to guess). This is interesting because if it’s theatrical, that could suggest a big budget, especially if this is their first project they intend to make an impressive splash with. It could also potentially suggest 3D/CGI animation rather than 2D, but I personally don’t find that super likely. However, it could mean fancier 2D animation than we’re used to, and that’s saying a lot because we’re used to some pretty good animation from the Avatar franchise! The wording of “theatricals” could also just be used as a synonym for “films”, to indicate prestige, theatrical release quality and budget rather than made-for-TV or direct-to-DVD vibes.

In summary, it seems like right now, they’re covering all the bases, but if Paramount+ is as successful as they want it to be, it’s likely they would eventually (maybe quite soon) move more and more stuff into it exclusively. Currently, there’s also still a lot of uncertainty due to the COVID-19 pandemic, and so the new state of the theatrical, linear, and streaming marketplaces hasn’t really crystallized yet either. The world does seem to be moving to streaming quite hard though, so while they’re covering all the bases right now, again, it’s likely most of this stuff will end up mainly as a Paramount+ thing.

And again, I mentioned TikTok as a possible experimental place for short-form content. Maybe. Especially if they make the next Avatar after Korra modern day?! Ok, let me not get ahead of myself...

Who will work at Avatar Studios?

We only know about Bryke so far. They’re the co-Chief Creative Officers.

Brandon Hoang, who was working with Bryke on live-action ATLA at Netflix, has confirmed he’s not involved. He also left Netflix at some point; not sure if it was at the exact same time or for the same reasons as Bryke, but he’s neither here nor there, as it were.

No, I don’t have anything to tell you about Jeremy Zuckerman. :)

Given that there will be multiple shows and movies, it’s likely that lots of different people will end up working on them. Bryke’s official statement said that they will “build [...] teams and productions” at Avatar Studios, and Mike also said that they will be “oversee[ing] the franchise”. Right now, we don’t know what exact role Bryke will have. They might write/direct/showrun some stuff themselves, or they might oversee other creatives they hire for those roles, or, likely, both-- different levels of involvement for different shows and movies.

As mentioned previously, Avatar Studios (probably) isn’t an animation production studio. This means they will still hire animation production studios, like Studio Mir, to do the animation itself. I say “like” Studio Mir, because I’m not sure if Studio Mir itself is free right now. They recently officially partnered with Netflix and have plenty of things on their plate there. So, it remains to be seen who will be doing the actual animation for Avatar Studios’ projects.

Lastly, this is an awesome opportunity to have the “culturally appropriate, non-whitewashed cast” assurance Bryke originally made for live-action ATLA both on and off the screen at Avatar Studios!

Netflix and live-action ATLA

There has been no news or updates on the live-action adaptation of ATLA being developed at Netflix, which Bryke was originally showrunning but left (to do all this!) over creative differences.

No, it’s not cancelled.

I suppose this makes it a little more likely that Netflix would choose to give up on it, but right now there have been no changes. The existence of Avatar Studios almost definitely has no effect on the licensing rights Netflix obtained to make a live-action ATLA adaptation-- that stuff is usually pretty iron-clad. Again, maybe in light of all this Netflix will choose to not go through with it, but they also might want to make it even more now to compete with Paramount+ on Avatar. We don’t really know the stances of the decisionmakers at Netflix, so we’ll have to wait and see.

Personal note

Over the last few months I’ve gotten a lot of, err, rude comments and messages whenever I said there could be new stuff coming. I’m really not here to say “I told you so”, because I don’t care-- I run Avatar News for fun.

But, I hope this goes to show that I wouldn't be posting things if I didn't have good factual reason to believe them, and that very much panned out very correctly here. Sometimes it’s directly or indirectly based on stuff I can't say publicly. I always have and always will post in a trustworthy, fact- and reason-based manner.

In light of that, and for just a bit of “I told you so”, here’s a timeline of all the Avatar News posts that led up to today. Definitely had a lot of fun re-reading these just now:

August 12th, 2020: Bryke left the Netflix live-action ATLA series two months ago. It’s not the end of the world.

September 15th, 2020: ViacomCBS is relaunching their streaming service next year as Paramount+, the future home of Avatar shows and movies?

September 17th, 2020: Anonymous asked: Do you think now that the original creators left the live action remake that they will make a new avatar animated series?

November 6th, 2020: CEO says Avatar franchise has potential for new original series on Paramount+, the new streaming service launching next year to compete with Netflix, Disney+, and HBO Max

January 4th, 2021: “This also brings up another interesting point, which is that Bryke actually originally pitched this storyline to Nick as an animated movie after the show. That obviously didn’t happen, but now that Paramount+ is coming and teasing potential new Avatar content…”

January 5th, 2021: Investor day announcement

January 21st, 2021: The Fire Nation Awaits 🌺 An in-depth look at the ever-elusive islands in the era of Korra and when we will finally pay them a visit. See section: Are they saving the Fire Nation for an animated movie?

February 12th, 2021: All seven seasons of Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra are coming to Paramount+ on March 4th!

February 20th, 2021: The musical themes of Avatar: An Avatar News interview with Jeremy Zuckerman. See section: “So, another streaming service: Paramount+.”

February 24th, 2021: Avatar Studios masterpost :)

#news #viacomcbs investor day 2021 #paramount plus #movie #masterpost

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

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The Sight of You (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s disturbing dreams about his childhood bring him back to Las Vegas to face two of his childhood’s greatest enemies: his estranged father and his ex best friend.

AN: it’s a friends to enemies to lovers fic! Set in the episode “Memoriam” 4x07

Content Warnings: usual Criminal Minds stuff, mentions of child death, childhood trauma, descriptions of a dead body. Let me know if I missed anything!

Despite seeing Spencer around Pre-k, Y/N did not trot over to talk to him with their brightly coloured rucksack swinging vigorously and violently behind them. They walked faster instead once their parents had dropped them off. Spencer did his best to catch up to Y/N but lost them around the corner in the sea of students seeking their next class. He was meant to be one of them. Adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose, Spencer noted that he needed a new prescription before entering his own class and preparing to focus on a subject he was already well-versed in.

It was lunch time when Spencer finally found Y/N. They were sitting at the furthest end of the table in the canteen. But Y/N cowered away from him, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Are you OK, Y/N?” Spencer asked before getting to what was more significant to him: “Do you know when you will be free to play again?”

The next sentence out of Y/N’s mouth stung like a nettle. They stood up, their face contorted in their fit, and they pushed Spencer hard on the shoulders.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!” They cried.

They went silent when Spencer was laughed at by those who heard what was said. Just grabbed their lunch and moved away, leaving Spencer spellbound in the middle of the canteen, heartbroken and with a new opening for a potential chess partner. Maybe that man they saw last week at the park would be kind enough to join him again.

But there was no replacement for Y/N, who now never said a word when they caught a glimpse of Spencer being bullied – only dithering about on the spot before fleeing the scene moments before a teacher would show up.

Spencer was hurt; that hurt warped into hatred when he was next out with his mother and father. They were at the shopping mall and had just bought Spencer his new glasses. Going down the escalator, he saw Y/N. They were smiling and skipping between their parents, a new pair of shoes shiny on their feet.

The second they spotted the Reids, Y/N ducked behind their parents. Spencer could still see their face: brow furrowed, eyes squinting, hands shaking now that nothing was holding them. Their parents didn’t seem to notice. They kept talking and walking even as Y/N stopped in time with the Reids stepping off the escalator.

Sudden footsteps running away was what dragged the public’s attention to a suddenly absent child.

“Y/N!” The parents called out as they chased after the four-year-old. They were quick past the Reids, not stopping to say ‘hello’.

Spencer kept his eyes trained after Y/N’s fleeing form, right until his mother’s face came into view. Diana looked saddened; she too was staring after the L/Ns. Turned to his father. William was composed but his eyes were turned down and watering.

For making his parents react like that to their mere presence, Spencer despised Y/N.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The burning hatred from adolescence staled once Spencer reached adulthood. The protective nature that spawned from it for his mother remained.

Which is why, when Diana Reid casually mentioned Y/N when asked about Riley Jenkins, Spencer froze up.

“You remember Y/N?” He said stiffly.

Diana didn’t notice her son’s change in tone, “Of course, you two were opposites but you got on so well. So sad what happened to them.”

The first guess was that she was referring Y/N’s repeated attempts at running away before Reid cut contact with neighbourhood gossip at age fourteen. He didn’t bother with a second attempt to understand what his mother meant.

“I don’t care about Y/N. I want to know if you remember Riley.”

“And I told you: Riley was a boy you made up.”

“No, Mom, he was a real boy who lived in our neighbourhood, and somebody killed him. And, I don't know, I think-- I think that dad might have had something to do with it.”

“He was real?”

“Yes. And...”

“He was on that little league team, too.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The whole case was surreal - “case” being a very loose term.

When they got into his office, Spencer thought that perhaps things might simmer down a little. Unfortunately, as soon as his father spoke about their history of similarity in appearance, Spencer’s usual comfort of statistics and facts on the elderly and pets failed to conceal his abandonment issues.

William Reid was clearly affected by Spencer’s accusations, calling the idea of fitting the profile thus being Riley’s killer “absurd”. Furthermore, he was confrontational when asked for access to his files and demanded a warrant. Coupled with Lou Jenkins’ absolute certainty that William was not involved in Riley’s murder and Penelope asking him “you sure about this?” concerning invading the aforementioned files, Spencer was very close to snapping.

“I really wish people would stop asking me that.”

Then there was the envelope posted beneath his motel room door. Suspicious timing aside, there was a brand-new suspect basically handed over on a silver platter. One Gary Michaels whom Spencer couldn’t remember him but he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t know him. Uncertainty being the feeling he hated the most.

This man could fit the profile; his previous of exposing himself to a minor was a precursor to molestation. But that wasn’t what Spencer wanted to hear from the shady file slipped to direct his attention away from William.

Garcia reported back about his father’s drives, “No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

Hotch joined the conversation, “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

Spencer sighed while Emily decided to crack a joke: “Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we can overlook that.”

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?” Spencer persisted.

“Well, of course,” Hotch answered, “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know.”

A peace offering on behalf of Emily. Clearly she had improved after her night out and subsequent hangover. Spencer gave the go-ahead and Emily listed her profile:

“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

“He appears to spend most of his free time alone,” Hotch added, “He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is-”

Spencer interrupted his boss, “Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.” He pressed his lips together. They were right; William Reid did not fit the profile.

Garcia piped up once more, “He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, He even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi said, That's saying something.”

But Spencer smoothly dismissed this attempt to make excuses for his father, “Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

After getting said air, Spencer went to the local bar and began playing an computerised poker game. His paying attention was only to distract himself, clear his head with something he knew he could control. And thankfully, a chance interaction with a lady at the bar spawned the inspiration for a sporadic hypnosis session.

Doctor Jan Mohikian allowed them a session. Reminded of the limitations that a four-year old’s memory could provide, not including the bias he already had as a son and a profiler, Spencer lay on the couch. His feet hung over the end so that his head could be comfortable in a pillow. There was no time for self-consciousness with Rossi in the room observing. He closed his eyes and felt his hand be placed upon Doctor Mohikian’s body.

She spoke low and calmingly, “I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand. And if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His eyes were closed still, but the couch shifted into a bed. His bed. A floor below, the faint shouting between his mother and father was heard. There was someone else there too. A child wailing, and it wasn’t him.

Suddenly his father was at his side, touching his arm, saying, “I know you’re awake. Daddy loves you; you know that?”

Spencer didn’t want to be there, and then it was the following morning.

Putting his glasses, the room fell into focus. His mother was there, she didn’t see him because she was too busy looking out the window. Her body language told him that this was not a meltdown, but what she saw was distressing. She’d been crying. As she walked away into the house, she hid her face as if she knew Spencer was watching and she wanted to hide her reaction from him.

Spencer ran to the window the second Diana had left the room.

His father was in the back garden and burning clothes. A bloody shirt, a tiny cardigan, landed on top of the pile already set alight.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

And Spencer was shocked out of the scene, back to the doctor’s couch and gripping her wrist with an iron grip. Rossi was by his side, bringing him back to peace with his voice.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Derek was clearly disturbed that Spencer was very set on his father being a paedophilic murderer as much as he had been that Spencer was taking something that was said after his mother’s fit seriously. He continued however to assist with Rossi in Spencer’s investigation.

As if everything else hadn’t been hard enough, the captain took some time to agree to holding William Reid in custody. Finally, he settled for twenty-four hours. William was as resistant to the questions as he had been upon the initial reunion. All he could say was that he didn’t hurt Riley. Spencer wore him down, getting him to drop the Gary Michaels bomb plus the threat that he “didn’t want to go down that road”.

Garcia’s search of Gary Michaels’ DNA on the databases brought to light that their suspect was dead. Buried across state lines, beat over the head with a pipe or bat, and the body was discovered in 2001.

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on the clothes he was burning.” Derek was about to hang up when Garcia began to speak again, a new discovery ready for her team.

“Also, Todd found something in your father’s finances. There was a standing order for a therapist, specifically a child therapist from 1985 to 1995. I thought it was for Spencer, but William left when you were twelve, and these sessions continue irregularly after he left you!”

“Who was the patient?”

“One Y/N L/N. Local to North Vegas, born 1980 to Shelly and Finley L/N.”

Both Rossi and Derek looked away from the phone to Spencer and he knew. He knew he’d have to face another villain from the past – like a knight in one of Y/N’s stories.

“Still alive?”

“Yep, already pulling up an address. There’s a lot of short leases attached to this name. Lucky for you, they keep going back to live with their parents.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure that he could handle two bitter reunions in one day.

“We’ll send off the fingerprint while we visit Y/N. They could have been a potential victim of Michaels before he died. They might know something.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was a normal home in a normal neighbourhood. Spencer had never visited Y/N’s house. Their play-dates were always at the park.

“Hello, Mr L/N,” held up their badges, “I’m Agent Derek Morgan, this is Agent David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid. May we come in and ask you some questions?”

“Sure. My wife is uh out at work at the moment,” Finley opened the door wider and stepped aside for the trio to enter, “I’m the house husband as it were.”

Looking about the kitchen, Spencer spied several photos of an adult Y/N but very few of them as a toddler and even less as a teenager.

“You have a child, Mr L/N?” Rossi asked.

“All grown up now, Y/N,” Finley smiled with a nod. Then he squinted at Spencer, “You’re not related to William Reid by chance, are you?”

Masking his bitterness, Spencer said shortly, “He’s my father.”

Finley seemed in awe at the prospect, so Derek redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “What was Y/N like as a child?”

Nodding still, like a bobble head, Finley looked weary at the notion, “Troubled. They were very young when they withdrew into themselves. Used to run away from home a lot. I don’t know what happened, but Y/N never told us.” He then jumped to protect his child’s reputation at present, “They’re doing better now, went to therapy and they’re doing very well for themselves.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Rossi replied.

Finley continued his defence of Y/N, “They’re a published author, they write fantasy things for kids and young adults. We’re very proud of them.”

“Did Y/N know Riley Jenkins when they were a child?”

“Riley Jenkins, that’s Lou’s kid who died, right?” Finley sought confirmation and, when he had it, he spoke, “Not personally. I think they might have played at the park once or twice. Before he died, Y/N would play with anyone. But you… you know that.” And Finley gestured to Spencer, much to his disgust.

“Is Y/N in the area?” Spencer asked briskly.

“Well, they’re due for a visit in a few hours. They went on holiday.”

“They still live with you?”

“A month ago, they got a new flat in the city. But they’ve got their own room here, for whenever they need it.”

“May we see it?”

The wallpaper was barely visible beneath exam revision notes, posters of Fresh sheets on the bed and the clear space on the floor were the only tidy things about the place. It was a haven of organised clutter.

A chess set caught Spencer’s eye. It sat upon the windowsill, recently dusted. The pieces were not that of a classic set; each was painted prettily but with enough error to indicate it was a personal touch.

“You and Y/N were close then?” Derek was holding up a photo album. Upon inspection, the photograph the page was open on was of Spencer and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Doctor Frankenstein and the Monster respectively – accurate to the book of course.

“Yeah, ‘were’,” Spencer turned back to the chess set. He didn’t bother to ask when his friends had figured out he knew Y/N.

Rossi decided to further test the waters, “You think that Y/N could have killed Riley?”

“Of course not. A four-year-old couldn’t kidnap, tie up, rape, and kill a boy their own age. No violent history that indicates they would ever do something like this. Do I think that Y/N knows something about what happened and my father is trying to keep them quiet? Yes.”

Rossi moved beside Spencer, picking up the knight. Except it wasn’t a knight. It was a wizard of some kind in purple robes.

“We’ll stay up here for a bit then go down once Y/N’s inside and settled,” He gestured with the knight to the window. Spencer blanched as he spied a cab at the end of the driveway. The trunk was open and someone was retrieving a suitcase from within.

Y/N appeared around the corner, waving off the cab and turning to the house. Mr L/N appeared on the drive and they met in the middle for a hug. Over Mr L/N’s shoulder, Spencer could see that Y/N had grown into their chubby childhood features. They looked genuinely happy.

He would have to go through with it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he couldn’t go hide in the bathroom like with his father.

The trio plodded down the stairs when the sound of the front door closing was replaced with a joyous gathering in the kitchen. It all changed when Y/N went to take off their jacket and caught sight of the three FBI agents standing in the doorway. Taking out his badge, Rossi led the way.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid. We’re looking into the death of Riley Jenkins, and we were hoping to ask you some questions.”

To the naked eye, very little changed about Y/N’s appearance. To the three profilers, there was a visceral reaction: Y/N’s right hand started trembling, the hard swallow, the dropping of their gaze from Spencer to the floor.

“OK,” They said, a great deal quieter than they had been with their father.

Rossi sat next to Y/N at the dinner table. Derek was beside Rossi; Spencer stayed standing. Mr L/N stayed in the kitchen, at Y/N’s request.

“Can you tell us what you remember about Riley?” Rossi began.

“Not very much, I don’t really remember much about school.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Spencer blurted, “Well, I do.”

Derek glanced back at him with a look that just screamed “shut the hell up”. It seemed to cut down Y/N’s resolve, their jaw quivering.

“Sorry, can you give me a moment?” They stood up quick, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor as they walked just as fast to the kitchen. Through the open door, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer watched Y/N grab a glass from the open dishwasher. The water from the tap hit the bottom of the glass harsh, crashing out like a wave of the ocean hitting a cliff. Y/N didn’t seem to care. Their hand dripped water onto the surface as they chugged back some of the drink before returning to the table with a topped-up glass.

“Are you alright?” Rossi inquired, leaning closer to Y/N.

They answered wearily, “Fine, just feeling woozy.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, you’re a writer too. My mom reads your stuff before bed.”

“Bit of an odd nightcap,” Rossi said with a little chuckle.

Y/N shared that smile for the briefest of moments, replying “You’re telling me.”

From their pocket, they pulled out some painkillers, popping them back with a slug of water then speaking again. “I remember Riley was smaller than me. Still figuring out coordination, but he liked to play chase. I know he was killed; I didn’t find out how until I looked into it last year.”

“Why did you look into it?” Rossi gently probed.

Y/N rubbed two fingers back and forth across their head as they spoke, “I was back here, I felt sick so I went for a walk in the park, and I just remembered him tripping over while trying to tag me. No one ever told me what happened, just that he had to go away. I wanted to know what happened to him.”

“Are you sick often?” Derek asked suddenly, his voice soft to match Rossi. Spencer grimaced at the treatment Y/N was receiving but said nothing.

“Headaches and stomach aches mostly.”

“You get them whenever you come home?”

“I do. Figured I was allergic to something but never figured out what.”

That would have to be a very quick response, like a dog allergy. And coincidental, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until they saw Spencer.

“Y/N?” called their father, “Can you come here a moment please?”

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Derek and Y/N was out of the room. Derek pivoted in his chair to include Spencer in his theory, “I think they know something, but they don’t know they know it. I think they repressed this memory like you did, Spencer. We should take him to the therapist, see if we can jog his memory.”

“You can’t be serious,” Spencer covered his face with his hands, dragging them down with irritation.

Derek was persistent though, “Spencer, like it or not, Y/N’s linked to this investigation. Put aside your differences for a moment, please.”

Spencer all but squawked, “Put aside my differences?”

“You have brought a lot of bias to this case. Let us at least pursue this lead.”

“Sorry,” Y/N interrupted Spencer’s retort, sitting back at the table, “He needed someone to get unhook the loft door. Mom usually does it.”

“That’s alright.” Rossi waved a hand dismissively. Once Y/N accepted that, he moved in with Derek’s suggestion, “You know, some people have strong physical reactions to memories, trauma. Maybe you’re not getting sick. You’re rejecting something.”

“Rejecting?” repeated Y/N. There was no doubt in their voice, more cautious curiosity.

Derek nodded, “A memory, repressing it, and your body has linked the physical responses to your home. We think it has something to do with this case, and we’d like to see if we can retrieve any memories you might have. Would you be alright to come with us?”

“Yeah,” said Y/N, though they didn’t sound too certain, “Yeah sure.”

The resigned, too tired look on their face, and Spencer felt a tug in his chest. A longing to see Y/N smile like they had when they first entered the house. He’d rather hate someone who was happy than someone who suffered the same as him.

Leaving the house, Spencer took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Spencer?”

He ignored Y/N’s voice for a moment, but he couldn’t disregard Y/N standing in front of him and speaking again, “Spencer, can we talk please?”

“I’m busy,” He said, already walking off as he pretended to call someone, “Hey Garcia.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Hold onto my hand, use it as an anchor, and squeeze when you feel fear.” Doctor Mohikian accepted Y/N’s hand on her wrist and their silence nod as they lay back on the same couch Spencer had been just hours before.

“I want you to think back to your childhood, back to when you were five. You’re at the park, your parents are on a bench watching nearby to keep you safe. What do you see?”

“Spencer Reid.”

Derek and Rossi glanced at Spencer, who did not react. They kept quiet so that Y/N could immerse themselves in the hypnosis.

“What’s he doing?” Doctor Mohikian continued.

“Teaching me chess.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Sat on opposite sides of the table, Spencer and Y/N’s eyes were glued to the chess pieces that were neatly organised between them. Spencer was thinking strategy. He could not say the same for his companion Y/N. They reached a hand out and hovered over the pieces before finally selecting their last knight.

Their tongue clicked as Y/N trotted the piece on the spot.

“What’s this one again?”

“The knight,” Spencer recited, “It moves two spaces up, down, left or right, and another step perpendicular to the first direction.”

“Brave creatures riding into battle,” Y/N narrated before continuing their clip-clopping to its new position, “Pawns in the game of war.”

Spencer didn’t understand how they were coming up with this whilst playing. Well, actually, he did. Because Y/N was clearly not playing to win. They were playing for the best possible story.

“Where do you think this story will end?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” said Y/N, pushing back the sleeves of their white cardigan, “Come on, you can tell me, with your magic powers.”

“It’s not magic. It’s logic.”

“That’s magic to me,”

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer decided that he should give his friend the information they sought: “I see checkmate in fifteen moves.”

“See? Magic! The gift of sight!” crowed Y/N, clapping their hands together. The cardigan sleeves fell back in place as they did so. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up; he dropped his head so he could smile in privacy while Y/N began to decide their next move.

“How’s your mommy today?”

Shrugging, Spencer said, “Better than normal. But that means a bad day is around the corner.”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Do you want another ice cream? I got more birthday money.”

“No thank you.” Spencer moved the piece but was immediately intercepted by Y/N, “You’re getting better.”

“Fank you.”

“You’ll have to wait longer to beat me though.” And he snatched Y/N’s knight away, just as planned and much to Y/N’s dismay.

A new voice from their left spoke, “Hey you’re pretty good.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Y/N’s grip tightened on Doctor Mohikian’s wrist, “Someone’s with us.”

“Who do you see?” Doctor Mohikian asked patiently.

“A man. He’s asking us if he can watch us play, listen to the story.”

“Do you want him to stay?”

“No,” Y/N flinched, “But Spencer keeps talking to him. The man won’t go away.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe, Y/N.”

Y/N flinched again, this time letting out a whimper, “He’s on the floor.”

“Spencer is?”

“No, the man.”

“What’s he doing on the floor?”

“He’s,” Y/N began panting, their face tensing and body jerking, “I can’t get to him. There’s glass in the way and the ground is shaking.”

“Y/N.”

“I can’t look, I’ll be sick! Whenever I see them, sick.”

“OK, you’re going to wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Their eyes snapped open with the click of the fingers and Y/N leapt out of Doctor Mohikian’s couch. Their head aimed over the bin by the door and they retched. Nothing came up but their stomach continued to squeeze up

Spencer fidgeted in his seat, trying his best not to look at Y/N. The choice words of the session, three in particular, wrapped around his head.

“Floor”.

Y/N had seen Gary Michaels inside, somewhere that wasn’t the park.

“Glass”.

A window, Y/N was watching what Gary Michaels was doing.

“Sick”.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!”

“Them”.

It wasn’t just Michaels in the room alone. They had been a witness to his murder.

Derek’s movement to help Y/N took Spencer out of his analysis. Sweaty, Y/N was led back to the couch, the bin between their legs, head lolling forward. Spencer tried to move beside them for questioning, but Y/N winced and began heaving again. He felt that ache in his chest again. He was causing this and nothing he could do would change that. Not until they both knew what happened to Riley and Y/N got help through it.

“What did you see, Y/N?” Derek asked as he replaced Spencer’s spot beside them.

With watering eyes, Y/N looked at Spencer, “The man we played with, he was on the floor. His head – thank you.” They accepted the water from Doctor Mohikian, gulping some back, “It was smashed in.”

The three agents left the room, Doctor Mohikian following after Y/N left to get some air.

“It’s logical to assume that Y/N tied that sickness, that repulsion because of what they thought they saw your mother be involved with, to you and your family,” Doctor Mohikian evaluated.

Interrupting again, Spencer stammered his way through his analysis, “That’s why they avoided me. They associated me with being ill. It’s probably also why they ran away so much; they had to get away from this horrible feeling they had associated with their home.”

Doctor Mohikian shook her head, “We won’t be able to use this in court, I told you when we started.”

Derek’s phone started to ring. As he answered, Spencer somehow managed to slip away for long enough to find Y/N. They were leaning against the ramp’s railing in front of the practice, their body lifting and slumping with each deep breath they took. Against his better judgement, he moved toward them.

“Y/N? Can I have your number?”

The breathing slowed again.

“I need it to call you with an update on the situation as soon as we get one.”

Without looking up, Y/N pulled out their phone and handed it over to Spencer. He punched his number in a new contact, using this time to gather the courage to maybe say something else. The hurt and pain went beyond him now. Y/N was suffering and had been much longer than he had.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, hoping that his didn’t add to the illness, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Their head still down, Y/N croaked, “You too, Spencer.”

“Spencer, get over here! We got a match on a print on Michaels’ body!”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“What makes you think Gary Michaels killed your boy?”

“He admitted it,” Lou Jenkins said, as monotonous as he had been for the last fifteen minutes of the interrogation.

Derek’s quickfire was on Jenkins instantly, “You beat a guy with a baseball bat, he's going to admit to a lot of things. How do you know he was the right guy?”

“I know. He approached another kid in the neighbourhood.”

“And how do you know that?

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Jenkins leant back in his chair, “That's all I'm going to say on the subject.”

“Who was it?” Spencer suddenly spoke up.

Caught off guard at his interjection, Jenkins awkwardly parroted himself, “I told you that's all I'm going to say on the sub—"

Reid slammed his hands on the table, getting right up in Lou’s face, “Who was it?”

The door opened, Detective Hyde appeared, “Agent Reid?”

“Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective,” shouted Spencer, “This is not your case anymore!”

Once again, he was cut off. This time, by the arrival of his own mother, Diana, and her admission of guilt: “Spencer, it was me”.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Of all the things this case had brought him, Spencer least expected to be sitting in a room with his mother and father together for the first time in years. To have Diana explain to him how she was involved in a child’s murder was also up there with the unthinkable.

But he stayed quiet and listened to her confession.

The reveal that she had seen Gary Michaels playing chess with him and Y/N, that she and got a feeling that something was wrong before anything had even happened, opened the story. Lou Jenkins’ involvement was next on the menu. Two days after the chess game, he drove Diana to Michaels’ house, disclosed his history of child abuse, and demanded she leave while he went into the house.

Upon reaching the point where she entered the house, Diana struggled with her words. William reached over and took her hand.

She described seeing Lou with the bat, standing over the body, slipping in the pool of blood, finding Y/N standing in the window and their face, their little face as innocent as the white cardigan that covered their shoulders and absorbed the blood from Diana’s hands as she shook their shoulders.

“And the rest... It's all dark after that.”

William continued for her. Diana came home and brought Y/N with her. Eventually he came to understand what had happened and decided that nobody could ever know.

“You were burning her bloody clothes,” Spencer concluded.

His father nodded, “But the knowing, you can't burn that away. It changes everything.”

“You paid for Y/N to go to therapy.”

William didn’t seem surprised that Spencer knew this, going straight into explaining: “They went into a dissociative fugue state after seeing what Lou had done. When Diana brought them home, they were just stiff. I asked them for their home number, to call their parents, but they started screaming and throwing up. We had to take them to the police station.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief, “They needed help, but their parents couldn’t afford it. And they didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t drag another person into this, Spencer.”

“Is this why you left?”

“I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much.”

“You could have come back. Could have started over.”

“I didn't know how to take care of you anymore. When I lost that confidence, there was no going back. What's done is done.”

“At least now you know the truth,” Diana made an effort to smile at her son

Choking on his words and the overwhelming remorse he felt, Spencer refused to look at his parents any longer, “I was wrong about everything. I'm sorry.”

And William said something that Spencer had been waiting for, for a long time, “I am, too, Spencer.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

All of this was repeated when Spencer walked with Y/N through their old park the following day. Filling the final gaps in the memory would hopefully bring some respite to them both. Or at least maybe something to start the recovery process, easing Y/N’s sickness and Spencer’s pain.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour during this case,” Spencer sniffed, “When you said we made you sick, back when we were four, I thought you had seen my mom during one of her episodes and thought she was a freak, like everyone else.”

That stopped Y/N in their tracks, their hands coming up to cover their mouth, their eyes misty, “Oh Spencer, I’m sorry too, I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much pain.”

Spencer’s hands rushed up as if to create belated damage control, “It’s ok! I hurt you too. I made you sick.”

“That wasn’t your fault though.”

“It wasn’t yours either. We were kids.”

Almost pedantic, stropping, like a child again, Y/N moaned, “It’s all been such a waste. We could have been friends all this time!”

“We can be friends now,” Spencer pushed his hands down into his pockets to stop them flailing about anymore. His sentence was phrased more like a question.

One that Y/N gladly answered, “I would like really that.”

Sitting in the reply for a moment, Spencer followed up on his concerns, “How are you feeling? I mean, are you feeling sick again?”

“A bit, but I can handle it.”

Spencer could not see any changes in their behaviour from the day before. So obviously they were lying about that. But he didn’t protest. The lie meant Y/N wanted to stay with him, which was good - Spencer wanted that too.

They kept walking, only in silence for half a minute before Spencer broke it again, “I read your books last night.”

“Yeah?”

“‘The Siege of the Lost Faiths’ in Rogue’s Mask, that was our first game of chess.”

“It had by far the best narrative,” Y/N dragged their shoe a little on the grass before coming to a stop, “Do you still play?”

“All the time.”

They nodded over to where the old chess tables still stood, “Fancy a game before you go?”

Spencer grinned, “Just promise that this is the only setting where we’ll be on conflicting sides from now on.”

“Promise.”

Brushing the debris from the table, they both took their places opposite each other. From Y/N’s bag was revealed a box, spilling their painted chess pieces across the board. Remembering how they had stood in Y/N’s room, Spencer helped to set up the match. They took their seats opposite one another. Y/N was the green side, Spencer the purple.

Spencer moved first. After a second’s deliberation, Y/n moved their pawn.

“Isn’t there a story with this one?” Spencer said, an implicated teasing in his tone despite his shyness.

With an equally bashful eye roll, Y/N started their new story, “First begins the battle with the royals on both sides sending intrepid messengers to meet and pass along their deeds.”

Spencer took Y/N’s pawn. As he lifted their piece away, he spoke quietly, “One not as intrepid as the other.”

A gasp dropped from Y/N’s smile. He had never joined in the narrative telling before, always too taken up in the match to invest in whatever story they spun.

“He’s not a coward,” They said, still smiling, much to Spencer’s delight, “Prisoner’s dilemma, he just couldn’t trust the other with his life.”

“Did they know each other before this battle?”

“Yes,” Y/N moved a knight across, stealing Spencer’s pawn, “They were brothers who once shared a crib and now they share a grave.”

Throughout the game, Y/N continued the story with Spencer asking questions just to hear them talk more. The maturity of the stories had grown just as Y/N’s voice had. They knuckled their eyes a few times, but they didn’t complain about the headache.

“I know what endings you like,” Spencer moved his rook, “Checkmate in five.”

Y/N didn’t seem to mind that little dig, “This’ll have to be a short story instead then.”

Spencer’s next sentence got away from him, trailing off the closer he got to the end of it, “You could write an anthology series, if we see each other again and play more games.”

Where Spencer’s voice disappeared, Y/N’s returned with invigoration, “That’s not a half bad idea, Spencer.”

The checkmate never came. Y/N diverted the ending into a draw.

“A peace treaty has been forged by the survivors, because too many lives have been lost to justify this violence anymore. If only they realised sooner that no blood had to be shed for peace to rule the lands.” And they smiled at Spencer, clearly chuffed as they leaned back in their chair, “Bit of an upgrade from the horse noises, I’ll say.”

Spencer rotated the purple knight – the illusionist – between his thumb and forefinger, “I liked the horse noises.”

“You should have said during the match! I’d recreate them, for you.”

One by one, the pieces were placed back into their box until the last piece remained in Spencer’s palm: the knight or Soren the Illusionist, distractions and deceptions but he loved the tricks that delighted most of all. Just like Spencer with his magic tricks but a little to the left. The character was always one of Y/N’s favourites. Some solace away from the pain of thinking of who he was based on.

Y/N pushed Spencer’s hand away, closes his fist around it, “Keep him. He was made with you in mind anyway.”

The information sank in and Spencer’s nose wrinkled with the little smile on his face as he cupped the little Illusionist, “I’m Soren?”

Nodding, Y/N confirmed, “You’re Soren.”

“But what about your set though?”

“I can always make and paint another knight,” and Y/N tilted the piece upside down in Spencer’s hand, revealing the signature on the underside, “You and him are the originals, it’s only fair you stay together.”

In a moment of pure instinct and nostalgia, Spencer clicked his tongue as he twisted Soren in time with the noise. Y/N let out a burst of laughter that dragged the air out of Spencer’s chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?” He said, running out of breath very quickly as a result.

It had a similar effect on Y/N, “I thought you – don’t you have to get back to Virginia?”

“I have time for dinner. For you.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The bookstore was packed but the breath of the patrons was held as one. All eyes were watching the mini stage where a crouching figure lifted their head up slowly. A jump as the tension broke with the figure leaping up to their feet with a bang.

Y/N pushed up the brim of their cap. Snatching a deep green hoodie from the purple trunk – silver constellations painted on the sides – they swung it over their back before picking up the page where they had left off.

“Nasima looked up at Mason and said, ‘Well that was just unnecessary.’”

A burst of laughter shot through the pre-teens in the front row, spreading to the adolescents sitting further back who had grown up with the author’s other works, finally reaching the adults at the back where Spencer was fiddling with his cane. He adjusted the sleeve of his costume absentmindedly. He was just like everyone else in the room: captivated by how Y/N was so immersed in their reading.

They had just mimed kicking down a door, plus sound effects from their mouth. Swapping back and forth between the two conflicting characters arguing with one another, changing between the hoodie and the cap with every other line of dialogue and taking both off for the role of the narrator, it was certainly a workout.

An exaggerated breath was drawn into Y/N’s lungs, flopping over in a melodramatic state, which caused another laugh in the audience.

Spencer’s nose scrunched up as he grinned. He knew this was part of the scene; he’d seen Y/N rehearse this story in their sitting room. It was so much better to share this with an audience, for their reactions to fuel Y/N’s energy.

Y/N finished the short story A Battle of Bent Truths with a flourish, leaving the rest of the anthology for their audience to read in their own time. The kids were up on their feet first. Some of them were jumping up and down as they applauded with the rest of the shop. Y/N gave a big grin as they bowed, sweeping their cap off for extra drama.

There was a book signing and a photographer that followed, and Spencer waited patiently at the end of the queue, thankful that the store allowed him to bring a chair along with him. He was happy to entertain his godson and friends with a few tricks to pass the time.

“Another one please!” Henry jumped up and down when Spencer revealed his card.

A minor commotion arose by the photographer’s backdrop. There was a teenager was crying; she was clutching her copy of Untold Tales of Human Nature. Y/N was holding their shoulders, rubbing gently and speaking softly. Only half paying attention to his next trick, Spencer kept an eye on Y/N as they hugged the teenager, looking near tears themselves.

“Spencer?” J.J tapped him on the shoulder and Spencer realised that Henry was looking a little mad to have lost his godfather’s attention so easily.

“Sorry, Henry, can you pick another card please?”

When they reached the front of the queue, JJ went up first and took Henry and his pals up to see Y/N. They instantly recognised JJ and welcomed her with a tight hug. Henry was delighted to see his favourite babysitter and show them off to his school friends, boasting that they had read to him before today.

“They read me bits for bedtime, Mommy!”

“I know!” JJ tickled his cheek, “I read them to you too.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Mommy,”

Y/N gasped, dropping to their knees which made Spencer wince, “Henry, you wound me!”

Rossi approach next, knowing that once Spencer got to Y/N, they would not be left alone.

“You really know how to captivate an audience,” He kissed them on both cheeks, “Though don’t take offence if I don’t use the same tricks at my readings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! Thank you for coming.”

Y/N then caught Spencer’s eye and began meandering over to him with a smile they were desperately trying to stifle. Spencer rose from his chair, meeting Y/N in the middle.

“Hi, Spencer.”

With his free arm, Spencer flaunted his cloak, “Who is Spencer? I’m Soren the Illusionist!”

Giggles from his godson, his godson’s gang, his co-workers and friends, they almost caused Y/N to lose their composure. They held on just long enough to continue the banter.

“Oh, forgive me, you look so much like my boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, he must be very handsome,”

And Y/N burst into peals of laughter, waving their hands about, “OK, stop, stop, stop, I can’t.”

“Hey!” Spencer pretended to take offence, pouting as Y/N brought him into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” They kissed his cheek between giggles, “You are so very handsome.”

“To think you were once sick at the sight of me.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #r: gender neutral #wc: 5k+

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years

Text

You just have to keep trying (Sebastian Stan x reader)

You just have to keep trying

Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: eating disorder(various behaviors and ‘mantras’), negative self talk/worthlessness, panic attacks/anxiety

Word count: 4268

Summary: Sebastian and Reader are dating, and while Sebastian is away filming, some comments get to you. You start developing eating disorder behaviors, and a concerned friend reaches out to Sebastianw.

A/N: Sorry this took so long, it was really hard for me to write and I had to take a few days for myself before I could finish it. This one is really personal for me to write, and I don’t mean to be insensitive towards anyone. This is just written based on my personal experience and what I think would help me. If any of you are struggling with anything mentioned here and you need someone to talk to, relate to, or rant to, I’m all ears. This isn’t something to go through alone. Also I know this may seem like an unrealistic solution and it’s not always this easy, but this is fanfiction and I used some phrases that helped me. It’s often never as easy as reassurance, but it does help. Again, I’m sorry if this is triggering or insensitive to anyone out there, I just really enjoyed writing it and imagining someone caring as much as I wrote here. Stay safe.

----------------

It wasn’t easy dating an actor.

There was media attention, often unwanted, in every corner of your life. Interpretations of everything you did, said, and posted. Comments of your relationship, what you say, what you wear, what you also don’t say. Assumptions were made about your entire life and you just wanted to scream at them to shut up. They didn’t really know you, and they’d do anything for a headline.

But it was all worth it to you. You loved Sebastian very much, and wouldn’t trade what the two of you had for the world. He was everything you wanted. But the goddamn media were ruthless.

He told you to ignore it. And you tried and were successful for a while. But eventually hearing the same shit over and over again just ate away at you. Now it was easier to believe them than it was to believe yourself.

Somethings were less bothersome than others. You knew your love for Sebastian was real, and no headline ever made you doubt that. It was the critiques on you, and everything you did and said, that really got to you. Specifically when it was targeting your appearances.

You never had a problem with your confidence. It never really occurred to you that your appearances mattered or would matter, so you didn’t really focus on it. But it was different now. Suddenly everyone cares and is saying that you should look different, that you don’t deserve him, that you weren’t good enough. And on top of that there were the comments of everyone reading these articles and posts.

Currently you were scrolling through Instagram. Sebastian was God knows where shooting for a new movie. He had been gone for a few weeks and you weren’t sure when he was coming back. You were scrolling through a bunch of old photos of the two of you together. You loved all of these when they were taken and posted, but now was a completely different story.

More than half of the comments were negative, and 75% of those were directed towards you. You didn’t think it would bother you like it was, and you intended to only read a few before moving on. But it was a wormhole - as much as you wanted to stop reading you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

There were tears in your eyes but you didn’t really care. You wanted the honest truth of what people thought about you. Sebastian told you their opinions didn’t mean anything, but after a while you thought he was just being nice.

What does he even see in her?

What makes her so special?

God she’s disgusting

He could have anyone, why her?

Anyone else hate this chick as much as I do?

The last one had over 300 likes.

You finally put your phone down and got up, making your way into the bathroom. You studied yourself in the mirror, looking for every possible flaw that was there. And you found a lot of them. It hurt, but you needed to do this if things were going to get any better.

Your hips were too wide, waist not pulled taut enough, a bit of flab here, too thin there… everything seemed out of proportion to you. Your skin was a mess, your hair was flat and dull, it just seemed like everything was wrong. No wonder people were tearing you apart and saying you weren’t good enough. They were right.

This was the start of something very new for you. You decided to take things into your own hands, make yourself better. You had heard how celebrities went on crazy diets to lose weight for a role, and you wound up pulling inspiration from them. It started fairly small and almost harmless. You were counting calories and doing more cardio. It was fine.

But then it wasn’t.

It became much too addicting, much too fast. It started slowly. There was one day where you had an extremely busy schedule and you ended up forgetting to eat and before you knew it, it was 9 pm. You really did intend to eat something, but then it occurred to you that you could just...go to bed.

You started skipping meals, loving the way that hunger made you feel. You felt more focused, more alert, just overall stronger. You kept telling yourself that hunger makes you stronger, and that eating was for the weak. And you wanted to prove everyone wrong, and if denying some hunger was the way to do that then so be it.

Sometimes you would indulge in your body’s cries for help, eating anything you could. But as soon as you realized what you were doing, panic would overtake you. The first time you frantically tried to find an option, which eventually led you to the bathroom hunched over the toilet. After that you threw up anything you ended up eating, no matter how small.

You took weight loss inspiration quotes to a dangerous level. Anytime you would walk to the fridge you would tell yourself that ‘fat lasts longer than flavor,’ or ‘minutes on the lips forever on the hips’. After that it wasn’t that hard to walk away.

You were working out a lot more too, and found that addicting. You pushed yourself until you basically fell over from exhaustion. Then you would give yourself a break. But absolutely no rest days. You didn’t deserve them. Not yet, at least.

You stopped going out with your friends. They would invite you to a bar or dinner but you would always decline. It was easier that way. You were losing weight of course, and rapidly at that. You didn’t see it, you saw things that still needed work. But your hair was beginning to fall out, you were always tired, and just generally felt like shit. You were never overweight in the first place, so your ribs were beginning to just out, and you could see your hip bones for the first time in your life. But this only egged you on. It should have scared you, but you liked it. You thought it was progress.

You hadn’t seen anyone in weeks, and you had been doing this to yourself for months. You would still talk to Sebastian on the phone most days, and text on the days you didn’t. You didn’t dare tell him about any of this for fear he would try to stop you. You weren’t good enough yet. That was all that you really wanted. You would give everything you had just to feel like you were good enough.

Eventually, your friends started getting really concerned. Denying a girl’s night here and there was nothing to worry about, but weeks of near radio silence prompted them to come and check on you. One day they knocked on your door, and you padded over to it, still in your workout gear.

They nearly passed out when they saw you.

You were gaunt, dark circles under your eyes, pale, and just...smaller than you were. You weren’t hiding behind your usual baggy clothes that kept you warm, exposing how much weight you had lost. You thought everything was normal, but they were absolutely freaking out. This wasn’t you.

“Are you okay?” y/b/f/n asked after a few moments of stunned silence.

You shrugged. “Yeah. why wouldn’t I be?”

They swallowed. “Y/n, you look...sick.”

You rolled your eyes, frustrated. “Gee, thanks.” That did absolutely nothing for your self esteem. “Look, I’m fine and I have work to do. So thank you, but please just leave.” You shut the door on them.

They stood there stunned for a few minutes outside the door, worried as hell about you. Eventually they decided to leave, but they couldn’t stop thinking about you. They sat in their car, trying to think of what to do. But then they remembered something.

A few years ago when the two of you were getting serious, Sebastian had given them his phone number in case something happened to you while he was away. They had never had to use it before, but now seemed like an appropriate time. They scrolled through their contacts until they found him, and started typing.

‘Hey this is y/b/f/n. Something’s wrong with y/n.’

Within a couple of minutes, he called back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry filling his voice.

They sighed. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t heard or seen her in a few weeks and I went to check on her today and she’s just…” they shook their head. “She’s lost a lot of weight. She looks sick, Sebastian. I don’t know what’s going on but I barely recognized her when she opened that door.”

On the other side of the line, Sebastian was freaking out. He was in between takes on set, but he walked off to a more private place to have this conversation. “Did you try to talk to her?”

“She said she was fine and shut the door.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. Sighing, he said “Alright. I’ll tell the director something came up. I’ll be there tomorrow. Thank you, y/b/f/n.”

“Thank you.”

--------------------------------------------

The day continued normally for you. You worked out some more, busied yourself with different things around the house, avoided eating like it was poison. Your usual routine. You hated what you were doing to yourself. You wanted to stop but you just didn’t think that was an option yet. You thought you had to get to a certain image, a certain weight, or just reach some kind of destination before you tried to change. But you weren’t there yet.

You tried to sleep, couldn’t sleep, tried again, and then eventually gave up and settled for the 1 hour you were able to get. You got ready for your day as normal: workout gear and to the gym. When you came home, you showered and went to lie down again. You were so exhausted but you didn’t feel like there was anything you could do.

You don’t know how long you were there, but the sound of a door closing brought you back into awareness. You sat up, confused as to who was here. Sebastian always told you when he was coming home.

“Y/n?”

You perked up, knowing it was Sebastian’s voice. You practically ran into the main room to hug him. He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, immediately stiffening. “Oh my God,” he whispered. Underneath your sweater he could feel your bones jutting out and you were smaller than he remembered. He had only been gone for about 2 months, what the hell had happened?

He pulled back a lot sooner than you would have liked. But when you looked at his face, you were surprised to see him looking at you extremely concerned. “What’s wrong Seb?”

He looked you up and down and shook his head a little “What happened to you?”

You smiled a little, oblivious. “What do you mean?”

“You - you’ve lost so much weight. You look sick, yn, just - what the hell happened?”

You looked away for a second, stepping back and crossing your arms. You didn't know what to say. Sebastian stepped forward and grabbed both your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. Gently but firmly, he asked again “Y/n, tell me what happened.”

You shifted your gaze away from him. “I just wanted to be better.”

Sebastian felt his body go cold. “When was the last time you ate?” You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, not knowing what to tell him. You didn’t even know the answer yourself. He sighed. “This isn’t because of some stupid reporter, is it?”

Your lack of words and the tensing of your body was enough of an answer for him. “You know that they are trained to rip people apart? They don’t know what it’s making you feel. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because I don’t fucking deserve you! You could literally have anyone you wanted, I just don’t understand why you chose me! I don’t understand why you’d want me, just….” you shook your head. “I’m not good enough.”

He stayed silent for a few moments, not knowing what you meant. He had no idea you felt this down on yourself. “What do you mean?”

You looked away from him again. “Sometimes I just don’t understand. You’re absolutely perfect in every single way and then I'm just here. I don’t get why or how you could love me.”

He closed the space between the two of you and hugged you again, firmly but not as tightly as usual. He was afraid he would hurt you. He felt tears pricking his eyes as well. His girl, his y/n, was wasting away because she didn’t feel good enough for him, when usually he thought it was the opposite. It broke his heart knowing that you had done this to yourself for him or some ignorant reporter. You were crying because you thought this would be the end of it. You didn’t think it was possible for him to love you after something like this.

“Babe, listen to me. I need you to hear me out here. I love you so much. I love you for who you are, who you were, and everything you could be. And nothing would ever change that. You are absolutely perfect to me no matter what. And because of that it breaks my heart to know what you’ve been doing to yourself. You don’t have to change, especially not for me. Hurting yourself like this cannot be an option, okay?”

Tears had begun to fall from his eyes and you were shaking in his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. You felt him shake his head before he said “You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?”

Your heart was melting. “Why are you so nice to me?” you asked quietly.

He let out a shaky breath, trying his best to hold it together for you. “Because I love you more than anything. And I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to you.”

You buried your face further into his chest, letting out another sob. He tightened his grip on you and kissed the top off your head, scared you would disappear at any second. He swallowed back his own tears, knowing he needed to be the strong one here.

“Please, y/n, let me help you.”

You nodded into his chest, feeling a sickening sense of relief and terror. To be honest you were mostly petrified as to what was to come. You had spent months telling yourself you deserve to starve, and you still believed most of it. You knew deep down it was a problem and you wanted to let Sebastian help you, but you were so scared of disappointing him or yourself.

By this point, it was early afternoon. The two of you spent a few hours on the couch, you curled up to him and his arms protectively around you. He kept telling you how much he loved you and how you were beautiful, and you would do your best to believe him and ignore the voice in your head telling you it was all a lie. In all honesty you got more distracted as time went on. You knew he would want to make you dinner and you couldn’t ignore the anxiety growing more as the time went on.

You weren’t going to bring it up, and you were just waiting for him to. He was nervous to bring it up too. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or trigger you, but there was no way that he could let you skip another meal. You had already gone far too long without eating anything. He shifted in his seat and tensed a little, and you sighed, knowing what was coming.

“So...uh..”

“I don’t know,” you finished for him. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m not sure what I’d want or even could eat. It’s so stupid trying to explain it to someone else…” you shook your head and closed your eyes. “It makes sense in my head but it doesn’t when I say it out loud.”

He sighed a little, brushing your hair with one of his hands. “It can be something small,” he said gently. “I’ll be here the whole time.”

You felt tears in your eyes again as you brought your hand to your stomach, running it down your ribcage, feeling the divots. It was a nervous habit you had developed whenever you thought about eating, and you cursed yourself for doing it now. “It’s embarrassing Seb.” you said quietly.

Sebastian didn’t stop his movements, looking down at you. “What can I do to make it better?” he asked, feeling so helpless in this situation. He wanted to take all of your pain away but there isn’t a quick way to heal the mind. He had learned that himself a long time ago. You shrugged, not knowing the answer yourself.

You took a deep breath. “Nothing’s going to be easy Seb. I think it’d just be easier if you chose something and then just sit with me or something. I don’t know… God I feel like an idiot right now -”

“Hey,” Sebastian stopped you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever you need babe.” He gave you a smile before he stood up, and you curled into the corner of the couch, bringing your knees to your chest. Your heart was pounding and your mind was racing. You had no idea how you were going to be able to do this, you could barely eat on your own out of shame, how were you expecting to eat in front of the man you loved?

Meanwhile, Sebastian was trying to think of something that would be easiest for you to eat while still providing sustenance. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but he also didn’t want to enable you.

Eventually he came back out with two plates of food, one holding less than the other. (Insert whatever you want here for the meal). He gave the smaller portion to you with a small smile and you were trying your best to hide the trembling of your hand as you took it from him. You ended up counting the calories with the blink of an eye before you could stop yourself, and cursed your mind because you didn’t think that there was a way that you could eat that much. Even if you knew logically you burned more calories in your workout that morning.

You begna bouncing your leg up and down, tears building once again. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you couldn't stop the anxiety building inside you. “I’m sorry,” you said shaking your head and covering your mouth. Your breathing was becoming uneven, and your heart rate was increasing as well. Which only made you more anxious.

Sebastian moved both plates out of the way before wrapping his arms around you again. You were so embarrassed, having an anxiety attack around something as stupid as food. You felt so weak and stupid. Your leg was moving uncontrollably at this point, and you barely had any control over your breathing anymore. Your hands balled into fists and you buried your head into his chest out of shame.

You kept trying to spit out apologies but you couldn’t catch your breath long enough to do so. He just tightened his arms around you, hushing you whenever you tried to speak. “Y/n I need you to try to breathe with me, can you try that? Just try to match mine.” He started taking deep breaths, chest rising and falling slowly and you tried your best to match his. It took a few minutes but eventually your breathing evened out. Once the panic had washed away you started crying harder, more out of shame and embarrassment than anything else.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s so stupid -”

“It’s not stupid y/n.” he said gently but firmly. “It’s okay to be anxious.”

You shook your head against his chest. “Not when it’s about something as silly as food.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. Thoughts don’t make sense all the time, but that doesn’t make them fact. You’re just having a rough time right now, but beating yourself up over it is only going to make it harder.”

God, you love this man.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, him rubbing a hand through your hair gently like before. He knew you had always liked that. You closed your eyes, wanting this moment to go on forever, but knowing you would have to eat something at some point.

“Do you think you could try to eat something? Please?”

You took a deep breath before nodding again, pulling away from him. You grabbed your plate and played around with it for a minute or so before you began eating. You wanted to make Sebastian happy, but you were terrified as well. You didn’t exactly know why, logically speaking. You had thoughts running through your mind of weight gain, but you also knew logically that one meal wouldn’t cause it, and that you were too skinny anyways.

You knew that logically. But your mind wasn’t exactly a logical place to be right now.

You weren’t able to eat everything, but you ate more than you thought you would be able. To. you apologized for the nth time that night, and Sebastian stopped you before you could finish. “Don’t be. I’m proud of you.” he said with a smile as he brought the plates to the kitchen. He was nervous to say the least. You hadn’t eaten much, but again, it was a start. Everyone needs to start somewhere.

He hadn’t told you that he had come home in the middle of shooting to check on you. He didn’t tell you that he had initially said he’d be gone for a week before pushing it back even further, realizing you needed him at the moment. You were more important to him, and he honestly didn’t care if he got fired. He’d find another job at some point.

He stayed with you for the next few weeks, helping you in every aspect. He made sure you deleted all social media apps on your phone, so you weren’t inclined to look at toxic comments. He helped you tone down your time in the gym and take rest days. He made sure you ate something at each meal. It started out small, and gradually he helped you to eat more. He sat with you through all the panic attacks and tears, and the times you would lash out at him. He never took it personally.

There were slip ups. Times where you snuck out at night to go for a run, or when you would find yourself throwing up after the anxiety got to be too much. He wouldn’t get angry with you, just offer you a sad smile and hug you. You would apologize and he would assure you it wasn’t your fault. “It’s not going to be perfect, you just have to keep trying.”

He would never stop telling you that you were beautiful and how much he loved you. You couldn’t help but feel like a burden to him at first, but as time went on you began to believe him more and more.

Months later and it was still a daily struggle. You had bad days, slip ups, and days where you just wanted to quit. But Sebastian never left your side through all of it, and eventually you were able to pull yourself out of your own darkness. You were able to catch yourself in your negative thoughts before you descended too far down the wormhole. You were starting to feel happy again, more like who you had been.

The two of you were watching a movie, laughing over some funny line that had been said. There was popcorn in between the two of you and you just felt happy. After a few moments, you looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He smiled back down at you. “For what?”

“Helping me believe in myself again.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian x reader #comfort #eatingdisordercomfort #tw eating disorder #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #tw anorexia #tw self hate #sebastian stan comfort #fluff #imagine

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gstqaobc · 4 years

Link

'I still don't believe Meghan': Piers Morgan tweets defiant Churchill message and says he stands by view that saw him quit GMB - as Susanna Reid tells morning viewers 'it's going to be very different' without him

Ranvir Singh will host Good Morning Britain with Susanna Reid today - the day after Piers Morgan stormed off

Mr Morgan faced a social media campaign over comments he made about Harry and Meghan's interview

He faced a huge online backlash after he said he 'didn't believe a word' of the Duke and Duchess' Oprah talk

Twitter users responded by sharing links to Ofcom and gave instructions on how to complain to TV regulator

Ofcom today announced it was launching an investigation following the raft of complaints from Twitter users

MailOnline editor at large, who has helped show to record ratings, had blazing row with Alex Beresford

They were discussing the Sussexes' interview with Oprah, where the couple accused Royal Family of racism

Piers Morgan today doubled down after quitting Good Morning Britain by tweeting that he still doesn't believe any of Meghan's incendiary claims to Oprah in a defiant message sent as the show began without him with Strictly star Ranvir Singh in his chair.Susanna Reid admitted it will be a 'very different' programme without her co-star of five years and told viewers this morning that he had been a 'voice for many of you' through Brexit and the coronavirus pandemic.Mr Morgan sensationally quit the show on the day it scored record ratings after he told viewers he 'didn't believe a word she [Meghan] said' to Oprah and branded her 'Princess Pinocchio' after an interview where the Duchess said she was suicidal while five months pregnant and accused the Royal Family of racism. His views sparked more than 41,000 complaints made to Ofcom.

Just after the show began at 6am this morning he tweeted to his 7.8million followers: 'On Monday, I said I didn’t believe Meghan Markle in her Oprah interview. I’ve had time to reflect on this opinion, and I still don’t. If you did, OK. Freedom of speech is a hill I’m happy to die on. Thanks for all the love, and hate. I’m off to spend more time with my opinions'.

He also shared a quote by Britain's greatest prime minister Winston Churchill, which said: 'Some people's idea of free speech is that they are free to say what they like but if anyone else says anything back, that is an outrage'.

On an extraordinary day for the show he also walked off set live on air after the show's weatherman Alex Beresford accused him of unfairly 'trashing' Meghan, branding him 'diabolical' and saying: 'I'm sorry but Piers just spouts off on a regular basis and we have to sit there and listen'. Mr Beresford was not on screen today, with Laura Tobin presenting the GMB weather this morning.

Hours later Mr Morgan quit, with his supporters defending his views and claiming his exit is more bad news for free speech and a sad indictment of cancel culture in Britain after critics including Labour MP Dawn Butler encouraged people to complain to ITV and Ofcom. Others have questioned whether GMB's viewing figures will hold-up without its star, who helped add a million new viewers in his time on the show.

After Ranvir Singh, a GMB reporter and star of Strictly last year, stepped in for Piers today, Susanna then gave a short speech on the tumultuous events of the past 24 hours.

Ms Reid said: 'A number of people will know the news and many of you will not and will be surprised that Piers Morgan is not here this morning. Now, Piers and I have disagreed on many things and that dynamic was one of the things viewers loved about the programme.

'He is without doubt an outspoken, challenging, opinionated, disruptive broadcaster. He has many critics and he has many fans. You will know that I disagreed with him about Meghan's interview. He himself clarified his comments about her mental health on the show yesterday.'

Reid said there are 'many voices' on Good Morning Britain and 'everyone has their say'. She added: 'But now Piers has decided to leave the programme. Some of you may cheer and others may boo.

'He has been my presenting partner, Monday to Wednesday, for more than five years and during Brexit and the pandemic and other issues, he has been a voice for many of you and a voice that many of you have railed against.

'It is certainly going to be very different but shows go on and so on we go.'

Ranvir Singh, Reid's co-presenter for the morning, replied: 'Well said.' She described Morgan as a 'big character' and said 'many viewers will be absolutely gutted'. Singh called Morgan 'Marmite' and acknowledged his role in Good Morning Britain's success. Ms Singh is amongst the favourites to take the job, but said: 'I was here anyway, don't read anything into this, I was here anyway. I've shifted seats on this brand new desk'.

It came after 55-year-old Mr Morgan shocked viewers by walking off camera during a heated on-air row with weatherman Alex Beresford, saying 'I'm done with this' after being challenged on his position of the Duke and Duchess by his co-star. Afterwards ITV CEO Carolyn McCall - who formerly worked for the left-wing Guardian newspaper - said that the broadcaster's media and entertainment MD Kevin Lygo was speaking to Mr Morgan.And last night it was announced that Mr Morgan had quit the hugely popular ITV show - which he co-hosted with Susanna Reid.An ITV spokesman told MailOnline: 'Following discussions with ITV, Piers Morgan has decided now is the time to leave Good Morning Britain. ITV has accepted this decision and has nothing further to add.'It is understood Mr Morgan had been asked to apologise for his remarks which had been criticised by mental health campaigners but had declined.It brings to an end his six-year long association with the breakfast show, which he originally joined as a guest host in 2015, during which time he has made it must-see TV with a strong of exclusives and his strident opinions.Ironically it came the day after GMB recorded its highest ever viewing figures in the wake of Megan Markle's blockbuster Oprah Winfrey interview.It also came on the day that he had followed up with an agenda-setting interview with her father Thomas in which Mr Markle had taken aim at 'snotty' Harry, defended the British people and Royals against her claims of racism and revealed that he felt she had betrayed him, not the other way around.Earlier Morgan, who this evening Tweeted a picture of himself with former manager David Ferriter and the message 'trust your gut', also addressed his previous comments regarding the Duchess's mental health.Yesterday, he was criticised by the charity, Mind, after saying he 'didn't believe a word she said'. I wouldn't believe it if she read me a weather report,' he added.Today he addressed these remarks and said: 'When we talked about this yesterday I said as an all-encompassing thing I don't believe what Meghan Markle is saying generally in this interview and I still have serious concerns about the veracity of a lot of what she said.'But let me just state for the record on my position on mental illness and on suicide.'On mental illness and suicide these are clearly extremely serious things and should be taken extremely seriously and if someone is feeling that way they should get the treatment and the help they need every time. Every time.'And if they belong to an institution like the Royal family and they go and seek that help they should absolutely be given it.'It's not for me to question if she felt suicidal, I am not in her mind and that is for her to say.'My real concern was a disbelief frankly and I'm prepared to be proven wrong on this and if I'm wrong it is a scandal, that she went to a senior member of the Royal household and told them she was suicidal and was told she could not have any help because it would be a bad look for the family.'If that is true a) that person should be fired and b) The Royal family have serious questions that need to be answered.'But it was not enough to stop a wildfire social media campaign against him that resulted in 41,000 complaints to TV watchdog Ofcom by last night who announced they had launched a probe under their 'harms' code. The campaign featured an avalanche of tweets which criticised the host and supporting Meghan - some sharing direct links to the Ofcom complaints page. Among those launching criticism at Morgan were Labour MP Dawn Butler, who copied in the Twitter page of ITV to her Tweet.

In her social media post, which shared a comment from Mind criticising Morgan's remarks, she asked: '@ITV what have you decided to do?'Another Twitter user said: 'It took me about seven minutes to complain to fill in the Ofcom online form to complain about Piers Morgan's disgusting behaviour on mental health and race issues. It's not much, but if enough people complain they have to do something!' One Twitter user - who said: 'I am determined to get Piers off GMB Lolz. Which petitions do I need to sign?' - received a response with a link to the Ofcom complaints page.Their decision to act was in stark contrast to what happened with 24,500 people complained about dance troop Diversity's BLM-inspired routine on Britain's Got Talent last year when the watchdog refused a probe and said: 'We carefully considered a large number of complaints about this artistic routine, an area where freedom of expression is particularly important.'Diversity's performance referred to challenging and potentially controversial subjects, and in our view, its central message was a call for social cohesion and unity.'Any depictions of violence by the performers were highly stylised and symbolic of recent global events, and there was no explicit reference to any particular political organisation - but rather a message that the lives of black people matter.'Mr Morgan is also Editor at large for MailOnline and writes a twice weekly column for the website. A spokesman for MailOnline said: 'This is a very sad day for British free speech and one ITV will come to regret very quickly. We stand by Piers 120%.' LOADS MORE ON THE DM

WELL HE HAS CERTAIN MADE HIS OPINION CLEAR AND MANY AGREE, MYSELF INCLUDED! EVEN GIVEN PAST ERRORS HE IS TO BE COMMENDED FOR TAKING SUCH A PUBLIC STANCE!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

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cadens-dream-journal · 3 years

Text

What I Want

O-Kiku/Yamato

Kiku wanted Deuce to interview the schools Volleyball captain, but ended up doing it herself. She ends up wanting just a little more.

(Words 959)

—————————

Kiku adored her position as club president. She could get exactly what she needed, when she needed, how she needed it. Especially when people thought she was as reputable as she was so they worked with her. Her brother being the good student he was a few years back also helped keep her record clean. People were happy to help her and she was happy to help right back!

So when Deuce texted her that he wasn’t going to be able to do this next interview for her because he had an appointment she was happy to handle it herself. She was the one who wrote the questions and was writing the article anyway, Deuce just had more time than she did. Kendo and the Newspaper club took up more time each year.

The club faculty advisor let her into the gym with a grin. “It’s good to see you Miss Kiku! How’s Izo?” Shanks was always a happy man, it was also very infectious.

She grinned over at him, he already knew how her brother was, “He’s doing well. Thank you. I’m here to speak to the team Captain?” She took a quick look at the papers again to make sure she was reading it correctly, “Kaido Yamato?”

“Of course, of course gimme a minute, I’ll go get him. He dragged one of the first years outside to practice serving,” Shanks said before casually walking out the door. Seconds later he was shouting a name.

A teen with ombré hair burst into the gym with a grin. He turned towards her and she smiled softly. He quickly made his way over to her and looked down at her before introducing himself, “Kaido Yamato. It’s nice to meet you! I’m going to be the next Kozuki Oden, and you can quote me on that.”

She had wanted to be as professional as possible. She really wanted to seem like the calm put together young adult she was trying to be. But goodness he was adorable, she laughed harder than she had in a while. She tried to collect herself, to apologize, but he was still grinning at her. As if he expected and wanted her to react like that!

“I’m—“

“Please don’t apologize! I like making cute girls like you laugh, I’m very serious about that claim, but I’m glad I could get to hear such a cute laugh,” he cut her off with a more gentle smile. He was very charming.

“Alright. I’m Akazaya Kikunojo, you can call me Kiku though. I’d like to interview you for the school paper if you have time?” She twirled her pencil on instinct as she spoke.

His eyes fell to her hand and she abruptly stopped the motion slightly embarrassed about it. He just hummed, “Would you be okay talking outside while I practice volley’s?” She had no idea what those were but she was fine with whatever. She nodded and followed him outside, he let her pull out her small recorder and start it before he moved into a position.

He started hitting the ball with the tips of his fingers on both hands, looking up at where he was sending the ball before hitting it again in the same way.

“Okay first question: Why did you choose to play Volleyball?” she always started with this question, it told her so much about someone.

“Well,” he made a face into the sky, “My dad played when he was younger and pushed me to do it too. I hated it back then, but then I saw Kozuki Oden in person once, he was so happy to be playing even though he lost and I decided that’s what I wanted to be. I wanted to have fun . Win or lose.” That was such a lovely reason. She updated her question list with that new information.

“So Kozuki Oden inspired you? He was an Ace wasn’t he? What position do you play?” She didn’t know exactly what all the terms were but that’s why they interviewed people.

“Yeah! He was a great wing spiker and the teams Ace. I may not be the team Ace but I am a wing spiker. I’ll happily leave crushing the other team to Ace, it’s fun when they realize the Ace is named Ace you know?” He laughed and she giggled at his enthusiasm.

The interview carried on a little longer and her final question got her an answer she didn’t quite expect. “So is there anything you’d tell your younger self after getting where you are?”

He stopped the ball this time and looked down at the ground, “Stop pretending you’re not a boy. You can still play how you want just the way you are.” She sucked in a breath, she didn’t even think he was... She quickly concluded the interview on her recorder and shut it off. He scratched his head and cleared his throat, “Sorry that last answer was so heavy.”

She quickly shook her head, “No, no. I get it. I get it a lot more than most people might.” She muttered the last part but he blinked at her.

So that was a thing.

He stared at her for a couple of seconds before looking at the gym building. She was going to ask what was wrong, but he dropped the ball and grabbed her hands. He looked her in the eye as he asked her a question she was not prepared for and very much did not mind, “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Izo was going to be disappointed. She was to focus on school, and college, and very much not boys. Too bad she was going to take what she wanted. “I would love that.”

#one piece #one piece yamato #one piece okiku #one piece kiku #Kiku/Yamato #Kiku x Yamato #highschool au #one piece fanfiction

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lapontoart · 3 years

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A little ode to something I like

We often talks about toxic fandoms. For fandom (for the uninitiated) we mean a "subculture formed by the community of enthusiasts who share a common interest in some cultural phenomenon, such as a hobby, a book, a saga, an author, a film genre." –Wikipedia For toxic fandoms, on the other hand, communities in which being social is not at home: arrogant people who do not respect the opinions of others, give easy insults and even ready to react aggressively to the slightest problem tending to make it worse. For those unfamiliar with this world it may seem absurd that there are people who start a fight for nonsense such as cartoons and video games ... yet this is reality. Indeed, you can even list which are the most toxic fandoms on the internet.

But in this article I don't want to talk about this aspect (maybe in the next one).

I want to dedicate this space to the good and positive side of fandom, in particular to one in which I still find myself particularly well even if by now not very active. A while ago, in 2000 or thereabouts; this particular cartoon called "Jackie Chan Adventures" was broadcast on the national network. As you may have guessed from the name, it is linked to the legendary figure of the martial arts master Jackie Chan. In summary it is a series of animated adventures in which our idol of action films plays the role of a simple archaeologist (rather than a fighter or actor as in reality) who will be catapulted into a series of events related to magic and legends of Chinese mythology. Dragons, demons and even magical talismans are just some of the many elements that can be found in this series that has lasted for five seasons. It formula has made its way into the hearts of many people, nothing is missing: we have the action, the magic, the humor ... there are even many quotes to the films in which Jackie was the protagonist.

If in Italy this cartoon has gone almost unnoticed, a completely different story is for America where the success has been great. Fan fiction and fan art keep popping up around the internet even after the show has long since ended and the fans who find them rejoice like children. I understand perfectly how they feel because I also continue to adore this show, those who follow me will have seen that some of my drawings are often centered on its characters. But what can I do about it? In addition to giving me a good dose of inspiration for comics and illustrations, it was also an excuse to start changing my style of drawing. Being able to recreate those characters as I saw them was the push that forced me to improve, the first step in developing my style. Not to be arrogant but I think I succeeded.

And the fandom? It is, after all, the subject of this article. Unfortunately I arrived late in this group and I missed the beauty of when it was still fully active ... but those few people who are left have been incredible: they have always found something to talk about or create together, they have always found the time to comment on my works and always leave positive reviews. In short, I am happy with it. I don't know any toxic situation ever happened when it was alive and animated (and I sincerely hope not), but I am happy to have been present for that positivity that should characterize fandom groups in general. In my upbeat little world I keep hoping that one day they can re-broadcast this cartoon. Not so much to review the good against the bad, but to rediscover the pleasure of talking to many people who adore the same thing.

#jackie chan adventures #article #ode #cartoon

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4homiesfilm · 3 years

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5 Things - Devin

April 9, 2021

And so it begins…

Well, I’m missing you all a ton right now, wishing I wasn’t back in shitty, smelly, stinky New York but still on the lake, ripping an apple bong, and trying to shimmy. Anyway, here are 5 things inspiring me right now, that I want to share, and hopefully some of my excitement and inspiration will rub off onto you...

1. “Films aren’t just for telling stories — they should create an impact that encourages other people to make work.” -Mati Diop.

This wasn’t intentional, but in many ways this may just be the perfect quote to kick off this little weekly experiment of ours. This is what I want to do in general, with each film I make, but it’s especially relevant to the film we started making on this trip. Like I said the night we delved into the dark depths of how hard life has been the past year or more: we can help each other, and we can do so by inspiring one another. Mati is the perfect symbol of this for several reasons. When I first saw Atlantics, a little over a year ago, it made me think of Alisa and her style, particularly her Cuba doc. Both those films moved and inspired me in strangely similar ways, and so I had to tell her to watch it. I think it’s safe to say that Mati’s film also inspired Alisa, and then she urged all of us to watch it last weekend, and the excitement was then spread through all of us. This is so cool to me, and gives me so much creative energy. I could say so much about the film itself, and all the different aspects that moved me and blew me away, but just this rippling impact that it had on all of us makes me so happy. However, one of my favorite aspects is the music, so I will add this quote from Mati as well (which is from the same article, linked just below the quote):

“Fatima is by far one the best musicians and artists of my generation and embodies the music of my time. I chose her because I wanted the music of the film to bewitch the audience like a djinn [genie] would, she also has an understanding of the complex geopolitical landscape of the film. My [way of telling stories] is fed by a lot of different references — European Gothic and the romantic movement, as well as my African and Muslim heritage — so I think the film is really a strange aesthetic combination. Fatima and I have a very similar hybrid culture.”

The full interview: https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/mati-diop-interview

2. Lee Chang-dong (aka... Director Dong)

Wow, he has been such a profound source of inspiration for me these past few weeks. Each film of his we watched - and for Thomas and I it was three, yes three damn films! That’s like half his filmography! - had something different and new that blew me away, whether it was particular moments or something larger, something deeper pulsating underneath the surface. This interview he did after Burning’s release is fantastic, and these are the quotes that particularly stuck out to me:

“To me it seems that films these days are becoming more and more simple, and the audience seems to desire simpler stories. Of course, films sort of shape the desires and the demands the audience makes, so I kind of wanted to go against this trend and see if a film can sort of throw endless questions at the audience. Endless questions about a larger mysterious world. This film is the result of that experiment.”

“[Hae-mi is] also the only character in the film who persistently pursues the meaning of life. The moment she disappears, I wanted the audience to sort of feel her absence and ask themselves what she represents and has been searching for — her presence in this film is very important, even when she's not there. The dancing in this scene really signifies her entire presence in the film.

When she's dancing the Great Hunger dance, searching for the meaning of life and really seeking true freedom, you see her doing that dance surrounded by both the lies and natural beauty that we live in. The scene being set during sunset, you see light and darkness co-existing, and you see the moon in the sky and you also see the grass swaying in the wind, you see the livestock, the farm and, of course, the Korean national flag, which symbolizes politics. You see all these elements that represent aspects of our lives — even the Miles Davis tune. I thought that through this scene I could portray and combine all of these elements together in the most cinematic way possible, so that the audience can really feel the potential of cinema as a medium and the unique aesthetics of cinema. So from the beginning to the end of the scene, I didn't want it to feel like it was directed or staged; I wanted it to feel as if we were able to capture this slice of life very coincidentally, and to capture Hae-mi's pursuit of freedom.

...The moment I thought of this image was when I first knew I could make this story into a film.”

Full interview: www.hollywoodreporter.com/amp/news/oscars-interview-lee-chang-dong-burning-1167869

3. Tsai Ming-liang. It makes me so excited that What Time Is It There? connected with Thomas the way it did, because this guy is one of my absolute favorite filmmakers. Watching that film was so inspiring and such a great way to end the trip, because it made me so hopeful about the future, and all its possibilities. In so many ways, Tsai makes the films I want to make. You all have to watch Rebels of the Neon God and Vive L’amour. Here is a quote by Tsai which is so similar to how I think about the films I make:

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a painter and I have always enjoyed looking at paintings. Viewing a film is admittedly a different experience from viewing a painting, but in my films I am continually trying to develop an experience for my audience similar to that of viewing a painting. I am more like a painter who is using the language of filmmaking than a storyteller who is using the medium of film.”

And here is Tsai talking about his star and muse Lee Kang-sheng, his star and muse who has been in every one of his films, which I also find so fascinating and, again, inspiring:

“It’s not about a face being pretty; it is about how you frame it. The reason that I always cast Lee is his face. His face inspires me to look at film in a different way. Thinking about it, over my twenty-year career in feature films, it was never about the story, it was about filming Lee.

[His face] evoked a particular sensation that touched me deeply, while the professional actors that I auditioned did not touch me as much. Ordinary faces, and ordinary people, tend to leave a stronger impression on me. When I chose Lee to be my actor, there was a lot of criticism. People complained that he did not have the face of a star. He wasn’t big or muscular. Yet, what deeply touched me was precisely this sense of ordinary-ness in his appearance. He was natural. Lee’s appearance in my films actually changed the whole path of my development as a filmmaker away from standard, industrial-style films and in another direction.

As we have continued to collaborate, Lee has aged and his body has changed a lot. Usually in the film industry, when an actor ages and changes, the director will get a different actor to perform. Rather than choose that path, I chose to accept these changes and to allow the audience to watch as someone gets old and sometimes gets sick. I am using the changes in the body of Lee to have a conversation with the world. He will always be my actor. Using Lee throughout my career has been a kind of constraint because I could easily have used other professional or “star” actors. Placing this constraint upon myself was an active choice: a choice that was not driven by market forces but by what I wanted to achieve in my films.”

Here’s the full article:

https://www.cineaste.com/fall2019/painterly-poetics-tsai-ming-liang-and-lee-kang-sheng

4. Our film, which I’ll be posting many stills from in the coming days/weeks, but for now, here are these three.

It felt so good to be working on something new with all of you, and just be in that process, and see what comes out of it. I think we got some really exciting stuff, which I have to now go through and explore, but just the act of filming it and working together put me on such a high. Particularly that first night, when we got the blue shots of the lake (the boat going by, the green light of the other dock turning off) and then filming Thomas eat the enchilada...I get a specific creative rush when filming something that feels so exciting and new, and it’s a rare feeling, and I felt it then, and in other fleeting moments while filming for those days and nights. This is just the beginning...

5. Planning our next trip. Whether it be a road trip or just another week or so at the lake, I just want to be together again.

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ritchieblackless · 4 years

Text

There's superstition...

After the torture sentence that I aplied to myself by thinking that this post could be a good idea, I fucking have the information about this... this... twisted story. Not all the information though, because if I search for more info about this I will surely need to go to the Cuckoo's nest.

Oh Martina, you're exaggerating. No, I'm not (well yeah, kinda). This was so confusing to understand and organize. Believe I was in the bathroom seconds ago saying "Okay, 1970 Cozy and Jeff going to Detroit. 1971 and 1972 Stevie.."

The most important thing about Superstition's back story and theories about Cozy's playing on it, is the ☆Timelines.☆ Because in the end everything revolves around 1970-71 and 72 to ever consider Cozy in Superstition so let's start.

[Jeff Beck and Cozy Powell going to Motown Studios in Detroit, 1970-71]

They both travelled to the States to do some Motown covers for the upcoming album with only covers but they never released it. They released Rough and Ready inestead but I'll leave the man explains that to you himself:

"My producer, Mickie Most, said, 'We have to make an album.' I talked Mickie into going to Motown, the Hitsville house. It was one of the last sessions there. I was so privileged. We were more like tourists, kids in a candy shop. I took Cozy [Cozy Powell] and I said, 'I gotta go to Motown, and you’re coming as well.' (Cozy: *gets scared and excited*) It wasn't a request. What the hell was I doing taking a rock drummer, with two huge Ludwig bass drums, into Motown? They hated us right away. They didn’t want to know. But we loved it there, and they sensed it after a few hours. The first day, when Cozy sat behind the Motown drum kit and started playing like the Meters, they all went, 'Oh!' (Motown people: Heeey... That's pretty good!) and came flooding back to the studio. It was James Jamerson on bass that day — no rhythm guitar — and Earl Van Dyke on keyboards. That was it, a stripped-down thing. They kept saying, 'Where are the dots?' [sheet music] I said, 'There ain’t no dots.'

When Cozy started playing, it was great. James was locking up with Cozy’s drum pattern. Then I looked around — Cozy was wheeling the drum kit out of the studio. They’re going berserk. He has moved the sacred Motown drum kit out of the studio and wheeled this stupid double kit of Ludwigs in. The studio tech came up to me and said, 'Didn’t you guys come in here for the Motown sound?' Yeah. 'Well, it just went out the door.' [Laughs] "

Jeff Beck, Rolling Stone.

I just love when Jeff refers to Cozy's drum kit as stupid, fancy or whatever in a derogatory way... just because it was sparkling red jsjdjfkgkgl.

We have here, Cozy's side of the events:

"You may as well start off with both feet on the most obscure thing I've ever done. I've got a copy of it, a tape.

It never got the test pressing stage. We went to Motown in Detroit with the idea of Jeff recording an album of all the Motown hits, basically as an instrumental album. He wanted to use a lot of the Motown session players. At that time I'd just joined him, 1969 I think, and his original idea was to find a drummer first. Found me, went down to the audition, got the job, next thing I know (Jeff: You're coming with me. Cozy: ...the fuck?) we're going to Motown to do this album. We did 'Reach out I'll Be There', 'Losing You', things like that. In the end we did about 7 or 8 tracks of which the backing tracks were done.

Jeff plays rhythm guitar, he hadn't actually put the lead on and for some reason he wasn't happy with what he heard or with Micky Most or whatever. It never ever saw the light of day."

Cozy Powell, interview with Joe Gessin

This is all important because this wouldn't be the first time that Jeff and Cozy travelled to the States together.

[JBGroup going to Electric Lady in New York, May 1972]

This is where the party begins and when the timelines confusion comes in.

So, Jeff Beck Group's second album is recorded in January of 1972 at TMI Studios in Memphis. Talking Book was RELEASED in October of 1972 so we don't know how exactly when it was recorded.

But anyway, the thing is that Jeff and his gang released the album in May but before that Stevie and Jeff were kicking the idea of some session works with Jeff for Talking Book so when they released the album in May, they had no obligations left so Jeff took his gang to Electric Lady in New York.

Jeff recorded some guitar tracks and the gang was just observing and occasionally adding ideas. They wanted Stevie to write a song for the next album (which it doesn't exist).

This is where the party begins part 2:

There is this story of Jeff playing the drums for a laugh, noodling around while Stevie was writing over it. It seems like Jeff did something that inspired Stevie but here's the guy again:

"One day I was sitting at the drum kit, which I love to play when nobody's around, doing this beat. Stevie came kinda boogieing into the studio: 'Don't stop.' 'Ah, c'mon, Stevie,' I can't play the drums.' Then the lick came out: 'Superstition.'"

Jeff Beck, Jeff Beck: Crazy Fingers.

I really doubt that is Jeff's playing in the record. What I don't doubt is that maybe Stevie played the drums but since they had Cozy around and Stevie liked Cozy's beat and most importantly he was a drummer (I'm not saying that Stevie is not a drummer, I'm just saying that Cozy is a full drummer while Stevie plays a lot of things). This is where the previous Cozy post about this comes in. They where trying different things so I really believe that at some point of that day Cozy sat down on the drum kit and did a take.

And there's a proof that Cozy was there and worked with Stevie, actually there are two: The only two existents pictures of Stevie Jeff and Cozy were taken in 1972.

"Stevie Wonder is one of these man who walks around singing all day, tapping out rhythms... well, the man IS music. When I worked with him -which was very briefly- he'd come in with this idea in his head and he'd say 'Hey, hey, play this man!' and he'd start tapping something out"

Cozy Powell, Rhythm magazine 1987.

And theres another Cozy quote but is not complete because I found it on pinterest (so sorry) but it's understandable as well.

"He'd tapping out the table. You'd watch and start tapping along with him and he'd get excited and say 'Yeah, yeah, yeah... now try this on the hit-hat, man, try this.. ' After five minutes you'd have come up with something and then perhaps you'd do a little bit more or a little bit less of it, and if he really liked it he'd start dancing around and laughing and waving his arms about. Then he'd leap on to the keyboards and start playing. It was all very energetic, good stuff and really easy to do. You weren't aware it was work."

Cozy Powell, unknown article.

I feel that Stevie's energetic attitude and passion for music hit him deeply, I can see that by the way that the quotes are written. Cozy just loved Stevie.

So yeah, Cozy said that he did some takes for Superstition when Stevie finally wrote it down. In the case that I'm mistaken and it was Stevie who played the drums... it should have been over some Cozy's track because there's no way that Stevie could imitate his Crashing-Cymbal sound or either his drum rolls. Stevie can of course, but not will the same touch, because of the simple reason that one person is different from another.

But I still believe that it IS Cozy's take, i really do and the most important question here is: if Cozy was not who played the drums on Superstition... Why he would lie about it? He had no reason to do it so there must be some truth in his words.

And we need to remember that Superstition was originally planned for Jeff Beck Group so if it was for Jeff Beck Group, they would need Jeff's drummer which was Cozy. So I wouldn't be surprised if Stevie asked Cozy to do some takes.

And when Superstition was finally out, it was by Stevie Wonder using Cozy's take. The reason of why Stevie released it was because Motown said that it was such a great song for giving it away. Also Jeff was busy with Jeff Beck Group's break up for working on the song.

The reason of why Stevie was enlisted as the drummer is not clear, it seems like a Motown move.

So yeah, this is story, well half of it. The shit was so long with a lot of details that I didn't need for this.

I believe that it was Cozy's take, for a lot of reasons. Not because I like him (Well i do like him but the truth is the truth). Maybe it was Stevie with a Cozy guide, we don't know... and we never will.

(Unless we kidnap Jeff Beck and ask him)

#omg Martina get a grip #what the actual fuck?#what is this? the new testament or something??????#but good unnecessary stuff to know...#I know that It was Cozy... i just know #long post #cozy powell #jeff beck #jeff beck group #stevie wonder #superstition

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eccentricpony · 4 years

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Hello dear! I kind of did a spin on this request, and the story starts around the time of their first meeting and shows the progression into a romantic relationship. Mildly inspired by Tenma’s home screen quote to practice a kissing scene.

I think it’s a good blend of angsty, spicy, funny, and fluffy, but you be the judge! I am quite fond of this piece, and I hope you are, too! <3

Bad First Impressions

Despite your best efforts to suppress it, a dramatic sigh rumbles past your lips. And to think that you had actually looked forward to working with Tenma Sumeragi. You had watched his performances in a few teen dramas and found his ability to be quite impressive, and he was highly lauded among other actors in your professional circle for being the consummate professional and perfectionist. More like pretentious and pompous.

“…and you there-“ the haughty redhead pointed towards a mousy looking boy sitting at a diner table on set.

“Uhh, B- Bill?” the mousy boy responded meekly.

“Yeah, sure – no one just stares at the person across from them without saying anything at all. It’s creepy and weird. That goes for you, too, guy with the glasses.” He moved an accusatory finger towards Bill’s dining companion. “Haven’t you guys ever heard of “peas and carrots”? I mean, this is amateur hour stuff that you don’t even need any skill to execute…”

“Can you just close your mouth and do some work, Sumeragi?”

You could hear a pin drop in the spacious sound studio. The cantankerous teen star whipped his head towards you with a pointed glare. You were an up-and-coming actress in the teen drama scene, and although you were a year older than he was, his acting resume was at least three times the length of yours. Sure, you were pretty, and you seemed passably talented, but you had a long way to go before you could even reach the echelon of his level of expertise. And you had the audacity to criticize his judgment??

“Excuse me?!” His eyes raked up and down your form, sizing you up in an attempt to appear intimidating. The manner in which you nonchalantly rested your hand upon your hip, head-cocked and eyes rolled; it was utterly disrespectful to him, a major authority in the industry, not to mention disrespectful to your fellow actors, to the very sacred space of-

“And to think that I had heard you were a competent leader…” you continued in a jaded tone. There was a visible flare in Tenma’s cheeks, the fury sizzling behind his eyes red hot.

To his credit, he certainly had a high level of talent, but that gave him no authority to degrade his teammates, whether they be fellow actors or the key grip. You weren’t normally this abrasive, but charming teen cutie Tenma was a self-important bully who was surrounded by “yes” men. This suave schoolboy star needed a wakeup call. The scandalized celebrity opened his mouth to commence a tirade when the director stepped in.

“Now, now, please folks. Let’s be civil…” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he glanced between you both with a pleading look.

With a final sour stare in your direction, Tenma transformed back into TV’s favorite high school hottie with a heart of gold.

“Yes, of course,” he replied, and you also nodded in consent. Everyone placated Tenma, endured his toxic attitude because he brought them money. But one thing was for sure, you had no intention to relinquish control to tyrannical Tenma.

Japan’s Newest Sweetheart

Tenma rushed down the street, tipping the brim of his hat further down his forehead, his alarming speed drawing attention from passersby. But he couldn’t slow down now; it was only a matter of time before Igawa caught up to him and asked where he was going, and why he was going by himself, and what was he looking for after all, and a number of other questions whose answers he would very much prefer not to explain.

With the convenience store in sight, he quickened his pace until he reached the threshold, throwing open the door with a tenacity that startled the cashier. Returning upright from where he hunched over his newspaper, the shopkeep threw a cautious eye to the young man at the doorway, wearing a suspicious amount of accessories and panting like he was running from the law.

The ginger on a mission performed a quick visual sweep of the displays until he located the object he desired. Bounding forward, he approached the magazine rack and flipped open the arts & entertainment periodical to the index. …page 31…

Rifling through the flimsy pages of the gossip rag, he at last reached the article which he had sought. There looking up at him was a page-wide spread of you, armed with an impossibly charming smile and a sparkle of mischief in your eyes. The page opposite of your come-hither headshot bore the headline “Japan’s Newest Sweetheart.”

It was infuriating. You were a nobody – barely any experience at all, and certainly not in anything particularly noteworthy – yet you were the one pushed to the forefront of advertising. His eyes flicked back to your picture once, twice… I mean, it was a good photo.

Ignoring the manner in which his throat seized when met with your 2-dimensional gaze, he directed his attention to the article. His eyes tripped along the words, “captivating new series… “ “character growth and development…” – aha! He spotted his name among the text and focused on the containing paragraph.

“blah, blah… he’s a true veteran in the industry…” Tenma puffed up like a rooster at this remark. Damn right, I am. He continued to read your commentary, mouth silently forming the shape of the words, scouring each sentence for more well-deserved praise. You went on to describe the characters, their struggles and how the cast related to their roles… One line in particular raised his brow. Tenacious young man?? Young man, what? She’s like, one year older than I am! He rose his head, appalled that you would speak of him like a child. He turned back to the print, reviewing the sentence a second time. She’s not even a whole year older, we’re practically the same age. He bent his brow in concentration. He counted back from your birthday. Yeah, totally not even a year old. Tch. He chose to ignore the fact that he recalled your birthday so quickly and glowered down at you while you beamed right back up at him.

It was undeniable that he was pissed off due of all the attention you were receiving when he was the lead. Possibly because… well, maybe you did deserve it. He had come to respect your acting ability over the past few months, in particular your impressive ability to become truly immersed in a role.

But maybe also because…. well, you looked good in this spread. Like, really good. Your smile was intoxicating; why didn’t you smile at him like that? On second thought, maybe it was for the best that you hadn’t. His hardened exterior would likely dissolve, and he’d be a stuttering, fumbling mess. Scanning your features, he noticed that they airbrushed away a tiny birthmark on your face. Or maybe it was a freckle? And they did something to your eyebrows, they just looked off. Why would they even do that? They were perfectly fine eyebrows…

“Hey, buddy, are you going to buy that or not? This ain’t a library.”

Tenma’s head shot upright, dazed for a few moments before he comprehended the words spoken to him. His tense fists gripped the wrinkled magazine tightly, fragile pages strained and starting to tear. Loosening his hold, he spared a final glimpse at your face before neatly closing the pages and smoothing out the bent cover.

“Uhh, yeah. I am.”

Sliding his shades further up his nose with his pointer, he coolly ambled to the checkout area and lay the gentleman’s digest upon its surface. The material refused to remain flat after its recent abuse, leaving your shirt and neck visible beneath the dog-eared pages. The employee recognized the article right away.

“That new actress is really something, huh? They say she’s going to be the next big thing.”

Tenma scoffed but offered no discourse, handing over the required yen.

“Pretty cute, too,” the young worker added as he slipped the purchased item into a plastic bag.

“Yeah, whatever,” Tenma huffed heatedly, snatching the illustrated booklet containing your first big media premiere and returning to the sidewalk to await Igawa.

Salty to Sweet

“Don’t they teach you how to stay on task in Middle School? Or are you in High School? Your lack of common sense is misleading…”

“Funny,” Tenma retorted caustically, though more annoyed at himself than you. He had been finding it challenging to focus as of late since he bought that magazine and he kept screwing up on the same damn lines. His short fuse was growing ever shorter with every butchered word.

You could see that Tenma was downward spiraling; the spark he always carried behind those big, vibrant eyes was fading fast.

“Look, why don’t you try something else…” you started, preparing for opposition.

“What?” the taller boy began, with no small amount of skepticism. Ignoring his sour attitude, you stood opposite him and continued in a calm tone.

“Try talking to me about something you really like while staying in character.”

“Talk about something I like?” Tenma replied incredulously. “What am I, six?”

“Sometimes I wonder, with the way you hide your vegetables under your mashed potatoes during lunch, so no one notices you throwing them away.” You smirk knowingly, pleased with the look of surprise on your fellow actor’s face.

“You saw me do that?” Tenma stared at you with a look of both wonder and bewilderment. He was certain no one could see him do that, and you sat at another table entirely! How on earth could you have been paying close enough attention to him to spot that, unless…

“Everyone knows that,” you deflected quickly, the rosy tint on your cheeks belying your innocence in the matter. “So what are you going to talk about?” Your bitter scene partner rolled his eyes. As a veteran in the industry, he felt pretty foolish having you talk him through basic acting exercises. Yet…. There was no question that he was struggling with the script, and no better ideas came to mind. With a sigh of defeat, Tenma offered the one outlet that came to mind.

“Bonsai…” he mumbled in a barely audible tone.

“What was that?” you ask, leaning it. Your close proximity fuels a steadily growing warmth along the back of his neck. He takes a sudden step backward and repeats himself louder.

“Bonsai! Are you deaf?”

“Bonsai, huh?” You smile with amusement. “Well, that’s something you don’t read in all your magazine interviews.”

“Reading my interviews, are you?” he responds dryly, but his stomach does a flip. He thinks back on the magazine he has featuring you, kept privately stashed away in a box under his bed. The thought that maybe you had a magazine featuring him tucked away somewhere in your bedroom causes chills that ran down his broad arms and shoulders.

“Nevermind that,” you grumble, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “Well, bonsai it is, then. Whenever you’re ready.”

You spend the next few minutes listening to Tenma ramble on about bonsai pruning, the proper tools to use, and even the proper light, pH and moisture levels to ensure optimal bonsai health. Despite the fact that you now know more about bonsai trees than you would have ever cared to know, it seems that engaging, dynamic Tenma has returned. He comes to a full stop after finishing a discourse on bonsai diseases; his head now feeling clear, he’s convinced that he can recite his lines without hesitation.

“That was really good,” you commend him honestly, mirroring the pleased look on his face.

“Naturally,” he boasts in a cocky tone, feeling confident following his flawlessly delivered bonsai monologue. “It’s amazing how pleasant you can be when you’re not yelling at me,” he jibes, looking rather pleased with himself. You raise a brow at his renewed brashness, but you’ve always been quick on the trigger.

“It’s amazing how handsome you can be when you’re not scowling,” you reply with a smug expression, reveling in the crimson darkening his cheeks.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he mumbles with an air of mild embarrassment irritation, rubbing the back of his neck which is now damp with sweat.

“Who says I want to go anywhere with you?” you shoot back with a patronizing smirk before turning your attention back to the script. “SO, where were we?” you inquire loudly before he can get a word in edgewise. Thumbing through the marked-up pages, you see in your periphery that he is doing the same.

“Scenes 12 and 14 we did, 17 we did… no need to go over scene 28…”

“Why are we not practicing scene 28?” Tenma inquired in a cheeky tone. He knew exactly which scene 28 was: the kissing scene. You hadn’t gone over it yet, in read-throughs or on set. After you had just bested him in a mini battle of wits, this would be a great opportunity to even the playing field.

He had performed at least a dozen kiss scenes; it was old hat for him by now, and he knew for sure (not that he had googled your TV and film credits or anything) that you had never performed one. He was certain you’d flounder in search of a clever comeback, then, admitting defeat, blush profusely and outright refuse to do it.

“Fine, let’s do it.” You were no fool, and Tenma Sumeragi couldn’t bluff to save his life.

If Tenma wasn’t youthful and in great health, he might fear he were having a heart attack. Words seized up in his throat, and he could only manage a curt nod. He walked in a small circle, shaking his limbs as he often did while getting into character. He could do this, this was nothing. He had kissed, like, at least 12 girls before. 12! That was more girls than most men kissed in their entire lifetime! Wasn’t it? He couldn’t really think straight. With a long breath in, and out, he reformed his strategy.

He would perform a star-worthy kiss, absolutely knock-your-socks-off amazing, and then swagger out of the room while you were still swooning and dazed. His ego swelled a bit at the thought of leaving you desperate for another kiss, but his blood ran fast and furious at the thought of… well, actually having the kiss.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you started in the tone of your character’s persona, the sudden smoldering look in your eye plucking at his every last nerve.

“At lunch, in the hall… even waiting for the bus.” Slowly, you crossed the floor towards Tenma’s frozen form. “You’ve given me flirty smiles, you’ve given me teasing winks, but there’s one thing you have yet to give me...” His pulse pounded in his ears as you leaned in closer, far closer than you had ever been before. His eyes flicker anxiously to your mouth, his breath held tightly in his throat.

“A kiss” you purr, biting your lip with the thrill of anticipation. Your lip bite just about crushes any dignity that remains in Tenma; tracing the lines on your lips with a wanton stare, it takes him a few seconds of feeble gaping before he remembers he has a line.

“Come and get it,” he whimpered, his line in a tone more befitting the token band geek than a smooth high school hunk. And get it, you did.

His script is lost to the floor as you press your lips onto his, his body rendered both limp and tight all at once. He did not expect this kind of kiss from you. Or maybe it was because he was used to a stage kiss, with twenty people watching and instructions from several individuals on how to hold his mouth at just the right angle for the camera. This… this was a kiss kiss. Your soft mouth was moving fluidly against his with such hypnotic, sweet caresses that he was convinced that he had never truly kissed someone before now. It was humbling but delicious; he had no control, and he couldn’t care less.

He couldn’t contain the small whimper of disappointment you drew from his throat when at last you pulled away, slyly wiping your reddened lips with the back of your hand. Tenma watched you with a mixed look of shock and awe, as though you had just miraculously materialized from thin air. Practice was over.

“Don’t lose that script,” you called over your shoulder cheerfully as you exited the practice space. “I think you could use another review of that scene.”

The Premiere

The Interview

You: …and it’s been bittersweet, but we’re both ready to move onto new projects. Isn’t that right, Tenten?

Interviewer: Tenten? That’s adorable, is that your nickname for Tenma?

You: Yeah, I call him Tenten because to me, he’s a ten out of ten. [You place an overly-dramatic kiss on his cheek]

Tenma: [Feigns a gagging sound while seated beside you, but reciprocates the kiss] That is a heinous lie, by the way, on both counts. [Tenma’s ability to poke fun at himself is refreshing, his overall manner humble and gracious, demonstrating his tremendous growth from child star to the consummate professional actor.]

Tenma: Actually, one of my fellow trou- uh, one of my friends at the Mankai Company, Kazunari, gave me that nickname.

Interviewer: The Mankai Company, that’s right! You’re putting on a production soon, aren’t you?

Tenten: We are! I’d love to give you the details of our production if you could publish them alongside this article.

Interviewer: Absolutely. [Turning to you] And do you usually attend Tenma’s performances? I know both of your schedules are rather hectic these days, with all the job offers you’ve both received following the highly successful final season of your most recent television drama.

You: Yes, absolutely; I attend every one.

Tenma: In the front row, every performance. [He links his arm in yours, speaking with a tangible sense of pride]

Interviewer: I’ve noticed you have at least a half dozen bonsai trees in your apartment. Is that a mutual hobby?

You: Well, it’s our thing. I mean, it’s his thing really, but it’s kind of both our thing now. [You smile at Tenma with affection]

Interviewer: And, I’ve been meaning to ask - that framed script on the wall there, is that a keepsake? Or a valuable script from one of your favorite films perhaps? [The interviewer gestures to the worn script hanging above the mantle, protected and held in place by a thick pane of glass, bearing a large penned “SCENE 28”]

Tenma: Yeah, it has a… special meaning. [Your boyfriend contributes, glancing into your eyes with a knowing smile that only you two could understand]

#a3!#a3! actor training game #a3! imagines #a3! headcanons #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3 tenma #a3! tenma #a3! tenma sumeragi #tenma sumeragi #a3 imagines #a3 headcanons #a3 actor training game #a3 act addict actors

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Star Trek: Lower Decks Season 2 Episode 1 Easter Eggs & References

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Star Trek: Lower Decks article contains spoilers for Season 2, Episode 1: “Strange Energies.”

The mission of the USS Cerritos is to do the jobs other Starfleet ships can’t; following up with all sorts of minutiae and boring outer space logistics, long after the Enterprise or the Defiant has warped out. But whether it’s Lower Decks or Picard or Discovery or Strange New Worlds, the mission of hardcore Trek fans is the same: Pause the screen and see what deep-cut Easter eggs got slipped in this time!

In Season 1, Star Trek: Lower Decks earned the reputation for the most meta-textual Star Trek ever. There are layers and layers of Trekdom within every frame of this series, making it hard to look at one episode and catalog all the references. But if you thought Season 1 went deep into the wells of Trekkie references and Easter eggs, Season 2 is here to make Season 1 look tame. The Season 2 premiere of Lower Decks — “Strange Energies” — is one giant Easter egg with a bunch of reproducing tribble-ish Easter eggs inside of it. Unless you’ve got ESP powers on the level of Dr. Elizabeth Dehner, there’s no way you caught all of these.

Cardassian ships

The episode has a cold-open on some kind of prison inside of an asteroid field. This is surrounded by two kinds of Cardassian ships, the Galor-class and the smaller Hideki-class scout ships.

“The Keep Showing Me Lights”

Hologram Boimler says the Cardassians “keep showing me lights.” This line, and the existence of the secret Cardassian facility references the famous Next Generation two-parter, “Chain of Command,” in which Picard was kidnapped and tortured by the Cardassians. If you somehow haven’t seen that episode, the whole idea is that the Cardassians try to gaslight Picard into thinking there are five lights in front of him when there are only four. Lower Decks referenced “Chain of Command” in Season 1, too! In Season 1, Episode 7, “Much Ado About Boimler,” Mariner joked about the Cerritos getting a “Babysitter Jellico-type,” for a subsitute captain, which referenced the temporary captain the Enterprise got in “Chain of Command.” Freeman, Shaxs and Ransom whore the all-black special ops outfits in that episode, too, and Tendi did the same in “Veritas.”

Too Many Ships to Count

As Mariner escapes from the Cardassian facility, there are soooo many ships being stored in this particular hanger. It’s all the ships. Here’s just a few we caught

A Federation runabout

Jem’Hadar fighters

A Nemesis-era Romulan warbird

An old school Romulan Bird-of-Prey from TOS

Federation fighter craft (like the ones seen in TNG’s “Preemptive Strike.”)

And many, many more.

Miranda-class USS MacDuff

Mariner steals a Miranda-class Federation starship with the registry NCC-1877, and the name “USS MacDuff.” There’s a lot going on here.

The Miranda-class was first seen in The Wrath of Khan, in the form of the USS Reliant. That film also featured someone stealing a ship like this with ease.

The bridge for this ship is basically identical to the Reliant.

Lower Decks showrunner Mike McMahan said in 2020 that he was inspired by the Reliant for the design of the Cerritos.

The name “MacDuff” might reference the TNG character, Kieran MacDuff, from the episode “Conundrum.” In that one, the crew has temporary amnesia and MacDuff manipulates them into fighting a war they’re not supposed to be involved in.

Jennifer

Jennifer is back! Mariner is interrupted during her holographic work-out by Jennifer, an Andorian crewmember from last season. In the Season 1 finale, “No Small Parts,” Mariner runs through the halls and pushes this character out of the way, saying, “Move Jennifer.” As far as we know, Jennifer is the only Andorian named Jennifer, but you really have to wonder, was this an Andorian name, or a human name?

“I know we’re not supposed to have interpersonal conflict”

Mariner’s dislike of Jennifer is punctuated by her talking to herself saying, “I know we’re not supposed to have interpersonal conflict…but I really hate that Andorian.” This references a long-standing rule from the TNG–era of Trek TV; that Starfleet officers weren’t supposed to have petty differences with each other. This rule was apparently implemented by Gene Roddenberry and drove several writers, including Ron Moore and Jeri Taylor, nuts.

Slightly new opening-credits

In Season 1, we saw the Cerritos running away from a battle involving a bunch of Borg cubes and Romulan Warbirds. Now, that same battle includes a Pakled ship from the Season 1 finale, a few Klingon Birds-of-Prey, and seemingly, fewer Borg.

Fred Tatasciore’s name in the credits?

Although Shaxs died in the Season 1 finale, Fred Tatasciore’s name appears in the opening credits…hmmm…will this ever be explained?

Rutherford’s date with Ensign Barnes

“Strange Energies” directly parallels the 2020 Season 1 debut, “Second Contact,” in several ways. The crew is involved with a second contact mission that goes horribly wrong and Rutherford starts dating Barnes for the “first” time. In the Season 1 finale, Rutherford lost his memory, which is why his relationship with Barnes seems new to him. This is why Mariner says “that sounds familiar.”

Hating pears…a Doctor Who reference?

Tendi is concerned that Rutherford used to hate pears, but now he doesn’t. This is possibly incorrect, but this could be a Doctor Who reference. In the Doctor Who episodes “Human Nature,” “Twice Upon a Time,” and “Hell Bent,” the Doctor (both David Tennant and Peter Capaldi) mention hating pears. In fact, in “Human Nature,” when the Doctor’s memory is erased, he asks Martha Jones to “never let me eat a pear.”

Sonic power washing

“Sonic showers” have long been a thing in the Star Trek universe, making their debut in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. But, we’ve never seen sonic power-washers before!

“Ever heard of Gary Mitchell”

Ransom’s possession is very much a tribute to Gary Mitchell’s god-like powers in the second TOS pilot episode “Where No Man Has Gone Before.” Dr. T’ana’s insistence that Kirk beat Gary Mitchell with a “boulder” is accurate. For whatever reason, the very first canonical Kirk-adventure ever, established that rock beats god-like powers any day of the week. It should also be noted that Mariner referenced Gary Mitchell in the first episode of Season 1, too.

Possible Harlan Ellison reference?

While Ransom is starting to work out, you can briefly hear him say, “The trick isn’t becoming a God. The trick is staying a God.” This could be a reference to the axiom attributed to Harlan Ellison: “The trick isn’t becoming a writer. The trick is staying a writer.” Ellison wrote “The City on the Edge of Forever,” for TOS. In Star Trek: Picard Season 1, Soji traveled on a ship called the Ellison, which Michael Chabon revealed was an Easter egg meant to reference Harlan Ellison. So, you never know?

“The Trick isn’t becoming a god, the Trick is staying a god”

Harlan Ellison reference?

Ransom on the Mount

Mariner says that Jack is “going all Ransom on the Mount.” This almost certainly references a hilarious fan video called “Shatner on the Mount,” in which a group called Fall On Your Sword remixed a behind-the-scenes interview with William Shatner (promoting Star Trek V: The Final Frontier) into a hilarious kind of talking-rap song. It has to be seen to be believed.

Giant God Head

A giant God head coming out to grab a starship might seem silly, but there are several precedents for this kind of thing in Trek canon. In the TOS episode “Who Mourns For Adonais?” a giant green hand grabs the Enterprise, which is later revealed to be the hand of the god Apollo. In the TNG episode “The Nth Degree,” the giant head of a Cytherian finds its way onto the Enterprise-D bridge. And, of course, in The Final Frontier, the crew meets “the God of Sha Ka Ree” which also, is a giant floating head.

My older sister got a symbiont

Barnes and Rutherford joke around that her Trill sister has a symbiont, but she doesn’t. This references the idea that not all Trill are joined, which was established in both TNG and Deep Space Nine.

Cetacean ops

Barnes mentions going swimming in “Cetacean ops,” a part of the USS Cerritos that we’ve never seen, but we have to assume has something to do with sea creatures. This is the second time Lower Decks has referenced Cetacean ops, which itself derives from an overheard line in TNG’s “Yesterday’s Enterprise.” Again, with yet another parallel to its Season 1 debut, “Cetacean ops” was last referenced by Lower Decks in Season 1, Episode 1, “Second Contact.”

“LDS thing”

Rutherford incorrectly refers to SMD as “LDS.” This references a few things. First, for most fans, the official abbreviation of Lower Decks is LDS. But, that abbreviation also references a joke from Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home in which Kirk incorrectly refers to the drug “LSD” as “LDS,” saying that Spock “did a little bit too much LDS back in the ‘60s.”

Nightengale Woman

At the end of the episode, Stevens tells Ransom he’s going to read him “Nightengale Woman.” This too is a reference to “Where No Man Has Gone Before,” which Gary Mitchell quotes from the poem “Nitengale Woman,” from memory. In Trek canon, the poem was written in 1996 on “the Canopus Planet.” In real life, the poem was written by Gene Roddenberry, who originally wrote part of the poem to describe flying a plane.

Riker’s jam session

As the final moments of the episode cut back to the USS Titan, Captain Riker says “This jam session has too many licks and not enough counts.” In jazz, a “lick” refers to a pattern or musical phrase which is predetermined, but open to interpretation. Usually, a lick could result in a long jazz solo. A “count” on the other hand, is more about the beat and form of a piece of music. Riker’s obsession with jazz began in the TNG episode “11001001.” In the season finale of Lower Decks Season 1, Riker’s catchphrase for sending the Titan into warp was a jazz count.

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Lower Decks Season 2 airs new episodes on Paramount+ on Thursdays.

The post Star Trek: Lower Decks Season 2 Episode 1 Easter Eggs & References appeared first on Den of Geek.

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vincent-g-writer · 4 years

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The Silver Screen Savant, pt 2- the Meh, the Bad and The yikes.

Hello Writers!

Last time here on Starry Starry Write, I talked a little about Autism in the media and my personal experiences therein. Today, I’d like to go a little broader, and tackle the topic from a macro perspective.

In recent times, you’ve probably heard “Representation Matters” oft repeated. Especially in prominent talking spaces like social media. But what does that mean, exactly?

Why “Representation Matters,” and how.

The short answer:

Diverse representation in media tells us that everyone has a place in the world. That everyone’s story matters.

The long answer:

It’s no secret that we begin engaging with media at a young age. When I was growing up in the 90’s and 00’s, TV and video games were often the babysitters of my peers. I was one of the few kids in my neighborhood whose parents weren’t divorced. The kids I knew? Not so much. Most of them were raised by single parents, grandparents and of course-the boob tube. I personally prefered books, when my mom wasn’t yelling “it’s too nice out to be holed up in that dark bedroom!”

Now, don’t mistake my preference for some kind of intellectual superiority. I watched plenty of TV too. Besides, books aren’t magically out of the equation. Printed material is our oldest form of media. And- often just as problematic. Though I will say- I saw a much broader range of people on covers adoring library shelves than I ever did titles on a TV roster. But, I digress. The point is: for many of us, consuming media begins at an early time of our life. And that’s where the problem starts. Even in my childhood, where The Magic School Bus, Hey Arnold, and Sesame Street showed people of all kinds, I can point to many that did not. Especially not people like me. Which did me a grave disservice. I didn’t know I was on the spectrum for a long time, and when I finally found out, I was horrified, thanks to what I had seen on TV.

Because media is not only a wonderful way to learn about people that don’t look, act or sound like us. It also informs our ideas of who we are, and what we can be. Whether we like it or not: it shapes how we understand the world. And it doesn’t stop with Childhood.

Time Changes Much, but not all.

Things are better now. Well, a little bit, anyway.

As an adult, I see more people like me on the screen nowadays. Which is nice.

Ish.

Why “ish?” Well…

Frequently, these “noticeably different” characters (read: Autistically coded) are branded “NOT AUTISTIC!” You heard it here first, folks! That one character (insert your favorite) is Totally Not Autistic. Despite being written in a way that gives every indication otherwise.

*Facepalm*

Now for some examples, which we’ll call the “Meh,” “The Bad” and the “Yikes.” For “fun,” we’ll also go into the off-air perceptions of the characters.

The “Meh.”

First on the list is Dr. Spencer Reid, from CBS’s “Criminal Minds.”

Dr. Reid is the youngest member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, having joined at the age of 22. He holds three B.A degrees in Sociology, Psychology and Philosophy, as well as three Ph.D’s in Engineering, Chemistry, and Mathematics.

He also has the social skills of a limp dishrag. Wait, what’s that? High Intelligence + Low Social Awareness? Hmmm…Then there’s his restrictive behavioral patterns, obsessive interests, and general “quirkiness!” that we could talk about. But let’s hear a quote from the actor who plays him, Matthew Gray Gubler:

“..an eccentric genius, with hints of schizophrenia and minor autism, Asperger’s Syndrome. Reid is 24, 25 years old with three PH.D.s and one can’t usually achieve that without some form of autism.”

Hoooo-boy. I could go into all the things wrong with this, including why the term “Asperger’s” is both horrific (TW: Eugenics,Ableism, N*zis) and harmful. However, today we’ll simply leave it with the fact that this term is no longer applicable, having been reclassified in 2013 as part of Autism Spectrum disorder.

The “Bad.”

Next up, we have Will Graham, from NBC’s Hannibal.

Like our first example, Will works for the FBI. He’s a gifted criminal profiler with “special” abilities, namely hyper empathy, which allows him to reconstruct the actions and fantasies of the killers he hunts. He’s intellectually gifted, hates eye contact, socializing, and prefers to spend…most of his time…alone.

Oh dear. Haven’t we been here before? But, I mean, he doesn’t have Autism! The show runner says so!

For Will Graham, there’s a line in the pilot about him being on the spectrum of autism or Asperger’s, and he’s neither of those things. He actually has an empathy disorder where he feels way too much and that’s relatable in some way. There’s something about people who connect more to animals than they do to other people because it’s too intense for whatever reason.

You can’t see me right now, but I’m cringing. A lot. This is just…ugh. I mean, for starters, I know a handful of autistic people who struggle with hyper empathy, which can make social situations overwhelming and hard to navigate. In fact, I happen to be one of them. Plus, there’s a cool little thing about how, frequently, people on the spectrum more readily identify with animals. But, y’know. Who am I to say? I’m just someone, one of many, who’s dealt with this my whole life.

Now, onto the “Yikes.”

*sigh*

And finally, we have BBC’s Sherlock, a modern adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s renowned “consulting” detective, and probably the most famous fictional character of all time.

Now, I’ll start by saying that the BBC incarnation is not the first to be Spectrum labeled. In fact, Sherlock was my childhood hero, and the first “person” I saw referred to this way. My aunt, an avid reader herself, casually remarked to a friend “I’ve always wondered if Holmes is Autistic,” after I came yammering on about how fantastic the books were. Had I not been champing at the bit to get back to my reading, I might have asked her what that meant.

I also believe this fandom driven speculation is why many detective type characters (see above) are often coded as Autistic, intentionally or otherwise.

In this New York Times article, Lisa Sanders, M.D. describes Holmes traits:

He appears oblivious to the rhythms and courtesies of normal social intercourse — he doesn’t converse so much as lecture. His interests and knowledge are deep but narrow. He is strangely “coldblooded,” and perhaps as a consequence, he is also alone in the world.

Now, before we go any father, let me take a moment to defend his creator. During the time Sir Arthur Conan Doyle first created his most famous work, Autism was not known. That isn’t to say it didn’t exist. We’ve always existed. In fact, it’s now believed that the Changeling Myth, a common European folk story, was a way to explain Autism. In one telling (there are a few) children displaying “intelligence beyond their years” and “uncanny knowledge” were imposters, traded out by Fae creatures for offspring of their own. Children believed to be “Changlings,” regretfully, often came to a bad end. A chilling reminder that the stories we tell impact our real lives.

So while Autism was at least somewhat recognized, it did not become its own official diagnosis until 1943.

Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes was first published in 1892. Now, as a writer who often draws from my personal reality, I imagine Doyle probably “wrote what he knew,” which is to say, acquainted with one or more Autistic people, he used them as inspiration.

On the other hand…

BBC’s Sherlock first aired in 2010. And while one might argue that the writers simply capitalized on the Autistic fan-theory, or took already available traits and exaggerated them for their version… they left a lot to be desired. Autism aside, this new Sherlock is…well…an asshole. Narcissistic, abusive and egocentric (to name a few) he sweeps his caustic behavior under the rug of “high functioning sociopath,” and blytly ignores the consequences.

Which is a major problem. Because while doing this, he’s still “obviously” (at least in the Hollywood sense) Autistic. In my previous post, where I said some characters are “too smart™, and logical© to ever have feelings, friends or empathy,” this is what I meant.

This is bad. We’re looping right back to Representation Matters. Bad representation, and the navigating of such, is just as important for writers to think about as good representation. Maybe even moreso. Because bad representation paints real people into cardboard, stereotyped people-shaped things. It otherizes. And it’s harmful. You would not believe the people I’ve met assume I’m not Autistic because I’m not an egotistical jerk. Why? Because they watched, you guessed it, BBC Sherlock.

Confession time:

Now here’s my little secret:

I love all of these characters. They are some of my favorite on tv. Why? Because for good or ill, I recognize myself in them. Finally, I can turn on the TV, and see myself. Or, somewhat, anyway.

My favorite character out of this list? Loath though I am to admit it… Is Sherlock. See, what those well meaning folks didn’t know (the ones who say I’m I’m “too nice,” to be Autistic) is… well, if we’re being honest, I wasn’t always nice. A few years ago, I was that guy. I was a jerk because I thought I was the smartest person in the room. Which is really not a good look. In fact, sitting down and watching the first season of sherlock, (around three or four years after it came out) made me realize how much of a jerk I actually was.

There are other things there too. Things that tie me to all these characters, that I didn’t list. But that’s for another today.

For now, I’d like to add a caveat or two:

1) I’ve watched all the shows listed above, and adore them. As I mentioned, Sherlock is my favorite. He’s also the one I’ve watched the most (Repeatedly, in fact. Whoops.) and I recognize it’s not all bad. In the end, he learned to treat people better (somewhat) and certainly became more human over time. And, there are other deeply problematic elements of the show I’d like to tackle, eventually.

*cough* Queerbating! *cough*

2) I’m well aware that the above cases are all thin, white, able bodied, “straight” males. But I chose these characters for a couple of reasons. One, they’re the most prominent type on TV. Again, we loop back around to representation, and why we need more positive, diverse examples of it.

And finally-

3) In my last post, I mentioned I’d give some “good” instances of Hollywood Autism trope. But I didn’t exactly do that. Partially, because half way through, I thought…perhaps…I’m not the best to judge what might be a good Autistic character. I mean, I’m sure someone will read this and think my current aforementioned characters are fine. Heck! They might even argue my perception here, and say the characters are just fine. I accept that. In my life, both on and off the page, I recognize that I cannot, should not (and don’t want to) speak for an entire community.

Because of this, I cannot tell you how to write a “good” Autistic character, or what media is “acceptable.” I can’t even really tell you what a bad character is. Sure, I have a lot of opinions about it. But- if you’re on the spectrum and like and identify with the above? That’s fine. I mean, even with all the problems I noted (and some I didn’t) I certainly do.

On the other hand, if you’re a writer, and you want to write a character from this (or any, for that matter) community you aren’t part of, I caution you.

Do your research. Preferably from multiple credible sources.

Talk to people on the spectrum about what it’s really like. (Though try to steer clear of asking for emotional labor.You could, say, hop on reddit and ask the community there, for instance, which is a no pressure way to obtain potentially decent info.)

Finally, whatever you do, remember this-

Autistic people can look like anyone. We can act, and think and be different, like anyone. We are real, living, breathing people. Not robots, not sob stories, not tropes. People. So if you write about us, write us like people. And your work will be all the better for it.

-Your Loving Vincent

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harrowdubois · 4 years

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okay, i said if there was interest i would think about making a post listing all the references i squeezed into the locked tomb fic i spent the last month or so writing, and now i’ve realised i don’t care if there’s interest because i want to be self-indulgent SO

under the cut is a (somewhat spoilery) chronological list of all the memes, vines, and cribbed tumblr posts, as well as homages to various books, tv shows, song lyrics, etc. that made their way into blessed with a wilder mind!

(cw for suicide mention)

this is of course a reference to the legendary bodybuilding forum thread where they did, actually, argue over how many days there are in a week (cw for ableist slurs in the thread)

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buzzfeed unsolved meme. i am dirt and i love to eat dirt

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this is so well-known it’s almost not worth listing it but oh my god they were roommates

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in itself, this isn’t a reference to anything in particular, but if you didn’t do this on your first read then i’d recommend taking another look at this scene and thinking about the specific wuthering heights/frankenstein/rebecca excerpts discussed by harrow and mercymorn but in relation to canon!harrow’s trauma/relationship with the body in htn :~)

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also not really a reference to anything in particular but when i looked back over the fic for this post it struck me that the ‘sex panther’ phrasing was probably at least partially unconsciously inspired by the shoebox project (professor mcgonagall’s oiled man panther was a formative moment for me, truly)

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cw gross/unsanitary: it’s the tinder poop window incident. i mentioned this in the end notes of the fic as being what i had in mind for that scene but if it’s too gross for you (UNDERSTANDABLY) then feel free to Death Of The Author me to your heart’s content!

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i listened to a lot of orville peck while writing this

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very very very loosely inspired by this clickhole article

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respectively: fourth of july by sufjan stevens / wuthering heights by emily bronte

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TWO BROS, CHILLIN IN A HOT TUB, FIVE FEET APART BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT GAY

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there was absolutely no need to stretch this across three paragraphs, and yet

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iconic

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i already linked to this one in the end notes of the fic itself, but it’s good, so here it is again

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i can’t find the actual original post but it’s this fucking horrible thing

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the last line is a reference to the secret history by donna tartt:

“Could it be because it reminds us that we are alive, of our mortality, of our individual souls- which, after all, we are too afraid to surrender but yet make us feel more miserable than any other thing? But isn't it also pain that often makes us most aware of self? It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one’s own. Even more terrible, as we grow old, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think?”

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a lyrical double whammy!

from ‘last words of a shooting star’ by mitski: “they’ll never know how i’d stared at the dark in that room with no thoughts like a blood-sniffing shark”

from ‘a better son/daughter’ by rilo kiley: “sometimes in the morning i am petrified but can’t move/awake but cannot open my eyes”

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shout-out to maybe my single favourite video game moment, the encounter with the sky cat in night in the woods: “There is a hole at the center of everything, and it is always growing. Between the stars I am seeing it. It is coming, and you are not escaping, and the universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, and there is nothing to remember it, not even the things beyond. And now there is only the hole... You are atoms, and your atoms are not caring if you are existing. Your atoms are monstrous existence.”

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“Nothing is ever fulfilled, not until the very end.” - rust cohle, true detective s1, this reference is VERY tonally dissonant because in context it’s actually grim as all hell but w/e w/e i couldn’t resist the shout-out

also harrow quotes from the goldfinch again here! i had the reference included before i read this post and realised tamsyn muir also quotes from the secret history in htn. terrible synergy

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they are in fact all real. you’re welcome

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this one’s doing a lot of work lmao. it’s paying homage to this quote by tamsyn muir talking about the draco-in-leather-pants trope in relation to ianthe by loosely referencing drop dead gorgeous, the best drarry fic ever written, in which harry is part veela

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“It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripides speaks of the Maenads: head thrown I back, throat to the stars, "more like deer than human being." To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are powerful mysteries. The bellowing of bulls. Springs of honey bubbling from the ground. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.” - that’s right it’s another reference to the secret history, with a little bit of mary oliver (tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?) sprinkled on top for flavour

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a small one, but it’s the goldfinch again: “And I feel I have something very urgent and serious to say to you, my non-existent reader, and I feel I should say it as urgently as if I were standing in the room with you...”

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my FUCKING cinnamon apple

what if i... put my minecraft bed.... next to yours... aha ha just kidding.... unless?

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[cw: suicide discussion in these next two]

robyn can have little a rust cohle quote, as a treat.

1. “I'd consider myself a realist, all right? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist... I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself. We are creatures that should not exist by natural law... We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self, that accretion of sensory experience and feelings, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody's nobody... I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction; one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.”

2. “This... This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm talkin' about time, and death, and futility. All right, there are broader ideas at work, mainly what is owed between us as a society for our mutual illusions. Fourteen straight hours of staring at DBs, these are the things you think of. You ever done that? You look in their eyes, even in a picture, doesn't matter if they're dead or alive, you can still read 'em. You know what you see? They welcomed it... Not at first, but... right there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to just... let go. Yeah, they saw, in that last nanosecond, they saw... what they were. You, yourself, this whole big drama, it was never more than a jerry-rig of presumption and dumb will, and you could just let go. To finally know that you didn't have to hold on so tight. To realize that all your life - you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain - it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person.”

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ahaaa this one’s particularly rough. evil monkey no one alive dot jpg

“Later, that dozy embrace solidified in his memory as the single moment of artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face because he did not want to see or feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he thought, they’d never got much farther than that. Let be, let be.” - annie proulx, brokeback mountain

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a TRIPLE lyrical whammy!

- harrow’s words to gideon in the dream are a bit of a vague reference to the song ‘adventures in solitude’ by the new pornographers (”we thought we lost you/welcome back”) - gideon’s words to harrow are a reference to the song ‘blush’ by wolf alice (”you’ve got two hands to take all you can/but don’t take too long”) - what harrow texts to gideon is a line from ‘about today’ by the national, aka the most devastating song ever written (”hey, are you awake?/yeah i’m right here”...)

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i CANNOT find a clip of it but harrow’s repetition of “life is short... it’s short” was me paraphrasing from memory a line from pride (2014), because i am the worst

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spooky scary skeletons!

“jail for gideon” is obviously a reference to the “jail for mother” tweet that tm also referenced in htn. so, not original in the slightest, but it’s a great tweet

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one of my favourite tumblr posts

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because naberius tern absolutely would watch rick and morty. he would. i know it in my heart.

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and that’s it, i think. hope you enjoyed this horrid little post and my horrid little fic!

#the locked tomb #books #robyn posts

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