#the disney sign is ATROCIOUS though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

A story by heroes and villains Roman Castile: Prince

To bring out your inner truth, to stand by your friends. To be the hero of your own story.

The very next day he came out as gay to the school.

He walked through the hallways with his head held high, a confident cadence in his step. He knew that he was getting stares all over and that was rather the point.

When he walked into his first homeroom of the year he was pleasantly surprised to see Virgil there, and no Janus.

Upon seeing him Virgil’s eyes widened. Roman strode in proudly and sat himself on the empty desk next to Virgil’s, his back to the front, feet on the chair and planting his new sparkling, rainbow, backpack next to him, and dragging a hand to his matching hair.

“You are extremely extra any chance you get aren’t you?” Virgil chuckled.

“I am,” Roman agreed as he took off his jacket revealing the full extent of his once white, now rainbow colored shirt, which proudly read ‘I’m a Gay Disney Prince!’. The writing was part of the original shirt. Except for the ‘gay’ bit. That, Roman added himself while he dyed the shirt by using duct tape to write out the letters, paint the shirt and then take of the tape to leave one white word to contrast against the colorful shirt.

So he was pretty much a walking rainbow with a neon-sign on his chest.

It couldn’t be more clear if he shouted it at the top of his lungs. Or maybe if he kissed a guy in front of the whole school. But he wasn’t that extra and the guy he’d want to kiss would not appreciate the gesture.

“Well it looks good on you,” Virgil complemented and Roman made a bow.

“Why thank you, mi caballero guapo,” he teased. Just then their homeroom teacher came in and made introductions, prompting Roman to take his seat, while she handed out their schedules.

Roman looked over at Virgil’s and grinned widely.

“We have almost every class together!” he exclaimed excitedly. Sure the odds were in their favor considering they had the same homeroom, but it wasn’t a guarantee. Last year he’d shared homeroom with André and only had two classes in common.

“Aside from our electives that is. Why am I not surprised you’re taking drawing classes? Though you don’t really need the extra help. You are amazing as you are. Which reminds me. Did you think about sending in your designs?” When Roman looked up he saw that 1 his face and Virgil’s were much to close and 2 he was overwhelming Virgil with his fast paced rambling.

He sat up straight as fast as he could. “Sorry. Got a bit ahead of myself there,” he apologized.

Virgil blushed and looked away to stare at his hands that were tugging at his hoodie in his lap.

Roman tried his best not to hope that the color shining through the foundation was because his neighbor was at least a little into him. ‘He is uncomfortable for god’s sake! For once in your life try to not make it about yourself!’ he thought to himself.

“No problem… Well… I don’t know. You really think he’d want it?” Virgil asked awkwardly.

“Are you kidding? If I were forced in that atrocious ‘crime against fashion’ as you adequately called it, I’d be wishing on every star for a new outfit. And what you have drawn up. It’s not just an answer to his every prayer, it’s the most awesome costume he could ever hope for.”

Virgil offered him that adorable half smile of his and looked down. “Alright… I’ll send it in… But with some adjustments and under an alias,” he insisted.

“How about Dante?” Roman offered. He’d still know it was Virgil no matter what alias he’d choose. But BS and the others didn’t need to know who exactly designed his new look.

Virgil nodded. “Sounds good,” he agreed with the smallest smile.

Before Roman could ask what he was thinking about that made him smile, the door opened and none other than Janus strolled in.

“Mr. Bullard. So kind of you to join us,” the teacher noted displeased as she handed him his schedule.

Roman noticed Virgil’s good mood disappearing as soon as he walked in. Now Roman thought about it, while he got a rather detailed report on his neighbor’s summer, Janus hadn’t been mentioned once. Had Virgil and Janus gotten into a fight? Did this have something to do with the canceled plans Virgil mentioned right before the lamp came down?

Janus more or less ignored the teacher and looked around, eyes landing on Roman with contempt and narrowing when they spotted Virgil next to him.

He walked over. “Move, that’s my seat,” he growled.

“De ninguna manera. You want to sit with the coolest kid in school, get here on time,” Roman taunted confidently. He wasn’t scared of him and he wouldn’t leave Virgil with someone he seemed to want to distance himself from.

“Excuse me?” Janus’ eyes narrowed and he raised a fist as if preparing to punch him. Roman didn’t even blink.

“Mr. Bullard! Seat! Now!” the teacher insisted. Bullard glared at Roman one last time before looking at Virgil expectantly. “You heard the teacher Jan. Just go,” the purple wonder huffed.

Janus blinked a few times in disbelieve. Then his face hardened and he went to sit on an empty desk to their left.

“Good. As I was saying, I hope the rest of the year will go without any more incidents like yesterday. Mr. Anker, Mr. Castile, I speak for the whole school when I say that we are happy to see you two are back and unfazed by yesterday’s incident,” the teacher offered kindly.

“Thank you Mrs. Foster,” Virgil muttered a little embarrassed.

“I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of my radiant presence for another day,” Roman jested with a smirk. Causing his classmates to laugh. Well, most, Janus looked like he wanted to glare a hole in his head.

Roman ignored him. Virgil was chuckling next to him and that was a million times more interesting.

The teacher continued with taking attendance and going over all the basic first day announcements. When the bell rang Roman walked with Virgil to his locker, which happened to be only ten away from his. Virgil stayed with him as he retrieved his things and they talked about their homeroom teacher who seemed to be nice but firm. Something they could appreciate.

“Where are we headed next?” Roman asked as he dug into the back of his locker where his pencil case was currently hiding from him.

“Um…” he could hear Virgil digging through his backpack. He’d seen Virgil memorize their schedule earlier. He assumed that Virgil’s anxiety caused him to double check if he remembered right. Which wasn’t a bad thing to be honest. Better safe than sorry right?

“Hey!” Virgil exclaimed behind him. Roman dropped the case and turned around to find Janus looking over Virgil’s schedule with a frown.

“How can we have no classes together? I thought we were going to take sociology?”

“No!” Virgil stated firmly as he snatched the paper back. “You were. I tried to tell you that I wanted to do art, and you didn’t listen. Like usual,” Virgil bit at him before looking at Roman.

“We’re in building C. Let’s go,” he huffed. Roman nodded, picked up the case and shut his locker.

“Virge come on!” Janus objected frantically as he ran out in front of them, keeping them from making their way to class. “You are mad, I get it, I’m sorry okay? Can’t we talk about this? We always work things out,” he pleaded. Roman almost felt sorry for him. He looked genuinely terrified of losing Virgil’s friendship.

Virgil squared his shoulders and lifted his head.

“My decision is final J. I’m done enabling your behavior. I thought I was helping you out, but I was making it worse. I can’t protect you anymore… You are right. Sometimes we have to do what’s best for us. And for me, that is not being around you anymore.” Roman could tell that this was hard on Virgil. So when Janus reached out for him he went to stand in between them.

“He’s asking you to back off. Give him some space.”

Janus’ face went from pleading to murderous in a second. Next thing Roman knew he was pushed against a locker. “Stay out of it Chapero!” He said the slur in a mocking tone, with a purposefully horrible accent. Roman found himself letting out a growl as he turned their position around.

“You better not know what you just called me,” he warned.

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean. Payaso,” Janus taunted.

“Roman! What’s going on? Let him go. Let’s just go to class. Please.” Roman looked to Virgil, recalling that stress wasn’t good for him. “Sorry. You’re right. We’ll be late,” he sighed, letting go of the other teens collar and following Virgil, trying to calm himself down.

“Get to class Jan!” Virgil instructed his former friend.

“This isn’t over!” Janus replied. He didn’t come after them though. Good, Roman wouldn’t be able to refrain from using his powers a second time.

When they got outside and headed to building C Virgil laid his hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly.

Was he okay? “I’ll be fine, just pissed off. How about you? He was your friend for a long time right?” he asked instead.

Virgil sighed sadly. “He lives in the house next to mine. We basically grew up together I guess. And I tried to protect him from bullies as best I could, you know because of,” Virgil gestured to the left side of his face and Roman nodded in understanding.

“I didn’t realize he isn’t that same kid anymore. I guilted myself into sticking with him.

He was my friend, if I didn’t help him who would? He needed me. He stuck with me too. You get the picture. When he told me to take the same elective as him. I had enough. I told you about the summer camp I went to. What I didn’t mention was that it was a camp where they teach you to stand up for yourself. ‘your needs are important too’ and all that stuff. So when I got home I asked my dad to help me convince the principal to make sure I shared as little classes with him as possible. I felt shitty doing it. But at camp I also learned that me tolerating Jan so long isn’t helping him. Mrs. Danvers was on the right path when she separated us last year. We both need to learn be us without the other. And maybe when we’ve figured that out, we can try again.”

Roman nodded along, his anger finally calming down completely.

“What did he say?” Virgil asked. “Janus likes to brag that he is fluent in Spanish and French. I didn’t know he’d also learned slang.”

“He learned slang alright,” Roman huffed, back in a bad mood.

“I’m pretty sure he was just trying to get a rise out of me, which succeeded.” Why did he let that stupid word get to him? He should’ve just let it go.

“You sure you want to know?” he asked, not wanting to be the cause of more discord for his classmate.

“Yes. If it upset you that much, I do,” Virgil said firmly.

“Alright. Payaso, means clown,” Roman told him. Virgil nodded waiting for the other one. The one that had made Roman nearly see red.

“And… Chapero,” he felt his face reflect the distaste he felt just saying it. “It means- It refers to my…”

Roman gestured to his shirt, unwilling to say it aloud.

It was 2016! Being gay shouldn’t be looked down upon anymore. It’s just not right. That was what had bothered him really. Janus using his coming out to the school as a weapon against him. Especially because he lacked the spine to let Virgil know what he was saying.

“Seriously!?” Virgil growled already turning around, presumably to berate Janus on his behalf. Roman quickly grabbed the back of his hoodie to stop him. “We can’t be late. Not for him,” he reminded Virgil.

“You’re right,” Virgil agreed though he sounded extremely reluctant.

Soon they arrived in their classroom with a few minutes to spare.

Roman followed Virgil to a desk halfway the room. Not his own usual front row seat, but neither was it Virgil’s standard far back hiding spot.

“Well what do you know? My two favorite boys at one desk. Must be my lucky day!” Roman looked up from his backpack and saw that Stacey sat herself on top of his desk.

“Good morning to you too Stacey.” Roman offered politely. He knew it was his own fault, and she was his friend. But he was still a little jealous.

“Hi,” Virgil greeted casually, unknowingly making Roman feel significantly better. He didn’t look like he was very affected by the presence of a girl he was going out with.

“Ro. Guess where we’re going for our date?” Stacey asked, her eyes gleaming teasingly. She had called him last night to thank him and make sure that he was alright after being rejected. When he admitted he wasn’t technically rejected, he just panicked, she had burst out laughing. And now she was torturing him it seemed.

“No clue,” Roman admitted, noting that there was once again color shining through Virgil’s foundation. So maybe Stacey didn’t leave his neighbor as unmoved as he’d initially thought.

“The art studio! We’re going to go nuts on a blank canvas together. Isn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever heard?”

It was a great activity to do together for two artistic people. Virgil clearly knew how to plan a first date. Stacey was going to love it.

“Well… It’s basically just hanging out,” Virgil corrected Stacey quietly. And Roman almost felt bad for feeling so relieved. He was getting emotional whiplash from this conversation.

“Yeah. What did you call it? Vibe check?” Stacey wondered.

“Something like that,” he nodded.

“Basically we’re going to roll with it as friends and see if we click romantically while we are pouring our souls out on canvas. No click? No hard feelings,” Stacey explained with a casual shrug. Then the teacher came in and she hurried to her seat.

During class Roman did his best to focus on the teacher. But every now and then his thoughts drifted to Virgil and what it would be like if he was the one going to the art studio with him. He imagined Virgil teasing him, because he wasn’t that great at drawing. Pretty soon they’d start painting each other and then… The bell rang. Right class, crush next to him.

The rest of the day went rather pleasant. At least until he was walking to his locker after Drama with Miguel and Kelly. He could hear a loud bang before they rounded the corner. There was shouting in the hallway and he and his friends hurried to break up what they were sure was a fight.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw Virgil was being held against the locker by his former best friend. Several witnesses were yelling at Janus to let Virgil go, but no one seemed willing to actually do something.

Virgil stared back at Janus with steady eyes. “No!” he stated firmly.

Roman had seen enough. He dropped his backpack and shouted at full volume.

“Let him go Bullard!” Everyone else fell silent. Janus looked over at Roman as did Virgil.

“I’ve got this Roman,” the shorter boy stated.

“I know. But you don’t have to do this alone,” Roman assured him, feeling Kelly and Miguel coming to his side. Time for Virgil to learn what it was like when your friends had your back.

“I texted the others. They are on their way,” Kelly informed him quietly. Roman nodded to show he’d understood her. Then he turned his attention back to Bullard.

“I’ll ask one more time. Leave him alone.”

Janus released his grip and Virgil barely kept himself from crashing to the floor.

“Think you can take me Castile?” he scoffed stalking towards him, putting himself between Roman and Virgil. He came to a stop a few feet away.

“I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of getting me in trouble,” Roman replied firmly. His mother would murder him if he got detention.

“So you’re just talk then huh? Afraid to get your butt kicked in front of everyone? Trying to score easy points with Virgil? Hoping I’ll let you steal him from me that easily?” he taunted.

“Trying to repay him in some small way for saving my life yesterday. But none of that is any of your business. Virgil’s decision to finally break free from you has nothing to do with me, and everything with how you’re treating him. I don’t understand what he saw in you that made him stick around this long. But you took it for granted and now it’s done. Leave him alone,” Roman told him, hearing footfalls of his other friends arriving, once they were complete they started sending the crowd away.

“If you’re not going to help go to your classes.”

“No need for all of you to be late.”

“Go on. Nothing to see here.”

His gaze was trained on his opponent, but he could see and hear the crowd dispersing around them.

Janus’ eyes narrowed at him before his face and posture relaxed. He got a glint in his eyes, a smirk on his lips.

“What’s wrong Castile? Don’t want an audience? I thought you lived for the cheers of a crowd?” Roman let the words wash over him. If he didn’t get a reaction, he’d leave. He always did.

“Or maybe this is an exclusive event? Just for your little fanclub and Virgil? Is he your newest devoted follower?”

Roman quirked a brow. “You guys should head to class,” he told his friends.

“Ro!” Nora exclaimed in disbelief.

“You’ll all get in trouble if you don’t get to class in time. Now go,” he turned to Clara.

“Tell our teacher that Virgil and I will be there soon. I’m not feeling well and Virgil is looking out for me.”

“Making your friends lie for you Castile? Some friend you are.” That idiot really didn’t know when to shut his mouth.

“Or tell them the truth. Apparently Bullard want’s detention on the first day,” Roman corrected himself.

Clara nodded and his friends slowly walked away. Now Roman didn’t have to worry as much about holding back. He could convince one witness that nothing strange had happened if he used his powers. But all his friends standing so close? Not a chance.

“Now we’re talking! A private show, just for you Virge,” Janus looked behind him where Virgil was still standing, rubbing at his chest where Janus’ fist had pressed into him and looking at Roman with worry.

“Virge? You okay?” Roman asked, once more ignoring the taunts.

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered as he moved towards him, but Janus gestured for him to stop and Virgil obeyed, so suddenly that it almost seemed odd… Was that a reflex from years of doing whatever it took to appease his friend? Or should Roman take a look to see if his adversary was using some kind of power?

Being gifted wasn’t very common, or at least, knowing you were gifted wasn’t.

Animotropolis was one of only a handful of places in the world that had an a system in place to help gifted people for a reason. Roman knew he wasn’t the only one in the program right now, even if he was the only one in hero training, but he’d never met other members before.

Was Janus one of them? Or maybe self-taught? He could find out with just a well-timed peak…

No, not with Virgil so close and clearly upset. Looking meant seeing everything. Including how this situation was truly affecting Virgil. It felt… intimate and like a betrayal of trust.

He wouldn’t unless it was necessary.

“Just get to class. I can handle myself,” Roman assured Virgil. He could get to their classroom trough the hallway farther back. And once he was gone, Roman would be able to see Janus’ energy, read his intentions and defeat him without either of them getting hurt.

“Stop mocking me!” Apparently Janus didn’t like being ignored.

Roman readied himself to block the punch and failing that, absorb the impact so he could defend himself. But he never got the chance to do either.

Virgil had made his way between them somehow and was now sinking to the ground in pain as he clutched his stomach. Roman was next to him in a second.

“V… I” Roman glared up at Janus, who was staring at them stunned, fist still raised.

“Messing with him emotionally and mentally isn’t enough for you? You have to resort to physical violence as well? What kind of friend are you?” he demanded. He knew that this instance hadn’t been aimed at Virgil, but he hadn’t forgotten that Janus had clearly been too forceful when pushing Virgil against the wall.

For the first time since he’d met him, Janus didn’t have a snappy retort. He just looked away in shame and left.

Roman turned his attention back to his apparent guardian angel.

“You okay? Should we go to the nurse?”

Virgil shook his head. “No. Dad will lose it if he knows someone actually hit me. Let’s just go to class. I’ll be fine by the time we get there,” he assured Roman.

“Okay… If you are sure…” Roman allowed reluctantly. “Thanks for catching that one, but you didn’t have to. I did some self-defense courses.” More accurately he’s been trained in several forms of hand to hand combat for the past four years as part of his hero training.

“I would’ve been able to get out of harm’s way without hurting him,” he informs Virgil as he tries not to think about the fact that he, the superhero, had been saved twice by his romantic interest. And by the stars, it makes him like Virgil even more. Who wants a damsel, when they can have a knight in shining armor? Sometimes a savior needs saving. Then again, Virgil seemed like he could use some saving as well.

“I’ll remember that,” Virgil grinned trough his pain.

“Seriously though that’s the second time you’ve jumped to my rescue. Thank you,” Roman offered gently as he helped Virgil up and they both started walking to class.

Virgil grinned back at him through the pain. “Guess DreamPrince inspired me to be heroic,” he joked.

“He does seem to inspire a lot in you. I’m almost envious of him,” Roman admitted, not really looking at Virgil to hide his sincerity. “I’d love to be the one to inspire someone so much, artistically and the like I mean. Oh, that would be the dream. To be someone’s muse and have them be mine in return.”

Sadly Roman Castile didn’t inspire Virgil much. Not even remotely in the way Virgil inspired him. He was the one who’d made him want to be a hero. Thoughts of him had made him write monologues and characters, play and sing his heart out like never before.

He’s had other crushes. But Virgil seemed to be always there somewhere on the peripheral of his mind.

“That would be pretty cool I guess,” Virgil allowed, now seemingly back to normal.

“Are you sure we don’t need to have you checked out?” Roman worried. Virgil nodded firmly.

“I barely feel it anymore. He didn’t hit that hard,” he shrugged.

Roman decided to let it go.

The rest of the day went by without much trouble. Virgil even sat with Roman’s group over lunch. They didn’t sit next to each other for every class. Most classes they shared with a few of Roman’s other friends and they seemed to have decided that Roman had to be saved from embarrassing himself by method of constant supervision. So while they always sat close, they only shared a desk for English and History.

At the end of the day Virgil and Stacey left for the art studio and Roman couldn’t think of anything else than that all evening. That is until he got a text from Stacey.

“Awesome evening, no spark though. ;p Don’t blow it this time!”

Roman’s heart hammered in his chest. What was he supposed to do? Call him up right away?

No. He probably should wait for Friday. Hang out with him and see if sparks fly without the pressure of it being a real date. And if the evening sucked, well he had patrol after dinner, so that’d be too bad for any villains he came across.

@moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse @cirishere @hestianerd1

Passion and duty

Masterlist

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #janus sanders #hero au #fic #tw:slurs #tw: homophobia #Janus is acting not so great

14 notes · View notes

anxiouslyfred · 4 years

Text

Discovery of Magic

so I pulled 4 names out of the hat, got Thomas, Logan, Remy and Romulus and somehow forgot you know, to include discovering magic somewhere along writing about the Functions appearing, Thomas meeting Creativity and Logan just getting annoyed.

At least I mentioned magic though

/\/\/\/\/\

The sides had become commonplace to Thomas. Their appearances no longer shocked him, but he would sit with Logan discussing or trying to figure out how the sides actually gained human form and whether there could be a scientific basis for their existence.

“We could really use Creativity for this discussion. He would have the most accurate information, provided I am correct in believing he was the first of all of us to gain form.” Logan was musing, looking through the pages of observations and data he’d managed to gather since Thomas began questioning the subject.

Thomas was already raising a hand to call a side before he paused, “When you say Creativity you mean Roman, right? It’s not Remus I’m meant to be summoning?”

“I mean Creativity. Before he decided there was too much control over the rest of us in his role. It’s unlikely the brothers will return to being the King without some difficulty.” Logan explained, shaking his head at the offer.

That shook Thomas’s understanding of his sides once more. “Wait, you mean there was one singular Creativity that embodied both the sides I know as Creativity now?”

“He means it’s midnight and I’m missing you, Babes!”The voice came from a man Thomas had never seen before, although undoubtedly another copy of himself. It was a toss up over which was more confusing, the sunglasses being worn, or the paper sign proclaiming ‘SLEEP’ on the man’s chest.

A glance to Logan showed his bewilderment reflected back. “I don’t believe he does mean that, given neither of us know you. Are you another side?”

“A function, Baby. A function you’re still depriving yourself of. I’m Sleep but you can call me anytime.” The new function shoved his sunglasses up, coming over to force a space between Logan and Thomas on the sofa and leaning into Thomas.

Logan had already grabbed a notebook and pen, more questions sparking in his eyes. “Thomas never had functions before now. How did you form?”

“Don’t know, some dude called Romulus met me like twenty minutes ago, mentioned the time and told me how to get here.” Sleep shrugged before frowning. “No, you aren’t doing that, Gurl. Thomas should be sleeping and that means goodnight for you too!”

Before Logan could say anything more there was a kiss to his forehead and he was falling back into the mind space and fast asleep.

Thomas was definitely alarmed by that display of the functions powers but his attempt to back away was hindered by Sleep latching onto his arm. “No Cutie. The only place we’re going is upstairs to your bed.”

“Do you at least have a name if I’ve got to sleep with you?” Thomas tried to delay getting up, only to find himself being carried. A lullaby he thought might be from Mary Poppins began to be hummed from the chest he was cradled against. Listening to the tune finally started to relax him after the recent alarms.

It was only as he was tucked into bed beside Sleep that he got a reply, just as he was drifting off. “I’m called Remy, Darling.”

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Thomas woke the next morning to the sound of Logan huffing and a chuckle he didn’t recognise. It was as he blinked at the side and the regal copy beside him that he realised Remy’s arms were wrapped around him.

“Can I at least get a coffee before you start explaining whatever’s irritated you?” He yawned, stopping Logan from whatever he’d been about to say and sitting up, finding no resistance from the arms around him.

Sleep also began sitting up, securing his sunglasses in front of his eyes as the curtains were opened. “Gurl, I better be getting some of that bean juice too.”

“Did I adopt Remy in my sleep?” He grumbled, tired thoughts moving sluggishly as he got up. He had to glance at the one person who hadn’t spoken yet as he hoped to pass through the door.

They were dressed in a mixture of golds and silvers, with a crown of metallic vine leaves perched on his head. Where Roman and Remus dressed reminiscently of Disney characters, this figure seemed to bring their wardrobe from the Ancient Romans or Greeks.

“Creativity you need to let Tomas through.” Logan tried to insist, tugging on his tunic since they had both been blocking the doorway.”

Everyone watched as the side rolled his eyes and just walked directly into Thomas, knocking him back onto the bed before freezing. “When did he stop being able to walk through us?”

“Please say I’m not being told Creativity is an imbecile? God you guys took ages to get past the camera if it was turned on and he just expected to walk through me?” Thomas groaned, torn between going back to sleep or trying to demand Roman and Remus were returned.

Logan snorted, smirking over at the other. “Not an imbecile, just wilfully ignoring the memories of the brothers since, and I’m quoting here, ‘What can halves of me teach this full unfettered splendour?’ Oh and since all my questions have been given the answer magic I am still looking into the reason for our manifesting. He’s atrocious for any form of logical reasoning.”

“I think I’d prefer Remus too... what actually is your name, anyway?” Thomas groused, standing again to walk away. “Rems, if you want coffee you better stop snickering.”

“I’m Romulus,the King of your Imagination, at your service, Thomas.” The dramatic bow, including whisking the crown of his head to hold outstretched fell flat given Thomas was entirely focused on setting the coffee pot off and shoving some bread into the toaster.

Glancing back, he did snicker a little. “I see where Roman gets it from. Logan, want some crofters on toast? You might as well have breakfast with me while you’re here.” Thomas offered, already getting the jelly out of a cupboard, smiling when he spotted Remy getting the mugs out and pouring them both coffees.

There was quiet for a shot time as Romulus tried to figure out if he had been snubbed since he wasn’t offered any form of sustenance while the function and other side were both provided for. Everyone else was waking up fully with the extra energy of food and coffee in their systems.

“So, Romulus. Remy mentioned you being there when he formed last night. Are you the one responsible for forming Functions and Sides alike?” Thomas asked after watching both the newcomers for a while.

That got a proud smile and Romulus straightened up to stand tall. “Indeed, tis I. By the powers of the moon I came into being and now seek to provide only the best aids to your living such as your personality requires.” He announced.

“Where does the moon come into this?” Logan asked, pulling over Thomas’s calendar and a page of moon phrases up on his phone.

Romulus pouted at the immediate distraction Logan had taken instead of waiting for an answer by trying to figure it out himself. Deciding to recapture everyone’s attention with a dramatic recounting he began; “Why the moon was full the night I formed. Thomas was dreaming and wishing about Hercules and the Greek gods as only Disney would tell their tales. I began to form from the strength of those dreams, but chose to manifest as Creativity as there was such joy in it for young Thomas. So many wondrous dreams of rescuing a princess and living happily with her forever more.”

The story broke of as simultaneously the three at the table began choking, and laughing when they could breathe again. “Wow, you really should look through some of Roman’s memories, Remus’s would be pretty interesting for you too.” Thomas couldn’t think of much more to say, caught in the hilarity that apparently he was going to come out to himself years after accepting his sexuality.

Logan was laughing as well, head in his hands and remembering the times before attraction had even been a thought in Thomas’s mind beyond the stories. Even that had been after Romulus had decided to split. He had been writing the story down for logical analysis of how reasonable some of the specific details could be but the notes could wait for a moment. “We’re gay, Romulus. Please tell me you understand what homosexuality is, regardless of what memories you’re ignoring”

“It means happy?” Creativity tried, glancing at Remy even as he joined in with the laughter.

“Babes, you made me from present day Thomas, of course I know he’s only going to want that happy ever after with some gorgeous man. No dames allowed in this fairytale, no ma’am.” Remy had the clearest attempt at explaining just why they were all laughing at Romulus’s clueless story. “Well, they’re welcome as friends actually. We can always use some fabulous bitches.”

Shaking off the moment of hilarity and summoning a book they’d looked through with Talyn once, Logan prevented Romulus from talking further. “Regardless, it’s becoming clear that Roman and Remus are much better suited to our Thomas’s needs than you are. I believe I can investigate the way we formed adequately enough with the information you’ve provided now.”

“But what about all the other functions I was going to create?” Romulus protested the clear dismissal, some of Remus’s restless energy finally showing through as Thomas seemed to be agreeing.

“Babes, I’ve existed for like 12 hours and even I can say that with the headache from the six sides he has, having more than a couple functions will make this guy a walking disaster, never knowing what to focus on.” Remy shook his head, already aware there were a few other functions about and wondering if they would ever meet Thomas.

Thomas picked up on both comments with a side glance. “Yeah, my friends already get concerned over how much I talk to myself. Probably best you separate again so I don’t have too many people walking around.”

Instead of saying anything more Romulus once again dropped into a deep bow, sinking out. Remy also toasted his coffee, downing the rest and fading back into Thomas’s mind.

Logan and Thomas shared a glance now they were alone. “So how did Romulus reform? You said you thought it would be difficult.”

“Apparently they’ve always been able to, but neither particularly likes Creativity. They prefer to be brothers but when they realised what we’ve been discussing and trying to research they wanted to help out. Roman left a note in my room explaining what was going on.” Logan sighed, leaning against one of the counters enough his head was against the wall.

“Didn’t seem like Romulus wanted to follow the plan.” Thomas remarked, half considering how he could comfort an obviously stressed Logical side.

Logan shook his head. “He just wanted to pretend you were still a kid and nothing had changed. For now, I’ve got a book of crossword puzzles in my room that I think I’ll spend an hour or two doing after confirming Romulus has gone.”

Thomas waved as the side disappeared, mentally making a note to be careful what questions he asks himself in the future. After all now he apparently had some functions to get to know.

#character thomas #thomas sanders #king creativity #remy sanders #logan sanders #functions #magic #sleep sanders #funbruary

13 notes · View notes

carpisuns · 4 years

Text

tagged by @marikittynoir and @botherkupo thanks :3

Get to know you meme

Nicknames: don’t have any :( name is maryssa tho

Zodiac sign: capricorn (but idk what this says about me lol i know nothing about astrology)

Height: 5′8”

Hogwarts House: ravenclaw (caw caw binches)

Last thing I googled: miraculous lucky charm marinette

Song stuck in my head: mmm so many from my ML playlist lol but we’ll go with “beige” by yoke lore

Fav musicians: i’m more a fan of individual songs than artists lol but i love sleeping at last, yoke lore, the beatles, sylvan esso, aldous harding

Following: 550

Followers: 1515 (i just hit 1500 today i am going to do something for it later to say thank you but for now...thank you haha)

Do you get asks: sometimes! lately i gotten several about milk because of reasons 👀🥛

Amount of sleep: 6 or 7 hours

Lucky number: 71 or 59 because those are the numbers of my favorite hockey players, Dylan Larkin and Tyler Bertuzzi *dabs*

What are you wearing: floral dress (with POCKETS!!)

Dream job: definitely not what i’m doing right now 🥴my old job was p close to my dream job. i was a writer/editor for a children’s magazine and i miss it

Dream trip: this is boring but i’m a ho for disney world 💅

Instruments you play: piano but it’s been a longggg time since i’ve practiced

Languages you speak: just English...can probably carry a pretty basic conversation in spanish if the person is really patient and nice lol

Fav song: this is hard because i go through phases of being obsessed with different songs and playing them on repeat until i get sick of them lol but right now it’s probably “heavy” by birdtalker

Random fact: already gave this away lol but i’m a hockey fan. detroit red wings ✌️(they are ATROCIOUS right now though and my miraculous obsession has taken over so i haven’t been watching lately oops)

Cats or dogs: doggos

Aesthetic: idk how to answer this...if it’s my fashion sense i’m split between cute dresses and hockey t-shirts lol. and if it’s decor i like things to be bright and clean looking, lots of natural light, white, floral, plants (except i’m a plant killer so mine are plastic slkdfjjadf). my bedroom and living room color combo is teal and gray with yellow accents

not sure if you’ve been tagged but i tag @mowmowmice, @mlady-noir, @miraculousladrien, @thewritewolf, @laadychat, @emsylcatac

#mine #about me

12 notes · View notes

im-auntie-social · 4 years

Text

I hath been tagged

thanks to @nossbean now I have something to focus on for the next few minutes that’s not... you know, everything else.

Rules: Answer 21 19 questions and tag 21 19 people you would like to get to know better!

Nickname? I’ve honestly had very few. I used to add “The Emasculator” to my nametag at quiz bowl tournaments, because our school team liked to be the Bad Boys of Quiz Bowl, showing up in Che t-shirts and writing snarky nicknames and hanging our team sign upside down. Outside of that though, not much going on.

Real name? Robin

Zodiac? Taurus. (And in Chinese zodiac I’m a dog, so together I’m a bulldog!)

Favorite musicians or groups? Lately I’ve been on a CHVRCHES binge, but my go-tos are stuff from the 90s like Third Eye Blind. I never said I was cool.

Favorite sports teams? Hufflepuff?

Other blogs? Yeah I have a wordpress but it’s been gathering dust for the last few months.

Do I get asks? Nope, I’m kind of a tumblr lurker (except for aforementioned @nossbean ;)

How many blogs do I follow? I just checked and holy crap 174? at least 100 of those must be dead though.

Tumblr crushes? Here’s the thing, most of my feed is people posting Gwendoline Christie and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau gifsets and those kind of trump tumblr crushes?

Lucky numbers? 13 shows up a lot, but I wouldn’t say it’s lucky.

What am I wearing? Holy crap I’m actually dressed for once! Jeans and my softest green sweater because I needed to feel warm and cozy today. And slippers because let’s not go too crazy on dressing like an adult.

Dream vacation? I just got back from Disneyland less than a week before it got shut down and hot damn that trip was pretty close to a dream (though if we’re dreaming I would have gotten to ride Rise of the Resistance a lot more and without having to be at the park gate two hours before opening). I think my ultimate vacation would be to Japan with a good guide who won’t let me be an idiot American all over the place, see everything outside Tokyo for a week or two then get three our four days at Tokyo Disney, then stop in Hawaii on my way back for a week or two of relaxing and snorkeling and smelling plumeria. I also adore this addition from my tagger: And as we’re talking dreams, I also echo sdw’s sentiments about everyone being properly compensated for their labour in any and all locations for any and all work they’re doing, pls and thx. ideally also with fancy things like paid sick leave, and a proper number of holiday days, and reasonable working hours.

Dream car? A reliable electric that isn’t a Tesla?

Favourite food? Peppermint ice cream.

Drink of choice? Right now, Twinings chai with vanilla soy creamer. If not that, then orange pekoe with a splash of milk.

Instruments? It’s humorous how many different instruments I’ve tried and failed to be anything more than passably competent at.

Languages? English. Sigh. I can understand a fair bit of Spanish, but trying to speak it is a crapfest because a) my accent is atrocious and I hate doing that to someone else’s language, and b) I can barely think on my feet in English let alone something I didn’t start learning until I was fourteen.

Celebrity crushes? Oh dear. Yes, the aforementioned Gwendoline Christie and NCW, but like, in an extremely intimidated kind of way? And the entire cast of Thor: Ragnarok pretty much.

Random facts? I have a BS in English because my college only gave BSes (I got one in biology at the same time, but I’m proud to also be one of three (3) lit majors in my graduating class). I was COO of a laser-cut wooden toy company for several years, because that’s a reasonable thing to do when one has a science PhD and an English BS. I have three tattoos: a triforce with my spouse and kids’ names, a badger, and a river otter.

Tagged? Well, as I’m a lurker in general and I’ve seen so many of these flying by my feed, let’s go with “if you see this and haven’t already done it, consider yourself tagged”

#questionnaires

2 notes · View notes

charleskenny · 4 years

Text

Animation Articles: May 10, 2020

A selection of the best animation articles including news, opinions, and features from around the world for the week beginning the 10th of May, 2020.

News

We must have reached a certain milestone in transitioning to the new normal this week as the pace of news picked up substantially after a very quiet month. The animation industry is grabbing the opportunity placed before it with both hands while the live-action sector in many nations is crippled. One US broadcast series amongst others decided to complete their season by turning to animation for its final episodes. This marks a milestone in primetime dramatic animated TV that’s slipped under the radar of many and really ought to be celebrated.

The Space Jam sequel gets a title. The original was amazing as a kid, but as an adult is a trainwreck. As a fan of animation, its atrocious. Coming more than 25 yearss after the original, it will be very interesting to see what a whole new generation of animators and artists come up with.

Rather than the model professional being a high-powered elite whose life is driven by ambition, advancement, and the job, we could define the ideal professional as someone who is working toward a rich, balanced, and good life.

Marge Dean, President of Women in Animation from her open letter to the animation community.

Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg are teaming up for another animated feature film this time based on the Maximum Fun podcast. Details are still light, but it is optimistic that adult animated features continue to make inroads in America.

The actors of Trolls: World Tour are upset that the straight-to-VOD model the film was released through means they will miss out on their cut of the box office gross as contained in their contracts. Although not strictly relating to animation, it could change some of the economics around the sector. Whereas once studios relied on big-name starts to marquee films in cinemas, the film itself takes centre stage at home. TV screens don’t permit details such as actor names on content thumbnails so will studios return to a focus on voice-acting talent instead of names for their films?

The Los Angeles Animation Festival is creating its own distribution arm as a means of boosting the availability of high-quality, creative animation. The move is not unique; GKIDS was born out of the New York International Children’s Film Festival (NYCIFF) and that distributors success is second to none. Here’s hoping the LA festival achieves similar things.

Warner Bros. tries to get down with today’s kids and informs the adults that its doing so via a press release. What marketing potential can TikTok have is unknown, but it’s surely a sign of the times that major studios will try anything to grab younger consumer’s attention.

Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon is a sequel to the original Inuyasha anime which ended in 2008. The new series will be broadcast this autumn with VIZ stating they have acquired North American rights.

The history of animated propaganda did not end with World War II, or even the Cold War. It continues today and the coronavirus/COVID-19 crises provides the perfect scenario for governments to exploit citizen fears and sway opinion in the absence of facts.

Auction house Sotheby’s in Hong Kong is currently exhibiting items from an upcoming sale of manga and anime art. Click through for the comprehensive slideshow. Click here to see the full listings and [gulp] current bids.

Features

What do animators and artists who worked Disney’s animated features think about their work being remade in live-action?

How can you not like Spike the Bee? Learn about the little guy’s on-screen adventures as well as the [ahem] ‘amusing’ way his signature buzz was created.

Watch Studio Ghibli Toshio Suzuki draw Totoro!

What is and isn’t ‘anime’ is a debate that started some time ago and is not going anywhere anytime soon. The latest series to get the “Is this anime?” treatment is Kappa Mikey. The argument is convincing though.

Lastly, learn how artists with autism are creating animation for Sesame Street.

Cool Amusing Thing of the Week

Turning web browsers into magical anime girls is old hat, but creating a whole series (of which the video below is the latest) is rather new.

youtube

Social Media of the Week

Originally published at https://animationanomaly.com/2020/05/10/animation-articles-may-10-2020/

#animation #anime

#anime #auction #Evan Goldberg #Inuyasha #Kappa Mikey #LAAF #My neighbour Totoro #Nickelodeon #primetime #propaganda #Scooby Doo #Seth Rogen #Space Jam #Spike the Bee #Studio Ghibli #Trolls World Tour #women in animation

1 note · View note

rebelsofshield · 6 years

Text

Star Wars Resistance: “The Recruit” -Review

A new era, new worlds, and a new generation of heroes, Star Wars returns to the world of animation with a colorful new series. While its current tone is undeniably light and it certainly is a little rough around the edges, Resistance shows signs of promise for a lively future. (Review Contains Spoilers)

youtube

When an assignment to transport intel to the Resistance goes awry, New Republic pilot Kazudo Xiono (Christopher Sean) pulls a daring maneuver to save his fellow pilots and the package in his control. Doing so earns him the attention and respect of Resistance hero Poe Dameron (Oscar Isaac). Seeing potential in the eager young man, Poe recruits him for a mission to search undercover for potential First Order involvement on the remote fueling/racing outpost, The Colossus. Leaving him under the watch of jaded mechanic, Jarek Yaeger (Scott Lawrence), Kaz is forced to make sense of a rough and tumble world while also doing his best to carry out a mission that may be more than he can handle.

It was known for a while that Star Wars Rebels was just one step in Disney’s long plan for the galaxy far, far away’s place in animation. When the Ghost crew’s adventure was announced to be ending in its fourth season, it was widely assumed by most that a new show would follow set in the era of the sequel trilogy. Even after Star Wars Resistance was officially unveiled back in April, just what show would premiere was more or less a mystery.

The result, if the one-hour series premiere “The Recruit” is any indication, is a colorful, visually distinct series that tries to capture a sense of anime style adventure with a light touch and an eye for the playful.

The most striking aspect of Star Wars Resistance at first glance is its vibrant visual style. Polygon Pictures and Lucasfilm Animation have chosen to add a colorful, cel shaded schema to Resistance’s characters and environments. It gives it a quick visual distinction from other Star Wars shows and manages to avoid the drab visuals that plagued early seasons of The Clone Wars and Rebels. While the character designs themselves take some getting used to, they move with a fluidity and energy that avoids the stilted animation that is common among series that employ similar artistic styles.

What the art style does lend itself well to is to rendering environments and vehicles. The Colossus itself is a gorgeously created environment that feels lived in and is swarming with its own sense of culture and diverse life forms. The design for the station and its twisting corridors is stunning and some shots of the surrounding oceans are simply gorgeous. The same can be said for how Resistance’s “anime inspired style” lends itself to its vehicle sequences. Whether in dogfights or in racing, Resistance is most at home when it is in the sky. Directors Steward Lee and Saul Ruiz render these moments with a dynamic camera that jostles alongside rocketing starships.

As for its narrative, unlike The Clone Wars which chronicled an era in time or Rebels which followed a family like ensemble, Resistance is clearly Kazuda Xiono’s story and that ultimately is where the show will need to find its most room to grow and where it struggles the most at the moment.

At the end of “The Recruit” it’s hard as a viewer to really get an understanding of what to make of Kazuda as a character. From the start of the episode, we understand that he is a pilot for the New Republic military and is very talented and brave despite his young age and naiveté. Even though he clearly has the piloting skills to have earned his role, we also learn that Kazuda owes much of his success to the political clout of his father Hamato Xiono, a Senator who has a less than positive view of the Resistance. Christopher Sean sells these early moments of frustration and a desire to prove oneself by helping others with a sense of earnestness. We understand why Kazuda wants this chance to prove himself and earn a place in the galaxy that isn’t defined by legacy or nepotism. However, tt just isn’t really clear why others would grant him this opportunity.

While Kazuda is certainly a well-meaning person, he also possess a rather pervasive sense of clumsiness and impulsive behavior. He comes across as a much younger character than the script may intend. In a way, this creative decision makes sense given the desire to appeal to a younger demographic at the start of the series, but it’s hard to understand whether Kazuda is a very young person operating in a more adult world or an adult with a very young mentality. The distinction is actually very important to our understanding of both the character and the world around him and it makes for some awkward moments throughout Brandon Auman’s script.

As it stands, it’s sort of hard to understand why Poe, who Oscar Isaac voices with as much effortless swagger as the films, would entrust a mission like this to Kazuda. It is easy to buy from how the episode opens that Poe would be impressed with his bravery or skills as a pilot, but to have this translate into an undercover spying addition can’t help but feel like an ill-advised move. For such a potentially sensitive mission, entrusting a young man you barely know seems like an odd move especially one that you’ve never actually seen do any real spying. This only grows increasingly bizarre as the episode stretches on and it is revealed just how atrocious Kazuda is at keeping a low profile. (On a related note, BB-8’s presence here feels a little forced. Not only does it not make much sense that Poe would leave his beloved droid with a relative stranger, but it’s not even really clear what BB is supposed to be doing? I like the little ball as much as anyone, but I can’t quite place for what purpose the droid serves.)

This is not to say that the script itself is a wash. Kazuda’s on station mentor, Jarek Yeager, is an instant standout. Scott Lawrence voices this older space jockey with a world weariness that speaks of someone that has spent their life growing up in conflict. It hints at the most interesting subject matter of “The Recruit” and the show as a whole, which is of a galaxy that is slowly readying itself for war whether it is ready or not. Not everyone is ready to read the signs of brewing conflict, and some, like Yeager, are simply unable to bring themselves to think of a galaxy at war again. It adds a potentially poignancy to the playfulness and the racing theatrics as we as viewers know that this is all about to fall apart once again in just a short time. Yeager himself also carries with him a sort of stern but loving fatherly approach to Kazuda that is rich with dramatic and emotional potential.

Even if he is maybe a tad too one note at the moment, Josh Brener’s Neeku Vozo is another source of joyful humor and good natured positivity that carries throughout. It would be nice to see Neeku eventually grow beyond ill-informed comic relief, but for the moment he adds another fun layer to a show that currently seems to be making a welcoming atmosphere its top priority.

The larger supporting cast in general is also rife with potential. Even if she doesn’t exist as more than an on-crew rival to Kazuda at the moment, Tam Ryvora is voiced well by Suzie McGrath and she adds another fun wrinkle to what appears to be the main ensemble. Even if we only see Torra Doza up close this episode, the Aces also offer up a cast of characters that are exciting in their design and potential.

Even the overarching plot of First Order influence on the Colossus is intriguing, although it feels too nebulous to make much of at the moment.

“The Recruit” shows a series with potential, but outside of its unique visual flair, it doesn’t seem to be reaching it as of yet. There are any number of paths that this series could take going forward and it will be excited to see if it sores or crashes and burns like the show’s own Fireball.

Score: B-

#Star Wars #Star Wars Resistance #review #reviews #Resistance #Kazuda Xiono

9 notes · View notes

hellacre13 · 6 years

Note

In what ways was new 52 better than rebirth?

New 52 Justice League stories were actually good and the team dynamics fresh and DC had a chance to build a modern take but they blew it. Have people actually read the crap that is Justice League Rebirth? Not even the most biased older reader can tell me Rebirth Justice League adventures or dynamics were good. Most of it was boring and built around a very forced and emotionally disconnected team. Origins, Throne of Atlantis, Trinity War, Amazo war, etc etc all were better stories.

It was nice to see a Superman and Batman with a more balanced friendship in the new 52. Batman is always depicted as a little disdainful of Superman preflashpoint. In the new 52 these two were like brothers and Batman never got a chance to walk all over Superman as he usually does. Go back and read the new 52. Compare it to other eras and media with BMSM. New 52 Superman had something most other Supermen lacked and its called a spine. He was also socially conscious. He never was about his comfort. Never put his love interests before the world nor sat on his butt to play house. He had a modern sensibility even while being idealistic. He was a little rough around the edges because he had a journey. He had no parents to run to and pet him. His upbringing helped mold who he was but his heritage was vital too and enhanced who he was.

He viewed his biological parents and Krypton with reverence. The Els in the new 52 were more interesting. Lara was not just relegated to some woman sobbing over a baby she’s sending away where all the glory goes to Jor-El. New 52 Lara is Jor-El’s equal. She is a badass warrior. Jor-el is a genius scientist and we learned about them and Krypton to learn to care for the world as much as the Kents and Kansas. New 52 Lana was awesome as was Steel. Contrary to what some Lois fans claim, Lois did have page time in the new 52. Compare Lois’ page time to preflashpoint early Superman adventures and you’ll barely see her around. Even when he married her, she had a specific function like Rebirth. And that is just to be there as the trophy wife. It amuses me that some people claim Lois married to Superman is better Lois stories. It in fact is so far from the truth hence the reason why the Lois fans still bitch all through Rebirth.There is not one definitive Lois story around in all her years married to Superman. In the new 52 she actually did some stuff without being there to serve as a love interest.

Jimmy was tons of fun and felt modern too. Cat also was not just relegated as a man eater. She was more layered and her and Clark’s attempt to modernize the journalistic aspect to Superman was a good idea. The idea Clark Kent keeps writing on himself, or still disappearing from his job to be Superman or giving Lois scoops etc in other verses shows how obsolete that part of Superman’s myth is and makes a mockery of journalism.But DC keeps going back to this and frankly it is not interesting nor does it represent truth or justice. All DC had to do was continue building new Superman’s world to flesh out all the other dynamics we know and try to fold him into the 21st century.

I know some fans struggled with the darker amazons in new 52 Wonder Woman. I can understand not liking them made into trading babies etc for weapons but trying to make an isolated homogeneous society a utopia is a fallacy. The idea the Amazons are just all sweet lotus eaters just does not interest me. I’d have preferred a balance. Living in a gilded cage doesn’t make you better than others. Especially if you doing it by excluding half of humanity. Just like any society the Amazons should have positive and negative attributes and like all societies need to grow and evolve. George Perez’s Amazons were more balanced than Rucka’s saccharin, vanilla Rebirth take. People give Azzarello a hard time but go back to Marston. His Amazons were not nice to men. Azzarello’s prob were closer to his. An ideal take for me would take Perex and Azzarello and fine tune them, while keeping some of either. New 52 Hippolyta to me is a bad ass who ought to have been given more exploration and Amazons like Dessa or Aleka are as interesting as Phillipus and Artemis . It’s just a matter of what the writer wants to say. But DC decide to once again throw everything out with Rebirth Diana. Going so far as putting her in a god damn asylum and saying she was deluded for 10 f**king years!

Zeus being Diana’s father did not bother me because it adds a whole new dimension you do not get with clay baby. I enjoyed clay baby under Perez but I enjoy demi goddess too. Her God family was one of the best takes on the Gods. All very creative. I miss them actually and find it a shame DC allows these versions to die and I find Rucka’s Rebirth take of Gods as “patrons” of Disney animals snooze worthy. New 52 Diana herself was compassionate, independent, fierce, wise, very powerful and enjoyed life. She wasn’t nerfed like she is being nerfed in Rebirth. Wonder Woman in Rebirth is usually whiny, confused, lost with as much charm as a stick in the mud. She has 3 people in her cast. An Etta Candy who I have no interest in. Give me Hessia any day. A whitebread Steve Trevor who is there to teach her about romance, though she slept with many sisters on her island and Conan. An a brother (no one asked for) who happens to be more powerful than she is. I saw a Diana taking on Darkseid, shoulder to shoulder with her male counterparts in New 52, and very capable. In Rebirth bullets are constantly taking her down Or other characters just punching her out.

Steve Trevor actually was better in new 52. He was out of Diana’s shadow and actually he not in hers. He served a purpose. For 30 + years Diana did not need Steve. The idea Rebirth tell us she needs him to be a complete character rings false. Their romance is forced in a couple of panels with the “easy” bs but we are told to accept it. Just like the crap by Jurgens that Superman was merged.

New 52 was a journey and building towards something. It was an unfolding verse. There was set up, there were stakes, and DC could have had payoff. They opted not to. Just messed up the entire verse and the momentum.. Rebirth is the equivalent of DC just plunking a status quo on a platter and readers are told to accept it.

Batman was DC’s top seller in the new 52 and he didn’t rely on wedding dresses to get a headline. While the Batcat wedding is a new dimension to the mythos, fact is Batman is character than sells no matter what. If Batcat broke up in ten years, Batman will still sell. Because his character drives his mythos, not his uniform, not who he bangs…HIM.

The new 52 kinda afforded this opportunity with the reboot. They could build and be free creatively. Rebirth imo writes you up against a wall. I believe other properties had interesting and fresh stories as well during the new 52 eg Aquaman, GL, Swamp Thing , Omega Men, Grayson, etc We lost good team books like new 52 Batman/Superman and Superman/Wonder Woman for that debacle called Rebirth Trinity. Rebirth Trinity’s crashing sales is a good metaphor for Rebirth. DC gave readers a book that features the three biggest heroes and you’d think it should be a best seller right? Rebirth Trinity sales in March 2018 issue #20 is down to 22,690 K. That is atrocious.

Just like everything else the Rebirth Trinity’s dynamics are very superficial and built on something that lacks true connectivity and emotion. DC thinks because it gives you a panel or two of characters saying 1+1= 2 then so it should be. They don’t seem to think it important to build something over a period of time to EARN it. It seems it’s their modus opernadi even in their cinematic verse too.And we all know how Marvel are kicking DC’s ass in the cinematic universe because they have what DC don’t and does what DC often will not, ie patience and take risks.

So in a nutshell. New 52 was show. Rebirth is tell. For me the Rebirth strategy, barring books like Batman or events books, that does not bode well for lasting or memorable stories. DC prob hope that with every retcon or renumbering people might forget that their foundation is crap and people will just buy into the hype. But that can only last for so long. New number ones and tons of variant covers to send up orders will only make them look good for a month until the next gimmick. Remember how they were preening in the early months of Rebirth because of double shipping and returnability? Those things just inflate numbers. They are not a sign that DC is growing its readership or a character is successful. Half of those books that seemed to do well in early Rebirth are at cancellation levels now.

People don’t have to take my word for it. Just go to any site that has sales data and compare. New 52 never had returnability or double shipping either. So people who try to hate on the new 52 , they do it a huge disservice, because it did the comic industry a huge favor while it was in a creative slump. Rebirth as far as I am aware has not saved anything.

#superman #wonder woman #batman #dc comics #dc rebirth #the new 52 #superwonder #justice league

40 notes · View notes

wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 6 years

Text

The Shape of Water review

Last year saw the release of an utter travesty of filmmaking: Beauty and the Beast. It is easily one of the worst films I have ever seen in my life; it lacked everything that made the original Disney film great. The side characters were all dull, Gaston was a fucking bore, the Beast was a bland CGI furry, and Emma Watson as Belle gave the most lifeless, miserable, atrocious performance of her entire career. And it sucks, because we DESERVE a good Beauty and the Beast film, we deserve a love story where the monster is more human than the human suitor, with sympathetic characters and an interesting antagonist… and visionary genius and absolute madman Guillermo del Toro gave us just that, with the Shape of Water, a film that is easily one of the greatest love stories ever told.

This film has been memed to Hell and back, what with the basic premise – a woman bones a fishman – being particularly amusing to the internet for obvious reasons. But to the shock of absolutely no one, the film is so much deeper than the sex – in fact, you don’t even get to see the sex, and I’ll get into why later in the review. For now, let’s start with a plot summary:

It’s the early 60s, and the Cold War is at its peak. Elisa Esposito is a mute janitor working at a government lab with her black BFF Zelda. One day, she discovers a creature being held at the government lab that the superiors are calling “The Asset.” An amphibious fishman from the Amazon, she finds herself intrigued by this being and soon finds herself befriending it. Not long after, the government plans to vivisect the creature, but Elisa ain’t having any of that shit, and so with her old man artist friend Giles plots to get the Asset free. But all this is easier said than done… can they free the Asset, or is the man running the show, Richard Strickland, going to catch on?

I’m gonna be doing a lot of comparing and contrasting to Beauty and the Beast, because these films do follow the same sort of basic structure and have a lot of the same archetypical characters and themes, such as “the real monsters are prejudiced humans” and “strong female who feels alienated from her society.” The latter is particularly relevant here, and not just for Elisa; del Toro has stated that the movie is meant to reflect on how he feels as an immigrant in America, and the feelings of isolation and being an outsider are major parts for every single one of the film’s sympathetic characters. Elisa is a mute, as is the Asset (though the Asset is also, you know, an Amazonian fishman); Zelda is a black woman in the early 60s; Giles is an elderly gay man; and Dimitri is a communist scientist undercover at the government facility. Unlike in Beauty and the Beast, which has such a dull and unappealing supporting cast (save for Lefou), this movie’s supporting cast all have deep stories to them that are intricately woven into their characterization and reflect some of the core themes of the film. It really is impressive when a character who is a proud communist is sympathetic, likable, and heroic; Dimitri is to this movie what Stronheim is to Battle Tendency, to put it in the most bizarre way possible. Every single actor does a fantastic job, and it’s pretty easy to believe any of these characters could be a person’s favorite of the film.

But what is a Beauty and the Beast story without a Gaston? I hated the Gaston in the Disney remake, as he was a bland, unappealing, and uncharismatic waste of a good actor. None of that is a problem here; Michael Shannon (who you may know best as General Zod from Man of Steel) is playing Strickland, and it is just as fantastic a performance as the rest of the cast. He’s arrogant, pompous, and honestly kind of disgusting – even before his fingers start rotting he pisses all over the bathroom floor because he doesn’t hold his dick when he pees, and then he doesn’t wash his hands, oh and he’s also racist, prejudiced, and harasses Elisa – but he’s also the poster child for idyllic 60s life. He has a home with a wife, two kids, he buys himself a fancy new car… unlike our heroes, Strickland’s life is picture perfect, like the families in old timey ads. This is a stark contrast to the less perfect lives our heroes lead, but it is an important part of the film, as it showcases that true humanity doesn’t simply come from fitting the mold of the what people think humanity is, it is who we are when no one is looking, who we are when we are in a bad spot and help others, who we are when we are truly selfless. Strickland is not selfless; in fact, he is an utter bastard. And yet for all the world he seems nothing but your normal perfect white 60s husband, while the heroes are a ragtag assembly of the sort of people who would be most shunned in that time period.

Of course, one of the most essential parts of this sort of story is the leads themselves; Beauty and the Beast had a lifeless CGI doll that drifted into the uncanny valley every other shot as the leading man, and Emma Watson giving one of the blandest, most lifeless performances this side of Jennifer Lawrence in an X-Men movie as our leading lady. Needless to say, they fucking blew. But here, HERE we have Elisa and the Asset, two very unconventional leads. You’d think a character being mute would be a huge hindrance, but as movies like The Little Mermaid show, you can be strong and interesting even without a voice, and Elisa is definitely both of those things. She is so expressive even when not using her sign language, you can always get a really good feel for what’s on her mind at any time, and actress Sally Hawkins just really nails it, especially in a ll her interactions with the Asset. And the Asset himself, played by Doug Jones, is perhaps the greatest leading man in romantic history. Leave it to a master like Doug Jones to truly sell you that this massive walking fish creature is the perfect romantic lead. Frankly, I’m a bit miffed he didn’t get an Oscar nomination for this performance, because despite not speaking and despite being an amphibious beast, he really delivers a compelling performance, above and beyond what you’d expect. And as you would expect of any del Toro monster, the Asset is gorgeously designed and really appealing to look at despite being a big fish creature. And guess what? Unlike the Beast, the Asset utilizes a lot of practical effects and isn’t just a nonstop CGI dummy the whole film!

It’s interesting to note that the actual romance and the infamous fishman sex do not occur earlier in the film; it happens more towards the midway/final third of the film. But this is a good thing, because it does give us proper buildup and leads to the attraction feeling natural rather than forced and rushed. You see the two build a connection with each other, these two outsiders no one else truly understands connecting with each other because, in their eyes, the other is not the flawed, broken being that others see them as. To each other, they are perfect. And this leads me into talking about the sex scene, and why we don’t see it: we don’t see it, because doing so would turn something beautiful into nothing but cheap titillation. Let me explain further: the only sex we see in the film is the awkward, bland, missionary position sex between Strickland and his shiny, idyllic housewife. During sex he shoves his bleeding fingers in his wife’s mouth as she moans in pleasure so he can shut her up and imagine Elisa. The sex is awkward, uncomfortable, and almost disturbing to watch. There’s no passion, no love, there’s nothing there. It’s basically a million other sex scenes in a million other movies. The love between Elisa and the Asset, on the other hand, is beautiful, passionate, intimate… we shouldn’t be allowed to see it. We shouldn’t reduce the love of these two, this beautiful romance, down to some sleazy masturbatory visual extravaganza. What they had together is something truly special, and I believe it was truly the right thing to leave their lovemaking to the imagination; it is not our place to intrude on and gawk at true love being consummated.

This is the Beauty and the Beast movie we all deserve. It’s The Creature from the Black Lagoon movie we deserve. This is easily del Toro’s best and strongest film, better than Hellboy II, better than Pan’s Labyrinth, better than Pacific Rim… and make no mistake, saying that is REALLY SAYING SOMETHING, as all those films are absolutely fantastic. I absolutely loved this movie, it really was everything I could have possibly hoped it would be and more, and there is absolutely no way I could live with myself if I didn’t recommend this wholeheartedly to everyone. Honestly, even if it’s not my favorite film of 2017, I would have put this as the #1 best movie of last year regardless, because from an objective standpoint, it IS the best movie of 2017. If you’re looking for a weirder sort of romance film, if you’re looking for a movie where the monster finds love, if you’re looking for a 2017 Beauty and the Beast movie that doesn’t absolutely suck ass, this right here is the movie for you.

#Review #movie review #the shape of water #guillermo del toro #the asset #doug jones #Sally hawkins #sci-fi #romance #beauty and the beast

82 notes · View notes

grumpyhedgehogs · 6 years

Text

Enough

Tahani Al-Jamil should not be in this supermarket parking lot. She really, really should not. But here she is anyway, staring vaguely around her in search of her car and determinedly refusing to acknowledge the blurriness in her vision. Someone is yelling at that poor boy who was handing out environmental flyers earlier. Her groceries (a bottle-okay, maybe three bottles- of the most expensive wine in the place, which was much too cheap all the same, so it’ll probably be godawful) bang dully against her hip. Tahani can feel them leaving smears of condensation on her skirts.

Something bumps into her impeccable, sky blue, designer heels. It’s a bottle of something called “Lonely Girl Margarita Mix.” Tahani thinks she might have a simply ravishing dress that same color.

“Hey, you jag, a little help here?” Tahani, still a little dazed, believes she should probably be at least a bit affronted, and turns to the clumsy stranger. She’s a short- tiny really, she reminds Tahani of that Disney fairy- blonde. Her clothes are truly atrocious, and do the woman no favors.

“Oh shit, not just a jag,” the woman says, face going strangely blank. “A really, really sexy jag.”

“Excuse me?” Tahani can feel the moisture in her eyes receding a bit. “What is a jag? I have the feeling you’re insulting me, ma’am.”

The other woman’s face goes red in less than a second. It doesn’t match her lipstick. “Ma’am? Wh-“

“Look out!”

“Duck!”

“Get out of the way!”

There’s a cacophonous jangling somewhere off to the side and behind her. Instinctually, Tahani lunges forward, tipping precariously on her heels, and collides roughly with the tiny woman. She and Tahani go crashing to the ground, and the jangling (shopping carts, what on Earth?) passes by. The woman bangs her head hard against the concrete, and even though she’s trying not to, Tahani can feel that her bodyweight is crushing the woman’s chest. (It’s a very nice chest, very nice, very soft, but Tahani should really not be thinking about that right now.)

Before either of them can move, another terrible noise, that of grating metal and screeching tires draws Tahani’s attention. A truck with a quite uncouth sign being hauled on it has smashed into the shopping carts. Well, then.

“Holy shit,” the blonde underneath Tahani wheezes, not even struggling to get up. “A really, really sexy jag just saved my life. You’re my hero, sexy skyscraper lady.”

This is how Tahani meets Eleanor Shellstrop.

It starts with the art. It’s small, she really shouldn’t make this big of a deal out of it. Really, she’s making a scene. Mother would be so disappointed.

But she wanted to remember that day in the garden with Mother. She loved that day. They were alone, walking the grounds. It was spring, and beautiful. Tahani loved the lavender blooms the most.

Mother was listening to her, nodding along as Tahani chatted about China’s growing GDP, the newest additions to the Louvre, and other small talk. And then the bird.

It was such a small creature, Tahani’s heart tightened instantly. She’d always had a soft spot for small things, like if she didn’t protect them they might break.

And it was so-normal. Not richly colored or feathered, not regal and proud. But it was still fine, still delicate, and so, so still. She wasn’t used to seeing something like a bird, something so active and joyful, be so still.

So she draws it. She starts as soon as they get home, because Mother hadn’t seemed to notice anything special about the bird when Tahani pointed it out to her, and if Tahani can just get this drawing right, maybe Mother will understand.

Mother doesn’t understand.

The woman who would turn out to be Eleanor Shellstrop is bleeding from the back of her head. Tahani lets her hands flutter over her fine blonde strands for a moment, feeling useless. Goodness Tahani, don’t you know you need to stop the bleeding? Head wounds are quite dangerous you know, says the Kamilah in her head. She grits her teeth so hard her jaw creaks and offers the woman her silk handkerchief.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” the fairy woman says, and then, “holy hell, I can’t believe you actually just saved me from being crushed by an erectile dysfunction ad. I owe you, man.”

Tahani is so numb, she can’t react to the abrupt change in nicknames. “I have to get you to a hospital. Head wounds are quite dangerous, you know.”

The blonde, now listing dangerously to the side and trying to dab the blood away from her hair ineffectually, leers. “You asking me out on a date now, skyscraper?”

Tahani doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead she puts a steadying hand on the woman’s elbow and leads her to her car.

She tries again and again, over the years. Straight A’s at boarding schools, fine art exhibits and modeling in Paris, charity drives and trips to undeveloped Africa. She tries and tries and keeps trying and it’s not enough, never never nevernevernevernevernevernever-

Eleanor Shellstrop is sent home from the emergency room with a mild concussion, the good kind of painkillers, and instructions not to sleep that night. The passenger seat in Tahani’s tasteful hybrid is stain with blood. She tries not to look at it, which means not looking at Eleanor Shellstrop, which means there’s an awkward silence from the hospital to Eleanor’s apartment. It’s in-a not very good part of town. She doesn’t like the look of the sagging roof or the peeling paint of the walls, but continues to say nothing.

Eleanor avoids eye contact as she unbuckles herself-Tahani thinks maybe she’s embarrassed by the address, or maybe just tired, or annoyed that Tahani cost her hundreds in medical bills or-

“Hey man, thanks for bringing me home.” Eleanor swipes her hair out of her face and gives Tahani a strained smile. “And for saving my life. Have I already thanked you for that?”

Tahani has answered this question five times now. “Yes, Eleanor, I think it might have come up.”

The (sweet) smile falters, and Tahani’s gut twists immediately. She isn’t trying to be mean. “Ok, well, thanks again, but you’re probably really tired, and I don’t have enough room in my bed for two, if you know what I mean, so I’ll just be going.” She makes to get out of the car, and Tahani is surprised to find her hand clamped on the other woman’s arm.

“Wait!” Too loud, too loud is such a small car, God, what has happened to you, Tahani? “Do you have someone to, you know…?”

“Make sure I don’t crack my head open again and die horribly?” Eleanor says grandly, but her eyes are darting down and to the left. “Nah, I’m fine on my own, thanks, really-“

“No no no,” Tahani has no idea what’s coming out of her mouth right now, “that won’t do at all. The doctor said you have to be kept awake and you won’t be able to do it yourself. I’ll come with you.”

“Look, I know you’re on like, a heroic streak or something, but I’m done being a damsel in distress for this week. Check back later, yeah?” Eleanor tries to pull away, annoyance evident in the curl of her lips, but Tahani can’t make her hand uncurl from the strange-parking-lot-fairy-woman’s arm.

“I’m not trying to condescend, Eleanor. I just want to make sure you’re alright. It’s my fault you got hurt in the first place.”

Eleanor snorts. “You got a martyr complex lady? I don’t even know your name.” But she isn’t trying to pull away anymore, and her hand holding her keys has loosened around them.

“I’m Tahani Al-Jamil,” Tahani smiles, for the first time in a long damn time. The muscles moving in her cheeks feel foreign. “Lovely to meet you. Now won’t you invite me in?”

1. It’s not like Kamilah is mean per se. She never hurts Tahani, doesn’t punch or kick or bite. No, that would be improper for a girl of her sophisticated twelve years. And Tahani, at fourteen, can’t say she’s being bullied by her little sister.

No, it’s just-well.

It’s sort of like Tahani just disappears as soon as Kamilah is in the room. She walks in and it’s like Mother has finally found something to distract her from Tahani’s dreadful conversation. She appears at the doorway and Father seems to need to discuss politics and art with her at once.

Tahani, while acknowledged is not-there. She’s alone, but not. She feels like the hallways are growing longer, the walls between herself and her family thickening, closing in, suffocating her in silence. She’s on an island.

But like she said, Kamilah is never mean. She’s just not ever very nice either.

Eleanor, it turns out, can be kind of an asshole. Not that Tahani will ever say that to her face of course. Or even out loud. She kind of feels bad even thinking it.

Nevertheless, it’s sometimes true. Eleanor took Tahani’s phone that night and plugged her number in under “Parking Lot Hottie,” and wouldn’t give it back for another hour, which she spent running down the battery playing Angry Birds. She even beat Tahani’s high score, the little twerp. It was dead by the time Tahani got it back in her clutches. She raved for half the night about something called “Jersey Shore,” complained when Tahani won’t let her drink anything but water, and eventually threw up on Tahani’s designer shoes. She’d actually seemed to feel pretty bad about that last one, seeing as how Tahani couldn’t shut her apologies up for hours. Eleanor finally fell asleep on the couch after Tahani concluded that she wouldn’t die in her sleep in the very early morning light. She’d mumbled something about Tahani taking the bed for all her hard work, but Tahani felt she didn’t want to see how this mess of a woman kept her bed. She’d left in the morning wondering vaguely what she’d gotten herself into with “Parking Lot Hottie” and feeling a strange lack of regret about it. (She didn’t even remember her forgotten wine and misery session planned for that night until three days later.)

Eleanor texts constantly too. Not even just a few times a day, but all. The. Time. Little things like “Just saw a kid on a skateboard eat it. LOL!”

“Do you think I could score Hamilton tickets if I went all out pretending I have cancer?”

“Ugh, work sucks, I know, she left me roses by the stairs, surprises let me know she cares!!!!”

(There’s a twinge in Tahani’s chest at that last one. Who is this mystery woman leaving Eleanor roses?)

She seems to have taken a shine to Tahani, which works out pretty well because there’s something about Eleanor. Something makes Tahani keep coming back to check up on her, make sure she’s alright. At first, she believes it might be residual guilt, seeing as how she caused the woman’s concussion, or maybe she herself is just lonely. She’s never really lived alone before, and now here she is in a forgiven country and her family-. Well. She thinks maybe Eleanor knows a little something about loneliness, anyway, because she never fails to let Tahani in, no matter how late it is.

But still, when it comes down to it, Tahani thinks maybe-well, maybe Eleanor is a good thing. She doesn’t seem to realize who Tahani is, anyway, and never really mentions things like Tahani’s expensive car and house and designer clothes further than to cat-call her when they meet. She doesn’t mention anything about the time when Tahani first shows up on her doorstep at midnight, doesn’t say anything about her running eyeliner or the imprint of her phone on her cheek or the way her dress isn’t hanging just so on her frame tonight. She lets Tahani in, takes her to the bathroom and stuffs a package of makeup removing towelettes in her hand (terribly cheap material, she worries for the fragile skin of Eleanor’s cheeks having to endure this every night) and puts on something called “The Real House Wives of Atlanta” when Tahani composes herself. It’s a horrid show, but Tahani doesn’t mind it as long as Eleanor keeps pressing up against her side like that.

“Do you need to, like, talk about it or something?” Tahani turns but Eleanor isn’t looking at her. She’s twisting her hands (long, delicate fingers, they’re painted the same sky blue Tahani had been wearing that first day) in her sleeves and staring resolutely at the T.V.

“Not really, thank you.” The words feel stiff in her mouth, and Tahani shuffles just a bit closer to Eleanor to take the bite out. Eleanor, for her part, leans in even more, warm and soft and comforting.

“Oh thank God, because honestly I’m terrible at this.”

“At what?”

Eleanor’s smile isn’t pleasant. “Being friends with people, I guess. Used to being on my own.”

“You’re not terrible at it, Eleanor,” Tahani objects softly. On the spur if the moment, she reaches over, slipping her hand between Eleanor’s worrying ones and laces their fingers. “You’re not terrible at all.”

Okay, maybe Eleanor isn’t an asshole, after all.

She packs her bags, calls the chauffer, and buys a plane ticket, the first one she sees. It’s to Austin, Texas.

Her parents don’t realize she’s gone until about a month later. Tahani declines the call. She can hardly see the phone through tears. She decides she needs some wine.

They forgot her fucking birthday. She’d called, specially, to invite them. They said they’d be there. They said they’d be there.

She really needs that wine.

“Is it too early in our friendship to ask favors?” Tahani blurts as soon as Eleanor opens her door. She shifts anxiously, feeling unsteady on her heels for the first time in years, and nearly pitches forward when Eleanor moves aside.

“Um, I guess it depends,” Eleanor says uncertainly, laying a hand on her arm. “Is this in any way illegal, having to do with dead bodies, or could get me put on a watch list?”

“No, of course not!”

“Darn.” She smiles up at Tahani, and not for the first time, Tahani catches herself tipping toward the blonde, pulled into orbit. She wonders how her lipstick tastes, if it’s chalky like her own or chemically flavored. Oh, maybe that tasteful natural stuff some companies are rolling out.

Eleanor has been speaking. She looks bemused. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Nice, Tahani.

“I asked what have you got for me, chief?”

“Oh. Oh! Yes! Well, you see, I’ve been trying to get back out there, see what’s going on in the charity world, maybe help funding for some hospitals, cancer research, you know, and I was talking to this nice young doctor, Wilson, I believe, you’ll love him, and he said that they might be able to set something up in a few months and so I-“

“Tahani, I love you, but you need to breathe.” Eleanor laughs, and misses the way Tahani feels like she’s been hit by a truck. “What’s the endgame?”

“I’m putting on a charity function at John’s Hopkins in the fall. Do you-would you like to come as my-with me?”

“Why Ms. Al-Jamil,” Eleanor smiles slyly, “I thought you’d never ask.”

She’s sent to a boarding school when she’s old enough (she doesn’t want to go, she wants to stay, here with Mother, please, she’s only eight). She tries her hardest, ignores the whispers and the stares she gets because she’s rich and new and she cries at night. She ignores that she hasn’t gotten a call from her parents by Christmas.

They forget her there. The Headmaster has to call, coughing awkwardly as his secretary offers Tahani a lukewarm mug of instant coffee. It’s all they have. The pantries are empty-they weren’t expecting to put up a student all winter.

Her father sounds put-upon and annoyed. He says she’ll have to wait till morning; the private jet is being used at the moment, his other daughter has a dance recital in front of some very important political figures. He says Tahani will understand.

The night of the ball, Tahani cruises to a stop in the parking lot of Eleanor’s apartment building and steadfastly refuses to wipe her clammy palms on her dress. (It’s a nice, sophisticated black number, off the shoulder and long.)

“It’s just a night out, Tahani. You’re just friends. You do this with friends.” She utters, ignoring the squeeze in her heart at the words. “You dolt, just go up and ring the bell.”

She goes up. She does not ring the bell.

Instead, Tahani rocks back and forth on her heels, chewing her lip and worrying about lipstick stains on her teeth to distract herself from the fact that her heart is beating much too fast and she can’t seem to raise her hand to the doorbell. Finally, lacking the grace and elegance she was raised to possess, Tahani bumps her elbow accidentally on the wall, and the bell goes off. Oh, hell.

The door swings open only seconds later, like Eleanor had been waiting nearby. It sends a flush of warmth into Tahani’s stomach, but that’s nothing compared to the heat in her face when she sees Eleanor.

She’s beautiful. Her dress is much shorter than Tahani’s, to her knees, and a dark forest green. It’s also very, um, form-fitting. There’s a large, beautiful necklace settled between her collarbones which are much too prominent in this dress, fragile and beautiful, and has Tahani mentioned that Eleanor looks quite beautiful tonight?

The green reminds Tahani of that Disney fairy again, for a moment, and her cheeks flame.

“Oh. Hello, Eleanor. How-“ She cuts off, coughing lightly. Her throat is too tight all of a sudden. “How are you? Don’t you look lovely tonight.”

“Same goes for you, stud!” Eleanor’s voice seems a bit too loud. “Look at that hot stuff.” She gestures to Tahani’s cleavage, grimaces and drops her hand. “Uh, sorry.”

“Oh no, no, I mean, thank you.”

Silence.

“Well!” Still too loud. “Should we get this party rolling, or what?”

Tahani sighs in relief. “Yes, please, I mean, of course, I mean, um…” Stupidly, she offers her arm.

Eleanor takes it and sighs in relief. Tahani absolutely does not pull her closer.

Tahani cannot take this anymore. Her own father, who not moments before berated her for raising over five million dollars, offered the same amount for a lunch date with his daughter who was not her. Like it was nothing. Like it was obvious. Like Tahani was nothing. He didn’t even look at her.

She can’t do this anymore. She’d done, tired, wrung out. She’s tried everything, all her life. Nothing pleases them, not like Kamilah can. She’s an afterthought to her own parents and God damn them, Tahani is better than that. She has to be. She has to be. She has to be something.

It’s silent in the car after the auction. Her parents sit across from her in the limo, her sister beside her (she can’t help herself, the flesh on the arm nearest Kamilah crawls). No one looks at her. She looks at no one. She doesn’t want to see their faces.

Eleanor is a terrible dancer. In the span of three hours, she’s stepped on the toes of no less than twelve doctors. She slinks back over to where Tahani has been watching (not giggling!) and slumps in her seat. Tahani determinedly does not look at the fantastic view of Eleanor’s cleavage that gives her.

“Cheer up, Eleanor, it’s not so bad!” She hands the other woman a flute of champagne. Eleanor gulps it down like a man dying of thirst. Tahani winces.

“It is too. All these hot, rich people are watching me make a fool out of myself. They probably think I’m some loser.”

Tahani knows from experience that she needs to stop this train before it derails any further. Eleanor has this thing with inferiority (not that Tahani sees what she has to worry about-she’s by far the most interesting person here).

“They aren’t. No one thinks you’re a loser.” She’s shaking but the champagne seems to have loosen her tongue. “I don’t think you’re a loser. I think you’re the best person here.”

Eleanor snorts inelegantly and side-eyes her. “How much have you had to drink, beautiful?”

“I’m serious.” Tahani turns to her fully, on the edge of her seat. “You’re the only real person here, you know? And you’re beautiful too, Eleanor.”

Eleanor blinks, stares, blushes. She adverts her eyes. Tahani feels a smile coming on. Adorable.

“Geez, charming, buy a girl dinner first.”

“I did. I bought everyone here’s dinner.”

“Oh shut up,” Eleanor’s grinning now. “Well if I’m so great, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, skyscraper?”

Tahani thinks for only a moment before she’s on her feet, a hand extended. “May I have this dance?”

Eleanor opens her mouth and closes it, doing her best impression of a fish. She takes Tahani’s hand silently. With confidence and a giddiness that threatens to overwhelm, Tahani leads them both out onto the floor, clearing a path with a dazzling smile. The patrons stare a bit before going back to their food and conversation. No doubt word would get back to her family that their eldest was now interested in women by the end of the night.

But Tahani doesn’t care about that or the stares as she swivels around to take Eleanor into her arms. She guides Eleanor’s hand to her own shoulder, but Eleanor’s other hand needs no help finding hers and lacing their fingers (not traditional, but what about this is?). She wraps her own arm securely around Eleanor’s waist, hand spread high on the shorter woman’s back. Can’t be too indecent now. They begin to move slowly in a circle, Tahani’s skirts brushing Eleanor’s legs. She can feel the heat of her skin through the fabric. It makes Tahani’s mouth go dry.

Oh dear.

Eleanor does step on her feet. Tahani doesn’t react. At least she’s not wearing terribly pointed heels.

Eleanor feels so small in her arms. She’s got at least a foot of height on the blonde, and her heels aren’t helping the situation, low as they are. But the awkward height difference is made up for when Eleanor tentatively rests her head on Tahani’s shoulder. The weight is reassuring.

Tahani can see those fragile collarbones again. She feels those elegant fingers in between her own, lets the blonde hair tickle at her nose as she drops her head to press her cheek against Eleanor’s scalp. She realizes she’s marveling, but she can’t seem to bring herself to care. Eleanor is something small and soft, (maybe with a hard shell, but Tahani knows better than to accept that from Eleanor) something comforting. She reminds Tahani, in that moment (and others, from then on) of that bird she’d seen in the garden that day with Mother. Tiny and average, but so beautiful amidst the extraordinary surroundings. Entirely different. She feels that same urge to protect the delicate woman in her arms that she felt for that bird. Like if she just kept Eleanor in her arms, everything would be okay.

When Eleanor raises her head, Tahani doesn’t move back and they end up staring into each other’s eyes. It’s really too unfair that Eleanor has got disarming eyes in addition to her-everything else, really.

She kisses her before Eleanor can break the nebulous silence they’d fallen into. Her lipstick doesn’t taste much of anything, actually, but Eleanor tastes of champagne and shrimp for some reason, and laughter, too, when she giggles into Tahani’s mouth.

They break apart, and Tahani can’t stop smiling.

Tahani and Kamilah stop talking. Or maybe they never really started, she can’t honestly tell at some point. She tries but she can’t recall an exact time Kamilah has ever spoken directly to her, when it’s not to correct her on some political point or definition or other.

Tahani can’t think of a time her sister has even looked her in the eye. For something so small, it amazes Tahani how dehumanized she feels by it.

But again, Kamilah never says anything insulting to her, never lashes out or yells or cries to their parents because of her. She’s just better than that. (The silence is worse than screams, sometimes.)

She’s better than Tahani. And they (and their parents) both know it.

She hasn’t spoken to her parents in months. Even Eleanor, who Tahani knows understands what it’s like to have more than a little disappointment in your own parents, is starting to ask her about calling them. On the one hand, it’s heartwarming that Eleanor has changed so much that she cares deeply enough to bug her about this, but on the other hand, it’s annoying.

“C’mon, skyscraper, it’s just one ten minute conversation. Break the ice, let them know you’re alive, rub your continued and thriving existence in their faces. Easy!”

“It’s not that easy, Eleanor,” she sighs over breakfast. “I’ve been out of the public eye for so long, it’s just a matter of time when I call them before they ask me to hold one charity ball or another and I just- can’t.”

Eleanor shuffles over to her, wrapping her arms around Tahani’s shoulders and dropping her chin on her head. Like this, with Tahani sitting and Eleanor standing, they’re almost the same height. Tahani will not admit that she might abandon her ramrod sitting technique to sink into Eleanor’s soft skin for a moment.

“Your birthday’s still got you fucked up, huh?” Oh Eleanor, always the blunt approach.

“They didn’t even show up.” Tahani’s voice is smaller than she thought it’d be. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. “I’m sorry, I’m making a scene.”

“Tahani, there’s no one else here. Make a scene if you want to.” Eleanor slides into the seat adjacent to hers, and Tahani’s shoulders feel colder for her absence. “And BT-dubs, this ain’t a scene, mister. A scene has to at least involve tears, screaming and/or items being thrown. This isn’t even a tantrum. I, personally, would be having what is termed a meltdown if my parents were even half-good and still missed my humongous birthday bash that Beyoncé attended.”

Tahani’s cheeks heat and she ducks her head. “She only showed her face before going home, really.”

“Um, sorry, all I heard was that you and Beyoncé were in the same room. Honestly, if I saw you two standing together, I think my heart might give out. Too much attractive in the same vicinity, know what I’m sayin?”

Tahani laughs, and neglects to call her parents for one more day.

The will is the last time Tahani sees her sister. Lead lines her stomach, and she can barely stop herself from checking her make-up repeatedly after reapplying it after the funeral. Waterproof eyeliner my ass, says the Eleanor in her head, and even with the pit swallowing her heart, with the fog in her brain and her silent, judgmental sister at her elbow, Tahani fights down a giggle.

She’s trying not to react, really she is, but the familiar ache is still there when the lawyer reads out all that was left for Kamilah. It worsens when she glances at her sister and sees those lips twisted up into that satisfied smile. She can’t resist one last jab.

“And what about their second favorite daughter?”

And then, the final blow-they spelled her name wrong. The name they picked, the name on her birth certificate, the name she’s lived with for over two decades now. God damn them.

She knows what Eleanor would say. Eleanor would throw caution to the wind, would yell and scream and throw things. She’d make herself known in ways Tahani has never and will never be able to, she’d leave here experiencing at least some small bit of catharsis.

Tahani just puts her cardigan on inside out and makes a fool of herself.

Eleanor is quiet when Tahani gets back. She helps her out of her cardigan, doesn’t comment on the fact it’s on the wrong way round, and puts it in the closet. (It’d taken a long time after she’d moved in for Eleanor to realize the floor didn’t count as available closet space.) When Tahani slouches onto the couch, Eleanor bustles into the kitchen. Tahani can hear her rummaging in the pantry, then running water, then setting something on the stove. She’s thankful the blonde is taking her time. She doesn’t think she can talk at the moment.

When she returns, Eleanor’s got a steaming mug in hand. It’s got a disgruntled looking cat on it with the words “This Is My Happy Face.” It’s Eleanor’s.

“Tea,” Eleanor says softly, prodding Tahani in the shoulder with her foot until she sits up. “Hopefully I didn’t burn it this time.”

“Th-“ Tahani’s voice comes out like gravel. She clears her throat. It’s too tight. “Thank you.”

“Hush, gorgeous,” Eleanor says, slipping onto the couch beside her and reaching up to card her fingers through the hair pooling over Tahani’s shoulder. “Just drink it. Give yourself some time. God knows you need it.”

“I didn’t talk to them after my birthday.”

“I know.”

“It’s been almost a year.”

“I know.”

“I was angry at them when they died.”

“I know.”

Tahani bursts into tears. Years ago, Eleanor would have rushed out of the room screaming. Now she takes the mug and sets it on the coffee table before reeling Tahini in. She doesn’t seem to mind the tears soaking into the skin of her neck, her hair. “Let it go, skyscraper. I got you.”

“Why didn’t they love me, El-El-“ She hiccups, sobs. “I tr-tr-tried so h-h-h-hard.”

“Hey,” Eleanor takes her head in her hands and lifts Tahani’s eyes to hers. “I know, okay? Parents can be pretty shitty. Yours were. Mine were. But it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault okay? You are smart, and caring and kind, and that’s not to mention you’ve got a rockin’ bod’, and anyone who makes you feel any less than you deserve can catch these fists, got that? No one rags on my girl.”

Tahani is surprised in a laugh. With her nose congested it sounds disgusting. Eleanor smiles and pulls her head back to her own chest. “So you take all the time you need, okay? ‘Cuz I know you’ve been fighting this for a long-ass time. It’s hard to give up on them. Maybe you never will. But you gotta know that you did nothing wrong, okay? You are enough. You were always and will always be enough. The way you were treated isn’t on you. It’s on them. You’re the best thing, like, ever. Best thing that happened to me was you tackling me in a parking lot, okay?”

She goes on like that, holding Tahani on the uncomfortable, fashionable couch Tahani never should have convinced Eleanor to buy and letting her soak Eleanor with all the tears in her body.

After a long time, Tahani turns her head to look up at the blonde. “I think I got snot on your hoodie.”

Eleanor smiles down at her. “It’s cool, bro. A little bodily fluid ain’t gonna send me running.”

Tahani tightens her arms around Eleanor and sighs. “You’re the best thing in my life too, you know.”

“Yeah?”

Tahani hates the tentativeness that always lingers in Eleanor’s voice. “Yes. I love you.”

The (small, delicate, forever sky blue painted) fingers in her hair still, curl and uncurl, and move on. “Cool beans. I mean, uh- shit. I love you too, Tahani.”

Tahani smiles. It doesn’t feel so strange in her face anymore.

#Here it is!!!!#tahani al jamil #eleanor shellstrop #eleanor x tahani #tahani x eleanor #my writing

75 notes · View notes

readerdye · 7 years

Text

@farseersfool tagged me in this wonderful questionnaire! Thank you so much!

RULES: Answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. (I can’t tag anyone today, but please do this if you’re interested!)

Long post after the cut

1. coke or pepsi: After that commercial the other day, Coke.

2. disney or dreamworks: Dreamworks, I think. They have How to Train Your Dragon and Kung Fu Panda and Shrek! But if Disney keeps creating stuff like Moana, I might have to switch.

3. coffee or tea: Coffee, probably, but I can’t drink it. If I do, I’m wired and bouncy and awful. So I’m trying to switch over to tea.

4. books or movies: Definitely, definitely books. I can manage movies sometimes...but only if I can fidget and talk straight through it. Even TV shows are hard to sit through for me.

5. windows or mac: Windows, because I can play more games.

6. dc or marvel: Okay, so the Captain-America-Nazi thing was ATROCIOUS. But Marvel has those tiny, cute franchises like Patsy Walker AKA Hellcat and Squirrel Girl and nonviolent superheroes, and I like that trend. So I’ll go with Marvel, provided I don’t read any of the big-names anymore.

7. xbox or playstation: PlayStation for life. (Sadly, though, I don’t have a PS4 and am therefore behind the times. RIP Horizon Zero Dawn)

8. dragon age or mass effect: Dragon Age, definitely. I haven’t gotten around to playing Mass Effect.

9. night owl or early riser: Being a night owl is the Worst Possible Thing for a depressed kiddo to be, and yet. I’m trying to switch to early bird, but it’s not working for me.

10. cards or chess: Cards, definitely. There’s a lot more variety in what you can play, and I just like the feeling of shuffling.

11. chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla. Not a huge chocolate fan.

12. vans or converse: Ahahahahahaha you think I buy name-brand shoes. That’s hilarious. I’ve been wearing the life out of the same pair of sneakers for two years, and I don’t even know what brand they are. Payless brand.

13. lavellan, trevelyan, cadash, or adaar: Oooh. I feel like Lavellan is more central to the plot and can interact more meaningfully with Inquisition’s setting, but I really, really loved playing an Adaar.

14. fluff or angst: Fluff fluff fluff. Too much stress and I have to put the book down and step outside to breathe.

15. beach or forest: Beach, and now I’m landlocked. (sigh)

16. dogs or cats: Cats. Dogs are cute, but they don’t know when to leave you alone. Cats get personal space and kind of live their own lives.

17. clear skies or rain: I loved the torrential downpours back in Houston, but now that I’m in Colorado, clear skies are SO nice. Not too warm, perfect for relaxing outside (I say from my computer chair).

18. cooking or eating out: I order way too much take-out, I’ll admit that. I really love and miss cooking, but it’s hard to muster the energy.

19. spicy food or mild food: Spicy! Well, it depends on the type. If you’re just chopping up 85 jalapenos for fun, then no thank you, but an Indian curry will get me every time.

20. halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: Solstice/Yule/Christmas is more family-and-friends-ish, so I like it a little better. I’m not a very spooky person.

21. would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: I’m guessing this is excluding the possibility of wearing jackets or short sleeves to correct for temperature, right? Eesh. I’m rarely ever too hot, so I guess too cold, since at least I’m used to that.

22. if you could have a superpower, what would it be: Shapeshifting yes please! I’m with you, Rowan.

23. animation or live action: Animation. It’s just fun! And the art choices are so interesting to me (I can’t draw a stick figure, but I like seeing other people who can).

24. paragon or renegade: Haven’t played Mass Effect, but my understanding is that Paragon is kinda the lawful good choice and Renegade is more chaotic, right? I’m sadly lawful good. So paragon. (And I’ve also heard that renegade is racist, so no thank you. Although I’ve also heard that renegade is passionate about defending their friends...)

25. baths or showers: Baths are my relaxing “calm down everything’s okay” treat to myself.

26. team cap or team ironman: Um...as far as Superhero Rules go, I really loved Ta-Nahisi Coates’ article about this: Iron Man is the logical choice. Right? You can’t have superheroes running around exempt to all rules. But Cap is the heart-choice, because if you knew a rule would hurt your best friend in all the world, and you didn’t feel he deserved that punishment, you’d fight. In my head, Iron Man, because giving superheroes free reign is a recipe for disaster. BUT I think situations have changed: for better or worse, Marvel is very America-centric. So the one registering the mutants would probably be our president. Which would be Trump. So now I’m Team Cap. (Don’t get me wrong. Both superheroes are intolerable.)

27. fantasy or sci-fi: Fantasy...but it’s a tough call! I love my cyborg-futuristic-alternate-planet-space-operas SO much that I might have to switch that answer soon. Some really cool things have been happening in sci-fi lately.

28. do you have three or four favourite quotes? if so what are they: “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.” - Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”

"If the ocean can calm itself so can you. We are both salt water mixed with air.” - Nayyirah Waheed, “Meditation”

29. youtube or netflix: Netflix. There’s more of a quality guarantee.

30. harry potter or percy jackson: Harry Potter. I really love the diversity in Percy Jackson, but I hit them too late to appreciate the jokey style of humor.

31. when you feel accomplished: When I write and everything flies around and connects inside my head. It hasn’t happened for a long time.

32. star wars or star trek: I’ve been told I’d like Star Trek more, especially old-school philosophical Trek, but I don’t know enough about it to say.

33. paperback books or hardback books: Paperbacks are my preference, but I get so many hardbacks from the library that my preference is switching.

34. horror or rom-com: They’re both actually really tense (interpersonal conflict stresses me out!). But maybe rom-com, since I can sleep afterwards.

35. to live in a world without literature or music: I get to pick? I’m actually going to go with a world without literature, because then we could all return to oral storytelling and ballads, and because if I couldn’t hum then I’d never do the dishes.

36. pastel colours or dark colours: Dark, but actual colors: not just black, but maroon and plum and navy blue and the like.

37. tv shows or movies: Movies...? TV shows are doing such marvelous and interesting things, but I never, ever finish them, because I can’t binge-watch to save my life and I always find something else that needs doing.

38. city or countryside: I grew up visiting my grandfather’s land, and I loved getting up early in the morning when the sky was all misty and the world was quiet. Then I moved to a Tiny Country Town and realized exactly how wonderful-but-awful that kind of place could be. I’m glad my still-there friends are turning it into a better place, but now I prefer the city.

39. if any other zodiac sign could describe you, what would it be: I remember everyone posted the What Zodiac Thingamajig are You lists for a while, and Virgo was always something like “glaring over your spectacles,” and Pisces was “You’re a nice fluffy bunny who daydreams too much and flakes out and sometimes cries because flowers can’t sneeze.” So Pisces, I guess?

40. if you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be: ahahaha, you think I listen to albums.

41. cinema or theatre: Theatre! Much more interactive, especially tiny theaters where the performers are right near you. I can’t focus on movies (the screen maybe?), but I just end up staring at theater slack-jawed.

42. if you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be: So many of my favorite characters have such difficult lives.

43. smiling or smirking: Smiling? I can’t really smirk.

44. are you an ‘all or nothing’ type or are you more consistent: All or nothing. I’m trying to develop consistency.

45. playlists or your whole library on shuffle: Whole library on shuffle! My mom swears by playlists, but I want to always be surprised.

46. travelling or staying at home: I like traveling. Really truly honestly: I’m used to uncomfortable sleeping situations, and for some reason all of my road trips have ended up being bizarrely in-depth and soul-searching. Plus I like seeing new places.

47. books or fanfiction: Books, but I still love fanfiction and applaud those who write it!

48. If you could live in a fantasy world, what world would it be: One of those integrated-fantasy worlds, where it’s just like ours only fey creatures and divergent multicultural myths have been added in. I’d really love to wait behind a centaur at Starbucks.

49. your favorite cartoon: Steven Universe, but I just discovered Phineas and Ferb and it’s delightful.

50. name the weirdest five songs on your itunes, current or past: Let’s see. “The Pirate Ninjas from Dino Island” was egregious. Mrs. Burch’s science songs (please tell me someone remembers). Some bagpipe cacophony. Everyone says “No Blue Thing” was weird but it was my favorite for YEARS. And there’s this song from Amelie that starts with aysynchronous piano notes, tosses in a bunch of snapping and whistling, ties in accordion music, and ends on a music box. I don’t remember the title, but that one was odd.

51. a favorite song that starts with the same letter as your name: Last name work? “By Yon Bonnie Banks.”

52. the last inanimate object you named: my House Squid! Its name is Herman.

Thank you for this again! I won’t tag anyone this time...I’m still too sporadic on Tumblr, so whoever wants can do it. But thank you again!

#reader writes #long post #thank you!

2 notes · View notes

popmeditation · 4 years

Text

Stampede: How to Help Someone With Depression

Mental illness can often look like the stampede in the Lion King. To the person observing, it looks like watching poor helpless Simba hang on to a tree and fight for his life. As loving, caring humans, of course, everyone wants to play the role of Mufasa and risk their life for the one they love. Unfortunately, a lot of things that someone might do out of love can result in both parties being run over.

This is not to say that there is nothing you can do. There are specific things that my mom did that helped me a lot and there other things that people did that exacerbated the situation. This article will take a look at both, starting with the things that she did that really made a positive impact on me.

Freedom. She allowed me to quit. One of the most important ways my mom helped me was that she told me to quit soccer my freshman year. I didn’t listen until my sophomore year, but the fact that she had given me permission made a huge difference. I think that decision to quit saved my life, and I would not have made it without her telling me I could. She even was going to let me take a year off from college if that was what I needed. We always see the potential in the ones we love and want to push them to achieve their greatness but when it came to my depression, the best thing my mom said was “your health is more important”.

Persistence. Honestly, my mom never knew what to say about my mental health and it didn’t matter. I grew up in a house where therapy and mental illness carried a huge stigma. However, despite not knowing the “right words”, when I needed her, my mom dropped all her responsibilities and put me first. She didn’t always get it right, and we sometimes fought, but she never gave up. She always kept trying.

Support. When I said I wanted to learn meditation, she signed up for the course. When I said I needed a support group, she went with me to meetings. When I said I needed to go to India, she said no, and then came back around and said yes. She drove me around until I found a yoga studio that was the right fit for my goals and personality, and she and helped edit atrocious papers the night before they were due to help me keep my head above water. She always gave me a hand with the things I wanted to do.

Love. She always let me know that she truly had unconditional love for me. Whether it be a card in the mail, our daily phone calls, or a trip to Disney World after an excruciating freshman year, my mom always tried to brighten my day. She never asked if it helped or expected a thank you. She just gave all her love on a regular basis. When I talk about how my mom called me as I was walking towards suicide, it wasn’t chance (although maybe fate). I called my mom every day, and if I didn’t she always called me. She wasn’t calling to check and see if I was mentally stable, she was calling because that’s just the kind of relationship we had.

Now that we took a look at things that helped me the most while I was suffering from depression, we can also look at things from the other side. While most of the time the following things come from a place of love, they can actually make things worse or waste lots of time and energy. Here are things my mom and others did that have never worked for me.

Nag me. When people nag me about the things I should be doing, it makes me not want to do anything. I rarely took the suggestions when my mom suggested them. People heal and grow in their own time. If you suggest something and I did it, great. It was the right time. If I didn’t, great. It was the wrong time. I now have a list of things I do that help me, but they came on my terms. When I was ready, I told her I wanted to meditate. When I was ready, I told her I needed therapy. When I was ready, I told her, again and again, I needed to go to India. It was always on my time that change was made in my life.

Baby Me. It can be scary to let someone with depression choose their own life. It’s tempting to want to control it in order to improve it for them. My mom never told me I couldn’t do anything. When I wanted to quit something she told me okay but told me that there was no doubt that I could do it if I wanted to. She let me go to Ecuador even though it was dangerous and far away. She let me find my own independence and my own growth.

Blame me. A lot of people have told me that my depression is my fault. It makes me shut down immediately. Even though these words are normally coming from a place of love, from someone wanting me to put me into a different emotional state, it always makes the situation hurt worse. I fight my own judgment and blame, I don’t want to be reminded. My mom never told me my feelings were my fault. She never told me that I wasn’t depressed. She didn’t know I was depressed for a long time. It was my dad who ironically saw it first in high school. But when she found out, she accepted it. She might not have known it was true but she didn’t deny my feelings.

It’s important to note that my mom did not get it right a lot of the time. She often pushed me too hard and I always had the feeling that I was not meeting her expectations. She didn’t get her own mental health under control and in many ways, we both became wrapped up in each other's stampedes. The thing is, you don’t have to get it right, you just have to try. You are not the only person in your loved one’s life. You are not their only resource. Do what you can and leave the rest up to your Higher Power.

Now in my life, it is Mikel who deals with my mental illness on a daily basis. I know it takes a toll on him. He wants to be a fixer, and it is so hard for him to just be with me without blaming himself for what is a disease. He has his own outlets like music and his own meditation practice as well as his own struggles. What helps me the most this past year is having been visible to his own fight. He has his own traumas that he deals with; everyone has their own things.

On a daily basis, I am inspired by watching him fight his own battles. Watching him fight food addiction, watching him fight for dreams, watching him rebuild his trust, and watching him keep on growing his own sense of self makes me feel like I am not alone. I can do it too. We may not have the same problems but we are both fighting. I don’t need someone to fight for me, but it is wonderful to have someone fighting next to me. We each have our own swords and our own nemesis but we are both fighting for this beautiful thing called life.

Watching him conquer his demons is one of the best ways I have been helped. The stampede is capable of running over everything in its way. I don’t need saving, I need to watch you save yourself.

#mental illness #depression #meditation #depression help

0 notes

jessicakehoe · 5 years

Text

Everything That Upset the Internet This Week

What is the web-o-sphere angry about this week? A former Disney star who shared explicit photos on Twitter, a blogger whose secret proposal was more #spon than spontaneous and a pop star who insists “shade never made anybody less gay.” Here’s everything you need to know:

Whoopi Goldberg Shames Bella Thorne For Sharing Nude Photos

THE STORY: Last weekend, 21-year-old former Disney star Bella Thorne shared a series of explicit images of herself on Twitter, explaining that “for the last 24 hours I have been threatened with my own nudes.” Thorne opted to post the photos herself, because “it’s MY DECISION NOW U DON’T GET TO TAKE YET ANOTHER THING FROM ME. I can sleep tonight better knowing I took my power back.”

On Monday morning’s episode of The View, Whoopi Goldberg expressed her frustration with the story. “If you’re famous, I don’t care how old you are. You don’t take nude pictures of yourself,” she asserted. “Once you take that picture it goes into the cloud and it’s available to any hacker who wants it, and if you don’t know that in 2019 that this is an issue, I’m sorry. You don’t get to do that.”

THE REACTION:

Do you know I used to respect #whoopiegoldberg but after what she said about @bellathorne, I can’t stand her! She’s supposed to uplift and support her gender! God forbid anyone leaks private photos of you whoopie! You’ll get no sympathy here! #WhoopiGoldbergCanceled

— Lollipop🍭 (@Strawbsoda1987) June 20, 2019

Revenge porn IS ILLEGAL Bella Thorne is the victim OF A CRIME Those who argue against this are reproducing the idea of women not having autonomy over their bodies and sexualities Point the finger at the MAN who did this AND Whoopi Goldberg for publicly forgiving a crime https://t.co/wWQD1LJz71

— peach (@unorignel) June 20, 2019

I’m so frustrated and upset over @bellathorne ‘s situation. The fact that whoopi thought it was OKAY to BLAME BELLA for someone STEALING and HACKING her intimate photos is ATROCIOUS. How about teaching EVERYONE how to RESPECT others’ privacy and acknowledging the fact that

— Alexis (@alexisgeorgia_) June 19, 2019

RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE RAGE: Thorne isn’t the first female celebrity to have her intimate images hacked, and Goldberg won’t be the last female celebrity to shame other women for taking nude photos. This is a complicated conversation about the consequences of fame, the violation of women’s bodies and the death of privacy in the age of the internet.

But let’s be clear: telling a woman that she’s asking to be hacked when she takes nudes photos is a little bit like telling a woman that she’s asking to be groped when she wears a short skirt. Or, it’s like telling a store clerk they should expect to be robbed when they keep cash in their till. In these situations, there are victims and perpetrators. Let’s focus on catching, shaming and punishing the bad guys.

Influencer Shares Her Branded Engagement on Instagram

THE STORY: Marissa Fuchs is a fashion and lifestyle influencer with nearly 200k followers on Instagram, where she goes by @fashionambitionist. She’s also the Director of Brand Partnerships & Sales at Gwenyth Paltrow’s company, Goop.

Earlier this week, she shared a series of Instagram stories from the Goop office, where her boyfriend, Gabriel Grossman, surprised her with a proposal-esque video. “I have the most important question of my life to ask you,” he says in the pre-filmed clip, where he notes that traditional wedding’s “weren’t really their style” and that he wanted to create an experience that she could “capture for the ‘gram.”

The authenticity of the grand gesture—which was filled with OTT surprises and took Fuchs to multiple locations over four days—was questioned by The Atlantic journalist, Taylor Lorenz, who tweeted a thread revealing that the “surprise wedding” was pitched to brands before it even began.

“I got the deck yesterday. Here’s the full rundown,” she begins, before posting images of the pitch that was sent to brands.

“This summer, Marissa of @FashionAmbitionist will be pulled into a surprise adventure created by the center of her life, Gabriel,” one of the marketing slides reads. “He will remotely ask her to take an unexpected and sentimental journey to him, a journey that will encompass many familiar stops along the way that offer their own unique gifts.”

“We’re pleased to offer your brand the opportunity to align with this momentous occasion and the beautiful cities she will be visiting along the way.”

THE REACTION:

Some things shouldn’t be branded and tbh an influencer like this goes on my never list – if you’re willing to sell your engagement you’re willing to sell anything and that’s not the kind of content creator I want to work with. Also, ick, this is icky. https://t.co/3wBm5HRBJJ

— Shannon Hunter (@Shananigans) June 21, 2019

God this would make you vomit – influencer 'marketing' at its worst and there are a lot of bad examples to compete with. https://t.co/7cO7DHfrhZ

— Kevin Twomey (@KevinDTwomey) June 21, 2019

I got the influencer engagement proposal sponsorship deck and all I can say is that every day we stray further and further from God’s light.

— nyoldman (@NYDoorman) June 20, 2019

RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE RAGE: In the time the story was going viral, Grossman insisted that Fuchs wasn’t involved in pitching the proposal to brands and said that the couple received no direct payment for the Instagram stories posted throughout the surprise.

Advertising exec Bryan Pedersen, however, told The Atlantic: “Either her fiancé has been intimately involved in every single aspect of her business and influencer marketing career and knows every detail of her influencer partnerships, or she has had some input into that pitch deck. There’s no way a friend or potential fiancé would know how to put together a pitch deck with that detail.”

I’m not quite sure I buy into that. Fuchs’ close friend, Elicia Blaine Evans—who at one point took control of Fuchs’s phone and posted an Instagram story to deny rumours that the surprise was a setup—was formerly on the social media teams at Michael Kors and Audi. She played a major role in plotting the proposal, and she likely knows how to put together a savvy social media marketing deck.

Plus, having watched each of the 100+ Instagram stories posted to Fuchs’ account, I truly doubt she knew what was going on. You don’t sign yourself up to cry like that on camera. She’s either entirely shocked, or the next Meryl Streep.

Which makes this entire story even stranger: Grossman was shopping his future fiance around to brands, promising hashtags and mentions on her Instagram stories. How romantic!

Taylor Swift Releases “You Need to Calm Down”

THE STORY: In the middle of Pride Month, Taylor Swift released “You Need to Calm Down,” a self-professed LGBTQ anthem. The song takes on homophobia with lyrics like: “Sunshine on the street at the parade / But you would rather be in the dark ages;” “Shade never made anybody less gay;” and “Why are you mad? When you could be GLAAD?”

The video includes a jam-packed cast of queer celebrities, including Ellen DeGeneres, Laverne Cox, Jesse Tyler Ferguson and all five Queer Eye guys. It closes with a call to sign a petition in favour of the Equality Act, which would ban discrimination based on sexual orientation and identity.

THE REACTION:

Lest we forget when Taylor Swift gladly sang “tell your friends I’m crazy, I’ll tell mine that you’re gay” about an ex-lover who broke up with her as she drops this absolute pander of a single today.

— Kali (@Kalitastic) June 14, 2019

Taylor Swift profited off of conservative dollars when she was America’s conservative sweetheart, and said nothing, and now wants to act as if she’s been some outspoken LGBTQ activist and profit off of queerbaiting. Please tell me y’all don’t buy it 🙄

— mobara (@SarahMobara) June 17, 2019

all anyone is saying is that taylor swifts new single is a PRIME example of queerbaiting. she used pride month to her advantage to get people to think she made a “gay anthem” to make her more money while also contributing nothing to the lgbt community.

— lily 🌸 (@esnyuh) June 14, 2019

RIGHTEOUSNESS OF THE RAGE: Swift is one of the biggest pop stars on the planet, she doesn’t need money. She is, however, somewhat desperate to win back public support. Throughout the 2016 election, Swift was heavily criticized for remaining silent on the topic of politics. In an essay for Elle Magazine earlier this year, she vowed to be more politically active and speak out against “disgusting rhetoric.” This song seems to be a part of that promise.

Though it’s entirely fair to call out Swift’s actions for being too little, too late. “Eight years after Lady Gaga’s ‘Born This Way,’ which came from an artist who was out as a bisexual woman at a time when the gay rights movement had far less mainstream traction than it does now,” Christina Cauterucci writes for Slate, ““You Need to Calm Down” looks even more pathetic.”

The post Everything That Upset the Internet This Week appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

Everything That Upset the Internet This Week published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

0 notes