#this is satire if it wasn’t already obvious

[pixlelixr]

TALLY HALL BUT GAY (Bad) 😡😡😡

Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum

Good GAY

GAYer

Welcome to TRANSGENDER Hall

Taken for a RIDE TO HELL

The BI-dding

Be BISEXUAL

Banana MANKISSER

Just ASEXUAL

Spring and a SEXUALITY

Two Wuv

Haiku FOR GAY PPL

The Whole LGBTQ+ COMMUNITY And You

13 (unlucky number)

Ruler of EveryTRANSGENDER

Hidden in the SIN

Mucka BluckAGENDER

[green-typewriterz]

i would love literally anything sam winchester related the lack of fics r astounding.. maybe something fluffy?? ive had a bad week would so cheer me up

Best fake-real husband

ASKS ARE OPEN

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: You and Sam go undercover in a small town to find out what's been happening to the disappearing couples.

ASK: above

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, awkward moments, mid season sam (in my mind it’s season 5 so its not following canon plot)

Author notes: Thankyou so much for the ask!!! I hope this is good :))) also Sam is the leader of the Sassy man army and if you don’t think so you can leave. Also thank you to @midsummeranderson for helping me plan <3

word count: 4110

You had always hated suburban houses, they just seemed empty, unforgiving. Though you didn’t have much of a choice. Bobby had a case and you two were to go undercover.

”Husband and wife…” Sam began, a glint in his eyes as he moved around the open plan kitchen, opening the windows to salve the heat that bit at their necks.

You smiled in reply, laying out weapons to move to the spare room. “Not awkward at all.” You replied and he laughed, shrugging his usual flannel onto a chair and digging into his bag.

Sam looked up, smiling, holding two rings in his hand. “Nope. I’m going to be the best fake-real husband ever. Dean thinks I can’t and I’m kinda determined to prove him wrong.” You sigh and shake your head, but there’s no annoyance behind it. Trust Dean to make a game out of it.

A piece of hair fell in front of his eyes - it’s so long now that it reaches his shoulders, princelike. “Well then I guess I’ll have to be a good wife.” He hummed in agreement and you tucked his hair back behind his ear and a smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’m off to a good start, Sam Heathcliff.”

You gently slipped the ring onto your finger, the metal slightly too big for you. It was your grandmothers, a mix of silver and sapphire. Sam places his dad’s wedding band on his own hand, fiddling with it gently. It made you smile softly, how the ring was cold against your skin - your grandmother had always wanted you to wear it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your memories and the two of you looked to each other with confusion, Dean wasn’t meant to be here until later that evening. You opened the door cautiously, flitting into character when you saw a 57 year old woman holding a large pie in her hands.

She grinned cheerily, pushing the dish forward into your hands as she spoke, you didn’t really have another choice but to take it (you’d probably hand it off to Dean later.) “Hi,” the voice sounded fake, satirical. She never met your eyes, she was almost entirely focused on Sam. “I heard there was a new couple in town, thought I’d do the neighbourly thing and say hi.” She began, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a particularly suggestive manner. “We’d love to have you over this weekend, monthly barbeque.”

You looked at Sam, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving and wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’d love to…” you waited for a name, the woman smiled with annoyance, as if she hated you speaking to her.

“Helen. Watson.”

The two of you introduced yourself and agreed to go, knowing the gathering would be useful to get information. With one last glance at Sam, Helen turned around and left, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Dean came round that evening, constantly grinning and mocking and (as you had expected) he greeted the pie with open arms. “Look you two,” he began, as if he were an expert on the subject, “You’re practically a couple already, just… act like you’re in your honeymoon phase for the old women.”

He stated this as if it were an obvious fact and you raised your brows at his use of the word ‘honeymoon’. Sam looked away in annoyance (Something Dean found extremely funny). It seemed as though the younger Winchester couldn’t wait to get rid of Dean and so, as soon as he had finished his pie, he was forced out the door and back to the impala. There was a second sigh of relief when the door closed.

Though it had seemed like a smart idea at the time, the two of you were sorely regretting filling the spare room with hunting gear as it had left you with one bedroom. “I’ll take the couch,” Sam said as he gathered some clothes to sleep in, you stood in the doorway, arms folded as you shook your head.

“Not a chance, you’d barely fit on this bed imagine how uncomfortable you'd be downstairs.” You argued and he shook his head, trying to claim that he’d slept worse. Eventually, the two of you came to an agreement. Sam would sleep over the covers, you’d sleep under them (he always got hot at night anyway - especially during the summer).

You excused yourself to the bathroom and by the time you had gotten back Sam was already asleep, long hair falling gently over his eyes. You lay down beside him and got comfortable, though you forgot just how much Sam moved in his sleep. He seemed to subconsciously move closer to you, warm, tan skin flush against yours.

His face was inches from yours, holding a gentle smile as if he were happily dreaming (though that was something that didn’t happen often). You gently moved the hair from his eyes and he moved closer still, broad shoulders brushing against you. You fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth and awoke with his arms wrapped securely around you. He wasn’t awake yet, you always woke up before him.

You eventually found it in yourself to move from his grip and headed downstairs, intending to make breakfast for the two of you. He was downstairs a few moments later, hair a sweet, tousled mess on his head. You smiled sweetly but neither of you spoke - there wasn’t much need to.

The two of you seemed to move around each other as if you had been married for years as you got ready for the barbeque, passing each other what you needed wordlessly. Chalk it up to years of hunting together.

“Todays gonna be entertaining for me.” You stated, a smirk on your face. He tilted his head in confusion as if he were a dog and you smiled, eyes drifting to his shoulders for a moment. “C’mon Sam, it’s a town of 47 year old women who hate their husbands and you’re a - very awkward - 6 '4 man. A handsome one at that.” He blushed and turned away, continuing to get ready.

His hands fiddled with the jacket in front of him. “Yeah, so?” You smiled at him, opening the front door as you spoke again.

“So, it’s gonna be fun watching you squirm.” Your smile turned to a grin and Sam shook his head, following you out the door.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You were right, as expected. Although most were fine, one specific group of women made an exaggerated effort to fan themselves, whispering to each other about Sam. They almost immediately ushered you over. You sent a look to your best friend and headed toward them.

Immediately, they began to gossip, asking you about how you and Sam met and you could barely get a word in edgeways. There were compliments thrown at you too, but you knew they were just to stop you ‘feeling jealous.’

“How did you get so lucky?” One woman, Helen, asked. Her voice was wrought with envy as she stared over at Sam. Part of you understood why they were staring, Sam looked strangely good in the traditional small town husband attire. His white polo had a few buttons undone and the fabric was tight on his arms (Dean had ordered the wrong size) and his long hair was held back from his head by a pair of sunglasses, a few stray pieces falling over his eyes. The only part you weren’t a fan of was the khaki shorts…but it seemed to be the dress code in the town so you brushed it off - you and Dean would probably make fun of him for it later. He felt his gaze on you and turned to meet your eyes, smiling softly and winking. The women around you giggled and you rolled your eyes, to which he laughed.

It turned out that talking to the four women was the best thing for the case, they absolutely adored gossip. “Couples have been going missing, it always starts with the husbands.” Margaret whispered excitedly, “It happened to the couple who were here before you, sweet things.” she continued, sipping on a glass of wine.

You tilted your head, something Sam recognised from a distance, you’d had an idea. “Do they leave anything behind? People can’t just disappear?” You asked, pulling your hand through your hair.

Helen shook her head. “The damn council barely clean out the houses.” You nodded. Bingo. If the house hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned, chances are there’d be evidence. Helen continued to ramble and you were listening intently, until a hand gently slid onto your waist.

You let out a gasp but the strong smell of cedarwood and amber calmed you down. You knew exactly who it was. His grip pulls tighter around you and you lean into him, head resting on his chest. You felt your face flush - something you were praying he didn’t notice.

“How did you two meet?” One woman asked and you looked at each other, making sure without ever even speaking that you had the story right.

Sam leaned his head on yours and sweetly said, “why don’t you take this one, honey.” his eyes sparkled with mischief, he was trying to throw you off and the hand that was massaging your side was proof of that.

You met his eyes with the same excitement, if he wanted to play, you were really going to go for it. “We both worked as government agents, met on the field. Hence all the scars.” The women nodded in realisation, looking at some of the injuries you hadn’t quite managed to hide. “He wasn’t the biggest fan of mine at first but I grew on him, isn’t that right darling?”

Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving yours as he replied, “and now I don’t want to be without her ever again.” He found that sentence to be more true than he thought.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sam sent an exasperated look your way as he raked a hand through his hair (and sadly took the glasses off his head). “How were the boys?” you asked with a smile and he turned to make sure no one was watching before dropping the facade.

“I’m actually shocked how much I don’t know about football.” He replied and you both laughed, him leaning into you as he smiled. He looked outside at the group of gossipping women before adding on, “they seemed…friendly.”

You laughed, “to you, sure, but I think it’s because they want you in their bed.” The sentence was blunt and Sam’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing a strong red. You, however, continued as if you had never said anything, “I think it could be witches? We’d have to search for hex bags though.” He nodded, not meeting your eyes (he was slightly flustered).

The two of you eventually said your goodbyes and made your way down the street, Sam looked annoyed with himself. “What’s up?”

He sighed, “this one guy, Glenn, roped me into holding a housewarming party…” You stared at him incredulously, did he not try to say no? Sam recognised the look in your eyes and defended himself, “the man was incredibly persuasive!” You shook your head but knew there was no way out of it. You weren’t the best at party planning.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The long stretch of grocery store met you as you and Sam stood in the doorway. You didn’t often do this as hunters so it was a slightly daunting task. You looked at each other with tired eyes and went your separate ways, deciding to cover ground as if it were a hunt…just for nachos.

You rounded a corner only to see Helen stood there. Not wanting to be stuck in conversation again, you instantly turned on your heel, hiding behind a row of sauces. Though, something caught your eye. In Helen’s basket, clearly hidden just not very well, was a large amount of herbs and salt. What got you interested was the extreme amount of basil and sage.

Witches. Had to be.

Sam approached you, smiling gently. Something about the situation made him look so… domestic. You tried to motion to him what you were thinking but he seemed so fixated on you, his reaching out for yours. “Can you do your job?” you spoke, the words sounding harsher than you had intended. He instantly pulled back, face twisting with annoyance.

“What?”

“Take the hint, Sam. Behind me.”

You continued to whisper back and forth in annoyance, alerting Helen who watched in confusion. You quickly turned to look at her and sighed as she approached, hiding the herbs with the rest of her groceries. “Lovers quarrel?” she joked and the two of you laughed in the same way Bobby would when Dean told another of his bad jokes.

Sam made excuses as you looked at her, trying to see if you could spot any witch runes on her. It seemed as though she was trying to do the same to you. “Well isn’t that tattoo…neat!” She said, trying to hide the venom in her voice as she pointed out the anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone. Great.

You looked at Sam in annoyance and turned back to Helen. “Thanks! I saw it in a magazine!” You tried to explain away but you knew you’d been caught, she had spotted you and you her. Though she was very keen to stay in conversation, Sam made a quick excuse and you both left as soon as you could.

“Told you it was witches.”

Sam didn’t reply. The car journey back was completely silent, an unspoken annoyance building in the both of you. Neither of you said a word until the front door closed. “Nice job letting her see the tattoo.” Sam said annoyedly, turning to look at you.

You sighed and turned away, packing away the groceries. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time actually hunting we’d be done by now! This isn’t exactly a hard case, we don't need more bodies to our name.” The reply was sharp and annoyed.

He suddenly grabbed your wrist so you’d look at him. “I’m doing my job just fine.” His eyes were locked with yours. You stepped closer.

“No, you’re not. You’re distracted.” Sam scoffed, his minty breath fanning against your cheek from how close you were. His hand was still firmly on your wrist.

An annoyed smile spread across his face and a muscle in his neck tensed. “Oh yeah? And why would I be distracted?” You stared directly at him, from his long hair that fell over his unreadable gaze to the smoothness of his bronzed skin.

You found yourself stepping closer again. “You tell me.”

There was a crushing silence, the only sound being your sharp breaths. Suddenly, Sam’s grip on your hand moved to your waist and he pulled you into him, his lips colliding with yours. You leaned into him, hands grabbing his hair harshly. He kissed you as if he were hungry, as if he had been waiting for years - maybe he had. He lifted you easily and sat you on the kitchen counter, leaning back from the kiss for a split second. His chest rose quickly in hot breaths as he kissed you again. You bit his bottom lip - letting blood drip as his hands gripped your skin.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The party was loud and irritating, there wasn’t a moment where you had time for yourself, not one point where you weren’t ’y/n Heathcliff’. You and Sam had barely talked after the evening before - you didn’t know what to say.

You knew Helen would be at the party, not only would it be good to keep up appearances but she could get her next victim from it. Sam sent you a look and you nodded once, heading toward the spare bedroom in search of weapons, just in case.

A small, easily hidden knife was being placed into your waistband when Sam opened the door, closing it harshly behind him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “had to get away from Miriam.”

You laughed gently and went back to preparing, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Helen’s here.”

“I know.”

Silence again. You sighed, “and you just left her out there? Alone?” His brows furrowed and he offered a witty remark, starting another hushed argument between the two of you.

On the other side of the door, Miriam and Margaret pressed their ears to the wood, giggling like school children at how the argument sounded to them. Through the muffled walls, all they could hear was gasps and sharp noises - of course they assumed what they wanted.

Sam’s hands pushed through his hair as he sighed, uncertain of what to do, when suddenly the door started opening. He rushed forward and pushed against it, rushing out a quick, “one moment!” All he heard in reply was laughs.

“What do we do?” He asked nervously and you stood still, nervous, until a thought popped into your head. You held your hands out - asking for permission and, once he nodded, you placed your hands gently in his soft hair, ruffling it. It annoyed you how he still managed to look good.

Then, once he had done the same for you, you looked him up and down, deciding his outfit was far too…tidy. First it was one button undone, then another (you unbuttoned a third for personal reasons). A blush rose on the tips of his ears.

He went to open the door when you realised something was still missing and, in a quick moment of panic, you rushed forward and grabbed his face, kissing him harshly on the lips (you were purposely trying to smudge your lipstick onto him). Sam made a noise in shock but found himself leaning into it, eyes lingering closed for a moment longer after you had pulled away.

Shit. He thought. He definitely liked you.

Eventually, the door was opened and Sam met the two women with an awkward smile. “Oh!’ Margaret began, giggling, “I was going to offer a drink, but I see you’re occupied…” The woman looked at one another, laughed again and walked away, leaving Sam blushing with embarrassment. The door was closed once more and when you were both sure they had walked away, laughter spilt into the room.

He shook his head and smiled, stepping closer to you. “Close one.” You smiled gently, staring into his eyes (the light was hitting them perfectly). There was silence again - neither of you knew what to do.

”Are we ever going to talk about last night?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. His features turned more serious as he sat down on the bed.

He stared at you, lipstick still in a smudge on his face. “I’m not sure what to say about it.” You neared him, hands trailing over his shoulders. Then, slowly, you leaned into him, lifting his chin with your finger as you felt his soft lips against yours. There was something impossibly gentle about it and you weren’t sure anyone had kissed you that softly before.

”Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”

He smiled. You kissed the corner of his grin and headed back downstairs, attempting to fix your hair as you went. You were met with stares as you entered the kitchen - Miriam had most definitely told everyone… at least it sold the cover.

Time passed with an almost excruciating level of slowness and Sam not making a re-entrance back downstairs wasn’t helping either (you had no one to distract you). Eventually, the party cleared out yet Sam was nowhere to be seen - now you began to panic.

You said goodbye to the final few neighbours and headed back upstairs, calling Sam’s name. The lack of response worried you. The first door by the stairs - the one that unfortunately led to your weapons room - was ajar, scratches around the lock. You pulled the dagger from your waistband and slowly opened the door, sighing as you saw the bloodstain on the floor. You had a feeling you knew who had taken him and where he had gone.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You had managed to track him to Helen’s house, hiding around the back to get a good view through the sliding glass doors. Sat, tied to a chair in the middle of the main room, was Sam. His face was bruised and bloody and his expression looked annoyed, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Helen, Miriam and Margaret circled around him, playing with his hair and gathering items they needed for the spell.

”Poor Sam,” Helen began - you assumed she was the leader, “you’d think you’d be able to fight back against three 57 year olds.” Miriam headed into the kitchen as Margaret laughed, they almost reminded you of the witches from Macbeth.

”You’d also think, considering she’s a hunter, that your ‘wife’ would be better at hiding.” Suddenly, a surprisingly strong pair of hands grabbed you, pushing you against the wall.

You struggled against the grip but it was no use, your hands being painfully tied behind your back. Miriam ushered you into the living room, retiring you to a chair beside Sam. You met his eyes with an apologetic gaze and he returned it.

It was your turn to feel the bunt of the witches’ fun now, knives sliced at your skin and hair was cut from your head, you knew they’d done it somewhere visible on purpose. They grabbed at your face, nails digging into flesh and smiling as Sam protested.

Eventually, the three left the room and you and Sam began planning. You shuffled your chair toward him, trying to see if he could reach the dagger you always hid in your shoe. His hand brushed over your shin but he couldn’t reach any further.

With one final attempt, Sam tried to lean on the chair to reach, which ended with him toppling both chairs. He landed on top of you, his chest flush against yours. “Sorry.” He spoke, words hoarse from lack of breath.

Luckily for you, the fall had broken the ropes around your ankles and - though it hurt like hell - you manoeuvred your leg just enough to read the blade. Sam's hair tickled against your face and his lips tickled your neck - but that was something you’d have to think about later.

“Nice try you two.” Helen spoke as she waltzed back in. You hid the blade in your sleeve as your chair was fixed once more and while the three were busy working, you managed to slice through the ropes. you waited patiently, watching with a newfound confidence. Luckily for you, Maragaret was the type of witch to intimidate - her favourite tactic being getting as close as she could.

You took the opportunity and thrust the blade forward, stabbing through her throat. She screamed out and you stood up making your way over to the other two to fight. You took a fair few punches, but it was nothing new and soon enough the two others were on the floor too, holding onto the last of their life.

The large salt circle was immediately broken and Sam was freed, you apolising every time you accidentally touched any of his injuries. “That was badass.” Sam complimented and you laughed, leaning your hair back tiredly.

You turned away, starting to destroy the spell further as you spoke, “Ready to finally stop being husband and wife?” You asked and a small smirk rose on his face, hands snaking back over your waist again.

With sudden passion, he spun you back around, his eyes glinting. “Not really.”

With that, Sam lifted you off the ground, hands securely gripping your thighs as he kissed your neck. You had your back pushed against the wall as he moved to kiss your lips, your hands pulling at the back of his hair. He sighed and went to kiss you again when the front door swung open, revealing a disgusted (but slightly relieved) Bobby and a grinning Dean.

”We can explain?” Sam offered, gently lowering you back to the ground. You couldn’t look at one another.

Dean shook his head, smiling like a madman. “I don’t know Sammy, seems pretty obvious to me.” Then, with the same giddy happiness he turned to Bobby, who had since fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.

Typical. You and Sam shared an annoyed look as The other two hunters headed back out the door. ‘“C’mon you lovebirds,” Bobby began, “There’s a vamp nest in Chicago.”

[greycappedjester]

Update News

So, I think I can return back to a semi-normal schedule.

Next chapter of Department of Mysteries should be out next weekend and that should mark the return of an every-two-week schedule.

Thanks for your patience. Here's a sneak peak (not edited yet, subject to small changes, etc.):

Ministry Education Changes Report Early Success!

Minister Daishou’s education reforms, introduced at Hogwarts this year, are already reporting progress.

For the last few years, Hogwarts has faced mounting public pressure after a number of disastrous hiring decisions by the Hogwarts Board of Directors, most notably led by Headmaster Ukai. In addition, many have claimed that our country’s premiere school has fallen woefully behind in safety standards, including a rash of petrifications three years ago from a still unknown cause and--of course--the tragic kidnapping and death of a student last year during the Triwizard Tournament held on school grounds. 

With some even calling for Headmaster Ukai’s resignation, Minister Daishou answered public pressure and instituted new reform measures. This includes Ministry pre-approval of curriculum and hiring decisions, starting with the war decorated Auror Minaho Ono taking over for Defense Against the Dark Arts this year.

These measures are already being heralded as a success, as the Prophet learned in our exclusive interview with Deputy Minister Kuroo.

“Children are our future,” the Deputy Minister said. “And we had the Ministry understand that the most important part of making them thrive is providing a safe environment where they can focus on their education and leave the messy politics for the adults. After all, the last thing that belongs in school walls is politics.”

When asked about new professor Minaho Ono, Deputy Minister Kuroo had this to say.

“Oh, she’s doing brillant already,” he told us. “Of course, it’s a challenge catching up the students after years of Headmaster’s Ukai’s, well, less well considered hiring decisions. However, we are hearing every evidence that she’s been mentoring the students wonderfully, a result we should see come with the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s this year.”

On student adjustment, Deputy Minister Kuroo wasn’t worried. “The students love the changes. In fact, I’ve been hearing from my son Tetsuro that the students are even hoping that the Ministry is allowed to do more in the upcoming--”

The newspaper caught on fire and rotated in a rather ominous flaming orb above Kuroo’s wand.

“Now, I definitely never said that,” Kuroo commented. “Think I can sue for libel?”

“The paper or your father,” Suga asked. “Either way, legally yes; practically no. I don’t think any barrister’s going to hear your case.”

“Bloody practicality,” Kurooo muttered in a tone of someone deeply shackled by the coils of the mundane.

“Anyone else vaguely concerned that the Prophet’s being even more obvious that they’re the Minister’s little lap dog.” Oikawa poked at the ashes that Kuroo had finally let drop. “I wonder what they’re wanting for treats. The Minister better watch out for his pant leg.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Can’t believe they’re our only real paper.”

“They didn’t used to be.” Suga sighed, fiddling with his silver and green tie. “A lot of other ones were around before the war; but, they went out of business or, well, were put out of business by the Ghosts. The Daily Prophet was always the most…circumvent about their criticisms of the Giant.”

“And to the cowards, go the spoils,” Kuroo mock toasted. “Too bad, I heard some of the old ones were golden--especially the cartoons.”

“Oh yeah, they’re awesome,” Bokuto brightened. “Great Aunt Ena’s still got some Mad Bats preserved in the attic!” 

Iwaizumi quirked an eyebrow. “Mad…Bats?

“It was kind of a satire strip about, um….oh,” Suga’s eyes went to the Great Hall’s entrance. “That’s Daichi. I need to go talk to him about our Muggle Studies project.”

“Don’t you have class in like,” Kuroo checked his watch, “twelve minutes?”

“It’ll only take a bit,” Suga said distractedly, already heading for the door.

The group went back to their breakfast.

Bokuto made a weird twitch movement with his jaw.

They ignored it.

He did it again a few minutes later.

They continued to ignore it.

Bokuto lifted his toast as if he was going to start scraping it across his mouth.

Iwaizumi whacked him on the arm. “You’ve gotta quit doing that. Professor Takeda nearly called you out in class because he thought you, like, accidentally transfigured your teeth or something.”

“But, it’s itchy!” Bokuto complained, sticking out his tongue and poking at it…which didn’t really make anything look less weird. “Why didn’t Matsukawa and Hanamaki tell us the leaf was going to be so itchy?”

“Because they’re sadists,” Oikawa said reasonably.

Iwaizumi laughed. “What he said.”

“Look, just drink some hot tea or something. It helps, promise.” Kuroo shoved some at him. “We only need to make it like a bit more than two weeks.”

“That’s a lot!” Bokuto pouted.

“Just distract yourself,” Iwaizumi told him. “Weren’t you going to talk to Akaashi? How’d that go?”

“I haven’t done it yet,” Bokuto mumbled.

The rest looked at him.

“What? I’m still thinking about what I want to say,” Bokuto said. “It’s scary! I don’t like this. Talking to Keiji shouldn't be scary; it’s Keiji.”

Before they could respond, Suga dropped back to his seat. “Sorry about that.”

“Figure out the project,” Iwaizumi asked.

“The project?” Suga tilted his head. “Oh, yeah, we did. I think we know exactly how to go about it now. Anyway, how’s everyone else’s classes going?”

Under the table, Kuroo kicked Oikawa in the shin. 

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Fine, I guess. Really the only one that’s a hassle is Defense.”

Kuroo kicked Oikawa again and Oikawa turned to glare at him. Kuroo met his eyes before looking discreetly at Suga’s neck, then back at Oikawa.

“Oh, the patronus? Yeah, I’m not making progress with mine either.” Suga fiddled with his tie again, the colors red and gold.

Oikawa’s eyes lit up with unholy glee and he looked back at Kuroo. Kuroo smirked.

“Wait, why are you worried about patronuses already?” Bokuto asked. “She said we’ve got to the end of the year.”

“I know, but we’ve got the rest of our N.E.W.T.s then, too,” Suga said. “Do you really want to worry about both of them at once.”

Bokuto shrugged.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the others, Oikawa and Kuroo were doing their level best at achieving spontaneous mental communication through eye contact alone.

“The Herbology N.E.W.T shouldn’t be too bad,” Iwaizumi said. “Professor Shimada’s got us working on cross-pollinating our own hybrids so it should be mostly done by the time they review them for the exam.”

Oikawa glanced at Suga then back at Kuroo, tilting his head in a question. Both paused before simultaneously shaking their heads.

“Yeah, I’m not that worried about Arithmancy either,” Bokuto said. “I mean the main thing with that is meeting Professor Yamiji’s publication timeline. Compared to that, the exam’s gonna be easy.”

“Sounds like it won’t be too bad, then.” Suga gathered his bag.

“Yeah, probably because we aren’t crazy enough to take seven classes,” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

“Right, how is that going…,” Suga trailed off, finally catching Kuroo and Oikawa whispering to each other. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing,” they both answered quickly.

Suga blinked.

“What were you saying, Suga,” Oikawa distracted him.

“I was just asking how you’re class schedule’s going,” Suga said.

“Oh, that. Fantastic,” Oikawa gave a thumbs up. “Invigorating even. Nothing to worry about.”

“...Okay.” Suga stood up. “Well, speaking of class, I better get going. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“We’re wonderful,” Kuroo agreed, throwing an arm around Oikawa’s shoulder. “Better hurry to class, though. Don’t want to be late.”

Oikawa beamed. “Absolutely. Have fun!”

Suga shook his head and walked away, deciding to ignore his two friends’ decidedly weird behavior. He probably shouldn’t have known better.

[tenuousnessless7]

Starting to realize that one scene from Barry where they cancel Sally’s show before it even came out because it didn’t hit the right “taste clusters” or whatever was wasn’t satire, like, not even a little. Particularly with Netflix, it is sooo obvious before a show even comes out whether they’re going to give it more than one season. Like, they’re out here just throwing money at a few shows a year, advertising the hell out of them - and then wow! People watch them! And they get renewed! But God forbid some stuffed suit uses a few test screening an and an algorithm to determine that your show just doesn’t Have It, its just dumped into the platform to fade into obscurity. Except, of course, a lot of these shows are actually really good and find a dedicated and enthusiastic audience, and maybe would have found a bigger audience if they’d been given half a decent chance, but they’ve already written them off before they even come out, so, whoops! Not enough views! It’s just too bad but we have to cancel it! Anyway, Netflix is the enemy of creativity and I hope it dies 👍

[scotianostra]

The last two posts were meant to be scheduled for tomorrow, oh well onto todays anniversaries....

January 17th 1883 saw the birth of the writer Compton Mackenzie.

I've explained in mainy posts that just because you weren't born on Scottish soil, it doesn't mean you are not Scottish, well I'll leave it to the Scottish writer Andro Linklater this time tp exoplain Compton Mackenzies credentails, not that they should be needed. Liklater penned a biography on Mackenzie, so is more than qualified;

“(He) wasn’t born a Scot, and he didn’t sound like a Scot. But nevertheless his imagination was truly Scottish.”

Edward Montague Compton Mackenzie was born in West Hartlepool in 1883 and raised in London. His was a theatrical family – many of whose members used Compton as their stage name. His grandfather Henry Compton was a well-known Shakespearean actor of the Victorian era. A history graduate of Magdalen College, Oxford, the young Mackenzie published his first novel in 1912 but his writing career was stalled by the outbreak of war.

He quickly signed up and saw action at Gallipoli. In 1915 he was recruited into the fledgling Secret Service and was posted across the eastern Mediterranean. Although he would later be awarded a knighthood, Mackenzie was no darling of the British establishment. In 1932 he was hauled before the courts and fined for breaching the Official Secrets Act for writing Greek Memories – a candid reflection of his time as a spy. At a time when the British public was scarcely aware of the security services, Mackenzie freely outlined its organisation. It was withdrawn from sale and was only published in full as recently as 2011.

In 1933 he took revenge on the Secret Service with Water on the Brain, an obvious swipe at the Service. Despite its satirical cover, he managed to include a few genuine morsels – such as the fact that the chief of the Service always wrote in green ink. At story’s end, the location of the Secret Service’s headquarters is revealed in a spy thriller and the spooks have to move out. The building becomes an asylum for “the servants of bureaucracy who have been driven mad in the service of the country”. By this point Mackenzie was already resident in Scotland and had become close friends with the poet Hugh MacDiarmid and the influential writer, thinker and adventurer Robert Cunninghame Graham. Together they helped establish the National Party of Scotland in 1928, which emerged in 1934 as the modern SNP.

Mackenzie settled on the Hebridean island of Barra and concentrated on his most ambitious project, The Four Winds of Love. Gavin Wallace, another of his biographers, later wrote: “The Four Winds of Love, published in six volumes between 1937 and 1945 and containing almost 1 million words, is one of the most ambitious Scottish novels of the twentieth century, an enormous historical odyssey which anatomizes the politics of peripheral nationalism both throughout Europe and in Britain, again through semi-autobiographical character development.”

But it was Mackenzie’s comic novels that won him wider fame and fortune. Whisky Galore, based on a real-life incident in Eriskay in 1941, was first adapted for the big screen by Ealing studios and released to popular acclaim in 1948. The enduring appeal of the novel was later summed up by one Scotsman literary critic:

“So what if it perpetrates the old, cliched ‘Brigadoon’ myth? Scots, English, American or Martian, no-one can resist this tale of ill-gotten whisky gain on a Scottish island in wartime. It’s simply hilarious.”

Such was Mackenzie’s status as an elder statesman of letters he was knighted in 1952 and remained a much-respected cultural commentator for the rest of his life. In later years he lived in Drummond Place, in Edinburgh’s New Town, where he died from cancer aged 89, in 1972, he is buried on Barra.

Lavish tributes followed. Dr Robert McIntyre, president of the SNP and the first Scottish nationalist elected to parliament, described Mackenzie as “the Grand Old Man of Scotland”. Novelist Eric Linklater said he was a “consummate stylist, who, unlike most writers, also lived with style.”

There are many Mackenzie quotes I could call on, but my favourite is

“Love makes the world go round? Not at all. Whisky makes it go round twice as fast.”

[sleepymarmot]

TÁR (2022)

[Watched on February 18th. Beware, this post is 4k words long.]

Glad I was watching this at home and alone. I don’t think I’ve ever done so much googling during a movie. The experience felt like reading a heavy novel that needed footnotes but lacked them. A note taken during the first half hour: “Was the script written by musicians? I feel like I’m watching a documentary”. Wikipedia says that the writer/director has a background in music, and a conductor served as a consultant; the work really shows — I don’t have the expertise to tell if it’s realistic or not, but at least the illusion of realism is strong.

The interview and the master class felt painfully immersive. I was genuinely intimidated by Lydia’s presence as the teacher from hell. That poor kid was just waiting for this to be over and then leave and never return… I was surprised to see him (them?) snap and actually walk out, good for them! Also was surprised that Lydia didn’t make the obvious comeback about the student’s antifeminist usage of the word “bitch”. And to address the actual content of the debate: I think Lydia’s argument about reducing people to their demographic was backwards. Marginalized people already get judged in this way; giving the straight white men who formed the canon the same treatment instead of accepting them as the default is an intentional reversal. Sure, the student fails to present their opinion in a rhetorically strong way, because they didn’t come here for a political dispute and because they’re currently being bullied by an extremely powerful person, but said powerful person then presents an even weaker point as a counterargument!

“Finally, a film with the appropriate amount of Discourse,” I thought during this scene! And it’s not the only one where Lydia’s opinions on these matters are contrasted with others’ — notably, with the younger and more progressive Francesca and Olga. Relatedly, the fact that Lydia doesn’t recognize the date of the International Women’s Day was hilarious to me both as a feminist and as a Russian (it’s a public holiday over here, even if completely depoliticized in quite a misogynistic way). Overall the film felt like a very honest and good-faith look at a person who rejects solidarity/class consciousness (as opposed to a certain Best Picture winner, I have to add). I wonder, to what extent did Lydia think she was behaving in a normal and okay way, until the consequences caught up with her? The film maintains a balance between artful ambiguity of the protagonist’s intentions and commitment to following her around and showing her subjective world. I thought it was even more successful in creating another balance: neither whitewashing Lydia’s behavior nor making her overly hate-inducing in a satirical way, but letting the viewers see her up close, in different contexts, both as how she chooses to present herself for the public and how she acts in private, and leaving the viewer the space to empathize with her or judge her as they see fit.

Even if the pacing was noticeably slow for my awful attention span, and the combination of that pacing with the difficult content led to many breaks in the viewing, in a lot of ways the film was more aligned with my taste than much of what I’ve seen recently. I mean, even the density of the script isn’t exactly a downside; I enjoy looking things up while reading, so doing the same while watching a movie isn’t inherently bad, just unusual. I liked the realistic, psychological style of writing, directing, and acting. Making almost all music diegetic worked well. The sets and costumes were beautiful and expressed the setting’s aesthetic and personality of the characters inhabiting them just as well as they should. I wasn’t as in love with the cinematography as some seem to be, but there’s a lot to praise there too.

I was slightly unprepared for the secondhand embarrassment. The Elgar concerto announcement was excruciating to watch, I had to take a break. Same with the big recording at the end, to a lesser extent. I’d seen a gif of Lydia attacking someone on stage and I was worried she’d have a breakdown while performing; thankfully, what actually happened was less embarrassing.

Somewhere near the middle of the movie I wrote down “So far this film’s only flaw is how much effort it takes to watch it”. Further into the second half, I did find something to be dissatisfied with. I was confused by the hauntings; at first I assumed Lydia was just hallucinating, but as they became more and more real I couldn’t understand whether Lydia was getting worse or the film genuinely took a supernatural turn. Krista’s ghost sitting in the background when Lydia wakes up at night was a “when you see it you’ll shit bricks” moment. I understand that making the viewer question reality is the intention of these scenes, but that didn’t seem to have a proper resolution. Same with Olga disappearing into the mysterious building; I almost wondered if she was a ghost too. Was she conspiring with Francesca the entire time in order to take Lydia down? Was that supposed to be ambiguous or am I just stupid?

Finally, the ending just lost me (with the exception of the “massage parlor” scene, which was great). Throughout the film I kept wanting for Lydia’s downfall to begin already, but when it did, it felt rushed. I didn’t like or understand the thinking behind the montage of Lydia in Asia. There’s some commentary to be made about how intensely European most of the film is, and the jarring orientalism of the final ten minutes. A film so meticulous about referencing various names and trivia of Western high culture doesn’t bother to even name the entire Asian country where its ending takes place, and I’ve seen viewers argue whether it’s Thailand or the Philippines because of contradictory evidence.

I can see many people praise the closing scene, but I don’t understand the intent behind it. Is Lydia miserable, confined by the material and setting that are unworthy of her talent, with the predetermined tempo dictated to her through the headphones, seething with resentment for the vulgar music as someone conservative and elitist enough to bash even Cage and Þorvaldsdóttir? Or is she relearning to enjoy the essence of her job without the trappings of wealth and high status — “good music (…) bare as a potting shed”, as she said at the beginning of the film — and treating a video game soundtrack and a kid orchestra as seriously as she did Mahler and the most prestigious orchestra in the world? Blanchett says “those readings coexist”, but in my opinion these meanings are mutually exclusive, and neither was communicated clearly.

More about the master class

There was something about the way camera moved and refocused in the master class scene that I took note of, but I didn’t realize that was all filmed in one shot until someone pointed it out. Rewatched, and was amazed. Very clever to present that as raw unedited material that will later be cut and edited in bad faith. (Not my observation, but I can’t remember where I saw it.)

Context for Max’s words, from the Bach page on Wikipedia: “Later the same year, their first child, Catharina Dorothea, was born, and Maria Barbara's elder, unmarried sister joined them. (…) Three sons were also born in Weimar (…). Johann Sebastian and Maria Barbara had three more children, who however did not live to their first birthday, including twins born in 1713. (…) On 7 July 1720, while Bach was away in Carlsbad with Prince Leopold, Bach's wife suddenly died. The following year, he met Anna Magdalena Wilcke, a young, highly gifted soprano 16 years his junior, who performed at the court in Köthen; they married on 3 December 1721. Together they had 13 children, six of whom survived into adulthood”.

A celebrated genius in a relationship with a much younger female musician — sounds familiar? Is it any surprise that Lydia is so determined to separate the art from the artist in this case? Max didn’t even say that they’d never played Bach (they’re a violinist…), that they refuse to study Bach or that Bach should not be admired, simply that they personally prefer to focus on other composers — but a rejection even on that small of a scale was enough to set Lydia off. See which of them is easily offended and insecure in this scene? Not the nervous Twitter generation kid! Whether she is aware of it or not, what Lydia hears is “Lydia Tár’s misogynistic life makes it kind of impossible for me to take her music seriously,” and she wants to prevent this phrase from ever being heard outside of her repressed guilty conscience.

It’s also remarkable how much more personally Lydia takes an accusation of misogyny directed at Bach than a misogynistic slur directed at herself. She relates to a man who can be seen as exploitative towards women more than she identifies as a woman. Being accused of misogyny hits closer to home than being the target of it.

Also note how Max’s initial point was “I don’t like this composer because of what he did”, and Lydia’s Intellectual Comeback was “Aha! But you like another composer despite what he said! I am very smart”. Because making a single racist statement is toootally the same as having your wife give birth every year 13 times in a row…

By the way, the number of people online who are like “wait, what does fathering 20 children have to do with structural oppression of women?” is staggering. Hey, quick question, where do you think children come from??

Following up on the previous point: it’s interesting that the writer built the argument around Bach and a very specific feminist criticism against him that apparently sounds absurd to a significant portion of the audience, instead of picking a widely controversial composer like Wagner.

For context, I’m saying all this as someone who enjoyed playing Bach as a teen on an amateur level, enjoys listening to Bach occasionally now, and has not heard of this detail of his biography until today. As you might guess, I find Max’s position very relatable — because even though I’ve never had or encountered this conversation about Bach, I sure did about Tolstoy! Except this specific Bach debate manages to be more absurd than the usual squabbles on the topic of problematic classics. It’s like a literature professor saying “Why did you choose this contemporary female poet as the subject of your essay/thesis? I think her work sucks. Why didn’t you pick Tolstoy instead? Oh you think he was a huge misogynist, and prefer to focus on the work of many other writers who aren’t? Well you’re a woke SJW snowflake!!!”

I think what many people miss about this scene, and other scenes in fiction that portray verbalized ideological disagreements, is that in many cases, the arguments are not presented in pure platonic form, but are voiced by characters who have their own personal reasons to think and talk like they do. Max’s argument is reductive not because their position is inherently shallow, but because of the situation in which they are forced to make it. Lydia’s argument is not what the viewer is supposed to agree with, or what the writer thinks, or even what the character thinks; she is confident and eloquent not because she is right, but because of who she is and what the power dynamic in the room is.

So much of what Lydia says during the scene is deeply hypocritical. “They will also have been handled rating sheets, the purpose of which is to rate you. Now, what kind of criteria would you hope that they would use to do this?” — yeah, what kind of criteria do we see Lydia use to select her performers? “You gotta sublimate yourself, your ego and, yes, your identity” — we know the enormity of her ego, and how carefully constructed her identity is. The scene is brilliant, but it also loses most of its meaning without the context of the entire film. I’ve seen a few posts with isolated screenshots of Lydia’s punchy quotes from this scene, and it feels like witnessing the birth of a new cinephile red flag.

There’s also a very different, Doylist aspect to this debate. Lydia starts praising Bach as a positive example after bashing not a musical strawman, not a fragment written for this movie to represent “bad music” — but a real work of another real composer, Anna Þorvaldsdóttir, a 2013 piece that was presumably used with the composer’s blessing. The composer chosen for the film’s score, Hildur Guðnadóttir, is also a young woman from Iceland, and the styles of these two composers are closer to each other than to the classics Lydia promotes; this alone should be evidence enough that the director isn’t trying to disparage Þorvaldsdóttir’s work. An interview with Guðnadóttir provides a comfortingly decisive Word of God: “It has to be absolutely clear that none of us—myself, Todd, Cate—agree with Lydia’s opinion!” In her interpretation, the scene “represents Lydia trying to fight the side of her that she wants to be more connected to”.

Lydia’s own composition work is much more modern than her conservative rhetoric would make you expect. The same interview explains that the dissonance was intentional: “One of the main points that Todd and I discussed is that there’s a real disconnect between the music she is writing and what she conducts. We see in the beginning that she had previously explored music from other cultures. We felt [earlier in her life, before the film takes place] she was much more curious and adventurous than the roles she ends up taking, and then she starts manipulating and fooling herself, and other people. She creates this fake persona to become this magnificent conductor, and she’s very strong and powerful, but we felt like that was not who she really was, in her heart of hearts. One of the main problems for her is this disconnect, and that’s where she starts being more aggressive and disconnected from basic humanity.” The final line of the interview, where Guðnadóttir rejects the hierarchy of music that puts video game soundtracks on the bottom, is also relevant to the ending’s interpretation.

Short notes, mostly about specific scenes

The first time I heard of this movie’s existence, I saw a picture of Cate Blanchett and thought “women must go wild for her in this role”. It was only much later that I learned that the character actually was a lesbian. Is Blanchett starting to get typecast now? I’m all for it…

Took me like a week to find a moment when I had enough free hours in a row to dedicate to this and also felt relatively confident to bet on staying sharp and awake enough during them to appreciate it. (For context, after viewing I couldn’t stop thinking about the film for approximately 24 hours straight, not counting sleep.) I’m glad I did, watching this when sleepy and unable to fully pay attention would be a nightmare. It might have been an easier experience if it were split into multiple episodes, but the structure and everything else are entirely cinematic and not at all TV-like.

I’m glad other viewers are addressing the fan and her handbag, I thought I was missing something because this one night stand was never brought up again. Also relieved to see other people confirm that I understood Lydia’s line about Sebastian living on the same floor as another man correctly; that line also seemed to hang in the air.

Appreciate the ability to pause and read Lydia’s Wikipedia article. Nitpick: the film names are not italicized and none of the links have been visited :p

From the script: “Tár’s eyes, satisfied with her mimicry, suddenly fill with concern. She turns and looks back into the suite, as if sensing someone or something. But there’s nothing there.” I completely misunderstood this scene then, I thought it was about the bouquet having been quietly delivered (presumably from Krista) and Lydia being startled by its sudden appearance. But turns out it’s the first of the eerie unreality scenes.

Another confirmation from the script: “There is an underlying tension between [Lydia and Francesca]. The tension of people who have at times slept together, but no longer do.”

Having watched Phantom Thread only three weeks ago, I took note of the discourse about the famous artist and his wife Alma. Was Mahler the reference all along? I’d only seen Hitchcock mentioned…

I totally missed that Lydia stole Sharon’s medication. Took me a while to find the line that confirmed it.

“I’m Petra’s father”… How dare she be this hot while threatening a small child lmao

On a more serious note, as someone pointed out, “If you tell any grown-up what I just said, they won’t believe you” is likely something Lydia also said to Krista (and possibly others). Ouch.

At one point I realized that Blanchett was playing the piano by herself, and went to google if she learned it for the film. In the very next scene, I went to google the same thing about her the first violin’s actress, but for the opposite reason. I know little about the piano so Blanchett’s work seemed impressively natural to me, but wasn’t the violinist gripping the bow a bit too tensely for a pro?

I know they had to make the contrast between the two cellists during the audition obvious, but how does the first one even have a job at such a prestigious orchestra? That was terrible lmao

How ironic that after everything Lydia did to deserve and set up her own downfall, it happened in no small part due to a total fabrication that misrepresented her to the world.

Lydia’s intense expression and disheveled hair in the scene where he attacks the replacement conductor reminded me of Beethoven’s famous portrait. I wonder if that was the intent, especially considering her mention of “old Ludwig” in the master class scene.

How many mirror reflection shots are in this movie? Grateful for the opportunity to see Blanchett’s acting from two angles at once.

I’ve seen one or two people compare the film to Tell-Tale Heart. This film really does have gothic horror elements! The word “haunted” even appears on screen during the opening shot.

The neighbor subplot is such an artistic combination of everything Lydia fears and wants to avoid. She’s glamorous, she’s tidy, she’s germophobic, she’s hyper-intellectual, she’s afraid of being left behind, she’s afraid of death, she’s drawn to young and vibrant people. And the life that is the opposite of what she wants has been next door all along, becoming more and more visible to her, like an omen of the impending destruction of her lifestyle.

There’s a similar clash between Lydia’s intellectual, refined façade and the crude exploitation mirroring the side she refuses to acknowledge in herself in the “massage parlor” scene, and this one is not a continuous haunting but a singular shock strong enough to get through her wall of denial. I have to give credit to the discussion post on Reddit (there are several subthreads, this one is probably the cleanest) for breaking it down: there’s so much symbolism packed into a single shot there I didn’t pick up on all of it by myself from one viewing. To sum up: Lydia is shot with her back to the camera from the same angle as she was at work, standing with a hand raised like a conductor over a group of women seated like an orchestra, and the woman who looks up at Lydia is sitting in Olga’s place and bearing the same number as the symphony that Lydia was conducting throughout the film. It’s obvious in retrospect if you look at the shots side by side, but I found the scene striking even before noticing the woman’s position or number.

The list of music in the closing titles includes Partita for 8 Voices, one of the few pieces of contemporary music that I actually happen to have listened to, but I don’t remember it in the film. Seems like it was only used for promotion?

About backstory and identity

- Todd Field revealed in an interview that Lydia never even met Bernstein. That’s wild. How did she successfully fake being his student throughout her entire career?! It also changes her character in a huge way: either she is aware the entire time that her career is based on a lie, or she’s far more disconnected from reality than it seemed.

- In retrospect, it’s also strange that a celebrity accused of sexual misconduct would be invited to lead a youth orchestra. This characterizes her Asian employers as either ignorant or negligent — and I don’t know which option is worse, that it was one of the many ways in which the film decides to present the country as inferior, or that the writer wasn’t thinking about the motivations behind this plot point at all.

- There’s a blink-and-you-miss-it detail on the Wikipedia page we see on screen that is very relevant to the conception of Lydia’s stage name. We know she renamed herself from Linda Tarr to Lydia Tár; I’ve seen many people point out that the last name isn’t real and she added the accent mark to make herself seem fancier and European. But the Wikipedia page shows the name and background of her father: “Zoltán Tarr, an Hungarian immigrant to the US”. It’s a detail that the perfectionist Lydia leaves in on purpose. So it seems that the accent mark is a tribute to her late father and their family’s European roots. Lydia constructs a new European identity, just like she creates a new benchmark for what a person of her demographics can achieve. At the same time, that identity bears the mark of her European heritage, which she reclaims by basically re-immigrating into Europe; she claims it as her birthright, which seems relevant to her conservative, assimilationist worldview.

It also seems important that her original last name, Tarr, is on Wikipedia, but the original first name, Linda, isn’t. The inconsistency breaks immersion a bit, like the Bernstein lie, but also adds something to Lydia’s characterization. She doesn’t mind the name of her late Hungarian father being known to the public; in fact, it’s important to her image. Zoltán Tarr was European, presumably forced to flee his country — a dramatic, romantic backstory; Linda was an ordinary American girl, which is something she’d rather forget.

- Lydia is committed to proving that she belongs in the boys’ club and that being a woman shouldn’t stop one from becoming an abusive male genius. It’s easy to imagine a version of this story where young Linda has changed name not to Lydia but to Leo and rejected the identity of a woman altogether.

- I can see the criticism about the “predatory lesbian” stereotype. That could have been addressed on screen, actually, since the film already deals with identity politics. (Though that wouldn’t fix the issue of basing the biography of the main character on a real person and then making her an abuser — that seems irreparably insulting no matter what!)

- So thrilled to live in a time where the epic tales of a hubristic, charismatic genius’s downfall and mental unraveling can be about very well-dressed and attractive women. Have you ever wished for something like Lawrence of Arabia to be about a lesbian musician? I guess many actual lesbian musicians haven’t, considering the criticism that I feel no right to dismiss; but I have no personal stakes here, and I guess I solve this film’s dilemma in favor of the art — my own viewing pleasure over someone else’s representation.

Links

The script, via Variety

Hildur Guðnadóttir on Soundtracking Tàr and Sexism in Classical Music

How Composer Hildur Guðnadóttir’s TÁR Soundtrack Unlocks the Film’s Eerie Mysteries

That Last Scene in ‘Tár’ Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Means — an article by Somtow Sucharitkul, the conductor of the Thai youth orchestra seen in the film

The Lesbian Allure And Colonial Unconscious Of Todd Field’s Tár — an essay in a feminist journal

What “Tár” Knows About the Artist as Abuser — a “cultural comment” in The New Yorker

Un-Tár-nished — a review by conductor and composer Leonard Slatkin

How to Disappear Completely: A Lesbian Musician Watches Tár — a review

[yellogre]

The animation in a meme

(EDIT: please don’t be mad, I KNOW! i know is not actually like this for any animated series, i wasn’t even talking about modern animated series, i was talking about general approach with the animation, so that includes shows, movies, commericals, short videos, and everything else. Anyway this is just a gag, a meme, it doesn’t want to be the absolute truth, and it’s not, just satire. So please stop argumenting about things i already know they’re truth. Animation could be good and bad both in the 30′s and in the modern days. that should be pretty obvious for anyone.)

[eliza1911o1]

*trigger warning*

Death is such an interesting element of ofmd because it’s obvious, it’s even satirically downplayed, but only when it doesn’t have anything to personally do with the characters

Since it’s about pirates, death as a whole is treated pretty lightly. The characters talk about wanting to rack up kills (looking at you Black Pete though I know you’re a softie) and people are casually sliced up. It’s treated as merely a part of the trade, which Ed even alludes to when he mentions how most of the pirates he knows are killed early in ep 4

But episodes 1-3 are pretty much one big moral conundrum for Stede after he realizes he was involved with a death. The way he first uses it for clout, then promptly owns up to it before breaking down and finally realizing it wasn’t his fault is incredibly heavy. Even when Stede witnesses many deaths after this (that entire burning boat, various people thrown about by the crew) those barely make an impact on him, but Jack talking about Ed’s exploits takes him aback and Chauncey and his brother’s deaths still appear to haunt him. This is alluded to in his very serious rebuttal in ep 10, when Stede pretty much calls the other men in the tavern out for thinking of killing as something easy or light

And then there’s Ed, who is so incredibly guilty about killing his father and seems to have such a hard time dwelling on the idea of killing he doesn’t talk about it and “outsources the big job”. He’s clearly put a moral boundary on the act of killing vs. violence, almost as if it’s a lifeline to a sort of goodness still left him, likes he’s not quite as bad as the others

And to wrap it all up there’s Oluwande saying how a little piece of you dies after you kill someone (and also being in love with someone who clearly doesn’t give two shits about that which is ridiculously ironic but also very poignant because no one is too far gone for love). This could be all set up for /that/ scene in ep 6 and characterization of Stede and Ed OR this could be alluding to something I don’t even want to think about in s2

Like Stede killing someone for Ed? Going past Ed’s moral boundaries (which are already iffy) and doing something even he sees as too far, and for him, Stede compromising that goodness for him? I dunno. Just think that’s mentally obliterating

+just remembered Stede literally says he’s a killer but he kills with kindness and wtf does that mean Stede like what are you going to do when we just saw how good you are at passive aggression

[daydreamrry]

Why would Olivia & Harry enter into a PR relationship? What would be the benefit?

Olivia was already established as an accomplished actor/producer & had already begun making a name for herself as a director to watch. She was in a longterm relationship with another well-known & respected actor/writer/producer who was garnering a lot of attention & acclaim for his new show. Together, the two of them would have generated a ton of press for their various projects & it would have been 100% positive. Example: Every article about Jason would include a mention of his longtime partner, Olivia, and her upcoming movie(s) and vice versa. Plus, there would be no negative or distracting talk about cheating or fake relationships.

Harry was already established as an international pop star with a massive fan base & an actor to watch. He consistently had articles written about him (for anything & everything) which generated press for both his movies. He didn't need to date anyone to get attention and/or could have dated anyone for attention.

DWD's cast includes Florence Pugh, Harry Styles, Chris Pine, Gemma Chan, Olivia Wilde and Nick Kroll. Their collective fan bases cover every corner of the movie's targeted demographic. Individually, especially with Florence & Harry, they would have millions of people talking about & anticipating the movie. Plus, there would be no negative or distracting talk about cheating or fake relationships.

So, again I ask... Why would Olivia & Harry enter into a PR relationship? What would be the benefit?

when i first read the question, i thought that this was satire but then i read the entire ask and man... you are sooooo close to pointing out the obvious. this is going to be a loooong explanation but you asked for it!

the way that you described olivia is completely false. directing one movie, a movie that didn’t even do well in the box office, isn’t establishing yourself to be a successful director. having one main role in the 20+ years of being in the industry doesn’t make you an established actress. and honestly, i don’t understand why people use the “Harry and Olivia are already both famous and successful, they don’t need PR to help themselves” excuse when other celebrities do the same exact thing. why is it any different when it comes to harry and olivia? channing and zoe are in a PR relationship, ben and ana were in a PR relationship, pete and kim are in a PR relationship. why is it that when it comes to harry and olivia, they could never be in a PR relationship? how come when it comes to harry and olivia, they don’t need publicity or promo? answer that, please. it doesn’t matter how successful and popular a celebrity is; publicity is publicity, promo is promo, every celebrity needs publicity and promo.

let’s break down each of their careers and how this PR relationship benefits them:

olivia - directed ONE movie, wasn’t a successful film ($25 million in box office numbers). DWD is her second film. yes, she has a good cast BUT that doesn’t exclude the idea that a PR relationship is still needed to help the movie. just because a director has a good cast for their movie doesn’t mean that the chance of it flopping is zero. Don’t Look Up has a great cast and didn’t do too well with reviews. Dune has a good cast and didn’t do too well either, so the cast has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not a movie can be successful. when you are an upcoming director, a director who didn’t do too well with your first film, you’re going to do whatever you can to help your movies gain a lot of attention. there are directors who actually focus on their work to try and become successful in the industry (Ex: chloe), but olivia is not one of them. she has never worked hard for anything in her life and she never will. that’s how she is. she had her entire career handed to her. her parents are already rich and have their own connections, she stole the original work for booksmart, she got her directing career because of jason’s connections so yeah, she hasn’t worked for anything in her life at all. plus, this isn’t the first time that she is stunting. she has been in PR relationships with her male costars in the past, this isn’t the first time that she’s doing this. she’s not a successful actress either which is why she is shifting her career to directing. what better way to gain publicity towards your upcoming directing career than be in a fake relationship with one of the most well known, likable celebrities in the world? harry is more famous and well known than jason. yeah, jason is thriving now, but the stunt was planned and debuted prior to his career success, and my guess is that she had absolutely zero idea that jason would be so successful or else you and i know damn well that she would’ve stayed with him. it backfired for her. stunting is the most easiest and common way for celebrities to gain publicity, fame, money, attention, and promo. that’s it. so yes, the stunt is promoting the movie but it’s also promoting her CAREER as an upcoming director. this is the most relevant that she has been, more people know about her now than before so yeah, she will have a lot of attention on her as an individual from now on. people know who she is, people know that she’s dating harry, people will see her as “Harry Styles’ Ex.” his name alone makes her relevant so when they “break up” and she continues with her directing career with the “Harry Styles’ Ex” title, people will know who she is and pay her more attention.

harry - i feel like some people forget that this man has been in the industry for YEARS. he knows how to stunt, he knows what to do in order to gain publicity and attention. this isn’t the first time that he has been in this situation. he also has a great team who knows how to keep his name and image clean. remember when olivia’s timeline was released, and harry was being accused of the reason for J&O’s break up? what did his team do? immediately shut those rumors down. he’s fine, he knows that his team can shut down any rumors or speculations that make him look bad. and honestly, it makes him look bad either way, whether you think it’s real or not. if you think it’s real, there must’ve been cheating involved. if you think it’s fake, she ditched her family for some fame and attention. obviously, the GP isn’t paying attention to this as much as we are, and they don’t care enough to. yes, harry is already famous, rich, popular, however you want to describe him BUT, for the 1000000000th time, EVEN THE MOST POPULAR AND RICHEST CELEBRITIES DO PR! he’s still trying to rise as an actor. being with olivia, who has been in the industry for years and has more hollywood connections than he does, makes it easier for him to achieve more for his acting career, especially with the way that DWD is being talked about now. it’s considered to be an “anticipated movie for 2022,” so it is being hyped up which means that all of this hype is making people excited to see it. the more people who watch it doesn’t only give olivia money and publicity, it also gives it to harry too (and we know that he must be getting a portion of the money) and makes them see his acting abilities. also.... pleasing and merch promo, hello? do you not see the amount of times that she has called the paparazzi while wearing his tour merch or the pleasing crewneck? there were articles to go along with her paparazzi pictures that literally included the pricing to his merch. it’s all promo, love. he’s getting this easy publicity to his career, his brand, and his merch. not only that, but a possible narrative for HS3. do you see how successful fine line is? whether you think that hamille was real or not, camille is the “narrative” for that album. his team probably wants that same narrative for HS3. we know that the album will not be about her, but the media and fans will make it seem like it is. this “relationship” gives his team, the media, and his fans a possible narrative for HS3 which will be talked about so much. the more an album is talked about, the more publicity it and that artist will receive.

jason - this may be an unpopular opinion, but he is benefiting from this as well. yeah, he was already considered a well known, successful writer, producer, actor, and is very liked. same situation with harry, he still needs publicity. he has received SO MUCH attention, good attention, from the GP ever since the stunt began. he is the “good guy” to the GP. people love ted lasso, people love jason now more than ever. this is helping him a lot more than we think. i’m not sure if he’s apart of it, i’m not sure if he made an agreement with olivia, i’m not sure if she just didn’t know that the GP would react this way towards him or what but all i do know is that he is very much benefiting from this. i mean, do you see the articles being released from her side? every single article that is released from her side still mentions jason, and this entire stunt has been like a war between olivia and jason’s teams. jason is just winning it.

take a look back at 2021. look at how many career opportunities olivia has received because of harry. vogue, for example. she hasn’t done anything in 2021, not a single thing, and got the cover of vogue. and you’re going to ask how this is benefiting them? the entirely of 2021 has been the absolute climax for the stunt, she has received so much attention, she has received so many opportunities, the movie has been talked about nonstop. yes, this is benefiting her a lot more than harry but he is still gaining something too, he’s not doing this for free.

and i hope you know that this isn’t just for harry and olivia. other people, brands, and companies are benefiting from this as well. molly, olivia’s best friend, has a clothing brand called “La Ligne.” throughout the stunt, harry and olivia have been wearing clothes from this brand (yes, i know that olivia has been wearing clothes from this brand prior to the stunt). the love on tour jacket olivia has also came from la ligne or another company that molly is apart of. other brands/companies such as eliou, true botanicals, gucci, conscious commerce, and more are all benefiting from this. how? because harry and olivia are wearing their clothes, wearing their accessories, wearing their jewelry and getting papped in them. she has been apart of true botanicals for awhile and she literally had an entire vogue shoot + article that was a straight up ad for this company (this was released in september). so yeah, there are a lot of benefits that outweigh the negative factors to the stunt.

i know that the reason why people refuse to believe that harry would ever do PR is because it makes him look “cheap” but really, there is NOTHING wrong with a celebrity doing PR. it’s common. it’s an easy way to gain publicity and money. and i also know that the reason why the “cheating” assumption is even going around is because of the messy timeline and start to the stunt. there was no cheating, there was no affair, there was no “Olivia lied to Harry and told him she’s single” situation. it’s strictly a business deal that had a messy start because their teams lack communication, and the multiple, different narratives prove that. and if we’re looking at this from the GP perspective, they’re not even paying attention to how the stunt began, what happened, etc. they don’t care. they only see what the media shows them: the staged paparazzi pictures and unnecessary articles. they don’t care enough to take a deep dive into how the stunt began, that is why harry and olivia’s teams aren’t worried about the “negative” talks and cheating conversations. this is a promotional stunt. this is a publicity stunt. even if you consider harry and olivia to be successful and rich as it is, that’s not a good enough reason to exclude the fact that PR relationships are very common in hollywood and have been for years. so please, how is this not benefiting them?

i even have two links in my pinned post that direct you to two podcast episodes explaining PR relationships in hollywood so if you genuinely want to learn more about it, please check those out.

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 16

Chapter 1     Chapter 15

Marinette blinked as the room around her slowly came into focus.  She tried to bring her hand up to rub her head to help alleviate her pulsing headache but her hands weren’t responding.  It felt like there was a weight on them.  Or like they were being held down, bound.  Marinette’s eyes flew open and her heart started pounding as she searched the room for the akuma.  She looked at her hands and silently cursed to herself.  Not only were her arms bound to the arms of a wooden chair, she saw her own naked hands instead of her distinct red suit.  

She groaned and looked around for any clues to where she was being held and what the akuma might be.  If she could figure out their powers, she might be able to figure out how to get out of this.  She stopped when she saw a man in a green suit making his way toward her.  She blinked a few more times taking in his suit and hat.  “Is that… are those question marks?  Are you a question akuma?” she muttered out in French.

The man tilted his head at her.  “You’ll find English is necessary if you want to get out of this one alive, young Wayne.”

Marinette stared at the man a few more seconds, letting his words settle in her head as things started to click in her mind.  She wasn’t in Paris.  This wasn’t an akuma, because there weren’t akumas anymore. She and Adrien had defeated his father. She was in Gotham.  She had been on her way home after a disastrous dinner at the Wayne’s. This was a Gotham villain, not a Parisian one.  This was the Riddler.

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief before her face scrunched in frustration.  “Are you kidding me?  Are you kidding me right now?  You had to do this right now?”

“Oh, I never kid about riddles.  Now, is not the time to panic, Little Lady,” he taunted.

“Oh, you have no fucking clue.  Now is most definitely NOT the time, but you made it the time,” she hissed at him.  “Do you have ANY idea how bad my week is going?  My night?  Do you? Do you have any idea of the trauma and nightmares I’m going to have to deal with already?  And that was before you forced me to witness your suit in person. And can you comprehend the mental and emotional cataclysm I’m already going to have to endure?  And you’re pulling this shit?  Now?”

“I’m just going to ask a few questions and then it’ll all be over and then you can have your little mental breakdown,” he jeered condescendingly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to lunge at him, but her chest was tied to the chair, holding her back, and she’d never hated rope more than she did in that moment.  She growled and glared at him.  “Oh thank you for the permission.  And for the record, it won’t be little.  It’s going to be a monufuckingmental breakdown.  Thank you very much.  Granted it isn’t everything on Earth is destroyed but me and one other person, who caused it in the first place, level of bad.  But I think I’m justified in needing to take a fucking second to think and process. A second I’m not going to fucking get now am I?  Because of you.”  She turned her head to the side in frustration but her eyes got caught on a small red light.  Her mouth dropped open.  “Are you recording this?” she yelled at him.  That complicated things considerably.  Now she needed to watch her words.  Now she needed to make sure she didn’t expose anything.  Well that just sucked even more.

“Well, it wouldn’t be much of a game show without an audience, now would it,” he purred.

She scowled at him.  “By all means, record this to watch later.  Most people aren’t looking to get bitch slapped as hard as you’re going to get so publicly, but to each their own, I guess.  But, consent is a thing and next time, keep me out of it.”

She strained against the ropes holding her hands to the chair arms.  She glowered at him when they proved too tight for her to move her wrists.  “Also, it’s already not much of a game show.  If you have to knock out people and tie them down just to get them to play, either your show sucks or your host does.  Or in this case, both.”

“Now, now,” he snarled, his smile considerably more strained than it had been before.  “We’re just testing the newest Wayne to see how you’re going to fit in.”

“I could have told you that without all this,” she glowered.  “But you wanted to be a big man and ask a question.  So ask your little question.  Be a big man putting a bound, petite, non-native English speaking woman, in her place.  Although if that’s what it takes to make you feel like a man, that’s one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever heard.”

Riddler seethed at her, attempting to keep his face neutral, but failing spectacularly.  One of the Waynes should be afraid of him.  He had been hoping the new one would finally give him a Wayne that cowered in fear.  Instead, he got yet another feral child.  He gripped his question mark staff tightly, fighting the urge to hit her with it.  It was too early to start.  She’d get her punishment soon enough.  He looked up with a grin.  Very soon.

He looked back at her with a sadistic smirk. “Fine.  I’d hate to keep a lady waiting.  Perhaps first I should start with the stakes.”  He moved closer to smile in her face.  “Think well on your answer young Wayne, because for every question you get wrong,” he pointed up with his staff, “a knife falls.”

Marinette let out a deep, annoyed sigh and looked up to see a series of knives tied to the ceiling right above her seat.  She sighed and gave him a flat look. “Really?  That’s the best you could do?  You realize what I’ve been faced with before, right? Or did you not do your research?”  She narrowed her eyes at him.  “You look like a man who never does his research.”

Riddler sidled up to her in a step, his face a few centimeters from her own.  “We can start by testing out the knives if you’d prefer.”

Marinette leaned her head back.  Even if she couldn’t talk him out of making one drop, it wasn’t going to get her.  They would miraculously get diverted just enough to miss her.  Luck could be a bitch when it was against you and he’d left too much up to chance.  “Already changing the rules of the game?  What were you saying about a good game show?  Guess you really don’t care.”

“Fine!” Riddler screamed.  He walked away a few steps and turned back to her with a malicious glint in his eyes.  “Let’s start slow, shall we?  Starting in 1881, this hall brightened Paris’ nights while darkening its satire.  What is the name of this baby of Salis?”

Marinette stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Her face went slack.

Riddler leered down at her, his face breaking into a creepy grin at her apparent inability to answer his question.  “Oh, how sad.”  He gave her a mock pout.  “Looks like the new Wayne isn’t so smart after all.  What do they see in you anyway?  Can’t even answer a simple, easy question.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Marinette finally burst out.

Riddler frowned at her.  Instead of the fear he expected, her voice was incredulous and angry. “That’s the question, if you can’t answer…”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  That’s not a… You’re the Riddler.  That’s not a riddle!  That’s a… are you okay?  Like, seriously.  Are you okay?  Because I think… You know what?”  She took a deep steadying breath.  She opened her eyes to give him a serious look, completely devoid of fear, leaning more towards concerned.  

“I think you need a break.  I think you need to take a bit of time to reassess, refocus, and recenter yourself.  Then you can come back and be the Riddler I know you can be.  Because this,” she tried to motion toward him, “this is not it. That is... that isn't a riddle!  That's trivia!  You inaccurately named, evil Alex Trebek!  This would be a perfect opportunity to say I’m in Jeopardy, clueless asshole. So disappointed right now.”  She shook her head in disappointment, refusing to even look at him.

Riddler seethed at her, his face turning red with anger.  “Look either answer the question or…”

“THAT’S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!” she screamed at him. “It’s a question, not a riddle.  And you missed a golden opportunity to ask a follow up question and saying it’s Double Jeopardy.  You missed the obvious pun!  This is why I say you need to take a break.  This isn’t you.  You’re better than this, I know you are.  I’m just… I’m worried about your mental health.”  She gave him a concerned look.

“If you can’t answer…” he snapped at her.  He gripped and regripped his question staff menacingly, leaning toward her with a snarl.

Marinette rolled her eyes at the attempt at intimidation. “Of course I can answer.  I’m from Paris and you’re asking about Le Chat Noir? Of course I know the answer.  Let me guess, your next question is about a ladybug,” she chirped, widening her eyes with false excitement.

Her face dropped the false sweetness and turned back into an aggravated frown.  “That’s not the fucking point.  My point is you interrupted my fucking abomination of a night for this bullshit and you’re not even on top of your game.  So I not only get shoved into the spotlight, against my will, by people violating my and my parents’ privacy, forcing Mon… my father to ramp up plans for my introduction.  Making sure my family and I knew we weren’t safe and exposing me to this bullshit along with the other attempts on me since it happened.”

Her frown turned into a disgusted sneer.  “And I was actually afraid for a moment because I thought you were an akuma, but you’re really just an underprepared asshole. It’s insulting frankly.”

Riddler swung his question mark staff at her catching her across her cheek.  He grinned at the blood trickling down her cheek.  Marinette glared up at him but refused to let a grunt of pain pass her lips. “Next question, hopefully this one is more to your liking.”  His eyes took on a malevolent glint.

Marinette’s eyes flicked behind him.  He smirked at her inability to make eye contact any longer. “No,” she interrupted, a smirk forming on her own lips.  “It’s my turn.  I have one for you.  It’s actually in the form of a riddle, if you think you can handle that.”  The Riddler growled at her and moved closer to tower over her threateningly.  “What lights up the day with black against yellow yet lights up the night with yellow against black.  It brings hope to those who see it yet marks your demise.  What is it?”

Riddler narrowed his eyes at her and backed away to get some space while he thought.  He looked down for a second, searching the ground as though it might hold the answer for him.  He suddenly looked up, his eyes bright with realization.  “A signal!” he exclaimed, jumping with excitement.  His face suddenly fell realizing the words that passed his lips.  

He spun around just in time for Signal to punch him in the jaw.  Riddler stumbled back falling backward on his ass.  Signal stalked toward him, eskrima sticks out and ready.  He kept his eyes on Riddler but raised his voice so Marinette could hear him.  “You alright, Ma’am?”

“I’m fine.  Just pissed,” she grunted.  She focused on her bindings, trying to figure out a way to loosen them enough to get out.

Signal smirked and gave a short nod.  “Preying on young women again?  Not a good look for you.”

“Penguin and Scarecrow both tried and couldn’t get to her.  I did,” he said defiantly, his chest puffing out even as he was slumped on the floor. “Penguin got to the museum too early. Scarecrow got to the hotel too late. But me?  I plan better.”

“And got a verbal bitch slap the likes of which Gotham has never seen for your trouble.”  Signal shook his head in mock sympathy and regripped his sticks. “Publicly.”

Riddler sneered at Signal.  “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Marinette called from her seat.  She pointed at him threateningly with her now miraculously freed right hand.  “Next time I’ll do it physically too.”

Signal grinned proudly and snorted at her comment. Riddler growled before looking back up at Signal with an angry scowl.  “Looks like this show has come to an end.  But we’ll be back after a short break.”  He hit his staff hard on the ground and a gas started emitting from it, obscuring Signal’s view.  Signal backed away and rushed over to Marinette, uncertain if the gas was dangerous.

He pulled out a knife and quickly sliced through the remaining ropes and helped her get free.  “Can you walk?”

Marinette started sprinting toward the exit.  “I can do better than that,” she called over her shoulder.  “You just going to stand there and let the gas get you?”  Signal smirked and followed her out.

She grunted as her shoulder rammed into the doorframe when she miscalculated the distance.  She silently cursed how long it was taking her brain to recover from having been knocked out.  Now out of the room she stopped running and rubbed her head as if willing it to kick back into gear.

“You sure you’re okay?” Signal asked catching up to her.

Marinette couldn’t see his eyes under his mask but the bottom half of his face seemed to be contorted in concern.  She grumbled noncommittally in response and rubbed her shoulder.  She looked around them quickly.  “You sure this is a safe way out?  He has to have had help.  I don’t see him doing his own dirty work.”

Signal nodded.  “He did have help.  But, so do I.”  He nodded behind him.

Marinette craned her neck around him to look behind him. She cringed as she saw Red Hood kneeing someone in the face.  The goon fell limply to the ground, unconscious before he hit.  Red Hood looked up and ran over to them as soon as he spotted her.  “Pi… uh… pretty impressive mouth,” he stuttered.  He looked over her closely as he could without touching her.  His eyes zeroed in on her cheek.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds missing the incredulous look Signal tried to give him.  “Um… thanks… I think.”  She blinked a few more times before frowning.  “Yeah, can we not talk about my mouth, please?”

Red Hood choked on nothing and shook his head, leaning away, as if trying to get away from the idea.  “I meant your att…” he shook his head again and looked back at her. “Not a problem.  Let’s never talk about it again.  Are you okay?  Did he hurt you anywhere else?”  His eyes scanned her again and stopped at her wrists.

Marinette rubbed her wrists self-consciously. “No…” she started.  “I mean!  No he didn’t hurt me anywhere else.  But I am okay,” she rushed out when she saw him tense up at her words.

“Where is he?” Red Hood growled, still staring at her wrists.

“Got away,” Signal answered.

Red hood rounded on him, his entire body tensed for a fight.  “What do you mean he got away?”

Marinette stepped between them and pushed Red Hood back gently.  “He released some kind of gas.  He got me out of there before we found out what it did.  Seems like a good move considering how he got me in the first place.”

Red Hood looked down at her for a second before looking up to Signal with a nod.  He remembered seeing the gas dissipating when they finally caught up to where she was taken.  It had looked like there was enough to knock out an entire city block.  Definitely overkill, but spoke to Riddler’s desperation to be the first to kidnap her.  “Idea which direction he went?”

Signal sighed a heavy sigh.  “I didn’t see which way he went but it had to be out the west side of the room, but that’s all I got.”

Red Hood nodded and touched his com.  “You got that?”  He paused for a moment listening to whatever was being said over his com.  “Yes, she’s fine.  A few rope burns and a cut on her cheek, but seems okay other than that.”

Signal nodded and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do you have family we can call?”

Marinette shook her head absentmindedly, the strain of the night starting to hit.  “No, I can call my brother.  He’s probably terrified about me.”

Red Hood seemed to freeze.  “Just… the one brother?  You… aren’t you one of the Waynes?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and her face paled.  She plastered a smile on her face. “Right.  Yes.  Of course. I… I meant my one brother was with me at the time.  Yes. Yeah.  The Waynes are my family.  I’m a… I’m… Yeah, I’m a… Wayne,” she barely managed to get the word out of her mouth.  It felt wrong and foreign on her tongue.  She smiled wider at them.  “But you don’t… you don’t have to bother them.  They’re all busy.”

“Yeah, looking for you,” Red Hood answered back sharply.  “They’re the ones that called us.  They’re terrified right now.”

“I think they’d want to know,” Signal urged gently, his voice heartfelt and slightly pained.

She let out a bitter scoff before she could stop herself.  She squeezed her eyes shut and mentally berated her still drugged mind for letting that slip out.  “I meant,” she started loudly, “I’ll inform someone.  They’d want to… hear it from me,” she finished quietly.

Red Hood took a breath and moved closer to her, gently resting his hands on her shoulders.  “I promise you, they’re worried about you and they would want to know. They’d want to make sure you’re okay. They’d want to make sure you feel safe. They would want to protect you. In fact, I’d expect to see a lot more of them over the next few days.”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer but got interrupted by the police breaking into the room.  Marinette pursed her lips and seemed to let a calm come over her.  Red Hood looked harder at her change as the police led her off to take her statement.  No, it wasn’t calm.  It was a numbness, an absence of any feelings.  His face contorted into a scowl.  Exactly what Adrien had described.  “You get that,” Red Hood snapped into his com.  He waited a few seconds before shaking his head.  

“That’s a fool’s bet,” Signal scoffed.  “Of course she’s not going to.  She might send a text.  And even then I bet it won’t be much.”

Red Hood listened for a few more seconds before he shook his head again.  “I’m not taking that bet either.”  He watched as Adrien just stopped himself from tackling Marinette in his excitement to see her again.  After what looked like a worried conversation, he saw Adrien pull her into a tight hug and Marinette melt into it.  “We need to fix this and quick before B does anything else to completely destroy any chance we have,” Red Hood snarled.  He turned and started grappling away.  “I’m going rogue hunting.”

Chapter 17

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[iv-aur-y]

heyy againnn, could i request wiping off the genshin character's kisses? geo, and anEMO supremacy for this one. thanks in advance, -.- yurii

prompt ;; you wipe off their kisses

characters ;; albedo, aether, gorou and kazuha

foreword ;; i'm guessing this is from the trend? jokingly wiping them of course, because if you really did that you are a [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] >:(

as of currently, the 2.3 trailer has given me a headache in regards of albedo’s situation and how he was portrayed sooo, part 2 will be published soon with the remaining characters; venti, xiao and zhongli. ty for understanding <3 also, this was NOT proofread hehe

'𝒶𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇;-

He mentally cringed, squinting his eyes to scrutinize your gaze. It felt so suffocating for the poor traveler that he could feel his knees go weak. You were one of the first people, after Paimon, he had opened up to. From his experiences and memories of his past with his sister, to the horrid day when she was taken from him.

You knew it all, by heart, too. The blonde was open to you about his emotions, and although he opted to listen more than speak, he had always been the one venting. He trusted you, and wished that you’d stay by his side until the day his journey came to an end.

Aether saw the stars in your eyes, and in the world of Teyvat, the stars were the guidance to those who felt lost. Stumbling upon a deep satire night as glimmering distances shone upon the sky was what he saw in your oceanic hues. But, he saw your bright eyes dull as soon as he placed a kiss on your cheek.

It was first, really. Normally, you would’ve pouted pointing to the other cheek, eyes begging; You missed a spot!

Now, the two of you were sitting down, leaning against an old oak tree, a routinely moment of bliss you shared at least weekly. You could hear the crickets sing their songs, yet it was one lost humming voice that left a bad taste in your mouth.

“Something wrong, Aether?” to be called his named, Aether could only resist the urge to immediately let go, and hold you close. He hesitated, what if you were just urging him to indulge in his troublesome affairs just so you could leave him.

His gloved hand was enveloped in warmth, and he gazed at it. Your hand laced in between his, one on his cheek and you head lulling to the side as you inched closer. “Did something happen.”

And he didn’t have the nerve you tell you, so he shook his head no, forcing a smile, “Everything’s fine, just got a little lost in thought...”

'𝒶𝓁𝒷𝑒𝒹𝑜;-

As for the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius, one would think of him as especially level-headed and quite moderate. Albedo was one of the few knights that were rarely ever seen in a fit of anger. He never once let his emotions get the better of him. Or, well, no one had ever once seen it for themselves.

And yet, it would seem that you were always someone who imposed such troublesome thoughts into his mind. As of being the first person to make his heart beat a little, Albedo was devoted to you with very essence of being.

If asked of him, the man would even put down his ongoing experiments to spend time with a certain someone. Just something about the warm feeling enveloping his heart, his cheeks dipped in crimson hues, and his eyes brightening at the sight of you, was so refreshing.

The Head Alchemist, if it wasn’t obvious already, was quite smitten with his partner. And it was only now that he had started to indulge in physical affection, so when he first saw your sleeve smear his kiss, his eyebrows furrowed.

At first, the blonde was taken aback, but he would come to his senses when he saw Sucrose from the corner of his eyes. Oh, they’re shy; Was what crossed his mind. Yet, it was the same result when alone in your shared bedroom.

Albedo was never one to hide his feelings or thoughts from anyone, so he was quite straightforward with his concerns. The pouty look that dragged deep into his lips instantly killed the urge to ignore the question. How could you try to fool your lover any longer, especially when they acted like a lost puppy and melted in your hands like putty?

'𝑔𝑜𝓇𝑜𝓊;-

An army general does not have much time in mornings to go prancing around and parading their lover. Every minute, every second counts. Even then, Gorou somehow always manages to sneak in teeny tiny gestures that showcase his affection for his partner.

It was a slow, lazy morning. One where both neither you, nor Gorou dared to open your eyes, and shake them of their sleepiness. But when duty calls, he must answer. The brunette hurriedly got up, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead as you drowsily lulled in your sleep, a hand swatting your skin.

He thought nothing of it then, of course as you were sleepy you could’ve thought of the ghostly familiarity of his lips grazing your skin as a bug or something of the sort.

But his eyes couldn’t bear to hold the gaze of your hand scraping the skin he kissed yet again later that evening. It was the second time this day, he blinked, what could he have done wrong? Was there anything even wrong in the first place?

You were conversing perfectly fine with him, both of you even had lunch together, so was it just the simple physical touch? Gorou never knew he could ever, and would ever, feel so insecure about himself in regards of someone else, alas here he was.

Leaning against the door frame, arms crossed against his chest and lost in a daze. He pursed his lips as you came into view once again, a towel draped over your shoulders, he saw you come from the bathroom, hair wet and all.

Brushing through it, he came up from behind kissing the base of your neck and peeking up to get your reaction. One of which, you didn’t illicit. So the war general opted to burying his head in your shoulder. “Why did you wipe away my kiss this afternoon?”

He could feel your movements slow, a finger tapping against your lip. It was habit he grew fond of as you had eased into living with him. He knew you were thinking about the transactions of the past.

“Sorry, did I?” Archons, how could you not be aware of your actions, such actions that make his heart nervously beat? And yet, he daren’t question you. Blindingly believed you, for he trusted in you and hoped you wouldn’t deceive him in your relationship. As intimacy is based from trust, so how could he not trust someone he held so dear.

'𝓀𝒶𝓏𝓊𝒽𝒶;-

Kazuha had just finished his serenade before he decided place a kiss upon your forehead, but not only did you inch away, but you also hastily dabbed at your skin with your sleeve.

The platinum-haired male simply opted to stare at you, the whole action in itself was so uncouth and uncultured, he hadn’t even had the understand what had just transpired before his eyes.

As he saw you raise your eyebrow at his intent gaze, he turned away. Excusing himself, exempting himself by saying he was needed elsewhere. Kazuha of all people was quite susceptible to emotional, and physically body language. He had keen insight and would foresee quite a bit of troubling events, but this once he felt his ability was utterly useless.

Come dawn, and the brumal winds that told tales of winter approaching, [Name] walked down the deck to find the male leaning against the ship’s timber. Having seen them, he could be worried by the thin clothing of their night attire battling against the cold.

Kazuha’s first thought was to reach out and pull them into an embrace, but as his arms unfold, he only then realizes that they could be getting tired of him, considering the kiss they’d wiped off earlier.

And for someone as devout and genuine as Kazuha, it would have been strange to see him all down and pouty about something like a prank. So when you ask him, what’s wrong, love, how come you’re outside, it’s chilly? He’ll look away, and say something about wanting to watch the sun rise and how pretty it would look.

Although in reality, his statement would have been true, it wouldn’t entirely be the case. For he had settled outside to list the many possibilities relating to your actions. But when you take a seat next to him, he’ll break. Swiftly turning to you to ask:

“Why... Why would you ever do that? Do you, perhaps, not love me any more?” It’ll take effort to hold back your laughter and the poor male would only be even more confused. “Goodness, Kazuha, it was a joke. I, sincerely, would never ever do that again, okay?”

And he’d hold you close, so close that you could practically feel your lungs constricting against the strength of his arms. His kisses were meant for you alone, so never make the mistake of doing that ever again.

[poorlydrawnedwardelric]

welcome to poorlydrawnedwardelric!

this is a satire blog based off of the “poorly drawn” ask account genre, if it wasn’t already obvious. asks and submissions are open and happily received and answered by whatever mod is available at the time!

i’ll try not to make this long, so here’s the synopsis: here u can send in questions/asks and get horribly drawn mspaint eds in response! there’s the basic “no nsfw, serious, etc etc questions” criteria before anything else tho! :^)

♥ have fun! - mod pip/macchi (@ling-eds) 

[queenlua]

Rules: tag 9 people you’d like to know/catch-up with:

Tagged by @zencribnotes (hi, yay, ty for the tag!)

Last show:

I watched season 1 of Columbo, mostly on the basis of “the creator of Phoenix Wright loved it,” and, man!  What a fun series.  There’s something relentlessly compelling about Columbo’s persistent aw-shucks demeanor combined with how his relentless undercurrent of “I’ve sunk my teeth in and will not let go”; the villains are generally compelling and smart with just a dash of the fatal arrogance/doth-protest-too-much that will be their undoing; I’m now weirdly entranced by 70s fashion; the slower pacing is pretty refreshing compared to modern shows; it’s good stuff.

The whole procedural-drama format is a genre didn’t really “click” for me until this past year or so, and it’s been a ton of fun exploring what the genre has to offer.

Currently watching:

I’ve been rewatching The Boondocks a bit, which is kind of a trip—like, mostly I just needed a fun sitcom to watch during dinner, and I remembered watching it on late-night TV as a kiddo—and it is fun, but it’s also from such a specific moment/era in comedy, yaknow?  Parts of it are acerbic on-point satire; other parts really miss the mark or, uh, haven’t aged well, let’s say.  The highs are still crazy-high, though.

Currently reading:

Reaganland: America's Right Turn 1976-1980 by Rick Perlstein.  Hilariously, I impulse-bought the ebook of this after listening to an interview with the author, thinking to myself, “this will be a good way to learn more about the Reagan era, which I’ve been meaning to learn about!”  So I started reading, and reading, and reading… and when I was 25% of the way in, I was like, “jfc, we’re STILL in 1976, when are we going to get to Reagan’s presidency?”  Which is when I (1) looked at the page count for the first time (“oh my god this is over a thousand pages”), and (2) looked at the subtitle for the first time (“oh we just. don’t even. get. to his presidency. oops”), and…. lol.

BUT AT THAT POINT I was already having a good time and pretty committed, so, whatever :P  It’s an interesting if intermittently-frustrating read.  So much of e.g. the US dems’ fundamental dysfunction, inability to grow a bench, weird flat-footedness in the face of obvious threats, etc, are just… there!  All the way back in 1976!  Time is a flat circle and I guess we’ll just have the same problems for decades and decades, sigh.

And wrt eg the feminist movement particularly (and also the movement for gay rights, and other social-progress-y movements), there’s such a palpable sense of what was already being lost, even before the New Right revolution had fully taken hold.  There was a moment of broad bipartisan consensus on a lot of important issues, and then… there wasn’t, lol.  Also there’s just a sense of dynamism/fearlessness you get from e.g. the book’s profile of Bella Abzug that, ironically, it feels like it’d be hard for a female politician to get away with nowadays—at least not while being as popular as she was at her height.

(I’m hoping to do a more in-depth writeup of this one on my Dreamwidth when I’m finished with it, but it’ll be a bit.)

Nonfiction:  See above.  Did I mention long book is long?  I may as well give a pitch for Matt Stoller’s newsletter, who does interesting deep-dives on how monopolies have distorted various sectors of the economy; I first found him via his writeup on the truck driver shortage, and while he’s hit-or-miss he’s more hit than misses imo

Last book: If we’re willing to count novella as book-length, it’d be “Beggars in Spain” by Nancy Kress, a smart lil scifi novella that won the Hugo/Nebula in the 90s.  I’ve been meaning to write a proper review of it, but to give an idea: after finishing, I read that the author wrote it in response to both Ursula Le Guin’s The Dispossessed and Ayn Rand’s work—I can see both those in the result, quite clearly, though the result feels more Le Guin-ish overall, and also the author wisely grounds the narrative in a very human conflict between sisters that lent it the emotional heft/realism it needed.

(If we’re going with Only Actual Books Allowed, it’s this silly lil mystery novel I read while on vacation; very much the kind of light entertainment one reads with beer in hand after a long day of birdwatching :P)

Tagging: if I follow you consider yourself tagged.  or don’t, whatever, only if you feel like it :P

[bullworthdrabbles]

Women of Bullworth: Part 1 Eunice Pound TW: Blatant Fatphobia

Eunice is one of the first young women we meet in the game functioning as a tutorial for the player on how to interact with the other female NPCs in the game. She gives Jimmy a basic fetch quest which Jimmy is rewarded for completing with a kiss. The bully Wiki describes her as:

“Eunice is overweight with brown hair and blue eyes. She is also very unattractive, and has freckles on her face and notably speaks with a deep voice.”

“Eunice is a very insecure person, and is described by Gary as being weird. Her poor looks and clumsiness make life at school difficult for her, and she can sometimes be quite sour and hostile towards others. She also isn't very well-spoken.”

“Eunice is overweight because she enjoys food and eating. She's ashamed of her weight, however, and she talks about dieting and doing sports to help lose some. She has a crush on Jimmy since he was actually nice to her early in the school year.”

This is the first girl Jimmy and the player are introduced to that Jimmy can kiss or interact with and you can already see the problem I have with the way she is written. Her role in the story is very minuscule, not much more than a footnote so you might be wondering why I chose to do her first, besides her being the first girl’s Jimmy’s age we get introduced to. I chose her because her problems are plain to see, her involvement is short and easy to cover, and beyond just the problematic writing, she isn’t that bad as a character. Eunice, to me, is one of the many girls where I saw the potential for better, but that Rockstar didn’t fulfill.

Let’s start with the obvious problem, Rockstar’s use of blatantly fatphobic stereotypes. Her name is Eunice Pound for Christ’s sake, they knew what they were doing and saying with the making of her character. They made her take only chocolates instead of flowers as a present for Jimmy to kiss her. They made her the only female character Jimmy’s age to have a different build that doesn’t look like the societal ideal of beauty at the time. Literally, every other teen girl has almost the exact same character model except her. It is told to us as the player that the reason she is considered “weird” and “unattractive” is directly due to her weight. Once again continuing the trend of devaluing fat women just because they don’t fit society’s very narrow ideals of womanhood.

Now, I know that Rockstar is known for satirizing society and uses a lot of it in this game but here’s the thing, an important part of satire is the critique aspect. Satire uses humor to point out and call attention to issues. But what exactly are they calling out with Eunice? What is Rockstar saying with Eunice? Well, I don’t know what they were trying to say but all they got across with her is the same fatphobic bullshit we see in every other form of media. They just made her a joke tutorial kissable character that is only there for when Jimmy needs a health boost while he’s wearing something so stupid the other girls and boys won’t go for him. And in cut content, Jimmy would have had the opportunity to throw a rat onto her for fun. Because Rockstar clearly sees fat women and the humiliation of them as funny. The same 2006 era fatphobic jokes and stereotypes are now with the Rockstar seal of approval.

Now, I know this is a game set in a high school, so there will likely be fatphobia present, and bullying someone for their weight isn’t unheard of in high school. My issue is they gave her no real character beyond the stereotypes and they never gave her a chance to become more. She’s not her own person, she has no real story, and she has no real unique traits beyond her weight. This sucks because, based on all the dialogue I’ve listened to her say, she seems to be one of the nicest girls in the school. Yet, the game keeps telling us as the player that she isn’t as worthwhile or attractive as the others who constantly blackmail, disrespect, and order around Jimmy.

Rockstar could have done more, flipped stereotypes on their heads, treated Eunice as just as worthwhile and attractive as the other kissable girls. Hell, they could have given her a story, a character, even a few traits that had nothing to do with her weight. She, like a lot of the other women in this game that I will be writing about, had the potential to be more, but Rockstar just didn’t care enough to do so. Rockstar spent the time to put fully rendered birds in the sky you will never see or interact with, but they couldn’t give Eunice the time to flesh her out and make her more than a fatphobic stereotype. And as you’ll see in my next posts Eunice wasn’t the only woman in Bullworth to be snubbed by Rockstar’s lazy writing.

[bidean-byedean]

The levels of queerness involved in Holy Terror when Dean talks about Cas banging April were already insane (gay sex bottle clinking strikes again) but even more so post 15x18. Like the way we all acknowledged that Dean was jealous too interested in Cas’ sex life (he shoehorns it in and he doesnt say “the reaper you banged” as compliment but as like an accusation??). Then he overcompensates massively for it, which is The Dean Winchester Gender Theory 101. Like Dean wasn’t congratulating Cas on banging April, and he seems aware of that so tries to offset his tonal mistake by adding she was hot 😉😉😉😉 (Straight points for Dean!!) BUT THEN CAS - the campy, soft spoken, most clockably gay version of Cas we’ve seen - JUST PARROTS HIM?? In an episode that’s all about Cas literally copying the Winchesters in order to be A Normal Human and it’s presented as comedic satire of them because they’re so not normal?!?!, you literally cannot ignore it!! You’ve heard [unadorned sincerity] from Cas, so what’s all this then??? The way that he says “so hot” is so forced and so clearly for Dean’s sake!! What queer person watching that did not recognise that flat attempt at Being One of The Lads?? He did not mean it, which in turn makes Dean saying it in the first place a joke as well. Like Dean who are you performing for here? Why does the idea of Cas banging someone else upset your vibe so much?? And then: “And so nice” - what???? He clearly has no idea about what he’s copying from dean here. Not a single heterosexual thought in his head that isn’t stolen straight from Dean’s handbook on Being A Man Dude. That’s why he makes it about gender neutral characteristics, not her specifically female body, which Dean tried to do. AND THEN Cas immediately mentions that it was actually a traumatic incident for him?? Like April was not a Good Time, but Dean is just like.... hookups are Like That??? Like what??? What do you mean Dean??? Why are they using screen time to make Cas read as Gay, talk about how much he didn’t enjoy having sex with a woman, and make Dean relate to that all while Cas is blatantly copying Dean’s masculinity markers??? We’re literally watching a gay man pretend to be heterosexual to impress his (secret gay) Crush by copying his gender performance, which is really a closeted queer man also pretending to heterosexual. Right in front of our faces!! Oh and then Sam does his Gay Shit Alert throat clearing and tries to remove himself from the situation, even though he really has no obvious reason to feel awkward? Like Cas is his buddy and Dean didn’t actually say anything tmi, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to join in? What is it about Dean purposefully touching Cas while saying “not all hookups are perfect” that makes Sam want to nope out of the entire proximity??

The whole scene is honestly incredible. Why did they do it? It’s Buckleming! What!?? Like honest to god what was the point?? AND ALSO? If you wanna go supermetatextual (I know you do), we can bring in Jensen Jackles Jacting Joices Ackles talking about how Dean never acknowledged his feelings for Cas because he didn’t know if he could feel human emotions but CAS IS LITERALLY HUMAN HERE?? Cas was human! He had sex! He went on a “date” in front of Dean!! He understands and feels Eros and he’s made a connection between sex and romance (the sexual experience with April being ruined by her betraying him afterwards) by himself!! Idk where I’m going with this anymore!!! I guess that Dean is queer af all the time on the actual show!! But Please accept my entry to the gender studies class for spn programme at tumblr(dot)edu!!!!

Tldr; Cas is Gay (verified) and with like all most of the retrospectively textual evidence that he’s gay, it’s done by also highlighting Dean’s queerness at the same time and I want to eat glass because of middle aged white men on a c*w legacy show that ended a month ago.

[hawaiian-has-moved]

you aren’t cannon. beetlebabes is more cannon than you. at least that shit was in the musical and movie and cartoon.

Need I remind you idiots, since I have already said I'm no longer being nice to you anymore.

That I do not give a damn what you think it looked like to you in that fucked up brain of yours, it's still p*dophilia. Man it's almost sad I live this rent free in your head for existing. I just exist and your blood boils. It's cute.

Anyway, Lydia is a minor in every version.

And if you think the wedding in the movie was romantic. Man every gross man I've cringed at for being a creepo must have been true love.

But see, that's the thing you people don't get huh? Consent. Consent does not exist to you. If it did you wouldn't fight when people say that Lydia is a minor and therefore cannot consent. It doesn't click because you found something hot about shipping this developing teen with this old as fuck perv.

But oh? Is that not enough for you, you cry, begging to justify your vile ship. Allow me to humor you and go through the other versions.

In fact! I'll analyze a whole song just for you.

Also please look at yet another picture of Lydia obviously not having it.

Way back when I was just ten

Simple and sweet

Everywhere, fellas would stare

Out on the street

And I felt used

Kinda confused

I would refuse to look in their eyes

But now I really love creepy old guys

This is kinda obvious, she's been preyed on before by men. So basic p*do trying to gr**m a kid scenario. But the satire to the song of course is that "it's all fine now" Which it's obviously not, she's just using this to trick him so they can send him back as an end goal.

We all do!

Gum disease

Skin like grilled cheese

Saggy old asses

(Saggy old asses)

Cute and vile

Hey baby, smile

To each girl that passes

They make me blush

(Can't get enough)

Now one of 'em loves me, wants to be mine

(That's right)

Marrying my own creepy old guy!

(I'm a creepy old guy)

This is just more playing out the satire of pretending it's okay, but with Beej chiming in because he already lacks the knowledge that this is grooming and it's not okay. Tricking him into thinking this is fine to end up killing him is a breeze.

My creepy old guy, my creepy old guy

I'm so happy I could cry

Girls may seem disgusted, but we're actually just shy

It's not uncommon that I've heard about or heard someone get told that they're just shy when a gross ass old man or someone is trying to gr**m a kid. It's gaslighting and manipulation in most cases. So for them to say that it's because they're actually just shy as part of the satire is the point.

My creepy old groom (creepy old groom)

Play that wedding tune

Hey folks, step aside

(I am older, but I'm glad I waited)

And if you've watched a bootleg, you would recall Barbara right here smiling and then turning away with eyes wide, like "this is not fucking okay" Kind of look on her face. But yeah this is another one of those phrases that you hear too often in these gross situations.

'Cause here comes the bride

I am marrying my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy)

He's my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy!)

Fix his hair

Get him prepared

For Armageddon

Again if you have seen a bootleg, here Lydia puts a finger to her lips and goes shhhh. Because Armageddon is Beejs death.

Sure, the groom

Crawled out of a tomb

But hey, hey, it's a wedding!

He's really fucking old guys. There is a huge age gap and this is p*dophilia.

So dim the lights

Pick up some rice

Say something nice

It's my day to shine

I'm getting hitched to my creepy old guy

(It's showtime)

Creepy old guy, creepy old guy

She's marrying a creepy old guy

Have you guys seen "Lolita"?

This is just like that, but fine

I have not seen Lolita, but I have been told it's similar to this who marriage scenario and is mega bad. Now if it were Lolita fashion, that is made to ward off men, so I assume it's a movie from what info I have.

Creepy old dude, creepy old dude

Our faith has been renewed

Now love is alive!

Wave your baby girl goodbye

I am walking down the aisle

I wanna see a tear in every eye as I pass by

I know that on the outside he's disgusting

And even on the inside, he's disgusting

This whole scenario is fucking vile. He's vile.

But I know that this time, I'm makin' it right

(Making it right, making it right!)

With my family by my side

O.M.G.

Dressed to a "T"

Fancy and formal

I found me a wife

L'chaim to life

This is so normal!

I was ignored

But now, I'm adored!

'Cause I extorted, tortured, and lied

Give it up for my underage bride!

They've done it, they have successfully tricked him into thinking this is okay with no funny business. But he's about to get stabbed. L'chaim to life is a nod at him being Jewish, also he had a Kippah in the DC version which backed this joke, but it fell off a lot ig so he doesn't have it now. Traditionally there was a lot of marrying women off to much older men for property and stuff, as most religions do/did tho. I was in a production of Fiddler on the roof for example and that was the whole premise.

Here comes the bride

Here comes the bride

God be glorified

I can't believe some cultures think this kind of thing's alright

My creepy old guy

My creepy old guy

Doesn't he deserve a chance at life?

Oh yeah, that's right

Yeah, that's right

So let's make him alive!

I am marrying my creepy old guy!

Guy, guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy

(I have chills)

Yeah!

And then they stab him and the till death do we part sign over the stage all makes sense now because the wedding vows are undone and since he's recently deceased he almost returns to the netherworld.

Etcetera etcetera... But of course you guys go tome deaf at that one when it plays if I remember right.

Oh right, the cartoon, of course, I knew just what you were thinking don't worry. You're thinking "oh well what about the comics, and the valentine cards! And and the animators who drew lewd stuff of Lydia!" Well.... Haha! Still p*dophilia! And also I have seen the infamous Lydia drawing and it's got her head shape, nose, lips, but it's not fully her. Even if it was again my first point, still p*dophilia. And yeah just because the people who worked on it drew it, doesn't make it suddenly okay. Ffs...

I couldn't even find a cartoon wedding that wasn't fan drawn to match this one. Because that doesn't exist! But I do have my favorite point to make.

Beetlejuice's look into Lydia's future in Pest O' the West.

Now why you b*bes were busy being p*dos and gr**ming kids on the internet into thinking this shit is okay, I was mastering the art of common fucking sense.

Beej makes a joking remark that he cannot see into the future while hiding from Bully the Crud, but when he does as per usual, his puns and phrases make his magic go to work. So a crystal ball appears in front of him showing the future in the images I've provided.

Lydia, doing a heaping pile of dishes as a ghost for bully and all of their kids, very unhappy and driven insane. Because imagine what being married to someone it's obviously wrong to be with would do to her mind. He hates seeing her like this, so he rushes to save her. Which he successfully does.

Toon is actually the one with canon evidence of this shit being not okay to him.

Also before anyone tries to say it, no the movie and cartoon aren't connected, she doesn't even live in Winter River in the cartoon that should have made it obvious. Besides she's like 14-16 in the movie. So I don't think she de-aged.

Lastly, two things that are off topic. I believe it's spelled canon, and before anyone goes saying fiction doesn't effect reality, I would like you to explain to me how being a Jedi is a official religion if that is so true.

See anon! I gave you my special, condescending talk that too two hours to type on my phone! You stalked me endlessly and I picked you as the special anon that, I didn't deletes ask for being a gross piece of shit in a minors ask box! Wow. That searching my name clicking on my asks, and typing out all that so I could live rent free in your head really.... Didn't work lol. I may have took two hours to type this, but I assure you I will forget about you in 2 days max. Because unlike you, I have better things to do than ship a minor with an ancient demon. Bye bye now, be sure to rant about me with pure rage to your house p*do friends so that my existence may spread further into other people's minds! Woo... Being famous is so tough. 😉