#and if any relatives ask why we tell them she was lying about culture to justify stealing tens of thousands of dollars from our household
Text
yeah i got into a huge fight with my fiance yesterday
but like at this point i got him to agree that if this shit with his mother continues about the money and that shithole apartment we're uninviting her from our wedding
im not letting some psycho fester thoughts that include, "my daughter in law will hand me $5k a month, live in an illegal basement studio next to a boiler with my son (that i scammed him into putting two years savings into before seeing the unit while lying it was a two bedroom), push out babies for me to make all decisions about and coo over while she does all work, while i live upstairs and get served by her the same way she took care of her mom (while she had cancer and im completely healthy and eight years younger) cause that's what i deserve as a mother of a son even though i did none of this cause ive never had my own job so i couldn't give money and lived halfway around the world from my in-laws so i couldn't serve them"
while she lies about it being cHiNeSe CuLtUrE as her reasoning (even though we live in NYC) thinking she can get away with it.....even though most of me and my fiances mutual friends are Chinese cause we went to a school together that was like nearly 50% Chinese.........i fucking offered all the actual cultural things for the wedding too, tea ceremony, food, attire (using plastic for chuppah glass to not have a broken glass at a wedding). things that are literally faux pas in Judaism and this useless woman goes, "no I ONLY WANT THE MONEY" while lying to relatives that she paid the fucking dowry and my mom's "stealing from her" by not giving her reimbursement gifts........but in actuality, and with literal fucking receipts that I'm not afraid to air out to his relatives, she's actively trying to steal tens of thousands from my relatives and my mom???????????? she's also been telling people im stealing MY OWN SALARY from her..... psychotic broad
like we're cutting it off now....im not putting up with it at all in marriage especially at this point when im the fucking higher earner (which has honestly gone back and forth our whole relationship that's no biggie in normal circumstances (cuz both of us are in careers that have similar wages at all levels and a similar cap) but when this psychopath wants to steal our money oh hell it is)
and next time she says "i deserve as mother of son" im calling her a useless cum-hole who does less work than a fucking actual prostitute, because the only difference between her and my mother (other than my mother's lack of like... medically neglecting her kid with a disability to the point that im nearly fully functional and his brothers like....not), is the cum.....she had no choice in which cum formed a child, so she gets NOTHING from me
im done with this lying useless thieving piece of disrespectful sexist useless garbage
#personal#hes been like 'well if she tries to steal at our wedding we hired security'#and NO I'm NOT having some thieving psychopath escorted out of MY WEDDING??????????#if you think shell steal#shes not invited.....if you cant get 'swiper no swiping' into a 52 year olds head.....NOT INVITED#and if any relatives ask why we tell them she was lying about culture to justify stealing tens of thousands of dollars from our household#every fucking year???? while trying to force us to live in a basement.....that she scammed tens of thousands of dollars out of him with#like the useless hag literally used the verbiage trash parents who spend their kids chinese new years money use ABOUT MY SALARY#'i have to keep it safe from you' UHHHHH I EARN IT...I INVEST IT......I GOT TWO MONTHS RENT IN DIVIDENDS CHECK THIS MONTH FROM MY INVESTMENT#i dont need some pyramid scheme credit for designer bags bitch showing me how to 'manage' my money and 'keep it safe from me' (lmao)#because im even the type to take a shitty min wage job between professional jobs to not touch my long term high yeild savings or my#fucking investments???? like ill take a retail job or find a bunch of freelance while between jobs for that purpose and#this broad will not ruin my VERY GOOD finances cause she wants gucci and lv and Hermes and shit and thinks it not fair she can't have
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!
~*~
Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.
Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?
Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.
Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.
Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-
Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-
Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-
Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.
Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.
Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?
Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.
Jon: But?
Martin:...There's no but.
Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.
Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.
Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?
Martin: Perhaps. After all,
Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!
Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!
Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.
Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?
Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.
Jon:...
Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.
Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.
Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.
Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.
Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.
Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?
Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.
Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.
Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?
Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.
Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?
Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.
Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.
Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.
Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.
Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.
Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?
Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.
Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?
Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.
Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.
Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.
Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.
Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?
Martin: Tofu!
Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?
Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-
Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.
Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.
Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright
Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-
Jon: -uh huh-
Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-
Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-
Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.
Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.
Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.
Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.
Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.
Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad.
Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.
Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.
Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?
Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.
Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!
Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.
Martin: Well...
Jon: Well, what?
Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-
Jon: What?!
Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?
Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-
Martin [only laughs harder]
Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.
Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.
Jon: Hang on, you proposed?
Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?
Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.
Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-
Jon: No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.
Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?
Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.
[An audible pause is left in the recording.]
Martin: That does not count.
Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!
Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.
Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.
Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.
Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.
Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?
Jon: Uhh..
Martin: Yes?
Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.
Martin: Okay? And?
Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.
Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.
[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]
Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.
Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.
Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.
Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.
Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.
Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.
Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.
Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.
Jon, soft: I know, love.
Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.
Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.
[Martin sighs]
Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.
Jon: Please.
Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.
Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.
Martin: That's very true. Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.
Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.
Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.
Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.
Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.
Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.
Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.
Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.
Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..
Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look.
Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.
#wonderful! au#jonmartin#tma#jon sims#martin blackwood#my fic#thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments#more may come later but i make no promises!
142 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book
.
.
.
There’s a lot of talk amongst the indie writers community about how to deal with bad reviews. I myself have had a lot of conversations on the topic to see how others handle the negative reviews they receive.
I’ve been given a lot of good advice, from looking at it from a critical standpoint, and something you can learn from, to making memes out the worst reviews you get, to completely ignoring them and never looking at them.
My History of Bad Reviews
I still remember the first couple of bad reviews I got for No Pain, No Game.The first one was from someone who couldn’t take the graphic scenes of torture and violence in the book. Though one side of my brain obsessed about how much of a failure this made and my book (…yep, I totally went there), the other part was able to rationalise the feedback. If it wasn’t for them, it was fair enough.
The second bad review I got though was brutal. The reader hated the book and everything in it and wrote a very strongly worded (and somewhat entertaining) review about it. This was a gut-punch, though thankfully by the time it happened I’d gained enough confidence in myself and in my work not to let it bring me down (or at least, not too much).
In a time where everyone’s used to hiding behind a screen, people forget that there’s an actual breathing person on the other end, with feelings as acute as their own.
And because I know how painful it is to receive a bad review, especially when you’re starting out and your confidence in your art may be fragile, I don’t leave bad reviews on others’ books. I wouldn’t lie and leave a positive reviewif I didn’t like it, I just wouldn’t leave a review at all.
I realise we focus a lot on what it’s like to be on the receiving end of bad reviews — what about the other side, I wonder? Do writers who know how crushing a bad review can feel leave negative reviews on fellow writers’ work?
It takes one to know one
In another highly unofficial poll in my Instagram stories recently (I’m loving those!) I asked people whether they leave negative reviews on books, and 62% said they don’t.
Speaking to other authors, I had a feeling that, like me, they may be able to put themselves in other writers’ shoes and be reluctant to leave negative reviews.
Jen Furlong, author of Hidden City, for instance, doesn’t leave negative reviews. ‘Authors, especially new ones need support and encouragement,’ she says. ‘I focus on what I did like about the book and how I see the author growing in future books’. If there was something she didn’t like about a book, she continues, ‘then that’s on me. Someone else probably loved it! Who am I to poo on a fellow writer’s hard work?’
For author of The Path to Resilience Severine Desrosiers, ‘feedback is paramount’ so she does give negative reviews. However, whether or not the title is an indie book or not still influences what she does: ‘ifit’s someone like myself,an indie author who is trying to get known then I wouldprobably not leavea public review. But if it’s someone like Stephen King’s latest book for example then yes because I don’t think that that will affect him as much’.
And this seems to be a recurring view — that it’s not only about leaving a negative review or not, but that there may be a distinction leaving negative reviews on indie books or books written by debut authors, versus those written by more established authors.
When asking people about this in my Instagram stories, someone said that, rather than leave a bad review, they ‘tend to leave no review when it is an indie book with less than 500 reviews’.
I thought that would be a widely spread opinion but, in my unofficial poll, I asked people just that: when deciding to leave a review or not, does it matter whether or not the book is an indie book? And 75% of respondents said it doesn’t.
The Holy Grail of Constructive Criticism
That left me a little confused, and it definitely got me thinking. When checking whether people tend to leave no review at all rather than leave a negative review, the results were inconclusive — 53% said they do, 47% said they don’t… How’s that for a divided jury!
So, most people don’t tend to leave bad reviews, and for 75% of people that decision isn’t impacted by whether or not the book’s an indie book. And there’s no clear trend on leaving a negative review versus leaving no review at all.
Digging into the matter more, however, it looks like there’s more to it than meets the eye. Because most people don’t tend to look at it as a ‘negative review’ or a ‘bad review’. What everyone’s unanimously aiming for is:
constructive criticism.
‘Bad is a relative term,’ a poll respondent said, ‘I’ve never intentionally bashed something’, it’s all ‘constructive criticism’. ‘If worded correctly’, someone else concurred, ‘I think the author can and should use it as constructive criticism and learn’.
And many authors see it that way, too. Lane Northcutt, author of The Delivery Company, says he reads all reviews, good and bad because writers have to listen to their readers. Reviews should be used as fuel for future improvement, he says: ‘I think to myself “how can I see my book through this lens?” or “is this a trend?” and go from there. […] If is a theme within many reviews, then it’s worth taking your time to see what’s going on and how to fix it’.
Alexander Michael, author of Transformations, looks at it in a similar way: ‘Writers, including myself, need to grow. But no review I write will be rude or unhelpful’.
As I was researching this, I came across a great conversation on this very topic in the comments of a post by writer Anna Sheremeteva— here’s some of what people said:
‘I don’t think I’ve ever written a bad review. The lowest rating I’ve done is 3 stars, but I was still able to point out things I liked about the book. I’d say be bold yet polite in your opinion, yet still try to find positives.’
Or again:
‘Give constructive critique and be encouraging at the same time. If it is downright terrible then I’d just not write anything. Better that than trash someone in full view of the IG community. Or maybe DM the person, but again, don’t be harsh.’
I’m sensing a trend… Could it be then that it’s not that people don’t leave ‘bad’ reviews, but that they leave ‘constructive criticism’ reviews instead?
The Right to Conflicting Opinions
In the comments on that Anna Sheremeteva's post I came across this beautifully phrased piece of feedback by a fellow author:
‘I always tell people when I hand them something I’ve written: ‘if my work sucks shit, I wanna know’. Far better to be honest and kind than to be dishonest and coddling.’
There is truth in that, for sure, which is probably why so many people seem to favour giving feedback through a review, constructively, rather than not at all or lying by leaving a falsely positive review.
I hear that, and to an extent I agree. But is all constructive criticism valid criticism? We’re told to write the books we want to write, one that will not necessarily appeal to everyone…
So by definition, some readers won’t like certain books because they simply aren’t right for them — constructive or not, is there value in such reviews, and what is to be made of them? How can we be objective in reviewing a book that simply wasn’t for us?
Reading through the conversation on that Instagram post, I see that angle crop up:
‘I feel it’s ok to have an overall negative opinion,’ someone commented. ‘I would likely find a polite way to express what I liked and didn’t like. But, one thing I’ve seen that I don’t think is very nice to do is when people rate a book based off of what they would do to change the story, not rating the story itself’.
And someone else argued: ‘Today, any topic could be controversial. I may not agree with the authors view on a particular topic, but that doesn’t mean they have no right to express it. I would say, ‘for those who like…’ this is a good read. […] There’s nothing wrong with saying: I don’t necessarily agree with the author’s views, but…’.
And I see their point. There are bound to be books we love and books we don’t. As writers, we have to accept that our work won’t float everyone’s boat. And it seems that everyone’s aligned with the idea that people are allowed their own opinions, whether or not anyone else agrees with them — as long as it’s phrased in a polite and constructive manner. As someone else commented on the post: ‘For sure write a review. Positive or negative, it’s always opinion!’
It’s All Subjective
And that’s the key word, I think. At the end of the day, reviews are just that: opinions.
They’re one person — with their upbringing, values, culture, views of the world — commenting one another person’s work — who will have their own upbringing, values, culture, views of the world. I love the way Jen Furlong puts it: ‘as a writer I find that reader reviews are a lot more about the reader than the book!’
I know from experience that receiving reviews comes with a lot of ups and downs. There’s joy to be found in the ups, and acceptance in the lows. In the words of Alexander Michael:
‘If I receive a bad review, all I need to do is realise that stories and writing are subjective. Someone is going to dislike it. BUT someone else is going to love it. Hang in there and find your clan. Good reviews, on the other hand, are a joy. It's nice to know that something that came from your mind, like a living dream, can be walked in by someone else, and hence enjoyed’.
How wonderfully put!
Bad Reviews… as a Favour?
Here’s one final thought for you, and one I hadn’t really considered until I came across these two comments on Instagram:
‘Express why YOU didn’t like it. This helps people with similar likes and disliked so they know they probably won’t like the book. So they don’t read it. So that’s one less future bad review.’
and:
‘As long as you’re coming from a place of thoughtfulness, then honesty is the way to go! Some people write poorly or write books that aren’t great. If it’s bad, you’ll be helping people not waste money. That’s a good thing.’
How about that?
Yes, constructive criticism can be helpful for authors if they decide to take it onboard. But I’d never really thought about negative reviews as preventing people unknowingly spending their money on a book they wouldn’t like (and therefore writing a bad review afterwards because they’re annoyed they spent their money on a book their didn’t like). And so by helping readers figure out whether a not a book’s for them, you’re helping the author by preventing people posting more negative reviews.
I absolutely love that. I think about the reviews I’ve written and the reviews I’ve received, and I realise — rather shamefully — that neither of these things had really crossed my mind. I thought of writing a positive review as supporting a fellow author, but I’d never considered the upsides of negative reviews like that…
It’s food for thought for me, and something I’m definitely looking to take onboard!
#writingtips#screenwriting#creative writing#writers on tumblr#writers#writing#writerblr#writing advice#writing community#writing resources
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
replies on this post ( @ngocthach4020, numbering mine ):
Counterarguments:
1 - While I do agree that Zhan Tiri does a good job making it seem like she does care about Cassandra, the fact that Cassandra trusted a total stranger for over a year in itself makes her intelligence dubious at best. Not to mention Cassandra never asks the total stranger who mysteriously knows this much about her for her NAME during all that time, nor tries to find out anything else about her.
2 - Rapunzel is the heir to the throne. Of course she’s going to get more recognition than Cassandra. Cassandra herself was given multiple guard assignments throughout Season 1, cheered on by the people of Corona even when she came second place to Rapunzel at the Challenge of the Brave, and trusted with leading the assault against Varian in the season finale. This isn’t even getting into how she has plenty of opportunities at Ingvarr or Vardaros.
3 - The people of Vardaros focused on Rapunzel despite preferring Cassandra over her, yes, but that doesn’t change how they treated Rapunzel like dirt and Cassandra seemed to LIKE that.
4 - In the song I’d Give Anything, Rapunzel does acknowledge she wronged Cassandra.
5 - Just because Cassandra has legitimate grievances, it doesn’t excuse her trying to murder people who never did anything bad to her, which she does several times throughout Season 3.
firstly: i mean this in the kindest way possible but none of these are actually counter-arguments to the point i was making, which is that cassandra has very good reasons for her decision to trust zhan tiri and be emotionally vulnerable with her in the house of yesterday’s tomorrow. #2 is the only one relevant to the subject at hand, #1, #4, and #5 all concern things that happen after the incident being discussed and are thus irrelevant, and for #3 it’s unclear to me what point you think you’re countering and also, i have no idea what you’re talking about.
but as with anything i have plenty of thoughts
#1: i have two thoughts about this one
the first is that this is, first and foremost, a writing issue. for whatever reason, the writing team was not interested in digging into cassandra’s character arc in s3, and they also were not interested in developing zhan tiri as a character, and they really were not interested in elaborating on the cass + zhan tiri friendship whatsoever. the end result of this lack of interest is that all of this character development is gestured at or loosely implied, and the vast majority of their relationship occurs off screen. we are shown their first meeting in relative detail, given a handful of brief glimpses that mostly comprise zhan tiri saying a line or two while cassandra listens and glares, and then given the end result of cass doing whatever zhan tiri tells her to do until a narratively convenient plot device is inserted to make her stop. the character development in this arc is extremely poor. no one is arguing that it isn’t.
however my second thought is that, as a consequence, “cass travels with this person for almost a year without ever asking her name or trying to find out anything about her” is not, in fact, canon. that’s a matter of interpretation. (eg: i spent the entirety of the first half of the season assuming that of course cassandra knew who zhan tiri was, my reaction to CR in this regard boiled down to “well if cass didn’t already know that was zhan tiri she certainly does NOW,” RTTS did nothing to change my mind, and i was legitimately taken aback when OAH confirmed that cass just didn’t know. all of this was a plausible interpretation because so little of the cass + ziti relationship actually develops on screen. there is SO MUCH information missing.)
the point being: the only canonical information we have regarding zhan tiri’s identity and cassandra’s knowledge thereof is that cassandra doesn’t learn zhan tiri’s true identity until OAH. this does not preclude cassandra pressing the issue and zhan tiri lying to her by telling her a fake name, or feigning ignorance (a la “i’ve been trapped in that house for as long as i can remember and i have no idea where i came from or who i was before then,” which is absolutely a plausible cover story given the kind of things tromus pulled off whilst team corona was trapped in the HOYT and that cass herself has very recent experience with magical memory loss), or masquerading as an aspect of the moonstone itself (which is at least plausible enough that a good chunk of the fandom theorized that that’s who she was in the early half of the season).
there is, frankly, no evidence to support interpreting cassandra’s “who are you?” as “i’ve literally never asked this question before” instead of “you told me things about yourself that i believed but it’s not adding up anymore so i’m confronting you on your lies” or vice versa, because... we just don’t know. i personally favor the latter interpretation over the former, because it makes more sense to me, but the text is unclear.
all of which is to say: the post was about why cassandra trusts zhan tiri initially, a questions which - as i said in the original post - is answered very clearly on screen. there is not enough canonical information about the development of their relationship afterwards to do anything more than speculative analysis, ie headcanon, regarding how zhan tiri cultivated that trust. for what it’s worth my personal assumption is that zhan tiri continued to act as she does in RR, fostering the emotional connection between herself and cassandra, and that shortly after the stinger in who’s afraid of the big bad wolf (ie their second proper meeting) she gave cass some explanation of who she was and what she wanted. i also make the general assumption that they shared a lot of conversations during the long walk back to corona because it is ludicrous to imagine otherwise.
#2: cassandra is a commoner who was indoctrinated from birth with the cultural belief that the lives of the royal family are more important and have more inherent worth than her own. this only intensified once rapunzel returned to corona. cassandra exists in a system that chews her up and spits her out without so much as a thank you, and rapunzel is the center around which that system orbits. “rapunzel is the heir to the throne so of course she gets more recognition than cassandra, her servant” isn’t, in fact, a counterargument. that is exactly the problem. the world cass is in is inherently devalues her personhood. even her own father repeatedly prioritizes his duty to the monarchy over the wellbeing of his daughter.
in s1, cass is given guard duties which she is expected to fit around her already extremely busy schedule as a maid and lady-in-waiting to the princess, all without ever being made an actual member of the royal guard. she is given, in other words, all of the work and responsibility without any of the recognition, salary, benefits, or job security afforded to actual guards, and she is expected to do it during her scant time off. and she does it all with the constant unspoken threat of being sent to a convent against her will if she screws up looming over her head. that’s not... privilege or an opportunity, that’s flat out exploitation.
even in SOTS, she is only put in command of the assault on old corona because most of the higher officers of the guard are out of commission, including the captain. and this happens mere hours after her father forcibly sends her to a convent, which really underscores what little autonomy cassandra has in her life and how capricious and arbitrary any “opportunities” that come her way in corona are.
yes, she is better accepted in vardaros and the queen of ingvarr did at one point extend an invitation for her to join the battalion in ingvarr, but—again, that’s not really a counterargument. “cassandra would have to leave her home and move to a foreign kingdom in order to be treated with respect and live as her authentic self” is an enormous indictment of corona itself.
#3: the vardarans are less than receptive to rapunzel attempting to force her sunny demeanor onto them and react with hostile indifference when she persists even after being told—by multiple people including vex, quaid, cassandra, and iirc eugene—that her behavior was not wanted or welcome. they make their opinions known without making any attempt to soften the blow, but—with the one exception of “ya clod” lady—none of them harass or bully her. i’m not sure where you’re getting “they treat her like dirt” from. they treat her like people who are annoyed with having someone else’s culture jammed down their throats by some foreign princess, which,
cass, by the same token, enjoys being surrounded by people she “clicks” with and with whom she can just relax and be herself, and she repeatedly cautions rapunzel against trying to make the vardarans act, think, and feel like coronans... in other words, she advises rapunzel to be culturally sensitive. and she’s right to do so. cass doesn’t start gloating about being better liked until after rapunzel lashes out at her and makes a huge deal out of cass’s events being different / more in tune with vardaran culture than her own.
#4: things rapunzel does a full year after cass meets zhan tiri in the shell house are not relevant to the question of why cass trusts zhan tiri in the shell house and also lol no... she doesn’t? these are the lyrics of i’d give anything:
[RAPUNZEL]
I know we've grown apart
It breaks my heart in two
I miss your company
The closeness we once knew
I won't pretend to know
Just what you're going through
But I'd give anything for you
Yes, I'd give anything to relive everything with you
So if you find that you're in darkness or despair
Though you won't turn to me
Please know I'll be right there
Name any sacrifice
I'll pay the price that's due
'Cause I'd give anything for you
Yes, I'd give anything to relive everything we knew
Yes, I'd give anything
For you
i don’t... know how to read an expression of apology or even just acknowledgement of wrongdoing into this song because it... isn’t there. this is the exact same sentiment rapunzel spends the entirety of s3 expressing, which is that she misses her friendship with cass and would do anything to get it back and she doesn’t understand why cassandra is so upset. and frankly it really. does not reflect well on rapunzel as a character because cassandra explains her grievances very clearly at the beginning of the season: “my whole life, i’ve been cast aside for you. no more,” followed by, you know, the entirety of crossing the line.
like even just... compare rapunzel’s lines at the top of crossing the line:
[RAPUNZEL]
This has to stop now
Whatever it is that you're going through
We'll fix it together, me and you
Just like we've always done
to her lines in i’d give anything:
I won't pretend to know
Just what you're going through
there has been zero growth. zero recognition of the fact that cassandra has, by the time of i’d give anything, told rapunzel what she’s going through at least three times. (she laid everything out for rapunzel in the dark fortress after taking the moonstone; in gothel’s mirror room in TOTS, cassandra expressed her anguish over gothel’s abandonment and her feelings of inferiority; in OAH, cass used feldspar’s play to fumblingly express her difficulty sharing her feelings with rapunzel; and if you want to count the BVA rock telepathy and cassandra furiously screaming “i don’t follow your orders anymore!” in CR, that brings us to a total of five times that cassandra shares at least part of what she’s “going through” with rapunzel only for it to, apparently, go in one ear and out the other because by plus est raps is still like “what could POSSIBLY be GOING ON with cass.”)
the closest rapunzel ever comes to expressing her own wrongdoing is the mealy-mouthed “we both did things wrong” sentiment in OAH (“maybe you’re right and it is your fault, rapunzel... partially...”), which she then undermines by going essentially “but if you had just told me how you felt then none of this would have happened” (ignoring that cass... did... tell her how she felt... repeatedly... in s2...) and rapunzel acknowledging that it was probably annoying to deal with a sunny “flower child” when she was fresh out of the tower (which is true, but entirely glosses over her treatment of cass in s2). in the former instance it’s unclear what, if anything, rapunzel truly thinks she did wrong (certainly “not listening” isn’t it), and in the latter case she is apologizing for being ~too free-spirited~ in the first couple weeks after the tower which... wasn’t even the problem back then and certainly wasn’t the core problem in s2. and by her own admission in i’d give anything rapunzel still doesn’t even understand why cassandra was upset in the first place, let alone how she may have contributed to it.
like the utter dearth of development between cass and zhan tiri, this is ultimately a writing problem that reflects poorly on the character, rather than a character problem per se. for whatever reason, the writing team didn’t want to examine the legitimacy of cassandra’s actual grievances—which by extension meant that they couldn’t write rapunzel as having any awareness of those grievances, so the end result is cass obsessing over gothel and rapunzel spending the entire season baffled, just baffled, about what cass is so worked up about, all while sadly pining for the friendship they used to have and vocalizing a desire to get it back but simultaneously ignoring everything cass says about why she’s upset, because rapunzel listening to cass would require rapunzel to genuinely wrestle with her own role in what happened, which isn’t possible because that would loop us back around to all those legitimate grievances that the writers just didn’t want to (or couldn’t) deal with.
but tldr no at no point in the narrative of s3 does rapunzel genuinely acknowledge the actual things she did wrong by cass.
#5: i’m genuinely not sure why you think this is even relevant at all, unless you somehow read “cass did nothing wrong” into the argument of “it is both natural and reasonable for cass to trust the one (1) person who appears to give a damn about how she feels,” which i think says more about you than it does about me.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lasabrjotr Chapter 76: Interlocking Horns
Chapters: 76/?
Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: pg
Relationships: Loki x Reader
Characters: Loki (Marvel),
Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Culture Clash Imminent, Protective Dad
Summary: You and your father discuss your living situation, and you mull over your thoughts on Buridag.
Loki was agitated when he lay beside you that night. You'd spent most of the evening showing Tara and your father around to all the places you spent your time. The library, the training grounds, the courtyards, the banquet halls, the common rooms, and even the throne room, which was empty at the time. Over dinner, you told sanitized versions of your adventures; the battle with the Huldra and the Frost Giant, The magical illusion lessons, and the magic you were also capable of, how you had exploded a plate, and met the legendary Sleipnir, whom Tara demanded to see as soon as possible. You showed them your knife, and told them about your armor, and your glorious helmet.
Your father was not terribly impressed by the food. “Not enough seasonings.” he declared, and you told him about the time you'd pranked Loki by putting chili pepper in his meal. He got a good laugh out of your description of the composed prince turning purple, and trying to pretend to all onlookers that everything was just fine.
“Hope he didn't get mad at you.” Tara said.
“Nah. The thing about Loki is that he actually appreciates it when you get the best of him. He likes getting legitimately got. I get the feeling he had to deal with a lot of sycophants growing up, while at the same time being overshadowed in everything he did. Loki can sense lies, did you know that? He can just tell when you're lying. Imagine growing up surrounded by people who don't even like you, but will constantly lie to your face about it. And keep doing it even after they know you can tell they're lying. And they're still doing it! It's wild! Some of these aristocrats are stupidly bigoted, and they keep trying to fool Thor or Loki into making laws that exclude humans from things, but both of them have personal reasons not to do that, as well as political reasons. I mean, there's seven billion of us, we're not gonna be excluded from anything on this planet, and it's ludicrous to even try. But I guess they've been at this for so long, that they can't even think of doing things any differently.
That's part of where I come in. Loki says I represent an inevitability. That humans like us will come to be a part of Asgard, just like the Vanir and Alfar did before us. Some of these nobles want to put that off as long as possible, but I think Loki and Thor are right; better get that integration started early.”
“Then why is there only you?” your father pointed out, “Why not integrate more humans in a group? Why not those people in the weird lodges outside the city?”
“Couple reasons.” you said, “first off, I think they wanted to make sure humans and Asgardians could be culturally compatible. Like, that we could stand to live with one another.”
“Yeah, saw some of that cultural compatibility just a little while ago.” your father grumbled.
“We used to do stuff like that too, you know. And until recently, too. I think there's still some places that do dowries and such, just not us. But if you think about it, Asgardians live to be thousands of years old, and they used to visit Earth a lot. There was cultural exchange for sure. It's just that we change and evolve culturally at the speed of light compared to them. He really should have asked me about it though, I coulda told him it didn't work that way. He does love surprises, and he wants to preserve his culture, but we could have at least discussed it.”
“You discuss things with him? And he listens?”
“Sometimes. That's a part of my job too; advising, on human matters especially. That's why he should have asked, but I think he just really wanted to impress you.”
Your father rolled his eyes. You sighed. This was going to be difficult.
“Dad, this is so important. Doing this for me is unprecedented. I know it doesn't look like it, but we've been working hard, and dealing with some tough situations, but we've come through them all, and kept going. He's proud of me, I'm proud of me, and I am okay with my life here. I'm happy with it even. I miss you, and I know you miss me, but I like my work here.”
“You've almost died three times! In one year! Three times! Keeping you alive is the most basic possible thing, and he's almost failed three times!” he exclaimed.
“His only fault is not seeing the future, then!” You exclaimed back. “Who could predict that a crazy man would come all the way out here to try and assassinate literally anyone he saw? Who could expect that one of their own people would be so monumentally stupid as to hit me right in front of him? Why would anyone ever think that there were giants sleeping under our feet for a thousand years? How could anyone plan for any of that?”
“You're starting to talk like them, you know.” Tara pointed out. “You're picking up the accent. Your vocabulary's changed.”
“I've been studying a lot. I hadn't noticed the accent though. Is it very obvious?”
“Eh, it's no big deal. If you'd just moved here on your own, you'd probably sound kinda Icelandic anyway. I just think it's cute, you sounding like all these high-falutin', fancy alien folks.”
You wanted to thank her. For years and years, when you and your father had started arguing, she would brazenly interrupt with something completely off topic, and completely derail the dispute. Your father was as passionate an individual as you were, which was probably where you got it in the first place, but Tara had always known when to interject.
“The point is,” you said, much more calmly, “is that the world has gotten weird. And since I've been studying, I've been finding out that it was weird in the past too. We've just been coasting by on a short period of relative calm, but it's not going to last forever. In fact, it's over. There is an entire alien species living on Earth now. Nobody has to like them, but they are here. Loki can't demand forgiveness, and he's told me he's prepared to accept that there may be people who never accept him, no matter what he does. But he is doing things. He's doing good for his people; he knows how to do that. He's trying to do his best by me, and I'm helping him to know how to do that. I clearly need to communicate with him a bit more about that. He doesn't have to do any of this, but he chose to. From the beginning, he chose to do this. I mean, don't get me wrong, he sucked at it in the beginning; he had no idea what he was doing. He was kind of an overbearing creep, and when I got hurt the first time, I swear, he was inches away from locking me away in a closet somewhere so no one else could hurt me.”
Your father raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, he totally freaked out. I had to convince him that there was no way he could protect me from everything, but he sure wanted to. I wasn't gonna let that happen though. Maybe I can't leave, but I haven't let this place become a prison either.”
“Baby girl, I'm proud of you, don't ever think I'm not, but a father really never cares for a man who takes his daughter away.” your father said, “I don't think he deserves your defense. But you seem happy, and that's what I'm supposed to care most about right? I'm not gonna be his friend, but I'm not gonna cause trouble while I'm here, for your sake, and also because I gotta represent humanity, right? I love you, and I'm not trying to ride your case, I just don't like that guy. I'm not as forgiving as you are. But I'm not gonna get into a public fight with him or anything.”
“Thanks. And hey, I'm not gonna demand that you be friends with all my friends, I just have a really big day looming over me, and I'm already stressed. But, like, if you have any questions, now is probably the best time.”
“Oh, I got a few!” Tara said. “What actually is wrong with you?”
“Uh, loaded question.”
“No, no. I mean, yeah, but no. I mean, you said these guys were taking care of your medical problems, but you never actually said what they were. Have they figured out what's going on?”
“Ehhh, kinda. It's not exactly a medical problem. It's this.” You held out your hand, showing the mark. “You know how we couldn't figure out what caused this? It's magical in nature.”
“You told me you got drunk and got a tattoo!” your father accused.
“What was I supposed to say? I didn't know what had happened at the time! I didn't even know it was Loki I had grabbed, I didn't find that out until later. Tara saw: I took his hand to get his attention, and this shape burned into my palm. It did the same to him, I found out. It made us both sick. But when we're close together, we heal. Even when I got hurt, being close heals me faster. This is also what woke up my magic. It was always there, but this was what made it accessible. The whole thing is just magic. The only thing we don't really know is why it happened.”
“Magic. It's so weird.” your father said. “It just doesn't make any sense. What is magic? How do you do it?”
“It's a kind of energy manipulation. Like electricity or solar power, but it's less generalized. Like, some things are actual spells that always work the same way, but I haven't learned much of that yet. Gotta get my specific magic under control first. I'm getting pretty good at it. I do it by...well, it feels a certain way. So I concentrate on feeling like that...”
A bowl of apples disappeared from the end of the table, and reappeared in your hands. Both Tara and your father leaned away in surprise as you set the bowl back on the table.
“I move things from one place to another. I don't know the upper limit on size or distance yet. Maybe someday I will move mountains.”
“Does that scare you?” your father asked. “All this magic stuff?”
“Sometimes. It's so strange to think that it's me doing this, and not some woman in a book, or a movie. That it's really real. Even after everything that's happened over the past few years, it's still hard to really understand that all this is real. That every single person you've seen here is hundreds of years older than you, and was born light years away, in space, on a whole other world. That they have millions of years of history that I'm learning about. Some of these people remember a time before the language we are speaking even existed.”
“That's freaky.” Tara said.
“Don't I know it. But somehow, they manage to live in the moment in a way I find kinda enviable. They're looking to the future, but they aren't worried about it like I used to be. It's so liberating not to have to worry about that. About rent, or healthcare, or who's gonna take care of me when I get old, or if I'm even gonna get old. All of that has been lifted off of me, and I'm free to study and learn, and be something unique, and I actually really like it.”
“I'm glad for you.” Tara said. “So who's your tailor?”
You giggled. “I'm super fashionable, for someone a thousand years ago, aren't I? This isn't actually Asgardian fashion, exactly. It's more of a fusion. Isn't it fancy?”
“It's freakin' gorgeous. Is it some kind of uniform?”
“It didn't start out that way, but it sorta became that. The seamstresses hadn't visited Earth in like, a thousand years, so all the illustrations and memories they had were from then or before. So at first they thought that must be how I was supposed to be dressed, and then it just became my signature. It's really comfy, and pretty, and most importantly, it's warm. I mean, I know the place is called Iceland, but I was still surprised at how cold it gets. If you want, I bet I could get you some.”
Tara went to bed happy, and your father went to bed grumpy, but quiet. Then you went to bed, and Loki slunk under the thick blankets with you, holding you uneasily.
He got like this occasionally, cradling you as if he feared you would disappear in the night. It wasn't any real surprise, when you thought about some of the things he'd been through, the abandonment, the loss. You knew he wasn't, and would never be perfect, but you were still prepared to defend him to all comers. You weren't going to vanish from his arms, but you'd probably have to prove it every night. You could do that. You were more than willing to; there hadn't been another man in your life that had made you feel so safe and comfortable when sleeping, and you wanted to keep that feeling.
Tomorrow was the first day of Buridag festivities. Loki said it would start out with a parade that would lead to the site of the new courthouse. There would be traditional poetry and song, and everyone would perform the building task that had been assigned to them weeks ago. Then there would be the First Feast; a meal composed of worker's foods, prettied up for the nobles palettes. You'd seen the menu; it was grain salads and porridges, hearty soups and rustic breads with eggs, jams, young cheeses, winter vegetables, dried fruit, and herbs and spices in approximation with traditional Asgardian flavors. It was a reminder that, in Buri's day, Asgard's prosperity had not been assured, and many of the working class had to make do with rougher fare. Supposedly, the First Feast was meant to rebuke those who took workers for granted, and remind everyone whose hands had built their world.
Personally you thought that was a little patronizing, but you also didn't come from a monarchical culture. Perhaps this was something like an Asgardian Saturnalia, a festival of transformation. A celebration of something being built from nothing, Asgard being built by Asgardian hands.
And yours. Loki and Thor would be laying the foundations and blessing them with some of their more ephemeral power, the thing that awoke the primordial fear in you, made you instinctively cower and search for a tree to hide in when Loki became truly angry. The power that was beyond magic, that reached into the divine.
You, however, had been assigned a brick. It was a decorative brick, that would line a window, and it lay in a stack of other window-bricks at the site. Just one piece of a huge community project. You rather liked that. You knew for sure that the aristocracy did not engage with the common Asgardian nearly often enough before the tragedy of Ragnarok, but now both Loki and Thor went out among their people often, nobles and commoners mingled every day, and the community was becoming less and less divided. There were people who resisted that, of course. People who wanted to claw back every ounce of their perceived power, who tried to pass deliberately discriminatory legislation, people who simply hadn't yet come to accept that their lives had changed.
You were change. Loki was very approving about it. You represented the New, the Necessary Change, the Social Upheaval that led to a Bright Future. You couldn't help but wonder if that was too big for you to carry all by yourself. On the one hand, you weren't exactly alone; Loki was beside you all the way, Andsvarr, Saldis and the Valkyries supported you, even down to the twins. Saga, and even the strange Lofn approved of you.
On the other hand, your father was right; you were still the only human who actually lived here. The first and only human with Asgardian citizenship. A trial run, essentially alone, to see if you, as a stand-in for all humankind, could make it. It was heavy.
But you were doing it. In a little less than a year, you had learned a great deal of Asgardian history and law, had helped actual royalty with things like resource management and policy reform, learned knifework, learned actual magic! You had met several of Earth's greatest heroes, were going to be titled, were becoming a liaison between Asgard and the human settlements growing next door. You had learned some Asgardian, become a prince's lover, and even learned how to play a drum. You yourself were becoming something new. Embodying the Necessary Change.
And maybe that was what you had needed in the first place. For so long, it seemed like you had been trying to let go of an old self, let go of everything you'd gone through. Shed your old skin and emerge, clean and soft into the light of a new day. And so you were. You just hadn't realized that once you started, it would happen again and again, skin after skin, quivering and raw. But you felt new. Despite the pressure, you felt new.
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
(Please answer asap) i came out as bi to my Catholic parents and they did not react very well, my mom especially. She keeps saying that I don't have enough experience and they don't want to drift apart from me and how she doesn't understand how I can be okay with something so disgusting. She keeps bringing up how uncomfortable she is thinking about intimacy between me and another girl and how I'm too good for something like that. She says she believes that God never makes mistakes and that's making me feel like a mistake. I'm stuck at home and I don't know what to do, I feel so awkward around everyone and I always feel like crying. They don't want us to drift apart but I feel more disconnected from everyone than before
cw: non-accepting parents, homophobia, biphobia
Oh anon, I am so sorry for your pain. What a terrible situation for your parents to put you in. You deserve all the love and acceptance in the world, and it’s so sad your parents aren’t giving that to you right now.
You are not alone in this isolating experience -- there are a lot of others in your shoes right now, stuck living with people who say harmful LGBT-phobic things to them. Here’s a post from someone else in such a situation, that includes links to posts that might help you.
_________
To start by addressing some of your parents’ comments:
If your parents say they don’t want y’all to drift apart...
...and then say things to you that make you feel like a mistake or disgusting...any drifting apart that occurs is 100% on them. They are the ones damaging the relationship by saying such hurtful things! This is a them problem, not a you problem; you’ve done nothing wrong.
.
My wife has this same issue with some of her relatives, even after all these years; but she luckily doesn’t live with any of them anymore so it’s easier for her to set boundaries and refuse to engage with them if they pull that nonsense. Her response when she did still live with parents who did this was to tell them she would leave the room any time they said any such things -- that she just would not engage.
.
But yeah, you sharing an aspect of yourself is not the problem in the relationship -- it’s their reactions and cruel comments. I know that doesn’t necessarily make it easier to deal with, especially when your stuck at home with them, but do know this: no matter what they say about your sexuality, you are good. You are so beloved by God just as you are, sexuality included.
You are not a mistake.
You were fashioned with deep love and purpose by the very same God who created a cosmos brimming with diversity -- with stars and galaxies of myriad sizes and shapes, with this earth teeming with millions of species of animals and plants and fungi and more....
.
God doesn’t make mistakes, and God made you bi! God made you bi with purpose: maybe that purpose is so that one day you can connect to others in our wonderful lgbt+ community who will be you friends and family; maybe to nurture compassion in you for those who are othered in our world; maybe to bring you expansive insight into what it means to love and to be human....
.
You don’t have to understand just yet why God made you this way. Just know that you are beautiful and beloved just as you are -- and that God wills your flourishing, not this pain your parents are bringing to you. While biphobia is a source of pain, bisexuality is not -- it can and it will one day help you bring good fruit to your life and to others.
You are not disgusting.
In our culture full of media that treats lgbt characters as the butt of a joke or as predatory and perverted, many people absorb the idea that same-sex sexual activities are more disgusting and less appropriate than “hetero” sexual activities. But again, your mom’s feelings of disgust are a her problem, not a you problem.
.
Having a disgusted reaction does not alway mean the thing you are reacting to is immoral -- it often means you’ve been taught that it’s immoral or wrong. There have been many studies on disgust and moral judgment -- the assumption if your gut reaction is disgust then the thing is immoral. Scientists are studying this more to see how to combat it better. For me and my own internalized homophobia, normalizing queer relationships helped me -- the more I saw them, the more I was able to peel off the prejudices I’d absorbed that told me to be repulsed and see those relationships as toxic; instead I saw the same kind of healthy love was possible in lgbt relationships as in cishet ones.
Reminding yourself of your own goodness in the face of cruelty is really hard, but vital. I’ve got a #God calls us good tag and an #affirmation tag that you might find encouragement and hope going through.
_________
On top of all that, I can think of several routes you can take here. None are ideal honestly, and there are probably other options I’m not thinking of, but do your best to choose the one that feels safest and most comfortable to you. You know yourself and your situation better than anyone else.
Tell your parents that you’ve thought about it and agree you’re too young or whatnot to know you’re bi, and you’re going to put it aside for now. E.g, retreat back into the closet as best you can.
I know how much that fricking sucks. But if it makes your day to day life while you’re stuck in this house a little more livable, it’s a viable option. It’s what my wife went with for a little while -- she let them believe that she and I had officially broken up when...we had not. She did that because otherwise living with them would have been unbearable.
If you feel bad about having to lie to return to relative safety, God wills your safety above all else. There are quite a few instances in scripture of people lying to protect themselves or others.
If you do this route, here is a post with advice for getting by while closeted while living with non-affirming family.
.
Next option is to ask your parents to please try to at least be a little more open than they are. Ask them if they’d be willing to read a book, or even talk to a counselor if you can find one, or reach out to an organization like PFLAG for guidance.
You know your own parents better than I can and whether this option sounds at all possible. Do you think they could potentially be open to learning more -- if not completely becoming affirming than at least trying to understand your point of view better? Maybe, maybe not. The big risk with this route is that the answer is no and they become more aggressive against you after you try this route.
This book, Building a Bridge: How the Catholic Church and the LGBT Community Can Enter into a Relationship of Respect, Compassion, and Sensitivity, might be a good starting point for your parents -- it’s by a Catholic priest!
Some other book options to offer non-affirming Christian parents can be found in this post.
.
Another option is to set boundaries with your parents (similar to what my wife currently does with her parents). You can appeal to their own professed desire not to “drift apart” here. Tell them that you are hurt by their response to your sexuality and are not willing to discuss it more with them or be in the room while they say painful things. And then enforce that: if one of them makes a comment about bisexuality being discussing for example, leave the room.
Again, context here -- you know your parents better; will they react to you leaving a room like this violently? try to physically restrain you? If so, this is probably not a good route.
.
In all of these options, starting to plan for the future where you no longer have to live with your parents is smart. Are you able to save up money, even if only a little bit at a time, that they don’t have access to? Look for schooling options that involve living on a campus, etc.? Even reaching out to relatives or friends you know to be more accepting if you have any to see if any would be willing to let you visit if/whenever your parents are being especially hurtful.
______
One day, you’re going to find an affirming community where you feel safe and welcome, where you can meet other bisexuals and hear their stories. For now, hang in there! Your situation is hard, but it is temporary, and I promise you, God is on your side and loving you through it all.
If anyone else has advice or encouragement for anon, or has feedback on one of the options I offered up (especially if one sounds like a Bad Idea), please do share.
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
April 11, 2021: Tootsie (1982) (Recap)
To be clear, I like Dustin Hoffman.
I can’t exactly claim that I’ve seen him in a lot of his most iconic roles, but I’m planning on fixing that this year for sure! On my to-watch list this year and beyond is Midnight Cowboy, Kramer vs. Kramer, Stranger Than Fiction, and Marathon Man at the very least.
But that’s not to say I haven’t seen him in other iconic roles of his, of course. Fun fact: I actually tried to do this project in 2019, and it...didn’t work. But, one of the films I watched that year was one of Hoffman’s most iconic dramatic films: Rain Man.
Oh, and by the way, that movie is not about an autistic man. Or, rather, it’s not based on a man diagnosed with one of the autism spectrum disorders. Instead, he actually most likely had a genetic disorder called FG syndrome, unrelated to the spectrum disorders. Ironic, since Hoffman’s character was the pop-cultural depiction of autism that people STILL refer to quite often, and quite inaccurately. But, obviously, that’s not Hoffman’s fault, and he was good in the movie, to be fair.
I grew up with him in Hook, as the pirate captain himself (I still do his laugh sometimes, it’s weird, I know). He had an underappreciated starring role in one of my favorite guilty-pleasure films, Outbreak (I fucking love that movie, and I’m not ashamed to admit that). He was in Finding Neverland, but I just forgot about that until I looked up his filmography to write this intro. And, of course...Master Shifu.
So, yeah, I actually DO like Dustin Hoffman, despite the fact that his role in The Graduate wasn’t stellar for me. Just seemed kinda miscast, and a little too awkward to be even slightly sympathetic. Then again, he wasn’t really meant to be, so maybe Hoffman was the perfect choice. Even then, he still acted well in it.
And anyway, I watched that movie for two major reasons. One, it was on my list of films to see, and TWO: it was a lead-up to the ACTUAL Hoffman film I wanted to watch this month: Tootsie. After all, I just watched rom-com Some Like It Hot, and if you’ve looked at me schedule, you know what film is coming next. So, this one fits in my planned schedule. Why? Well...there’s a theme.
Yup. I actually picked these movies for a reason. See, here’s the thing: this is a repeated trope in comedies, and I’ve always wondered whether or not it’s...problematic. But, much to my surprise with Some Like It Hot, they actually used the situation to comment on the female experience. I mean, not necessarily really well, but they tried at the very least. And for a film from 1959, that ain’t bad!
Which isn’t to say that it’s entirely clean, of course, but it was far better than I’d expected. So, if 1959 did that OK, how did 1982 do? Let’s find out, shall we?
SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
Recap
Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman) is an acting coach, as well as being an actor himself. However, he’s not the most successful actor, as he keeps attempting to audition for pieces, only to get refused for nebulous reasons, or refuses them when he disagrees with the director. He might want to take his own advice, for the record.
In the meantime, he works in a restaurant with Jeff Slater (Bill Murray), a playwright and roommate. That night, the night of his birthday, he spends time with an actress friend, Sandy Lester (Teri Garr), and also hits on the majority of women there that night.
As the party concludes, and various people go home, Sandy is abandoned by her date, and Michael offers to take her home. She breaks down crying, and Michael guesses that she’s upset about an upcoming audition. He gives her some coaching advice, and manages to get her to produce the correct emotion for the role. Afraid that she’ll lose it without him, he agrees to accompany her to the audition and enrage her. It’s very funny.
That morning, however, she IMMEDIATELY gets kicked out of the audition, as she wasn’t right for the part. However, when he goes to help her by speaking with an actor on the show, he finds out that the actor is off the show, and is instead getting a part that MICHAEL was supposed to get. Now enraged himself, he goes to speak with his agent, George Fields (Sydney Pollack), and the two have a tense conversation. It’s revealed that because of his difficult nature, he has a terrible reputation in acting circles, and literally nobody will hire him.
Challenge accepted.
Now dressed up as a woman named “Dorothy Michaels”, he goes back to the audition that passed on Sandy. Like her, he’s also immediately rejected by the director, Ron Carlisle (Dabney Coleman), who insists that she’s too “gentile” for the part of a hospital administrator. This causes “Dorothy” to go off, in a righteous monologue that accuses Ron for conflating power with masculinity. Which...yeah, he totally is, and DAMN, it’s a good tell-off!
Producer Rita Marshall (Doris Belack) agrees, and invites “Dorothy” to read for the part. He comes in to read, and in the process meets Julie Nichols (Jessica Lange), to whom he’s IMMEDIATELY attracted. He brushes that off, and the audition commences. From there, he gets the part, which is a regular part on a soap opera called Southwest General.
Now fully invested in the dumbest idea anybody’s ever had, “Dorothy” goes to her agent and tells him the ridiculous news, and asks for $1000 to go shopping for more clothing. Back at their apartment, Michael speaks to Jeff about the whole situation. He notes that he’s doing this to get the money for his play in Syracuse, which requires $8000 to produce.
Sandy is to be cast in this play, which is an issue, as they now need to explain where the money came from, as it’s technically from the part that SHE was refused for, which would hurt her feelings. He lies and says that the money’s from a deceased relative. While in her place, and while she’s in the shower, he decides to try on some of her clothes to get ideas for Dorothy. But when she walks in on him, he lies AGAIN and says that he’s sexually attracted to her. And she reciprocates IMMEDIATELY, which leads to an unintended relationship.
On the set, “Dorothy” finds out that he’ll be kissing John Van Horn (George Gaynes), an older actor who’s clearly a bit past his prime, and makes it a point to kiss every actress on the set when they start on the show. Gross. Michael agrees, and when the scene comes, he improvises and has his character (Emily) hit the doctor instead.
While the director (who’s a DICK, by the way) notes the improvisation, he approves of it, while also discouraging any similar actions in the future, and calling her “toots”. “Dorothy” takes it, rather than talks back. John compliments her on the improvisation, and then kisses “Dorothy” anyway, much to Michael’s shock!
We also find out that Julie, who plays a nurse on the show, is dating director Ron. Later on, though, Michael observes him making out with another actress on stage. Shortly after this, Julie invites “Dorothy” to dinner at her place, which is eagerly accepted. At dinner, we find out that Julie has a young daughter and that her relationship with Ron is...not stellar.
They have a discussion about being a woman in the ‘80s, and the complexities inherent in that concept, which is an interesting theme of this movie! Gotta say, this is a more socially-conscious version of Some Like It Hot, and I really like that! But the conversation is cut short when Michael realizes that he’d promised dinner with Sandy that night, and leaves in a hurry.
Dinner with Sandy is awkward, as Sandy is...Sandy is a lot, to be honest. But, she tells Michael that the woman hired in her stead on the soap opera (who is, of course, Michael himself), is written as a wimp, rather than tough as intended, and that she should change that. Michael agrees, and actively goes against the script to make the character of Emily far tougher. and essentially a feminist.
While this causes some grief to Ron and Rita at first, Dorothy Michaels soon becomes a massively successful and popular actress on the show, and her popularity absolutely explodes. Michael’s wrapped up in the success of Dorothy Michaels, and thinks that she might be able to branch outside of the role of the soap opera. Which is difficult, as his agent points out, because of the simple fact that Michael is...well, Michael.
At a party that his agent invites him to, Michael meets Julie AS MICHAEL. He uses a line on her that she’d mentioned before to Dorothy, only to be met with a drink to the face. Which is fair, as the line was about being honest about wanting to have sex with her, so I get it.
On the set soon afterwards, we see that the show is becoming more progressive, allowing Julie’s nurse character to stand up to John’s chief doctor character. After the scene is done, the director once again calls Dorothy “toots” instead of her real name, and Dorothy absolutely snaps back at him, and rightfully so! In response, Julie goes and invites Dorothy to a weekend in the country, on her father’s farm. Despite some rebuke from Jeff for lying to Sandy AND Julie, Michael as “Dorothy” goes on the trip.
This, by the way, is an excellent time to mention that this film is exuding some real strong, uh, vibes. You know...alphabet mafia vibes. Like, it’s definitely there, heavily leaning towards Julie. Obviously, “Dorothy” is actually the heterosexual Michael, but that’s not helping, just saying. And there’s literally (and absolutely obviously) nothing wrong with that, but it’s so strong at this point that it’s hard to ignore.
On the farm, “Dorothy” meets Les Nichols (Charles Durning), Julie’s lonely and genuinely nice father, if a bit old-fashioned in his views on gender politics. He’s also got the hots for “Dorothy”, which is funny-but-awkward as shit. That night, Julie tells “Dorothy” some very personal things about her dreams as a child, which is a genuinely very sweet scene. And can I just say, that this movie is both funny and quite heartfelt? I love it! Also, again, the vibes...THE VIBES.
Meanwhile, the popularity of “Dorothy” continues to skyrocket, to the frustration of director Ron, but to the delight of producer Rita, who decides to extend her contract with the soap opera by a full year! Oh FUCK! Realizing what the hell he’s gotten himself into, Michael calls his agent, who tells him that it was in his contract, meaning he’s basically fucked.
Jeff also tries to help hi, out of it, to no avail. Just then, though, they get a call from Julie, looking for “Dorothy”. She’s been having her doubts about her relationship with Ron, and she realizes that she’s been settling for Ron and other men like him. And Dorothy’s inspired her to be a better person, and to be honest with others and with herself. Fuckin’ OOF.
Just then, Ron arrives, allowing them some alone time, as Julie is getting ready for their night out. In the process, “Dorothy” reveals that she knows about his indiscretions with other women. Ron proceeds to use the EXACT SAME EXCUSE that Michael used to excuse his lies to Sandy, and it’s well-executed! Good job, writers, that’s pretty awesome.
“Dorothy” promises to watch Julie’s daughter for the night, which proves a bit of an issue, but he works it out. Julie returns later on, having broken up with Ron. Another heart-to-heart ensues, but this one is concluded with a revelation that Julie is lonely, despite the fact that she appreciates Dorothy’s influence and friendship. And then, "Dorothy” tries to kiss Julie. OH
Yeah, Julie’s not exactly chuffed about this as, despite a LOT of “Sappho and her friends” vibes, she doesn’t actually swing that way. “Dorothy” tries to explain, but this is interrupted by a call from Julie’s dad! He asks her out on a date that night, and “Dorothy” accepts. On said date, he FUCKIN’ PROPOSES TO HER! She promises to think about it, and takes the fuck OFF.
And to continue the parade of “Fuck me, I guess” that marching down Michael Street, who should show up at the apartment but John, from the show! Having followed her home the previous night (YIKES BUDDY), he literally serenades her outside of the apartment window, before “Dorothy” lets him in. It’s there that he reveals he’s MADLY in lust with her, and it’s HILARIOUSLY awkward. Thankfully, just as John is forcing himself on her, Jeff walks in on them, interrupting John’s actions, and causing him to leave in shame.
AND FUCKING THEN, after all of that, Sandy arrives at the apartment to find out why Michael’s not returned her phone calls. And Sandy’s a lot, sure, but all of her concerns are completely valid and legitimate. And despite Michael’s impressive ability to lie, he tells her the truth: he’s in love with another woman. Which she absolutely freaks the fuck out about, but whatever, not like Michael doesn’t deserve that.
Having had it with all the drama around Dorothy’s life, he goes to his agent and hilariously recounts to him the whole series of events that’s taken place. Still struggling to find a way to get out of the situation, he goes to work the next day, for an awkward conversation with Julie. She thanks Dorothy for inspiring her to be true to herself, which cuts DEEP, but still says that they shouldn’t spend time together anymore.
Producer Rita arrives with news: the erasure of a reel of footage has forced them to shoot a scene live. Said scene involves a party being thrown for Dorothy’s characters, putting her in the starring role. And THAT is when Michael takes his chance. Dorothy improvises a monologue about Emily’s REAL past, as a twin who tragically died before realizing her dream to become a hospital administrator. Ripping off his disguise, Michael reveals himself as Emily’s twin brother, Edward!
Everyone on stage and at home is SHOCKED, especially Les, John, Sandy, and of course, Julie. And once the cameras stop rolling, Julie now understands everything. She walks right up to Michael...AND PUNCHES HIM IN THE DICK
John asks if Jeff knows, and I break in half laughing.
Months pass. Michael was able to fund Jeff’s play in Syracuse, and goes to meet Les, who lives in the area. The two make amends after an understandably awkward reunion, and they begin the journey to become friends after everything. This prompts Michael to return to the city and speak with Julie, who is...less than happy to see him. Which, yeah, entirely fair.
But, again overcoming the initial awkwardness, Julie is able to admit that she misses her friend Dorothy. And Michael reciprocates, speaking for Dorothy, who is...well, him. He says the following great line:
I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man.
And from there...the two decide to rekindle a friendship, with Julie asking to borrow one of Michael’s dresses. And y’know...I’m rooting for those crazy kids.
That’s Tootsie! And, uh...I love it! I LOVE it. I actually think this is a great film, and one of the best I’ve seen this month. But I’ll elaborate...in the Review! See you there!
#tootsie#sydney pollack#dustin hoffman#jessica lange#teri garr#dabney coleman#doris belack#charles durning#bill murray#george gaynes#geena davis#comedy april#user365#365days365movies#365 movie challenge#365 movies 365 days#365 Days 365 Movies#365 movies a year#usercori#userleo#bbelcher
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok so I freaking love belly rubs and now that we’ve seen Shayne receive a belly rub I want to see it reversed 😂 Charlie has an upset stomach for some reason and realizes that he just really needs to burp but he can’t and all day long the feeling just gets worse until he’s finally home and can lay down but still nothing will come up and when Shayne shows up and he lets him through the window he immediately knows something is wrong (p 1 of 2)
(P 2 of 2) somehow Charlie convinced him to help him by rubbing his stomach which of course helps and he burps into his fist a couple of times but it’s not releasing the pressure at all, actually it’s making him feel nauseous and before he knows it he suddenly vomits all over him and Shayne ( I know this doesn’t really fit with the plot you’ve got since the ending of the last fic with Shayne but i didn’t know how to make it fit 😂 you can ignore this prompt if ya want lol)
Milo, thank you, thank you, thank you. I had so much fun writing this. Baby’s first prompt.
Sorry if this is obnoxiously long; I have no idea how to judge length yet.
CW: vomiting
In the pub
Charlie had zoned out hours ago, upon realising that the three-year age gap between him and his oldest cousins meant a lot more when he was eighteen and they were fifteen. Whatever pop culture they were chatting about held no interest for him, and whatever gossip his parents, aunts, and uncles were engaging him would likely be just as boring.
He wished he could have gone and talked to Jonathan. He hadn’t seen his half-brother in months, yet he’d barely wanted to speak two words with Charlie all day. He’d brought two friends along, which Aunt Pauline had been annoyed about at the start of the day. She had gotten over it; Charlie, however, had not. The three of them had been skulking outdoors in the smoking area for hours.
Although, if he’d been given first pick, Charlie would have been chatting to been the pretty bartender with the gold lip ring. The guy looked run off his feet, yet had a smile for every one of Charlie’s relatives who had an order to bark at him, be it a chocolate-stained little cousin or his cane-wielding grandmother. He was so cute, but Charlie was too nervous to even look him in the eye. He also felt slightly… guilty, though he could think of no rational reason why he should feel guilty. He wasn’t spoken for by anyone; not even close. And that just made him sink further into his loneliness.
So, with no conversational opportunity, Charlie had occupied himself with the bar food that came out in waves. He didn’t often eat greasy food at home, and he ate exactly like a kid let loose in a store full of chicken goujons and potato wedges. His stomach started to feel kind of sloshy at one point, but that might have been from copious amounts of fizzy orange. More food would surely soak it up and settle everything down.
After the cute waiter dropped off a tray of drinks at the “adult” table, Charlie’s dad stood up and took a glass over to where Charlie was sitting.
“There you are, designated driver,” Trevor said. His cheeks were flushed red from drinking for pretty much the whole day.
“Thanks, Dad,” Charlie said, fidgeting with the keys in his hoodie pocket. “Can we go soon? I’m getting tired.”
“Of course. Last drink and we’ll hit the road,” Trevor winked, giving Charlie’s shoulder a squeeze. “You really are a blessing, son.”
He couldn’t tell if the flutter in his chest was because of the waiter still, or because of what his dad had just said. It might also have been indigestion, though he wouldn’t think of that until a little later.
“Maybe go and say goodbye to Jonathan before we head off, yeah?”
“Alright, Dad.” A blessing, he thought as his father went back to the proper adult table and sat next to his wife. Their half-demon offspring is a blessing to them. Part of him wanted to burst out laughing, the other half wanted to weep. He hovered somewhere in between, smiling despite the tightness in his chest.
He guzzled a few mouthfuls of the fizzy drink, stealing his courage as he stood up and went to talk to Jonathan.
In the car
The drive home itself was exhausting. Charlie’s energy was already spent after a whole day of socialising. His stomach was making some awful sounds, though it felt lazy and sluggish inside him after being fed such little amounts so many times throughout the day. The flavour of the fizzy orange kept repeating on him too, and he vowed never to touch the stuff again. He glanced over to see that his dad had fallen asleep against the passenger door. In the rear-view mirror, he saw that his mum was snoring with her head thrown back.
Charlie swallowed harshly. It felt like some of the fizzy orange was sitting in his throat, blocking his airways a bit. Gripping the steering wheel tightly at ten and two, he tried to let some of the air up from his stomach, but the bubbles stayed exactly where they were, gurgling amongst the sickly combination of food in his belly.
He slid his right hand from two to twelve on the steering wheel, glancing once again to make sure his dad was still asleep; Trevor would definitely yell at him for having one hand off the wheel, but it was a straight, empty road, and Charlie was decidedly below the recommended speed.
Besides, he could probably pull up enough strength to telekinetically steer the car, if he had to. Having acceleratingly strong demonic powers had its unexpected quirks, after all.
Charlie rubbed a hand across his belly, realising that it was filling out his hoodie a lot more than it should have been. He stifled a whimper as he pushed on the swell, hoping to force up at least some of what was making his stomach feel so bad. It gurgled under his hand, the pain shifting slightly but not upwards. There was a slight rumble in his chest, a fizzing in the back of his throat, but nothing more.
He put his left hand back on the wheel and sighed, surviving on the fact that at least he’d be home and lying in bed without the hour.
Back home
“Night, Mum, night, Dad,” Charlie called dully down the hall, though they’d probably both passed out on their bed in the time it had taken him to brush his teeth. He’d hoped the minty flavour would have soothed the burning acidity, but it had just mixed sickly with the fizzy orange reflux. He could finally hunch over a bit and rub his belly with a little more force, now he was alone in his room.
He reached for his bedside lamp, when a tap on the window made him jump. He almost knocked his little brown stuffed bear from the nightstand, and he rushed to straighten him.
“Sorry, Vincent,” he whispered before approaching the window. Another tiny pebble hit the glass and Charlie groaned under his breath. Couldn’t that boy learn how to send a text?
Charlie cradled his belly as he spotted the dark-haired figure in the back yard. Usually, the sight of Shayne gave him a very light, pleasant feeling, but right now he felt the furthest from light he’d ever been. He sighed and directed his gaze towards the back door, focusing on undoing the lock before ducking back into the room.
He leaned against the windowsill, rubbing his belly desperately. It was definitely too much to ask, that all of the burps trapped inside him come up in the time it took Shayne to get inside, take off his ridiculous boots, and creep upstairs. All Charlie succeeded in bringing up were a couple of orangey splashes that burned his tongue.
“Whatever it is, I’m not in the mood,” he whispered as soon as Shayne let himself quietly into the room.
The dark-haired boy frowned as he closed the door. “Hmm?”
Charlie sighed and sat down on his bed. “I don’t care if it’s a voodoo doll or a silver stake or a monkey’s fucking paw. Can we do it another time?”
“Okay, first of all; hi,” Shayne muttered. “Second; how would any of those things be useful in exorcising or communicating with a demon? And third; where were you all?”
“My cousin’s christening,” Charlie said, slipping a hand into his hoodie pocket so he could keep some pressure on his stomach. “It went on kind of late.”
“You’re telling me?” Shayne began to pace evenly back and forth. “This place gives me shivers on a normal day. Ten times worse when it’s all dark and unoccupied.”
“Well, you could try not hanging around on other people’s property,” Charlie grumbled.
“I caught three demons in the back yard,” Shayne said. “Three demons that will never possess your parents, so you’re welcome.”
“So, you’ve got fucking warding jars on you?” Charlie whined. He knew he was feeling awful for a reason, but if those jars were close-by, they certainly wouldn’t be helping.
“’Course not, I left them at the far end of the garden,” Shayne hissed. “Okay, you’re sounding more like me than me tonight. What’s going on?”
Charlie swallowed and looked up at his friend. His belly was groaning, and he hoped he was the only one hearing it. He pulled his hand from his pocket and started holding it a bit more firmly, giving up the secrecy.
“I don’t feel so good,” he whined, sitting forward. “My tummy’s really sore.”
“Oh. Well, why haven’t you taken any of those tablets you always try to force on me?”
“Because I’ll be fine once I can burp, but so far, nothing wants to come up.” Charlie’s face burned at hearing himself give so much detail. He lowered his head as he leaned towards his knees, curling around the knot of pain.
He felt the mattress take Shayne’s weight, and then a hand prying his away from his stomach. He took a sharp breath and looked up.
“Are you going to rub my tummy?”
“You’ll never hear me say it in those words, but… yeah.” Shayne was still frowning, though Charlie recognised a slight blush in his cheeks. “Here, straighten up. Stop sitting like an idiot.”
“That’s mean,” Charlie whined, slowly released his vice-grip on his belly and straightening his back. “Why do I feel like you’re going to be really bad at – mmm.”
Shayne’s hand could almost have covered Charlie’s whole belly if it hadn’t been so bloated and tight. His stomach churned uneasily alongside the movement of Shayne’s fingers, until Charlie felt gas bubbles press up towards his chest. He felt himself groan without deciding he was going to.
Shayne held his breath, pausing the motion of his hand. “What? Am I doing it wrong?”
“No, no, don’t stop,” Charlie groaned. “Can you rub my back, too?”
As soon as Shayne pressed on Charlie’s stomach and ran a hand up his spine, Charlie felt the gas bubbles release, making a deep rumbling sound in his chest. He pressed a fist to his mouth and turned his head away from Shayne. The burp was so loud Charlie worried it would wake his parents, and lasted about four seconds.
“Holy shit,” Shayne whispered. “I think I felt the room shake.”
“Shut up,” Charlie groaned.
“Feel any better?”
“Not really.”
“I’m going to lift your jumper, okay?”
Charlie almost squeaked as Shayne slid his hand under his hoodie, rubbing at the straining skin of his belly. Charlie dug his nails into the duvet to keep himself from wriggling. His skin was starting to feel prickly and warm, but that could have just been because of what was happening. Shayne was here and touching him, and not just through his clothes. He had his hand on Charlie’s bare torso. He was in pain, but he should have been enjoying this at least a little.
A weak smile twitched across his mouth as he nudged his cheek experimentally against Shayne’s shoulder. When the dark-haired boy didn’t flinch in any major way, he let himself lean a little harder, hoping his heart wasn’t pounding as loudly as he thought it was.
“What did you do to it, anyway?” Shayne asked, and it took Charlie a second to realise he was talking about his stomach. His fingers kneaded gently across it
“I, um, just kept eating, I guess.” Charlie turned his head to let out another burp, though this one sounded like it was strangled on its way up from his stomach. “And my dad kept bringing me fizzy drinks. Designated driver, you know? Aw – fuck, Shayne.”
Charlie frowned and winced as his stomach suddenly lurched under the pressure of Shayne’s hand.
“Shit – what is it?”
“I don’t know,” Charlie murmured, his cheeks suddenly tingling. A certain kind of panic began to ring in his ears. “Oh, god, I think I’m going to –”
He retched before fully realising it was happening, before he could do any kind of aiming or get his hands in front of his mouth. His hands did fly out, one landing on Shayne’s back, the other on his own knee. The majority of the thick, orange vomit landed down the front of Shayne’s jacket and t-shirt, the rest of it flicked across Shayne’s jeans and the duvet cover.
“Oh, my god, Shayne,” Charlie gasped. His hand was shaking as he brought it up to cover his mouth. Almost immediately, his head pitched forward again, another long gush of sticky orange liquid and chunks of bar food spraying over the sleeve of his hoodie as he tried to block it, but a lot still landed in Shayne’s lap.
Shayne sighed, though he really hoped Charlie didn’t hear it. He’d definitely take it the wrong way, thinking Shayne was sighing out of frustration when really, it was the only way he could release the intense sympathy he felt as the blonde boy clung to him and vomited. Shayne continued to rub Charlie’s back, though he wasn’t sure if it was helping or making things worse.
Charlie hiccuped into his sleeve, clearly forgetting that he’d just gotten sick all over it.
“Shayne,” he croaked, slowly lifting his gaze. “I’m so sorry.”
“Feeling any better?”
“Actually, yeah, I am.”
Shayne shrugged. “Then it’s fine. Jesus, if only exorcising you was so damn easy.”
#belly rub#belly rubs#shayne and charlie#sick charlie#emeto#my ocs#prompt#swallow the world#sickfic#nausea#emetophilia#tw vomit
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just watched the Elf episode of The Holiday Movies That Made Us on Netflix after remembering that I started writing an Elf supercorp AU for Christmas in 2018 (don’t judge me) and found my old notes app first draft so Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! MAYBE I’ll finish it this year... (she said as a lying liar who lies.)
*The fic in which Kara’s pod crash landed at the North Pole, 13 years later her adopted elf mother Eliza and her elf sister Alex tell her about her cousin Kal now Clark Kent and she decides to go to Metropolis to meet the only other person like her. She meets Lena “naughty list” Luthor. And Clark and Lois are Jewish.
🔥🎄🎄🎄🧝♀️🤦🏻♀️
Some elves are born to work in Santa’s workshop. Kara Zor-El, however, was not born an elf or even from this earth for that matter.
When her pod crash landed at the North Pole thirteen years ago, she had no memory of a lost planet, no recollection of a cousin she was sent to protect who had already grown up to become Superman, and no idea how to be an alien living with elves. Santa was perturbed as to what to do with a skittish teenaged alien who cringed at the sound of tiny hammers building toys.
The elf doctor, Eliza Danvers, having a daughter around Kara’s age, naturally stepped in to help raise her, teach her elf culture, and attempt to control her powers. There were several mishaps of course.
Kara’s eyes lit up the first time she saw a Christmas tree. Literally. The green pine was burned to a crisp with her heat vision. But she quickly uprooted another tree from outside the elf village and helped Alex redecorate the new tree. And spent several hours carefully placing the new lights and ornaments, after breaking several of the glowing strings of light and the ornate red and blue colored bulbs. When Alex had trouble reaching the top of the tree, Kara swooped her up under her arms to help her place the star on the tree. And she managed to only break one of Alex’s ribs in the process.
After years of being at the North Pole, Kara was actually a wonderful toy maker once she learned to control her strength. When other elves managed to meet their five hundred toy quotas, Kara would have five thousand toys completed. The workshop wouldn’t need any teddy bears for another century, but finding storage for all of the toys Kara built was becoming difficult.
So from there, Kara’s primary job became Elf Master of Letters. She spends several hours each day answering letters for Santa as Santa’s tight schedule and the millions of letters he received each year became too much for the old bearded man. And although she always needed a little proofreading as the different Earth languages were sometimes difficult and much different than her native alien tongue, she enjoyed writing and speaking to children all over the world, bringing them the joy of Christmas.
Alex read over the letter Kara had just finished typing. Her younger but much bigger sister looked to her with a twinkle in her eyes and waited patiently. When Kara saw the red ink marked all over Kara’s letter she cooed and gasped, “That red is so pretty Alex. I know Raymond in Denver will love it! He told me red was his favorite color. I wanted to tell him that’s Santa’s favorite color too! But I didn’t want to give all of the big man’s secrets away, you know?”
Alex sighed and rested her hand on her sister’s shoulder, “Kara, these are your typos. Look here.”
Alex pointed to the last line, “Beleiving isn’t singing. Singing is beleiving.”
“He asked if he could see what the North Pole looks like. I set him straight. Believing isn’t singing. Singing is believing. That was in that one Santa Claus movie you had me watch, which I know isn’t historically accurate or based on true events, but I still,”
“Kara, remember your English spellings. I before e except after c? And it’s seeing not singing.
“Except in some cases like neighbor and weigh. And I just thought! It’s a play on words because ‘the best way to spread Christmas cheer, is singing loud for all to hear!’”
Alex smiled at her then, “You’ll get the hang of it.“
“Yeah, okay so I can’t spell that great, but the writing was good right?” Kara looked hopeful.
Alex shoved her shoulder, “You know you have more Christmas spirit than any other elf. Now come on and fix these typos, so we can go drink hot chocolate with Mom.”
That night when Kara had gone to bed, belly full of twelve drumsticks, eleven pickled peppers, ten cups of hot chocolate, nine hams glazed, eight glasses of milk, seven strudel pastries, six white chocolate goose eggs, five onion rings, four carrot cakes, three French bagels, two turtle chocolates, and a chocolate pecan pie, she curled up on her elf sized bed. Eliza had knit a fourth blanket onto her elf quilt the previous month when her toes started peeking out at the bottom. Alex had tucked her in tonight, making certain she was snug as a bug in a rug in the tiny bed, wishing sweet dreams of sugarplums dancing in her head.
She was content, happy, home and tomorrow would be her thirteenth birthday at the North Pole. What more could her life possibly be, what could be more rewarding than being apart of the magic that brought Christmas to children all over the world? And still Kara thought of that world and all of the little lights that wrote those letters to Santa, the gleaming eyes of all who opened presents on Christmas morning, and she wondered if any of them were like her. If they could hear the faintest sounds of snow falling or reach up and touch the clouds. If they could roast chestnuts with their eyes or see through all those pretty presents wrapped neatly under the tree. If the people of this world could believe that Santa would come every year to bring them gifts, then she had to believe that somewhere out there, there was someone else who was just like her.
That night Kara dreamed of a beautiful red sunset and little baby boy named Kal. It all felt so real, seeing him jet across the sky in a similar pod to the one Kara had found in an abandoned workshop years ago, knowing it must have been how she found her home. She wrote a letter to Santa as soon as she woke up, asking him to find a home for Kal for Christmas.
_____
Kara had been in trouble a bit, always an accident, because really how was it her fault if Blitzen couldn’t keep up with her? He could have flown faster if he hadn’t eaten all of that maple syrup and maybe then he wouldn’t have been left behind! She carried him back the whole way anyway! After she found him three days later in the Swiss Alps.
But this time when she was called to Santa’s office and Eliza and Alex sat patiently waiting for the charges from the big boss, Kara didn’t know why she was here at all, or rather, now she was on the floor with wood debris around her rear because the little chair was a lot lower than she had anticipated. That was the tenth one this month.
Santa cleared his throat and rubbed his white bearded chin, “I read your letter, and I spoke to your mom and sister. I think they have something they’d like to tell you.”
Kara widened her eyes and looked to her mom, “Are we going to adopt Kal? Like you adopted me? Please say we can Eliza. I promise I’ll teach him myself how to control his powers, and I can build him a crib myself. I’ll even chop down the tree for the wood and we can,”
Eliza cupped Kara’s face and kissed her forehead, a tear prickling at the corner of her eye, “Do you remember Kal now sweetie? Do you remember Krypton?”
Kara blew out her breath in bewilderment, “Krypton? What’s that? Is that where I’m from? Is it in Canada? I’ve always felt I was probably a Canadian because I don’t get cold at the North Pole, and I make the best maple syrup every year during the elf Christmas party.”
Santa nodded, “Its true, you really do.”
Alex gasped, “you know you’re not an elf?”
Kara chewed at her fingernails, “Well I’m not, am I? I’m bigger than all of you and I can lift a Christmas tree over my head like it’s mistletoe and fly with reindeer and all sorts of stuff. I’ve known for awhile I’m not from here, but this is still my home. You two are still my family.”
Alex held back all her unshed tears, “But you have other family out there, and we can’t keep you from knowing about Kal anymore.”
So that day Kara cried when Santa showed her the picture of Kal, or Clark Kent as he was called on Earth, glasses askew and a beautiful woman on his arm. Clark without the glasses bearing what she was told was her family crest, the House of El, taking up the mantle of Earth’s greatest hero, Superman. She had crafted thousands of figurines of her only living blood relative, and yet she hadn’t the faintest idea that she had been sent to protect him for all of these years. He had grown up, not alone at least. He was raised in Kansas on a farm, and now he lived in Metropolis with his wife Lois Lane and their son Jonathan Kent.
“Does he even know I exist?”
_____
Kara changed into her best elf attire and her bright red boots that Eliza had made her for Christmas, letting her open one present before she left. Today was the day that she would fly to Metropolis and meet her cousin for the first time. She couldn’t wait, but the dread at leaving Alex and Eliza settled deep in the pit of her stomach. And all of the letters to Santa she still wanted to respond to sat neatly at her desk in her room.
She was leaving behind her entire life at the North Pole. She told herself she wasn’t losing her home, but it still felt like it. Santa’s workshop, Eliza and Alex, it was all she had ever known or could remember. Would it be the same when she came back? Would her room still smell like a gingerbread house and would her stocking still hang by their chimney with care? Would Kal come with her or would she split her time between Kal and Alex and Eliza like some children who get double presents when their parents divorce?
Alex knocked on her door and waltzed in, “Hey Kara, mom made you something to take to Kal. There’s a winter storm over Greenland, you should probably get going soon.”
Kara wiped the tears from her eyes and her sister rushed to hug her. She had to bend down a little and lift Alex off the ground, but no way was she leaving without giving her sister a proper hug.
“I’m going to miss you and mom so much, Alex. I’ve never been away from home for more than a few hours, how am I going to make it to Christmas without you both? Will you even still want me back?”
Alex nuzzled closer, “You better come back because I don’t want to imagine this place without you. Who’s going to lift the fridge so mom can sweep under it hmm? Who’s going to change all of the light bulbs in the workshop when they blow out? Who’s going to drink hot chocolate with me and watch Hallmark movies in July?”
Kara laughed, shaking her head and deposited Alex on the floor, “I thought you hated the Hallmark channel.”
Alex simply rolled her eyes, “But I love spending time with my sister, and I love you, you big sap. I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”
Feeling slightly better Kara shoves her sister’s shoulder, a little too hard and catches her before she falls, “I love you too, dork. Don’t open the present I got you until you get back, pinky swear?”
Alex locks pinkies with Kara and kisses her thumb, “I’ll miss you. Please be safe. No breaking the sound barrier, watch out for pigeons because there’s a lot in Metropolis or so I’ve read. And when you see Kal remember to call him Clark Kent.”
“Got it, and don’t eat anything I don’t buy myself or anything not given to me by Clark, Lois, or Jonathan because there’s a high chance it’s not candy.”
Kara hugged Eliza for thirty minutes after that, and then Alex for another ten minutes before waving goodbye to Santa and all of the elves at his workshop. Metropolis wasn’t so far for her to fly, and she’d be home in no time.
She coasted through the peppermint sparkled glaciers, touched the northern lights, sailed through the skies above the Arctic Ocean, grazed the top of the Daily Planet, and landed atop the small two bedroom apartment building on the rent controlled side of town. Inside the windows of the corner apartment on the top floor, Kara saw Kal with his family, lighting candles, looking happy and calm. She decided to wait until morning to meet Kal, Clark, alone.
She listened into the city around her, all of the heartbeats like a million tiny hammers beating together, all except one. Kara flew the city, pinpointing the sound, admiring all of the lights on all the trees in all of the buildings and all the shining multicolored bulbs lining the streets. And it was there, in the tallest tower of the tallest building, one light shone through the wall to wall window, a small desk lamp in the large office. At the desk a woman with jet black hair and skin as white and fair as snow sat, typing away at her computer, nibbling on the pen in her mouth. She strained her long elegant neck, and stretched her arms above her head before getting back to work.
Kara glanced below the balcony to the street corner, finding what she knew the young woman needed. She floated down to the alley and walked into a coffee shop, took some time figuring out how to pay for a cup of coffee with the paper and coin money that Santa had given her before she left. Smiled and thanked the cashier for helping her, put one of the bills in his tip jar (it was a hundred.) She quickly flew into the woman’s office, left the coffee on her desk, and flew out of sight, feeling a little like Santa herself in the moment.
The woman grabbed the coffee absentmindedly and sipped, not expecting it to be so hot Kara sees her fanning her mouth and frantically searching the room with her eyes. When she turns to peer out her balcony, Kara sees her face, hard jaw line, soft endearing green eyes. She smiles as the woman screams and locks her balcony door as the windows go pitch black.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
an argument for AO3
So I’m in a conversation with someone who is kind of in the “against AO3″ camp, and they asked me a couple of questions. Namely, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable with pedophilia? Isn’t it sketchy that a beta website is asking for so much money despite reaching its goals?
And my answer became so long... I figured it might as well become its own post. Please bear in mind that this is cut from a whole conversation.
But here it is.
------
No. It doesn't seem sketchy to me at all. Why would it? I know we make jokes about how much money tumblr has cost the various sites which purchase it like Yahoo, but there's some truth there: it's really expensive to host a website to thousands and thousands of people. It's why we see so many tumblr owners trying to shoehorn in ads or make people buy services, or why Photobucket tried to pull that truly atrocious bullshit a year or two back. Without image hosting capabilities (tumblr and photobucket's big thing), the strain isn't as huge.... but AO3 is MASSIVE. It is hosting literally thousands of accounts, millions of stories. That's massive on a server scale alone, ignoring all the other work they do. Yeah, it's in beta... but that's because it's trying to reach a goal of being as good a fanfic archive as they can be, and they don't believe they've reached that goal yet. Being in beta means they can better listen to their uses on shit like tagging systems and make those changes. Not to mention, again, they are INCREDIBLY transparent. If you are worried about where the money is going, you can go on the site and they have all their stuff up there.
As for the pedophilia subject matter.... Please give me a moment. because there's honestly a lot to say on that particular issue, if nothing else. This will take a while, so if you see this and there hasn't been a reply yet.... I'm still typing lmao.
To start with, of course people are uncomfortable about pedophilia. However, there are a lot of problems with how pedophilia is viewed or *used* as an accusation in the current fandom climate.
For example, in honestly EXTREMELY recent times, I was told I was "defending" pedophilia because I disagreed that a character (an immortal food gijinka) was "minor-coded" or "designed as an underage teenager". (As a note, an argument for this view was that the character's breasts were too small.) When I pointed out, hey, that's kind of a fucked up accusation to throw at a complete stranger, especially as I am a CSA survivor, I was told "You have to be lying about that, then, because a real CSA survivor would understand."
c o o l
That's just my personal experience that happened within a couple of months. Other people have talked about running into people who think that a character turning 18 means they're a pedophile for still dating a 17 year old. Or running into people who think a 40 year old dating someone in their 30s is pedophilic. Or believe that even SHIPPING characters who were not yet 18 was pedophilic if you yourself were over 18.
(Of course, you also have the kinds of people who try to use Moral Purity as a way to bash ships they don't like. I once saw someone try to claim that a popular mlm ship, A/B, was pedophilic because one half of the equation looked young.... when some other artists drew him... Of course, on the side, this person liked to also get angry that *their* favorite ship, a dude/chick ship composing of A/C, wasn't more popular. So. You know.)
So that's one half of the problem: the word "pedophile" being so warped that a lot of people now have no idea if the person using it has a genuine concern or if the accuser is trying to smear someone who doesn't ship the same thing. FFnet and Tumblr have gone with the "burn it all down" approach, which hasn't actually helped anyone and is, to boot, sloppily moderated. So we know from history, from experience in cases like mine, that it doesn't help in that area.
The other half of the problem is... How far is too far?
This is where "anti" culture begins to find similarities with the whole Warriors for Innocence thing. If you completely and blindly block an entire tag, or anyone associated with it, you have to ask: who are you hurting? Warriors for Innocence hurt actual rape victim, and queer folk, and a whole lot of others. Far as I can tell, anti culture is on the route to the same thing, because I have yet to see appropriate answers to a lot of issues.
If one says "anything with underage sex in it is bad and should be banned", what about fics that tackle it in a serious manner? The young adult novel "Speak" deals with rape of an underage girl and how she works through that mental trauma; are fics with stories equivalent to that allowed? Do fics with underage sex have to focus purely on how it is Horrible And Bad to be allowed? Does only a chapter have to be allowed? A paragraph? An author's note? A tag? Or are we allowed to never explore dark subject matter?
Is fic with underage content in it only horrible if it's someone over the age of eighteen who writes it? Can a teenager write smut (terribly written as it may likely be) between teenage characters? Can a teenager write smut between a teenage character and an adult character? For the record, i did in fact, over the summer, run into someone who said that teens/minors "shouldn't even know about NSFW", which is asinine to me, because Abstinence Only is a terrible thing to put in schools, and somehow worse in a way when you try to put that into effect in fandom. If the answer is 'yes', what are you going to do, demand to see people's birth certificates in fandom?
(As a note, I think this is a terrible message to put into fandom for teenagers because I believe it will inevitably lead to self hatred and a warped view of sex. If you make the extremely simplified black-and-white statement of "teens and sex should never go together ever in any way", that's going to mess up teens who are starting to experience arousal in their bodies. The message, whether intended or not, ends up as "NSFW things are bad, which means my brain which thought NSFW thoughts is bad, and my brain thought those thoughts because my body had these feelings". )
(This is bad for any average teenager. This will be especially worse to CSA and rape victims, along with queer youth who, in a lot of places, are still struggling with their bodies and/or feelings because the world is still pretty damn queerphobic.)
Speaking of CSA and rape victims, what about those of them who write/read underage ships or dark content as a way to cope with what happened or Just Because? That's a thing lots of us do, especially those of us who don't look like the Perfect Victims people can use as an excuse for whatever crusade they're waging. I've heard anti types go "Well, it's an unhealthy way to cope" or claims that CSA/rape victims who write such dark content are "just as bad as their abusers"... But are they psychiatrists/therapists? Are they the psychiatrists/therapists of *those specific people*? Will you moderate this kind of content by forcefully interrogating CSA/rape victims to out their trauma to a complete stranger? Will you demand to speak to their therapists? Over fanfic?
When I was a teenager, I wrote all sorts of stuff. I wrote dark dub-con fic, because I liked to explore those dark feelings in the process and the aftermath separate from myself. I wrote a fic with a fairly young teenage girl (what age was kh2 kairi? who even knows, I sure didn't) falling for a MUCH older man built like a brick shit house so that there was never any doubt to him being an adult, even giving him her first kiss, because they were my favorite characters, I wanted both of them to have a moment of happiness (that i promptly ruined but hey), and, *in this fic*, I knew it would be alright. I knew the girl would always be in control, she'd be the one making moves, that the guy was nonthreatening and kind and protect her and work alongside her.
(and then I began the process of killing him off in the next paragraph through him saving her life, but, like. Drama (tm), baby)
This was all good for me. At an age where I was young, vulnerable, and figuring out weird shit like arousal and romantic feelings, it was *invaluable* to have a space where I could explore all of that while relatively safe from actual danger, even if the stuff I wanted to explore was a little messed up. This whole thing against AO3 wouldn't have helped me, and I'm pretty sure it's not helping a lot of other people too.
There is an issue with underage people and sex stuff- not just in fandom but in culture at large. We have Hollywood dressing up young girl actresses in super slinky or revealing clothes. We have schools saying girls basically should never wear shorts, and capitalism fucking this up further by only selling SUPER SHORT shorters. We have media of all sorts giving us adults, whether in real actors or character design, in the roles of young people. (See: "how do you do, fellow kids") We should probably take more care about fandom spaces, so that people of all ages don't feel pressured to engage in sexual shit they're not 100% game for or into, or just have it shoved into their faces without consent. It's a complex issue... and it's not stuff that can just be 'banned' and have that fix it.
AO3 has on its plate a very complex problem that will, if we're all honest, never have a perfect answer. It has given us the best that can possibly be asked for. It obeys the law by not having actual child pornography on it (aka visual proof of actual real children, defined by us law as such), which is closest to "objective" we can get at the current stage in humanity and state of fandom. It has a very comprehensive and moderated tag system, so that people can post warnings along their fic so that people don't stumble onto shit they don't need to, and so that people can moderate their own reading experience to some degree.
If some people aren't comfortable with AO3, that's fine. However, most of us are getting annoyed not with those people, but with the people who just blindly say "AO3 supports child porn and is probably stealing money" (statement simplified for the purpose of this post). It shows an ignorance of the fandom history that lead us here, no understanding in either AO3's practices or how expensive it is to run a site, and no consideration for how complex this problem can really be. It would be great if this was a black and white issue, if there was an easy answer as just "banning" certain kinds of content... but there isn't. And that's where I am.
#long post#ao3#fandom#here comes the ruckus#csa tw#rape tw#you never realize how long what you've written is#until it's in a whole ass tumblr post#well!
737 notes
·
View notes
Text
00. prologue | dear miss soju
ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is!
ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA!
ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life
ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes
ღ Word Count: 2.6k words
ღ Binu’s Note: hi to anyone who is reading this!!! i’m super excited (and kinda nervous :0) to post this bc i’ve been working on this project for a while now. aaaa i hope there are at least some people who can enjoy it! this is a relatively short-ish chapter but it’s p dense with exposition lol but anyway if ur reading this, thank you i love you!!!
《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ Navigation ⊛ 》
《 Previous ⊛ Next 》
Introducing The Front ’s New Romance Advice Columnist: Miss Soju!
We all have an ideal: an ideal type, an ideal first date, an ideal relationship. The problem is love isn’t ideal at all. And sooner or later, we find ourselves sitting on that plastic chair in that tent on the side of the road with an ache in our chest. You’re hurt, confused, and kind of going crazy-- all the tell-tale symptoms of heartbreak are there. And the only cure? Soju, of course!
Finding a decent partner and maintaining a healthy, sustainable relationship is difficult enough as it is. Then layer it with the culture shock of university, where you’re experiencing actual adulthood for the first time without mommy and daddy to hold your hand. It’s enough to make anyone lose their minds! Sure, you could always turn to your friends for support and advice, but in all honesty, they’re even more of a mess than you are.
That’s why Mansae University’s affiliate newspaper, The Front, will be reviving our romance advice column this fall! Each week, Miss Soju will be answering all your burning questions, and that means all of them. Her expertise touches on topics as simple as explaining to that one guy that your love is fated because you passed each other at Yuhaeng Quad, like three times, and extends to more extreme situations that require an anonymous veil, like how to confess to your new boyfriend with the furry fetish that you’ve been severely allergic to animals since you were three and you have no idea how any animals act, let alone… Yikes.
It’s true, college is full of new and bizarre experiences, some we must go through and some we’d much rather avoid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life here. But it’s okay to admit that you need a little guidance through the mystical and confusing world of college dating. Miss Soju has got your back, and she’s not afraid to hit you with that real shit. As she always says, good advice is like taking a shot: sweet on the lips but burns your throat as you swallow it down.
Monday, June 3rd, 2019 3:07PM
“Jihoon, I don’t know if I can do this.”
Name: So Joohyun. Major: Journalism major with a minor in communications. Estimated graduation year: 2021. Desired position: World News Journalism Intern. That was what she had put on her application for The Front’s junior internship program. She had made sure to attach her published articles and to emphasize her interest in-- no, her passion for-- reporting compelling stories on an international scale. Not once in her application did she indicate that she was an expert in love or sex, let alone qualified to give others advice on the subjects! In fact, she was probably the least qualified person on campus for this position, which was probably the most perplexing aspect of the whole situation.
But despite all of that, there she was, sitting in Yuhaeng Quad with her best friend, reading the promo piece she had written for Miss Soju. Jihoon had been ecstatic when he had thought of the nickname back in high school. She had snuck bottles of the alcohol over to his house one night after finals week, and he had drunkenly claimed that the name was doubly clever since So-ju were also the first two syllables in her name. When the newspaper had told her she needed an anonymous pen name, it was the only thing she could think of, mostly because creating a secret identity had made her in desperate need of a drink. She changed her mind. Having a secret identity was equally as perplexing as pretending to know how to spice up people’s sex lives. It was like she was some kind of Love Spiderman. She was not ready for that kind of great power or the great responsibility that came with it!
“‘I don’t know if I can do this’?” Jihoon repeated her words slowly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words in that order. Can I take your picture? I need to commemorate this moment.”
“Can’t you see that I am having a crisis?” she whined. “The integrity of my career is on the line because I’ve never bothered to go on a date!”
“When are you not having a crisis?” Jihoon laughed. He sat up from lying down on their picnic tarp to give her full view of his smug grin. Originally, he had dragged Joohyun outside in hopes that the perfect summer weather would help relieve some of her stress from the past week. He even found her favorite spot under the shade of an ancient tree that overlooked the stretch of green field. But Jihoon could not call himself a proper best friend if he passed on an opportunity to rub all of this in her face. “This is what you get for chickening out on all our group blind dates! I could have scored that hot bassist girl with the thigh tattoo, but nooo, you always had to put your career first.”
“Sue me for having priorities!” she huffed. Leave it to Jihoon to chalk this all up to karma. Now that he mentioned it though, she couldn’t help but feel like a higher power was taking a piss on her life. Or maybe it was just the shit-eating smile on Jihoon’s face that had her on edge. Joohyun tried to avert her focus to a couple of boys tossing a frisbee around instead, but somehow that irked her too. The idyllic weather, the carefree students, everything that was pleasant seemed to mock her sour mood. She pouted at the ground in defeat, and continued, “You are the first person to know that if I was told that dating and fucking around were going to be crucial to my journey to becoming South Korea’s top journalist by the time I turn 25, I would have become a hoe long ago.”
“Woah, are you gonna start your thot phase for this? Are we gonna have a hot girl summer?” The boy began to bounce excitedly. Joohyun felt it was high time to give him the finger, but she also felt a small smile tugging at her frown. “Easier said than done, though. Remember Jessi from high school?”
“Yeah I remember,” she said with a sigh. High school romance had lured so many of her friends into its clutches, with its enticing promises of sweet chocolates and stuffed animals, and she had helplessly watched from the top of the class as they forsook their grades for boys who didn’t even know what deodorant was. She only shuddered to think of the state of their grades after a nasty break up. It was then that Joohyun had decided that her future was not worth risking over a boy’s attention. “Which is exactly why I never got involved in all that mess in the first place.”
“This must be the gods telling you that it’s time to.”
“What kind of fucked up god sets up a virgin as a love advice columnist?” she asked the sky loudly. If she had known there was anyone listening, she would have insisted that her question was rhetorical and was not in need of any type of response! However, the gods cared not for grammar technicalities on the mortal plane. They just couldn’t resist the chance to respond to someone so openly questioning their decisions with some good ol’ spite. Honestly, with the way things were going for her lately, Joohyun probably should have expected the frisbee flying merrily towards her face, even if she hadn’t just challenge the universe.
“Oh fuck!” Joohyun jerked out of the way and felt the frisbee thunk against her shoulder instead. “Ow.” At this point, she didn’t even have the capacity to be annoyed; she just braced herself for whatever misfortune life threw at her next.
“Sorry about that!” A boy called out, jogging up to them. As he came into clearer view, she noted that he looked far from misfortunate, and also had to remind herself that staring was rude even if someone was unnaturally handsome. His features were soft yet striking, like he had been carefully sculpted from cotton candy. Or maybe a fluffy rain cloud? Joohyun shook her head a little as if that would get her to stop staring so shamelessly. She speculated whether it was the sun that made it look like his blond hair was a glowing halo. Okay seriously, stop staring! He gave Joohyun a sweet smile when he reached them. “My friend got a bit distracted. Now that I’m here, I can’t say that I blame him. Hope we didn’t do too much damage!”
“Uh,” was her captivating reply.
Jihoon, never one to miss such a ripe opportunity, piped up beside her. “She’ll be fine. This is Joohyun, by the way.”
His smile widened at Woozi’s introduction, and Joohyun could swear there was an actual twinkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you both. I’m--”
“Yoon Jeonghan!” They all looked towards the call. The ethereal boy let out a startlingly loud cackle at the sight of his friend, who gave the two strangers a sheepish wave before continuing to gesture for Jeonghan to return. Joohyun must have been put in a staring mood, because she didn’t miss how his friend’s big ears were a shade of pink and how they bloomed into a cherry red when they briefly made eye contact. She caught herself wondering if all the boys at Mansae University were always this cute.
“I guess I better go,” the boy named Jeonghan shrugged. Joohyun felt his fingers brush against hers when he took the frisbee from her hand, his eyes glinting mischievously. Now she was sure she was seeing things. “See you two around!”
They both watched him retreat in an awestruck silence. That was certainly… unanticipated. Even long after Jeonghan and his friend were out of sight, the brief encounter left a blanket of fogginess lingering over them. Had she not felt his fingers on hers, Joohyun would have easily believed that it had all been in her head. At the same time, she was pretty sure that she wasn’t bold enough to conjure up someone that looked like that on her own. As she continued to fathom how a human being could glow, Joohyun felt the fog dissipate into the warm summer air. She felt like she was waking up from a disorienting dream, and she blinked to hasten the process. To her growing bewilderment, she found that her heartbeat was steady as she came back to her senses, her mind seemingly devoid of the panic and doubt that had plagued her all week. It was a gasp of fresh air.
Jihoon, on the other hand, had long broken free from the strong impression that the blond boy made. He noted the dazed look on his best friend’s face and rolled his eyes. Who knew that a pretty boy was all it took to make her shut up a bit? He nudged Joohyun impatiently, so that she could pay attention to him while he roasted her for totally flubbing her chances. “You thinking of risking it all for that guy?”
In an instant, Joohyun slammed herself back into reality just to shove Jihoon away from her. “That is so not happening,” she said a little too indignantly. Before Jihoon could reassure her that the guy seemed interested enough even though she had only said a single syllable to him, Joohyun suddenly turned to him very seriously. “Do you really think I can do it, Jihoon?”
“What, bang that guy? I can try calling him back here if you want,” he snickered.
“You know what I mean!”
“Okay sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Jihoon replied, his grin now melting into a familiar smile, the one that could put her at ease on her lowest days. “I just don’t know why you have to ask. You and I both know that you kick ass at writing. You’ve written about stuff like natural disasters and the student protests, no problem at all. It’s not like you have a PhD in environmental science or politics. How is this any different? ”
Joohyun scrunched her face as if Jihoon had just suggested that chocolate milk came from brown cows. “Dude, they’re completely different. Those articles were reporting on facts. I did research, I conducted interviews!”
“That’s what I’m saying, Joo!” Jihoon exclaimed suddenly. As smart as she was, he couldn’t help getting a little giddy whenever he thought of a good idea before her. “Why not treat Miss Soju like any other of your other projects? I mean, love is probably one of the most well-documented experiences throughout history, and people are still going through all the same shit. There’s probably thousands of resources for a man simping on a hot chick alone. You can even take your pick, like movies, songs, books, weird couples on Youtube?You don’t need to have experience, because you can just do the research! ”
“Research?” Joohyun repeated. If there was one thing that she was good at, it was doing the work. From the moment she had decided to become a journalist, everything she had done was a strategic move to get her closer to her end goal. She had spent sleepless nights perfecting the details of her writing, countless hours reading through endless archives of old articles. Hell, she even restricted herself from dating for years just so she could focus on keep her grades up. It was almost too easy of a solution. Maybe she was meant to do this after all.
Another couple of months of research would simply be another hurdle on her way to the finish line and she was getting closer and closer. Finally, she felt a smile spread across her cheeks, a real, genuine smile. “I… I can do that.”
“Now that,” Jihoon said as he took her hand in his, pulling her up to her feet, “sounds like So Joohyun. Or should I say Miss Soju?”
She laughed as she dusted the grass off of her butt. “You know, it’s probably not a good idea to include the first part of my name in my anonymous persona. It makes it so obvious that it’s me.”
“Yeah, I mean it would be obvious if people actually knew who you were in the first place,” Jihoon scoffed, narrowly dodging a kick from her. “That’s a good thing for you! Anyway, let’s get out of here, I have a couple of tweaks to make to my song before releasing it tonight. Could you listen to it by the way? I need to know if it’s too cheesy.”
“Oh, the song you’re writing about your mystery muse?” Joohyun hummed playfully while packing up their blanket. She followed after her best friend as he began the short climb uphill. “I don’t know if I want to, you’ve been pretty out of pocket today.”
“Hey!” he said defensively. “First: I don’t need a muse for my songs, I just have a very vivid imagination and my talent does the rest. Second: I literally just stopped you from giving up on your lifelong dream of becoming a journalist, so I think you owe me one. You’re just jealous I can write love songs without having an existential crisis.”
“See, that is what I mean by out of pocket,” she paused for a beat. “I may be willing to listen to your song. For a small price, of course.”
“Okay, deal,” he agreed without hesitation, missing the way Joohyun deviously smirked beside him. They reached the concrete pavement at top of the hill and headed in the direction of his nearby apartment. “What is it this time, Ms. So?”
“Well Mr. Lee, thanks to your lovely suggestion earlier, I have been inspired to begin work immediately. So we shall be watching Twilight on movie night,” she said all too gleefully, mostly for satisfaction that Jihoon’s twisted face of disgust gave her.
“Do we have to?” he groaned.
“It’s for my research!”
#seventeen#seventeen scenario#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#jihoon scenarios#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#jeonghan scenarios#jeonghan imagines#scoups scenarios#scoups imagines#seungcheol#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol scenarios#pour.up#dj.woozi#mu.eros#soju.queen
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
My headcanon has always been that Alec figured out he was gay very early in life (I've ALWAYS been/I ALWAYS knew/I ALWAYS dreamed) which is... interesting bc visibility and representation must have been a huge issue when he was growing up. This sort of reinforces my interpretation that Alec has always been very in touch with his feelings and very honest about them (he only chose to hide/not act on them). Which is I think what Magnus figured about him from the very beginning ->
-> (it's rare to find a shadowhunter with such an open heart). Which is also funny and sort of on point bc Alec's siblings were widely mistaken about Alec's issues. It also explains why Alec doesn't have any major hang-ups about relationships or expressing his feelings, something a lot of viewers took an issue with (like why is Alec not emotionally stunted or things like that). That said, I keep thinking about Magnus and how he was exploring his sexuality. I mean imagine Magnus talking to his father. Magnus: I feel like I'm into both men and women 🤔 Asmodeus: Great! The amount of people you can seduce and murder has increased exponentially 👀 I mean, poor Magnus 💀
i feel bad for laughing at the asmodeus part but ur so correct hdbdudbdidndidndidndidn
and u know i agree with u 100% on the Alec stuff, this is a hill I'm willing to die on, Alec knew that he was gay since forever, he wasn't lying to himself, he just chose to keep it to himself. he made that very clear every time he talked about it too, i always KNEW i couldn't get what i wanted, I've ALWAYS dreamt, like you said. key words always, knew, and wanted. he was extremely aware throughout the whole process and i can't see it any other way. Alec is terrible at lying and that includes to himself, hes painfully logical and aware and hes been trained to pay attention to his own body/reactions/thoughts and approach them logically and dissecate them from the very beginning. theres no way he was oblivious to his own feelings, or else his lies in s1 wouldnt be so clearly bad.
Alec is, for better or for worse, painfully self aware and that's something i identify with, possibly the part of him i relate to the most. he's struggling because he know it's not safe to come out and he's decided that he wont, so he doesn't, to anyone. but he knows exactly how he feels and that that's his choice. then, when he meets Magnus, he's confused, not because he wasn't ready to face that he liked men (he knew that pretty damn well) but because he was questioning whether he really wanted to go through with his "closeted for eternity" plan. and there was the whole marriage thing. but he wasn't confused about what he wanted, not for a second. he was confused about what he was going to do, and how honest he could be to Magnus about it.
and like you said that's why their transition into a relationship goes relatively smoothly. if Alec were in denial, it would be a lot harder for him to go from that to the Alec we see later on, who is very emotionally available and open with Magnus, who loves him openly and unashamedly, who threatens Maryse to make her respect him and their relationship, who bursts into Magnus' house like "hello lets have sex". Alec can fit into a relationship with so much emotional honesty because he's always been emotionally honest. he just chose not to tell people about it because he was in a place where that wasnt safe
as for Magnus! I hc that his sexual discovery went like, relatively smoothly. I mean he was raised in a recently-colonized Indonesia, which. okay had europeans out there trying to ruin things, but was very open and accepting of both gender and sexuality, and didn't have a binary view of either. and asmodeus wouldnt care because like you can't tell me that demons and angels give a shit about gender, even if by some odd reason they did have a gender system that's exactly like the modern western european mundane one. so i think that growing up, Magnus didn't have a lot of issues with his sexual & gender identity. It wasnt like "figuring out" and "coming out", more like it slowly became clear and he was like "okay". not a lot of denial involved.
I've talked about this here (sexuality) and here (gender) and there i put more sources and everything so I'm... gonna leave that here rjdndjdnfk but i think Magnus' self discovery wasnt the problem, the problem was the shock of getting to England after the Asmodeus Yeet and seeing how different things were.
i mean, he was no stranger to queerphobia (he had a dutch stepfather after all) but when he was a kid, the dutch didnt really manage to colonize Java and interfere with their customs because the javanese empires were stronger, so they were mostly settling by going there to trade, same as always. so Magnus didn't really have to live in a time where people had to hide who they were
and then he comes back from Edom and it's like. you will literally be executed for this. what in the fuck. people meet in like secret underground clubs, terrified of making every mood. some dont even do that and suffer alone. no one thinks this is weird. people act like its always been this way. what the fuck
and hes struggling because after he banished asmodeus he thought he could finally be himself, you know? escape the need to like get his approval and the fear of angering him, get away from his gross, manipulative claws - you get it. he thought he could breathe and be out in the open and live his own life, but he can't, because so many parts of who he is - his culture, his origins, his gender, his sexuality, the color of his skin, his heritage, his powers - are being constantly repressed by the meat grinding machine of early capitalism and colonialism, and it's like, wow.
so Magnus never really lied to himself, either, but he did learn how to hide, and do it well. he doesn't have a lot of internalized queerphobia in the sense that he thinks it's bad that he's trans and bi, but one of the most prominent results of queerphobia in his life (aggravated by a thousand other things) is that hes gotten used to bottling things up and compartmentalizing himself and his identity. hes learnt to be what ppl expect him to be, and to show them only what hes safe to. its instinctive for him, to hide certain parts of himself, be it his immortality, his queerness, or his pain. and it's one of the reasons he struggles so much to be fully open and honest with Alec about how he feels. it's why it's so instinctive for him to stop everything and hide because his glamour went down. he knows that Alec knows about it, but he's used to hiding the parts of himself that people dont want to see
and that's without throwing Camille and her abuse into the mix (which i talked more about in the aforementioned links. like not to self promote but i am pretty proud of those asks so you know) and of course Asmodeus himself, and how they also taught magnus to hide his weaknesses, not be honest, "stop whining", cut off his own feelings and thoughts to please them. again i talked about this in the links. okay ill stop idndidn
in short, Magnus never really struggled to come to terms with his identity, but he learnt quickly that he isn't palatable, and he never will be - not to his mom (even if again i dont think she killed herself because of him, but Magnus believes it), not to his stepfather, not to his father, not to mundanes, not to the white european queer community, not to anyone. so he knows that, to survive, he needs to be able to bottle things up, and even if the people he loves work hard to convince him every day that this isnt the case (Catarina, Raphael, Ragnor, Dot, Alec) old habits die hard
#im sad now lmao#ask#anonymous#alec lightwood#magnus bane#alec lightwood meta#magnus bane meta#malec meta#meta#malec#camille belcourt is an abuser#camille's trash party#asmodeus' trash party#overflowing trashcan#long post#trans magnus bane
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
1130
survey by nadine07
Where were you three hours ago?
Was passed out on the living room couch and probably dreaming away, lmao.
Were you with anyone?
Both my dogs were in the living room with me, if that counts.
Have you had anything alcoholic in the last 24 hours?
Hmm, I’m trying to remember but I don’t think so. I went outside to eat, but I doubt they put any alcohol in my meal since I literally had a truffle-based pasta. No plans to drink this weekend, either.
Are you wearing shoes right now?
Nope, I’m always barefoot around the house.
How long have you known your 1st phone contact?
At least since the 6th grade cos I think that’s when she had transferred to my school.
Are they a relative?
Nope, I went to school with her. We were seatmates for a while in sophomore year and that’s when I was able to see how talented she was at drawing and painting. She ended up transferring to UP as well after getting accepted to the fine arts program so we got to be collegemates as well, though I don’t really remember what university she initially got admitted to.
Would you ever consider getting back together with any of your exes?
Yeah, because I’m a dumb fuck when it comes to these things. I WILL SAY though that I’ll be so much kinder to myself should this ever happen, and no longer tolerate her bullshit and emotional/mental abuse under the guise of ~unconditional love. There’ll be a lot of shit she’ll have to pick up and fix, and I wouldn’t get back with her unless she acknowledges her mistakes and seek to correct them.
Would you ever go skinny dipping with the last person who commented you?
That would be Leigh, and no. Idk if I’ve shared this or if this has ever come up on a survey but Andi actually once asked me if I’d like to be a part of a threesome with them and Leigh, and I just had to immediately decline because I view Leigh as a younger sister more than anything and I can’t bear to see her all naked loooool.
When was the last time you saw a movie in theaters?
December 2019.
When did you last talk to the last person you shared a kiss with?
I think the morning of New Year’s Eve. I was already starting my healing process by then and the holidays were getting me feeling kind of peaceful, so I sent her a few voice notes thanking her for the year that was but giving her a heads-up that I might not talk to her for a while, because I realized I was starting to get happier on the days I didn’t force conversation with her.
I honestly thought ‘a while’ would only take a couple of weeks, but I’ve since gotten used without her presence and it’s been 3 1/2 months since our final encounter; and I think it will stay this way now.
Has anyone called you beautiful today?
No.
Are you still friends with the last person who broke your trust?
That would be JM, and yeah. I find him ridiculous for lying to our faces about joining a fraternity in law school (frats are a big yuck where I live because of their toxic hazing and misogynist culture), but I mean I still sort of understand why he had to do it - obviously not for the above reason, but for the perks and support that usually come with joining frats. From now on I’ll always see him as someone who can smoothly lie to my face, though.
Does drama seem to follow you everywhere?
No. I would hate that lol, that would just be too much to handle.
Do you feel like anyone is playing mind games with you right now?
No.
How would you feel if your best friend hooked up with your ex?
I think my literal first reaction would be to laugh out of sheer disbelief, and then proceed to call her stupid for cheating and for choosing to cheat with her. After that’s died down, I think I’d mostly feel disappointed and betrayed.
How long did your last relationship last?
The stint lasted 4 years, but we were technically together for 6 years if we’re counting the whole on/off thing.
If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today?
No. That’s what I had thought and they left. I’ve stopped trusting my feelings about these things anymore, and will assume anyone is capable of leaving.
Does it make you uncomfortable to talk on the phone around people?
I just don’t want to be loud enough that I’m almost screaming around other people, but I can’t always monitor that since I have to concentrate on what I’m hearing on the other line.
Would you rather be 10 years older or 10 years younger?
Probably 10 years older so that I can see into my future.
Have you ever kissed someone the same night your met them?
No.
Do you bite your fingernails?
Occasionally. I pick at them more frequently.
Would you consider yourself very flexible?
Nah. Like I said on a previous survey, I can’t even reach my toes either while standing up or stretching on the floor.
Do you embarrass easily?
Yeah.
Have you ever tried to talk your way out of getting a ticket?
Yup. It’s happened twice; one of the occasions I was able to handle by myself and the other time Gab had to step in to talk to the officer because he was adamant about the ticket and I had started crying.
Did it work?
Yes, both times. I’ve only been issued a ticket once, from this annoying grumpy officer in Alabang.
Have you ever been banned from anywhere?
Trying to remember if I have been, but I don’t think so.
Do you have a ringtone or do you leave your phone on vibrate?
The important messaging apps are on vibrate. I’ve turned off notifications for some apps and I have just the silent banner notifications for others.
What was the last thing you drank from a mug?
I’m drinking coffee from one right now.
Has your #1 ever seen you naked?
Does your #2 know your deepest secret?
Will your #3 repost this?
Does your #4 smoke?
Were you born in the 90's?
Yes, but by the end of it so I never considered myself a 90s kid.
When was the last time you paid less than $1 for something?
The parking fee in Feliz.
Have you loaned anything out to anyone recently?
Nope.
Are any of your siblings married?
None of us are.
Who was the last person to spend the night with you at your house?
Gabie.
How many different picture ids do you have in your wallet?
Just my driver’s license and TIN ID.
Do you have a hard time making decisions?
Depends on the weight of the decision. The heavier it is, the more I seek out friends who can provide fresh perspectives.
Has anyone kissed you when you weren't expecting it?
Idk, Gabie probably snuck in some surprise ones a few times. IBetween the two of us I was more likely to do so, though.
Did you like it?
If she did then I probably did during that time.
Who was your date to senior prom?
We have junior prom, not senior prom. I just bought my favorite cousin since I had no interest in boys and was still learning how to make guy friends at that point.
Does your dad smoke?
No, he’s never tried.
Is your mom over 50?
She is turning 50 this year, but not until September.
Do you want to get married?
It would be nice to experience it.
Have kids?
Yes.
Are there any movies coming out you wanna see?
Not that I know of. There are movies I do want to see, but they’ve already come out, like Ammonite and I Care A Lot.
Do you ever feel like you're leading a double life?
No.
Do you have any plans to get a new tattoo or piercing?
Tattoo, yeah. I’m just super chill about said plan and am not really in a hurry about it. I’ve yet to think of a design and where on my body to place it.
Do you know anyone named Christine?
I know several people named Christine but they go by a nickname, like Tin.
Do you know anyone who's biracial?
Sure, I went to high school with a couple of girls who are both half-brown and half-white as they both have European dads. I believe one of them is part German while the other girl is part Swiss.
Do you know anyone who works at Walmart?
I don’t think so. I know my aunts who live in the US will occasionally shop there though, hahaha.
Has the last person you rode in a car with seen you in your underwear?
I mean yeah, as a baby and as a young kid (it was my mom).
Are black bras sexy?
They can be, sure.
Spell your full name without 'C','I','R', or 'Y':
Obn.
Open the nearest book, turn to page 11, and type the first sentence:
I’m at a Starbucks rn and didn’t bring any books with me.
Are you currently listening to anything?
There’s jazz music faintly playing at the moment.
Would you ever consider getting breast implants?
Before I definitely used to, when people still liked to make fun of small boobs. Nowadays I don’t feel the need to anymore.
If you could spend 30 minutes with someone who's gone, who would you pick?
I’d probably pick my great-grandpa over my grandpa. I never met the former; and if I only had 30 minutes with my grandpa (who I did grow up with) I think it would just fuck with me psychologically.
Are you on birth control?
Nopes.
Do you know anyone who is bisexual?
Lots.
Would you walk into Walmart naked for $10,000?
Yes.
Does anyone call you babe?
No.
Do you hate it when people try to play with your hair?
If I’m not close enough to them I would feel bothered, yes.
Who would you tell, or who did you tell when you lost your virginity?
I think I had just told Sofie then.
Were you in a relationship 6 months ago?
Yeah but it was cracking and it was cracking fast. It’ll be hitting 6 months this March, actually.
Are you still with that person?
No.
Are you the kind of person who has crazy mood swings?
No. This happens to my mom and I hate it very much, so I try to watch my actions and not switch rapidly between different moods.
This is question 69...so have you ;)?
Sure.
How long is it until your birthday?
Around a month and a couple of weeks.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
A love letter to The Wombats
First, a brief background about The Wombats: The Wombats is an interesting English Indie Rock Band. They started back in 2003 in Liverpool, United Kingdom. The most interesting thing about them is how experimental they are with their albums — considering their vast range. One might think that The Wombats don’t care about what you and I think. They care about their art and what that represents. This is what makes them free to do whatever they want. Now, the album that I want to talk about is some of their earlier work. It was released back in 2007. Damn, that feels like an eternity ago. So let’s begin our journey.
The first track: Tales of Girls, Boys and Marsupials. For me, this track prepares you for what’s to come. It is a good melody and relatively simple. I’ve always enjoyed it because of how strange it is. From this, we move onto the second track.
Kill the Director. This is the song that brought me to the album, and for a long time, it was one of the most played songs for me on Spotify. When I think of this song, I think of the music video which you should watch. The song is different from the first track, and it is faster and has a lot of content. My favourite things are British pop culture references. The nods to Bridget Jones’s Diary and EastEnders make this a quintessentially British song.
Track 3: Moving to New York, this song has always been close to my heart because it is edgy. It tells us what the British think of American cities like New York. I have always had trouble understanding this song due to multiple reasons. Even right now while I’m reading the lyrics and thinking about what to write about them, I am confused. If you look at it literally, the song talks about sleeplessness and Christmas for some reason. Now, let me tell you what I feel about it. This has always been a song to which I headbang and do the air guitar. I never really understood the lyrics. I probably never will. Though, my favourite part has been these lines.
“I put one foot forward and ended up 30 yards back.
Am I losing touch, or am I just completely off the track?
And I don’t know why I want to voice this out loud.
It’s therapeutic somehow.”
Especially the line, “Am I losing touch or am I just completely off track”. Back when I first heard this song, the pandemic was at its peak. I was preparing for entrances, and life was a mess. I related to this, and I’m sure you guys will as well. This song will make you feel things and reconsider life as a whole.
Now, moving onto track 4, Lost in the Post. This is the most popular song on the album. The song sounds surprisingly happy, but when you pay attention, the lyrics are depressing. It is my kind of music because it tells us a story with a catchy chorus. The line that has stuck with me is “She Wanted Mary Poppins but I took her to King Lear”. It represents so much more than you and I can comprehend. It represents not being enough and a theme of overcompensation followed by under-compensation. Its a simple song but the Wombats have done a good job of packing it with references. It is a song about insecurities and love, the two things that are fundamental to any artist.
Track 5: Party in a Forest(Where’s Laura?). Laura, oh, Laura. I will never truly understand this song. Is it a love letter to Laura or is it a desperate man singing for a girl who will never love him back? Throughout the song, he keeps calling out to Laura, but there’s no response. By the end of it, it seems like he has almost given up. Maybe I’m just reading too much into music, or perhaps this boy is writing songs about a gender he doesn’t understand.
Track 6 is something most of us can relate to. Titled “Schools Uniform”, it is literally from the perspective of a teenage boy going through puberty. It is not the typical “Oh. I miss school” song, but maybe a more realistic approach to what school was. Those uniforms, which most of us claim to miss, perhaps made a joke of us. He sings about a girl he likes and who he used to be friends with, but now she has an older boyfriend. The most important thing about this song is how teens romanticise/think that smoking is cool. It’s the whole trope of doing something because someone else is doing it. After all, someone has deemed it cool. The song does an excellent job of talking about how teenagers try their best to fit in to get the validation they so desperately want. This is generally executed by doing things that most of the time is not good for them, and here ends track 6.
Moving on to track 7, the song I’m most excited to write about. Here Comes the Anxiety is the epitome of a cry for help. It is probably the most painful to listen to because it doesn’t even hide that it is sad. I have to give it credit for being honest about its message. In a messed up way, this taught me how to be honest about myself. The song starts by calling out what I think is all music where creators hide the real message behind catchy hooks and other techniques. The essence of the song is hypocritical; it has a catchy hook line(It is literally in the title). The song is just lying to you; it tries to sell an honest image, but it is not. Don’t get me wrong, it is a good song, but it is just like everything else. It is a dark song like it claims to be. It is a song about a lonely man who doesn’t want to be alone, and that’s about it for track 7.
Let’s Dance to Joy Division is one of my favourite songs. So, I have a sort of personal bias towards it. It is happy and real but also quite sad. The lines
“Everything is going wrong but we’re so happy” perfectly captures the essence of this kind of music. It is happy music, so don’t question it. You don’t need to be comfortable while listening to it, maybe sing along and pretend that your life isn’t going to shit. My interpretation of this song is, you shouldn’t question life while it is happening. If something has to go wrong, it probably will, so why even worry about it. Just be happy and maybe play this on a loop.
Track 9 is Backfire at the Disco. It describes a heterosexual first date. A guy gets ready at 8 pm, meets the girl and then gets slapped. The story is pretty straightforward. The guy makes a move at the wrong time. The girl slaps him in response and has to go back home alone at 3 am. What’s important to me isn’t the story but how it’s told. The song starts with how everything is fine and how it is all going okay. It sounds like the girl is in the wrong and that we should feel bad for the guy. The song gets pretty misogynistic when he calls her dress whorish. To give him some credit, he does admit his mistake by the end, but then it is too late, and the narrative has been set. This victimisation of the perpetrator is extremely harmful. It creates a story that men don’t know what to do and how it is an honest mistake. This message is toxic, and anyone listening to this should keep this in mind.
Little Miss Pipedream describes a toxic one-sided relationship. The song is comparatively slower-paced, where the stress is on the lyrics. The song expects us to feel sympathy for this man who is madly in love with this girl. The protagonist is portrayed as a friendly guy who is willing to wait for this girl. This man has selfish ideas of love, and he’s trying to convince the listeners to sympathise with him. These ideas are selfish because they are all based around him. Lyrics like, “Don’t leave miss pipedream cause I love you.” is an example of what is incorrect with this song. Pop culture has often romanticised these ideas and portrayed these men as heroes.
Track 11 is about a therapist named Dr Susan. It is clear that Dr Susan is treating and is prescribing him narcotics. He is infatuated with her and is willing to do anything for her. This is clearly some toxic behaviour. The singer keeps repeating “This Time” which means that he has done this before. The most concerning thing is “Help Me Help Help Me, Susan”. We can see a theme where he asks for help but no one gives it to him and there ends track 11.
Track 12 is about loving a woman who doesn’t want to be loved. The singer has fallen in love with a stripper and is willing to do anything to be with her. His behaviour indicates that he has lost track of reality. In his head, his actions are part of a grander love story but it is psychotic behaviour. This is ironic cause the last song was about a therapist. He clearly knows what he is doing is wrong but he still continues to do so. This entire song does a good job of showing a messed up, toxic relationship between a desperate man and a stripper.
The story of Track 13 is set at the wedding of the protagonist’s ex-girlfriend. It does something unusual by portraying alcoholic tendencies at a wedding. The lyrics make it clear that he still has some feelings for his ex-girlfriend. I don’t know where the blame lies on this one because of the conflicting narratives. The repetition of the line, “She’s not that beautiful” shows us his hatred towards the bride and how our emotions are more complex than they seem. One would assume that after all this time he wouldn’t resent his old partner but he does. This is because humans are complicated and irrational and there’s nothing we can do about it. This also shows how when we are with someone everything seems romantic but when they leave we criticise all their actions. To conclude, the song is quite entertaining and definitely worth listening to.
If you have read this until now and not skimmed as most people will, you must be thinking that all these songs sound somewhat similar. It’s a simple boy loves girl plot which is portrayed in multiple different settings. Before I started writing this, I thought that I would have something unique to write about each song, but I don’t. As I moved on from track to track, I realised that most of these are about the same thing. Does this mean the songs are not great? No, of course not, they are amazing. Each track is unique and has a storyline, the music is good, and that’s why people enjoy it. Music is subjective, and at the end of the day, my opinion means jackshit. Yeah, enjoy the music; I hope what I wrote made you think and introspect about the music you listen to.
1 note
·
View note
Text
TIFF 2020: Days 1 & 2
Films: 5
Best Film of the Day(s): One Night in Miami
One Night in Miami…: I guess you could form an argument that basing a film on a pre-existing play would make the feature easier to put together, but that wouldn’t be taking into account the tremendous differences between the mediums, their relative strengths and weaknesses. For her feature debut, the Oscar-winning actress Regina King has cinematically adapted the stage play by Kemp Powers about a fictionalized fateful night amongst four famous Black men in 1964. Those men, Malcolm X (Kingsley Ben-Adir), Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge), Sam Cooke (Leslie Odom Jr.), and Cassius Clay (Eli Goree), are all in town ostensibly to celebrate Clay’s beatdown of Sonny Liston to first become the heavyweight champion of the world at the tender age of 22. But the film puts them all together in Malcolm X’s modest hotel room, watched over by Nation of Islam security men, to spend a night, essentially, debating the merits of what they bring to the struggle for Black equality and economic emancipation, and arguing back and forth about their distinct positions. Here is precisely where many play adaptations falter, without the dramatic friction of a live performance to power the emotional core, such conventions generally fall flat on the screen, but King’s virtuoso acting instincts serve her able cast well, and her work with DP Tami Reiker allows the film to flow, seemingly organically between its few location movements. Working from a skilled script by Powers, the celebrated figures feel three dimensional, which gives even their more didactic diatribes (Malcolm), and pithy rebuttals (Cooke) enough weight to avoid sounding contrived. The cast work wonders on the material, granting a needed organic vibe to their nonfiction characters, echoing the essences without tipping into caricature. It’s a strong debut for King, and the film’s complex ruminations on the responsibility of successful Black people towards their community as a means of bringing attention to the country’s oppression couldn’t be more on point. At one point Clay tells Cooke the four of them will always remain friends, because they are among the few who can possibly understand what it’s like to be “young, Black, famous, righteous, and unapologetic.”
Shiva Baby: Danielle (Rachel Sennott) is in the midst of having a day. Turns out Max (Danny Deferrari), the sugar daddy with whom she has frequently been visiting as part of her regular prostitution gig, is somehow a friend or cousin of the deceased at the same Shiva she has come to attend with her well-meaning, but completely overwhelming parents (Polly Draper and Fred Melamed). If that weren’t enough in Emma Seligman’s spry comedy, Danielle is also horrified to find Maya (Molly Gordon), a successful young woman she’s known for years, and a recent ex, also there. Crammed into the Shiva house, full of cousins and aunts and uncles all kvetching about everyone else, and being physically grabbed and moved about by her mother, Danielle faces this house of horrors, with everyone commenting concernedly on her weight-loss (“You look like Gwyneth Paltrow — on food stamps!” her mother hisses at her), and her lack of job prospects when she graduates, and her parents telling scathingly embarrassing stories about her in front of Max and his shiksa wife (Dianna Argon), whose 18-month-old baby, her mom says is “freakishly pale — and no nose,” with no respite in sight. As a result of this sort of hyper-scrutiny, Danielle goes the only route that makes any sense: Lying to everybody about nearly everything, from her current major (“gender business”), to the many job interviews she has supposedly lined up. She’s just trying to get through the ordeal, one that Seligman, along with a continually spiraling score from Ariel Marx, ratchets up, until, near the end, poor Danielle is in a near fugue state, sweat glistening on her face, and the attendees, shot in unflattering slo-mo, and distorted lenses, take on the sheen of a waking nightmare. At a brisk 77 minutes, the film still doesn’t have quite enough to sustain its running time — at a certain point it begins doubling back on itself — but it’s still a lot of horrific fun, as Seligman expertly captures the absolute loss of agency one can feel, swallowed up in a claustrophobic family gathering, where escape feels futile.
Limbo: If Scotland has a cinematic identity, as such, it seems like the kind of place, desolate and unforgiving, where individuals come to exit regular society and come to a land filled with eccentric loners (stoic and unique in their oddities), in order to get better in touch with their souls. Ben Sharrock’s serio-comedy captures both the pitiless beauty of the land, and the lonely plight of a Syrian immigrant, Omar (Amir El-Masry), waiting with a group of other men from across the Middle East and Africa, on an island off the mainland, for word from the Immigration Office that his bid for political asylum has been accepted. Omar, sweet-faced and approachable, was a musician by trade in his native Syria, and walks around everywhere carrying his precious oud, bequeathed to him by his grandfather, also a musician, even though his right hand is locked in a cast from an unspecified injury. Even without the cast, however, you get the sense that his heart really isn’t into playing, despite the entreaties from Farhad (Vikash Bhai), his Afghani roomie and self-appointed “agent and manager,” who wants him to enter a local music contest. Omar is carrying a significant amount of weight beyond missing his mother’s fragrant home-cooking. Talking to her on the lone payphone on the island, where other immigrants-in-waiting stand in line for a chance to hear from home, she implores him to speak to his older brother, who chose to stay behind in Syria and fight in the Civil War that has plagued the region for years. Omar feels guilty for having left, and suffers from having disappointed his father in the process. It doesn’t help him that the culture he finds himself in seems so foreign to him, despite his speaking flawless English. Sharrock’s brand of deadpan perfectly suits the setting, but as funny as the film can be (when asked in a culture/language class to create a sentence using the “I used to” construction, one immigrant offers “I used to be happy before I came here”), it doesn’t paint a rosy affirmation for Omar and his ilk, stuck as they are, as the title suggests, between countries and lives. Omar’s pain is real, and for every positive step forward he takes, it’s one further away from his family and his beloved home country.
Enemies of the State: Sonia Kennebeck’s challenging and curious documentary seems at first to present a case for its protagonist, Matt DeHart, a young teen hacker interested in social justice, who through his work with Wikileaks runs afoul of the U.S. government, and his beleaguered parents, Paul and Leann, who vigorously defend their only child against the evil forces conspiring against him. Through a series of personal interviews with Paul and Leann, both retired Air Force intelligence officers, who believe their country has turned against them for what Matt had downloaded from his computer into secret thumbdrives shortly before the FBI arrived at their door and confiscated all his equipment, and various lawyers they employed, first to protect Matt from what they claim as utterly bogus child-porn charges, then, after they slip away to Canada in the middle of the night, the lawyers trying to earn them asylum. While in Canada, under close supervision and confined to his parents’ apartment, Matt uses his charms, his hackavist bonafides, and his skill at PR, to generate enough interest in his case to become a digital cause celebe, along the lines of Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning. Protests are fronted, defense funds gathered, and pressure put on the government to come clean about why they seem so hard-driving against the young man. During a peculiar reenactment set in a Canadian immigration hearing — Kennebeck employs actors who apparently lip sync their lines in perfect time with the actual recorded audio — DeHart describes a harrowing ordeal earlier in the affair, after having moved to Canada to attend college, being abducted by the FBI shortly after crossing the border to renew his Visa, and tortured for days for information related to the material on the thumb-drives. Some documentation seems to corroborate his claims (even Paul and Leann, as fierce supporters as can be, were shocked to see just how ready the FBI were to snatch him), but as the film continues, and we hear more and more from the investigators and prosecuting attorneys about the original child-pornography crimes, it becomes clear that our sympathies are being played with by Kennebeck. By the end, the film itself becomes an indictment of our rapid-assumption culture, in which decisions of guilt and innocence are determined in seconds online and forever after based on the presentation of information before us.
The Way I See It: For non Trumpites, the switchover from eight years of the dignified, intelligent, and measured leadership of Barack Obama, to the perma-tanned tackiness of power-mad, narcissistic bloviating of Donald Trump, was like a double-feature that went from Citizen Kane to Kevin James’ Loudest Farts. One man better than most to measure Obama’s time in office against the subsequent regime is photojournalist Pete Souza, who served as the official White House photographer for both of Obama’s terms, and has gone on to become an outspoken critic of Trump by way of his devastating IG account, in which he juxtaposes stately Obama photos with Trumps scandal-du-jour. Lest you think he’s just another divisively partisan liberal, you have to take into account his previous turn in the White House, as one of the official photographers for Ronald Reagan’s presidency. In fact, Souza’s fly-on-the-wall quality was considered one of his strengths in the oval office. Documentarian Dawn Porter travels with Souza as he makes the media rounds promoting his newest book, Shade, a collection of those IG photos that have earned him millions of social media followers (a sort of companion piece to his previous book Obama: An Intimate Portrait). Hauling from far-off India (where he gets a standing ovation before he even takes the stage), to domestic conferences and speaking engagements, Souza emerges as a man becoming more used to being out from behind his ever-present Canon lens. Through that lens, as he displays to his rapturous audiences, he has taken many hundreds of indelible photos, showing Obama’s various interactions with foreign dignitaries, his council of cabinet members, and his more raucous time with his two daughters (one shot of Obama with his girls making snow angels on the rear lawn during a heavy snow storm remains his computer screensaver, Souza says with pride). As Porter moves from talking heads to public oratories, Souza’s remarkable photos — brilliantly composed, and inspiringly intimate, having been given nearly unlimited access to the president — play throughout, showing us a collection of images that capture the inspiring hope the president inspired and the agonizing rigors of the job he was elected to perform. The film spends little time on his Reagan years, except to note how media and image-savvy the former Hollywood actor and his wife were (Souza professes no political ill-will towards the Reagans, other than noting that while he didn’t always agree with him, he was a genuinely caring man, who at least understood the parameters of leadership). At first, the film trolls Trump by a sort of subtweet level of backhandedness: Without directly naming names, Souza makes it entirely clear who he finds failing in comparison to Obama’s empathetic, engaging deportment, but by the time the film comes around to his notorious IG account, there can be no doubt the subject of his ire. Souza maintains it has less to do with his partisan feelings (his political affiliation is never revealed), and more the way he finds the current president’s undignified manner and total disrespect for the office and the leadership it demands unacceptable. Trumpers will of course take great exception to the portrait the film portrays of the sitting president, but even the most hardcore GOP folks won’t be able to help noting the blatant differences between the loving, genuinely close Obamas; and the preening, viciously competitive Trumps, each trying to outdo the others in acting as their father’s primary sycophant.
In a year of bizarre happenings, and altered realities, TIFF has shifted its gears to a significantly paired down virtual festival. Thus, U.S. film critics are regulated to watching the international offerings from our own living room couches.
#sweet smell of success#ssos#piers marchant#films#movies#TIFF#tiff 2020#toronto international film festival#one night in miami#regina king#limbo#The way I see it#pete souza#nomadland#frances mcdormand#chloe zhao#the new corporation#summer of 85#francois ozon
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
in which amy’s family is nosy
translations of the spanish are included in brackets. thanks to @florchis for help with translating! any other mistakes are mine, and please feel free to correct me. i’m cuban myself, so all culture stuff is from personal experience.
The phone rings in the kitchen. Jake sighs and pauses the tv, already wishing he could get back to it.
It’s the first time all week that he’s gotten a chance to sit down and actually catch up on his shows. Well, he says shows. All he really does is turn on HGTV and watch House Hunters until he can’t keep his eyes open.
But hey, it’s what he likes. He’s never liked sitcoms or intricate fantasy subplots.
He stands up from the couch, grabs his water, and makes his way into the kitchen. It’s nine at night, and he’s alone in the apartment. Amy’s working a late shift, trying to solve a case that she’s been working on for two weeks.
His dinner was a microwaved hot dog and a glass of water. He doesn’t know why he bothers leaving the office without her, except that he’s been craving some time where he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. Even his wife.
He reaches the landline, dodging the sticky spot on the floor that’s been there for four days. “Yeah?”
“Mijita, para el cumpleaños de Jorgito- permiso, ¿quien estas? ¿Donde esta Amy?” [Honey, for Jorgito’s birthday- excuse me, who is this? Where is Amy?]
“Uh-” he says. His Spanish is still pretty terrible, all things considered. “Estoy su- darn it, uh- su esposa. Esposo. Estoy el esposo de Amy.” [I’m her- darn it, uh- her wife. Husband. I’m Amy’s husband.]
“Ah, Jacob!” says the woman on the other end. “I am Amy’s Tia Maria Carmen.”
Her English is accented but carefully pronounced, as if she knows he can’t speak Spanish. “Hi,” he says, relieved. “Sorry, Amy’s still at work. She won’t be home for a while. Hard case and all.”
“Ah,” says Maria. “She has always worked hard.” Jake can hear her smile on the other end of the line. “I am glad to speak with you, Jacob. Your wedding was so complicated.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling ruefully, even though she can’t see him. “Bomb threats and all. I’m sorry none of you got to make it.”
Okay, so he was looking forward to his night off, but he doesn’t mind taking a few minutes to talk to Amy’s aunt. He regrets not getting to meet her extended family at the wedding. She’s so close with them, and he wants to meet the family he married into.
“We wish we had gotten to go, too,” says Maria. “To see Amy’s wedding, and to meet you. But you are coming to Jorgito’s party on Sunday, yes?”
“Uh...” he says, thinking fast. They hadn’t gotten an invitation in the mail, but that might mean he missed it. Should he try to cover his tracks? Oh, well, everyone already knows he has the attention span of a fly. “I didn’t know there was one.”
She chuckles. “It is okay. This is why I called Amy. The invitation says 12:30, but everyone should show up at 1:30.”
“Oh,” he says. “Why not just put 1:30 on the invitation?”
“Because they will arrive at 2:30,” she says, patiently. “Can you tell her, please?”
“Yeah, of course,” he says. “I think we can make it.” Rule number one of relationships: don’t agree on behalf of both of you until you get to discuss it. “But I’ll have to check with Amy.”
“Tell her to tell her mother,” says Maria. “She will tell me. Thank you, Jacob. It was nice to speak with you.”
She pronounces his name Yakob, sort of like the Hebrew pronunciation. It’s strangely comforting.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Goodnight.”
“Hasta luego,” she says, and hangs up.
A few hours later, Amy unlocks the door and walks inside, waking him up from his light doze on the couch. She hangs up her coat and leans down to kiss his forehead. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi, Ames,” he whispers.
As he feels around the couch for the remote to turn off Property Brothers, she goes into the bedroom to take off her shoes and plug in her phone. He pulls the remote over and squints to find the power button.
He must fall asleep again, because the next thing he knows, she’s lying down on the couch, molded to his side.
“How’s the case?” he asks, yawning. He puts an arm around her shoulder, relishing having her close. He’s gotten his alone-time and is back to loving his Amy-time.
“It’s going well. We’re gonna crack it tomorrow. I have a good feeling.”
“Awesome,” he murmurs, and then blinks awake. “Oh, right. Your aunt called.”
He can hear the frown in her voice. “My aunt?”
“Your Tia Maria.”
She shakes her head, her hair brushing against his shoulder. “Which one? There’s three.”
“Maria... hm... wait, there’s actually three of them? That’s cool. I don’t remember her name, though. It was a C-name.”
“Maria Carmen?”
“Yes!” he says, pointing at the ceiling. “Yes. She called about Jorgito’s birthday party on Sunday?”
“Yeah?” says Amy. “We got the invitation.”
“Oh, we did?” he says. “That’s one question answered. Anyways, she wanted to tell you to show up at 1:30, not 12:30.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“Why did she do that?” he asks, just realizing it. “I mean, you’re super punctual.”
“Exactly,” she says. “Cubans are generally late to things, so people put early times on the invitation. It’s cultural.”
“And you’re never late.”
“Nope,” says Amy. “Not me, not my brothers, not my parents. So we have to show up an hour later on purpose.”
“But your parents’ sister still put late times on the invitations? Your parents are the odd ones of their siblings, huh.”
“What? My aunt- oh. Tia Carmen isn’t my aunt, technically. None of the Marias are. Tia translates to aunt, but it really means any female relative that’s my parents’ age or older.”
“Oh,” says Jake. “That... makes things easier.”
“Yeah,” says Amy. She kisses his shoulder, and he smiles into the darkness. “You didn’t have any problems understanding her?”
“What? No. Her accent was really understandable. She spoke really slowly for me too, which was nice.”
“Yeah,” says Amy. “Good. Of course, that’s why she called you. She has the best English out of all the aunts.”
“What?” asks Jake. “She didn’t call me, remember? She called you.”
“No,” says Amy, drawing out the word. “I told my mom that I was staying late at the precinct today. The aunts show up to my parents’ house on Wednesday nights, when my grandmother holds coffee hour, and my mom would have told them I was busy. Not to mention I already know to show up an hour after the time on the invitation.” She smiles into his shoulder. “Anyway, if someone were actually going to call me about Jorgito’s birthday party, it would be Jorge.”
“Who’s Jorge?”
“Jorgito’s dad,” says Amy, like it’s obvious. On second thought, it probably was. “My second cousin.”
Jake shakes his head, feeling betrayed. “So... she called just to talk to me?”
“Yeah, probably on behalf of all the aunts,” says Amy. “I mean, they want to meet you. They didn’t get to go to our wedding, and you’re family now.” She sits up and smiles at him “I’m sorry she lured you under false pretenses, though.”
He shrugs. “I suppose I can forgive them,” he says, turning his nose up. “More or less. Maybe.”
“That’s my husband,” says Amy, grinning at him. She holds out her hand. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
“As you wish,” he says, and takes it.
#b99#b99fic#peraltiago#cuban characters#amy santiago#jake peralta#sb and l writes#otp: he makes me laugh#latina tag#amy santiago is cuban not mexican or anything else#i may throw this up on ao3#this was gonna be part of a larger fic#but the larger fic turned into a longer thing about more complicated emotions#and meanwhile this one is simple and adorable#i love these two!! i love them so much!! they're so soft and married!!#this fic sponsored by my mother who is a chronically early cuban#(seems contradictory i know)#and therefore has to consciously force herself to show up an hour after the time on the invites
51 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
warui-hime
misguided soul
acn-newswire
ACN Newswire
latinopercy
king of swords (reversed)
aquaticbase
A one way ticket to oblivion...
all-da-ladies-luv-leoo
im tragically funny