#exacerbated by her fame
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okay i am going to say something potentially controversial about sb94 now that i'm partway through and say that i think a lot of the big problems with it are exacerbated by the fact that karl kesel and ron marz had two different narratives they wanted to explore/tell regarding kon.
kesel very much wanted to explore the exploitation of the child star--and everyone around kon is exploiting him. rex is exploiting him for money and tana is exploiting him for her job. and i agree, kesel didn't go near hard enough in condemning the tana & kon relationship, but there are definitely nuggets there that the people around them knew it was shady and that the writers knew tana was wrong for pursuing it (you get her coworkers gossiping about her at the water cooler, her boss removing her from superboy stories because of conflict of interest, she's got a nasty look on her face while beefing with 16 year old girls, there's a decent amount of references to kon being underage the weekend before they get together she spends the whole weekend nagging and complaining about him before finally deciding to aggressively go for it when he's at his absolute lowest....i'm just saying that none of that comes across as particularly aspirational to most 16 year old boys lmao.). there's an expectation that as a working star, kon is expected to be an adult and have adult maturity despite being a child still. and nobody is protecting him because they probably don't see him as a human, let alone a child by the nature of his fame. who would be there to intervene and help anyway? everyone is exploiting him, they have something to gain from keeping him under their thumb, they're not there to protect him. some names you should consider while reading this part of the run are drew barrymore and brooke shields. in more recent memory, jennette mccurdy is another excellent one to consider. so when you ask why nobody is interventing and condemning characters like tana and knockout, it's the same reason nobody batted an eye at drew's mother giving her cocaine at 9. or brooke shields being in pretty baby. even today people get outraged at some 30 year old actor dating a 17 year old, but nobody ever actually intervenes in those situations to protect the child in question and the 30 year old is almost never punished socially or professionally for their skeezy behavior.
and immediately after the knockout storyline, you pivot over to ron marz. and marz very much preferred to explore the peter pan, never going to grow up, what is the humanity of a clone angle versus the child star angle. marz is the one who froze kon at 16 because he wanted to explore the peter pan angle of the boy who is not human and can't grow up and talk about the ramifications of cloning and humanness, makes the love triangle with tana and roxy really stupid and forefront to the narrative without ever touching on the exploitation angle of any of it, gets rid of rex and his exploitation of kon, and increases kon's immaturity as just a perverted teenage boy who is now the aggressor in the relationship vs the exploitee, and so you get almost this incongruence and inability to resolve the exploitation in any satisfactory way because the story has changed. kesel wanted to tell the story of a child star who was forced to grow up and mature too fast and marz the story of a boy who can't grow up at all. idk. and those narratives don't have to be diametrically opposed and, in fact, could work together interestingly for kon, but the way they're written really only serve to exacerbate the overall flaws and problems of the other.
add that to the fact that the themes they were going for weren't necessarily written well and were very, very 90s in their nature and you end up kind of being able to see how exactly that book ended up so problematic in so many ways.
#now i am only partially through my read i reserve the right to change my mind#but this is just my 2 cents so far
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lol yeah a vibe i've gotten from tswift's recent albums is that she's keenly aware she's aging out of the popstar hot popularity zone and is afraid some new girl will rise and come from her crown. i think with folklore she tried to "downsize" to something more #quality and intimate (see how the lover tour was supposed to be small scale, the paris sessions etc — she was afraid to go Big worried she'd top). but then folklore became SUCH a huge hit and she decided to capture the cultural momentum with midnights / huge ass world tour / now this. it's like she'd started to accept that maybe she'd hit her peak with 1989 era, tried to steer her career into something less overexposed she could be content in succeeding at, then got a fame boost and swerved HARD right back into popstar megastardom. she'll put out whatever keeps her at the peak for as long as she can, then downsize into cosplaying jodi mitchell
I assumed folklore was her going. See world I’m a serious artist I bet you feel silly about spurning my unicorn spelling is fun two album now. But yes yeah she’s Very transparently worried about being Too Old and getting replaced. She’s written at least half a dozen songs that are like. I am a so obviously a career woman but people keep asking me when I’m going to give up this silly music stuff to settle down with a nice man and get married and have kids. Obviously Taylor is Taylor forever and would have jumped at the chance to be Mega Star in every world every opportunity but. Invasive and misogynistic speculation incoming. Btw. But one has to wonder if the dissolution of a long term six year relationship where all the gossip is about when you’re going to get married. Exacerbates the whole. Well I REALLY have to throw everything into my entire career I REALLY have to be The Best I REALLY have to skew my work life balance badly into the work direction
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I’ve been a longtime believer that Taylor swift needs to shut the fuck up forever ™ but as of late, I want her to keep talking. Please keep telling on herself, admitting that she’s a racist and a nazi sympathizer. If it gets everyone to turn on her and ends her career, I’ll upchuck through this terrible album release if it means I can eventually never hear her voice again.
The thing is - she could be a great critical voice to speak about fame’s effects and how it exacerbates the problems she already has from a mental health perspective. But any moment of honest reflection about her faults stays in a single song line and doesn’t actually change her toxic patterns. I was thinking about how Halsey has self-awareness about her mental health to the point of naming an album Manic. There’s a measurable difference in maturity and insight between the two. Taylor has grandiosity, codependency, strong abandonment schema (in her own words, her worst fear is being alone and abandoned). Her mom is her ‘therapist’ so she’ll never gain any traction on these problems.
But nah chasing that twin flame toxic shit with Walmart Russell Brand and in the process destroying any credibility she ever had or attempted to foster as an inclusive brand is more important. I’m sure they had the sick chemistry of two people who handle their mental health stuff in the worst possible way. But tee hee-ing about human trafficking SHOULD be a non-starter and if she’s bitter about that, sorry? You literally tried to make inclusiveness a core pillar of your brand? She’s doing her JK Rowling-style brand swan dive right now
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What do you think the narrative significance is of Viserys (Rhaenyra’s son) egg not hatching, if there is any at all? I know it’s not guaranteed for an egg to hatch, but it seems strange for Rhaenyra’s kids to go 4 for 5 on that.
Number one, it exacerbates the tension between the black and green factions in the last decade of King Viserys I’s reign. The green faction (and those sympathetic to it) had already used dragon hatching, or rather the presumed lack thereof, as a means of undermining Rhaenyra’s sons by (ostensibly) Laenor Velaryon, as “[t]hose who doubted the paternity of Rhaenyra’s sons whispered that the eggs would never hatch”. These predictions had obviously not materialized, but young Prince Viserys and his unhatched egg allowed a new opportunity for doomsaying declarations on the part of the green faction. Even though Viserys (and his brother Prince Aegon the Younger) were too obviously Daemon’s sons to question their paternity, the green faction could still take the fact that Viserys’ egg had not hatched “for an ill omen”, and “not [be] shy about saying as much”. In the near-constant jockeying for position between the black and green factions in the lead-up to the Dance, the distribution of dragons among the various members of each faction created a number of opportunities for conflict and sniping; with the black faction having, at least on paper, the draconic numerical advantage at King Viserys’ death, the fact that his namesake had not hatched a dragon gave the green faction one chance to cast doubts on its rival faction.
Number two, it provides a practical reason as to why the youngest sons of Rhaenyra were separated, and how Viserys ended up a captive and exile in Lys for several years. Although the future King Aegon III had never ridden his dragon prior to the assault on the boys’ transport (and never would again, since Stormcloud died of its wounds immediately after Aegon’s return to Dragonstone), Viserys could not attempt the same flight without a dragon of his own. Instead, and in a display of the canniness which would mark his adult life, Viserys “hid his dragon’s egg and changed into ragged, salt-stained clothing, pretending to be no more than a common ship’s boy” - a trick only possible (and albeit ultimately not successfully) because a dragon’s egg was far easier to hide than a living dragon (especially one which might have been several years old by that point). Too, while Viserys was taken prisoner and kept as a prisoner by several successive Lysene power players, I think his presence in Lys was successfully kept quiet, at least in terms of Westerosi knowledge, in part because Viserys had no dragon to identify himself too clearly as a lost Targaryen. (Compare, say, the rumors that have reached Westeros, even in garbled fashion, about Dany and her dragons, from much farther away than Viserys’ exile in Lys.) A Valyrian-looking boy, in a city famed for the Valyrian looks of its populace, would attract far less notice on the international stage than a prince with a living dragon at his side, especially by those interested in keeping him hidden (as Sharako Lohar and Bambarro Bazanne had been, and to a lesser extent the Rogares). In turn, Drazenko Rogare and Alyn Velaryon could engineer the dramatic reveal of Viserys as a major surprise, returned to his brother’s court seemingly from the dead.
Number three, it establishes a source of difference, even opposition between the two brothers. Where the now-King Aegon III had developed an intense dislike and fear of dragons - given his harrowing escape on Stormcloud and his witness to mother’s death when she was burned and devoured by Sunfyre - the future King Viserys II had no such qualms. Having grown up in an environment where draconic presence was normalized, indeed expected (but, perhaps crucially, never experienced by Viserys directly) and then spent the majority of the Dance (and its immediate aftermath) in a dragonless Lysene exile, Viserys had not endured the same dragon-based horrors suffered by his brother. Consequently, I think Viserys was far more willing to encourage the re-introduction and fostering of dragons and dragonriding, as a sort of Targaryen inheritance which he himself had never received but which held, as Gyldayn notes with respect to Viserys and his egg, “great meaning for him”. Viserys in turn would use his “best efforts” to “persuade his brother the king to come see his sister fly” after Rhaena took to the skies on Morning; Viserys would “gr[o]w most wroth” after “Aegon commanded that no dragon’s eggs were to be allowed in his castle” and “[refuse] to speak to King Aegon for a moon’s turn; Viserys would, later in his brother’s reign advise the king to “sen[d] away for nine mages from Essos, attempting to use their arts to kindle a clutch of eggs” (and, of course, Viserys would give his sons their own eggs in the cradle). If Aegon III was the Dragonbane, largely (if not absolutely) antagonistic toward dragons following the Dance, Viserys was, perhaps, the Dragonfriend, eager to return to the seemingly ideal draconic state of affairs he himself had only known secondhand as a boy.
Number four, it allows the author, should he so choose, to link the future Viserys II to the decline and extinction of the dragons (and/or to be popularly linked as such). Of course Viserys was not the only Targaryen, even prior to 153 AC, not to have an egg hatch; after all, young Maelor only had an egg rather than the dragons hatched by his twin elder siblings. (Indeed, the Targaryens had pursued their cradle egg initiative so sporadically that it is virtually impossible to develop any real conclusions about when dragons would and would not hatch in such circumstances.) Nevertheless, because Viserys so openly lacked a dragon despite having an egg from babyhood, Viserys might have served as something of a portent of disaster for the Targaryens and their dragons, especially as the latter entered terminal decline and became extinct. Would Viserys have been viewed (especially by his zealous daughter and pious son Aemon) as, perhaps, part of the Seven’s punishment for the Targaryens’ heretical incest and Doctrine of Exceptionalism - this son of an uncle and niece, grandson and great-grandson of brother-sister unions, subsequently damned by the gods for his heritage? Would those lingering green supporters (including the allies of the various “false Daeron” claimants and the seemingly dragon-backed Alys Rivers at Harrenhal) argue that Viserys’ dragonlessness was a sign that his branch of the family was unfit to rule (especially if any of those “false Daeron” claimants received, say, Maelor’s dragon egg, and especially if that egg hatched)? Did any part of Viserys’ potential desire for power in his own right (which I think led him to murder his nephew Baelor and assume the crown himself) stem from his lack of a dragon - that he had been so tantalizingly close to the draconic glory of his ancestors without ever grasping that glory himself, that he could have remade the realm with peace and justice if only he had had a dragon (as his descendant Aegon V would later bemoan), that he needed to take as much executive power as he could because only he could restore the dragons and bring the dynasty back to its Jaehaerys I golden age? Again, none of this is to say GRRM will in fact bring up these points, but Viserys’ lack of a dragon allows for exploration to any of these points.
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one thing that always strikes is the contrast between carm and syd is the why behind their culinary careers
for carm it’s always been about family and just learning the craft like his award was literally shoved in a noma book and why he is so indifferent about stars and how that’s just not his focus for the bear but it is for syd like she does want the dreamy fame side of that world
(like even in nyc it was proving he’s good enough and why he doesn’t care that terribly about being teased like yeah it’s different and a bit extra but plus he prob blames the whole thing in nyc for not noticing what was wrong with mikey) 🧂
My dude I’ve just been rereading this in my inbox and like. This is such a good and correct read on carmy, especially in contrast with Syd!
He probably was like her once, dreams of fame and Michelin stars. But once he actually entered the industry, I think he realized how brutal it all actually was.
And it’s a trauma thing, too. To not celebrate or fully be happy about your accomplishments. He talks about this with Syd, too… any sense of joy just bypasses into this feeling of dread. Because he knew he just had to retain the stars.
Because trauma! It stops you from seeing the joy and you hyperfixate on all the awful things first. It’s a control thing, too, which carmy has. He has control issues, exacerbated from working in a kitchen. He needs to problem solve problems that don’t even exist yet.
It’s also a fear of joy thing, too… if he lets himself feel any joy about anything (including his accomplishments) something awful will happen. Trauma!
#my asks#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#the bear#🧂anon#I have a LOT to say about Carmen and how I think he has cptsd. he has all of it. all the symptoms.#also he hates thinking abt the past which adds on to all this#bear talk
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The accusations against Lizzo are so weird. The entire thing is so bizarre, but I keep reading about other people who worked with her who basically confirm what the dancers are saying about the work environment.
See, I always have this fear, if I should call it like that. That no matter how nice someone appears to be, particularly a celebrity, you never know what's underneath that image. I'm not a fan so I don't feel some personal distress, but I know I would feel so shitty if this happened about someone who I'm interested in. It's that damn parasocial relationship, as cliche as this term has become.
It's worse when it's about people you don't expect. Like, who is shocked Ellen and Corden are shitty celebs? I guess no one. But Lizzo to do all that? Is it about getting famous/rich? Being a not so nice person and fame exacerbates that? I don't know.
Should we always expect the possibility of similar revelations in regards to all artists we like? Of course, there are various degrees to such issues, like a person being accused of doing something illegal and then there's also the option of hearing they are assholes, which is not illegal. Just shitty, but that already involves our moral compass and what we are like as people too.
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I think I get what you mean with the fandom’s concerns, sometimes they are overwhelming and that’s why I sometimes try not to be too online, but I guess that’s what makes me miss a lot of what happens. Also, I think, people that make wrong interpretations just make a lot of noise (just look at the Selena-dorothea discourse) and just fuel these concerns even more
you're so right. also, a lot of people are very literal! they think one of the lyrics in dorothea is about selling makeup in magazines, and selena has a makeup line, and she is taylor's friend, so it MUST be about her. i personally think, especially post-midnights, that taylor was musing more on the concept of fame, giving up domesticity/simplicity, etc. but that takes more critical thinking because you have to take context into account (not of taylor's life, necessarily, but you have to understand the overall phenomenon of how people lose touch with their hometown when they grow up, how fame exacerbates the loss of identity, how la/hollywood is full of fake people and clout-chasers, how every human makes choices that they might regret, that some choices will both hurt AND help you, etc.)
some people don't engage with art or the world in that way! or they're too young imo.
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Ok so I decided to scrap the other story I had for this one. I’ll get to it just this one kept calling my name, besides I need to do a bit more research before I post that one. Thank you to @deans-baby-momma for beating this chapter.
Please keep in mind that this is only fanfiction, not real life. So in this story Jensen is single. No disrespect to Danneel, I love her just the same. Please don’t copy my work and use as yours it’s literally taken me four years to get back to writing,
Summary.
"Behind the Lens" is a love story set in the summer of 2023, focusing on Jensen Ackles, a renowned actor facing the burden of stardom. Jensen's relentless dedication to his career has left him overwhelmed and disconnected from his true self. He's caught between his desire for a break and the pressure to maintain his public image. Through conversations with his manager, Darren, Jensen grapples with the need to find balance between his demanding career and personal well-being. This story explores the challenges of fame and the quest to rediscover one's passion in the entertainment industry. When he crosses path with a photographer Saamiya Siddiqiewill she be able to help him be the man he used to be?
Jensen Ackles x ofc Saamiya Siddiqie
Chapter one.
“Behind the Lens”
A Jensen Ackles and Saamiya Siddique Love Story
Written by Samantha Williams
Summer of 2023
Chapter One: Burden of Stardom
Jensen Ackles, renowned for his dedication and passion as an actor, saw his career soar to new heights over the years. However, the weight of his stardom took its toll as time went on. The constant demands of the entertainment industry, coupled with his perfectionist tendencies, led him down a path of exhaustion and inner turmoil.
At the beginning of his career, Jensen eagerly embraced every opportunity that came his way. He tackled premieres, interviews, and promotional events with enthusiasm, believing each appearance propelled him closer to his dreams. His determination to showcase his talent and worth to the world was unwavering. Yet, with escalating demands and skyrocketing fame, Jensen found himself consistently juggling numerous commitments. Endless film shoots, press tours, talk show appearances, charity events, and Supernatural convention weekends formed an unending list. It seemed as though he lived a life meticulously governed by a tightly controlled schedule, leaving only a few precious moments for himself before the next obligation arose. This rigid structure left him with scant time for genuine rest and relaxation.
As time passed, the unrelenting pressure to perform and maintain the charismatic and charming image the public adored eroded Jensen's sense of self. He felt as if he was in a perpetual role, even when off-screen, and genuine moments of respite and authenticity became increasingly rare. The more he pushed himself, the more his true identity seemed to slip through his fingers. Reluctance to attend events and interviews stemmed from a deep-rooted fear of losing himself entirely. He had heard stories of actors who had burned out, sacrificing their personal lives and well-being for the allure of fame. Becoming one of those cautionary tales was a fate he vehemently opposed. Despite this, he yearned for reality, for a connection to his craft that went beyond the glamour of the red carpet.
His desire for a break, a chance to catch his breath and reignite his passion, stemmed from his need to regain control over his life. The exhaustion he felt wasn't solely physical—it permeated his emotional and mental well-being. He longed for a space where he could delve into new roles without the suffocating weight of expectations. A space to rejuvenate his creativity and rediscover the joy that acting had once brought him.
Jensen's internal struggle was further exacerbated by his perfectionism. He held himself to incredibly high standards, consistently striving for excellence in his performances. This self-imposed pressure made it difficult for him to strike a balance between his career and self-care, ultimately leading to periods of burnout and frustration.
Currently, Jensen lounged on the plush couch in his comfortable Austin residence. His fingers tapped idly against the armrest as he gazed out the window. Beyond the glass, the muffled hum of the city provided a stark contrast to the tranquility he desperately sought. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, emitting a sigh as he glanced at the blinking notification light on his phone. He knew what lay in wait—a stern message from his manager, Darren Wright.
With a resigned expression, Jensen unlocked his phone and opened the message. The text stared back at him, sharp and unyielding:
“Jensen, we need to talk. Your recent absences from events and interviews are causing a stir. This is not the time to vanish, give me a call asap.” he had underlined asap and even bold-capped the words, that Jensen felt it was yelling.
Jensen bit his lip, the words hanging heavily in the air. He couldn't evade this conversation any longer. With a sigh, he dialed Darren's number, his thumb hovering over the call button. Each ring of the phone felt like a countdown to the impending confrontation.
"Jensen, finally decided to answer, huh?" Darren's voice crackled through the line, a blend of irritation and concern.
"Hey, Darren," Jensen greeted, aiming for casual despite the unease churning in his stomach.
"Skip the small talk, Jensen," Darren shot back. "We have a problem. Your recent absence from interviews, events, and that charity appearance last week—is causing a stir. Do you grasp the implications?"
Jensen reclined further, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I understand, Darren. I've been... overwhelmed."
"Overwhelmed?" Darren's voice sharpened. "Jensen, you're a top-tier actor. People count on you, and your disappearing act damages your image and our contracts."
"I get it, Darren. But you need to comprehend," Jensen's frustration bled into his words, "the ceaseless demands, the unending travel—it's draining. I need a breather."
"In this industry, you're not the sole one grappling with pressure, Jensen," Darren remarked. "But they don't vanish like you do. You hold responsibilities, commitments."
"I'm not seeking sympathy, Darren," Jensen's tone deepened. "I just need some time to recharge. To recollect why I embarked on this acting journey."
A tense silence settled over the line, the unspoken tension between artist and manager palpable. "Jensen," Darren's tone softened marginally, "I recognize the challenges. But you can't permit exhaustion to dictate your choices. We can adjust your schedule, and give you some leeway. But you must show up."
Jensen shut his eyes, weariness evident in the way he sank into the couch. "I don't want to lose sight of who I am, Darren. I refuse to metamorphose into a mere performance machine."
"Jensen, I understand. Truly," Darren's voice carried a hint of empathy. "We'll find a solution, alright? Yet, you must communicate. Vanishing in this manner won't solve anything."
Jensen nodded, even though Darren couldn't witness the gesture. "Yeah, you're right. I should have spoken to you before things escalated."
"Good. We'll address this," Darren's tone mellowed. "And remember, your public image is vital. People admire you."
As the conversation concluded, Jensen experienced a mixture of relief and residual tension. He acknowledged that Darren's perspective was valid; he couldn't permit exhaustion and frustration to steer his decisions. He needed to locate an equilibrium between his demanding career and personal well-being.
After ending the call, Jensen reclined further, his gaze fixated on the outside world passing by. Amidst the vortex of fame, he recognized he had misplaced his true self. He yearned for a reminder of the passion that had ignited his journey.
A couple of days later, Jensen's phone buzzed, displaying Darren's name on the screen. Sighing, he answered the call, his apprehension evident in his voice. "Hey, Darren."
"Jensen, good to catch you," Darren's tone was businesslike yet tinged with a hint of friendliness. "Listen, we've got an important photo shoot scheduled in New York."
Jensen's eyebrows furrowed. "Another one? Can't we reschedule it?"
Darren's sigh crackled through the phone. "Jensen, you know how crucial this is for your image. We've already rearranged the dates twice to accommodate your previous requests. It's time to show up."
Jensen's fingers tightened around the phone. "I understand, but I've been feeling really drained lately. I could use some time off."
"Jensen, I get that you're tired," Darren's voice softened, "but this is a big opportunity. It's for a prominent magazine cover, and the theme aligns perfectly with your upcoming project. It's a chance to showcase a different side of you."
Jensen leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he considered the proposition. "I know, but I just feel like I'm running on fumes here. I need a break."
Darren's patience seemed to wane slightly. "Jensen, we've discussed this. You're not the only one dealing with exhaustion. Everyone in this industry faces pressure. What sets you apart is how you handle it."
Jensen rubbed his temples, torn between his desire for a respite and the awareness of his professional responsibilities. "I'm worried about burning out, Darren. I don't want to reach a point where I can't even enjoy what I do."
“I hear you, we went over this ready the other day remember? I am truly working on it for you, just do this, then we will talk more.," Darren's voice carried understanding. "But think about why you started acting in the first place. Remember the passion, the thrill? This photo shoot could be a reminder of that."
Jensen let out a sigh, his resistance slowly giving way. "Fine, I'll do it. But can we keep it as concise as possible? I need some time to recharge afterward."
Darren's tone lightened. "Absolutely, We'll ensure the shoot is efficient, and then you can have a breather. Just remember, you're not alone in this. We're here to support you."
Jensen nodded, even though Darren couldn't see him. "Thanks, Darren. I appreciate your understanding."
"Get some rest before the trip, Jay.," Darren advised. "And remember, this shoot could be a turning point. Take it one step at a time."
As the call ended, Jensen leaned back, conflicted emotions swirling within him. He knew that relenting to the demands of his career was necessary, but he also realized that he needed to find a way to preserve his own well-being amidst the storm of fame. With a deep breath, he picked up his script and glanced at it, a reminder of the artistic passion that had driven him. He was determined to strike that balance—no matter how challenging it might be.
If you want to be tagged please let me know
@deans-baby-momma
#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles#reader insert#jensen ackles fanfiction#jared padalecki#supernatural rpf#dean winchester#reader fanfiction#photography#photography and reader#love story
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just finished i'm glad my mom died and thinking about how riddled society is with awful, awful people and how refusing to be abused is the exception, not the norm. the mom gets the most page time in mccurdy's memoir but let's not forget the nickelodeon execs, the older men who preyed on a young and vulnerable woman, shitty fans, tabloids, her absent father(s), and even the people who sold her a crumbling house she could never stop fixing. i'm so proud of her for getting the help she needed. i'm proud of anyone who is maintaining their core self in a society that wants to destroy it
i also don't see many people talking about how poverty exacerbates mental illness and generational trauma. if any of mccurdy's family could have made ends meet, maybe they could have had time to take care of themselves and have real relationships woth each other. mccurdy's mother's obsession with fame and money was partially a survival mechanism. hoarding can be a reaction to poverty. we have so many things to fix.
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Day 1 - Envoy
From within a room within Kugane’s famed Bokairo Inn, a blonde Raen flicks through a pile of missives and newsletters with a weary frustration in her eyes. In particular, her eyes keep going over one particular article - one of a supposed messenger from the depths of the Ruby Sea itself. From the once fabled Sui-no-Sato.
The messenger’s scheduled arrival, as well as their identity, appear to have been verified; however it was not the legitimacy of the claim which had Izayoi pouring over it again and again, even at this late hour, and by nothing more than candlelight. Rather, her eyes kept reaching to the name of the envoy in question. Takahashi Mitsuki-Sama.
Across the room, from under the covers of the room’s bed, a brunette stirs. Long, leporine ears twitch as she sits up from bed, and faint candlelight highlights her pale complexion.
“…Sweetheart..?” She asks, drowsily squinting in the dark.
“It’s just... We came all this way, and now I’m faced with this. I don’t know if I can face her after all these years.”
“If it helps, my dear, I’m not exactly a stranger to fucked up family ties.”
“I-“. Izayoi begins to reply, voice raised in a moment of panic. She pauses for a moment, taking in the weight of Mielikki’s words.
“No, you’re right. I’m just… scared. Scared of how my mother will react to me, if she thought I died. If she mourned because I left and didn’t look back. If she’d even believe that I am myself.”
Izayoi’s eyes well with tears of regret. A rare sight for her; no less from regret of what ultimately was her most pivotal decision in memory.
Mielikki stands up out of bed and slowly walks over to her partner. She kneels down to the smaller woman’s level, exacerbated by the Raen seated as she was. Though Izayoi’s gaze was aimed low to the floor, she could feel Mielikki’s coarse hands reaching for her cheeks, and gently brushing away the tears from the corners of her eyes.
“It’s okay. I’ve been there. And you know what? You were there with me. My own mother used me as a scapegoat, for Thaliak’s sake! But we made amends, and things got better. Don’t you think I’ll be there with you to tackle yours? Now get some rest.”
Izayoi, still weeping, leans forward to rest her forehead against Mielikki. With a whimper, she replies.
“…Thank you.”
Mielikki pulls Izayoi’s face to her chest into a warm hug, running her fingers gently through her hair, and though caught off guard, Izayoi relaxes into her partner’s embrace.
Izayoi takes a deep breath. Though her eyes were still red with tears and trepidation, they were joined by renewed resolve. Come what may, they would see this meeting through, together.
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i'm not letting you sleep on the floor + boom! comics mmpr; Bulk (I am not choosy about which version)
Nothing's What It Appears
The proof is in the pudding, as they say, and when push came to shove, when all the chips were down, Bulk discovered his true greatness. Though others often treated him as ‘stupid’ and ‘lazy’ and ‘obnoxious’, he was anything but those degrading adjectives. In retrospect, his atrocious behavior and commentary did nothing to persuade otherwise.
He could see that now, when such matters were the last thing on anyone’s mind.
Bulk always aspired to greatness or fame or heroism as if they were his birthrights. He wanted to be noticed, to stand out, to be special. Which he’d succeeded in doing, just not the way he envisioned in his fantasies. The bully often stared out the windows in the wide blue yonder, his brain galivanting off on magical quests where he, and he alone, was able to slay the monsters, rescue the fair damsel, and return to a parade of accolades and admiration.
His grades certainly suffered for it, though in actuality, Bulk was quite intelligent. He loved history even if he couldn’t say such a statement out loud. His friends would tease him mercilessly for being ‘nerdy’. Oddly enough, not one would dare make a pithy comment regarding the teen’s larger frame as they might a less terrifying individual.
That was one thing that Farkas was secretly ashamed of, his weight having been a touchy subject most of his life. As a child, he’d always carried a little more ‘cushioning’ as his mom called it and there was not a thing wrong with a squishy, pinchable little boy. His grandmother, when she came to visit on holidays, typically Thanksgiving and Christmas, when one was SUPPOSED to enjoy the abundance of delicious food, would look at her grandson and just shake her head.
“Mae, that child needs to go on a diet! He’s almost as big as a house!” she’d scold, while Bulk sat awkwardly at the table, dinner plate waiting before him. “How’s he ever supposed to…”
The pair would argue loudly, garnering the attention of everyone else present and the embarrassed Farkas would feel their eyes looking at him with disgust before surveying the contents and the amounts on his plate with judgement.
Even if he was absolutely starving, Bulk’s appetite would fly the coop and he’d quietly excuse himself from the table only to disappear to his room to sob in secret.
To his mother, food was love and sure, he loved to eat the food she prepared.
“Just for you, sweetie!” she’d coo.
The growing weight only exacerbated his insecurities, the type that most everyone suffered from in childhood. Even then, Bulk would spend hours pouring over his collection of comics, along with Skull, who couldn’t afford such frivolities. Spiderman, Batman, the Flash, Iron Man, the Hulk… all sporting ripped abs and mountainous biceps.
‘Whoever heard of a fat superhero,’ Farkas glumly realized. ‘There’s no super cool suit to wear unless you’re built like a Greek statue…’
Skull would gamely pat his hand, at such times leaving his cheeky observations and wit on the back burner. He truly meant what he told Bulk and he meant it with reverence as someone of his particular build could be snapped like a twig.
“Don’t worry, Bulky! If any bad guys tried to take over, you’d could just sit on them! Smash ‘em into the dirt!”
That wasn’t the fighting style of his daydreams… and was certainly never depicted in the comics. Or movies.
Just cartoons and just for making fun of a character.
It was bullshit…
He was tired of being referred to as ‘fat ass’, husky, stout, ‘pig’ and a variety of other wounding descriptors.
Perhaps he just wasn’t cut out to be a hero. Maybe he didn’t deserve to stand out or be special…
When Tommy transferred to Angel Grove High, Bulk had attempted to assert his authority and put the surly teen in his place from the jump. Of course, that went over like a brick wall with the new student unleashing a torrent of curses and insults, may of which the bully had never even heard before.
“If you get in my face again, you fat tub of shit, I swear to all fuck that I will butcher you like they do pigs at market,” Oliver whispered, voice eerily growing calm and his eyes pooling creepy flood of black where Bulk had been sure they’d been hazel.
And this was all way before he’d gotten any possessed coin.
The fucking dick only continue to grow worse, a hateful, spiteful, unfeeling demon masquerading as human. Eventually, he’d sunk his fangs gums deep in Jason and his little cluster of dorks. Bulk thought the group of friends to be annoying and enjoyed pestering them, but this shit was off the charts.
Skull was sure that Tommy was a serial killer or would eventually become one, explaining to Bulk and their assorted crew that the other teen was seriously messed up in the head.
“Oliver’s the type to keep his victims locked in his basement until he tires of them,” Eugene whispered, glancing over as said teen stood at his locker, back to them. “And keep body parts as souvenirs. Stay the fuck away from him!”
The Skullovitch’s lived in the same neighborhood as the Oliver’s and the lanky teen shared with his best all the wild, crazy shit that went on over at their house: the abusive, loud alcoholic father, screeching, slutty looking mother, and Tommy giving as good as he got at times and at others blankly giving in to his punishments.
Every goddamn day it was something with that prick though…
Usually, Tommy would be swinging fists and brawling with Jason up and down the hall or he’d decide it was Zack’s turn to be his punching bag. Bulk was sure he was behind the rumor that Kimberly had been seen sucking Jason’s dick in the locker room at the Youth Center, landing both teens in the counselor’s office. He’d heard from Sharkie that Tommy had even tried to plant drugs in their lockers, but fortunately hadn’t been successful.
Even Matthew Cook tried to step in and intervene between this dervish and the other teens and ended up with a black eye, split lip, and a detention to show for it.
Bulk wished he were brave enough to throw Oliver into a locker, toss him in a trash can where he belonged. That was his new fantasy, throwing himself between that asshole and Jase and his pals. He’d bloody Tommy’s face and force him to apologize for his bullshit in front of everyone!
Oh, how he wished!
Then the day came that Skull, scrawny, boney-butt Skull, went one on one with the Green Ranger, saving the Blue Ranger from certain death by shoving the evil monster from the second floor of the mall. It had all been caught on tape and was played on the news for weeks.
Bulk crowed from the rooftops how proud he was of his best friend, and he truly was. He just wished he’d been there, been brave enough to do such a dumbass thing. Skull didn’t seem to like the attention all that much and shied away from the spotlight, something Farkas couldn’t understand.
But little did he know he’d get his chance to be a hero. He’d get more than one as would Eugene…
The time came when he and Skull saved Jason from Tommy’s punk-ass sneak attack at the Youth Center. Sure, they hadn’t went toe to toe with the nutty fuck, but he hadn’t gotten to Jase and that’s what mattered. The dark-haired teen wouldn’t discuss why he and Oliver were at odds and seemed shaken up that he’d been lying in wait for him.
However, it seemed that for no apparent reason Tommy eventually turned his wrath on Skull. And that was just not going down on Bulk’s watch.
Eugene had seemed more distant than usual, though he denied anything was amiss. Farkas had no way of knowing that the smaller boy had discovered the Rangers’ identities and had started a budding relationship with Billy, the Blue Ranger. Of course, Skull wanted to spend more and more time with his boyfriend, the pair meeting in secret and enjoying something that was just theirs.
That all changed when he discovered the bruise to Skull’s shoulder, left when Tommy paid him a visit, viciously shoving the smaller teen down in his own bedroom.
“Where the hell you’d get that battle wound, Ranger Rescuer,” Bulk teased, pointing to the dusky purple marring the pale skin.
“Ehhh… I dunno. Don’t remember.”
He was obviously lying, his grey eyes looking everywhere but his friend’s face. They were sitting in the lunchroom at school, the loud laughing and razzing of other students had nearly drowned out Skull’s lackluster response.
“Bullshit, buddy! Who hurt you? Cause I’m gonna beat the brakes off ‘em!”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Bulky. I’m fine! Can we just drop it?” Eugene whimpered.
But Bulk caught Skull glancing in Oliver’s direction, the venomous asshole seated at a table on the far side of the room, alone of course.
“It was him, wasn’t it! He hurt you! What the fuck is his problem?”
Pushing back from the table, he was on fire now. Skull scrambled to grab Bulk’s leather jacket, trying to pull him back down, pleading for him not to go over there, it wasn’t fucking worth it!
“Nah, this shit has gone on long enough! He’s never putting hands on you again, Skull!”
But before he could make his way over to where Tommy sat, the long-haired teen, with no apparent reason or trigger, shoved away from his lunch, darted across the lunchroom, and began pummeling Jason, grabbing him from behind by his hair and yanking him backward off his stool. Jase hit the floor hard and his head bounced off the tile, leaving a bright red streak to Bulk’s horror.
Laying there, Jason could only attempt defensive techniques as Zack, Billy, Trini, and Kimberly ran around to jump on Tommy’s back.
Then here came Bulk, like a charging bull, steaming issuing from his nostrils as he too grabbed a handful of hair, twisting Tommy’s head and neck painfully and pulling hard. Long strands came away with a sickening ripping sound and the green clad teen shrieked in fury, hands going to his scalp and abandoning Jason’s blood-covered face.
The whole lunchroom erupted, some students screaming in fear, others cheering and whooping at Oliver finally getting a come-uppance. It took several teachers and Mr. Kaplan to put an end to the wild free-for-all and it didn’t escape their notice that ALL the blows were directed at Tommy. Of course, fighting was an automatic detention for everyone involved no matter their role.
Jason ended up going to the nurse’s office and from there his worried and angry parents picked him up and took him to the emergency room to get checked out. Tommy’s parents never even answered their phone, not for the school nor the Scotts, who were discussing pressing charges and getting protective orders.
Not that they had enough time for everything to progress at all.
A short time later, Jason destroyed the Sword of Darkness, Tommy made his vile decision, and monsters roamed the earth in numbers the Rangers were unable to manage. The city nearly emptied, as citizens fled in terror. But things got much, much worse….
Just when they thought they were turning a corner, close to gaining the upper hand, they were brutally disappointed, shocked into near catatonic states at the sight of a bloody, shattered red Tyranno helmet and the hateful asshole bedecked in new colors.
Bulk had been there that day, trying his best to gather everyone he could find, to get them somewhere safe. Skull was at his shoulder, his nimble frame crawling into crumbling buildings and nearly smashed flat vehicles, searching for survivors. Trying to find a place to go, they’d ended up with ringside seats to Ascension Day (Ass-cention Day as Skull dubbed it later). Clearly, they’d taken a wrong turn.
“Rangers!” a voice boomed. “Take a look at what’s become of your precious leader!”
Holding the helmet before them, the others stared in disbelief, unable to defend themselves from a barrage of blows and strikes.
“Geez o’fuck, Bulky! Whoever that is killed the Red Ranger! We’re screwed!”
Bulk didn’t answer, watching this newest Ranger twirl as if on a runway in Milan. That voice was familiar.
“I know that voice, Skull!”
Now the floodgates opened. It didn’t matter anymore…
“It’s fucking Oliver, Bulk! That fucking dick motherfucker was the Green Ranger and now he’s… I don’t even fucking know! But Jason’s dead!” he screamed in anguish.
Neither teen nor anyone else noticed the group of putties carrying a severely injured, unconscious Jason Scott into a large transportation pod. It would be decades before the truth was revealed.
Once the dust had settled and he’d assured himself that all the people in his charge had been properly assessed and fed, did Bulk consider thinking about caring for his own needs. His grimy, tattered shirt clung to the sweat-sticky skin of his back, making him itch, and his was streaked with dark, sooty smudges. Mentally and physically he was drained.
Leaning against the wall in a darkened corridor, illuminated only by a small flashlight, Bulk finally allowed himself to cry. The tears tracked in smeary trickles down his full cheeks and hung suspended from lips and chin.
‘This can’t be happening. It can’t be real!’
The remaining Rangers were nestled in his care, carefully tucked into cots in a large conference room of the abandoned facility. They rarely spoke or even responded, so shocked and traumatized by the unexpected turn of events that they merely behaved like dolls or small frightened toddlers.
Besides Kimberly, who spit fire and venom, all the while still sobbing, threats and curses and promises of vengeance filling the air until she’d finally fallen into an exhausted slumber.
How could he have known the Power Rangers were so close? It all made sense now. Oliver’s vicious and unpredictable temperament, the other teens’ frequent disappearances, and unexplained injuries of the past. No wonder Tommy had been obsessing over Jason; the Green Ranger was out to murder the Red…
During the dangerous trek to safety, Skull confessed every damn thing and pleaded forgiveness. To which Bulk replied that was silly, of course he wasn’t angry or going to hold it against him. None of that meant jack-shit now. And his relationship with Billy wasn’t all that surprising, considering all the clues he’d glossed over in ignorance.
Now, Jason was dead, the Rangers near catatonic and almost without all the power coins, and that fucking dick bitch was hunting them down. How the fuck were they going to avoid him forever? There was no way!
“But he’s not getting the others, not no way, not no how! Or Eugene… He’ll have to go through me!” he hissed through his muffled cries.
‘Like that will be hard for him, doofus! He has two fucking coins and he took Jason out! How are you even the slightest threat to this ‘Lord Drakkon’?’
But he was determined to try.
Footsteps echoing down the hall caught his attention and he quickly ran his hands over his reddened, tear covered face, not caring that the darkness would hide most of the evidence.
“You alright, Bulky?”
Skull gingerly moved toward him, his flashlight bobbing as he walked.
“Why are you hiding out down here?”
Farkas sighed and sucked back a deluge of snot. His friend waited patiently, knowing the other teen needed time to process his scattered thoughts.
“Well, Skull, compared to everyone else, I’m fine. I got lucky, just a few minor cuts and bumps,” he grunted, pulling himself off the wall. “I just needed a minute to think. Like its going to make a damn bit of difference.”
“It might.”
“How? How is it going to change anything that’s happened?” Bulk suddenly yelled, unable to stifle his emotions any longer.
Skull spread his arms, the beam from the flashlight wildly arcing along the paint chipped walls.
“I’ll tell you how, buddy! It might make a difference for them,” he argued, pointing back along the hall towards where the survivors hunkered down. “So far, no one else has had grand ideas or has been capable of making a decision about one goddamn thing! Only you!”
The blonde hung his head as he listened to Eugene’s rant.
“Even the Rangers can’t do any of that right now! YOU gathered all of us, YOU got us around Fuckwad’s goons, YOU decided where we needed to get to and got us here, YOU even triaged and treated injuries, YOU cooked a massive meal, YOU, YOU, YOU!”
Wanting to shake the larger teen in annoyance, Skull hissed through clenched teeth.
“You are so BRAVE!”
At that, Bulk’s cheeks colored for a different reason.
“You really think I’m brave, Skully?” he whispered. “I’m no superhero, I don’t have special powers. I’m just a fat, loud-mouthed, smart-ass punk…”
“All that shit doesn’t matter to a hill of beans! Powers and secret identities and superheroes! Look what happened to our friends, the Rangers!” His voice dropped lest it carry back to the demoralized teens.
“Drakkon TOOK their special powers, he KILLED Jason, the goddamn Red fucking Power Ranger! He’s evil and crazy and he’s not going to stop until he gets all the other Rangers too! We’ve gotta be crazier and smarter than him, Bulk! Or we are all FUCKED!” Skull yelled, gripping Bulk’s shoulders now.
“We NEED someone like you, we’re counting on you!” he continued. “So, let’s go lick our wounds in private, then you and I will work together to get everyone as far from that psycho as possible.”
Stepping back, he noted the slumped shoulders and weary features just visible under the flashlight’s glow.
“But first, you have to get some rest, Bulk, or you’re gonna fall right over,” he decided. “Come on, this way.”
Taking his friend’s elbow, Eugene led the way to another room off the corridor. There was a bed with a small side table, a chest of drawers, and a hospital-style curtain divider.
“This is the last bed open and you’re taking it, pal.”
Bulk blinked, his green eyes scratchy with exhaustion and strain.
“What about you, Skull? I’m not letting you sleep on the floor!”
“Who said I was going to sleep?” Eugene asked, though it wasn’t a question. “Someone’s going to need to keep watch. I’ll grab my 40 winks later. Now get your ass in that bed and don’t sass me.”
“Alright, mom..” Bulk deadpanned, too tired to argue further.
Skull was right. About a lot of things really. And that wasn’t something he could normally claim as fact. Clearly the ramifications of Lord Drakkon’s birth and possession of not one, but two coins tied to this mysterious ‘Grid’ Skull described from he remembered of Billy’s explanation, were going to be vast and far reaching. He couldn’t verbalize it accurately, but Bulk could feel the very atmosphere, the ground beneath his feet, the air circulating the blue and green ball of mud, were twisting and writhing as if in death throes, gasping and grunting as all faded to nothingness.
#lord drakkon#boom! comics power rangers#power rangers#ao3 author#world of the coinless jason#ao3 fanfic#world of the coinless farkas bulkmeier#world of the coinless eugene skullovitch#friendship#don't judge a book by its cover#someone has to take charge here#bravery comes in many forms#growth#empowerment#coming into his own
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☀ + Hercule (for videl)
Sunny Headcanons || Open!
[Videl is absolutely the definition of a daddy's girl, but even she is not thrilled by his showboating and antics. Having come to suspect that perhaps her father did not defeat Cell as the world thought even before meeting Gohan only exacerbated this annoyance with how he acts in public, for cameras, in interviews, etc. And it definitely doesn't help that she knows how different he is in private and before he gained his fame from first winning the 24th World Martial Arts Tournament (though she questions the validity of that win down the road when she figures out who Nabooru is and her relationship to Gohan and the others she saw at the Cell games) and swiping the credit for defeating Cell. While it's nothing she would ever truly begrudge and despise her father for, there are moments where she wishes Gohan would have taken the credit that was rightfully his.]
#.:ask:.#*.* headcanon 👊🌸#*.* videl 👊🌸#hopefromadoomedtimeline#me casually tossing in my crossover AU bs into this ahaaaa
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wahoho 82%. What was your character like as a baby? As a child?
any oc....or perhaps multiple.....
Teehee, ask and ye shall receive. 👀 [battery percentage oc asks]
Let's hit up the new kid on the block first! Leo, from group legacy shenanigans!
Leo's the family disappointment - not quite from birth, but he starts pretty young. The eldest son - and only second to a first-born elder sister, Leo was intended to be the next greatest patriarch to proudly carry on the family line, as you do when you're born into a respected, well-to-do Imperial family.
That... didn't take for Leo. I'd like to imagine he was a particularly loud baby, very keen to spew a bunch of baby gibberish very, very excitedly. So, it's a shame dad didn't stay too interested in all that as he got older.
Eventually, Leo has a younger sister (one lovely Liv, of fame to a friend who does not have a Tumblr) whom he winds up closest with and one further younger brother - who ends up being actually interested in taking over the whole family business deal. Of course, dear old dad had to be a stubborn prick about the whole ordeal, so this really only exacerbated things in the household.
So, Leo was... rebellious, to say the least. He could be sharp as a whip, when he wanted to be - ended up cleared for med school and trained as a medic for a few years of mandatory service in the Imperial Army. But since that wasn't exactly what the family wanted out of him, he could also be hellaciously stubborn. On purpose. Leo's the kind of child that hid whoopie cushions in his father's chair before really important family meetings out of spite and childish delight.
He also definitely probably most likely snuck out. Repeatedly. I'm sure he was even caught several times. He only got more argumentative with the old man as he got older.
What likely started as harmless pranks did turn into active plots, for sure. And dear Liv often got wrangled into his shenanigans, too. While their younger brother wasn't exactly deaf to Leo's discontent, he was a bit too much of a kiss-up to Father for the brothers to ever really see completely eye-to-eye. Liv didn't have that judgement though. He'd found what worked for him.
Long story short, his eventual backtalk to superiors after he watched shitty orders get nearly his whole team killed and the whole... defection to the Republic to become a part-time stim experimenter and full-time smuggler on a shitty, stolen XS Freighter did not do wonders for his relationships at home. Liv remains the only sibling he has any contact with whatsoever. Her stint in Intelligence lets her keep tabs on him so he doesn't get himself killed - or just lets her "stalk" him, as Leo likes to jest.
Rhyst would have likely been a master of playing 20 questions, the inherently inquisitive one that was almost always ready to ask Why? (If you listen closely, you can hear the sigh ready to burst out of his Master that taught him the art of the Jedi Shadows; it was a keen excercise on patience for both parties). He also found he liked problem solving hands-on relatively young. Give this kid a Rubix Cube. Something of a natural leader that would have loved to initiate a game of tag or other such little adventures among his fellow younglings and padawans in the order - though such "innate talent" will eventually wear on him as a Knight. He liked to do. Give him some droid units to patch back up into working order or set him loose outdoors for a few hours and just let him go. Very high-energy. Adventurous. Occasionally biting off more than he could chew and needing a small save from a Master, lol.
Tyr spent a lot of his childhood trying to stay out of the way at home - and sometimes that meant literally away. Semi-regularly, Tyr would slip the not particularly overly mindful eyes of caretakers to roam the Kaas City streets, sometimes running with a small band of other military family children similar or a bit older in age to roam the markets and see what they could hear from the soldiers on-leave in the city.
When he was at home, he spent a lot more time around the family servants than would have been deemed admirable - particularly because Tyr wasn't above slipping into helping them around the estate. He wasn't particularly keen on the piano lessons his mother "permitted" for him, but he knew enough about her expectations and wrath to be dutiful and complacent in the studies. It was a mistake to ask too many questions or voice too much of an opinion - and it was one he only needed to make a few times before he knew better. Otherwise, the family did have a fair library, so reading was generally an option. It's unfortunately not a habit that sticks too consistently with him in adulthood.
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I agreed with a lot of what you said with regards to the topics of kids and marriage and I think the flip flopping is the point. T doesn’t know what she wants and is trying to figure it out.
I don’t know if you’ve heard but not all of the live pods are being recorded because they want it to be a special experience each night for the fans who have paid. The Minneapolis pod definitely wasn’t recorded and it’s unconfirmed if the Montreal one was or not.
It was in Montreal where she mentioned wanting a daughter after being asked if she’d prefer a gay son or thot daughter. She said daughter to follow in her footsteps and said something about how she’s been thinking about having kids. K responded that if T had a kid they wouldn’t be friends anymore lol. I don’t think she’s kidding. Mixed reports on how much she actually went into the subject but this is all stuff she’s said before. She changes her mind on the topic of children almost daily it feels like.
Then it was in Minneapolis where she referred to to her man as husband and apparently people freaked out and she corrected “Sorry not husband. Gay husband. He just lives in my house” so there’s that. T also alluded to “knowing what it was like to have a husband” in her sims ad filmed during stagecoach. I think she tries on different labels. About a year or two ago I noticed she started saying “partner” when in more professional settings and while talking about projects but then will still use “boyfriend” quite regularly when things are more off the cuff and relaxed. Most recently in the better help pod ads as well as the last iltw she was still saying “boyfriend”. This is all to say sometimes people try on different labels to see how they feel.
I feel like there is a lot of pressure, especially in your 30’s, to “figure things out” and T herself will talk about how fame and fortune don’t necessarily bring happiness. I think we can revert to societal pressures and stereotypes in an attempt to see if marriage and children really will bring happiness. The thing is, if you don’t solve the problems you have with yourself and your relationship, then marriage and children certainly won’t help anything and will only exacerbate those issues. I just hope T can one day take the time to figure out what will really make her happy.
This is also from August 😭
Thank you for filling me in on the live pod stuff!
And yes for sure, I think as much as T talks about how different things are being gay & in a relationship, there’s still this pressure. Between age, the length of a relationship, siblings having kids, etc etc etc
I hope she figures it out too, whatever that looks like!
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i’ve been thinking about it a lot and part of why i was relatively disappointed with midnights is because i think taylor swift has taken a step back musically. making an album like midnights is in some ways a regressive choice. not only has she returned to pop, a genre which i (controversially) think doesn’t necessarily suit her voice and sound the best and also exacerbates her main musical weakness i.e. repetitive melodies, she’s also heavily returned to super diaristic song-writing.
taylor has often complained a lot about the media’s involvement in her life, and this is not me blaming her for that in any way, but i do think a lot of it sprung from how heavily all her music was based on her personal life and the ways in which she gradually encouraged that more and more often. reputation is more fun to listen to if you know the details of her personal life, that’s just true! lover is the first album in which she loosely starts experimenting with writing songs that have nothing to do with her life -- death by a thousand cuts, it’s nice to have a friend, potentially cruel summer.
folklore and evermore, to me, are by far her best work, and a real breakthrough and turning point within her musical career. taylor swift is first and foremost a talented lyricist, but with this album, she revealed herself to be a talented storyteller -- when she no longer felt burdened to only retelling her own narrative. so that’s how we get the points of view of a high school love triangle, a song about rebekah harkness, about a woman whose husband left her for another woman, about war, about addiction. she leans farther into this in evermore: we get a rejected proposal, a woman who murders her best friends killer, a song about divorce, about hooking up with your hometown ex when you’re home for the holidays. even the songs that are ostensibly about her have a level of universality to them; the specificity in songs like invisible string and marjorie, instead of serving to provide more insight to her personal life end up creating a rich picture that serves a greater, cohesive theme.
midnights, however, is her most self-referential album yet. in order to fully enjoy, you need to know all the details and intricacies of her life. the lyrics are less clever, the narratives less coherent. anti-hero, for example, is (imo) structurally a mess. where revenge songs like mad woman and no body no crime had substance to them, a song like vigilante shit rings hollow when you get over the spectacle of it. what does dressing for revenge even mean? i think her songs about revenge on reputation were far more substantial: i.e. don’t blame me, i did something bad, and this is why we can’t have nice things. lavender haze might be vaguely catchy, but is it really that interesting lyrically if you don’t know about taylor swift’s relationship with the media? you’re own your own kid feels like a grown up fifteen, and it’s one of the better songs on the album, but the references to the burden of fame (of which many are scattered throughout the album) prevent it from feeling as relatable as other track fives. previously, her use of metaphor in songs like peace and especially dancing with our hands tied managed to explore that burden while also being widely relatable and applicable to other situations.
now, midnights is by no means a terrible album. it’s one of her weakest, in my opinion, but there’s a lot to like about it. taylor swift is a talented songwriter and musician, and she’s never come out with anything that i think is objectively terrible. i do, however, think that it is lyrically weaker than many of her recent stuff, including lover. singles like renegade and carolina gave me a lot of hope for the direction of her future music. but i think by returning to diaristic, self-referential story-telling, not only has she taken a step back creatively, she’s also alienated new fans by rendering it almost inaccessible to anyone who doesn’t know the lore of her life. i say this after speaking to casual listeners/non-swifties who found themselves baffled as to what a lot of these songs are trying to say. in returning to her 1989 roots, i think she’s moved back into the realm of superstardom and less into the realm of artist.
#dana rants#taylor swift#midnights#i would really like to know if you guys have any thoughts on this!!#i am sure many people vehemently disagree with me#but i feel pretty strongly and would like to know what you guys think!!!!
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Fort Heaven Chapter 1
Title: Fort Heaven
Author: Jay Grayson
Word Count: 69K
Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+
Available on: Kobo and my website
Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story.
Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start.
The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job.
That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing.
It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.
Full Chapter 1 under the read more
Chapter 1
Blue light from the computer projected onto the face of Evon Sparks as he stared, blankly, at the digital clock waiting for the numbers to change. The second 2:23 turned to 2:24, he let out an exacerbated sigh. He’d been in his small, shared office space for three hours and still he was left with nothing—not even an inkling of an idea.
Genuine Tales was the name of a popular journaling company that came into fame because of its success on the internet with fad blogs and self indulging quizzes. Most writers in the company spent one or two weeks working on one piece and the more experienced writers worked on something new almost daily.
Evon had a deadline that he needed met. He needed at least an interesting topic to present by the end of the day and, depending on the topic, he’d get a week or more to complete it.
Under normal circumstances, he’d find this easy—even fun.
However, things had been stressful for Evon for some time now and it was clouding his creativity. He was sure his bosses were getting suspicious and possibly even thinking of firing him.
His eyes kept to the screen as another minute passed by. When he shifted focus, he could vaguely see his reflection and he could see the bags under his eyes. With a sigh, he looked to the side and shook his head a little forcefully in an effort to bring some sort of focus back.
For the past six months his older sister, Trinity, had been staying in his townhouse with him. He had nothing but love for his sister and while his stress was stemming from her, he still didn’t blame her or resent her. She needed him and he had faith in himself that he could juggle his work life and take care of her.
Trinity broke her foot quite some time ago and what seemed like an easy fix turned into a long stretch of doctor visits and ongoing lawsuits. Nothing was set in stone with the lawsuits though the legal aspect was out of Evon’s hands. It was too much for him to take on, his sister had told him.
With her jewelry store temporarily closed and medical bills piling up, Trinity had no choice but to move out of her apartment and stay with her brother.
Evon rubbed over his eyes before letting his body go limp, halfway sliding out of his chair. There he was again—thinking about personal issues instead of focusing on work.
The cycle had been relentless since he started to notice a decrease in his money. He was completely dependent on his stories being successful and—if he wasn’t writing anything good—he was losing money.
With a low grumble, Evon sunk further down making his jacket slip up and off of his back. His arms stayed up by the arm rests while most of his lower body was crumpling onto the floor.
He heard the sound of footsteps but made no effort to move. Anyone who worked with him would expect a scene like that.
“What in the hell are you doing?” The deep, almost raspy voice of his best friend and co-worker echoed through the small room.
Evon moved to look up and he met her eyes. Yasmine towered over him, casting a rather large shadow, and placed her hands on her hips. She’d always been taller than him but from that angle she seemed like a giant. She certainly had the power of one and wasn’t nearly as gentle as most hoped.
Luckily for Evon, Yasmine had a soft spot for him.
She reached her hands down and, slowly, he grabbed onto her. Despite holding on, he made absolutely no further effort to stand which led to him being pulled the rest of the way onto the floor and partially dragged.
“Oh, come on,” Yasmine scolded—or at least tried to. It was hard to take her seriously when she started to laugh.
“I don’t want to be an adult,” Evon said with a pout causing her to shake her head.
“Do I look like I want to?”
She raised a good point. Just a year older than him, Yasmine didn’t look much like a woman in her mid to late twenties. She didn’t look much like a teenager either though. Her height and build both showed her adulthood while her face and hair looked adolescent. There weren’t many workplace rules about appearance and she took full advantage of that and wore a new hair cut and color almost monthly.
This month she had shaved sides and a bright pink tuft of hair sweeping down just to meet her brow. She had a few piercings but rarely wore them all at once and that day was no different. Other than a nose ring and earrings, she was without any jewelry.
Evon envied her confidence in that area since he’d thought of doing something dramatic to his appearance since he was a teen but never had the courage to follow through with it. He didn’t even have a piercing despite constantly being told that they aren’t necessarily permanent. Then, the one time he went into a parlor for a tattoo he ended up running away before the artist could even convince him of a design.
It was the idea of something irreversible that bothered him although, according to Yasmine, it was because he was a crybaby and couldn’t handle pain.
“Do you have anything…?” Evon asked once he actually cooperated with his friend and stood up. He let go of her hand and straightened out his clothes.
“Actually,” she started with a growing smirk, “I think I do.”
Her tone made him perk up—she sounded pretty sure of herself. “Oh? Tell me, tell me!”
Yasmine chuckled and raised a finger before retreating back into her side of the office. She didn’t go far before walking back with a small stack of papers in her hands.
“This.”
“What is it?” Evon asked and stepped closer.
“I found a conspiracy theory online,” she began and scanned over the page, “I think it’s a good foundation.”
“Conspiracy?” He reeled back, unsatisfied with the answer. “So you want to just rip off of other people’s material to make a story?”
Yasmine dramatically rolled her eyes before continuing, “No, it’s not ripping off of anyone’s story. There is only a small following behind the conspiracy and most people who have seen it think it’s completely off the wall crazy. So, if we do a paper breaking down everything about it—especially for those interested who want all the bulletin points in one article…”
It was clear she was excited by the idea but Evon wasn’t sold. He was hurting for ideas, sure, but he didn’t want to do anything that would cheapen his career. Even if most of his stories were ridiculous in nature, he still stayed away from gossip and pointless theories.
“What’s it about?” he asked despite his negative feelings.
“Okay so,” Yasmine took a breath and started to paraphrase the document, “You remember Ford Hyland? The scandal with his wife?”
“The weird cult stuff from five years ago?” Evon questioned with his confusion clear in his voice.
The musician Ford Hyland was well known as a rock star before the scandal five years ago. It almost entirely ruined his career and turned his name into an automatic association to a somewhat underground cult. When he and his wife divorced, his wife publicly made statements about the weird, religious organization that her husband was in and divulged into some rather odd stories.
She said there had been blackmail, imprisonment, and she even alluded to possible murder.
Some were empathetic to her tale but others saw it as just a way to stay in the spotlight after splitting with her famous husband.
For the most part, no one talked about that old, used up story so the fact Yasmine seemed so sure of it’s success was a little odd. Usually she was even more up to speed with the moment’s trend than he was.
“Yes!” The woman explained and waved the papers around.
Evon countered her excitement by calmly sitting back at his computer desk. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in her but he just was not feeling whatever it was that she was.
“And then Ford went on TV saying he didn’t have anything to do with Fort Heaven and it was just a stupid cult that losers from the eighties still clung to. Remember that?”
“Uh huh.” Evon looked to Yasmine with a curious expression but she ignored him in favor of divulging further. “The real Ford was ASSASSINATED and replaced with a doppelganger that people believe is named Gerald Walters—”
“Wait,” he stopped her mid-breath so she couldn’t get a chance to keep going, “how do these people know who the doppelganger is?”
Yasmine lowered the pages and her mouth remained ever so slightly agape as she searched her recent memories for answers. When she came out blank, she admitted, “I don’t know.”
“It’s clearly clickbait bullshit,” he remarked with a dry laugh before spinning around in his chair and returning to his laptop.
That didn’t stop Yasmine from following him and stepping into his line of sight again. “That doesn’t matter,” she said as she passed the papers over to him whether he liked it or not. “It’s interesting. It will get hits—and that’s what we need, man—HITS.”
“You don’t even buy into it, do you?” Evon asked as he glanced up at her. All of her energy was going toward the issue they both were stuck with. They needed money.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she said and relaxed her shoulders. “If we can get some interesting anecdotes or an interview with Ford even…”
“Think he’d even agree to that?” Evon laughed as he asked, already imagining how well that would go over.
Yasmine shrugged as she leaned against his desk. “What the hell else does he have going on?”
He nodded slightly in agreement though he still didn’t believe the man would ever take an interview with them. Especially not about the event that ruined his career—even if it was to, ironically, revive his career.
But it was worth a shot.
“Better this than nothing,” Evon surrendered. As far away as the piece was from what he would like to do, it was still something.
His friend pumped her fist in the air. “Yuss!” She whipped out her phone, tapped the screen a few times before placing it on the desk.
Evon leaned forward and read the name ‘Gavin McKeen’ on the screen. He was their direct superior and, naturally, the person who approved of their pieces or denied them.
Gavin didn’t own the company but he was friends with the creators so talking to him was, sometimes, no different than talking to the CEOs. A lot of the writers—especially part time freelancers—were terrified of him for some reason. The man had a lot of reason to be smug and demeaning but he wasn’t and, rather, tended to encourage and root for newer writers.
“Heellllo?” Their boss drew out. The sound of wind was in the background, letting both Evon and Yasmine know that he was driving.
“Hey Gavin,” Yasmine took the lead, “I think Evon and I have got a pretty good joint piece…”
“Joint?” he questioned immediately.
“Yeah,” she replied, “if it’s approved it might take a little bit of time to complete. We’d have to conduct at least two interviews so…”
“You can’t just research?” Gavin asked, sounded a bit taxed.
“We could but the story would come out flat and pointless,” Evon answered, “there’s gotta be new information that only we can provide.”
He and Yasmine traded glances before they both looked back to the phone. Their boss was taking a suspiciously long time to answer.
“…Sir?” Yasmine called out after another second.
“Pitch it to me,” he got straight to the point.
Evon caught his friend’s gaze again and she looked as though she wanted him to explain. He shook his head and vigorously pointed to her and then to the phone. She let out a silent sigh and agreed while Evon continued to urge her to speak.
“Alright,” she said, “Not long ago, Ford Hyland was accused by his wife of being in an insane cult which he denied. He even smeared the ‘church’s’ name and some people suspect that the church had him killed and then replaced him. There are accounts showing the physical differences between the Ford then and the Ford now and his singing changes—everything.”
When she finished there was silence.
Evon didn’t look away from the phone and didn’t dare breathe. Whether he liked the plan or not, he still didn’t want to be rejected.
“Well…” Gavin finally spoke, “it’s a strange thing to write about…but many blogs and journalists are bringing back old topics and rehashing things. That’s the cool new thing to do and many of our readers and subscribers probably haven’t even heard of this story before.”
Both leaned in toward the phone and Yasmine asked, “So…is that an approval…?”
Another agonizing few seconds passed before their boss said, “Yes. I approve.”
“Yes!” she yelled and threw her arms up as Evon stood from his chair to high-five her.
“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Gavin interrupted them, “I’ll give you a week to convince me it’s going to be good and then we’ll talk real deadlines. If you two don’t get a good one this time…I may have to bump you down to part time.”
“We won’t disappoint,” Evon assured with a grin. “Promise.”
The man laughed. “Well alright. See you in a week.”
When the line went dead both Evon and Yasmine let out huge sighs of relief. Then, as Evon really soaked in what just happened, he froze.
“What?” Yasmine noticed right away.
“Why did I promise that?” he asked in a low voice, “Why did I promise that it was going to be good?”
“Cause it is,” she remarked and nudged him with her elbow. “You never break your promises, Evon.”
#fort heaven#my novel#writeblr#my writing#lgbt writers#might create something of an archive on here like on my website#depending on how this works out
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