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#this seems to be the Scene That Everyone Draws so here's my contribution.
fortisloid · 23 days
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8x10" oil on canvas
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We need to talk about this
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because Yuuri's reaction here is a result of his anxiety disorder and his tendency to self-deprecation and having depressive thoughts. That he ends up here is being carefully foreshadowed throughout the series:
First, Viktor said a couple of things that made Yuuri believe that Viktor only wants to coach him until the GPF:
This
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and this
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is enough to convince and anxious person like Yuuri that Viktor has no intention to coach him beyond the GPF. Note that Viktor never explicitly states that he will coach Yuuri only for the first half of the season - it's the natural conclusion an anxious brain will draw. And that's neither Viktor's nor Yuuri's fault.
And then this, while Yuuri is within hearing distance:
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I'm getting a queasy feeling in my stomach just from watching this scene because I relate to Yuuri so much. If I had eavesdropped on this interview, I would have freaked out internally. Like what does that even mean? Is he talking about his career or is this a carefully crafted answer to convince the press to leave him and Yuuri alone for the next couple of weeks? This secret is probably between Viktor and the YOI creators alone (I have theories, but I'm not going to discuss them here because this post is about Yuuri).
Second, although he becomes more confident throughout the show, the self-deprecating part of Yuuri has a low opinion about his own skating. From his perspective, his contribution to the sport seems less valuable than Viktor's, even when he starts to understand that he's far more than a dime-a-dozen skater. The realisation that he is as least as talented as Viktor, only drives home the moment he breaks Viktor's world record.
Because Yuuri has such a low opinion of himself, he doesn't understand how much Viktor enjoys watching him skate, which is another aspect factoring into his decision.
Third, Yuuri genuinely believes that Viktor wants to return to the ice and would rejoice when Yuuri retires. Having seen Viktor watch the other skaters at the GPF cements the decision he made at the Rostelecom Cup. The fact that basically everyone has told him throughout the last 11 episodes that he's keeping Viktor from skating gives more weight to the idea.
Yes, you got that right. Yuuri deided to retire, before he proposed to Viktor and before he bought two matching rings and put one of them on Viktor's finger. However, now Yuuri knows that Viktor would coach him for as long as Yuuri wants to keep skating, which forces him to release Viktor from his duties at the point he believes Viktor wanted to stop coaching him initially.
"Let's end this" is not about breaking up. Yuuri is releasing Viktor as his coach. He is sacrificing his career so that Viktor can keep pursuing his own career which Viktor once sacrificed for him.
Of course he's surprised that Viktor bursts out in tears.
Yuuri has the right to retire whenever he wants. He doesn't need to consult Viktor. If he thinks (for whichever stupid reason) it's time, he can make this decision on his own.
Is it selfish?
Lol no. Only Viktor thinks it is because he's conflating the coach and the partner and takes it personally. He's hurt and feels rejected because he doesn't understand that Yuuri did it for him and that causes a drama Yuuri was not prepared for.
Is it stupid?
Absolutely. But poor communication skills, Yuuri is too caught up in his mental issues to even think of having a discussion that would lead them to a solution with which both would be happy (both training in St. Petersburg *wink* *wink*). It's not malice, insensitivity, or shitty behaviour that drives Yuuri to this point. It's all about his mental issues. And love.
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1dpridefest · 11 months
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We want to extend a massive thank you to everyone who participated in the first ever edition of the 1D Pride Fest! Whether you submitted a prompt, wrote a fic, created some art, or reblogged everyone’s works, this fest would not have been the same without you, and we thank you all for helping us celebrate Pride Month together!
Links to all of the fics and artworks that were submitted as part of the fest can be found below. Don’t forget to show our authors and artists some love by leaving kudos, commenting, and reblogging their lovely contributions!
We hope you all had a happy Pride Month!
🏳️‍🌈✨🏳️‍⚧️
Artworks
🏳️‍🌈 Collaboration between @wendersfive & @broken-beak-flower-feast
🏳️‍⚧️ just get there your own way by @nouisforlife
🏳️‍🌈 Drawing by @harryshandbag
Fics
🏳️‍⚧️ Hold Me Tight (Or Don’t) by @hellolovers13
Falling in love with Louis is easy enough.
Separating Louis from the singer persona Harry has been a fan of for years, however, is not.
But she's not the only one making assumptions.
🏳️‍🌈 The Magnificent Ms. Malik: A Brand New Era Starts Here by @fifthnormani
In 2013, 1D records the Best Song Ever music video and Zayn feels different after he puts on his Veronica outfit. He doesn't know what to do with these feelings or what they mean; luckily Niall is there to help and gives Zayn a new word that opens up a world of previously unimagined possibilities.
Ten years later, in 2023, she calls Niall up again to tell him her new name.
🏳️‍⚧️ Ask Him by @fxckingprincesspark
When Lewis Capaldi gets pressed for information on who he's dating, he admits it... he's been seeing Niall Horan. The only problem? He jokes so much that no one believes him.
🏳️‍🌈 Inner Crisis by @neondiamond
Louis calls an LGBTQ+ crisis hotline after coming out as asexual to his friends and family doesn’t quite go as well as he’d hoped. Harry answers his call.
🏳️‍⚧️ you made my heart stop by @itsnothesameasitwas
Don’t you ever feel like your life has been perfectly composed until one day it wasn’t, that everything seemed more than fine but it was not, because sometimes as simple as it might sound or look, it could change your life?
OR a Heartstopper AU, but in HarryandLouis Universe.
🏳️‍🌈 somewhere in between and not at all by @greeneyesfriedrice with art by @alphalouis
He’s always known that he’s some sort of queer. There’s no doubt about it. When he was younger, he loved the feeling of his sister’s pantyhose on his legs, and loved to play dress up whenever he could. But it never went any further than that, and as he got older, he hid that part from himself. There were more homophobes than not in his school, and he couldn’t risk anything getting out.
While he was hoping that he would become more involved in the gay scene, he wasn’t expecting it to happen so immediately. He’s barely been in NYC for two days, and he’s now surrounded by all different types of men and…others? God, he isn’t even sure what to call them. He really doesn’t know much.
(or, Harry is new to NYC and discovers something about himself, and Louis is there for him. Always.)
🏳️‍⚧️ Paint A Rainbow Inside My Heart by @cyantific
A story about hiding in plain sight and the journey to revealing your truth, told in six acts.
Or, the five times Harry queer coded with actions, behaviors or clothing and the one time he was too proud to hide anymore.
A 5+1 fic.
1D Pride Fest Collection on AO3
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lylahammar · 1 year
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Do you have any tips for developing a healthier relationship to being fat? I'm fat and have a uhhhhh very negative relationship with the physical appearance of my body, despite treating my body well on a physical level. I read a ton of fat liberation stuff and fat positive studies and while logically I know that being fat isn't bad and has no bearing on morality, personality, etc, I still can't seem to apply this reasoning to myself. Most of the content on the internet is geared towards cis abled woman when I'm a trans disabled man, so that probably contributes to some extent, but idk. It also doesn't help that attraction-wise I'm definitely drawn to people who are the exact opposite of me physically (tall, lanky, angular, etc). I've been trying for years to even just be okay with my appearance and none of the common advice has worked. I pretty much only feel okay with myself when I forget that I have a physical body. Your fat positive content makes me really happy and you seem to have a positive relationship with your body, so I thought it was worth asking if you had any tips for me or anyone else who might need them.
Feel free to disregard this message if it makes you uncomfortable! You don't know me and I don't want to put my feelings on you. I appreciate any response you might give, but I also don't want to breach any boundaries. I hope you have a nice day!
-🧪
Hello!! I've been thinkin about this question since you sent it yesterday, it's a very good question but also a toughie 😅 The thing to keep in mind is that internalized fatphobia isn't a problem caused by personal problems, it's almost entirely a societal thing. I've been working on my body image issues for a long long time now, and honestly sometimes I do still feel down about my fatness. BUT it gets easier and easier as you get older, I promise you that! Especially if you keep working on it. So here are some tips I can think of:
Try to consume a lot of body neutral media! For me, body positive stuff can get a little grating and actually do the opposite of its intended purpose, because the constant focus on "everyone is beautiful!! Love your fat body!" can start to feel... I don't know, like it's drawing attention to it too much, and making it less normal. I like media in which fatness is portrayed as normal and doesn't get alienated so much, even in a positive way. A few good recommendations I can think of off the cuff are Dungeon Meshi (can't help plugging my fave manga heheh, Ryoko Kui is just so loving in her portrayal of different body types), Steven Universe, Hairspray, and Porco Rosso. Couplagoofs on Instagram, tiktok, twitch and youtube are really good influencers for this, watching their content has helped me a lot with my own body image! I've heard that Shrill is a good show for fat representation, but I've only seen this one scene (which is very good) so I can't speak definitively about it's quality! If anyone else has any good suggestions, please reply with them 🙏
Stay off of tiktok until you feel more comfortable with your own body. Tiktok is kind of a trap, because it'll put a lot of really great diverse body neutral stuff on your fyp to lure you in, but then it'll shut you down with the most hateful shit you've ever seen. And if you're not on the body neutral side of tiktok, you'll be in skinny town USA thirst trap hell forever lmfao it's just like not worth it
Surround yourself with accepting people. It's especially helpful to seek out other fat/fat positive friends (especially of the queer and neurodivergent variety). Fat people are everywhere, we're way more common than society and media would have you think!! It's good to have people around you to remind you of that 😁
If you have the money for it, try going on a special shopping trip to find some clothes that make you feel really good. Go alone, unless you have someone who you feel 100% comfortable with, because this trip should be about your needs and whatever makes you feel happy with your own body. You don't need anyone else's opinion for that! I know that this bit of advice is a little cliche, but it's just what has helped me personally.
This might be just a me thing, but practicing with drawing fat bodies has probably done more for my body image than anything else. It forces you to spend a lot of time looking at fatness and really growing to understand it and accept it. I've got a pinterest board for fat poses that I've been collecting (which I've just realized only has feminine people in it, I need to fix that >:/ ). Fat Photo Reference is another good site for practice, but it requires a password, so if anyone wants to get in then just DM me! Self portraits are also a great idea for this, especially if you find fatness beautiful in other people but not yourself, like you've said! Maybe give it a shot on a day when you're feeling up to it 💛
I hope this helps!! I'm not an expert on this, so my advice might be just as cliche and unhelpful as everything else out there 😅 but this is all just from personal experience. Fatness is normal and healthy and beautiful, so I hope you can come to accept your own soon!! 🙏
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sennqu · 2 years
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in the span of less than a week, i've gone from "oh nice they're finally making it overt that will's gay. sad his feelings won't be reciprocated though but oh well" to "if byler isn't endgame then what was the point".
i've been lurking the tags and some of the discussions on reddit and have some Thoughts:
(i'm not laying out the reasons and evidence of why i think byler is endgame because i think other fans have got that down. my contribution to the tag is why i think unrequited byler isn't possible as a satisying pay-off in the story from the POV of a Will Byers fan and a less involved ST fan who hasn't seen a lot of cast interviews/outside material.)
the biggest point that made me consider against will's feelings being reciprocated at first was that maybe his storyline was a continuation of S3 which posited that he was unable to "move on and grow up". a redditor brought up that maybe confessing his feelings and subsequently being rejected will help will finally move on from his "childhood" and grow up. This was a compelling argument to me at the time because 1. so far S4 does seem to retread character relationship beats from before (Lucas and Max, Mike and Eleven, Steve and Nancy) and 2. i didn't have faith in the duffers giving us a good and satisfying character arc for Will.
Howsmtever!! when i thought about it more, that kinda storyline for will didn't really make any sense. we see in S4 Vol. 1 that will has taken up painting. not pencil or crayon drawings like in past seasons but paints! He's broadening his art horizons, i.e he's already growing up and moving onto new things.
we see will (and the rest of the byers) has completely taken in El as part of the family. if will hasn't moved on, wouldn't his relationship with her be shown to have more friction? if he still thinks that she is the girl who stole his friend/childhood away. but we see in cali he comforts her after her diorama is stepped on, is mad alongside her when mike says the "she didn't look fine" line, and will subtly puts his arm in front of her as a shield when the police come to take el away, among other brotherly gestures of love. he's not loud with his affections and he's not the type to visibly stand up against bullies and the like but in his limited scenes with el, we do see that he fully treats and loves el as a member of the family.
so anyways, that's that on that. will's moved on and thriving as best he could post-S3 and before the plot of S4 throws everyone back into the fire.
to state, i am working off on the assumption that the text is telling us 2 things: 1. that will is gay, and 2. that he is in love with mike. So. What else could point towards Will's feelings not being returned as a satisfying part of his character arc if the "moving on and growing up" part isn't the point?
the other argument i've seen is that a rejection will lead to heartbreak will lead to Will either getting vecna'd and/or siding with the villain leading into S5. and while i would love to see Will just fucking shit up, what would be the point of this? will loves his friends and his family. why would he turn his back on them even if the love of his life rejected him? he even says outright in vol. 1 that it was "you guys" that saved him. there isn't conflict here. and sidenote, his fear of rejection is probably what'll put him in danger of vecna's curse and not actually getting rejected. and then what's the pay off going with this route.? that even if he's rejected, he'll realize he still has his friends? but he already learned this in S3 (see: "not possible" line). it's not the same with max because her issues were the direct fall-out of the S3 ending.
So let's back up and say maybe getting rejected isn't that big of a deal in the big picture. lots of guys irl and in the 80s have been rejected by their crushes before. this is just gonna be a blip in will's life (he'll confess, mike will be sorry, and then onto the next scene) and then we can move on to the "real" plot of the story and maybe learn will's connection to the Upside Down and shit. to which i ask: why bring up his crush if it's not gonna be important in the grand scheme of things?? in his character arc?? just to pander to the gays? just for representation? when there's an arguably larger faction of people who would love will's orientation to truly be up for interpretation or for him to just be a delayed straight guy?? that doesn't make sense. i truly believe that the writers think that him being gay and in love with his best friend is an important enough part of the story that shouldn't be set aside.
from this long-ass, rambly text post, I've laid out my points on why i think rejection is just not possible for will's story assuming the writers are half-way decent at their jobs. and they seem to be, forgetting will's canon birthday aside.
And just to add-on, non byler fans hoping that Will gets a boyfriend (in the form of an as-yet unnamed character so he can be happy) while in the same breath saying how hard it is for gay guys in the 80s to find love is HILARIOUS. both of these things can be solved if byler is endgame. and also the jokes(?) saying will deserves better than mike?? will doesn't want anyone BUT mike.
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hircyon · 2 years
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What's your favourite parts of both the citadel and deception arcs? Are there any scenes you wish had gone differently?
Well, for the Deception arc, I probably liked Friends and Enemies the most. I enjoyed the more low-key character interactions between "Hardeen," Bane, and Moralo. I think we got some of the best subtle facial animation and voice acting in that episode.
My issue isn't so much a scene. I just wish they had done more with Moralo to make him...anything. He wasn't a comically inept villain, he was just a limp, cowardly weasel who got shoved aside in favor of drawing parallels between Bane and Obi-Wan. You'd think there would have to be some reason Moralo had the reputation they mentioned, but we never see it.
I put in a lot of work to give his character a shred of dignity, and to try to pull his actions together to form a coherent and defensible set of motivations. But all my meta relies on other people's willingness to believe me. From the riot scene on, Moralo is entirely willing to answer to Bane. They gave him almost nothing to do except bitch (which I do enjoy, don't get me wrong) and fail, inevitably dragging everyone else down with him. Maybe to prove the difference between an egoist and a truly dangerous professional, which in turn makes you cast that same light on Obi-Wan, the only one who can keep up with Bane. I don't know, honestly. Moralo contributed almost nothing, and I wish they had just given him more.
They really should have stepped up his sadism with The Box. I'm not saying make the show more violent or edgy, but I wish they'd made it more clear that Moralo had this planned and was exerting control over the game the entire time.
That seemed to be what they were revealing in the sniper room (and with that "Let's see what happens when he's not the key to their survival" line), that he could rig the game and end anyone's life at any time if it benefited him. I feel the writers had to push that reveal out to the end for dramatic tension, but it made his character inconsistent and weak.
As for the Citadel arc, I don't have such strong opinions about it lmao. I'm here for Osi. I think my favorite part is the overall arc of his rising anxiety and desperation, and how you can read it in his facial expressions and tone. I haven't watched a ton of TCW actually, but this felt like one of the more raw and dangerous arcs for everyone. They really did sell that feeling that everyone's life was in danger, and the characters acted accordingly--moreso than some other arcs I've watched. I guess because this one had more characters they could kill.
As for what I'd want to change, I really just wanted Osi to survive. They've resurrected worse. I just wanted a hint he would come back, even if they didn't fulfill it. It's not like the show ever treated his death as traumatizing or important for Ahsoka; everything I've read on that front has been from the fandom. He died because he was a disposable, one-note villain.
This is petty but they should have let Osi slam dunk Tarkin. I know they couldn't have. But, honestly.
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perpetual-stories · 3 years
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How To Fight Writers Block
hello, hello. hope everyone is doing well. as you can all tell, this post will be about how to fight writers block.
it’s really annoying to me when I hear people say “oh you don’t have writers block, you’re just lazy.”
first of all, yes, I am naturally lazy. second of all, how dare you. writing isn’t as easy as many think. granted, all you have to do is write down words on paper, but it’s not always easy to find the right words to express what you are feeling, or what you wish to say.
I have had terrible writer’s block for the last few days and it’s horrible! as a business owner or a small writing store, I have to be ready to write and fulfill my clients’ ideas and orders.
it’s not easy. It takes a heavy toll on my imagination, and digs me a deep pit of blockage, drowning in the lack of originality because of the constant writing and repetition or certain phrases and sentences in different projects.
i am making this post in the hopes to remind myself about over coming the dreaded and sometimes skeptically believed writer’s block.
What is writer’s block?
Yeah, I know. We all know what that is, but let me define it.
is the state of being unable to proceed with writing, and/or the inability to start writing something new
some people believe it to be a real problem, others believe it's “all in your head”
What Causes Writer’s Block?
in the 1970s, clinical psychologists Jerome Singer and Michael Barrios decided to find out
they concluded that there are four broad causes of writer's block:
Excessively harsh self-criticism
Fear of comparison to other writers
Lack of external motivation, like attention and praise
Lack of internal motivation, like the desire to tell one's story
How to overcome writer's block: 20 tips
1. Develop a writing routine:
Author and artist Twyla Tharp once wrote: “Creativity is a habit, and the best creativity is a result of good work habits.”
it might seem counterintuitive
if you only write when you “feel creative,” you're bound to get stuck in a tar pit of writer's block
The only way to push through is by disciplining yourself to write on a regular schedule. It might be every day, every other day, or just on weekends — but whatever it is, stick to it!
2. Use "imperfect" words:
A writer can spend hours looking for the perfect word or phrase to illustrate a concept
You can avoid this fruitless endeavor by putting, “In other words…” and simply writing what you’re thinking, whether it’s eloquent or not
You can then come back and refine it later by doing a CTRL+F search for “in other words.”
3. Do non-writing activities:
one of the best ways to climb out of a writing funk is to take yourself out of your own work and into someone else’s
Go to an exhibition, to the cinema, to a play, a gig, eat a delicious meal
immerse yourself in great STUFF and get your synapses crackling in a different way
Snippets of conversations, sounds, colors, sensations will creep into the space that once felt empty
4. Freewrite through it:
free-writing involves writing for a pre-set amount of time without pause — and without regard for grammar, spelling, or topic. You just write.
The goal of freewriting is to write without second-guessing yourself — free from doubt, apathy, or self-consciousness, all of which contribute to writer's block. Here’s how:
Find the right surroundings. Go somewhere you won't be disturbed.
Pick your writing utensils. Will you type at your computer, or write with pen and paper? (Tip: if you're prone to hitting the backspace button, you should freewrite the old-fashioned way!)
Settle on a time-limit. Your first time around, set your timer for just 10 minutes to get the feel for it. You can gradually increase this interval as you grow more comfortable with freewriting.
5. Relax on your first draft:
Many writers suffer form perfectionism, which is especially debilitating during a first draft
“Blocks often occur because writers put a lot of pressure on themselves to sound ‘right’ the first time. A good way to loosen up and have fun again in a draft is to give yourself permission to write imperfectly.” — editor Lauren Hughes
perfect is the enemy of good,” so don't agonize about getting it exactly right! You can always go back and edit, maybe even get a second pair of eyes on the manuscript
6. Don’t start at the beginning:
the most intimidating part of writing is the start, when you have a whole empty book to fill with coherent words
instead of starting with the chronological beginning of whatever it is you’re trying to write, dive into middle, or wherever you feel confident
7. Take a shower:
Have you ever noticed that the best ideas tend to arrive while in the shower, or while doing other “mindless” tasks?
research shows that when you’re doing something monotonous (such as showering, walking, or cleaning), your brain goes on autopilot, leaving your unconscious free to wander without logic-driven restrictions
showering is my favourite thing to do if I may add
8. Balance your inner critic:
successful writers have in common is the ability to hear their inner critic, respectfully acknowledge its points, and move forward
You don't need to completely ignore that critical voice, nor should you cower before it
you must establish a respectful, balanced relationship, so you can address what's necessary and skip over what's insecure and irrelevant
9. Switch up your tool:
a change of scenery can really help with writer's block. However, that scenery doesn't have to be your physical location — changing up your writing tool can be just as big a help!
if you’ve been typing on your word processor of choice, try switching to pen and paper. Or if you're just sick of Google Docs, consider using specialized novel writing software.
10. Change your POV:
great advice from editor Lauren Hughes: “When blocked, try to see your story from another perspective ‘in the room’ to help yourself move beyond the block. How might a minor character narrate the scene if they were witnessing it? A ‘fly on the wall’ or another inanimate object?
11. Exercise your creative muscles:
Any skill requires practice if you want to improve, and writing is no different! So if you’re feeling stuck, perhaps it’s time for a strengthening scribble-session to bolster your abilities
12. Map out your story:
If your story has stopped chugging along, help it pick up steam by taking a more structured approach — specifically, by writing an outline
13. Write something else:
Though it's important to try and push through writer's block with what you're actually working on, sometimes it's simply impossible
feel free to push your current piece to the side for now and write something new
14. Work on your characters:
It follows that if your characters are not clearly defined, you’re more likely to run into writer’s block
15. Stop writing for readers:
write for yourself, not your potential readers
this will help you reclaim the joy of being creative and get you back in touch with what matters: the story.
this is something I really need to do. because of my etsy business i don't write for fun anymore, but instead as a business and a deadline. i'm going to have to pull out my old crappy wattled fanfics or write some new ones.
16. Try a more visual process:
when words fail you, forget them and get visual. Create mind maps, drawings, Lego structures — ideally related to your story, but whatever unblocks your mind!
17. Look for the root of it:
writer’s block often comes from a problem deeper than simple “lack of inspiration.” So let's dig deep: why are you really blocked? Ask yourself the following questions:
Do I feel pressure to succeed and/or competition with other writers?
Have I lost sight of what my story is about, or interest in where it's going?
Do I lack confidence in my own abilities, even if I've written plenty before?
Have I not written for so long that I feel intimidated by the mere act?
Am I simply feeling tired and run-down?
once you identify what's wrong, it'll be so much easier to fix.
18. Quit the Internet:
If willpower isn’t your strong suit and your biggest challenge is staying focused, try a site blocker like Freedom or an app like Cold Turkey
19. Let the words find you:
meditate, go for a walk, take that shower
Word Palette is a great app that features a keyboard of random words, allowing you to simply click your way to your next masterpiece.
You can also try AI auto-completers like Talk to Transformer, where you can enter a phrase and let the app “guess what comes next.”
even though they often produce nonsense, it's a great way to help that writer's block.
20. Write like Hemingway:
And if your biggest block is your own self-doubt about your prose, Hemingway offers suggestions to improve your writing as you go
it's a pretty cool app if you ask me.
it highlights your sentences (if need be) and makes suggestions on how to improve them!
well, there you have it! a lengthy post on how to fight writer's block. now i just hope i can combat my own soon.
like, comment and reblog if you find this useful! feel free to reblog in instagram and tag me perpetualstories
Follow me on instagram and tumblr for more writing and grammar tips and more!
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twiceasfrustrating · 3 years
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Out in the Countryside
Rating: Teen and Up
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Relationship: Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Leviathan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Characters: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Additional Tags: Poly!MC, Picnic, fluff, hand-holding, implied drinking, Beel carries you, kissing these idiots being dumb but lovable
Summary: Sometimes you just wanted to have a nice day out with all of your boyfriends. You had the brilliant idea to go out for a picnic and enjoy some time away from the usual busy life you all lived. The brothers decided to indulge your wish, so into the equivalent of the Devildom countryside you go.
There was a lot of walking involved with picnics. You had never realized before how much walking really went into getting away from civilization. Not even a city, just some form of civilization. Then again, you had never seen the countryside in the Devildom before, so it wasn't fair to expect yourself to know that information beforehand. Well, maybe you should have, considering the human realm wasn't that different.
You had been left in charge of carrying the blanket, even after insisting you could carry something else. The brothers refused to let you, sitting that the baskets (yes, multiple) were heavy because they had to bring enough for eight people (one of which was Beel and his bottomless stomach) and one was full of dishes. They were objectively stronger than you, so there was no reason to have you exercise your limited human strength. The only brother not in charge of carrying a basket was Belphegor, who they worried would fall asleep on the spot if he had to use too much energy. Even Beel was allowed a basket of food in addition to the one for dishes (granted, it was one that had specifically been made so that he could eat it while walking because you all knew that was going to happen, but still).
The choice not to burden Belphie quickly proved to be a smart one, because he was soon yawning as he walked and you worried he would start literally sleeping walking.
You held the blanket against you in much the same way he did his pillow and went up to him, "Are you going to be okay?"
"Jus' tired..." His words slurred together, showing just how true that statement was.
"Yeah, this walk is pretty exhausting." At least one person agreed with you. Everyone else seemed to be doing just fine. It almost made you angry because that meant they had been right about you carrying extra weight and how it would have been taxing on you. Stupid correct logic, "Hey? After we all eat, would you like to take a nap?"
The look he gave you told you that was a definite yes, but he clearly missed your intentions.
"I meant, would you like to take a nap with me? Maybe I can let you use my lap as a pillow?" You knew how much he enjoyed doing that, and you did too.
His eyes turned to you and a little "Mhm" left him. He could never turn down a chance to take a nap with you.
Still, he looked tired enough that you worried about him, so you reached out your hand to hold his and make sure that he wouldn't wander away if he did start sleepwalking. He gladly entwined his fingers with your own as you both walked along.
You both stayed like that until Lucifer spoke up, "This is our destination."
Your attention shifted, looking out ahead of you rather than on making sure Belphie was still awake. All you could do was stare in awe. It is so powerful that you find yourself letting go of the youngest brother's hand and stepping forward to get a better look at what lies before you.
The Devildom countryside was nothing like what you expected. You weren't sure what it was you expected, but it wasn't flowers. Actual flowers! Not that you recognized whatever type of flora they were, but here they were. The scene of the meadow against the pale red sky was hauntingly beautiful and all you could think of was enacting the scene straight out of a movie where you frolicked in the field. You looked at the brothers with wide eyes, begging to be allowed to go enact your plan.
Lucifer nodded, "They're safe for humans." He held out his hand to take the blanket from you, which you gladly let him.
With a twinkle in your eyes, you ran away from them and toward the field of flowers, immediately feeling how the petals softly brushed against your exposed legs. Upon closer inspection, something about them reminded you of multicolored spider flowers dripping with morning dew and dandelions with exaggeratedly large puffs. As you danced through the meadow, the dandelion puffs broke free from their stems and floated off into the sky. You stared in wonder as they flew in the wind and were carried off somewhere far away. It was moments like these where it was the clearest that the human realm and the Devildom had many similarities you never had time to think about.
The brothers watched you from the place you had split off from them, seeing how you enjoyed your first exposure to wild Devildom flowers. Your blue sundress fluttered in the same wind that carried away the puffs, making you stand out against the brilliant sky behind you. Each of them found it hard to look away and help set up the picnic like they had planned. The contrast in color made you look like a painting.
Satan paused from helping lay down the blanket to watch the wonder unfold on your face. He looked over to his next youngest brother, "Asmo, you helped her pick the outfit for today, didn't you?"
"Only the parts you can see." But those parts were still divine, "She insisted the rest of it be a surprise."
"You did well." He added before going back to helping spread the blanket.
Everyone else nodded in agreement. It was a simple outfit, but it gave them all terrible ideas about what to do with you. How else was a demon supposed to react to seeing such an innocent-looking human other than wanting to corrupt them?
"Can someone set out the food?" Beel wanted to do it himself, but he knew he was likely to eat it before anyone else could enjoy it.
Belphegor looked at him in sympathy, feeling how hungry his twin was in his own stomach, "We need to finish setting up first." He wanted to sleep though. The walk over had been exhausting and it was hitting him the hardest, "You should go check on her." He suggested, since keeping Beel away from the food was the smartest option.
"Huh? Why does he get to be the one to check on her?" Mammon burst into the conversation, "I mean- Ya should leave that kinda stuff to yer big brother. No reason ya gotta go out of yer way."
"Lmao. You're dating her and you still act like a tsun." The third-born couldn't help but laugh at how much of a trope his brother was.
He placed his hands on his hips, "Shad'up. No one understands that otaku talk of yers anyway."
"Then why are you so offended?" Levi mocked, not missing the fact that his brother clearly understood the jab well enough to know it was insulting.
"Enough." Lucifer ended the conversation before their bickering could draw your attention, "Unless one of you wants to play guard between Beel and the food, I think letting him go is the best option."
They looked at each other, knowing neither of them wanted that particular responsibility. Levi turned back to his job dejectedly while Mammon grumbled a "whatever" under his breath.
Belphie gave Beel a sly smile, knowing exactly what he had done. The redhead gave him a grateful nod before looking out to where you were now sitting among the flowers and walking toward you. He found you stroking the petals of the flowers, trying to understand how they felt soft to the touch even though they grew in a harsh environment. He sat beside you, drawing your attention to him instead.
"Oh, Beel." You pulled away from the petals and leaned against his towering frame, "Am I taking too long?"
"No." His gaze drifted down to you, seeing how peaceful your face was looking out across the field, "They're almost done getting everything ready."
You balk at his words, "Done? I didn't even help."
"Well, you looked like you were having fun. None of us wanted to bother you."
"But I should still help." You felt bad that you had left them to do all the work when you were the one that suggested a picnic in the first place.
"No one minds." They loved watching you enjoy yourself so freely. It had quickly become something akin to a hobby to them.
"I mind." It made you feel lazy to not help them set everything up. This was a relationship, so you should contribute to it as much as they did.
He didn't really know how to comment on that without undermining your feelings. It was clear you were upset about being allowed to walk away without contributing anything. You probably shouldn't have assumed they would wait for you to come back to set up, this was their date too, after all.
He couldn't think of anything to say to you, especially with your face as sour as it was. Instead of trying to use words, he reached out for a flower and plucked it from the ground. With a smile in his eyes, he placed it behind your ear.
"Watching you is nice." He gently stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers as he lowered his hand again, "Seeing you happy is the best part of a date."
The heat that rose in your body and up your face felt like it would cook you alive. You buried yourself into his shirt to hide the giddy, embarrassed smile that you were now wearing, "You can't just say stuff like that."
"Why not? Did I say something wrong?" The worry in his voice was saddening.
"Never." You shake your head and sit up ever so slightly so you can place a peck against his cheek, "Do you think they're done?"
His hand moved to his stomach, realizing for the first time since he joined you just how hungry he really was, "I hope so."
"Well then," you raise to standing and brush the dirt and pollen from your dress, "Shall we go back now?"
Nodding once again, he shifts in his spot so he can stand up. However, as he gets to his knees, he stops and looks up at you. His arms open wide And you know exactly what he's thinking about. With a shy smirk, you fall into his arms, sitting awkwardly on his bicep and trying to balance yourself.
Beel places his other hand against your knees to keep you steady as he stands up and lifts you straight into the sky. You giggle widely as you raise higher and higher, seeing how more of the area unfolds before you with height. Now you can see how the sea of colors you were just sitting in weaves together and how far it seems to stretch out.
Your eyes widen in awe, "It's amazing..." You can't really explain how beautiful the meadow is. It's not like the ones in the human realm that look delicate and fair. No. This one looks dangerous, those dew stricken petals reaching out to link each flower to its neighbor.
"You like it?"
"I love it." You couldn't imagine seeing this in the human realm. The flowers were just too unique.
"Whaddya think yer doing over there?"
You both turn to look toward Mammon, who is yelling at you from where the picnic has been fully set up. Clearly, he isn't a fan of being left out from a single intimate moment.
"I think that's our cue." You tell him, looking down but holding on tightly.
"Uhn." He turns on his heels, carefully keeping you perched on his arm and listening to you laugh at the unusual way to travel.
As you near everyone else, you both get a few looks of confusion, some of jealousy, and one from Belphie that lets you know that whatever just happened was all according to his plans. Of course, it was. The youngest brother couldn't go a day without planning something. At least it wasn't nefarious this time.
"I'm glad you both decided to join us." Lucifer said, glance drifting from Beel you, "Do you need help getting down?"
You debate for a moment of you can get down by yourself. You figure Beel would set you down if you asked, but that's not as fun as having to make Lucifer reach up to you for once, "Please?"
Stepping forward, the eldest brother places his hands against your waist and slowly lifts you back to the ground. As your feet touch the dirt below, he notices the flower in your hair, placing a gloved hand under your chin and lifting your head so he can get a better look at it.
"Yes?" You ask, wondering what he could be thinking about.
"Nothing." He bends down at the waist and presses his lips against yours, his tongue quickly assaulting your own and making your head swim before pulling away, "You look beautiful."
The haze is short-lived as he pulls away and you can only admonish him, "Lucifer! This is a group date. None of that." Quick kisses and pecks were one thing, but trying to rile you up was off-limits.
The grin that crosses his face is fully aware of what he did, but uncaring because he got what he wanted, "Of course." Even if you complained, the goal was that he wouldn't be outdone by his younger brother in your eyes. Of course, some of the others saw through him, but the only opinion that mattered on the issue was yours.
Asmo took the opportunity to skip up to you from behind and wrap his arm around your own, "Sit next to me, Darling~" He tugged at you gently to try and lead you to a spot on the blanket.
Of course, he was the first one to actually ask you to sit with them. He had no compunctions over trying to get you to pick him first and foremost. He would respect your boundaries, but he still wanted you as much as everyone else.
"Gladly." You let him guide you to the blanket and sat down where he indicated. That still left your other side open though. You pay the spot next to you and looked up, "Levi? Will you join me?"
His orange eyes sparkled so much that it almost looked like he was going to cry. Why would you ever choose a disgusting otaku like him? That was probably what he was thinking. That was also exactly why you had to explicitly choose him. You loved him as much as the rest of his brothers, but he didn't seem to believe you. Every now and again, he needed a reminder that you had chosen him just as much as anyone else.
He gladly sat on your other side and the rest of the brothers fell into different places around the small banquet. Beel looked uncomfortable as he was forced to only look at the food in front of him. Belphie, ever the good brother, passed him an entire basket of food and told him to start with that while everyone else took the chance to grab from the pile in the middle. That basket lasted about as long as it took everyone to make their first plate.
"We brought wine if you would like." Satan held up the deep red, unopened bottle for you to see.
You looked at him skeptically, "Didn't we learn that I can't handle that stuff already?" That was kind of how this entire mess started in the first place. Not that you regretted it in the long run, even if it was a nightmare to deal with at the time.
He shook his head, "This is from the human realm. At least, I assume you have some tolerance for it." Although, none of the brothers would mind another incident like the one from that night. In retrospect, some of them found the memory endearing and were mildly curious how much further it could go now that you weren't confused about your feelings anymore.
But... this wine wouldn't do that to you, "Please pour a glass." It really was the ideal of a picnic date. Not that anything about this date was traditional, but it was definitely your ideal. There was nothing better than just getting to spend a day with your boyfriends and enjoying each of them. They really did find ways to spoil you and make you so very happy that this was your life now.
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cinnamonbean · 2 years
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So I recently read The Wasp's Nest by @demonslayedher, and as usual, began obsessing. I've been following the author here under my main blog for a while, and it's very easy to add onto or hyperfixate on their ideas. I genuinely can't find many blogs like theirs, but it's really cool; and I want to appreciate that.
Below the cut is going to be a simple collection of thoughts I had upon reading chapter one because,, oh my goodness; I have a lot?? For some reason? And I will probably never be able to use them myself.
Whether or not I make this a mini-series for every chapter or few chapters is. Up for debate. I have a lot going on in my personal life right now, so we'll see. This is just Mocha rambling about a cool fic instead of working on their own fics goodbye.
Please keep in mind I did not read chapter two.
Please read the following with only chapter one in mind. I had to force myself to avoid chapter two to ensure I would finish this post. And while I contemplating that art I wanted to post alongside the icons,, I concluded that would take too long. So. Later.
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• You probably can't see it through the ugly filters but I used the opposite color from Kobayashi-San's hairclip for Mita's eyes. Vice versa for Kobayashi-San's eyes too.
• I know it looks more like green flame but I was actually trying to use water lilies as the motif for Kobayashi-San's eyes! :) I couldn't think of anything cool for Mita's,, so I made it the same flower shape as Koyuki-San's in vain efforts of referencing it to those round-winged butterflies people make? ,,,
• I can't really use butterfly symbolism for the clips. I also improvised on the colors since I really deadass did not know what colors to use. 💀 I didn't use light blue for the border of Kobayashi-San's because they reminded me of the flowers on Makomo's mask,, and I had a Hashira au where she had those colors on her own hairclip,,, I don't mind changing it if it helps the accuracy of the fic! >:)
• Speaking of hair clips,, you gave me a really good headcanon idea for Kanae rereading one of your older posts, but I will probably post it on it's own as a separate post.
• I'm automatically taking everything Mita says with a grain of salt?? Like she seems nice, just. She runs her mouth too much. Is it to cope? Hmm. It'd be interesting to see if Ichijo-Senpai had a larger impact on everyone than we're made aware. Like. Is it really so black and white that Kanao began smiling because of Kanae and Shinobu? Maybe she's just so used to seeing people die because of those other students that she really doesn't think the people she made it past final selection with won't make much of a difference. (I'm salty they were the only five because of plot armor, but that's a story for another day.)
• Mainly because of my personal unrelated headcanons, but I really don't think of Ichijo-Sempai as mean? But if she is,, I can see her contributing to Mita's general moodiness. Bad influences amirite. But also the possibility of her being generally nice and having her parallel one if not both of Mita and Kobayashi-San as we read along makes me weak in the knees.
• I couldn't decide if I liked freckles or facial acne for Mita better, so I gave her both and gave her that emo pale skin. Assholes don't get to have pretty faces I don't make the rules 🙄 (/hj).
• Shinobu, because of your content of her and how she acted in the fic gives me vibes of a practical woman who doesn't care for detailed or pretty looking things. Or believes in doing things simply because you like them. Which makes that scene of her eating with Giyuu even funnier. Like. "You're smiling at your food? D i s g u s t i n g." (/j).
• I'm also. Very sorry. Like VERY SORRY. BECAUSE FOR THE LIFE OF ME I CAN'T DRAW BLACK HAIR IT'S JUST NOT POSSIBLE FOR ME... Ya start with a color you think is close enough to black without being back. Then you add colored accents, put in shading. The lighting. And then, only when it's too late, you realize it. You've given them completely different hair colors. I swear I'm colorblind. (/sarc).
• I was also just too lazy to make the mouths. So they're pitch black and ugly. You're welcome :')
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Here's the icons without filters! I originally wanted to make them edited with like gif thingy backgrounds?? BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW,, and I'm not waiting until chapter ten or worse is posted while I'm trying to figure this stuff out.
Before anyone asks, these are free to use, edit, etc. with credit. But really. I'm already cringing at several things in these icons. Really, where are Mita's ears even. Fjsnfjsjf.
Thank you for reading and have a good... whatever time it is where you are. 🚶‍♀️and ty for reading this if you read all the way through.
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ducktracy · 2 years
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Is there a way to get more comfortable drawing things that are kinda creepy or scary? Like, cartoons tend to have grossout humor or graphic visual gags that lean a bit on the side of being kind of gorey to me. It's my dream to be in the animation industry but I'm totally skeeved out by drawing stuff like that, to the point I dunno if a paycheck would get me to do it :( you seem able to appreciate cartoons in all their forms so I was curious how you got there or if you've always been like that
THIS IS A GREAT QUESTION and i appreciate you asking!! as much as i love funny, weird and grotesque humor, i’m INCREDIBLY squeamish. i’m lucky enough that it doesn’t send me into a breakdown (because i know it can have that effect on certain people which i empathize for), but that’s usually because i’m looking away or covering my ears before anything can happen LOL. can’t do horror or gore, i’m the type to get sick if other people do, and even just today 8 hours later i can’t stop thinking about the rabbits foot one of the cats outside was gnawing on and i got to see all the lovely Rabbit Bits with. it doesn’t necessarily upset me too much, but i’m VERY squeamish and have a really active imagination. i’m also just a very emotional person in general which contributes to that a lot too
IN ANY CASE… when i get tasked with certain gross out scenes i try to turn it into a game. i LOVE rendering things and adding detail to a fault—one of my very first episodes was doing close-up paintings of moldy underwear and chewed up candles. (i’m going to show said underwear and candles so… i guess this is counterintuitive but here’s your warning for minor grossness)
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i got WAY too into it, these boards are super clean and rendered and should NOT be the norm—i draw on the cleaner side to begin with and this is purely me being self indulgent, but please do not render your boards this much unless absolutely necessary, don’t take on more than you have to—but even the moldy underwear (which i just punched up from Fred Osmond’s rough boards) was changed in the final to be less disgusting LOL. but i know when i was working on it i kept thinking “oh i can add these disgusting cracks here the shading makes it pop oh i can add these freckles of green ewwwww that’s disgusting this is great”
obviously that’s not going to work for everyone, especially on the more squeamish side, but thinking of it in terms of a game and like “how can i add to this and make it funnier? how can i make this more extreme?” rather than “oh this is gross i’m drawing gross things” helps a lot. the drive to be funnier usually overwrites my squeamishness is what works in my case
i think knowing that i have to do it eventually does help too, because i can’t turn in an unfinished board with “sorry too squeamish :(“ attached HAHA. there IS definitely that motivation in there, and i like/appreciate the structure that my job gives me in general.
I REALLY DO WISH I HAD A BETTER ANSWER! everyone is different and i know “just turn it into a game” doesn’t help everyone. but i hope you know you’re NOT alone and there are plenty of other squeamish people working in the industry too HAHAHA. i’m lucky that my squeamishness is more of a minor inconvenience than anything, but i do think getting more accustomed to it overtime and the demand of the job do help!
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mk-wizard · 3 years
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Sailor Moon 90s Anime is STILL the best
Hi. I know I am on a Sailor Moon binge here, but after seeing all of Crystal, Eternal and on R (season 2) of the first anime, I want to get this all off of my chest... and before I go further, since these are all animes, I will refer to them as 90s, Crystal and Eternal. And after watching them all, I have to say that the 90s takes the gold medal as the best Sailor Moon anime so far and this is why;
1- It had the best pacing. - While I admit that sometimes, it went too far with the filler, 98% of the time, it worked with the 90s. It took its time to make you get to know the characters for better or for worse, it made you see different sides of them, it gave them a chance to truly develop and be multi-dimensional, and it made you care about them. When a death happened, it felt tragic. When a victory happened, you cheered. And when you saw what side characters did, it mattered. I mean, who can ever forget the contribution 90s Naru Osaka had to the story? And everyone who has seen the 90s anime cannot forget her. More on the character development and getting to know characters later.
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Sure, it wasn’t true to the manga and even the characters had different personalities, but I let that slide by because when Crystal and Eternal did follow the manga to the letter, we didn’t get a chance to digest anything. The only characters who develop are Usagi, Chibi-Usa and the outer guardians, and for the last bunch, it was the bare minimum. Crystal and Eternal were fun rides and I would be lying if I said I didn’t like them, but they were like roller coasters. They gave you a thrill, but fast and been done. The 90s was like a slow scenic ride that gave you surprises, emotionally touched you, made you cry, made you laugh, made you root for the heroes and even at the age of 37 years now, I keep rewatching this series.
2- The art of the 90s was better because it was sketchy, dark and edgier. - I know Sailor Moon doesn’t seem like this on the surface because the heroines are lovely girls in cute costumes, it emphasizes femininity and all things pretty, it has a romantic theme and is all about love, but Sailor Moon is also one of the darkest, grittiest, edgy and violent magical girl animes I have ever seen since Magic Knights Rayearth. Sailor Moon has on screen deaths which were permanent most of the time, on screen stabbings and the drawing of blood, and fights that got so hardcore, that real punches and kicks were thrown. The dark edges, black line art and sharp edges worked with the atmosphere of the story. I mean, look at the difference between the halls Dark Kingdom of the 90s (above) and that of Crystal.
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And if that is not enough to win you over, the characters were much more animated, organic and conveyed more emotion whether they were exaggerated or serious.
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In Crystal, the expressions and body language was very dulled down. Not to mention, very stiff.
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Everything is also too bright and soft which makes the characters look like velvet dolls with too much make up especially with the line art. I will give them props for adding better details, cleaner lines, the glow of magical items, and details in the gems, but everything else is all wrong.
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Eternal was better, but still not quite there. The colours are still way too bright and the characters still look too much like dolls from having line art that is too wispy. And I really do not like how the eyes have this unnatural glow to them. The edgy scenes become lost with all this brightness.
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3- We got to see that there was so much more the characters than just heroes or villains. - Since Usagi is the titular character, let us just talk about her in the 90s since I could go on forever about how much we learned about the characters. In any version of Sailor Moon, Usagi’s role as a Sailor Guardian has always been the core of the story and she does indeed show progress as one. However, the 90s tells us that no matter what, she is still going to be herself too which is just as important and she shows character development as just plain old Usagi too. The manga, Crystal and Eternal which only paint Usagi as not doing anything right except be a Sailor Guardian, but the 90s show her hidden talents and learning new skills. For example, she was bad at cooking at the beginning of the series.
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However, by Sailor Moon R, she gets the hang of it and is able to cook a meal by herself. Yes, she is messy, clumsy, never gets the hang of making cookies and is nowhere near Makoto’s level especially when it comes to presentation, but she is good at cooking food.
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Another hidden talent of Usagi’s is her drawing skills. She isn’t just good at drawing. She’s got talent at it, so in the 90s, Usagi is quite the artist.
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And it is admirable that 90s Usagi is open to trying new things even if she isn’t good at them. She practices, she explores and tries to enlighten herself. Sure, academics, coordination and organization will never be her fortes, but she really does have other and tries to discover more.
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In Crystal and Eternal, she is good at being Sailor Moon, she is a good friend and a good girlfriend, but that is it. She is one dimensional here and she isn’t the only one to painted like that. Everyone is only the obvious and that is all the audience gets.
4- Better character redemption. - I mentioned before that Sailor Moon had grit and was dark, but the 90s also made it more complex and did character redemption right. It was open to the possibility of bad people becoming good. For instance, the Black Moon Clan Specter Sister are unforgettable for being successfully redeemed.
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Yes, I admit that the monster of the day would get killed by the hands of the Sailor Guardians, but they also clearly showed that the monsters were not people or even alive. They were made of energy, clay or sand. When the monster of the day was a possessed innocent, they were saved through exorcism. Very rarely was an actual person ever killed and even when they were, it was either by the hands of another villain, their own hand, self defense or as a last resort. They never used killing as means of dealing with every single bad guy.
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Furthermore, the bridge arc about the Makai Tree that also served as a prologue to Sailor Moon R could be seen as a story about mercy, kindness and love. It stands out as the one time the big bad was actually a misunderstood big good being the Makai Tree herself. And even Ail an An were never bad, but were raised bad. And even then, they changed. This story is unique only to the 90s so far, but it was great and stood out for that reason.
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In Crystal, the heroines will kill a person without a second thought which I am shocked that no one brings up how repetitive and contradictory that is. The pretty warrior of love and justice should by all means protect the Earth, but doing so by killing off the bad guy all time is not love or justice. I also think the caption in this picture sums up how I feel about how the one and only time bad guys were given a chance to be redeemed...
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Eternal was better because the Asteroid Guardians got redeemed and saved. However, even then, I feel like there is still a double standard. They were one of the good guys to begin with and Sailor Guardians. In the 90s, the Amazoness Quartet wasn’t, but were given a chance to change anyway. I find it cool that the Quartet turned out to be Sailors and even better that they will go on to become Chibi-Usa’s team, but mercy is not just for your allies or for your own benefit. Everyone should be given at least one chance to fix their mistakes.
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5- We got to know Mamoru better. - I admit that no matter the incarnation, Tuxedo Mask will never be as powerful as Sailor Moon except when he is King Endymion, but the 90s take on his character made him better even if they did omit his super attack being Tuxedo le Smoking Bomber. What the well dressed masked man lacked in firepower, he made up for in intelligence, insight about the enemy’s weakness, courage and skill. The only times he ever did get overpowered was either by bad luck or because it was intentional because he was taking a hit for Sailor Moon. And even then, he always got back up. He’s a real man like that.
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More importantly, we get to know him as Mamoru too. Even before he confides being an amnesiac to Usagi, we see his struggles with feeling alone in the world from having no memory of his life before a tragic accident which also killed his parents. Now, him being a stern cynical person makes sense because I probably wouldn’t be pleasant to be around either if I lived with that. Once his walls come down, we see that deep down, all he wants is to belong somewhere and have a family. It should also be noted that 90s Mamoru doesn’t love Usagi because he is “destined” to. He loves her because he wants to. Even during that brief period where he broke up with Usagi was an act of love. The thing I also always liked best about 90s Mamoru is that even though he loves Usagi more than life itself, his life doesn’t revolve around her which is a healthy thing and he tries to encourage Usagi to be the same way for her own good. He is studying to be a doctor, he has a job and he even has his own crowd which I think is great.
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In Crystal and Eternal, while I do see an attempt at trying to follow this trend by showing that Usagi and Mamoru were on their way to falling in love even before they got their memories back, I still find he was one note and we never really learn much about him that has nothing to do with Tuxedo Mask, Endymion or anything royal related. Sure, we know that he’s studying to be a doctor and is a genius to an extent too, but that is it.
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I would like to end this by admitting that the 90s was not perfect either, but out of all the takes on the tale of Sailor Moon as of date. Crystal and Eternal were ok, but they just cannot stand up to the quality of the 90s. The only thing I can say I find Crystal did better than the 90s were the costume designs. Specifically, how they let Venus keep her chain belt, Pluto’s key chain belt, Uranus and Neptune’s shorter gloves, Uranus’s sword, Uranus having two earrings, Mercury’s suit is shoulder less which I always found suited her better, and I liked Sailor Moon’s brooch and necklace better in season 1.
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And even then, I should have liked it if Jupiter’s antenna was always on display as it is just something I always found cute in the manga, I liked Mars’ five point star earrings better in the 90s, and I like how in the 90s, each of the Inner Guardians’ sailor stripes were a little different.
Of course, this is all my opinion. I would like to hear which of the animes did Sailor Moon right in your opinion and why. Thanks for reading and stay safe, and have a great day.
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TAG Mini Bang 2021
Hey fam, This is mine and the amazing @katblu42′s contribution to the @tagminibang. Katblu42 wrote the story, of which I love so much, and i made a couple of doodles to go with it.
We both worked really hard on it, hope you enjoy.
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Deep Water
The summer is drawing to an end when an almost-twelve-year-old Virgil is lumped with looking after little bro Gordon for the day. When a simple walk in the woods becomes more than they bargained for, the pair must work together to overcome their fears.
Written by @katblu42
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“Hey, Virgil. Whatcha doin’?” Gordon bounced down the stairs and watched his brother carefully pack his brand-new artist’s set of watercolour pencils, mini easel, and sketchbook into his backpack, using one of his hoodies for padding. “I’m gonna go out on the top track and try out my new pencils. It’s gonna be a really nice day for practicing landscapes. I want to try and capture the way the light filters through the trees and . . .” As Virgil excitedly rambled on about all the things he wanted to draw, Lucy emerged from the kitchen with a lunchbox packed with sandwiches and snacks and two water bottles for Virgil to add to his bag. She ignored the eye-rolling from the younger boy, who obviously didn’t share the enthusiasm for artistic inspiration. Placing a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as she handed him the last of the supplies, Lucy smiled. “Sounds like the two of you are going to see all kinds of wonders today,” she said. Virgil opened his mouth to question, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You’re going to take your brother with you.” “But . . .” was all Virgil managed to squeak out, while Gordon sported a look of surprised incredulity. “It will do you both the world of good to spend some time together, just the two of you.”
Lucy knew these two didn’t always get along, mostly due to Gordon’s talent for finding exactly the right buttons to push to try Virgil’s patience. In fact, Gordon did that with everyone, but it somehow affected Virgil the most potently. Lucy, Jeff, and the other boys had little tolerance for Gordon’s annoying antics, but the fact that Virgil usually had an abundance of patience was exactly why Gordon got under his skin so much. With Virgil, Gordon would keep on pushing, keep needling, insistently nagging until that patience wore thin and caused Virgil to react in frustration. As a result, Lucy had noticed Virgil tending to avoid spending too much time with Gordon. But today she needed to pair them up together. Grandma would be by any minute to pick up Scott, as she was helping him log extra flying hours towards his pilot license while Jeff was away for work. John had already left for the library where they had been running a special summer program in the AV centre focussing on early space exploration because today was the last day he’d be able to see it. “Aw, Mom!” Virgil whined. “If he comes, I won’t get any drawing done.” “Yeah, Mom,” Gordon joined in, wrinkling his nose, “can’t I stay with you?” “Nope!” Lucy ruffled Gordon’s unruly blond locks. “I have errands to run today.” Gordon groaned. He hated being dragged all over town when his mom was running errands, mostly because the entire day was usually spent listening to her tell him he couldn’t run off too far or do anything fun – getting up to mischief, she called it. Lucy knew her day would be difficult enough with a toddler in tow without adding a hyperactive six-and-a-half-year-old to the mix. For a moment, she felt for Virgil. In a way, he had a point. He’d have to keep Gordon occupied, which would take his focus away from his artistic endeavours, but she had faith that the two of them would find a way to make it work. She stood between the two boys and, with a hand on a shoulder of each, pulled them into a hug. “You two go out and have fun.” She placed a kiss on first Virgil’s and then Gordon’s forehead. “Be good, look after each other, and don’t get into any trouble!” She ushered them through the door and watched them head out, turning back to wave goodbye to her from the front gate before continuing westward towards the top track. She would always worry about her boys out there on their own, but they all knew the rules and had repeatedly been warned of the various dangers contained within their little patch of wilderness. Virgil was not inclined to be reckless or break the rules, but the lure of an interesting view could distract him at times. Looking after a younger brother would help keep his attention more focused. It was one of Lucy’s secret weapons. Pairing a big brother with a little one always seemed to make the big brother more inclined to obey the rules and watch for dangers.
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The two boys made quick progress across the open paddock towards the trees, Virgil striding out confidently, Gordon occasionally having to run for a few steps to catch up. Once they reached the track that wound its way through the trees, the pace began to slow. Virgil’s gaze wandered as he walked, noticing in great detail the colours of the foliage and tree bark, the stark contrasts formed by shafts of sunlight filtering between the trees and highlighting this branch or those leaves. He would hear the cry of a bird and look up, searching the treetops to see if he could catch sight of the culprit. Despite the distractions, however, Virgil didn’t stop walking. He had a destination in mind, and he was keen to get there so he could start drawing. Gordon found distractions of his own along the track. He’d hear skittering noises in the dirt and leaf litter beside the track and stop to see if he could spot the creature that had scuttled away. He found spiderwebs woven between the trees and bushes, and noted with interest whether or not the spider was home and if they’d caught anything. He, too, would search the trees and sky for birds that called out their various songs. Unlike Virgil, Gordon stopped often and would have to run to catch up to his bigger brother, usually after Virgil called out to him to hurry up. After falling behind for the fourth time, Gordon decided to run ahead along the track a bit. That way Virgil would have to catch up to him! He stopped short when he came to the fork in the track. An idea struck him, and he jogged back to his brother. “Hey, Virgil?” He had a glint in his eye that the older boy knew well enough to be worried about. “We should go down to the lake!” “No.” “Oh, come on! Why not?” His voice was verging on whiny and his expression close to a pout. “We’re not supposed to go to the lake on our own, it’s –” “We’re not on our own, we have each other!” Gordon didn’t want to give Virgil a chance to argue or talk about possible dangers. “We’re not gonna do anything dangerous or anything. It’s nice by the lake. Besides, you said your pencils were watercolours. Shouldn’t you draw something with water?” “That’s not . . . Uugghh!” Virgil sighed, rolled his eyes, and rubbed a hand through his hair. He knew steering this particular brother away from water was going to be a hard sell, and if he was honest with himself, his little brother was right about the lake being a good place to draw. It would give him an opportunity to practice drawing reflections, which was something he’d been wanting to experiment with. And the view across the lake was pretty spectacular. But swimming in the lake could be dangerous. If they went to the lake, Virgil knew his entire day would be spent watching Gordon in the water. Gordon studied the expression on his brother’s face for some sign of what he was thinking. He had that look of intense concentration he used when he was figuring out how to fix something. Virgil slowed to a stop and looked down at Gordon. “If we go to the lake –” As Virgil spoke, Gordon’s face broke out in a wide gap-toothed grin as he sensed he had won. “I said if! If we go to the lake, you have to promise me you won’t go for a swim. I came here to draw, not play lifeguard.” “Aww! Virge, it’s summer! It’s a great day for a swim.” His smile was gone, and he now had to trot alongside his brother as Virgil began walking again, setting a brisk pace. He was going to have to fight hard to get his way. “Pleeeeease!” No reaction. “What if I promise not to go in any deeper than up to here?” He indicated his waist. Virgil’s eyebrows drew down into somewhat of a scowl, but he slowed his walking pace again. “You have to stay dry above the knees,” he said. “Yes! Okay, I can do that.” Gordon’s big, infectious grin was back, and he literally bounced with happiness and excitement at his victory. “I promise I won’t go in past my knees, and I’ll be good so you can just do your drawings.” Virgil tried to keep his expression serious, but his little brother’s glee was so irresistible he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pretty soon he was grinning too, and they headed down the left fork in the track towards the lake. As they descended the narrow trail, weaving between trees and larger rocks, the hard-packed dirt underfoot gradually giving way to sandy soil, Gordon’s excitement was barely containable. He ran ahead down the track, calling to Virgil to hurry, ran back to his brother urging him to walk quicker, tugging at his hand, gave up, and ran ahead again before he could even see Virgil roll his eyes. The whole process was then repeated. Twice. Soon enough the trees lining the track thinned out, allowing glimpses of dark blue water. The track curved, and suddenly they emerged from the trees onto an expanse of silty sand with the lake spread out before them, rippling and glistening in the sunlight. The dark greens of the trees on the far side of the lake separated dark blue water from pale blue sky on the horizon. Gordon ran straight to the water’s edge, while Virgil took a moment to take in the entire scene. The lake itself didn’t cover a particularly large area, but it was very deep in places. Virgil estimated that it was more than half a mile from side to side, north to south, and possibly as far as three hundred metres to the trees on the other side from where Gordon now stood. The hills to the north funnelled water down into the lake via a network of creeks and streams. The surface of the lake looked relatively calm, but it hid unpredictable undercurrents as the water worked its way to the small stream that trickled away from the natural dam at the lake’s southern tip. There were a few tiny islands dotted throughout the lake, most of them closer to the far side, some large enough to have trees growing on them, others no more than large rocks with their tops protruding from the water. A short walk along the water’s edge northward took Virgil past a small wooden pier with a little dinghy tied to it, gently rocking and bumping with the lazy motion of the water. Beyond that, the flat sand gave way to a series of rocky, sloped banks. Picking his way up over some of the lower rocks, Virgil climbed up onto a large, relatively flat boulder that afforded him a good view and room to set out all his materials. He could see the beach (as Gordon called it) and his brother discarding his shoes and socks so he could explore the shallows and the little boat attached to the pier, with the water stretching away before him. Once he had carefully unpacked his easel and sketchbook and placed his pencils beside him within easy reach, Virgil began to sketch out some rough outlines. It wasn’t long before Gordon popped his head up over the edge of Virgil’s rock platform.
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“Is that all you’ve done so far?” he asked with curious disbelief. “You should use more colours.” “Gordon.” Virgil’s tone was a warning. “Okay, okay,” Gordon said, raising his hands, palms outwards. “I just wondered if it’s lunchtime yet. I’m hungry.” Virgil resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he looked at his younger brother, searching for any signs of mischief and finding none. He realised Gordon was probably right, it was time for lunch. Virgil had been too caught up in what he was doing to notice how long it had been since they’d eaten breakfast. “All right, let’s see what Mom packed for us to eat.” He dug the lunchbox and water bottles out of his backpack while Gordon climbed up onto the rock and sat cross-legged beside him. Neither boy was surprised to find their mom had provided each of them with their favourite sandwich toppings, and they ate hungrily. Gordon would have polished off all the snacks too, but Virgil prudently suggested they should save those for later. They washed the sandwiches down with a hearty helping of water, making sure to save some of that too. When their little picnic was done, Gordon started to scamper back down over the rocks. “You can go back to drawing now,” he delivered a parting shot with that cheeky grin, “I’m gonna go see if I can find any fish.” “Stay out of the water,” Virgil warned. “You just ate.” “Ugh! I’m not stupid, Virgil! And besides, I’m only going in up to my knees, remember!” “I remember. I’ve just gotta make sure you do!” Virgil watched as Gordon started to clamber down the rocks. “Stay where I can see you!” he called after him. “And be careful! The rocks can get slippery.” “I’ll be fine!” Gordon yelled back, and added under his breath, “Spoilsport.” “I heard that!” Virgil didn’t see Gordon poke his tongue out before he ran off along the sand to go and get his feet wet again. He stood in the shallow water, running his hands over the slimy reeds looking for little fish. He spent some time digging his toes into the sand to see what little creatures came darting out into the water as it clouded around his feet. Virgil’s focus was split between the landscape that was rapidly developing on the paper and keeping tabs on Gordon. Every little, excited exclamation had Virgil looking along the beach, wondering what his brother had found. But his attention was inevitably pulled back to his watercolour sketch. Coming out of the water for a while, Gordon picked his way along the sand, gathering a pocketful of stones before finding a spot to stand and skip them across the surface of the lake. He was pretty proud of the one he managed to get to skip eight times before it sank. The clicky slap of the first skipped stone had Virgil’s head turning to watch, making sure his brother was still keeping out of trouble. He wondered who had taught Gordon to skip stones and fondly remembered Scott showing him how it was done. Gordon was actually pretty good at it, and he kept at it for quite a while. After that, Gordon wandered closer to the trees looking for beetles and interesting insects. He even took one or two of them over to show Virgil. He did the same with some of the smooth pebbles he’d found, especially the ones that had pretty colours or unusual patterns. Virgil liked those ones, he could tell. And every time he returned to Virgil up on his rock, while he munched on a snack or took a drink of water, he took a peek at what his brother was drawing. There was one main drawing of the view across the lake that was more and more detailed every time Gordon saw it, but there were some other smaller sketches too. Gordon wasn’t sure if they were like little practice drawings for things that Virgil wanted to add to the main one or if they were something else. It looked like some of those extra sketches included him, some were of the treasures he’d brought to show his brother, and some he couldn’t quite decipher yet. The afternoon sun beat down on them, too high in the sky for any shadows long enough to provide decent shade. Virgil barely noticed, but Gordon felt the heat. He had climbed back down from Virgil’s perch and was now sitting on the end of the little boat dock dangling his feet in the water. He kicked his feet, splashing and watching new ripples form. The water was pleasantly cool against his legs, but his head and shoulders yearned for that same refreshing feeling. He looked out across the lake, longing to jump in and immerse himself in liquid heaven. He was regretting his promise. “Gordon,” Virgil called down to him, “stop splashing around so much. I don’t want you falling in.” In response, Gordon just sighed. A gull squawked nearby, and he watched it wing its way to a large rock protruding from the water, joining other gulls and ibises sunning themselves. It was the closest island to where he sat, and it didn’t look too far to swim to. It was so hot. It would just be a quick swim. “Hey, Virgil,” Gordon called out, twisting his body around to look up at his brother, “how far do you think it is to that big rock out there?” Virgil took a moment to stand up and stretch muscles that he hadn’t really moved in nearly two hours. He looked where Gordon pointed and couldn’t help doing a rough calculation in his head to estimate the distance, but he knew where this question was leading. “Too far,” he answered. “You’re not going to swim to it. No deeper than your knees, remember?” “But, Virge . . .” “No, Gordon! It’s dangerous. We don’t swim out that far when Mom and Dad bring us down here, I’m not letting you go out there alone.” “But I’m a good swimmer, and the water’s really flat and calm, and it’s so hot . . .” “I said no!” Virgil was almost shouting now. Why wasn’t Gordon listening to him? Couldn’t he see how bad an idea this was? “It’s gotta be at least eighty metres out to that rock, and you can’t see the currents at work under the surface or the reeds or the cold spots or how deep it is. It’s not like swimming in the pool in town.” “Eighty metres is easy! I already have my two-hundred-meter freestyle achievement certificate. I’ll be out there and back in no time.” As he spoke, Gordon started removing his T-shirt. “Gordon, don’t!” Virgil’s heart was hammering at his rib cage like it was trying to break free, and he started making his way down the rocks towards the boat dock, knowing he wasn’t going to be quick enough. “Bet I’ll do it in the fastest time ever. Time me, Virgil.” And with a flash of a wicked grin, he turned and dived into the water. Virgil ran across the sand and onto the wooden dock, heart still pounding fit to burst as Gordon swam away. All he could do was stand there and watch. As scared as he was, he couldn’t help being a little bit in awe of his little brother. Even though he was little, he was a good swimmer. From his very first swimming lesson two years ago, he had been very much at home in the water. He learned fast and seemed to have the knack of skimming the surface of the water when he swam – unlike Virgil, who always felt like he was fighting the water, trying to stop it from pulling him down. He didn’t mind admitting that Gordon was a better swimmer than he was, but the little fish had no experience with open water – or getting out of trouble on his own. It wasn’t long before Gordon was halfway to the rock island, and everything seemed to be going fine. Virgil even managed to start to relax a bit. It seemed like he was going to make it out there just fine. His pace had slowed a little, but that was to be expected. Then suddenly something wasn’t right. Gordon had slowed right down, almost to a complete stop, his legs no longer breaking the surface with his kicks. He rolled onto his back and made a couple of awkward backstrokes, then he went under. Just for a millisecond. But it was enough to have Virgil scrambling to get into the dinghy. Gordon tried to shout, but the effort seemed to cause his head to bob under again. Virgil rowed as fast as he could, his head twisted to look over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off his little brother, praying each time he went under that he’d see blond hair break the surface again. Swear words repeated over and over like a mantra with every stroke of the oars. Strong, long strokes propelled the little wooden boat through the water. He fought back panic. He would get there in time. He had to get there in time. He had to save his brother. Gordon seemed to be losing the battle to stay afloat, arms flailing, panicking, bobbing and spluttering. He knew Virgil was trying to get to him, and he was desperate to keep his head above water until he got there, but kicking was difficult and painful. His left leg was not obeying. He’d never experienced a cramp like this before. Virgil finally reached the spot where Gordon had just gone under again. Leaning over the side of the boat, mindful of leaning too far and capsizing, he grabbed a flailing arm with one hand and reached the other into the water to grab a handful of blond hair. He ignored the shock of the cold mere inches below the surface and hauled his brother up far enough for him to gasp for air. He adjusted his grip and dragged Gordon into the boat, where he lay coughing and spluttering, shivering and absolutely terrified. Virgil sat, boat rocking beneath them, breathing hard and equally terrified, watching his brother, grateful for the coughing because at least he knew he was still breathing. “You okay?” Virgil panted out once the coughing had died down a little. “Cramp!” Gordon gasped out in reply, indicating his left leg. “Calf muscle? Here?” Virgil was kneeling with Gordon’s left foot resting on his thigh, fingers gently kneading into his calf. Gordon responded with a nod and a little groan of pain. Virgil spent a few minutes massaging the cramped muscle. He wasn’t sure if Gordon’s tears were from the pain in his leg or fear or relief, but he suddenly felt like he’d do anything to stop them. All he could offer were words of reassurance. Words that comforted both of them. “It’s okay, Gords. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Virgil’s fingers worked methodically, gently, gradually relaxing the muscle, relieving Gordon’s agony, and calming both of them down in the process. Gordon was soon wriggling his leg free of Virgil’s grasp to sit up on the floor of the little rowboat. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, still shivering. “Hold on, Gordon.” Virgil shifted himself back onto the seat and took up the oars. “Let’s get you back to shore and then we can warm you up.” Rowing back to the wooden dock seemed to take so much longer than it had to row out into the lake. Virgil wasn’t sure if this was because there were currents working against him or if he was just a great deal more tired now. Or maybe it was the lack of terrifying urgency driving his actions on the return trip. Either way, he was grateful to make it safely to the dock and get the boat secured. Gordon was adamant he could get out of the boat on his own, but Virgil’s assistance was accepted readily when he found himself unsteady on his feet. Virgil retrieved the T-shirt Gordon had so hastily tossed aside earlier and draped it over his little brother’s back. It didn’t take much convincing for Gordon to remain sitting on the dock in the same knees-huddled-to-chest position he’d adopted in the boat while Virgil raced up to his rock platform to retrieve all his gear. He also made a quick dash across the sand to find Gordon’s discarded shoes before returning. He didn’t like how quiet and still the normally boisterous boy was. The paleness of his skin and the fact he was still shivering – or perhaps trembling – worried him even more. The now damp T-shirt had been pulled on over his head but offered little in the way of warmth. “Hey, Gordon. Arms up,” Virgil instructed, holding his own hoodie ready to slip over the blond head. Gordon did as he was told without comment or complaint, seeming to Virgil a little like some sort of robotic puppet. The hoodie was way too big, but it was soft and thick and most importantly dry. With head and arms now inserted into their correct holes, Virgil knelt in front of Gordon and pulled the hoodie down over his entire tucked-up body. Not even his feet protruded from beneath the hem. He then wrapped his arms around the whole bundle of little brother and rubbed vigorously to generate some heat. “Virgil?” Glossy brown eyes peeked out from beneath the sweater’s hood. The voice was quiet and had a quality to it that felt somehow small and uncertain. “I’m sorry.” The look in his brother’s eyes, more than the words, stung Virgil somewhere deep inside. “What?” Virgil answered. “What for?” “I didn’t listen. You told me not to and I . . .” “That doesn’t matter now.” Virgil’s arms tightened ever so slightly around him, and Gordon rested his head against his big brother’s shoulder. “All I care about right now is making sure you’re okay.” For a moment, the two boys stayed locked in the embrace, Gordon letting the feeling of safety envelop him, Virgil feeling the rise and fall of Gordon’s chest with every breath. He was relieved to find his brother relaxing into an even, steady pattern of deep breaths. There was no sign of any wheezing, and the coughs and splutters seemed long gone. “Come on. Let’s get you home,” Virgil said softly, giving Gordon’s back one final rub before releasing the hug. He slipped his backpack straps over his shoulders, held his hands out for Gordon to take so he could help him onto his feet, then lifted him up into a reverse piggyback hold. Gordon’s arms looped around his neck, and his legs wrapped around his waist without hesitation or protest, and Virgil set off for home at a slow but steady pace. The gentle but constant incline of the path back to the top track gave Virgil quite a workout with the additional weight he carried, but he took it in his stride. Gordon remained so still and quiet, hooded head resting against his left shoulder, Virgil thought he might have fallen asleep. He tried not to jostle his bundle of brother too much as he picked his way up the hill. When he reached the relative flat ground where the lake path rejoined the top track, Virgil took a moment to catch his breath, and Gordon stirred. “Hey, Virgil?” he said quietly. “When we get home . . . we don’t have to tell anyone what happened, do we?” “Gordon, we have to tell Mom. You nearly drowned!” Gordon caught his brother’s gaze and for the first time saw there was fear in those deep brown eyes. It made something in his insides feel fluttery. “But I’m okay,” he pleaded. “You saved me.” “I pulled you out of the water, but . . .” Virgil wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence and sighed. “If you got any water in your lungs, that would be bad. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but sometimes it can make a person have trouble breathing hours after they’ve been rescued from drowning.” “Oh.” The initial response was almost whispered, then Gordon’s features and tone brightened. “But –” “Did you swallow any water?” Virgil cut him off. “Because the water in the lake could make you sick if you did.” Gordon’s brow creased. “No. I don’t think so. Maybe?” Virgil sighed once more, then began walking again. “I don’t want to scare you, Gords, but what happened out there was a big deal.” “I know,” Gordon whimpered, and held on to Virgil a little tighter. “But I’m not scared now. I’m safe. I was afraid. In the water, when I thought . . . when I couldn’t . . . It was scary, but now I’m not scared because you’re here and you saved me.” Virgil remained silent. “Would it be less scary for you if you stay with me until you know I’m not going to get sick or stop breathing?” Gordon whispered. The rhythm of Virgil’s footfalls faltered for a step or two. “I promise I won’t leave your sight until you’re sure I’m okay. Then we don’t have to tell Mom unless I get sick. Okay?” For a moment, Virgil couldn’t say anything. The lump in his throat was too much of an obstacle. He blinked a few times to clear his swimming vision, huffed out a ragged sigh, and hitched his brother a little higher on his hips. “Okay, Little Fish. You got a deal. I won’t tell Mom, and you and I stick together like glue for tonight.” Not long after their deal was struck Virgil’s steady paces brought them out of the trees and into the paddock, with home in sight. It seemed they had beaten Lucy home, as her car wasn’t parked in its usual spot, but John’s bike was neatly leaned on its stand next to the others, and Virgil suspected Scott was already home too.
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He was relieved to finally climb the stairs and deposit Gordon gently on his feet on the front porch. Slipping off his backpack and rolling his shoulders to ease tired muscles, Virgil followed his younger brother through the front door and into the kitchen. He might have known Gordon would gravitate towards food. At least this was a good sign – if Gordon was hungry, then he probably wasn’t feeling any ill effects from swallowing lake water. “Oh, look. It finally happened,” Scott said with a smirk and an elbow to John’s ribs. “One of Virgil’s hoodies grew legs and walked away.” “Ha-ha,” Gordon replied as he grabbed the jug of juice from the fridge. “Seriously, Gordon,” John spoke up from his seat at the kitchen table, where he and Scott had been finishing their afternoon snacks, “what’s with the hoodie? It’s gotta be ninety-six degrees outside.” “He just wanted to prove me wrong,” Virgil chimed in, walking straight to the cupboard and grabbing a couple of glasses. “I told him he would disappear completely inside one of my hoodies.” He noted the suspicious looks but ignored them as he poured juice for himself and Gordon. “How was the space thing at the library?” As John began eagerly explaining in great detail the highlights of the interactive exhibition, Virgil met Scott’s expression of curiosity with his best nothing-to-see-here shrug. He knew the innocent look he tried to project wouldn’t be enough to prevent Scott from seeing straight through the change of subject. Scott’s sapphire-blue eyes had the ability to cut like diamonds, and right at that moment Virgil felt the full weight of their scrutiny. He tried to give a reassuring smile and turn his attention to John’s increasingly fast-paced account of the space exhibit. “Actually, that sounds pretty cool,” Gordon said with an air of surprise and a warm smile at the conclusion of John’s animated description. He drained the dregs of his glass of juice and turned to Virgil. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change clothes.” “I’ll be up in a minute,” Virgil replied. Gordon left the room at a trot and bounded up the stairs. Scott and John were both back to studying Virgil intently. “What?” “Why’s Gordon so attached to you all of a sudden?” Scott asked. “He’s practically asking you for permission to leave the room.” Virgil’s gaze flicked between the blue and the turquoise, and he resisted the urge to squirm. “I don’t know. I guess we just had kind of a good day.” It was the only thing Virgil could think of to say. “You two spent the whole day together and you’re not sick of the sight of each other?” It was John’s turn to question the lack of frustrated bickering that would normally have surfaced between them. Virgil just shrugged, finished his own glass of juice, and picked up his backpack. “I’m gonna go put this stuff away.” He left the room, deliberately not hurrying but desperate to escape from the interrogation he felt was coming. As soon as he reached the top of the stairs, Gordon’s bedroom door opened. He was wearing his clownfish pyjamas, and Virgil couldn’t help but grin. “Virgil?” Gordon packed so much uncertainty into just his name Virgil was a little concerned at what might be coming. “Do you think maybe . . . I mean could we, maybe . . . Do you wanna build a blanket fort with me?” “Actually, I think that’s a pretty great idea.” When Lucy arrived home, wrangling a grizzly Alan who had missed his afternoon nap, and exhausted from a rather frustrating day full of unnecessary delays at every stop, she found Scott and John in the kitchen getting dinner started. Neither had seen the other two boys in a while, so she settled Alan in the living room with his favourite cartoon and headed upstairs to investigate. She found them in Gordon’s and Alan’s room. At least, she found evidence that this was where they had been for some time. Half of the room was obscured by a complex construction created out of pillows, blankets, and assorted bed linen supported by various pieces of furniture and some rather ingeniously rigged clothesline string. “Well, look at you two in here together, thick as thieves!” Lucy said as her head emerged from between two blankets that served as the entrance. “Hi, Mom! We’re building a blanket fort!” Gordon explained excitedly. Virgil rolled his eyes. “She can see that, doofus.” “And it is quite an impressive feat of engineering.” She winked and smiled. “What did you boys get up to on your walk today? Lots of exciting adventures, no doubt.” A look passed between the two. “Nothing,” Gordon blurted out, just as Virgil spoke. “Not much.” Virgil added a shrug and a somewhat apologetic expression. “Just . . . boy stuff.” “Yeah, Mom. Boy stuff,” Gordon repeated emphatically. “We can’t tell you because you’re a girl.” Lucy’s head tilted slightly, an eyebrow raised, and the corners of her mouth and eyes began a slow upward quirk into a smile. She wondered what they were up to, but she was happy the two of them were getting along well. “Hmm. Does this boy stuff include any drawings I’m allowed to see?” If they wouldn’t tell her where they’d been, perhaps she could discern something from Virgil’s sketches. “Can I show you later? Tomorrow maybe?” Virgil squirmed a little under the inquisitive gaze of those soft, honey-coloured eyes. Usually he loved sharing his artworks with Mom. She always praised the bits she thought he’d done well and knew exactly how to suggest little improvements without making it seem like he’d made mistakes. Sometimes it felt like she saw more in his drawings than what he’d put in them. “Okay,” she said, changing tack. “Are you two coming out of there to join the rest of us for dinner?” Another look between the brothers. The plot thickening before her eyes. “Can we come back in here after dinner?” Gordon asked. “Could we, maybe, both sleep in here for tonight?” Virgil followed up quickly. Lucy studied the faces of her two brown-eyed boys. These two were not regular partners in shenanigans. There was something going on here that she was not quite sure she understood just yet, but there didn’t seem to be any harm in what they were asking. “I don’t see why not,” she answered, and was rewarded with two beaming smiles. “Go wash up and you can set the table while I help your brothers finish up in the kitchen.” Dinner for the most part was about as chaotic as usual. Alan was still irritable and played with more of his food than he ate, making a mess of himself and the table in front of him in the process. Scott and John both gave lengthy answers to their mom’s enquiries about how they had spent the day. There were all the usual arguments over who would get the last helpings of this or that as plates and dishes were rapidly emptied, their contents hungrily devoured. Virgil and Gordon managed to talk about the more innocent parts of their day, clinging to descriptions of what plants were flowering, the types of birds they saw, the spiders and beetles and butterflies, rather than any specific mention of the lake. As the scrape of knives and forks on plates finally died down, Lucy began clearing serving dishes off the table. “How about tomorrow we all have a day at the pool?” Standing behind her water-baby as she spoke, she gave his hair a ruffle. John and Scott were both quick to answer with excited affirmatives, Alan enthusiastically exclaimed “Swim!”, but she didn’t see the panicked look that flashed across Gordon’s face as he looked across the table at Virgil. “That sounds great, Mom,” was Virgil’s reply as he kept his eyes firmly on Gordon, trying to relay a sense of calm reassurance that he didn’t really feel. If anyone noticed Gordon’s lack of enthusiasm at the suggestion, no one made mention of it. Perhaps his reaction was lost in the flurry of activity as the table was cleared and Alan was escorted upstairs for his bath. Virgil did notice an odd expression cross Scott’s face as he watched Gordon begin loading dirty cutlery into the dishwasher, but he said nothing before leaving the kitchen. John and Scott had helped cook dinner, so Virgil and Gordon were left to load the dishwasher and tidy the kitchen. “Gordon?” Virgil caught his little brother’s attention with a gentle flick of a tea towel, and a sullen expression was his reply. “Don’t you want to go to the pool tomorrow?” Gordon shrugged. Virgil kept his voice low, not wanting anyone to hear the conversation. “You always get excited about going to the pool. You’ve been begging Mom to take us every day for the entire summer. People will ask questions if you suddenly don’t want to go.” The look in Gordon’s eyes was a complicated mixture of fear, sadness, and uncertainty that had Virgil once again wanting to do anything he could to take away the pain. He was about to say something more when he heard John’s voice carry through from the living room and thought better of it. The discussion wasn’t over, but it would have to wait. The rest of their kitchen duty was completed in awkward silence. Chores done, they headed upstairs, back to their blanket fort. They had barely begun to settle into the pile of pillows and cushions when a small hand, followed by a headful of slightly damp blond hair, poked through from beneath a blanket wall. Bright blue eyes sparkled as a giggle escaped through a cheeky grin. “Peek-a-boo!” Alan exclaimed and wriggled his way into the enclosure. “Alan!?” Lucy parted the fort’s entrance with her arms so the blankets draped like a stage curtain. As her eyes came to rest on her littlest, a wave of relief was reflected in her fond smile.  “Say good night to your brothers and I’ll read you a story.” Liberal good-night cuddles were dished out to both big brothers before Lucy ushered Alan out so she could bundle him into bed. “You two – shower or bath, teeth brushing – go!” she instructed. By the time Virgil and Gordon had washed and brushed and were attired for bed (again in Gordon’s case), Alan was asleep, the bedroom was illuminated only by Alan’s star projecting night light, and their mom was holding her finger up to her lips. “Shh. Try not to wake your little brother,” she whispered. She gave each of them a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stay up all night!” Virgil and Gordon were soon alone and comfortably secure in their plush fortress. Their flashlights had been propped between pillows and furniture so they provided a soft glow amid the cosy gloom. “Talk to me, Fish,” Virgil said softly. “You’ve been so quiet since dinner. Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” Gordon’s slumped posture added to Virgil’s impression that his brother looked pretty miserable. “It’s just . . .” A huge sigh escaped his tiny frame. “You’re worried about tomorrow?” Virgil finished for him. “Do you think I could tell Mom I have to do some reading for school or something?” Virgil’s eyes widened and his heart dropped into his stomach. His little brother might not be physically sick or injured, but he was not okay. “You know that’s not gonna work, Gordon. You’ve been pestering her all summer to take you to the pool. If you suddenly don’t want to go, she’s going to be super suspicious. And nobody will believe that you would ditch the pool in favour of schoolwork. Especially in summer!” “I know.” Another sigh. A long silence. “It’s just, when Mom said we’d all go to the pool tomorrow I . . . Normally I’d be really excited, but this time I kind of got scared.” “What are you scared of?” Gordon thought Virgil’s question was a pretty stupid one considering what had happened at the lake, and his scowling glare communicated as much. “I mean, what exactly scares you about going to the pool? Are you afraid you might get into trouble like you did in the lake?” Gordon’s expression turned more quizzical as he considered what Virgil was trying to say. “Because the pool is going to be very different from the lake. The water is clear. You can always see the bottom. The temperature is controlled and kept fairly warm. There’s a lifeguard on duty all the time keeping everyone safe, and we’ll all be there with you. You won’t be on your own, far from shore.” “I guess.” “Gordon, you love the water. You always have, even when you were tiny. You’re always happiest when you’re in the water – even if it’s just the bath or splashing in puddles.” “Not anymore.” “You have to get back on the horse,” Virgil said absently, almost to himself. “What? What horse? What does that have to do with the pool?” “It’s a figure of speech. Something Grandpa says. If you fall off the horse, you’ve gotta get right back on. You can’t let one bad experience make you scared forever, and the sooner you get back up on the horse after falling, the easier it is to ride again.” Gordon looked uncertain. “So, you’re saying that I have to go to the pool tomorrow and get back in the water or else I might be scared of swimming forever?” “I’m saying you have to go to the pool tomorrow because swimming makes you happy. You’re good at it, and you can’t let today stop you from doing something that makes you light up like Fourth of July fireworks and grin like the Cheshire Cat.” There was another long silence. Gordon scooted a little closer to his big brother and rested his head against Virgil’s shoulder. “Will you stay with me tomorrow? At the pool?” Virgil wriggled his arm under his brother and tugged him closer. “For as long as you need me to,” he affirmed. “We’ll start off in the shallow end. Mess around for a while, just getting wet, splashing about. Pretty soon you’ll be swimming like a fish and I won’t be able to keep up. But I promise I’ll stay close and watch out for you, okay?” “Okay.” Despite how tired he sounded, there was a brightness to Gordon’s voice that caused a wave of relief to sweep over Virgil. The day’s exploits had exhausted the two boys. Their little nest was cosy and warm, and the close contact between them helped relax them both as they quickly drifted off to sleep. But Virgil’s usually sound sleep was disturbed by unpleasant dreams. Twice he woke suddenly, heart pounding and breathing hard, certain that something terrible had happened and with an unshakable need to check on Gordon, only to find him safely asleep beside him. He lay awake after each nightmare, watching the even rise and fall of his brother’s chest, noticing every little twitch and murmur made as he slept. He had a feeling it would be a while before he could completely shake these nightmares, but it was comforting to think that Gordon had been spared the same kind of disruption through the night.
*** Morning dawned bright and warm, and despite the duvet cover preventing much sunlight penetrating the sanctuary of the fort, Gordon was awake with the dawn chorus. He tried to let his brother sleep, happy to listen to the soft snores and try not to giggle, but he quickly became impatient. Virgil woke to gentle but insistent poking to the ribs and the repeated whispering of his name. When he peeled his eyes open, he was greeted with brown eyes mere inches in front of his own and a beaming smile. “We’re going to the pool today, Virgil,” Gordon whispered with a hint of excitement. “You have to get up.” “Okay, okay,” Virgil managed to somewhat grunt as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Then he registered the expression on his little brother’s face, the gleam in the eyes and the fact that the smile still hadn’t faltered, and a smile of his own spread from the depths of his heart and across his face. The mixture of nerves and eagerness thrumming through Gordon all morning was enough to give the rest of the family the impression he was full of barely contained excitement fitting for the day of a visit to the pool. He repeatedly asked when they would be leaving and was repeatedly told they would head out after lunch. He offered to pack everyone’s towels and Alan’s floaties into a bag ready for later, and he fidgeted and bounced his way through to lunchtime. After lunch, as promised, Lucy piled all the boys into the family car and drove them to the public pool. She paid their admission, and they all tumbled through the turnstile. As usual, Scott, who had never grown out of wanting to go everywhere at top speed, and Gordon raced away to find them a spot on the grass where bags and towels could be unceremoniously dumped before they hit the water. By the time Virgil and John joined them, T-shirts had already been discarded and comments about the fate of the last person into the water were being bandied about. When Lucy was finally able to set down her load of Alan and the bagful of necessities required for their day out, her four oldest boys were already racing towards the Olympic-sized pool. Scott first, John not far behind, and Gordon practically dragging Virgil by the hand.
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Lucy kept an eye on her boys happily splashing about with each other in the shallow end of the pool while she got herself and Alan stripped down to their bathing suits and slid Alan’s floaties on over his head and arms. They had started a game of Chicken Fight by the time she slid herself into the water and lifted Alan down into her arms. John, sitting on Scott’s shoulders and Gordon atop Virgil’s, were locked in grappling combat. Scott and John had the advantage of both height and reach, and it was not long before Gordon toppled into the water. A rematch produced the same result in short order, and Gordon exacted revenge by distracting Scott with an underwater pantsing, causing him to break his hold on John, who overbalanced and slid from Scott’s shoulders into the pool. Lucy and Alan laughed along with the others as Scott protested foul play. Handstand competitions and a game of Freeze Tag followed. Lucy took Alan to the toddler pool where he could splash about more freely, instructing the older boys to behave and try not to bother other pool users too much while she was gone. Virgil was pleased to see that, just as he’d predicted, Gordon was happily swimming rings around them all as they played. He’d stuck close to Virgil at first, but after the Chicken Fights, he was swimming farther and faster in his efforts to escape being tagged and spending longer underwater with every passing minute. It seemed he had slipped right back into his home environment without any lasting dramas. As the afternoon shadows grew long, one by one Lucy’s boys returned to their spot on the grass. She and Alan had grown tired of the water first, and Alan had even had a short sleep amongst the pile of towels as they waited for the others to tire themselves out. Scott was first of the older boys to tire of swimming and return to towel off and dress in dry clothes, with John quick to follow. Lucy was a little surprised at how long Virgil lasted in the water until she spotted him sitting on the edge of the pool with just his feet and lower legs in the water watching Gordon as he shot back and forth across the free-play area, dodging strangers. She gave a shrill two-finger whistle. Virgil, recognising the signal, turned his head to look back at her, and she beckoned with her hand to indicate it was time to go. It seemed to take a while to convince Gordon to get out of the pool, but Lucy was not surprised. The car ride home was a fairly quiet one, the boys having spent a great deal of energy over the course of the afternoon. They brightened at the suggestion of ordering pizza for dinner when they got home, and there was a brief buzz of conversation when she mentioned their father would be home by the weekend. He had only been away for two weeks, but the older boys had never really grown out of getting excited by his return. This latest trip wasn’t as far away as Mars or even the moon, but the prospect of having Dad home again still triggered that same feeling of welcoming someone who had been long absent. He may not visit space for work any longer, and his absences could be measured in days instead of months or years, but it was always great to have him home again. “He already has big plans for this year’s Last Day of Summer,” Lucy mentioned with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “It’s only ten days away now!” While Scott and John speculated on what their dad might have in store for the annual family day at the lake on the last weekend before they went back to school, Virgil felt a small hand slip inside his and squeeze. He looked to his left at Gordon staring silently out the car window and gave a slight hand squeeze of his own in reply. While today had helped, it was obvious his little brother was still harbouring some fear of returning to the lake. There was no chance for Virgil to talk one-on-one with Gordon when they got home from the pool. As was fairly normal in the Tracy household, there always seemed to be someone else around or something that needed doing, and before he knew it, Gordon was already tucked in bed and reading a bedtime story with Mom. Virgil took a little longer than normal in the shower, needing the time alone with his thoughts. If Gordon acted anything less than excited about going to the lake for Last Day of Summer, it wouldn’t be long before their little secret would come to light. He had to find a way to get Gordon’s confidence back, but he was starting to wonder if he could manage on his own. With something like this, he would normally talk things out with Scott. It felt wrong to be hiding something from him and even more wrong to be hiding things from Mom. He was beginning to wonder whether he should just let the cat out of the bag and tell the truth, but he really didn’t want to let his little brother down either. Unable to face revealing how close he’d come to letting his brother drown, Virgil ended up avoiding any chance of conversation for the evening and shut himself away in his room until it was time for bed. John was in and out of the shared bedroom as he began preparing to turn in for the night, but it was not unusual for the two of them to quietly do their own thing without really exchanging words. When Lucy popped her head inside the door to check on her two quietest boys and say good night, Virgil tried his best to act like everything was normal. Her gaze fell heavily on him for a moment, and he had to fight the urge to tell her everything about the day at the lake and ask her advice. “Don’t stay up too late, boys,” she playfully warned them. “Lights out by 9:30 please, Virgil, and John, no more stargazing after lights out!” “Okay, Mom,” they both answered automatically and in chorus. “Good night.” It took a while for Virgil to fall asleep that night, mind whirling with the thought of his little brother being afraid of something that had always been a source of such joy. There had to be a way to fix it – every problem had a solution, you just had to find it, that’s what Dad would say. As tired as he was, his mind kept trying to focus on finding that solution before drifting away into a sleepy fog. Gordon didn’t know exactly what time it was, but he knew it was very late. The house was quiet. The room wasn’t dark – Alan’s night-light saw to that – but he couldn’t hear any voices, any indication of anyone moving around downstairs or in the bathrooms and bedrooms. Everyone must be asleep. He had startled awake, sitting bolt upright, breathless, heart pounding, eyes prickling with oncoming tears and really wishing he wasn’t so alone. He’d been dreaming about the lake, and now he didn’t want to go back to sleep. Slipping silently from his bed, he tiptoed across the floor, careful not to disturb Alan, and crept out into the hall. He hesitated for a moment. Normally he would head for his parents’ room, but Mom would ask what the dream was about, and he didn’t want to tell her about swimming in the lake. He didn’t want to get in trouble – or get Virgil into trouble. Gordon changed direction and headed for Virgil’s and John’s room. Being very careful to open the door without a sound and close it just as silently behind him, Gordon stood in the pitch-dark bedroom for a moment and let his eyes adjust. He couldn’t understand why his bigger brothers liked it so dark, he found it a bit creepy, but he couldn’t turn on the light and risk waking John. It wasn’t long before he could make out the shape of Virgil’s bed amongst the gloom, and he stealthily padded across the carpet to stand beside his sleeping brother. Now that he was here, he wasn’t really sure how to wake him or whether he should. He stood twisting the fingers of both hands around each other, close to tears again. “Virgil?” he whispered, barely above a breath. No response. “Virge?” This time a little louder, a little more desperate, a little more whiney and accompanied by a sniff. He tried tapping Virgil’s shoulder a few times, but his brother didn’t budge from where he lay curled on his side, facing the wall. In the end, not knowing what else to do, Gordon climbed across the bottom of the bed and squeezed his way past Virgil’s knees, wriggled himself under the covers and Virgil’s arm, and curled himself into the space between his brother and the wall. It was around three a.m. when Virgil woke to find he wasn’t alone in the bed. He didn’t know how or when Gordon had come to be there, but he could hear him softly whimpering and feel him shaking with the occasional sob. “Gordon,” he whispered softly, “are you okay?” He tugged his brother a little tighter to him, feeling him struggle to get the sobbing under control and even out his breathing. “Had a bad dream,” came the ever-so-quiet response. Virgil eased his grip and shuffled over on the bed, allowing Gordon to roll over and face him, but he kept his hand resting against his brother’s back. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and the quiet darkness seemed both comforting and ominous at the same time. Gordon heaved a deep breath in and let it out in a sigh before breaking the silence. He kept his voice low, but once he started, the words tumbled out in a torrent. “I can’t go back to the lake for Last Day of Summer, Virgil. I don’t want to go back in the water and everyone will know that’s not normal and want to know why and I don’t want them to know what I did and –” “Shh,” Virgil soothed, rubbing Gordon’s back as he spoke. “We’ll work something out together. I promise.” “You mean so we don’t have to go?” “No, I mean so you won’t be afraid anymore. We have to go. It’s tradition. And I think we both have to go back to the lake and confront our fears.” “You’re scared too? Wait, what are you scared of?” It was Virgil’s turn to let out a sigh. “Gordon, as annoying as you sometimes are, you are my little brother, and if anything happened to you – anything really bad, I mean – I’d be . . .” Another sigh. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. And I guess I’m scared of what might have happened. I keep having bad dreams where I couldn’t save you.” Gordon was suddenly wrapped around him like an octopus, his skinny little arms squeezing tight around Virgil like he was never going to let go and legs twining their way between bedding and body to latch on too. Despite feeling a little bit trapped within the many-limbed embrace, Virgil felt oddly comforted by it. “You don’t have to hold so tight, little octopus. I’m not going anywhere,” Virgil whispered into blond hair. “I’m not an octopus,” came the muffled reply, buried somewhere in Virgil’s neck, “I’m a squid.” “Okay then, Squid. How about we try and get some sleep and work this out tomorrow?” Gordon’s hold on his brother relaxed enough for them both to get a little more comfortable in the bed, but it was clear he wasn’t letting go. Virgil managed to get one arm disentangled enough to trace his hand back and forth across Gordon’s back, helping to lull him to sleep. Slumber quickly claimed the older brother soon after.
*** Morning crept up on them, dawning overcast and gloomy, despite being summer warm. As a result, Gordon slept later than he normally would and was woken by John’s quiet movements as he rolled out of the bed on the other side of the room and shuffled towards the bathroom. If John noticed the interloper in Virgil’s bed, he didn’t say anything, so Gordon took the opportunity to unceremoniously climb over his brother and hightail it back to his own room. Virgil woke with a start after yet another nightmare. Sitting up and trying to reacquaint himself with reality, he realised Gordon was no longer with him, and his heart rate ratcheted up a few more notches in brief panic. Catching sight of the clock and taking a few slow, deep breaths, Virgil managed to convince himself that everything was fine, Gordon had obviously just woken up earlier and was more than likely perfectly okay. But he needed to check. He tumbled out of bed and, after a brief detour to the bathroom, stumbled his way down the corridor in search of Gordon. Finding the tiny two’s bedroom deserted, he headed downstairs and found his target in the living room. Virgil stood in the doorway watching Gordon playing with Alan for a few minutes. Seeing his goofball brother being his normal, animated self and hearing the shrieks and giggles his antics prompted from Alan were enough to reassure him that yes, Gordon was just fine. Sometime after Virgil had found himself some breakfast and begun to consider himself properly awake, John found him sitting at the piano, absently staring out the window. John didn’t recall hearing Virgil play any practice exercises, and Virgil’s brow was furrowed in deep concentration, so John concluded that he was there more for the familiarity than the urge to play music. He did this sometimes – sat there just thinking, wheels turning, gears shifting, working something out in his head – and John always found it interesting to watch the thought process play out through Virgil’s expressions. But the expression wasn’t changing. “Virgil?” John prompted with some concern. “You okay?” With a jolt, Virgil tore his eyes away from the view he wasn’t really seeing out the window and focussed them on John. “Yeah.” Virgil sighed. “I just have something I need to do, something that needs fixing, and I don’t know how to do it.” “Look it up,” John answered with a shrug. “That’s what I’d do. There’s probably a book about it somewhere or a repair manual or instructional video. If I want to know how something works or how to do something, I start with research.” With that, John walked away, leaving Virgil to ponder how to research fixing a fear of swimming in a lake. And then it hit him. Research was the answer, he just had to look up the right thing – not how to fix the fear, but all the things there were to be afraid of. The more information you know about the thing you’re afraid of, the less scary it becomes. So, all he had to do was look up everything that could cause someone to get into trouble swimming in a lake – and maybe rivers, streams, and oceans too – and learn everything about them. If he knew how to spot the dangers or how to prevent them and how to get out of trouble, then maybe Gordon wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Virgil set off at a run to go and find Gordon. At first, Gordon wasn’t sure about this idea of Virgil’s. Sitting in front of a holoscreen looking up information sounded a lot like homework. But Virgil was insistent that they at least give it a try. After all, it couldn’t hurt to know more about different waterways. “Okay, so where do we start?” Gordon asked as they settled themselves at the big desk in the corner of the living room. “Well, what scares you most when you think about going swimming in the lake?” “Getting another cramp.” Gordon’s reply was quiet, and suddenly Virgil hated himself for making his little brother revisit that moment when everything had gone wrong. He put his hand on Gordon’s shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. “Then let’s start there. We can find out what causes cramps when you swim and learn how to prevent them or how to manage them.” Virgil found a great deal of information on muscle cramps related to swimmers, which he quickly became quite absorbed in. He had to remind himself to stick to the sites with simple wording and steer clear of the ones that crossed too far into medical jargon territory. The boys learned the importance of warming up before swimming, being careful not to overexert the muscles, and staying hydrated. They also found that cold water could increase the chance of cramping. Virgil physically shivered at the memory of plunging his arm into deceptively cold water to grab at one of the only parts of his little brother he could still see. They researched swimming in cold water, what caused cold spots in lakes and rivers and whether you could spot them, and ways you could avoid them or deal with them. They learned about different types of currents – ones you could see, and ones you wouldn’t know about until you felt them. Submerged objects, reeds and seaweed, rocks and tree roots . . . “What are you guys doing?” Scott startled them so badly Virgil jumped and Gordon squeaked. “Researching water safety.” Virgil decided honesty was the best way to go . . . to a point. “It’s for Rescue Scouts.” “But we don’t go back to Rescue Scouts until a week after school goes back.” Scott eyed both brothers suspiciously. “We know, but there’s no harm in getting in early, and Gordon really wants his Water Safety badge.” Virgil had to resist the urge to squirm under the scrutiny of his big brother’s gaze as Scott remained silent for what seemed like a whole minute. “Well, it’s time for lunch,” Scott finally said before turning his back on them and heading for the kitchen. Gordon grinned up at Virgil, who huffed out a long exhale in relief. He didn’t think Scott completely believed the Rescue Scout story, but it seemed as though they would be able to continue their research unquestioned. In fact, no one questioned the time these two spent together in snatches of an hour or two here and there over a couple of days, continuing to search out information on the best ways to stay safe in just about any body of water. Gordon had even made a scrapbook of notes and pictures so he could keep track of all the things they’d learned. Excuses aside, when Rescue Scouts resumed after the summer break, Gordon would already be well on his way to earning his Water Safety badge in earnest. As promised, Jeff was back home by the time the boys awoke on Saturday morning, and he began dropping hints about his plans for the best Last Day of Summer yet. It was to be bigger and better than ever before because, for the first time since they began making the end-of-summer vacation a celebration, it coincided with Virgil’s birthday. The first hints encouraged the boys to check their tents and sleeping bags. It wouldn’t just be a day out with a picnic lunch this year, it would be an overnight campout. There was a promise of campfire tales and s’mores and a special surprise that required the night sky as a backdrop. There were hints about guests that prompted a whole day of guessing who might be joining them at the lake. Grandma and Grandpa were the first confirmed additions to the guest list, along with “Uncle” Lee and a mysterious extra guest from England and his daughter, who was apparently around Virgil’s and John’s age. Amidst all the building excitement about the big event at the end of the week, signs of Gordon’s nervousness about returning to the lake were easily missed by the rest of the family. Only Virgil saw the signs – the slight frown at Scott’s mention that they’d all need to remember to bring their swimmers and towels, the look of horror at John wondering if he’d see more stars if he rowed out into the lake after dark. Virgil decided he’d have to take Gordon back to the lake before the weekend. They needed to return to the scene of the crime. Gordon, having come to much the same conclusion in his own way, approached Virgil after breakfast on the Wednesday. The day was clear and bright, much like it had been on the morning of that fateful day little more than a week before. It seemed like a good day to go back and face the monster that the lake had become. “Virgil,” Gordon said quietly, despite there being no one else in the living room at the time, “can we go back to the lake today? Can you take me?” “Today seems like a good day to me,” Virgil answered with a gentle smile. “We’ll have to tell Dad we’re going out for most of the day.” Now that Jeff was back from his trip and working from the home office, Lucy was spending more time at work. The boys were expected to look after each other and only interrupt their father if it was important, but Jeff would check up on them all throughout the day. “Do we have to say where we’re going?” Gordon twined his fingertips around each other, raising his eyes to meet Virgil’s from a head trying to look down at the floor. “We’ll tell him we’re going back to the place we visited last week to finish the drawing,” Virgil suggested. “It’s not exactly a lie. We are going back to the same place.” The knock on Jeff’s office door was tentative but loud enough that he heard it over the voice of the colleague on the other end of the video call. He muted his audio to tell his visitor to wait a moment before unmuting and bringing the phone conversation to a conclusion. “Come in,” he finally called towards the closed door. He was a little surprised by the request for this particular pair to spend a day out together on their own, but he remembered Lucy mentioning something about these two having been out on the top track the week before. He gave them permission to go provided they tell Scott and John where they were going and promise to be back by five. “Take something to eat and plenty of water, Virgil,” he reminded the older boy, “and look after your brother.” “I will, Dad.” Virgil gave a solemn nod, and the two boys slipped back out of the office, closing the door behind them. Bag packed with sandwiches and water bottles, art supplies for the sake of appearances, and towels, the boys were soon striding out across the paddock towards the top track. This time there were no lingering looks at the scenery as they walked – the birds, spiders, and bugs were largely ignored. Unlike the last time they had set out together, Virgil had no desire to hurry, and he let his younger brother set the pace. He noted with a small amount of pride the purposeful strides, the determination in the set of squared shoulders, and the fire in amber eyes as Gordon focused his energy on reaching their destination so he could do what needed to be done. Gordon’s determined march stuttered to a somewhat abrupt halt when they rounded the last curve and stepped onto the silty sand of the lake’s beach. With his eyes fixed on the water, shoulders drooping, it seemed Gordon’s fire had died. Without a word, Virgil placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, the simple gesture having the desired effect – lending the younger boy enough resolve to steel himself once again, lengthen his spine, and straighten his shoulders. Virgil steered them over to a patch of sand where he could spread out a towel for them to sit on. Shoes were shed in preparation for the inevitable trip to the water’s edge, but the boys remained seated. “What do you see out there?” Virgil asked. “It’s the same. Calm. Flat. But it’s different from last time too.” Virgil waited for a moment before trying again, wanting Gordon to see past the feeling of fear. “Remember what we learned about studying the ripples?” he prompted. “Is it really flat and calm?” There was silence as Gordon’s gaze focused intently on the expanse of blue stretching before them. The embers of the fire that had previously lit his eyes seemed to ignite anew as he studied the surface, looking for telltale signs. “There are reeds just under the surface over there,” he said, pointing a little to their left, “and the ripples over here are different to that bit farther out where it looks really smooth.” Virgil could see Gordon’s confidence growing as he gestured to various parts of the lake, telling his big brother what the differences in the rippled and smooth areas were likely to mean in terms of what was going on beneath the surface. Pretty soon they were on their feet and striding into the shallows to test the waters. Gordon entered the water at a slow walk, which Virgil thought was through caution or trepidation at first, but then Gordon gently trailed fingertips through the reeds and beckoned his big brother over. “Virgil, come look,” he called, looking up at him with a grin. “There are fish that feed in the reeds.” The next half hour was spent following Gordon through the shallows exploring the aquatic life found therein. As the younger boy got more caught up in watching the fish, finding different types of reeds, discovering eels, and excitedly pondering all manner of life in the depths of the lake, they wandered deeper into the water. Virgil followed and listened, answering questions as best he could when asked, smiling fondly all the while. The Squid was in his element. “Hey Gordon,” Virgil said as he playfully splashed a well-aimed hand scoop of water into the side of his little brother’s head. “You realise you’re getting your shirt wet, right?” Gordon looked down at the water that was now up to the middle of his chest and back up at his brother with a grin. “Oops.” They briefly returned to the little beach, shed their shirts, and laid them down in the sun to dry. “You know, when we come back this weekend, we’ll mostly be swimming out here where we just were.” Virgil nodded his head back towards the little patch of lake they’d just explored. “We could go a little deeper, actually lift our feet off the bottom and swim for a while. This is the only part of the lake any of us have ever really swum in before.” Gordon’s eyes sparkled with light reflecting off the water as he pondered Virgil’s words for a moment. Mom and Dad had always suggested the boys shouldn’t swim out past where they could touch the bottom and definitely never past the end of the wooden pier. Looking at the pier and the dinghy tied securely to its mooring drew his eye to the rock island beyond, tantalisingly close, yet so terrifyingly far. Virgil watched his squid brother scanning the water, casting his gaze over the safe and familiar. He saw the moment the line was crossed and thoughts turned to the challenge just that little farther afield. Once again, he placed a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, hoping to redirect his thoughts. “Why don’t we just go back in, swim around for a while, have some fun where we know it’s safe?” “Yeah, okay,” Gordon agreed, a little half-heartedly. Virgil took his brother by the hand, and by the time they’d taken two steps, they were running towards the water. He only let go once they were in deep enough that a tug of the hand lifted Gordon’s feet off the bottom and propelled him a short distance through the water. He received a splash to the face for his efforts, but his little brother was smiling and treading water. In no time at all, Gordon was literally swimming rings around his big brother, splashing at him and darting away, taunting him, daring him to swim after him. It was hunger that drove them out of the water and back onto the dry sand sometime later. PB&J sandwiches were retrieved from the backpack and devoured. The late summer sun warmed their shoulders as they sat in content silence, listening to the lapping of the water and the cries of the birds. Virgil would have been happy to remain there soaking it all in, but Gordon soon became restless, his gaze drifting back to where water birds were drying their outstretched wings. “Virgil, I wanna swim to the rock.” The fire was back in Gordon’s eyes. Virgil studied him for a moment, seeing that same determination that had driven the march to the lake. He wasn’t asking for permission, he was making a statement. It was what he’d come here to do – the demon he needed to conquer. Virgil wasn’t feeling anywhere near as courageous as his little brother looked at that moment. “Gordon . . .” “I need to do it, Virgil.” He turned his head, those glowing embers burning straight into his big brother’s wide brown eyes. “But I need you.” “I can’t . . .” “Use the boat. I’ll swim, you row. If I get into trouble, you’ll be right there.” Virgil had to look away. The intensity in those eyes, the body language, the strength of will in his little brother were too much. But it was the faith Gordon was placing in him that was twisting his gut. He caught sight of the rock island, out there beyond the boat docked at the pier. He was suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat thumping just a little too hard and a little too fast. Gordon needed this – needed him to do this with him. He couldn’t let the Squid down. “Okay,” he agreed with a sigh. He had expected a look of triumph, a smile, a victory dance . . . something. Anything but the simple nod and determined knitting of Gordon’s brow that he received in reply. The younger boy then grabbed his water bottle and took a long draught. “Staying hydrated helps stop you getting cramps, right?” Gordon asked. Virgil nodded. “And I should do some warmup stretches before I swim out there.” “Right again.” Virgil was gladdened by the amount of thought and preparation Gordon was putting into the task ahead of him this time. “And you’ll stay close in the boat?” There it was, the uncertainty just below that confident façade. “Right beside you all the way, little brother.” Virgil tried to school his expression into one of reassurance, but he wasn’t sure he managed it. They made their way across the sand and onto the wooden planks of the pier, then stood studying the expanse of water for a moment, watching the ripples and trying to read currents. Looking for dangers. At last Virgil could put it off no longer. Gordon was warmed up and ready to go, they had assessed the risks and had plans in mind for just about any eventuality. It was time to untie the boat and take up the oars. Sitting in the gently rocking dinghy, Virgil had to take a moment to close his eyes and concentrate on a few deep breaths to quell the hammering in his ribcage before looking back up at Gordon and giving a nod. He was as ready as he’d ever be. This time when Gordon dived in, he began his swim with a measured pace rather than a burst of speed that he wouldn’t be able to maintain. Virgil didn’t have to work too hard on the oar strokes to keep up with him. Not far out there was a brief moment of panic when Gordon suddenly stopped his forward momentum and started treading water. An odd expression furrowed his brow, then he ducked his head under the water. Dropping the oars and preparing to make a grab for his brother, Virgil was sure his heart stopped beating altogether for a second before the blond head re-emerged above the surface. Seeing the panic in his big brother’s eyes, Gordon grinned and held up the weed he’d just untangled from his leg. “It’s okay, Virge, no cramps, just waterweed.” And with that, he resumed his swim with a flurry of swift kicks and smooth strokes. By the time Virgil could regather the oars – and his wits – his little brother was ten meters ahead of him. It took only a few strong pulls on the oars to catch up again, but Virgil knew his pulse rate was not going to climb down out of the stratosphere until they were both on dry land. It felt like an eternity, but in reality, it was only a few minutes before Gordon was able to lay his hands on the slippery surface of the rock. Finding a decent hold, he clambered up far enough to sit on a crag, feet still in the water, triumphant grin lighting up his features, water droplets catching the sunlight, causing his hair and skin to glisten as he caught his breath. “I knew I could do it!” he panted as Virgil drew the dinghy close beside him. “I never doubted you, Squiddo,” Virgil agreed, practically beaming with pride at his brother’s achievement. “Now, are you gonna swim back? Or do you want a lift?” Gordon’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t really thought about the return trip. Virgil chuckled. “Um, I think maybe I’ll just come back with you in the boat.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, dragging it back from where it was dripping into his eyes. “No problem, Fish. You’ve proved enough for one day.” With a bit of manoeuvring, jostling, and boat rocking, Gordon was able to climb into the dinghy and settle himself into the seat at the prow. To him, the journey back to the dock seemed to take no time at all. Virgil’s strong, steady strokes with the oars propelled them quickly and smoothly through the water as though it took no effort at all. He jumped out of the boat and onto the pier before Virgil had even finished drawing the oars into the boat, then waited for Virgil to climb out and secure the mooring. “Virgil?” It was all the warning the older boy got as he turned to face his little brother, who closed the space between them at a run and launched himself into what became a squid hug, arms and legs tightly wrapped around Virgil’s torso. It took Virgil a couple of backward steps before he could steady himself under the sudden additional weight. “Thank you. You are the best big brother.” Virgil returned the embrace, allowing a chuckle to escape as he rested his head against damp hair. “You are a pretty amazing little brother, Squid.”
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*** The Last Day of Summer celebration, and Virgil’s twelfth birthday turned out to be a fantastic, fun-filled event for all involved. Nothing could hold Gordon back from spending as much time as possible in the water, and so no one knew there had ever been a problem. The nightmares had run their course too. Summer vacation came to an end, and with the start of the school term, life returned to normal. A few weeks later a chance meeting at school pickup resulted in a few puzzle pieces slotting into place for Lucy. Gordon’s class teacher spotted Lucy waiting in the Kiss & Drop zone and made a passing comment about his wonderful piece of creative writing for the obligatory “What I Did Over Summer” assignment. When they got home, with the boys all occupied with snacks or homework and various afterschool activities, Lucy dug out Gordon’s writing workbook and found the story in question titled “My Summer Vacation,” with a large A+ written in red at the top of the page. My Summer Vacation I did lots of things in summer with my big brothers and we had lots of fun but there was one scary day. I went swimming in the lake when I wasn’t supposed to and I nearly drowned but my brother was there and he saved me. After that I was scared to go swimming, but he told me it would make him sad if I didn’t swim anymore because he says swimming makes me happy. We looked up all the ways you can get into trouble swimming in lakes and rivers and oceans. We found out all the ways you can look for dangers and get out of trouble in the water and how to be safe. Now I’m not scared to go swimming anymore. Well, that explained a great deal. Lucy smiled to herself and shook her head a little. She would have words with Virgil about the kind of secrets that needed to be shared with an adult, but she was struck once again by how amazing her boys could be and just how far they would go for one another.
***
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lostxinfinity · 3 years
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what if she-ra was actually mamma mia
I heard mamma mia in a she-ra playlist and made a stupid comment about it to a friend and now here we are...
I present to you: mamma shera - the musical
Chiquitita
Of course Scorpia sings it to Catra. She's most likely frustrated after losing another fight to the princesses. She hides in a corner somewhere in the Fright Zone but of course Scopria find her anyway. The song starts out by them sitting next to each other but eventually Scorpia stand up and starts performing. She tries to get Catra to join the dance but she's very stiff.
SOS
Adora sings this to Catra after being captured by her. She is tied up on the floor at first when the song starts. Catra is at the other end of the room, not interested at first. As the chorus hits, Adora frees herself and starts dancing. She emotionally strides across the room as the song progresses, mostly moving around Catra in circles. She watches thoughtfully. She joins during the last when you're gone, how can I even try to go on?
I Have A Dream
Hordak sings this longingly when building the protal. No I will not elaborate, you know I'm right.
Does Your Mother Know
Emily sings it to Entrapta. You only hear robotic beeping in the rhythm of the song with subtitles of the lyrics. Maybe you can hear Scorpia whispering the actual lyrics in the background , I'm not sure about that one.
Slipping Through My Fingers
Angella sings it with Glimmer. It's very emotional, everyone cries (including me).
Voulez-Vous
Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio. It's a whole sequence that starts during a mission where it's only them. As the song progresses, you see the trio back in the Fright Zone. Now Catra, Hordak, Scorpia, Entrapta and everyone else from the Fright Zone join the performance bit by bit. They do the background choreography and vocals.
or maybe imp sings it idk
Dancing Queen
Sea Hawk. The song starts during a heated battle. But suddenly all the lights go out. There is one single beam of light. It then cuts to DT, they're the one shining the light on Sea Hawk. You see Mermista shaking her head as Sea Hawk starts going ham on the battle field which has now transformed into a dancefloor. The song ends because she splashes him with water.
Our Last Summer
Hordak is back on Horde Prime's ship. He should be happy about, you see him slowly walking down the corridors. He then stops, you can hear the first few notes of the song. He puts his hand on the glass of a big window and as he stares at the stars he starts singing. You see Entrapta roaming around Darla, she seems happy. But her facade stars to crumble. Eventually, she stops and takes the same pose as Hordak. As she joins the song, both of them appear on screen you know, this ugly splitscreen where there's one character on each side.
Take A Chance On Me
Scorpia and Catra again. The performance follows them through their day. Scorpia takes every chance to try and convince Catra of her qualities. She pokes over Catra's shoulder when she's planning, sits next to her in the cafeteria, follows her even into Hordak's lab. Catra ignores her the whole time. Entrapta and Emily do the background vocals Emily tries her best but it's just beeping again.
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!
Double Trouble. Even though it is meant to be only a side performance they outshine everyone. Sea Hawk does the lighting.
Super Trouper
Glimmer sings about Bow. You see her in Bright Moon fulfilling her duties as queen during the day. At night, Bow joins her and they dance. Adora does the background vocals.
Money, Money, Money
Kyle is just fed up with everyone in the Fright Zone. The sequence begins with him, Lonnie and Rogelio coming back from a mission. They make fun of him again as he suddenly bursts into song. The other two do the background vocals but the focus lies only on Kyle because he deserves it.
Waterloo
Adora and Catra are in a heated one on one battle. Suddenly they get very close. They intensely stare into each other's eyes. Then, the song starts and suddenly the continue fighting, every move is on beat. Both, the other princesses and Horde soldiers stand in the background looking very confused.
Why Did It Have to Be Me
Hordak and Entrapta. He wonders why the hell she ended up staying with him. It's a funky performance and the rest of the Horde members just watch with very confused looks on their faces.
Lay All Your Love On Me
I couldn't really decide on two specific characters so this is a duet between all of the couples. There are a lot of cuts jumping from one couple to the next.
Knowing Me, Knowing You
This is definitely Catra. The song follows her through her daily life in The Fright Zone as she thinks about her relationship with Adora. You sometimes see her being with the other princesses while you hear Catra singing.
Mamma Mia
This song belongs to Mermista. You see her alone in Salineas. She's thinking about Sea Hawk when she starts singing. It starts slowly but then the scene jumps to her on a ship together with Sea Hawk and the rest of the crew. She shines, this is her song and she knows it. The others do the background vocals.
The Winner Takes It All
This is the final song. It takes place during the endfight between the Horde and the Rebellion. Everyone sings but the focus is mainly on Catra and Adora.
thank you to @lcnelywclf who contributed some of these
feel free to add your own ideas. and if you're an artist i'm offering you my firstborn to draw this.
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laufire · 3 years
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(CW for mentions of csa)
A lot of Commonly Accepted (Often Through Uncritical Repetition) Wisdom in fandom leaves me baffled, when not straight up ticked off, but one that's been on my mind lately, that never fails to bring a scrunched up expression to my face, is the idea that Bela Talbot's backstory was some last minute add-on to her character.
You might argue that the reveal was rushed since the writers caved in and killed her off against their original plan (or at the very least, earlier than). Or that using abuse is a trite way to raise sympathy for an antagonistic character. You could even say that some of the finer details might’ve not been set in stone until they sat down to write her exist, although that one is dubious. But I’m never really going to buy that Bela’s backstory hadn’t been already planned, likely in big part.
The reason why is Season Three Episode Six, “Red Sky At Morning”, Bela’s second episode, co-written by Eric Kripke himself. As all episodes with Bela were, may I add; which means he had a hand in crafting her story from the beginning, as creator, director, and writer.
There Dean, a character that has been shown as sharp and intuitive (although his success rate ain’t that great when it comes to Bela, admittedly xD), immediately pegs her as someone with Issues TM, asking “how did she get like this”. He even taunts her by referencing her father, showing off his talent to hit where it hurts by asking if he “didn’t give her enough hugs”, ‘cause he’s classy like that. This visibly affects Bela, changing her demeanor in their conversation, from more playful to defensive. Hell, I remember during my first watch in real time this moment, especially paired with the rest of the episode, was when I first thought it was possible she came from an abusive family.
Because, c’mon. This whole episode is about parricide. The monster of the week is a ghost who haunts those that “spilled their own family’s blood”. We get two other examples: a woman whose accidental car crash killed her cousin, and two brothers who killed their father for the inheritance. Clearly, the ghost doesn’t have a narrow criteria when it comes to means or culpability -which makes sense given his particular story: he was tried for treason and his brother, the captain of the ship, issued the sentence.
And just as we find out this information... Bela sees the ghost ship that foretells her death. This, paired with the insinuations about an unsavvory past and her discomfort at the mention of her father, aren’t a wealth of information, but they start to paint a picture. We now know for a fact that Bela caused the death of at least one relative (mom and dad); that she wouldn’t have needed to do it directly (she made a crossroads deal); and that she might’ve had a sympathetic motive (her father sexually abused her and her mother turned a blind eye).
That scene offers some more tidbits of information about her past that seem too in tune with 3x15 to be coincidental, and that absolutely break my heart: Bela’s “You wouldn’t understand. No one did.“ and “I’ll just do what I’ve always done. I’ll deal with it myself”. See, I always thought Bela must’ve told people, when she was a kid. That she reached out for help not just to her mother, but to everyone around her that she thought could’ve help: teachers, maybe even law enforcement; adults that should’ve being worthy of that trust and protected her. Except no one did (and the fact that her family seemed to be not only very rich but influential paints a very bleak picture that surely contributed to her cynic view of the world). So she took matters in her own hands, and sold her soul for ten years of relative safety and freedom from her abusers.
To tie it all up, her final scene in that episode offers some more moments that again, are very in line with her backstory. We see how she treats relationships as transactionals: she pays ten grand to the Winchesters for saving her life, like she paid with her soul. Dean, again, draws attention to her likely messed up past by calling her damaged, and she replies that “takes one to know one”. Terrible childhood, ammirite. The show wasn’t been subtle here: it’s telling us Bela has a terrible past, like the Winchesters do, but of a different kind that has resulted in a different kind of person. So yeah, I think all the facts were hinted at back in 3x06.
We could go even futher back and point out 3x03, Bela’s introduction. One of the very first things she says in the show, during her first face to face with Dean (a character that just condemned his soul to Hell), is “We’re all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride”. Sure, it could be an incredibly fortuitous coincidence; as a writer, I’ve had those and they’re damn great. But it seems VERY lucky, and more likely to be a case of the kind premeditated, well-placed foreshadowing that Kripke excels at.
So, okay. I’ve established why I think Bela’s backstory wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. But why is there a notable narrative in fandom that it IS?
First thing first, I want to get something out of the way: you don’t have to like it even if it was planned ahead. I understand it’s a very thorny subject, and to make matters worse, it’s inherently tied to her death. You might even be fine with the what, but not with how it was dealt with (although personally, I appreciate that neither the abuse nor her death were shown onscreen. In fact, the worse violence we see Bela on the receiving end of in her run is Dean’s threats and manhandling, which seems like a very purposeful choice ngl. Even Gordon freaking Walker was gentler lmao).
But I do disagree with some extended fandom opinions on the topic, and I guess that’s what the post is about. For one, I don’t see how the show “condemned” or morally judged Bela in this scenario. If anything, they clearly wanted to make her sympathetic, AND they showed Dean as being in the wrong by robbing him of information. Dean’s opinion on Bela couldn’t count for shit, for once, because he didn’t have the full picture; because Bela had deemed him UNWORTHY of the full picture, and thus anything he had to say on her couldn’t be taken at face value (except this is Supernatural, so I guess this was a little too much to ask of some people?). I think saying that just because Bela died and went to Hell as a consequence of her deal, IN THE SAME SEASON the same happened to our co-lead, because the writers deemed her evil and irredeemable is simplistic at best, and the audience projecting their own feelings (or being unable to see past Dean’s) onto the writing.
All that said, to go back to the initial point of all of this xD: WHY does fandom seem to insist on viewing this narrative choice as some cheap last minute addition?
There might not be one explanation that fits all, but I have a few ideas. One is that, if this wasn’t planned for and hinted at from early on, some people might feel as if this “absolves” them of their previous (and disgustingly hateful and misoginistic) reactions to Bela. Others will see this as absolving Dean, and maybe even Sam to a lesser extent, for not helping her and for being callous towards her; if her tragic backstory was this artificial, rushed choice made by Those Writers, then Dean wasn’t responsible for reprehensible attitudes towards someone who deserved his compassion (and it can’t be denied that this fandom loves absolving Dean of responsibility lmao). And a lot people are probably only repeating what they've heard from others as the accepted narrative, especially those that didn't even watch all of s3 if at all (Castiel is my fave too, but seriously, s1-3 are worth it).
It’s like they’re creating this imaginary separation between Bela pre-reveal, and Bela post-reveal, to make the situation easier to themselves. See, Bela pre-reveal was this annoying bitch who inconvenienced and embarrassed our leads (not to mention dared have chemistry with them), and thus deserved to be punished for it; or, if we’re going with more modern fandom sensibilities, she can be made to fit into the shallow #GirlBoss mold, with a side of “Secretly A Lesbian And Therefore Not A Romantic Threat” flavour -the current preferred method to make controversial female characters more palatable.
The reveal throws a wrench into this narrative. “Bitch who deserves her comeuppance” is a hard sell when you’re talking about a character who survived csa. And a shallow #GirlBoss reading doesn’t work if you have to acknowledge that Bela was one of, if not the most tragic characters in the entire run of Supernatural.
She spent over half her life at the mercy of her abuser(s), hurt by those who should’ve loved her and protected her most. The rest of her life was extremely lonely, with seemingly only a cat as company, and a surface-level freedom that hid under the sentence that loomed over her head. She died without a single friend, or a simple show of kindness and compassion, without anyone bothering to fight for her. And then she ended up tortured for who knows how long until she became one of her torturers.
All of that is extremely difficult to digest. And when things are hard to swallow, people do as people do, and they try to simplify them. So, sure. Bela’s reveal wasn’t ever hinted at, it’s completely removed from her character and the person we met, and is not even worth trying to fit into the narrative. Sounds easy.
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brawltogethernow · 4 years
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So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.
I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.
Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.
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I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.
A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It
That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.
Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--
Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.
For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.
Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.
Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.
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DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.
So why does it work?
It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.
The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.
(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)
And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.
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Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?
That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor
The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.
I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.
The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”
Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.
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Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.
One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.
It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.
It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.
Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.
Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.
It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.
Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again
This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).
Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.
Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.
How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!
Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.
*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING
The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:
It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.
It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.
Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.
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Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.
Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.
It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.
Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!
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Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.
It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.
IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
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What I Thought About "Through The Looking Glass Ruins" from The Owl House
Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!
When Disney announced episode titles/synopsis for the new season (On a day that left my head SPINNING!), there was one episode that I knew deep down that would cause controversy and discourse amongst the fandom. And that episode was "Through the Looking Glass Ruins." Not because it would be bad, far from it. Instead, because the episode was a Gus episode with a Lumity subplot, that meant that discourse would start as fans decide which story they prefer more. A situation that, might I add, would result in no winners.
Do you prefer the Lumity plotline? Well, guess what! You're a racist who chose to talk about an overrated ship rather than a heavily underrated character who just so happens to be a person of color.
Do you prefer Gus' plotline? Well, guess what! You're a homophobe who decided to shine a light on a character who's underrated for a reason instead of praising a ship that just so happens to involve two girls.
Either side you pick is going to result in making people mad. The only way to avoid that is by explaining in heavy detail that you still enjoyed one side despite preferring the other. Even if you loved both, you'll most certainly have to explain to everyone that you mean it and that you're neither racist nor homophobic. And all I have to say is this: F that.
F that S in the A right now.
Because I, or anybody else for that matter, shouldn't have to explain myself when it comes to saying why I prefer one plot line or the other. I shouldn't have to prevent getting ripped apart by some bulls**t, black and white mentality of people who can't accept that others like a show for different reasons than they do.
You wanna know what I think about "Through the Looking Glass Ruins?" Well, continue reading to find out. You'll have to make your way through spoilers, but it's the only way for you to learn why I consider this episode not worth any discourse that I'm already certain is cropping up.
Now, let's review, shall we?
WHAT I LIKED
The Opening Scene: I'm kind of digging how snappy and to the point these opening scenes are getting. In the span of what has to be less than a minute, we're given all the information we need to know: Gus is insecure about his illusion magic because he accidentally got Willow injured. It's a great way of setting up why Gus wants to prove himself to the Glandus students and a great way of showing how much Willow's friendship means to him. Look at how he's reacting a few days after the incident. He's still mopey and guilty about it, and I feel bad for the little guy.
Gus in General: And while we're already talking about him, let's give this episode a round of applause for giving Gus the spotlight without having him screw over his friends...except for Willow.
"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" really fleshes Gus out much more so than past episodes. As I said, it plays heavily into his own insecurities while proving how he's capable as an illusionist. He's also the best possible outlet to explore more about what illusionist magic can really do. It can't hurt anybody or work well in a fight. Instead, its strengths lie in the act of convincingly tricking others into thinking that something that should be fake is actually real. And Gus got to prove he really is a super witch because of his illusions through a jaw-dropping scene that's as dark as it was enthralling. The fact that he did it all by himself, without the help of an illusion elder who was right there, is honestly even more impressive. A lot of people aren't that interested in Gus as a character, but I feel like, after this episode, he certainly won a few more fans over.
Willow Getting Injured and Missing the Episode: This is a smart move, in my opinion. Willow acts as the voice of reason in the friend group, so if she tagged along with Luz and Gus right away, she would have easily talked Gus out of joining the Glandus kids on a dangerous quest. I love Willow, she's a solid character, but writing her out is really the only way the plot could have progressed.
(I also love that she wasn't mad in the slightest over Gus getting her hurt. She has every right to be, but she also understands that it was an accident, and Gus wouldn't do anything to purposefully hurt her. And that's sweet!)
King’s Prerecorded Message for Gus: That's just adorable. We need more cute friendship moments between these two, DAMN IT!
Gus Being Sick of Luz’s S**t: Of all the characters I expected to get sick of the whole Lumity situation, Gus wasn't really one of them. I'd always thought it'd be Willow, primarily because the rest of the fandom latched onto that idea, but for Gus, I'd figured he'd be more supportive rather than annoyed. That being said, seeing him call Luz out for borrowing his library card to see Amity (Not ask her out. Just to see her) is not only a hilarious moment for Gus but also an adorable moment for Luz. It's something I would never have seen coming, but now that I have it, I want more. GIVE ME MORE!
(Sorry if I'm being a little intense)
Luz Trying to Cheer Up Gus: It's moments like this that prove why Luz is my favorite character.
Willow might have the most common sense out of the group, but it's Luz who still has the biggest heart. She knows her friend is down in the dumps, so Luz pulls out all the stops in cheering him up. Whether it's researching the first-ever human (really surprised he wasn't the tiniest bit excited about that, by the way) and lending him glyphs for his mission to help show up Mattholomule. She may be slow in the romantic relationship department, but episodes like this prove that she excels with a platonic friendship.
Bria: I consider Amar adorably optimistic, and I have no strong feelings for Gavin, one or the other. But with Bria? Holy hell, did the writers do everything they should with her!
At first, it seems like she'll be a generic nice girl for Gus to have a crush on. Only for that writing to be a perfect twist into how she's kind of the worst. You see hints of her true personality in the overly sweet way she threatens to force Amar to eat a bug he gets distracted by. A viewer's initial reaction to that would be to think that while she's sweet, she still means business. But no, it's actually a perfect way to reveal her true intentions while hiding them at the same time. Bria may be rotten to the core, but with how perfectly executed this twist was, I can't help but adore her contribution.
Mattholomule: ...I would sooner expect to have gone insane before believing that this little s**t weasel would make his way onto my good side. Despite that, here we are in episode five of the new season, and I like Mattholomule now.
The reveal that Glandus High forces students to believe that the strong survive and the weak are inferior explains so much for Mattholomule's thirst for power in "Something Ventured, Someone Framed." It doesn't excuse his actions, not by a long shot, but it definitely paints a clearer picture. It also explains his treatment of Gus, as well as Mattholomule's reasoning to help him. Because of Glandus High inserting a "the strong survive" mentality into Mattholomule, he belittles Gus due to thinking that illusion magic makes Gus weak. But after seeing how they're both stooges to Bria's mistreatment, he's quick to apologize and willingly helps Gus out. In the process, the two of them create a believable and cute friendship...a friendship that is absolutely going to be interpreted as something else by the fandom...which is something that I'm more than supportive of--HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?! I WENT FROM ONE OF THE BIGGEST GUSTOLOMULE DENIERS TO ONE OF ITS SUPPORTERS IN LESS THAN A DAY! HOW DO THESE WRITERS MANAGE TO TAKE ELEMENTS THAT WERE ONCE ON MY S**T LIST TO THEN MAKING ME MORE THAN OK WITH THEM!
IT'S INSANE!
Mostly impressive.
BUT ALSO INSANE!
Edric and Emira: More so than ever, I am so happy that the writers took their course correction with Edric and Emira. These two work so much better as supporting characters rather than minor antagonists like several fans thought they would be after their treatment of Amity in "Lost in Language." They're quick to pick up on Luz and Amity's mutual affections for one another and do their part to help their friend and baby sister out. It's wholesome to watch, and, you know what, I'm gonna go ahead and say it: Edric and Emira Blight are much better mischievous twin characters than Fred and George Weasley. As much as I adore Fred and George, there is an issue how they're always referred to as Fred and George, not Fred or George. It's because their personalities are as identical as they are, so separating them is pointless. With Edric and Emira, they have enough individuality that you could enjoy them separately as much as you could seeing them together. Emira is more emotionally supportive in how she listens to Amity vent her frustrations about her feelings, while Edric is more of a doofus who can't take a hint to save his life. It creates a great set of characters who can potentially work well on their own. I hope they get explored more at some point, but for now, I'm happy with the cute moments these two offered already.
Lumity Moments: BUUUUUUUUUUUUT, nothing compares to the cuteness of these two.
I don't care if I'll be called a racist for it because these! Moments! These moments are the highlights of "Through the Looking Glass Ruins" for me! Seeing these two interact in this episode, now that the pining is mutual, was everything I could have ever hoped for, and so much more. Seriously, how can you complain about anything about all of this when you get cute bits like:
Luz getting flustered of seeing Amity with her hair down
Amity risking her job to help Luz
Amity being motivated to find the diary due to the possibility of a date with Luz in the human realm
Luz going through hell and back to get Amity her job back
All of the blushing
And that F**KING KISS AT THE END HOLY SH--Don't you dare think I'm not going to further discuss that. DON'T YOU DARE!
Gus' story was entertaining with how it surprised me in all the right ways, don't get me wrong. But seeing Luz and Amity's relationship develop more and more always fills my heart with glee that, believe it or not, I'm always going to remember it more. I love you, Gus, but I love Lumity more.
Philip Whittabeen: So we finally have a name to the alleged human who was here years ago, and we get properly introduced to him through a really visually appealing animation change. I'm personally curious to see where the writers go with him, but it's too early to say if his inclusion will be worth something. But I will say one thing, though. One thing, and then I'm going to move on.
Here it is:
Philip sounds eerily similar to Emperor Belos to me.
That is all I'm going to say about that.
Luz’s Sentences in Spanish: I want to give a personal shout-out to mi buen amigo @l-egionaire for pointing this out because there are some things to analyze in what Luz says in Spanish in this episode. Knowing what she means, it's clear that they are ideals that Camila instilled into Luz. Ideals that possibly show a lot about Camila's personality on top of revealing where Luz got her hopeful optimism and sense of determination. It's the second sentence that Luz says later on that I really want to delve deep into:
"Nada funcionará a menos que lo haga funcionar."
Translated, that means "Nothing will work unless you make it work." Again, this proves the dedication that Luz has filled into her soul, but to me, it says a lot about Luz's dedication to Amity. She wants to make this relationship work but fully understands that it won't unless she puts in the effort. It's a sweet sentiment that says so much about how Luz feels about Amity that some fans might not be able to pick up on if they don't speak Spanish. Or, in my case, have a good friend who finds the translation for you (thanks again @l-egionaire).
The Galderstones: Pretty interesting concept, I'm not going to lie. It's also interesting that of all the types of witches in the Boiling Isles, it was illusionists who were the ones that guard over the Galderstones. Because illusion magic can't really harm anyone, it makes a weird type of sense that they would be the ones to keep the Galderstones out of the wrong hands. And, even better, it showcases Gus' strength as an illusionist when he was able to take down Bria, who was hopped up on Galderstone power, through that same "harmless" magic. It just goes to show that if you have a big enough brain, you don't need to overpower somebody. You need to outthink them.
Malphus Being a Surprisingly Cool Dude: What can I say? I'm a sucker for expectation subversion.
Luz and Amity Crying: First of all, a HUGE round of applause to VAs Sarah-Nicole Robles and Mae Whitman through their vocal performances in this scene! They really sold how upset and broken apart Luz and Amity were due to their feelings for each other messing things up. More so with Sarah-Nicole.
Second, this might be the closest these two have gotten to a confession so far ("so far" being the keyword). I specifically latch onto Amity's expression after hearing Luz agree that she's always weird around Amity. In one way, it looks like Amity is surprised to see she made Luz cry, but in another, it could be that she realizes that perhaps that Luz has feelings for her as well. Or, at least, that's how I interpreted things. The thing about art is that there's no one interpretation to agree on. And that's what this scene is: Art. It's performed, written, and animated well, that no matter how you look at it, it's a masterpiece.
“I’ll call the hounds”: One line. One line was all it took for me to love the Keeper of the Looking Glass Graveyard.
Amity Dyes her Hair: I always assumed that Amity would let her original hair color grow out as defiance to Odalia. But dying it lavender? Thus crafting her own identity without having her be compared to either Odalia or Alador?
...yeah, that's brilliant. Whoever thought of that, you are a genius and deserve all of the credit that comes from it.
ALL of the credit.
Amity Kisses Luz on the Cheek!: I'll save my "Wha-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo" for an actual kiss, but for now, THIS IS AWESOME!
This moment, much like other Lumity moments, was everything I could have ever expected and so much more:
Amity's instant panic after realizing she seriously just did that
Ed and Em looking fondly at their sister taking such a big step
The look on Luz's face, which may or may not hint that she realizes that the feelings are more than mutual
And the fact that Luz's legs give out soon after Amity leaves
It was adorable as all forms of hell, and it was a perfect way to end such a perfect episode...or, at least, an almost perfect episode. I do have some issues.
WHAT I DISLIKED
Mattholomule Helping Gus too Easily: The Glandus kids were right there, in-ear and eye-shot, yet did nothing as Mattholomule effortlessly helped Gus and the Keeper escape...how?
Gavin falling for Gus’ Illusion: I want to laugh at how stupidly easy that was...but it's too stupidly easy for me to forgive.
And that’s about it. Just two nitpicks that don’t really take away that much enjoyment from the episode
IN CONCLUSION
"Through the Looking Glass Ruins" keeps Season Two's winning streak going by being another solid A. It fleshes out characters, develops cute relationships, and keeps the story going despite being so character-driven. It's easily more than worth the time...but it's not worth any discourse that comes from some fans preferring one plot over the other.
I highly doubt that some people are racist for loving the Lumity plotline or homophobic for loving Gus'. Maybe some people are, but also consider that maybe, just maybe, a person loves a ship because it's their favorite, or a person likes a character cause he's their favorite.
Which.
Is.
Fine.
There's no definitive way to like a series, and demanding that people like it for the same reasons you do is not worth anything. Because, believe it or not, even Dana Terrace doesn't care how people love her show. In the AMA she did, when a fan asked if she's upset about fans obsessing over Amity's crush on Luz, this is her word for word reaction:
"Not at all! No, the main focus of the series will never be on any romantic thread but that doesn't mean those threads aren't important. And I'm thrilled that people connect to our characters!"
THERE YOU HAVE IT! The creator herself fully admits that she doesn't care what fans latch onto. She's just glad to have people who like the show in the first place! So don't create discourse just because some people enjoy a part of an episode more than others. The second you get that through your heads, the sooner we can all move on with our lives.
(Also, that's five episodes in a row that are hits. And, man, is that stinker going to hit harder because of it.)
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