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#you can fit so many dog metaphors into this bad boy

meyerlansky · 10 days

Note

my take on gale mota, if this helps: so obvs he's generally holds back and is very careful socially, tending towards watching rather than participating. i also think he's very reactive, inasmuch as he gives people what "fits" their personality. egan's an annoying endearing brat so he gets the longsuffering treatment. curt's longsuffering, so he gets gale's version of a brat. neither is a /lie/, persay, but both are an obfuscation of the whole picture. he deliberately casually makes himself 1/

...hard to know, which is also shown in his general stoic snarky shtick. again, it's not a lie, it's just not /everything/. exactly what part of himself he's trying to hide is up to interpretation (big gay boner for his buddies, anyone?) but i personally think he's trying very hard to hide just how fucking mean he can be. ironically i think this is exactly why bucky is drawn to him (because maybe he'll smack him around a little) who said that 2/2

yessssssss all of this is so good and i agree with nearly all of it: gale is definitely very cautious, very withholding, and very reactive, and i also definitely see a deep capacity for viciousness and anger and meanness as one of the vices he's decided Cannot Under Any Circumstances Be Expressed, Lest He Be Too Like His Father. i think my only major difference in read is i can't see gale bratting, at least not early on; not only does bucky have the brat market CORNERED, but i think gale wants to be good. he doesn't want to have those vices, he doesn't want to lash out when he's angry, he doesn't want to be a dog off the leash. what he needs is a firm hand at the end of the leash, who'll tell him when he's being a good boy.

i think he also wants that hand to hold him back from the anger and the meanness, but this is where i think curt becomes an interesting choice for being that firm hand (vs, say, bucky, who wants to drag gale so far off-leash that they both forget what the concept of leashes are, and i'm losing control of this dog metaphor but you get what I'm saying). because i think curt is happy to put gale where he belongs when it's necessary—it takes barely a touch to his chest and, what, fifteen words to make gale back down in the RAF scene, when gale FORCED bucky back down into his seat to keep him from taking the hit? seriously, curt doms that boy with so light a touch i don't think gale even knows it's THERE—but i also think that curt sees that vicious streak in gale and likes it. it just needs pointing in the right direction. so i think it'd be good for gale in that he can bring curt as many apples as he can get his hands on and get told he's a good boy for it, and curt valuing that protective streak gale seems to lump down into Anger, Which Is Always Bad means gale would get more space to have those feelings in productive ways. i.e. circling the fight like a guard dog to keep the RAF guys from taking any potshots, and reeling curt into safety the second he's in range. and also the two of them brat-taming the fuck out of bucky, with curt telling gale exactly what and how much he should give bucky. i mean what.

[wrt smacking bucky around lmao genuinely i think curt and gale BOTH have crises about That Time Bucky Made Me Hit Him, but they're flavored differently: curt is upset bucky kept pushing at what curt tried to express as a limit, but gale is upset that he couldn't "control" himself in the face of bucky pushing him. i don't think either of them have the language to express any of this clearly, either, so it's a top drop clusterfuck both times, but it's worse for gale because he has the self-hate i'm-just-like-my-dad-after-all spiral waiting and ready to go, whereas curt's like "i'm fucked up over this. why am i fucked up over this. oh, because i didn't want to, i SAID i didn't want to, and bucky didn't listen to me." i've got thoughts about it]

#LONG ASS POST but oh well!#anonymous #asks #masters of the air #buckcurt #curtgale #curtgalejohn #buck(y) sandwich #buckbuckycurt #gale cleven #curt biddick #Thoughts. Ruminating.

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drchenquill · 20 days

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Since you've taken the liberty to ask me about my title, I have to admit, I've been curious about yours too. But I've been really preoccupied with personal stuff so I got a bit late. And I have ALOT. Hope you don't mind me bombarding you.

Desire Is The Purest Of Sins

Life Can Be a Bitch

Elite

The Fairy And The Man

The Nightingale

Pas De Deux

The Secrets Of The Sea

Veangeance Is The Meal Of The Powerless

The Memories Of The Future

Foliè

I can't help it 😭 the titles were pulling me in 😭😭😭.

Oh gosh!!! Thank you so much for the interest!!! I'm overwhelmed (in a good way)!! I'm always happy to talk about my stories, so don't even worry about bombarding me!! I welcome it!

Let's begin, shall we?

Desire Is The Purest Of Sins

This story talks about a young woman named Rosie the goes through life with metaphorical blinders. Nothing can change her world view, until she lands a job as a barwoman. There she'll meet a man she first gets to know as "Gin". He is a charming man, flirtious, knows his way around the ladies, but Rosie won't let herself be swooned or brought off track, until she sees something she shouldn't have. Her "blinders" get ripped off and now she is forced to see the world in a whole new light. (spoiler: it's a fantasy story~)

Life Can Be a Bitch

This is a rather tame, non-fantasy high school romance story. Eighteen year old Hannah moves into a new city with her mother and has to attend a new school. To her surprise, she fits in quite well, making friends pretty fast. She meets Dylan, a wannabe bad boy that gets beat up on a regular basis, and they get along like a cat and a dog (not) , but they gradually get used to each other and something starts to bloom~

Elite

This is quite tricky to explain, but I'll try my best. I've come up with a race of creatures who inherited their luck bringing powers from "Lady Luck". Their task is to prevent a vitium. A vitium is what happens when a world is in such a bad streak of bad luck that it fades from existence. This usually happens when the world has to go through something that affects its history. If for some reason that doesn't happen, then the world is gone because its story hasn't been continued. Now, the main character of this story is part of the elite, the best of the best. She gets send down on earth to investigate the disappearance of some of her collegues that had previously send down to safe the world from the incoming vitium.

The Fairy And The Man

This one is about soulmates, or better, the wish of having one. Moira, the main character, is a fairy woman, locked up with other fairy women to prevent the extinction of their race. You must know, my kind of fairies, are very, very, sensitive to emotions. A fairy could literally explode from happiness or die out of fear, so they lock them up and give them a pill to surpress any kind of emotion. But Moira hates being locked up, she wants to go outside, to find out who she could be if those walls wouldn't be trapping her. She suddenly gets a roommate, sixteen year old Felicity. A young fairy that is everything that withered away inside the now twenty year old Moira. Felicity is full of exictment and joy, awaiting the arrival of someone that could sweep her off her feet. Sadly, that person does come and manages to coax young Felicity out of those protective walls, leading her into an unknown world. Moira follows without a second thought, but everything goes downhill from that point on.

The Nightingale

A young woman forced to either marry a wealthy man or to work under a wealthy woman. She chooses the latter, of course, because with that one, she will at least get paid to do the housework. Madeline Templeton starts working under a noblewoman as one of many other maids. She is eager to please (to not get kicked out) and follows all the rules. At least some of them. She is very curious and sticks her nose into things the lady of the house might want to keep hidden. One of the biggest rules is to not enter the white door that she will eagerly open anyway. In there she will find something that will change her life forever... or maybe someone?

Pas De Deux

Another non-fantasy story. Ellie is a ballett dancer with a weird sort of problem. She hates being touched. Only the people she knows her entire life long are able to touch her without getting snapped at or even hit. She can't help it, she herself doesn't understand why. Everything goes to shit when her train and dance partner ditches her. At least he has the decency to present her wih a solution: his older brother. Joshua Reed is a boxer with a nasty reputation and a shitty personality. She begrudgingly gives in to let Joshua help her with the training, which is the worst idea she could ever have.

The Secrets Of The Sea

Pirates, wohoooo!!! Maire is the daughter of a pirate captain and the sea is the only think she knows. She was born on it and will die on it. One day, her father decides to visit an old friend, explaining that he still owned him a favor. Without doubting her father one bit, she and the rest of the crew agree to this favor. As she will find out, the favor included trafficking of a creature she long thought a myth: a siren.

Veangeance Is The Meal Of The Powerless

Its' a vampire murder mysterty and it's sort of a sequel of a finished book of mine "Who's to judge?". We follow Thana, Talon, Valerio and Leroy as they get called to assist in a murder case with a vampire as primary suspect. The evidence was clear as day, they only needed to find which vampire took their anger out on the victim. But the more they dig, the more intricate the case becomes. What if the murderer is the actual victim? What if this wasn't an act of meaningless killing, but an act of veangeance? Our four vampires will need to question thei own morals and world views to get to the bottom of this.

The Memories Of The Future

Picture this, a young girl lives with her aunt and her border collie in an old town where nothing intersting ever happens. This young girl, Sophie, is as chaotic and skittish as a squirrel, and just as forgetful. She leaves notes for herself around the house to remind her of stuff she has to do, which she still forgets. But as she soon will find out, those notes and those confusing visions she has, are acutally snippets from the future, and it turns out, some people might want to kindnap her because of it.

Foliè

My newest baby. This is the first story I planned out the numbers of chapters (let's see how well that will go). It's set in a world where the air has been polluted by something the humans call "The Madness". It's a gas that slowly makes you lose the grip on reality. Once you inhale it, there's no turning back. You'll hear a womans voice, whispering to you your deepest, darkest wishes. She will not stop until you act upon it. Some scientists succeeded in building a machine that filters the air, but since it's still in its early stage, it needs a lot of maintrnance, that's where the main character comes in. They are in charge of checking every crook of the machine, which goes well until, one day, they start hearing the womans voice.

That was a wild ride! Again, thank you so so so much for asking and I hope you have a wonderful evening/day!!!

#asks #wip ask #writing #writeblr #writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #wip

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mahalshairyballs · 2 years

Text

Moon Knight playlist

A work in progress, it will grow

Part 2

So far the songs I think fit them are :

Already Dead by The Pretty reckless

In the doldrums of my life

I was nice to the people that I meet

But inside there was hate

Can you relate to the feelings that I preach?

If you're sure I know

The way to go

I'm sure it's all in your head

I'm cold, already dead

I, I saw in the distance

a freight train out of the mist

It was heading, it was rolling right at me

So I started running but I lose my breath

Too many cigarettes, I smoked me to death

And I will remember I can feel it all

[...]

You died so long

So long ago

I'm alone up here on this stage

I'm cold, already dead

[...]

This one is pretty metaphorical but also weirdly literal (the Marc system is pretty good at dying after all).

And it relates to all the system. First two lines are about Steven, then next two are Marc's. Then later on we have Jake with 'too many cigarettes I smoked me to death'. Most of the song is about Marc talking to his other alters or even to himself.

Bad Company by Five Finger Death Punch

A company always on the run

A destiny, oh it's the rising sun

I was born, a shotgun in my hands

Behind the gun

I'll make my final stand, yeah

That's why they call me

Bad company

I can't deny

Bad, bad company

'Til the day I die

[...]

Rebel souls

Deserters we've been called

Chose a gun

And threw away the song

Now these towns

Well they all know our name

The Death Punch sound

Is our claim of fame

And that's why they call me

Bad company

[...]

This one is mostly Jake but also a bit of (mercenary) Marc or both of them as Moon Knight

Between the Bars by Elliot Smith

Drink up baby, stay up all night

With the things you could do

You won't but you might

The potential you'll be that you'll never see

The promises you'll only make

Drink up with me now

And forget all about the pressure of days

Do what I say and I'll make you okay

And drive them away

The images stuck in your head

People you've been before

That you don't want around anymore

That push and shove and won't bend to your will

I'll keep them still

[...]

This is definitely a Layla x Marc song for me. With the soft music and the lyrics it reminded me of my headcanon for them with soft domme!Layla x repressed bottom!Marc

Bird on a Wire by Sarah Blasko

Hurt like a bird on a wire

You got cursed

You got burnt

Something that no one deserves

Has broken your wings

You forgot how to sing

All the trouble it brings

Trouble that it brings

[...]

For the first time in your life you're coming home

You can feel the strength returning to your bones

[...]

This is another Layla x Marc song, or just Marc song but I do picture Layla saying/singing this to Marc, with 'for the first time you're coming home' talking about herself. Since after season 1, for the first time he's really there with her.

Birth in Reverse by St. Vincent

Oh what an ordinary day

Take out the garbage, masturbate

I'm still holding for the laugh

The dogs will bark, so let them bark

The birds will cry, I'll let them cry

Here's my report from the edge

[...]

You could say that I'm sane

In phenomenal lies

[...]

This one has only a few lyrics that fit to me, but I like the vibe it gives. It's mostly Marc but a bit of Steven too ?

See Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

#Spotify #moon knight #moon knight playlist #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #layla el faouly #layla el faouly x marc spector #layla x marc #there's multiple parts #this is a work in progress #hugging the marc system forever #marc spector tries his best #marc spector deserves everything #we love our neuroatypical british nerd angel here #nobody expects the spanish lockley #*hugging the marc system forever*

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Text

dance with me

Bokuto x Reader - Scenario

event request: “Can you do prompt 2. Dance with me for Bokuto?? Congrats btw!”

a/n: i’m always down to write anything for Bokuto, bb. enjoy some fluffy, slow-dancing moments with your fiancé, Bo, for me please, love!!

warnings: mentions of marriage & engagements

wc: 1350

---

“Y/n, can you set that down for a minute?” Bokuto’s grin peeks over the top of your paperback book as he pushes it down with his hands.

“But Bo, I’m at the best part!” You whine, pulling it towards your chest, away from his grasp.

He’s leaning over you now, a signature pout adorning his expression. You try not to look up, but you can’t help it.

No.

Not those eyes.

His puppy-dog expression tugs at your heartstrings in the worst way. His eyebrows are knitted together with such sorrow, imploring you to give him your undivided attention.

“For me? Please.” He’s begging. Again, a puppy-dog.

“I just want to be with you…” His head is tilted, eyes pleading.

You sigh helplessly. So needy.

But you give him a soft smile, gently marking the chapter and setting aside your beloved book for the boy you love even more.

His eyes light up immediately, Bokuto’s smile is beaming at full-force once again. Just as it should be.

“Fine-”

As soon as he gets verbal confirmation, he’s grabbing you firmly by the underneath of your thighs and lifting you up off the couch causing you to gasp. Your balance is thrown completely off. He laughs as you frantically tuck your legs behind his back and throw your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling backward.

With that, you give him a frustrated frown, but the moment his eyes crinkle with mischief, you know you’re in trouble. He squeezes your thighs, tickling you, which forces you to abandon your forced frown and sends you into a bout of bubbling laughter.

A peachy blush forms across his grinning face at the sound of your voice, even though he’s the one who’s supposed to be getting you flustered. Bokuto buries his face into the crook of your neck, drawing your body even closer to his. You tighten your hold around his neck, loving the way his soft, grey hair brushes against your face.

Bokuto is always trying to find new ways to incite that divine sound.

It’s like music to his ears…

Music...

“AH MUSIC.” He blurts out, jolting his head back to face you, a flash of excitement glimmering in his golden-yellow eyes.

His sudden movement shouldn’t have startled you since he’s almost never calm for more than a few seconds, but you still haven’t fully adapted to his chaotic tendencies.

“Babe, what?” You question, cocking an eyebrow at his goofy expression.

“Ahhh, just come with me!” He expresses impatiently.

“Bo, you’re literally carrying me.” You state, but not without a laugh.

So he sets you down gently, allowing your feet to meet the floor before immediately dashing to the next room over, leaving you confused and wondering what your boisterous sweetheart was getting you into this time.

But in all truth, you’ve never loved someone more.

Before Bokuto, you’d always fallen for short-term lovers. “Bad boys,” as Bokuto now cheesily refers to them as.

It was easy to fall for their mysterious, eye-catching personalities and attractive faces.

They promised you pretty things. Long, steamy nights in dim-lit hotel rooms. Flirty, messy kisses in darkened theaters. Yes, your past boyfriend’s showered you in dirty, devoted promises about what they would do to you.

But it was never about what they would do for you.

You would always end up wishing for more. For something beautiful to happen in the slower, cloudier moments of life. For someone to last longer than the sunny, sensual seconds…

Yet they never stuck around to share the little things. You were always racing against time. Any ounce of conflict or trouble would crumble the already shaky foundation of your relationship.

It was never like that with Bokuto.

It didn’t bother him if you were sick, blowing your nose for 4 days straight or leaning over a toilet seat. He was there. Never leaving you alone except to get groceries or medicine. Holding your hair back and buying you boxes of tissues and cough drops. He would gladly catch a cold for you.

It didn’t matter that you were trapped inside your apartment on your 2 year anniversary, sheets of pouring rain coasting across the window panes, the weather laughing at your attempts to go out. Bokuto was impossible to faze in moments like these. He lit candles across the kitchen counter-tops when the power gave out and wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you concocted a dessert of some sort. You two consumed ungodly amounts of cookie dough that night and shared in celebratory chocolate kisses.

It didn’t change when you were grief-stricken. When you’d locked yourself behind a closet door, sobbing and mourning your most recent loss. He would sit on the opposite side of the door. Waiting for you. Crying with you. That small space under the door? Bokuto used it to feel around for your fingers, linking them together with his digits when he found them. That day, and many times after, he coaxed you out of real and metaphorical closets with loving, gentle words.

It’s why you chose to set that precious book down today.

It’s why you let him hold you whenever he’s feeling needy or lonely, a knowing smile etched onto your face.

It’s why you decided to put on that gold-laced engagement ring. Why you accepted his teary-eyed marriage proposal months ago.

Because for so long, you couldn’t see yourself with anyone for more than a couple months at most. It always seemed to end no matter how much effort you put into your side of the relationship.

Yet Bo gave you every reason to believe that he would stick around, making you feel like you always had a place by his side. That you were always wanted. Worthy of a lifelong commitment.

And whether you liked it or not, he would’ve bugged you until you agreed to marry him, so it’s probably a good thing you accepted the first time around.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts because just as soon as he had raced out of the room, he’s back with a newfound energy, hands full with a massive Bluetooth speaker and a fully-charged phone.

The moment it’s set up, he’s choosing a song. His eyes dash through all of his beloved playlists labeled with strangely specific names. You peer over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the one he’s scrolling through.

The playlist is titled “Dance With Me.”

You burst into another soft fit of giggles over the lovey-dovey name, causing him to turn his head, much like a curious owl.

He had the makings to be a charmer. And a cheeseball.

Both, for sure.

“Y/nnnn, don’t make fun of me! I need to practice for the wedding, don’t I?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you like a schoolboy with a crush.

A smile silently adorns your features.

With the click of a song, your ears are blessed with the melodic flow of R&B, thick with bluesy guitars and lyrical loveliness. A true slow jam, perfect for rocking on heels and leaning into broad shoulders.

You roll your eyes, throwing your arms around his neck for the 2nd time today.

“We’ve still got 8 months til we’re married, baby.” You remind him, your heart jumping at your own words.

8 short months.

8 months until forever.

Forever with your favorite person.

And it doesn’t scare you. No, the flutters in your stomach are reassuring and brimming with excitement.

You couldn’t wait.

So you rest your forehead against his, staring deeply into his contemplative orbs.

As you two sway to the beat, you can tell he’s thinking. Pondering that sentence. Cultivating a response. You can feel it in the way his thumbs stroke the sides of your hips in deliberation.

He’s searching your gaze and his own mind. Drawing a conclusion.

You just wait. Swaying to the beat, drinking in his almond, vanilla scent, patiently watching his thought process unfold before you.

“I just wish it were sooner.” He whispers, eyes locked on yours.

Oh.

Oh Bokuto.

You release your hold around his neck, slowly drawing your face away from his and moving your hands toward his features. The slow dancing pauses, his feet subconsciously planting themselves on the floor in curious anticipation of what’s to come.

Your knuckles stroke his cheekbones, causing him to flush slightly. Fingers brush against his jawline, your eyes now concentrated on his lips.

How dare he speak such beautiful things with that mouth. Always so smooth when you least expect it.

You lean in, giving him a soft peck, lingering on his lips for just for a moment. Enough to tease him. Because it’s so unfair of him to say things like that...

When he knows full well that you would marry him right here, on the spot.

Under the broken chandelier in your dingy apartment’s living room, you would dedicate your whole life to him, vows and all, while twirling to a playlist called “Dance With Me.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro #bokuto #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq scenarios #hq imagines #bokuto fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #600 follower event #sneezefiction

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sepialunaris · 3 years

Text

Besides the crazy stupid plot twist and dumb character actions I think the big problen why Jurassic World is a failure of a narrative is that it constantly confuses its own tone and what idea it wants to convey. And as a whole it just sounds like singing praises to capitalism and pinning problems on other aspects instead of the root of the problem.

So JW is said to have been open for 15 years, and its said people are bored with classic InGen retrosaurs hence initiating the creation of Indominus, and yet from the other perspective people are enjoying the retrosaurs just fine? It is not even hinted a bit that they did not not enjoy them besides that bit of exposition.

And our audience perspective character doesn't work. Gray and Zach seems to come from a middle-upper class family and yet they never visited the park for years despite having a family member as a high level staff? Knowing their son is obsessed with dinosaurs? And the only reason they were sent there was because it was an excuse to cover up their parent's divorce? In the case of Darius Bowman from CC it makes sense, but this is weird. It's kind of nitpicky, but okay my point is, what makes them ineffective is that they are new eyes to the park and Zach cannot represent "ahh ppl who already seen this many times get inspired to see the beauty of ugly 1993 retrosaurs" because he has never been there either. So its just weird to include their POV when it deosnt complement the Indominus narrative and if it does it feels forced and loose.

And its more bizarre when the movie seems to be more obsessed with showing "oh my god look at this capitalist paradise! John Hammond's gentrification deeam fulfilled!" and panning on random buildings and starbucks with the Jurassic Park theme. Besides "do you have dinosaurs in your dinosaur park" it just wooshes the anti-capitalist social commentary of JP, more crazy when its loads of product placement. I know that they did plan a panning shot with dinosaurs which would've been effective and narratively fitting rather than *pan to giant building* so idk why they even did that. And so idk if this movie wants to criticize capitalism and consumerism combined with the privatizing of the genetics could give way to ethical and environmental issues or do they want to say "god powers are allowed for capitalists if they are nice" (ahh and based on leaks for JWD, its the latter. They made John Hammond a messiah for protecting his unethical business from the 'bad capitalists' omg)

There's also the issue of 'authentic' dinosaurs (hence why I keep mentioning retrosaurs from the start 😂, i want to talk about this too). The scene with Wu and Masrani works, but ultimately the whole movie fails it. It is lifted from one of the few good scenes from the oroginal movel with Wu and Hammond, and concerns about how ALL dinosaurs from this park are genetic hybrids from the start. And well it would've worked well to explore the ethics and capitalism approach but honestly with the whole movie as comparison it just sounds like "guys this is the reason why they are not realistic and feathered please dont ask us about it again." The fact that they are hybridized retrosaurs get ignored and thrown under the rug besides that one scene, and we never again explore how unnatural all of them are as the movie time to time again keeps promoting a division between "legit" dinosaurs and Indominus, the character Lowery keeps pushing. And the latter... aslo shows how much they want to praise the first park and John Hammond despite it being a metaphor of capitalism failing from wanting to conquer nature, despite it being the exact same thing as modern JW. "They didnt need these hybrids they only had real dinosaurs" is already an errornous statement since all of them were frog hybrids, so if its wrong... what was the point of bringing it up? JP didn't just fail because Dennis Nedry sabotaged it, it was bound to fail for its attempt to control nature as Ian said. However JW attributes the singular creation of Indominus as the reason for its failure (and by attribute hoo boy how many plotholes did they engineer to pin it the blame. Suddenly it knows its being thermally monitored? Or does it just releases electromagnetic energy to make ppl around it dumb or jam cellphones, god im rambling), and if they continued making retrosaurs it would've been fine? So what was the message? "Its okay to mix dinosaur dna with frogs but don't add to much to the mixture"? "Its okay to play god with capitalism but dont go too far"? Instead of mentioning both concepts as unethical and the concept of Indominus as an already flawed concept pushed even more unethically, the increasing level of tolerance for playing god already shows a shift of morals from the JP and JW. So once again its 'capitalism is actually good, its just the evil ppl thats the problem'

It honestly just erases the brilliant potential of how that narrative could be engaged. Of course its obvious the park would want to promote their retrosaurs as legit and Indominus as a different flavor despite both being hybrids but the latter being pushed to the max, so both of them are bound to have intersecting problems. However not everyone would've been fooled by such promotion. And yet from our POV only Wu was aware of it; the view of them as retrosaurs is treated as an understatement to be ignored as we are only allowed to see things and agree with opinions from the POV of Lowery or the kids against Hoskins' cartoony "lets convince our president to use dinos to steal oil" idea.

It could've honestly touched on many aspects of de-extinction or concepts like the Chickenosaurus, as well as the complex moral dillema around many genetic issues, but the movie just wants to shy away from it and impose a black and white morality of "Indominus bad unnatural" and "retrosaurs good natural." Not unnesary military commentary that doesn't work (dinosaur's effect in the environment would be more devastating than them acting as military weapons so pro-US imperialists can be proud (one bullet will kill them, I swear yeah ik this is a 'scifi' franchise, but the logic hoops you need to jump from that. One raptor died from getting hit by a rocket launcher as they should. So what US wants to use these bags of flesh as weapons to steal oil? There is nothing they can do that dogs or dolphins can't do better). The only time its kinda shown is when Indominus is killing Apatosaurus for fun, but... real animals like humans, dolphins, chimps do that too. And the movie treats this as something unnatural or makes it evil. Scorpios rex despite being ugly actually accomplishes the ecological horror of having an invasive creature invade an ecosystem (despite the ecosystem itself alr being flawed and superficially created) and being able to reproduce through parthenogenesis). And I doubt they would touch on this in JWD despite the variance of animals they will show, as even Atrociraptor is not going to be called out by name in that film, that they can change its name in post production.

#jw negativity #anti jurassic world #jurassic world negativity #jurassic park #god i actually out this to words #that said if they wanted to even tackle moral dilemmas in the field of genetics i sont trust them at all #they will just sound racist and eugenic about it #jwd leaks #jwd leak

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chaosrealm-mk-imagines · 4 years

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do fluffy headcanons with your favorite characters

It shall be my pleasure! Thanks for the request and hope you like it~~

Kenshi

- He loves touching people to feel them, it’s a strange feeling and he only does that with the ones he love and care about, his touch is soft and delicate.

- Kenshi has a hard time reading people when they’re too emotional because he senses their feelings and it clouds his judgement

- He asks his S/O to help him when shaving his beard, he likes the feeling of someone else taking care of him

- Has a weak spot for cuddling and listening to his S/O voice whispered

Quan Chi

- The necromancer has a weak spot for skeletons and think they’re cute, he oftenly adorns them with pretty accessories and talks to them about his feelings

- Quan Chi is self conscious about being bald and wishes he had hair, his S/O needs to tell him that it’s okay to be hairless and that he don’t need a wig to be handsome

- When he readed about Earthrealm culture he interpreted everything literally and truly thought that Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Queen of England were real beings

- His pet Puggles sleeps with him at his coffin, besides being a bat he acts pretty much like a puppy with his master

Shinnok

- He is a big fan of gothic literature and has Edgar Allan Poe as a revenant to write stories about him, he also thinks that Dracula by Bram Stoker is about him and no one can tell him otherwise

- Shinnok is not used to feeling emotions so he can be really sensible with some things, he cries watching romance movies and may have a human disguise known as Gary Oldman

- If his S/O asks him for something, he will imediatly gave them no matter what it’s. Do you want a deceased person back? Done! Do you wish for a new computer? Done! Do you want your favorite artist as a undead slave for all eternity? Done!

- He likes cats and has a familiar that is a beautiful black persian one which he calls “Lucifer” as a way of mock the old Netherrealm ruler.

Mileena

- Loves pet names and has a weak spot for being called “Darling” or “Honey”, she enjoys thinking that her life is a fairy tale and no one can take that from her

- She smells like a mix of blood and roses, it’s a weird mix but it fits her, her hair is soft and has a sweet scent to it too. Mileena has a beauty routine that includes long baths and a lot of body lotion.

- Mileena gave names to her weapons, her infamous favorite pair of Sai are called “Romeo and Juliet” as a reference to a love story she heard so many people from Earthrealm talk about, she has the habit of naming most of her stuff

- Being a childish person she’s fond of playing around with kids, it’s not hard to see her in the middle of a tag game with children

Raiden

- Can’t understand sarcasm and that makes him sound like a goofy, most of the time he won’t get the jokes and laughs at himself for that, he does has a lot to learn from mortals

- When his hair is loose he looks younger and blushes a lot when someone says that he should show his hair more times, he’s not used to compliments and has no idea of how to accept them

- He likes watching childs cartoons when he’s not busy at Earthrealm, it’s a kind of entertainment that catches his attention and he can’t understand why Johnny is mocking him for that, his favorite cartoon is classic Scooby Doo show because he loves the idea of a talking dog helping to discover mysteries

- Raiden thought that the movies were real when he first watched one, he needed a lot of explanation to learn how they were filmed and that it was only fiction

Fujin

- His time at Earthrealm made him really fond of bad puns, this boy can’t keep his mouth shut when someone gives him the opportunity to make a joke, he needs to learn that it’s not okay to make a joke during a funeral

- May take things too literally and need help understanding metaphors, after that he will only speak in riddles and good luck trying to make him act like a normal person again

- Asks his S/O for help to braid his hair, he finds it odd that Cassie is calling him “Rapunzel” and has to ask who is this so called person, after he reads the tale he thinks it’s funny that hair could be used as a rope for climbing a tower, it may be giving him some ideas

- Every time he’s back to Earthrealm he needs to get cotton candy or else he’s not able to keep living, he wishes that kind of thing existed at the other realms too

Frost

- She likes watching musicals and don’t you dare teasing her for that, she knows all the songs from Les Misérables and even High School Musical but will never admit it!

- Wants to teach her S/O skating, she’s really into it and also likes snowboard of course since she can do it at every time of the year

- She likes being hugged and is starved for cuddling, someone please help her i’m serious

- Frost once put hair remover lotion at Kuai Liang shampoo and he went bald believing to be afflicted with some decease, he never discovered the truth about what she did

Sindel (the real one)

- Has a lot of love to give and calls everyone “darling”, she’s the kindest and cooler mother that everyone ever wanted to have

- Takes more than three hours to get ready for something, she has a hard time choosing which boots she should use today and spends too much time brushing her hair

- Reads to Kitana before sleep, even when she’s alredy old enough to take care of herself, she can’t let go of her maternal love and habits

- Bakes the best cakes of Edenia for her family, she’s the person that brings food to a party and is responsible for the gain of extra pounds that her friends have

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat aftermath #headcanon #hc #mortal kombat headcanons #sindel #mileena #shinnok #quan chi #kenshi #frost #fujin #raiden #fluffy stuff #ask #requests open #mk

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brave-clarice · 3 years

Text

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episode 1

Here are my extremely unfashionably late takes! They’re long, so strap in if you want.

okay, I genuinely thought the scenes in Gumb’s basement were ripped from the film for a second. extremely well done.

I both appreciate that they’re acknowledging the Bureau-mandated psych eval Clarice would have to go through (not sure she’d have to have another one a year later?)...

...but I sure wish they hadn’t chosen to open this show in a therapy-like session. it’s going to be subject to enough NBC comparisons as it is.

gosh, Rebecca Breeds is so pretty, and in the same almost, idk, elfin kind of way Jodie Foster is.

“Bride of Frankenstein”! a novel reference! and a Hannibal Lecter reference even though they can’t use his name! I’m excited

I was afraid of this part, though--everyone’s going to call her “Clarice” aren’t they?

it’s very significant that in the books, Hannibal is virtually alone in using her first name to address her; even Ardelia calls her “Starling.” but of course this series chose “Clarice” as its title, so...

“the checkout lady at the Safeway asked me to autograph a melon” omg

so Clarice has supposedly been “mandated” to see an FBI therapist for an entire year? hmm.

tbh, this feels kind of like a proxy for Hannibal’s scenes in the movie, especially with the therapist calling her “Clarice.” not sure if I dig it.

“...given that your last therapist was an inmate” Hannibal reference #2!

they’re explicitly talking about Hannibal without being able to name him and it’s hilarious, frustrating, and immensely satisfying all at once.

there’s no way to avoid talking about him altogether without being disingenuous to Clarice’s eventual character arc, so I’m glad they’re ripping off the band-aid early

“you let that relationship be intimate” Yeah, Clarice and Hannibal’s relationship IS intimate and YOU! SHOULD! SAY IT!!!

it’s kind of ridiculous for this guy/the show not to acknowledge that little trainee Clarice was sent to see Hannibal by someone who should’ve known better. That Crawford was doing it with the intention to save lives doesn’t mean he didn’t use the shit out of Clarice.

that’s not to take away her agency or minimize the choices she made after she met Hannibal. She wouldn’t have been in a position to make those choices if Crawford hadn’t arranged it, though.

even if they don’t have the rights to Crawford’s name, either (I have to assume that’s the case) couldn’t they at least mention this??

“hasn’t seen her own family in years” Are they actually going to address Clarice’s maybe-dead-maybe-not mother (depending on the canon they adopt, book or film) and possible siblings??? Please tell me they are!

Clarice’s “egregious” PTSD doesn’t have much to do with Buffalo Bill ofc, and this therapist seems to be making excuses to be the first in a long line of men getting in the way of Clarice’s career goals...

...which she recognizes and confronts him about. Call him out!!!

*Anthony Hopkins voice* That’s my girl.

the way she’s been written in this scene gives me a lot of hope going forward! she’s funny, she doesn’t take any sexist bullshit, she’s calm and polite but you get a glimpse of the rage underneath.

wow, they promoted Senator Martin to Attorney General!

the opening credits (if you can even call them that) are a let-down, though

she has her beads!

can anyone who’s not Hannibal please stop calling her Clarice

wonder if they’re going to touch on any of the extreme tension that existed between Senator Martin and Clarice in the novel? they didn’t interact in the movie, but in the book, Martin is under intense stress, and it doesn’t go smoothly.

of course in “Hannibal,” Martin invites her to “ride horses,” so they obviously reconciled after Catherine’s rescue and kept in some kind of touch.

and speak of the devil: horses! (and Catherine)

“I can’t have a reputation, I’ve only done it once” Thank you for being the voice of reason, Clarice.

“Paul Krendler” *ugly screaming commences*

“you don’t have any people, Clarice” Aaand that’s the plot of the Hannibal novel!

looks like they even gave her the ring Jodie’s Clarice wears!

oh yeah, this Krendler looks like a sumbitch if I ever saw one. No one will ever be as perfectly cast as the dude in Silence imo, but a much better fit than Ray Liotta.

“small carat, but it’s a sweet ring” A very in-character observation probably directly informed by her comments about nail polish in Silence.

she mentions this victim’s nail polish (!) being “tasteful,” and I shrieked a little again.

I understand it’s necessary for Krendler to be a douche, but there’s not even going to be any payoff for the audience (or Clarice) when Hannibal eats him, so boo.

wait...wait, why aren’t Clarice and Ardelia in their Alexandria duplex? They’re not just best friends, they’re roommates! For the entire seven-year story! GIVE ME THE DUPLEX!!!

BUT points for Ardelia bringing Clarice a treat, since she was always leaving her candy bars in the Silence book!

Clarice interacting with the washer/dryer is a nice nod to the books, too.

speaking of... “What did we learn in the laundry room back at Quantico?” For some reason this line made me actually cry, I guess because this whole episode has been such a love letter to something I love so dearly, and it’s making me emotional.

FIRST PRINCIPLES!

DESPERATELY RANDOM!!!

wow, the men in Clarice’s new office giving her lotion as a hazing “welcome” gift is awful, and now I’m just mad (which is the point of the scene ofc).

so this ex-military OC is the John Brigham stand-in, I take it?

if that means John Brigham won’t be here, No Thanks.

Clarice telling him she’ll drive...a tribute to Dana “Why Do You Always Have to Drive?” Scully, perhaps (who was herself inspired by Clarice) as well as a nod to Clarice’s love of cars?

“Why do they call you the bride of Frankenstein?” Sorry, I don’t have the legal rights to tell you about my last intimate relationship.

“Already on my way to West Virginia Granny Witch” Look, this show could crash and burn from this scene on, and it would still have been worth it just for these first 25 minutes.

I like that Clarice is shown wanting to help people, and the scene of her with the baby is a nice call-back to the eventual shoot-out at the beginning of “Hannibal”...but I hope they don’t try to domesticate her too much. Clarice needs her hard edges. To be tough (reasonably so)--a cub growing into its big cat’s claws.

also, somehow I doubt that Miss Valedictorian spent her six years in the Lutheran home “changing a lot of diapers,” but sure, okay. If her siblings are alive in this, she might have changed their diapers!

even though Krendler’s a real dickwad so far, he’s not slimy enough for me. Needs more grease.

“I got a call from your therapist who’s concerned that you might genuinely flip out” I really do not like this subplot Sam-I-Am. Aren’t the huge glass ceiling/Boys’ Club obstacles enough?

seriously, though, I know Hannibal tells her that the metaphorical lambs will come back--at the end of Silence, though, she’s at some kind of temporary peace, not in danger of “flipping out” any time soon.

if Esquivel really is our Brigham stand-in, I’ve got...problems with that. He was Clarice’s teacher and became her friend, not some Krendler double-agent. (Also worried they’re setting him up as a love interest for her which...eesh, no thanks.)

and sorry, I actually hate that Catherine kept Precious the dog in this.

I have no problem with Catherine being a character, or with her interacting with Clarice...that said, I don’t know if her being shown as severely traumatized and reaching out to Clarice as a form of emotional lifeline is...a good idea?

I understand the symbolism of Catherine’s smashed mirror, but...smashed mirrors are already a Thing in this series (albeit not Clarice’s chapter in it), and that’s all I can think of here.

Catherine’s a victim of unthinkable trauma. Nevertheless...she’s talking to the woman who saved her life. Who risked death to do it. I just don’t like the way this scene is written. Apparently, in this show’s canon, Catherine hasn’t gotten the help she needs. But Clarice isn’t her therapist, and it’s upsetting to have Catherine being all “I’ll never be safe and neither will you.”

how does Catherine remember “the mannequins, the autopsy table”?? And why is she throwing them in Clarice’s face?

I’m going to stop talking about this scene now because it’s making me angry and a little upset, which is maybe the point? I just don’t think it’s written well. If Catherine’s going to be a recurring character, I hope she’s shown getting professional, medical help.

Clarice finding the victim’s papers in the box of pads is a direct callback to her finding the photos in the jewelry box in Silence. Nice.

let’s agree that Hannibal and Crawford are both in Ardelia’s (too-cutesy-for-me) book

another nice little X-Files homage?

I have some qualms about that big climax, but...meh. It was capital-F Fine.

Yikes, this is a full week late. Thanks for reading this entirely-too-long post through to the end, if you’re still here!

To sum up my thoughts...

The Good:

the visual connections to the Silence film (that green coat/blue knit scarf combo in particular)

Rebecca Breeds’ performance overall so far

Clarice’s strong writing/characterization

her sense of humor and her inclination to call out bullshit

maybe it was just me, but I also got a sense of Hannibal’s influence on her in some of her dialogue--her blunt observations--and I love it

Ardelia Mapp

the repeated in-your-face references to Hannibal Lecter

the respectful, non-exploitative way the victims were treated by the narrative.

let’s just say, not all Harris-inspired shows managed to do this. :)

the many, many allusions to the novel

“you let that relationship be INTIMATE” !!!

The Bad:

the near-constant implication that all Clarice’s trauma stems from her experiences in Gumb’s basement

I just don’t understand this one...it’s not supported by the text imo

the “Clarice-is-a-psychological-loose-canon” subplot

almost everyone calling her “Clarice”

NO DUPLEX IN ALEXANDRIA! Boo!

Esquivel maybe replacing Brigham

the narrative choices they’ve made surrounding Catherine so far.

Seriously: please let Catherine seek/get help instead of screaming “HELP ME” at Clarice, who after all risked her own life to save Catherine’s, over the phone.

The Ugly: Paul Krendler, lol. Confession time: I also don’t care for the way they’ve styled her hair. Not sure why it bugs me, it just...does.

Overall, I’m thrilled to death with this. I was so afraid it would be disappointing, so even if it’s not a five-star episode (and pilots rarely are), it’s a great beginning! It’s beyond amazing to see our girl on the screen again. Just this hour-long episode did her character way more justice than the entire Hannibal film. Despite its shortcomings, it’s such a loving homage to characters and a story that mean a lot to me, and I love it just for that.

Going forward, I’d like to see more of Clarice as a person. Her hobbies and interests--cars, sharpshooting, running, fashion magazines stuffed under her bed, horseback riding, her total inability to cook...anything would do. I of course want to see more of her with Ardelia. I want to hear more about her backstory and find out which version of it (truly orphaned when her father dies or sent away by her mother) they’ll choose to explore. And while we all agree that this show is about Clarice and she don’t need no man, I won’t lie: I’d gobble up more sly references to Hannibal. He’s her endgame, after all.

I’d also like to really see the warrior underneath. There are flashes of her in the last twenty minutes of this episode. But Clarice Starling is a big cat, she’s a warrior, she’s between iron and silver. I’d hate for her to spend most of this show doe-eyed and traumatized. I want her to be ferocious, to see the woman who’s a match for the monster.

Krendler needs to get nastier. He should make us feel like we need to shower. In the novels, he wants to use Clarice--only for her body. And when she won’t allow him to, he takes his revenge. That’s what makes him so particularly awful. Let’s amp him up here.

And finally...maybe I’ll appreciate Catherine’s scene more on a second watch. Maybe I’m not being sensitive enough to her trauma, her struggles. But I didn’t like the way that scene was staged or scripted, and I didn’t like the suggestion that she just hasn’t gotten help after a year and is subsequently taking her pain out on Clarice on some level. I hope future episodes handle this subplot, and her character, a bit better.

Please let me know if you guys would like me to do another of these monstrosities for the next episode. (I promise it won’t take me an entire week this time!) And thank you again for reading!!!

#Clarice Starling #clarice #cbs clarice #rebecca breeds #media [cbs show]#char [clarice starling]#I'm sorry again about how amazingly late this is heh #you've probably all watched and processed by now and have moved on to Episode 2 but I am slow

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

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Uɳσ! ɯ/ Hαιƙყυυ!! {Kαɾαʂυɳσ}

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I thought this would such a funny and cute concept to do, though I don’t know if anybody else has done this! I do know there is fanart of it though, but I actually got inspiration from when Admin Ko and I drunkenly played Uno! one night. It was a disaster lolol!

I hope you like this!

>Admin 𝕋

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

𝐻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒶 𝒮𝒽𝑜𝓎𝑜

Hinata would be the player that would be so lost

Tsuki would’ve told him how to play and he would still have no idea what the fuck he was doing

Would put down the wrong color or number and get obliterated by everyone he is playing with

After awhile, he would think he figured it out, but nah everyone plays him like a fool, and gets him to lose in the first round

he’ll want to cry, because he’s so competitive and all he wanted to do was win

at least he would want to win against kageyama

and when he doesn’t he would literally will want to play round after round until he wins

but once again

he just doesn’t get it

and it’s not even a hard game, like what the hell, man

but he gets anxious and he can’t think

He will literally spike the wrong card into the pile

everyone laughs, Kageyama would smack him upside the head and say something along the lines of “ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION, IS YOUR HEAD SCREWED ON RIGHT LIKE OH MY GOD, HOW DOES ONE EVEN--”

They will start to fight, jumbling all the cards into disarray

and that is when the game is over, and Hinata never played Uno again

It gave him nigthmares lololol

BUT BUT BUT

Hinata would be forced to play another round with everyone on another day they all hangout

And this time, he wins

he actually, and he didn’t even try, no thought process, no strategies, he just went with the flow and actually won

Kageyama would be pissed, Yachi would be proud, Tsukki would be irked and Tadashi would be clapping slowly, all of them surprised that the orange ball of dumbass actually won.

Needless to say, Uno is now Hinata’s favorite game, and he will flaunt his win to everyone who asks

𝘒𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘛𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘰

Okay, so Kageyama would be just like Hinata, but he is better at hiding it

He also has more tact, and can figure out how the game works

But he has the worst of luck when it comes to which cards he gets

and it frustrates him to no end

Because he literally, he has to

continously

pick

cards

to get

THE RIGHT ONE

and he gets so pissed, veins are popping out of his head, the blood going up to his face. Tsuki thinks it’s the most hilarious shit, Hinata thinks he is going to shit himself.

He just wants to win, for god’s sake, but the fucking cards are giving him a run for his money, and they’re being fucking stupid, and not giving him what he wants

He has like half of the freaking deck in his hands!!

And he wants to, you know, not have that!!

and when he finally has a plan to get rid of his cards, Tsukishima smirks condescendingly and nukes him, making Kageyama get more cards from the pile with hIS STUPID REVERSE CARD PLUS FOUR BULLSHIT.

So he comes up with a plan, he’ll just discreetly put two cards down when it was his turn.

For a time, he wouldn’t get caught, but then

then Tsuki sees him, and calls him out on it. “Huh, never knew the king of the court would cheat like that.”

“I’m not cheating--”

“And here I thought you were the fair and square type of guy.”

Hinata would pipe in saying “oh my god, Kageyama, your cheating, how could you??”

“IT’S JUST A STUPID GAME--”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU CHEATING--”

the game would devolve into a game of tag, or Kageyama chasing Hinata around the room while Hinata yells about how Kageyama has anger management issues and should get therapy

after that, Kageyama will have yet to win a game while everybody else does

He would throw the cards on the ground and curse the world for only letting him be good at volleyball

“Yeah, you should really stick to volleyball, you’re obviously bad at everything else”

“TSUKISHIMA, I’M GOING TO BURY YOU IN MY BACKYARD WITH THESE CARDS--”

He’ll get over it

maybe.

𝕋𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕞𝕒 𝕂𝕖𝕚

Ah, tsukishima, this guy would be the worst to play games with

Especially card games

He wouldn’t necessarily want to play a kid’s game, but Yamaguchi convinces him to play, just one game

He can’t really say no to Yama like that, so he agrees, one game

But he’d get oddly into it, man, it won’t show on his face, but he will be the type of guy to want to win, especially against someone like fucking Kageyama

He’d want to peg him down a level, get him off his royal high horse

he’d be the prick that would taunt anybody and everybody, telling them what they should and shouldn’t do

“I don’t know Hinata, that doesn’t seem like the right choice there”

“What, but you don’t know what I’m going to put down???”

“It’s all over your face.”

“Shit, really--”

He’ll uno reverse psychology on these bitches, make them quiver in their metaphorical boots.

And he’ll love how they just don’t know what to put down now, don’t know what is the best play or not,

Kageyama looks pissed

Hinata looks like his brain is steaming

Yachi looks like she’s about to cry

And Yamaguchi is just smiling, happy that Tsuki is having a good time

Yeah, having a good time being a freaking sadist in a freaking kid’s game

Lo and behold, Tsuki wins the round that he agreed to play, and when he puts that last card down, he pulls a smug expression, adjusting his glasses

“Well then, losers, I best be on my way now.”

And just as he is getting up to grab is things, Kageyama will throw a fit and try to fight Tsuki, but Hinata holds him back like a boss

Or like this has happened way too many times

Needless to say, they would never want to play with Tsuki again

Never again

ＹａｍａｇｕｃｈｉＴａｄａｓｈｉ

Bro, Yama will just want to have a good time man

He’d be the one to suggest playing Uno, thinking it would be a good experience

and a great bonding game for the first years

but boy was he wrong

literal chaos all around him

And all he wanted to do was have a nice fun time, getting to know his teammates

but no

NOOOO

THEY JUST HAD TO BE EXTRA ABOUT IT

Tsuki just had to be an ass

Kageyama just had to be competitive

and hinata just had to be a little on the stupid side (we love him for it, no hate to hinata)

it was a mixing pot of anarchy and yamaguchi will just sit there and just watch as the fire grows in front of him

When it is his turn he will just quietly and gently put his card in

and then go back to watching as the three main characters of his life just go into a rampage, and just metaphorically compare dick sizes, in a game of fucking uno

Like damn

this is definitely not what he wanted

He’ll try to get them to calm down, but all three of them would turn around and tell him to either join them or zip it, to which he would sigh and make some popcorn

Cause this was gonna take awhile

Yama would probably look over to Yachi, who looks like she wants to go home, and yeah he couldn’t blame her, and he gives her an apologetic look and shrug

In the end, he unfortunately wouldn’t win, but he is grateful that it all ended

And he goes home

And burns his uno cards

ʏᴀᴄʜɪ ʜɪᴛᴏᴋᴀ

Yo, Yachi????? She’d be the underdog of the group

She would literally use the chaos that is testosterone to her advantage

She would be like a ninja

And she would be so lucky, to have all the good cards that would put the other guys to fucking shame

But she would still be anxious only because the shouting will sometimes escalate and she would lose her train of thought

But that’s okay!

She still wins literally every round she’s in!

And everybody hates her for it!

Death glares from Tsuki

Murderous intent from Kageyama

and just weeping eyes from Hinata, but he’s still mad at her, because he still hasn’t won and yet she did

Yamaguchi would be the only one that is happy for her, and she feels a connection with him on that

Yachi would feel bad, but at the same time

Yes!

She won!

And with these guys, that are so good at things likes sports and academics(only tsuki here, and sometimes Yamaguchi)???

It’s a huge win for her!

The next time they play, she would use the same strategy, and will again win everytime

Until eventually, they all kick her out of the game, thinking she is cheating

She gives them her best puppy dog eyes, and tell him she wasn’t cheating (she never really was), and they’ll give in

They let her play again

Until she wins

and that is the final straw for them, their egos bruised and their pride gone

They leave, the cards abandoned, and go wallow in the courtyard

“Uh, guys? Who’s gonna clean this up?”

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revchainsaw · 3 years

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Bumblebee (2018)

Good Evening worshippers, and welcome! Today the Cult of Cult goes a little more mainstream than usual. It's been a while since i've tackled a big Hollywood superhero film. But I do believe that these sorts of films will be remembered fondly my small groups of people in the future, especially the smaller films that are being overshadowed by the big bad MCU, films like 2018s Bumblebee.

The Messsage

Bumblebee was originally released as a prequel to the Transformers franchise that had started all the way back in 2007. However, reboots had really hit the market as a way to breath new life into struggling franchises, and the Transformers series had already gone to just about every absurd extreme you could imagine. No changes were made to the movie as it was released, but with it's more childish and heartfelt tone, and a new aesthetic that was softer, smoother, and all around just generally more pleasing to the eye, I think it was a wise choice to rebrand Bumblebee as a new beginning.

Our story is of two friends from two very different worlds and how they came together. Our first character is Bumblebee, then known as B- number sign/it doesn't really matter. Not yet Bumblebee is a soldier set with securing a safe location for the Autobots to regroup and make their home as they suffer a pretty serious defeat on cybertron at the hands of the tyrannical Decepticons. Optimus Prime, here again voiced by Peter Cullen and looking so much more like himself, assigns this task to Bumblebee promising him that they will meet him there when the time comes. Then Optimus fucks off for the rest of the run time making way for our little hero.

Bumblebee lands on Earth and is immediately set upon by John Cena and his military goon squad. It probably would have been wise for Bumblebee to avoid John Cena but in his defense, he couldn't see him. Hardy har har. In his attempt to flee his voice box is damaged, he seeks sanctuary by taking the form of a run down little VW bug, and suffers from amnesia.

Then we have Charlie. Charlie is not like other girls. She likes cars, all the retro music, which wasn't retro when the movie takes place, so I'm supposed to just think she's a rocker but it kinda seems like she'll listen to just about anything. I think in 2018 liking Motorhead and The Smiths (who are used ad nauseum in this movie) is perfectly common, but I feel like in the 80s that was a much different and much older attitude to take.

Anyway Charlie's poor family lives in a super fucking nice house and are poor because the dialogue keeps insisting they are so it must be true despite all the shit they have that actually poor people would sell blood and teeth to attain, but hell, this is Hollywood and Hollywood poor is like regular people upper middle class. Charlies family is so poor that instead of giving her a one time graduation/birthday present to buy a part for a car she already has, they just give her a moped, She also spends all her time at a pull apart where the manager (who might be her uncle that wasn't super clear) is willing to just give her a Volkswagen so I don't understand why she didn't already have the project car up and running. Whatever, it's a plot contrivance. All you need to know is that Charlie is tenacious and hard around the edges cuz her dad is dead and she's not yet mature enough to process that in a healthy way. Maybe her character arch will teach her to let others in, we'll have to find out.

There's also a wacky nerd named Memo, and some bad guys, and John Cena. They are all also pretty archetypal and contrived and don't really do anything of note that isn't just filling a beat that this kind of movie needs to walk. Charlie starts Bumblebee up, discovers he's a robot and the two begin to bond. Charlie learns to make a friend, and bumblebee is learning about himself. They get into hijinks and get revenge on a bully girl who makes Regina George look like a saint, she pretty much only picks on Charlie exclusively for having a dead dad.

The moment Bumblebee is woken back up, some technology goof em up that both he and Charlie are unaware of brings two Decepticon baddies into the picture. I don't remember their names, but since I love The Venture Brothers let's say they can be "Jet Boy and Jet Girl". Jet Boy and Jet Girl are sometimes cars, sometimes various flying military vehicles, and they make friends with the deep state and plan to get all the adrenochrome from all the orphans, or just to go find Bumblebee and beat his ass good cuz their bad guys. Let me tell y'all though, Jet Boy and Jet Girl are so bad that they don't even care that the government is listening when they reveal that they are planning on bringing a Decepticon Invasion and after they rough up Bumblebee real good they are going to destroy all life on this planet. So they start by killing a military scientist.

John Cena is after Bumblebee and he's homies with Jet Boy and Jet Girl until the military scientist butt dials him and he hears the evil plan. John Cena goes from heel to face and helps Bumblebee and Charlie save the day. It's a giant CG clusterfuck climax a la any superhero film in the last 10 years and I basically stopped watching. BumbleBee pulls a Hellraiser on Jet Boy, and then he hits Jet Girl with a freaking boat. Charlie uses her diving skills do dive down and save him, but he's a Giant Robot and he was okay and it was literally pointless for her to to except as a way to show that her character has completed her arch by doing the thing that was representative of her connection with her lost father.

Bumblebee turns into the Camaro from the first movie, meets up with Optimus prime, and the stage is set for this prequel to squeeze more prequels out. So it wasn't very creative, but was it bad? Let's find out.

Please Stand to receive the Benediction.

Best Aspect: Transform the Franchise

Bumblebee was directed by Travis Knight of Laika fame and it shows. This movie marks a stylistic change in the transformers franchise, as in it doesn't look like utter dog shit, but it also represents in many ways a tonal shift. It does hold on to a lot of gross sleaze that has unfortunately been forcibly jammed into the DNA of the franchise but it also attempts to be a more heartfelt entry. The characters of Bumblebee might all be sort of a waste of time, but at least they are doing something with emotions, even if the emotions of the characters are only explored as deeply as a children's cartoon I'm glad they are there. In the previous installments the only thing the characters did between running from action piece to seizure inducing action piece was drool over underage girls like a bunch of chimpanzees at the facility where they test experimental E.D. meds. It was nice to see that at least somewhat tampered. This transformers movie feels more like it's for kids and young teenagers, and strangely that more friendly tone makes for a much less juvenile product.

Worst Aspect: Remember I Love the 80s from the 2000s

I hope you really like Stranger Things. I do, but because Stranger Things was so successful it' s going to be everywhere. Not true Stranger Things just 80s nostalgia porn. This 80s nostalgia is going to be forced on you whether you like it or not, and it's not going to be fun. It's gonna be in your shows, in your music, in your Sunday like Bacon in 2010. It's that or Marvel Franchise Brand Whedonisms. Bumblebee is that brave movie that says, "Why not both?" It would seem fitting that a property as quintessentially 80s as Transformers should feel completely comfortable doing a period piece set in the 80's but it's so fucking half hearted it's depressing. It wasn't done to appreciate the roots of the IP, it was done to cash in on a trend and it feels it. All they did was throw up a date and insufferably force an 80s soundtrack down your throat as if that was enough to convince you that this movie needed to be set during this time. Other than that you could have told me this film was set in 2007 and I couldn't tell you any different.

Best Character: Charlie's an Angel

I liked Charlie. Sure her Arc is predictable, her taste is dumb, and she isn't exactly a master of her own destiny to any degree. But at least she is a woman in a transformers movie who's got something going on. Sure she's defined entirely by grief, but that sure is better than pretending that being able to work on cars is a feminist character trait instead of a weird fetish thing. They certainly do that thing with Charlie, but at least it's not the only thing they throw at the wall. Bumblebee is by no means out of the woods in this department, but it garners a lot of goodwill for trying. Like a racist uncle who just started his journey out of ignorance, but hasn't yet realized he has to stop asking mortifying questions to the barista at Starbucks. Okay, maybe that's an extreme metaphor. I'm saying that perhaps Charlie is not a great character but she's a great character for a Transfomers movie.

Worst Character: It's JOOOOHHHNNNN CEEEENA!!!!

Why is John Cena in this movie? I don't hate the guy, but his character seems pointless. You could remove him from the movie completely and replace him with any one of the random military goons at any point and it changes nothing. What was with that dumb salute at the end? It seems like they put him in this movie in post and it was just to pump up cast list. I wish he was given anything to work with. I can't remember his characters name, and it's not like John Cena did a bad job, I was just annoyed every time they kept giving him hero shots. I felt like I was watching a trailer for a different movie.

Best Actor: Optimal Primo!

Every time Peter Cullen speaks I want to listen. There's a reason they haven't had Chris Pratt or somebody with a bigger name come in and take over the role at this point. He's why the audience keep coming back. Peter Cullen IS Optimus Prime, and there's no changing that. He also wins twice. He's the best actor in the movie AND he's barely in the movie. Good call Peter.

Worst Actor: Mean Girls 2, Meaner and Girlier

I don't want to be cruel so I'm not going to go into to much detail, but there's an actress in this film who's performance is so mustache twirlingly evil and stupid that it ruined my suspension of disbelief when i knew going in that i was about to endure a 2 hour toy commercial about robots that turn into cars. Beldar Conehead was a more convincing human being than Tina.

Best Effect: Goo Be Gone

I really appreciated when the bad guys shot the government nerd into a blast of snot. That was pretty fun for me. Best part of the movie hands down.

Worst Effect: Live Action?

Bumblebee is a cartoon. It's a great looking cartoon but it doesn't sell itself that way. If we were doing a Roger Rabbit thing I'd have no gripes. However, I think CG is just getting worse. I'm criticizing this and it's still lightyears better than the previous entry's on the franchise. No transformation or fight sequence in Bumble Bee had me straining to make sense of what I was looking at. I think it was a great idea to start using some basic shapes and outlines to these characters, and return somewhat to their 80s designs. But at certain points, especially when there were no humans in the shot, i was pretty convinced I was watching Clone Wars. There may not be anyway around this, as the Transformers concept might not be able to be pulled off in any more effective manner. It's a minor gripe, but I just didn't think it looked like anything other than a very expensive cartoon, and in this franchise that's a compliment, because it least it looked like SOMETHING!

Best Scene: Space Opera

I am not a Transformers fan. I missed the boat on the cartoon as a kid. I would sometimes catch it at friends houses but I was more into Batman, Star Wars, and Ninja Turtles. By the time I came onto the scene the world had moved on to Beast Wars. I did one day arbitrarily decide that my favorite Transformer was Sound Wave. He looked great in this. I am a big fan of the return to form with a lot of the character designs in this. They really did keep the things that worked from the other adaptations, and they are steadily removing the things that didn't. For this reason, the scenes on Cybertron, particularly the battle with Soundwave (i prefer for personal reasons) looked great and were exciting to watch. I remember thinking Cybertron used to look like a Marilyn Manson shot a music video from inside to dumpster. This is so much better.

Worst Scene: Blocking the Box

There's a scene in Bumblebee where Charlie's family decides the best way to save their daughter was to cause a pile up of vehicles in an intersection, and it's pure contrived writing that saved any character in that sequence from being killed in a horrific traffic accident. It was stupid, played for laughs, and it wasn't exciting as much as it was anxiety inducing. I also thought that there was no reason the covert military group covering up extraterrestrial life wouldn't just disappear this family of fucking morons in their little piece of shit car. The logic of the scene was just so childish like, "No they won't hit me, I'm a good person."

Summary

Bumblebee may be remembered fondly in a decade. I think especially if the Transformers franchise were to end here. It didn't get the publicity of the other films, and that really is a shame. For my money, this was the best Transformers movie so far. I was very tempted to give Bumblebee a C, it does just enough to right what was wrong from the other movies to make me appreciate all that work. This movie has heart, and if you are at all into Transformers then l think you should see it. It's still pretty stupid, and pretty basic. It's not offering anything new to the genre, and it feels like a commercial for more movies. I really wish we could just get movies that want to tell a story. I thought it over and decided that it wasn't fair not to grade Bumblebee on it's own merits. Bumblebee is substantially better than the films that preceded it, but that's not saying a lot, when the films that preceded it are joyless exercises in self abuse.

Overall Grade: D

#Transformers #Bumblebee #Optimus Prime #Action #Adventure #Car #Super Hero #Robot #Scifi #Grade D #D #Grade: D #2018 #2010s #(D)

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k-i-ssmyash · 3 years

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Pls I would love to hear your analysis on why those mitski songs fit each iz boy (feel free to ignore this but if you'd like do tell bcs I think it is interesting B) )

Oh buddy you've made a mistake. You'd love to hear the analysis? Well I love to talk; I hope your ready for the absolute word vomit and rambling that's under the cut. But yeah, no, i'll never turn down asks like this! Interact with me! I'm but a simple, lonely tumblr hermit.

Let's start off with the first post containing Zim and referencing A Pearl. I tie this song in with his (fandom assumed) character development and how it effects both his mental state, Dib, and his ideology of the Irken Empire as a whole. In a way, I think a lot of us over-sympathize or find common ground with our alien and it prompts us to victimize him and excuse a lot of his actions. And for good reasons honestly? It's easy to do so consider that he was born under the rule of a tyrannical society where flaws are looked down upon. He does wrong but to him it's not exactly wrong, is it? It's unfair to judge him and scrutinize him the same way we do humans. The show is slap-stick at it's core and despite the grim and black-humor based undertones, not much is taken seriously. Although it often ends up in failure, everything he attempts to do is to better the empire, to receive recognition from the beings they hail to about the same degree as a deity. The long and short of it is that he wants to make the Tallest happy. To prove that he's worth their time and that he can live up to everything he dreamed he could be, but the truth is that he can't. He loves the people that hate him the most. It's an abusive relationship at it's finest, really. So he picks up the most unhealthy coping mechanism: Denial. He can't accept the fact that he's a fake invader, or that his Tallest weren't coming to Earth, because it would genuinely destroy him. And why wouldn't it? Pleasing his superiors and contributing to the hive-collective is encoded in him. It's all he's ever known. I specifically chose the given lines "(It's just that) I fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended-" because that's the back-bone of Zim's character. You can take it both literally and metaphorically if you'd like. He's invader Zim. He likes being an invader because it gives him a purpose. The Tallest give him a fake mission and play into his delusion of doing good and being someone important (of being loved, even) and never truly hammer in the fact that he's exiled--not counting the unaired episode or the bit of commentary mumbled under the Tallests breath-- because they find the situation funny to an extent. (also, what gets me just in general with it is that Zim thinks that people like him but he's actually just one big joke and ow goddamn it my feelings) Main lyric(s) out of the way there I similarly associate the song to Zim's uh 'character redemption' so to say. I think he'd struggle to become accustomed to Earth and the fact that he doesn't have to rely on commands to live his life. I relate the line(s): "You're getting tired of me (and all of the things I don't talk about) / You love me so hard and I still can't sleep / It's not that I don't want you / It's not that I don't want your touch / There's a hole that you fill" With his relationship with Dib-- platonic, romantic, whatever-- and the general give and take of it all. He'd like to assimilate and believe in the freedom given by living on Earth. He wants it and in a way Dib provides the stability he needs there and it would be so, so, easy to give in to it. But he can't because the Empire continues to loom over him and his day-to-day life. As it's been proven, without Dib there to provoke Zim, the little alien falls into a depression, not unlike the one he fell into in Enter The Florpus when he saw the truth in his mission. Dib is his substitute, essentially. (there's something to be said with that relationship and how I view it but this is already dragging on and this is only the first analysis, so maybe another time.) And lastly, I'd like to think that the Pearl the song is eluding to can be compared to Zim's PAK. The whole 'Pearls are parasites that live inside of mollusks' bit can relate to the PAK and it's purpose. But I see it more in the sense that the PAK is the second brain, a computer memory drive that grants Zim access to the memories he can't bring himself to forget or delete. I.e., "And it left a pearl in my hand / And i roll it around every night just to watch it glow /

Every night, baby, that's where I go" Every time he takes a step forward, he takes two back because he just can't let go of what he knows (the Empire).

--- As for Dib and I Bet On Losing Dogs, well, it's a little more complicated and I'm still not entirely sure of my break-down here because there's so many layers to apply. Originally when I started messing around with this idea, it was going to be centered on Membrane "My baby, you're my baby, say it to me" and him loving Dib despite his flaws. And I still think it could apply. While Dadbrane doesn't support Dib's paranormal bull-shit, and he shouldn't considering the lengths Dib goes through to prove it (bus hoping, obsessive behavior, the fucking trench-coat) he does support and love his son despite the absentness. Hence the "I bet on losing dogs" and you know, Dadbrane just being there to pick him up and have his back when he really needs to. But then we get to the last line of the first verse. "Tell your baby that I'm your baby" To which Dib, in all of his edgy glory, decided to stick his big-head in to my thought process. I saw it as Dib wishing that Membrane would pick him over Science. Kind of a plea for attention? Like: Put your work away, I know you love it but you need to love me more. Dib has got to have the biggest hero-complex out of everyone in the show. He also has an inferiority-complex that compels him to try and prove himself. Quite frankly, and pun fully intended, he is the underdog. The odds are always against him and he almost never comes out victorious in the end, in that way, I feel like Dib himself is the loosing dog. His belief in the supernatural is the loosing dog. No one will ever believe him, "I bet on losing dogs / I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place" but he's too stubborn to give up. Even if he's mocked and ridiculed he would never stop trying to prove himself correct and would continue to stick to his guns. "I'll be there on their side / I'm losing by their side" He ostracizes himself from his peers by not letting belief go. He is purposely sabotaging his chance of being seen as someone other than the crazy kid.

That being said, the next line is where his Hero-complex comes back into play. "Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down" in Enter the Florpus, his sworn enemy was in a funk that he knew all too well. Sure, in the end he wanted to use Zim for his own gain, but before that he sympathized with him. And in a way, he possibly wouldn't know how to act if he ever did actually succeed? I couldn't help but think that Dib, who has always lost wouldn't feel like exposing Zim would be a win? He'd miss the fight. Dib would miss the struggle of being beaten down only to rise up when he finally gets some sort of substantial evidence: "I wanna feel it / I bet on losing dogs" he hopes that Zim will come up with something big and bad not because he wants him to win either, but because then Dib has something to fight against. Along with that, the one time Dib actually broke away from paranormal to go along with his father's wishes he was absolutely miserable. He was successful. He made his father happy, he could have made something out of his life but he couldn't; the appeal of Zim and their on-going stalemate was too much to resist-- "I always want you when I'm finally fine / Someone to watch me die" -- Dib is ruining himself by obsessing over the truth and Zim would be going down, right there with him. ahaha, that was a lot wasn't it? It probably didn't make sense either as it's just my personal rambling here, but I'd be interested to hear your thoughts and opinions on it all.

#smoke break #Ash Answers #invader zim #mitski

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Tobor the Great

This was a movie YouTube thought I ought to watch. It’s so bad even Leonard Maltin didn’t like it.

Two scientists, Dr. Harrison and Dr. Nordstrom, are concerned about the effects of space travel on the human body, and so they attempt to convince the Civil Interplanetary Flight Commission (think NASA, but with funding) to use an alternative form of test pilot. No, sit down, dog- and monkey-lovers in the audience, I’m talking about a huge, unwieldy, unnecessarily humanoid robot! Obviously, foreign agents want to steal this machine and turn it into a huge, unwieldy weapon instead of a huge, unwieldy astronaut, but Nordstrom’s grandson Brian saves the day using his special telepathic link with Tobor!

The movie does not believe we’re smart enough to figure out why the robot’s name is Tobor. It spells it out for us, literally and on more than one occasion.

Tobor the Great is a children’s movie – the main character is eleven-year-old Brian, who is mostly addressed by his nickname, Gadget or Gadge. He’s established as an engineering genius in his own right, who gets to hang around in his grandfather’s lab and make friends with this cool robot. He’s what every white American boy in the 50’s was supposed to want to be. All of which makes it sort of weird that we don’t meet him until nearly fifteen minutes into the movie.

Consider some better children’s movies. In Coco, Miguel is the literal as well as the metaphorical narrator – we begin with his voice telling us the backstory. Lilo and Stitch gives us one title character almost immediately, and then brings in the second as quickly as it can to get us to the point where they meet. Of course, you don’t have to introduce the main character first in a movie, but if you’re going to put it off you have to do it skillfully. Star Wars takes its time getting around to Luke Skywalker, but it’s already given us somebody to follow in the form of C-3P0 and R2-D2, who make good audience proxies because 3P0 doesn’t know what’s going on any more than we do. Tobor the Great lets nearly a quarter of its running time go by before we finally meet Gadge, and even more before we get to Tobor himself, and that time is spent setting up what seems to be a rather different movie.

The opening does establish the need for Tobor, but it takes way too long about it. We start with narration and stock footage about the American space program, which is as deathly boring as it always is in these movies. Maybe it seemed more exciting in the fifties, when space rockets were the coolest thing around. Then we get into Dr. Harrison and his complaints about unsafe practices, which lead to his resignation and to him trying to dodge the press before meeting the likeminded Dr. Nordstrom.

These seem like strange things to put in a children’s movie. I feel that a lot more time is spent justifying the need for a robotic astronaut than is really necessary, and the early close focus on Dr. Harrison makes it seem like he’s going to be our main character – but he fades into the background once we get to Dr. Nordstrom’s lab and at the end he’s not much more than a completely unnecessary love interest for Gadge’s widowed mother. In Star Wars the two droids stick around and participate in the plot for the whole movie – Dr. Harrison doesn’t. The politicking within the CIFC is not something children are likely to be interested in, nor is the nagging newspaper man, and all of these scenes are just guys in suits talking. Very little actually happens and none of it involves robots carrying off beautiful women like the poster shows us!

The annoying reporter is a particularly odd inclusion. His name is Mr. Gilligan, which Joel and the ‘bots would have found hilarious. I went into Tobor the Great totally blind, having never heard of it when the thumbnail appeared in my YouTube recommendations, but if I’d read a plot summary or something beforehand, maybe I wouldn’t have expected Gilligan to play a major role in the plot. As it was, I figured he was either a Soviet spy or would unintentionally pass information on to them – but he vanishes after the first press conference, and the question of whether he has the right to compromise national security in the name of selling newspapers is never dealt with. Instead the spies are a bunch of guys we’ve never seen before.

Once all this is over with, though, we do finally get to see Tobor strut his stuff. Nordstrom and Harrison work on programming him to do things like type reports to be sent back to Earth and dodge meteor showers (as all 50’s space rockets had to do), while Gadge sits and watches… and does very little else. You’d think this part of the movie would continue the thread of Gadge being the equal of the adult scientists, maybe overlapping with him and Tobor bonding, but there’s almost none of either. Why set up Gadge as a prodigy if you’re not going to make use of it? At the climax we expect Gadge to save the day by figuring something out, as he showed he could do earlier. Instead he just shuts his eyes and thinks really hard at Tobor, like Ichi trying to summon Gamera. It works, but it’s not as satisfying as it could have been. At the end the movie has neatly avoided almost all of its potential and anything that might have been cool to watch, and failed to give us anything it seemed to promise.

To make things even worse, Gadge is played by one of those insanely cloying 50’s child actors who say things like “oh, gosh!” and “gee whillikers!” I cannot imagine anybody actually talking like this. Actor Billy Chaplin sure makes it sound fake as hell. While Chaplin is a decent actor physically, everything he says sounds stilted and unnatural, like he’s reading it off notes while trying to project his voice to a full auditorium. The adult actors are much better, which just makes Chaplin look all the worse by comparison.

Tobor, on the other hand, is wonderful, in the ‘stupid cardboard movie robot’ way that makes Torg from Santa Claus Conquers the Martians and the delightfully awful robot of Devil Girl from Mars so much fun. It’s got lots of blinky lights and moving parts, and stamps around with a pretty convincing sense of weight. Unlike some movie robots it actually moves at a good clip when it wants to, perhaps helped by the fact that it has working knees. The movie makes the point that Tobor is a large and dangerous piece of kit at the same time as it’s able to be gentle and dexterous, which reinforces the idea that it would be frightening as a weapon.

My favourite part is when Tobor drives a car. I wonder if the guy in the costume could see anything. That must have been a hell of a day on set.

What you want me to get back to, though, is the bit where the robot is psychic. Yes, that’s actually the premise of this movie, a telepathic robot! I’m not sure how plausible that would have seemed in the 50’s, even in such an explicitly silly movie. Dr. Nordstrom doesn’t expect the reporters to believe in it without a demonstration, and yet the same decade also produced films like The She-Creature that present such ideas with an entirely straight, albeit incompetent, face. Psychic powers as hard-ish sci-fi seems to have gone out of style by the 90’s, and nowadays it sounds like something you’d see in the Weekly World News.

Man, I miss the hard copy Weekly World News. It was so nice to have that little isle of humour in the sea of garbage that was (and still is) the supermarket tabloids. Remember Hilary Clinton’s space-alien lover? Classic.

The function of telepathy in this story is not just to give Gadge a way to summon the robot after the spies break Nordstrom’s control mechanism. It is also a means whereby Tobor may acquire human traits and emotions. How to make a robot feel things is a perennial problem in science fiction… a lot of the time the mechanism is simply glossed over, as an artificial intelligence becomes more human by interacting with humans. Emotions are just chemicals in our brains, though, and the more we learn about how they work, the harder it gets to justify a machine feeling them. In Star Trek: the Next Generation Data and Lore have a special bit of hardware that must be installed to enable emotions, and really seem like they’re better off without it. In Saturn 3, Hector has a processor made of cloned brain cells that can produce their own chemistry, as well as a direct neural uplink to its programmer.

As such solutions go, I actually kind of like how Tobor the Great goes about it, even if the mechanism is silly. Rather than having emotions of its own, Tobor senses and mirrors those of the humans around it. When Gadge is panicking, worrying that Tobor is out of control, Tobor panics and goes around smashing things, thus making for a self-fulfilling prophecy. When Gadge thinks of Tobor as a hero, the robot comes to his rescue, carrying him to safety like a rescued princess, and responds to the anger and rage of the spies by turning these emotions back on them and beating them up. This is quite different from many ‘emotional machine’ stories, in that it doesn’t actually require Tobor to be in any way self-aware.

Unfortunately the movie is not very consistent about this. There’s a scene in which Tobor gets frustrated and breaks stuff after being put through too challenging a simulation, which does imply that the robot has an intelligence and emotional capacity of its own. This bit has a purpose, as it serves to make us worry that Tobor will be unable to tell the difference between friend and foe at the finale, but it just doesn’t fit with the way this machine is treated in the rest of the movie.

Like many others both from MST3K and from the Episodes that Never Were, Tobor the Great has a couple of good ideas at its core. It even predicted how much easier and safer it is to send robots into space than people, although those robots don’t look much like the lumbering humanoids of 50’s sci-fi. Sadly, the film is uneven, rushed, and poorly-acted, and nothing particularly fun or exciting happens in it. Various people over the years have seen its potential and Tobor has starred in a couple of comic books and an unproduced TV pilot, but these never went anywhere either.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #tobor the great #50s #tobor is robot spelled backwards

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eternal-aegis · 4 years

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waiting for godot - 🔬 / 🎵 / 🎁 - because damn, i still have feelings! also, right back at you: HOW DO YOU DO IT OMFG?

Ah!!! LOL it’s the one (1) fic I have finished for BSD, everything else is a disaster. I do it with an intense focus on shoving as many layers of symbolism and angst as I can fit into this bad boy!! <3 <3 <3

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Fic: Waiting for Godot

"It must be killing you," Dazai smiles, "not being able to decide whether we are alive and in a world where you wrote in the Book, not knowing it would interpret your vision as a request to erase all of humanity, or whether we are both dead, and somehow, we are each other's personal Hell."

🔬- Was there one scene you were building up to/knew you had to get just right?

I was both struggling and looking forward to making Dazai and Beckett interact in the second chapter. WFG used comparisons and contrasts as the underlying concept, so Dostoyevsky represents what Dazai could have been and is the opposite of what Dazai is now. Beckett, however, exists as a kindred spirit for Dazai. I got the vibe from all of my reading and Wikipedia research that his character in the BSD ‘verse would be someone who was also on this path to redemption (possibly someone who was in the Great War, but I digress). He’s a bit further along than Dazai, but I think he hit a slump before the events of the fic. I really wanted to get it right and I wanted to continue that theme of parallels, which is why I spent some time thinking about the mechanics of both of their abilities. Beckett’s is weird, a bit like Lovecraft’s, so that’s my *jazz hands* explanation for it. I wanted to end the fic with two kindred spirits going separately on their own ‘roads’ to redemption.

🎵- Did you have a playlist/piece of music that went with this story?

So, I looked back at my YouTube logs from the day I wrote the first chapter. I spent most of my time listening to CrashCourse philosophy (the Existentialism video, in particular) and I also listened to/watched a lot of videos on Waiting for Godot itself and Samuel Beckett. But, I do have two songs that go with this: “Weight of the World” and “Dear Fellow Traveler”, for the first and the second chapters respectively.

“Weight of the World” is a hypocrite’s song. It’s throwing the blame for a person’s actions at “well, that’s just how the world is” but also acknowledging that everyone will be the weak and the weary some time. People use the weight of the world as an excuse for their actions. Also, the line, “the long-forgotten have a habit of collecting loans,” just...strikes at me, for WFG. And for Dostoyevsky and his, “I was justified in every decision that I made.”

“Dear Fellow Traveler” is a bit more light and I just interpreted it as two travelers wishing each other well on the road. And with Dazai and Chuuya having gained a bit more understanding, and Dazai’s conversation with Beckett, it felt right and reminiscent enough. “And I returned to my beautiful city. Black skies change into blue,” is the peace of returning to Yokohama after the big bad threat is ‘dealt with,’ and the two parallel’d characters of Dazai and Beckett thinking of the kindred spirit that’s out there, in a way, as they continue their journeys. It’s mostly Beckett’s theme song, now that I think about it.

🎁- Any writing advice for people who want to write something like this?

This was a philosophy fic that I started with no direction other than making Dazai and Dostoyevsky have a conversation on a road, based solely off of being two minutes into this video. I just got a vibe, and then I delved into research, which helped inform my decisions when I wrote it. I’m always looking for more media that vibes with me so I can consume it. When I write, I’m constantly evaluating both the emotions of the scene and the symbols that I use. I had to think about this fic in two layers, because Dazai and Dostoyevsky are so intelligent that I had to think of the surface and then the underlying meaning, and I was thinking of how cryptic their chess match looks in the current arc.

So, what I’d suggest is letting yourself write to the vibe of your scene, if that makes sense. I follow the emotional threads and how a person’s thoughts would flow when I write, letting myself get immersed in the scene.

I also had a lot of broad concepts: parallels, deicide, redemption, and I suppose what I’d call ‘forces that you can’t control.’ For each of those concepts, I tried to tie a person or object to them.

Parallels: I just made sure I had the characters who I thought were good comparisons interact with each other strongly (Dazai & Dostoyevsky, Dazai & Chuuya, Dazai & Beckett, Atsushi & Akutagawa), and also tried to subtly do comparisons in the prose.

Deicide: it got lampshaded pretty heavily with Dostoyevsky talking about Chuuya, but it was also the entire underlying vibe of the fic. Dostoyevsky’s plan to rid the world of abilities is pretty Godlike. I think there’s a good piece of meta out there about Dostoyevsky and his whole God/Devil motif. So, by letting him get eaten stranding him on the road, narratively speaking, that was a deicide.

Redemption: that was much easier. I just tied the road to it a lot, the actual one in the fic. Dazai was literally standing on the road to redemption. Also, I was thinking just a bit about the road being morality and the grass being immorality. Y’know, the untamed grass, unchecked/nonexistent morals. Roads have rules, yadda yadda. You’re bound to morals.

Forces that can’t be controlled: I just did the concept of hunger and tied it to how Dazai and Beckett’s abilities worked. Cause you can’t control hunger, and...you’re not you when you’re hungry XD. And I kept that feeling of...some forces in the world, you can’t control, and that’s okay. It’s all about how you react to them. The world is senseless, but you’re the master of your fate, captain of your soul and such. Existentialism, yo. Make your own meaning in life out of the nonsense.

I suggest thinking of themes and what digs at the core of the character, and then figuring out how you want to try to display that with symbolism, metaphors, and their interactions. This was less of a ship-fic and more of a philosophical exploration for me, so I was very selective with the words and descriptions I used in order to achieve that effect. I do the horrible thing where I edit as I write, and then I just upload ASAP, because I can’t just put something down and come back to it later, that’s excruciating for my writing process.

TLDR; expose yourself to random things and look for what you enjoy in media; write to the emotional vibe of a scene; and figure out your broad concepts and associate symbols with them, in addition to making sure the narrative itself reinforces them. Think of the overall message you want to deliver with what you’re writing. Also research, lots of that.

Pheww...I always love getting to do fic discussions and analysis! Thank you so much, Dani!!! I hope that this answers the q’s and is entertaining to read through for everyone.

#fic meta #text post #answered ask #fanfiction #Waiting for Godot #cyanoscarlet #personal

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ultrakeystotheheartblog · 5 years

Text

Not So Alone (Part 2) (Teen Titans x Reader)

Part 2 of 2

Request: Requested by multiple people.

“Uhm, your teen titans imagine was?? so great?? I would totally love a sequel omg (only if u want obv)”

“Omg please I just read the fic and want a sequel too so badddd you don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’d be super hype to see it and read and scream because the first parts great” - @laneygthememequeen

A/N: I’m back! I’m not dead! And I am definitely going to write an update some time soon to explain everything that’s happened, but for right now I’m just gonna go ahead and say thank you again for all the positive comments and support that the first part received. I wasn’t expecting so many people to enjoy it, so I was over the moon at the response. With that said, I hope you all enjoy this part too ♥♥♥

(PS: This was the imagine that got the most votes, so the final part for my Jason Todd fic will be coming next! And, uh, It’s already turning out like a novel guys, prepare yourselves).

Warning: Swearing. Little bit of angst, but mostly a whole lot of fluff.

*********************************************************************************

You can’t help but feel that something is not quite right today.

Things are quiet.

Too quiet.

There’s no bouncing music or flashing video games, no arguing, no laughing, no daily echoes of training or disastrous calamities unfolding in the kitchen. No doting, friendly teammates to regale you with their presence (as what’s been the norm for the past few weeks while you’ve begrudgingly, slowly, began to heal from your injuries). No, the Tower is practically, for lack of a better or less ironic term, dead. And has been for most of the day—a husk of boredom and loneliness and one too many pieces of cold, leftover pizza.

Not to mention that looming cloud that’s followed over your head, a suspicious kind of quiet that’s been pressing in all around you like a swarm of invisible hands, seeping into the very foundation of the room. It’s been keeping you teetering on the edge of a pinpoint for literal hours—your fight or flight response practically grinding its teeth in preparation for an inevitable...something. And all the while you sink further into the entertainment room’s monstrous, curved couch and try to focus on ‘relaxing’.

Ha.

You’d be more relaxed if you knew where everyone disappeared to.

But alas, you do not—no matter how much the urge to snoop is (and you so want to snoop), because that’s not what friends do. At least, you think it’s not. You have to admit, it’s been a long time since you’ve considered anyone a friend, but you’re trying. Trying to let go of the past. Trying to be vulnerable. To be good. To be open. And you very much find yourself liking all the ensuing, chaotic changes in your life recently. But you’re rusty and unsure, and always, always, waiting for some other shoe to drop.

You don’t want it to.

You really don’t want it to.

But sometimes you wonder if it would give you some sort of relief from all the waiting—if that metaphorical shoe just got it over with already and put its ugly, metaphorical foot down. So you could breathe without all this pinchy, backwards kind of guilt you’ve been storing up inside for years, waiting to finally punch out into the world like a nest of angry wasps. Like you should feel bad for wanting to be a part of something....something more.

You’ve always hated just waiting for something to happen. But here you are now; alone, completely over-thinking the meaning of life, and left to stew in a concoction of sulky feelings that leaves you nauseous in a way you’ve worked so hard to forget.

So.

With your sore legs propped up onto the coffee table for comfort, you just continue to glare at the blank TV screen and watch your faded reflection in the shine of the glass, biting bitterly into the last of the pizza crust from the plate balanced in your lap.

ZuZu (as declared by Star the morning you’d first woken up—words tripping in a rush of excitement and a stream of breathless chatter about some sort of inspiration from an earth movie—while she gently sits the little creature into your lap with a ceremonious flourish of her arms) flops onto their belly to find a more comfortable position beside you.

Their front legs tuck underneath their bulk, long, spiked tail curling around their body in looping circles, before they come to rest their head on your hip, staring intensely at the leftover crust between your fingers.

They’re about the size of a small dog, heavy and wide, with the hybrid body structure of some sort of lizard and a...well, a bear. Their face is coated in silky auburn fur, snout ridged and twitchy, large heavy-lidded, expressive pink eyes set deep in their sockets. The majority of their torso and back legs are scaled and shiny, while three stripes of that autumn colored fur zigzag down their back, their front legs thick and capped with massive fuzzy paws and hooked dark claws. But the most distinctive features are the large, pleated creases of skin which usually lay folded back against their head and neck.

A frill, like you remember seeing once, adorning a lizard from some travelling petting zoo. It’s supported by long spines of cartilage connected to each side of their jaw bone, and when spread to encircle the entirety of their head, is lined in pink and filled with bright orange scales.

Beast Boy called it a ‘deimatic display’ that first day, a behavior or reaction of patterns and colors used like a defensive bluff—akin to beady eyes on the back of a moth’s wings or selective changes in the body pattern of a cuttlefish—manipulated to startle, display a warning, or distract predators. But it seems ZuZu is able to use it a bit differently—a slight alien twist to the reaction, which allows them to communicate solely through a language formed by varying flashes and multitudes of color.

You’ve all been scrambling to figure out the meanings behind each display lately, trading yes or no questions with the creature at any given point throughout the day, before documenting any noticeable details in the Tower’s staggering, inexhaustible database.

Red, you’ve found quickly, suggests that they’re annoyed, or angry, or generally, exceedingly, unhappy about something. Yellow, on the other hand, simply implies content in the most peaceful sense. And pink? That’s become their version of taunting—something smug and annoyingly self-assured, which seems to be their more….colourful version of resting bitch face.

You grunt at the heavy weight of ZuZu’s head as it presses more firmly against bruised muscles and skin, hidden away beneath the cozy, cotton sweatpants you’d wrestled from the bottom of your closet. It doesn’t keep you from slipping deeper though, into the clouded memories shrouding that first dreamlike morning after finally waking.

Robin—grinning, more relaxed then you’d ever seen him, and already lying back in his spot beside you on the bed—had leaned over when Star finally took a moment to find her breath, voice dipping low as he casually filled in the most obvious, glaring blanks in her story. He explained how they’d come upon ZuZu while rushing you back to the tower for medical attention—left behind by their master, defensive and shaking, and hidden away beneath the burning hot rubble from unlucky buildings crushed during the Jump City attack.

You can vaguely recall those creatures and their part in the invasion, as you hold the curious, unwavering stare of your new housemate. You pinpoint a fuzzy recollection of hundreds of similar alien hybrids, large percents of them being used as cannon fodder against the city’s responding defense—some sort of attack dogs or bloodhounds originally breed for what seemed to be an unparalleled sense of incoming danger. And a lethal aptitude for sniffing out and marking targets, even in the most extreme of circumstances. All to make the invading attack’s that much more…. precise.

Equally as shaken and heartbroken, both Starfire and Beast Boy insisted on giving little ZuZu a home, one without the need for cold masters and needless sacrifices.

Robin admitted that it took some convincing to get him to agree, but that he caved to them rather quickly, like the truly soft-hearted dork you know he is on the inside. The one, you’ve been noticing, that is no longer carefully tempered behind masks both metaphorical and literal (like those you’d learned to cultivate for yourself, to ensure your own survival among the flocks of good and evil in this world)—all veils of enigmatic charm and cool leadership, strategy and logic.

(While for just as long, you had mused, you refined your wall of sarcasm and teasing, and strained, plastic smiles. Even as fate saw it fit to laugh and thrust you into the role of cosmic punching bag in both a figurative and literal sense).

Because Robin is never really one to deny a safe haven to someone, especially an orphan, in need.

And it’s not too hard to understand why.

It’s one quality you’ve only caught glimpses of, before the attempted invasion and one too many near-death experiences changed everything.

Your once positive opinion on lizards.

Your practical, humanly limitations regarding the ability to eat your weight in cold, cheese pizza.

Your mostly cynical take on all the possible wonders of this life.

Your team and their conduct—their outreach of friendship, their measure of trust and willing openness towards you.

Your place among them. Your.... the need for the permanence of those masks.

All while you’ve been learning to come to terms with this warm, slowly blossoming….strange feeling of finally belonging.

ZuZu shifts to find a different angle, and then they’re sliding their head further into your lap, situating themselves just underneath your hovering hand. Your sullen gaze darts down to examine them again in the cresting evening sunlight, their lithe body bathed in an orange light that softens the harsh lines and edges of bluish-green scales, until they’re all but glittering like some magnificent, stain-glass fish below rippling water.

Shit, they’re so wonderfully unique, maybe too much so, for a world that tears down all that’s different in the name of fear (and this you know all too well). They’re intelligent and hardheaded, and kind of an absolute dick if you’re being honest. But you can’t help but feel close to the little creature, and hope, however possibly (awfully) misguided, that it’s at least somewhat mutual. After all, for all their rough edges and guarded, worldly acceptance, they were learning to fit in here—just like you.

The flash of a long, forked tongue startles you from your thoughts, and you catch sight of it in your peripheral, snapping out towards the piece of half-eaten crust in your hand before you can even process where it’s suddenly emerged from. You jerk away clumsily on reflex, letting the crust plummet back to the plate in your lap as you lean to the side, trying to avoid the persistent little alien. You hoist the plate up and out of their reach at a safer distance—though not without a twinge of pain that bursts like fireworks in your shoulders.

You glare down at them in admonishment.

Well then.

Earlier sentiment revoked, actually.

ZuZu narrows their intensely bright eyes right back at you, their frill rising from their neck like the hackles of an angry dog. The trim pleats of skin folded there flutter in anticipation before finally sweeping open with the rippling, fluid grace of a hand-held folding fan. The pretty scales lining the exposed frill change colour almost instantly when they hit the open air, flaring a deep red when you stick your tongue out at ZuZu in an act of childish defiance.

Yeah, someone’s no longer a happy camper now, are they? Well, join the club, pal.

You can’t always get what you want. Because no matter what you do, life just likes to screw you in the—

It takes a total of three, distracted seconds.

The offending tongue snaps out at an impossible length to hit the surface of the plate. It’s like some cartoon frog catching a fly that’s far enough out of reach to be considered natural, the appendage wrapping around one end of the half-bitten crust, before proudly reeling it back down into a waiting mouth. Their jaw snaps shut again with an audible click of teeth, and they swallow their prize whole and much too slowly, flashing you a fanged smile that gives you the creeps.

Or you do, you find yourself bitterly amending in the wake of defeat, especially when you’re a terrifying space gremlin with freakish mouth biology. Why are you even awake again today?

You sag into the couch cushions with an unexpected wave of soul-weary tiredness, a full body and mind exhaustion creeping upon the fringes of your being, though you’d been fighting it off rather successfully for most of the month.

You lower the empty plate to sit on the surface of the coffee table—while grumbling under your breath about the reigning injustice of such snack-stealing gremlins in your midst—and lean even more precariously forward. Much farther than you normally would consider doing without others around, but you persist in you reach, getting a good grip on the propped up crutch you’ve left leaning against the table.

You struggle to your feet then, deciding to leave the main living room to find something more productive to do (rather than wallowing and getting your food pilfered from beneath your slowly healing, broken nose). ZuZu watches you silently from their cozy napping spot, gaze tracking you as you begin to hobble around the couch on your way from the room. You toss a half-hearted, parting wave to Starfire’s first adopted friend—a chunky, gooey, mutant moth larvae dubbed little Silkie, snoring away beneath an open side table near the couch.

It’s good going, until something unexpected flutters down from the ceiling with the grace of falling snow—just as you’re about to cross the threshold into the hallway. Your gaze follows the swirling path of the shiny, red and black length of foil as it lands near your feet. A candy wrapper.

Huh.

Strange.

You pause in your journey and peer down at it for a moment, bewildered enough to take a full step back before finally looking up to retrace its fallen path.

And okay, so in hind sight, you kind of wish you hadn’t left the couch.

A single, suspiciously green, bat drops like a stone from the ceiling once it’s seen, swooping down over your head with a panicked flutter of leathery wings. You shout and unashamedly curse like a drunken sailor, ducking in surprise to further avoid the little needle talons that brush across the top of your head. Beast Boy turns human once he clears your form and hits the floor, once again completely, frustratingly, naked when he hops up to his feet.

He tries to quickly console you, only to jump back in order to dodge the fear-driven swing of your crutch.

“Hey! It’s just me!!” He exclaims, hands held out towards you. You sling your cast over your eyes and wonder just how bad it would be if you bleached them clean of the searing, full-frontal image that lingers just behind them.

“WEAR PANTS.” You demand in alarm.

“They’re not comfortable!” He complains. Eyes still tightly shut, you shake your head and gesture wildly at him, throwing out your plaster covered arm to wave it around in loose, frantic circles. “PANTS!” You insist in a higher voice. “Fine!”

He mutters something else, low and displeased under his breath, and then goes to dig out a familiar non-descript bag you’re used to finding at random—usually full of extra clothes and stashed around the tower, or other frequent hangout places around the city—hidden away within the grassy, potted plant next to you both. You choose to ignore the obvious sass he’s exuding in protest, cracking open an eye just a bit to make sure he’s following through.

He smoothly tugs his purple and black uniform free from the depths of the shiny leaves, wrangling on the bottom half with a pout as quickly as he can, and before you know it, he’s already shrugging the fabric up over his narrow shoulders.

(Though to your satisfaction he’s careful of the stitches still lining his spine). You sigh in relief, “Just—oh my god, what were even you doing up there in the first place?!”

Beast Boy works his mouth in silence as though he can’t find the right words to explain at the moment, bottom canines glinting as he squints up through the fluorescent lights and tosses the empty bag to rest beside the plant. He seems to be thinking hard about his answer (you hope), his gaze dropping to you after a few seconds of awkward, disbelieving silence. He shrugs, apparently deciding it’s appropriate to simply respond with a pair of finger-guns and a strained grin. “....hanging around?”

…..

You think you’re starting to miss those dragon-tailed, sumo alien’s from space-hell.

Your shoulders slump as the pent up energy from your frustration and sudden scare seeps from your body all at once. You groan, lifting your crutch up to point at him, the tip barely brushing against his chest. “You’re dead to me.” You proclaim lightly. Beast Boy rolls his eyes, and after securing the clasp on the back of his suit with a small chuckle, reaches out to gently lower the makeshift weapon. “Oh, come on—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, moving to hobble around him and retreat to your room. You shouldn’t have gotten up today. Nope. Call it a bad feeling. Something is going on around here and you are getting the hell out while you can. He slides into your path immediately, cutting of your escape with a smooth glide across the hardwood flooring. You narrow your eyes, shuffling to move around him again. He meets you like before, lunging closer still with each attempt to counteract your movements. You huff and stare him down, feeling like a Spanish bull in the ring, ready to charge the moment you see an opening. “BB, move.” You warn lowly.

He throws out his arms to either side of him, blocking your way when you take a threatening step forward. “Can’t do that.” He chirps, puffing out his chest to seem more confident in his current position, while beginning to look as though he’s starting to regret his life’s choices, what with the way you’re gaze is cutting into his very soul. (Positively icy. You’d practiced that, rest in peace).

But he doesn’t move.

You frown and glare at him suspiciously, forcing your heavy limbs to cooperate with you for a moment. You take a step to the right, and as expected Beast Boy mirrors your movement, but your body isn’t as fast as you remember it. And he knows it. You careen to the left to try and complete your fake-out, but Beast Boy anticipates the slow sway of your body, following the uneven momentum like a puppet on strings to block your way yet again.

He reaches out to steady you when you wobble, legs shaking with the sudden quick strain on your knees, and you wince at the flair of pain. Crappy broken body. You shake him off angrily, more upset at yourself then at him, and strike your crutch against the floor with a wave of strength (propelled simply by the heated frustration you feel festering in your chest like icky, wriggling worms). “Beast Bo—Gar, I’m serious.” You hiss in annoyance, ignoring the ricocheting twinge of pain that shoots up into your shoulder at the action.

“Believe it or not, so am I!” He defends, hands flying to his hips.

“Debatable.” You snap back.

“Rude.”

“Twenty bucks on (Y/N).” A new, deeper voice declares with obvious amusement. You spin to face the living room again, Beast Boy peeking around you to get a better view. Cyborg and Starfire are standing before you, having appeared out of thin air and quiet as can be, the latter of the duo looking as though she could just burst with excitement. More than usual. Cyborg’s gaze cuts to you when he notices the way you’re staring at her in confusion, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently to sooth the absurd tremble of her body.

Okay. Double suspicious.

They’re dressed in casual clothes; Starfire in high-waisted, purple shorts and a stylish pink sweater that hangs off her shoulders, her wild red hair tied back into a ponytail and her feet bare, smile wide. Cyborg is donned in sweatpants and an old blue and yellow football jersey you think might have seen better days once, newly buffered limbs gleaming under the lights. Beast Boy pursues his lips and squints up at his friend when he catches sight of the teasing smirk Cyborg trains on him.

“Thanks, dude.” He responds as sarcastically as he can. Starfire spins to face Cyborg with glee, hands clasped in front of her.

“Friend Victor, I too wish to attribute money to the outcome of this argument.” She reveals enthusiastically, leaving you to trade an exhausted look with Beast Boy at the spiraling situation. Cyborg’s grin grows larger, and he winks at you both before giving Starfire his undivided attention.

“Okay.” He relents, staring down at her curiously. “Bettin’ on (Y/N) then?”

Starfire pauses, nose crinkling as she considers the question. “Can I not take part of the betting for both?”

“No, Star, it doesn’t really—” Cyborg begins, sighing with reluctance when she only continues to look up at him expectantly. “You know what? Sure.” He amends with a shrug, rubbing at the back of his head. Starfire claps her hands excitedly and laughs, her feet lifting from the floor in her in a rush of elation.

“Glorious!” She exclaims. You almost miss it when Cyborg turns away from her, but you’re able to barely catch the sly way she throws a wink at you too, the quick gesture leaving you reeling in amusement.

Oh shit, what a hero.

You can definitely appreciate a good swindle win you see one. And that was great.

You slump against your crutch and chuckle tiredly, massaging your forehead with the tips of the fingers peeking stiffly from your cast, before raising your arm up to draw their attention.

“Alright, seriously, what’s going on with you guys today? Where’ve you all been? Some secret club within our secret club?” You question fervently, on a new mission as you hobble closer towards them. “I have to admit, I’m kind of offended if that’s the case.”

“Oh, you know, out.” Cyborg says much too casually and unhelpfully for your liking, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. Simultaneously, Starfire responds much too quickly.

“In my room!” She declares loudly, unable to stop herself from flinching at the sharp, wide-eyed look Cyborg cuts her. She mouths an apology at him and flashes you a sheepish smile, tapping the tips of her index fingers together.

Oh, something is definitely going on. Not on my watch, secret keepers of the crypt.

You squint at them, “Sure. I’ll believe that. But why do I suddenly have a five-foot-furry shadow? One who doesn’t seem to know the concept of the word shame?”

Beast Boy gasps as though he’s never been so insulted in his young life (okay, so you may have possibly taken it a little too far that time. But in your defense, there’s a lot of stressful things going on right now, and the bat thing may have thrown you a little too far over the edge), scurrying around you to passionately wave a random, uh, peace sign in front of your face.

Wait, what?

“Five-foot-two.” He stresses firmly, wiggling both fingers for emphasis. You lean your weight on the single crutch keeping you gloriously upright, reaching out to tug his hand down with a groan.

“So not the point, batboy.”

“Hey! Bats are cool!”

“Ha! You know what else is cool?” You question sarcastically, nestling your casted arm against your chest as you lean forward to regard him with an arched eyebrow. “Not scaring the living shit of a person who’s already legally died twice from heart failure.”

Beast Boy concedes to your logic with a grimace, no doubt fighting off a burst of vivid memory on the subject.

“Point taken.” He agrees.

Cyborg pads over to you with a muffled laugh, giving your upper back a hearty, friendly slap that propels you forward a few steps. “Aw, B.B.’s just doing his job. Lighten up, (Y/N/N).”

You stumble with a strangled sound and work to regain your balance yourself through burning muscles, gripping the handle and uprights of the crutch as tightly as you can. You always forget how strong he is. And sometimes, though not often, so does he. Cyborg winces, flexing his fingers while he graces you with an apologetic smile. You raise an eyebrow at him; eyes locked intently on his face, as though you could simply reach into his mind and know all with a simple blink, and subtly tilt your head towards Beast Boy.

"And that means I can't leave one single room?"

"It was more to keep you busy." Cyborg admits with a grin that makes you all too nervous.

Okay, red flag. Were you sweating? You might be sweating. They weren’t the…vengeful type, right? It’s not really your fault you tend to stress eat. Though….

"What are you all planning?" You ask again, unconsciously scanning the corners of room behind them for your two missing team members. Why do you feel like you’re about to be ambushed? Starfire hops forward like she’s stepping on air, looping her arm through yours and shaking it gently as she leans into you. Then she begins to drag you forward the smallest bit.

"Something wonderful!” She responds in that giddy way of hers, green eyes simmering with something impassioned and restless when they focus on your dumbfounded expression—fire brimming from her touch and her very being. She leans in closer and continues in a secretive whisper, which you think was meant to be soothing at some point between her thought process and strange execution. “But you must come to the roof to see it, my friend."

The….roof?

What’s so special about the fucking—

Oh.

….

Sonuvabitch.

To be completely honest, you knew it would somehow end like this. Betrayed by a moment of weakness and reduced to seething shame and broken trust, only to be real-life ghosted and then unceremoniously Mufasa-ed by your own team. A dramatic, imminent doom of Disney proportions. Ugh, what an embarrassing way to go. You really shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning like some normal, model citizen with an inane urge to contribute to society. What an idiot.

Still….maybe you’re just being a little over-dramatic here. Heroes usually have non-murdery morals, don’t they? Which is a big step up from your last group of…yeah….they weren’t even close to friends. Still, you can never be too careful these days. Right? Right.

You pull back from Starfire, trying to sound teasing as you respond, while barreling through your baseless internal panic and sprinkle of sugar-riddled guilt. How do you always get yourself into these messes?

"Is this the part where you throw me from the top? For finishing off the leftover cake without telling anyone?"

Beast Boy’s jaw drops.

"That was you?!"

Of course it was.

You laugh nervously and much too awkwardly to be convincing while you scramble to backtrack, "What?! Of course not!"

It was so good.

Starfire looks kind of horrified at your earlier insinuation about the roof, and she pulls away from you completely, eyes wide and unbelieving. She gasps, "We would never!"

Cyborg’s eyebrow shoots up as he studies your reaction. He frowns, lifting a hand to rub at his chin with an exaggerated sweep of his arm—as though he’s taking a moment to think more deeply about the matter—his metal fingers clunk-ing in the blanketing silence when they meet the thick, metal plate covering it. He sounds playful when he speaks up, and you know he’s not taking the news as hard as Gar currently is.

"Well, now you've given me a lot to think about." He says slowly, amusement thick in his voice and vibrantly pulsing beneath his already crumbling, disappointed façade.

You wonder when it was exactly—when you’d unconsciously began to find his eagerly outspoken and protective spirit, his overly intense and personal pride (in all manners of technological tinkering and projects), and awful, awful acting, somewhat endearing. Maybe it was around the same time you’d grown rather fond of Beast Boy’s organic simplicity with life or perfectly-timed wit, his endearing, steadfast spirit and dorky, down-to-earth charm (though you would deny any accusation that says otherwise, pretending to find his endless stream of puns nothing but annoying).

Or Starfire’s unfathomable warmth and, mostly smothering, overzealous passion in all things, no matter how small—a burning, extraterrestrial sun with a warrior’s soul and an open heart. Or Raven’s sarcastic calm and quiet disposition, a hopeful kind of darkness—as encompassing as it mystifying—which brings peace in ways one wouldn’t expect or think they needed.

Or Robin. Noble and kind, brooding, insufferably stubborn, Robin—with an annoying competitive streak that rivals even you. Your outwardly, fearless friend and leader, a little birdie who keeps you from slipping back into your cold, old ways while still wanting to be a part of something better. To be a Titan. Time and time again. And—

Ah, fuck. You’ve gotten so sappy lately.

Near death experiences are the worst.

You roll your eyes at Cyborg, regardless of that grating, growing itch of sentimentality crawling up from your chest and into your throat like a rock, all the while fighting down the upwards twitch your lips.

"Oh, shut up.” You mutter, ducking your head so he won’t see as you move to hobble past the group back into the centre of the living room. “Even though I'm at my weakest right now, it doesn't mean I won't fight you."

Cyborg drops his arm and laughs, "I don't doubt it."

Beast Boy ducks around him; sparing no time as he shrinks down to the form of a chattering, green squirrel. Without breaking stride, he dashes towards your slowing figure, leaping forward to scale the rungs of your crutch.

You jump at the sudden weight and list sideways, the vibration of his hurried ascent and the clattering of his nails against metal throwing you out of your concentrated state. You lean back too fast in surprise, catching the back of the couch with the underside of your cast to keep yourself somewhat upright, and wait with a raised brow as he moves to pull himself up onto the crutch pad at the top.

"Besides, you proved you’re anything but weak when you kicked Death’s ass! Multiple times.” He chirps proudly, settling back onto his little hind legs to stare up at you, bushy tail twitching and dark eyes round and glinting when they catch the light. “You're a survivor. Always have been.”

You grin, feeling satisfied that he finally seems to be more…relaxed about your injuries now (as opposed to the annoying, but much appreciated, panicked mother-henning you’d experienced throughout the first few weeks back on your feet). You have a sneaking suspicion Cyborg had a hand in this recent development—bless his beautiful, understanding soul—and you make a mental note to treat him to a pizza night soon. Or just hug him really, really tight in relief.

You heft your cast from the couch to hold out two fingers towards Beast Boy.

"And always will be." You agree. He reaches out with a shrill, happy squeak, tapping a front paw against them in a painfully adorable semblance of a high-five. Starfire joins you by the couch and lays her hand against your upper back, right between your shoulder blades, the swelling heat of it soothing the ache and strain of your poor muscles. Her gentle touch slides up, mindful of the bruises still splattered like patchwork across your skin, until you feel her lightly squeeze your shoulder.

"Very much like the warriors of old from my planet." She tells you softly, a smile pulling at her lips when your eyes dart up to look at her. It’s then you realize that all three of them are now looking at you rather expectantly, attention solely trained on your face as the room falls into an eager kind of silence. One that is quick to twist your abdomen into fluttering, nervous knots.

Right, you think with a start, there was something about the roof—something they wanted me to see. You hesitate (is it getting hot in here, or is that just you self-combusting?), gaze jumping to each of your friends in turn. They continue to stare you down with purpose, waiting for your consent to be dazzled and thoroughly surprised, before you catch the barest hint of movement in your peripheral vision. You glance down at the back of the couch, wanting to scream your frustration to the sky, when you take in the wide, furry face peering back up at you.

Oh, not you too, ZuZu. You traitor.

She locks those intelligent eyes on you. He glowing pink gaze is intent and reprimanding, and god, you’re actually—silently, awkwardly—getting told off by an adorable lizard-themed care bear, who hails from the far reaches of infinity and beyond the known galaxy. What has your life come too? And the worst part is you don’t think you’re strong enough to—oh, goddamit. Peer pressure is a bitch.

"Alright.” You relent with a groan, throwing ZuZu a pointed, disgruntled look (which she simply counters with a glowing pink frill and mischievous wink, a move that has you breathing deeply to avoid just chucking your crutch across the room in defiance of it all). You turn to gesture at the others, “Fine. Let's get this show on the road then."

Beast Boy leaps down from the top of the crutch before you’ve even finished talking, his tiny shape shifting into the much larger form of a tiger once he touches down (more gracefully than you’d expected him to). He gives a little throaty growl in excitement, circling in place to get his bearings. And then with a sudden focus that makes you laugh, he’s bounding in a rush to slink between Cyborg and Starfire—his gaze already intensely trained down the hallway that leads towards the elevator.

"Sweet! Now you’re talking!" He exclaims with a swish of his tail, pausing only for a moment to throw a look back at Cyborg, the familiar imitation of a fanged grin even more terrifying with larger, sharper teeth on display. "Dibs on the donuts!"

Uh, donuts??

Cyborg groans and scrubs a hand over his face, stepping forward with his other hand outstretched, as if he could keep his excited friend from moving with just sheer force of will. "No! You don't get to just—Gar!"

Starfire tilts her head and watches until Beast Boy disappears around the curve of the hallway, "You have to admire his will power up until this moment." She points out, reaching out to brush a soothing touch to Cyborg’s shoulder.

He gives her a solemn nod in agreement. "...true." "Hi, yeah, still confused." You slowly iterate, when it’s clear they’re going to say nothing more on the manner, and looking hilariously haunted, just stare out into the middle distance like some kind of dramatic dork-asses. You can’t help it though—you want answers. You’ve been officially intrigued (donuts are always a good sign and nothing will convince you otherwise) and that cat-damning curiosity in you can never be quieted for long, so help you.

“Are we still going to the roof?”

Cyborg is the first to shake himself to attention, and he swings around to look at you with a knowing grin that tells you’re probably about to regret opening your mouth again. Probably. You guess?

…..

Okay, so you might be already exhausted enough now, with all this moving about and floundering, moral turmoil, to deal with any mysterious roof meetings and their possible consequences—and there’s no truly hiding it, or just burying it away for future you to worry about come morning (damn, why is past you always such a dick?).

Which leaves you decidedly awash in a ‘My mind is an emotional dumpster fire and all I want is to hibernate for forty years’ kind of way, unable to completely distinguish the nuances of your feelings on anything happening within a 10 foot radius.

Especially since you’d….broken that quiet morning after the attack, finally reconciling with a screeching realization you’d been pushing back for years—even with all that damaged purpose, all that strength and determination and precious time you’d flooded into looking after yourself and only you, instead of worrying about others and how they might screw with you this time, you’d left yourself open anyway. Unwillingly, accidently, raw—like an exposed nerve adrift in the cosmos and crying out for relief.

Someone in power must have had mercy on you at last though, because you have friends. Good friends who are good people. And you love them in your own rough-around-the-edges way (is that the right word here? Love? You hope that’s the right word—it feels like the right word); but there’s no chance you’re ever going to tell any of them that. It’s become too embarrassing to even think about in your own mind, let alone out loud where they could actually...hear you.

But you’re not going to let all your personal baggage stop you now. Not while there’s the promise of donuts anyway.

Yeah, your priorities might need a little sorting out.

"Come on." Cyborg says, already treading backwards in the direction Beast Boy had gone. Starfire zips past you with ease, cutting around the corner like a fish would dart through deep water.

Her laugh echoes through the hall as she vanishes from sight, "Oh, this is going to be such a joyous occasion!"

Cyborg takes his time to snicker at the nervous grimace on your face. But you valiantly choose to be the bigger person here (no matter how much you want to knock your head against the nearest wall and see if your middle finger still works within the stiffness of a cast), simply rolling your eyes as you hobble to catch up to him around the bend in the hallway. He slows his pace without a word until you’re following closely at his side.

“So why aren’t we taking the elevator?” You inquire, watching as the thick metal doors slide past in your peripheral. It’s then you spot the other two loitering around by the door to the stairs.

The plot thickens.

Cyborg struggles to squash his playful grin, “Occupied.”

“By...”

“A second surprise. Now come on.” He diverts smoothly, waving his hand over the sensor for the door once Beast Boy and Starfire step away to make room for you both. It slides open from left to right with a mechanical hiss, and you peer in to the brightly lit stairwell with a raised brow. The glaring, white fluorescent lights are already giving you a headache.

“How do you expect me to get up the stairs?”

“Easy.”

“Oh, really? Easy? What are you even—”

The world shifts like a seesaw in your vision and you can barely comprehend the next few seconds: the way Cyborg stoops low enough to knock out the backs of your knees, the simultaneous rush of weightlessness—a fluttering, dizzying drop in your stomach that stalls the very breath in your chest—or even the jumbled burst of restrained laughter and disapproving click of a tongue which dissipates almost as soon as it starts.

And you tip backwards into his arms with flailing limbs and a startled yelp as you’re gently scooped up, hanging shocked and boneless until he swings you up to cling onto his back like some sort of panicked koala. Cyborg laughs more boisterously as you lose your crutch in the commotion, grip loosening in your surprise until it slips entirely from your hold and vanishes from reach, the telltale clattering of metal against ground echoing from somewhere off to the side.

“—goddammit, Vic!” You gasp when the world stands still again, sucking in air for your breathless lungs. “A little warning!”

He simply cups the back of your knees and holds your legs tightly over the ridged, triangular slab of metal casing his hips, slowly straightening to his full, giant height again. It gives you a moment to throw your arms around his neck for safety and squeeze with all your reprimanding might. Cyborg turns to look at you with a teasing smirk you’re all too familiar with, before stepping further into the doorway.

“Comfortable there, Grumpy?”

“You’re the worst.” You announce without any real bite, leaning back to scan the floor for your missing crutch. It doesn’t take you long to realize that Starfire has already rescued it, hugging the dented metal pole to her chest with a look of determination. She catches your relieved gaze over Cyborg’s shoulder and nods as if reassuring you that she’s got everything handled now, gently patting the cushioned padding at the top of the crutch.

And then her eyes eagerly snap to Cyborg.

You can’t see his face from your vantage point, but you think he’s relaying permission with the way he tilts his head towards the stairs. Both Starfire and Beast Boy rocket forward in any case, barely sidestepping around you in their race up the first flight of stairs. Cyborg follows them without hesitation, and you can hardly wait another moment once your little group hurriedly passes the third floor, before the mystery of the roof becomes too intriguing to avoid any longer.

“So...are Rob and Raven in on this too?” You carefully begin, speaking to no one in particular but hoping someone might answer you anyway. “Cause they've been more mysterious than usual.”

"Grumpy and observant. You know…you'd make a pretty awesome detective too—give Dick some healthy competition around here." Cyborg returns in an innocent manner, which you know for a fact is bullshit. So you lamely thump a fist against the point between the heavy, metal plating circling his neck before it tapers down into his chest, and grumble your displeasure.

"Annnd you're dodging my questions, big guy. Again."

Cyborg says nothing this time and simply uses the firm hold he has under your knees to toss you up a few inches, jostling you free from your comfortable koala cling as though he`s trying to readjust your position. Only you know that’s not what he intended at all—evidenced by the irritating way he starts to laugh while you groan at him and shimmy urgently at his back, trying to right yourself from the haphazard tilt you’d landed in.

"Ugh! I miss being able to walk up a flight of stairs like a normal person!" You whine, bonking your forehead against the smooth, climate-controlled casing covering the back of his head, the vibrations of his full-body laughter rattling straight through you.

Beast Boy goes still ahead of the group, front paw hovering above the next step up. That unsettling tiger grin as he turns to regard you is the only warning you get before the inevitable.

"Eh, I wouldn’t trust these stairs though,” Beast Boy drawls with terrifying purpose, “They always seem like they're…up to something."

Starfire pipes up from her place hovering beside you and Cyborg in perfect comedic timing, her eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"Well yes, up to the roof—oh...that was..."

Yeah, Kori. Damn.

He waits in the ensuing, hollow silence of the stairwell for a reaction, gaze expectantly darting from person to person until you don’t know whether to laugh or just get mad.

....both?

Alright, okay, here’s the thing.

Though you may have...secretly....begun to appreciate Garfield’s endless arsenal of jokes and puns as much as that next person (you’ve got a reputation to uphold after all), that....was not so good.

You’d face palm if you had complete confidence in your upper body strength as of late, but you definitely do not—especially after that embarrassingly sad attempt to escape to your room earlier (feat. the interference of your awkwardly unexpected, five foot-two bodyguard). And you’d very much like to keep securely clinging for your life atop mount ‘Victory’ Stone instead, rather than somehow (ridiculously) finding some way to slip from his back and fall to a more permanent death down the tower’s two-hundred stairway to hell.

So, you’ll just lock away this existential breakdown for another day and move on. Be the bigger person here, again.

....

Or.

"I think I'm starting to miss the coma." You deadpan with unabashed pettiness (because you’d actually had to listen to that with your own two ears), refusing to give him even the slightest satisfaction of a job well done.

Step up your game, Gar.

You can pinpoint the exact moment Cyborg winces with regret for his friend—his chin dipping down, the glowing blue machinery encasing half his skull whirring with a soft, discomforting humming like he’s finally reduced to just screaming on the inside.

"Oof,” He eventually adds through a long exhale. “I've heard better stuff from you, man."

Beast Boy sniffs in displeasure at your less than positive reactions, "Yo, give me a break; I'm still getting over the pizza thing."

You heft your body up straight to stare him dead in the eyes and lift your unbroken arm, wiggling your fingers over Cyborg’s head in a teasing way. "Let it haunt you for the rest of your daaaays~"

You don’t think you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing a hulking, green, murder cat roll its eyes so hard before. But there it is—in all its uncanny, cartoon-like glory. Beast Boy shakes his heavy head and resumes slinking up the stairs, leaving the rest of you to catch up while he throws another line over his shoulder, in a way you know is meant to be a playful declaration of war.

"Which reminds me...” He purrs slyly, “….what did the ghost say when it arrived at the party?"

Starfire taps at her chin in thought, "Ummm hello?”

Beast Boy’s enthusiasm swells with her genuine attempt, and he turns to coax his best friend into answering as well.

"Not quite. Come on, Cy, this is all you dude."

"Can I get a—"

"Victor don't you dare!"

Cyborg merely hums at your desperate interjection, "Uh-oh full name. That's never a good sign."

"Oh!” Starfire’s expression lights up in a way you’re entirely used to by now, and she leaves your side on the flutter of a giddy laugh, hovering quick up the next few steps. She smiles down at Beast Boy once she reaches him, titling her head as he looks up at her with an animated flick of his tail.

“I believe I know this one. May I?" She quietly gushes, twirling to lounge back gracefully in the air beside him. His head bobs once, long and slow, still flashing that sharp grin.

"Dazzle me, Star."

"Can I get the Boo-ya!!?"

"HA! Yeah, that’s wassup!"

You thunk your head against Cyborg’s shoulder this time, wincing at the brief pulse of pain from pounding metal against skull. "Oh my god, are we there yet?"

"As a matter of fact..." Cyborg mysteriously trails off, hopping up the last step to the top landing of the stairway. You peek up in interest and immediately want a better look when you see that the access to the roof is propped open the slightest bit, squishing your cheek against Cyborg’s as you lean forwards with the anticipation of it all. It’s easy to spot the flickering movement from just beyond the door—shadows moving fast from one end to the other. Is someone already there?

You suck in an anxious breath when Cyborg lowers himself to one knee and releases his hold on you, carefully helping you dismount from your cling, and Starfire is all too eager to return your crutch, pushing it into your arms and waving you forwards. Your friends let you nudge open the door then without another word, following you out as you bravely take your first few steps and—

…..

You think you might’ve blacked out for a moment in shock.

Beast Boy circles your legs as you silently take in the state of the roof, rubbing against them with a gentle brush of his body before he exclaims, "Surprise! Did we getcha??"

You blink a few times to get your bewildered mind working again. Because out of any possible scenario you could have—and did—invent within your imagination….it was nothing like…well, this.

The smell of hot food wafting through the summer-like air reaches you first, and you’re drawn to admire what is definitely Starfire's touch in your unexpected surprise.

There are two tables set up across the roof directly ahead, side by side and pushed flush against the lip of rectangular ledge boxing in the space. Each wooden surface is filled with cutlery, food and drinks in jade colored bowls and glasses, and adorned with fun, rainbow coloured table cloths—the cheap, plastic kind you’d find from a dollar store—and regal centre pieces among the clutter. These consist of wreaths with beaded jewel strings and alien metal shapes, forms that remind you of branded symbols you’d once glimpsed from the hilts of her homeworld weapons.

There’s a fancy new boom box sitting on the ledge, just to the left of the food tables. It’s silvery and shiny in the late evening light, akin to the small heap of patterned presents sitting below it, or the bouquets of metallic balloons weighed down by sandbags in each corner of the roof.

Cyborg’s own creative touch is more quiet, but still obvious in your racing mind, reflected in the large blue and white fairy lights the size of your fist, strings of them hooked beneath the ledge and spaced along the entire perimeter of the roof. They remind you of mini lava lamps—slowly swinging, each casing filled with swirling, pulsing energy, casting loops of light and shadow which dance across the sleek stone of the rooftop ground.

Your gaze finds four, dark green bean bag chairs next, moved from the game room to sit in a circle further down the left side of the roof. A neat, tent-like canopy, reminiscent of Raven’s more gothic looking style, is set up over them and affixed with steel piping, made of sheer dark sheets in purple, blue, and black—a cozy, magical lounging spot that makes you long for the calmness and dark that only sleep can bring.

You slowly turn to your right, noting that access to the elevator on the other side of the roof is surprisingly clear for once, the usual pile of rickety telescope gear stored away to make room for dancing. And through an odd urge to cast a look behind you, you easily catch sight of the cute, homemade banner dangling above the door you’ve just stepped through, green and bubblegum pink letters scrawled across a white strip of poster board: Party Like It’s Your Birthday!!

You recognize Beast Boy’s handwriting the moment your eyes trace the first few letters.

It takes you a moment, still staring out at the culmination of your surprise, to realize that it all clashes terribly, although you don't find yourself caring in the slightest. It’s beautiful and endearing and makes sense to you in every way that matters—and you wouldn't have it look any other way.

Huh…look at that.

You're actually getting a hang of this sappy feelings thing. "Uh, wh—I…what's all this for?" You finally manage to sputter out, once your friends go back to watching you with those barely contained grins and expectant gazes. Even Raven, already in the midst of final preparations, standing by that glorious canopy as she methodically smoothes out wrinkles in the overlapping fabric—both manually and magically—is smiling shyly at you over her shoulder. Her dark, purple-colored eyes are carefully mapping out every hitch in your expression.

Like the others, she’s dressed more casually than you’re used to seeing around the tower; ripped dark-washed skinny jeans with a cropped tee to match and clunky, black combat boots, a leather choker that looks uncomfortably tight around her neck. But the most unexpected difference has to be when you realize what she’s missing. Her signature, purple-blue cloak has been swapped for a hooded, bomber jacket—black with gold zippers and detailing, and one size too big. It’s so strange a sight that it’s actually….kind of weirding you out a little.

Starfire grasps the wrist of your cast and gently tugs you forward, guiding you further into the organized mayhem that was once the tower’s roof. "The happiest day of birth to you my friend!"

Oh. Oh.

Now this is awkward.

"It's my…birthday?" You ask dumbly. Beast boy’s tiny head, that of an adorably, fluffed up squirrel monkey this time, pops up from the depths of a bowl sitting on the first food table—like some knock-off whack-o-mole game (and wait a goddamn minute, when the hell did he even get there?). His little hands grip the lip of the bowl as he chatters through crunching pretzels.

"Duh! At least yeah, I think so…uh, right?"

You clasp a hand to your forehead when you remember the date and groan, "No, no, you’re right, I think it is. Crap, I feel like I lost an entire year."

Starfire’s whole body slumps at your reaction, floating down until her feet touch ground.

"You are unhappy." She concludes sadly.

Aw, cripes, why are you like this?

"NO! No, Kori, I'm happy!” You hurriedly reassure her, “I just....I haven't really celebrated it in a long time. I never had anyone to..."

They hear your unspoken implication clear enough and offer you sad, little smiles—varying degrees of empathy seeping through into their expressions. Empathy. And not pity. Not judgment. Just compassion from people who understand it all.

An alien princess far from home who embraces difference and is learning to choose a life for herself, a half-cybernetic football star who had to learn when to let go and walk a new path in life, a troubled half-demon not wanting to be defined by the past or her heritage, a metahuman menagerie of animals fighting the pull of loneliness while still finding strength in his friends, and an orphan circus boy turned vigilante—given not only a second chance to make a difference for others, but unwavering hope as well.

Your own Breakfast Club of heroes.

"Well now ‘ya have us." Beast Boy says with serious resolve you haven’t often seen when it comes to your loyal jokester, the others agreeing simultaneously as he bounds closer in small leaps from across the table. There’s a painful clenching in your chest at their sentiments, and although it feels like you’re on the verge of a heart attack, it’s a good kind of hurt that brings relief to your entire being.

Because thinking it is one thing, but hearing it out loud dregs more emotion to the surface than you ever thought you had—makes it all the more real. You swallow thickly and try to keep composed through another monumental shift in your perceptions.

"I know." You return softly. Starfire takes your hand and holds it firmly in hers, mindful of the strength in her grip.

"And you are indeed truly....happy?"

Well, that’s a heavy question.

You never truly belonged anywhere, in the past. Too unnatural for everyday civilians, too angry for heroes, too kind for villains. You never understood why no one could just let you be....something in the middle.

But now, you think you’re finally learning that happy is something you can be, even while half-existing in that kind of grey area. So you squeeze her hand in reassurance and take a page from Beast Boy’s book—you attempt to lighten the mood.

"I will be once we get this party started." You tease, pulling away to turn on the boom box and click through stations in search of something party worthy. With that, the others move to disperse; Starfire and the boys already picking through the food tables with interest, while Raven briefly ducks beneath one to retrieve an opaque, plastic storage tote.

It’s blue and more than decently sized in her arms, but she carries it easily and without a word to the bean bag canopy, sitting (legs crossed and back perfectly straight) to methodically sift through its contents.

Starfire waves you towards the food tables once you settle on a popular radio station known for their mix of genres and artists—a little something for everyone hopefully.

"Come then, you must partake in some of this delicious food. I tried earth recipes." She proudly tells you, scooping up some sort of rice dish to wave under your nose as though hoping to entice you further. It smells pleasant, of grilled vegetables and egg, but all your attention has latched onto a single word that equally intrigues as it concerns you.

“Tried.” You echo, leaning to balance on your crutch and free up your unbroken arm. You press a single finger against the rim of the dish in her hands, lowering it down and away from your face. Starfire looks a little sheepish as she curls an arm around the ceramic, rounded dish and fits it into the crook of her elbow to rest, lifting her own newly freed arm to sweep a lock of hair behind her ear. A nervous tick.

She hugs the dish even closer, “There were…the incidents.”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle.” Raven adds from afar. Starfire leans around you to beam at her welcome encouragement; seeming as though she’s already seconds away from just fly-tackling her into a vice-like hug—a very Starfire act of affection.

Which you should probably redirect now, if you want to keep that beautiful canopy standing.

"Everything smells great, Star. Thank you. In fact..." You select a spoon from the first table and a tiny serving plate, before gesturing in silent question to the dish still in her arms. She’s ecstatic at your offer, extending it to you at once with bright, shining eyes. You carefully ladle out a few spoonfuls of the rice mixture, and with a playful cheers and raise of your spoon, you taste your first dish of the evening.

"Oh shit, that's good." You groan in surprise.

"Oh wonderful, I knew you would enjoy it!"

Beast Boy whoops eagerly from the centre of the second table, crouching among a spread of simple desserts. "Wicked! I call the donuts next!"

Cyborg anticipates his movement before you can, firmly squashing a hand against Beast Boy’s monkey head to keep him from leaping towards an open tray. Beast Boy whines openly at the injustice.

"Dude, come on, be cool!"

Ah, now that makes sense.

Starfire sighs and returns the tasty rice dish to its rightful place, hesitating only to shoot you an apologetic look as she steps towards the commotion. But you just smile in understanding, gesturing for her to go on and deal with the boys before they decimate all of her hard work.

And now it’s probably a good idea to clear the blast zone.

You make a rather slow beeline for the front entrance of the canopy, lowering your body down to sit in the place Raven silently offers you by shifting pointedly to the side—content to be off your feet for a moment. Raven picks up on your underlying curiosity though, the second you glance at the box still under her scrutiny, her gaze cutting up to regard you with the slightest touch of amusement.

You observe the way she tips her head, a pulse of darkened magic lighting up around the mysterious container, and it slides in a short burst to rest in front of you.

Well, well, what do we have here?

You peer down into the depths and react too late to stifle your gasp.

It’s filled with boxes of classic party games and entertainment, stacked upon each other in neat little towers along the inside: video game cartridges and two portable games devices, a deck of cards, Connect Four, Cluedo, and yep….that's definitely Twister, oh my fuck (you may be a little over excited for this. Which is strange for you...considering you can't even remember the last time you've ever so passionately, deeply, viscerally, wanted to roll out a stupid, colorful tarp and contort your body into unhealthy positions), a wooden board and an accompanying game-piece tin for Checkers, Pictionary, Monopoly, Jenga, Uno, the Game of Life (aaaannd too real with this one actually, might be avoiding that), Guess Who?, Snakes and Ladders, as well as games you hadn't seen since your earlier days of childhood—Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots and Hungry Hungry Hippos (meaning your small child self is living right now).

Only one person knew about this, knew about your stupid birthday-candle wishes from the short, hopeful part of your childhood that's since been eradicated by harsh realities; the longing desperation to make any kind of worthwhile connection, to know love or be wanted outside of a means to a quick pay-day.

To swing with others at a crowded park, to play games and join clubs, or have a sleepover with greasy food and late night truths—to be free (and you blame this emotional vomit entirely on exhausted, blabbermouth you, spilling your guts in a tired stupor while sharing stove-top hot chocolate in the kitchen at 3 a.m. Feeling vulnerable when he'd quietly shared his own frustrations with the role of leader and recent disconnect with his father, letting you lament in return about never getting the chance to just…be a normal kid. Something he understood. Something he remembered).

Oh, Dick Grayson.

You are the best of us.

You shake your head clear of any vivid memories, reaching in to unearth the Twister box and hold it up to admire its magnificence in the rapidly fading light. "So.” You start in what you hope is a casual enough tone, exchanging the box for another to seem busy. “You put all of this together, huh?"

She shrugs, "We figured you could use some...fun. After everything that's happened."

You grin and fish out an exceptionally old classic next, pointing the vibrant box of colourful, caricature hippos at her. "I didn't think this was your kind of fun, Rae."

"It's not.” Raven admits bluntly, floating the game from your hands despite your protest and back into the storage container with a challenging raise of her brow. “But I can enjoy the value in it. And in spending time with my friends."

(You don’t do enough of that. Why don’t you do enough of that?)

"Pfft are you going soft on us?" You say, weakly avoiding eye contact while wrestling away the any more intrusive thoughts and stabs of related guilt.

You watch her fight the beginnings of a smirk, "I could ask you the same question."

"Oh man, that's disgusting even for you B.B!" Cyborg grouses suddenly in the distance, and you’ve never felt so relieved for a distraction in your young life. Your friend is standing in front of the farthest food table when you look over, his hands on his hips and a frown of disapproval trained on something among the mass of dishes and delicious smelling cuisine.

You find out why when you follow his line of sight, your body and gaze lifting a tad to seek out what’s happened—and you can’t say you’re all too surprised with this inevitable development.

Beast Boy is laying, dramatically draped, across the tray of donuts he’d been denied earlier, monkey toes wriggling to dispel powdered sugar from between them.

"Let me live my life, man." He jokes between fistfuls of sweet pastry. Cyborg makes a grab for him in retaliation and he jerks back out of reach as if fully expecting this outcome, throwing himself to the side in a graceful dodge.

"Halt! Oh please do watch out for the—"

In his flurry of movement—kicking out his legs for momentum and rolling head over feet to a neat stop a few feet further down the table—Beast Boy accidently whacks the side of another bowl near the edge, the dish teetering dangerously on the precipice of destruction.

But Starfire is always quick on her feet. She lunges for the bowl and makes the catch before it can fall victim to the laws of gravity (those you’re already painfully aware of), cradling it safely in her arms and sighing in relief as she cordially lifts it in your direction.

"Do not fear! I have saved the mac of the cheese!"

"Though it has its moments." Raven deadpans, flipping up her hood with a shake of her head.

"Speaking of moments…is this a good time for a dramatic entrance?"

Starfire whirls around unearthly fast at the familiar voice, the echo spiking through the low, near constant beat and rhythm drifting from the speakers of the boom box—none of you having heard a door open or close, or even a single footfall drop onto the roof.

"Robin! You have made it!"

Alright.

You know he’s practically a ninja (because it’s what he’s been dutifully trained to do), but you still think this deserves a hearty what the hell anyway.

How long has he even been standing there?

Though before you can reflect too deeply on the matter, you find yourself bearing witness to Robin’s handling of the fly-tackle hug. To his credit, he takes the sudden, colliding weight like a champ; a short laugh ripped from him at the initial breath-stealing thump, and he stumbles back to restore his balance without falling on his ass.

You can tell that he’s definitely a pro at this by now.

He gives her a generous, friendly squeeze before they part, turning his attention back to the rest of his team. It’s then you fully take in how he’s dressed; slim-fitting jeans, a dark blue tee, a solid, gray flannel shirt over top—unbuttoned and left hanging open, long sleeves rolled up at to his elbows—and red converse.

His knee is still in a brace, a black watch with a stiff Kevlar strap fastened around his left wrist, its face square and rimmed with silver. And from your place you can even study the state of his dark hair—soft and without gel, but noticeably mussed like he’s been running his fingers through it all day.

"There's our fearless leader!” You warmly call out, letting Raven ease you helpfully to your feet so that you can welcome your newly arrived team member. You lightly bump your cast against his shoulder once you reach him, and then again just to be annoying when he nudges your arm away the first time (but not without a fond roll of his eyes).

With less distance your gaze finds thin, pink marks left like badges on his skin, the stitches having already healed and dissolved from under his chin and across his collarbone, his blue eyes a little hazy in their focus.

All in all, he looks tired up this close, in small ways you might overlook in passing—his grin beginning to wilt just at the upper corners of his lips, dropping eyelids and subtle bruising under his eyes, and the barest smudges of oil left neglected on his person; freckle-like specks across his jaw, staining the toes of his converse and the collar of his t-shirt (that particular one looking especially dark and ingrained into the fabric, like he’d hastily blotted at the spot in a rush and then gave up half-way through)—though you wouldn’t guess it from his posture.

He’s all squared shoulders, a confident lift of his head and a soft, delighted glint in his eyes despite the heaviness you’d noticed before. He’s proud even in the face of exhaustion, so you elect not to bring any attention to it.

“I was beginning to think Batman whisked you off back home for some clown-punching and father-son bonding." You continue impishly, mimicking his mentor’s cowl by placing an index finger on either side of your head. You bounce them up and down in a tease.

"No, that was last month.” Robin reminds you dryly, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder at the open elevator door he’d obviously emerged from. “I was actually just finishing up some final touches on an old friend of yours."

Huh. O…kay?

"Ominous." Cyborg offers before you can voice your own confusion, settling back against a food table with a deviously knowing smile.

Best Boy huffs with palpable disappointment instead, climbing swiftly onto the ledge behind his friend. He scuttles around a portion of the roof to sit beside the thumping boom box, while still taking time to throw out his own affirmation on the matter, before shifting back into his human form and swinging his dangling legs to the beat of the current song.

"Yeah, way creepy, dude."

Robin frowns, “I was being mysterious!”

Cyborg seems to be enjoying this immensely for some reason, leaning forward and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, don’t.”

“Damn. Don’t hold anything back.”

“Do not worry, Robin.” Starfire remarks with a pat to his shoulder, “I still find you the mysterious.”

You try to stifle your sputtering laughter as Robin sighs in defeat, reaching up to touch her hand in wordless thanks. He motions for you to stay where you are then, swiping his finger across the face of his watch. It lights up blue like a touch screen, and something large and humming (a machine?) darts from the inside of the elevator.

The futuristic motorcycle that slides to a near-silent stop in front of you is like something right out of Tron. There’s a high leather seat and bullet-proof windshield among sleek, rounded black metal and glowing, magnetic green lights. They detail the length of the body like racing stripes, circling around the headlights and up into the shape of a triangle above them, as well as lining the inside rims of its large, treaded wheels (two in front and one in the back). The padded, silver handles poke through the front casing like devil horns.

It’s a familiar, wrenching image—one you could only dream of seeing again after the brutal attack on Jump City.

"Lucy!” You burst out instantly, and much to the Robin’s immense enjoyment, hopping forward in your excitement to reach your beloved cycle. You trace your fingers over the glowing triangle, pressing your palm to the leather seat with stinging, blurry eyes. It feels warm. Alive. “Oh my crap, you resurrected my bike!"

Cyborg gently pats the cycle with pride, "Rob and I spent weeks trying to fix her up. Finally got all the parts working again."

"You—this is—holy shit."

"Glad you like it."

Robin throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, pretending not notice your muffled sniffling like a super-star best friend. "Happy birthday, (Y/N)." He mutters, loosening the fancy watch so he can clasp it around your unbroken wrist in a nimble flourish.

Cyborg pumps his fist in the air when you choke out a disbelieving laugh, victoriously striding to the centre of the roof to proclaim:

"Well, what are we standing around here for? Let's get this thing started!"

“Oh yes, let us start the celebration my friends!”

“Eh, sure.”

"Party people!" Beast Boy cries out in agreement, finally leaping down from the ledge.

"Alright, Alright. You don't have to tell me twice." Robin chuckles, gesturing for the others to go ahead with the festivities. He stays to hover around you though, and is suspiciously quiet at first, simply stepping around you and your newly built cycle to pluck a can of soda from a food table. He idly brushes away condensation with a broad swipe of his thumb, waiting for the others to further disband around you both.

When the coast is clear, evident by the way he glances from side to side, he turns towards you with his head down, popping the tab on the can and taking a heavy gulp. You raise a brow and wait, more than aware of his tendency by now to try and constantly torture you with the value of patience. He purses his lips in thought, before he finally meets your gaze with a playful twist to his usual smirk.

“So, hey.” He begins somewhat offhandedly, drumming his fingers across the surface of the table, “We should take a team picture at some point. All of us. Like a…memory of tonight’s occasion—if you want.”

You shouldn’t make it this easy for him—because he’ll never stop teasing you about how quickly you caved—but you find that you truly do like the idea. He just doesn’t need to know how much at the moment. So you settle on feigning tired reluctance, hoping (fooslishly) that he doesn’t see right through you.

“It wouldn’t hurt, I guess.”

“You guess?”

….

It’s really annoying when he does that.

You pout at the light amusement in his tone and follow his earlier path to the table, seizing a donut in a moment of pure impulse from the tray Beast Boy had previously vacated. You feel satisfied when you notice that it’s one of the unfortunate monkey feet ones, and then thrust it into Robin’s free hand.

He must have been around long enough to see the offense for himself, because his nose crinkles in distaste when he registers what you’ve given him, letting the tainted pastry dangle from two fingers.

Sweet revenge.

You dole out smirk of your own.

“Eat your donut, dick.”

*****************************************************************

It’s well into the evening, sunset colours already fading calmly from the sky, when Robin parks himself next to you on the ledge of the roof, smoothly swinging his legs over and dropping to sit with a long sigh of relief. Huh…it seems like someone definitely had a longer day today than they let on.

And honestly? Mood.

You tap him with the rounded bottom of the crutch lying across your lap, throwing him a cursory glance and a smile in greeting. But he doesn’t respond the way you expect him to, no. Instead, you’re surprised to see that rare, relaxed grin of his already peeking through all of the obvious exhaustion.

"What are you smiling about, Grayson? You're creeping me out." You muse gently, brow arching at the amusement that grows all the more in the curl of his smile. It’s like he’s proudly uncovered some great secret in the time it took you to voice your thoughts, and is now going to make you work for a satisfying answer. Which, you have to admit, isn’t a very unusual outcome when it comes to your friend and his bat-crazy mentor.

Heh.

Gar would love that one.

"Oh, you know…nothing too important.” Robin counters with a non-committal shrug of his shoulder.

Uhhh, yeah, that’s not comforting in the slightest, you decide.

You narrow your eyes at him and poke at his upper arm accusingly, “You’re never really this terrible of a liar usually.”

“Well, usually isn’t now.”

You pause to let his utter nonsense sink in.

“Are all detectives this uselessly cryptic or is this just a you thing?”

“I think it’s a family thing actually.”

“That I believe.” You laugh, gripping tight to the edge of the concrete ledge with one hand as you lean forward to admire the twinkling darkness of the water far below—a beautiful, convoluted gloom in the beginnings of silver moonlight. You catch his lingering stare in your peripheral when you shift, an odd amount of softness there you’re not exactly used to seeing directed your way.

“What?” You ask again in exasperation (and maybe a tad more overly sharp than you wanted). He only winks when you turn to get a better read on him, and looking much too smug and unconcerned, tips his head back to study the distant, firefly-like pinpricks of light just now glittering through the encroaching dark above you.

There’s a blissful beat of silence between the continuously wafting smells (of heavy spices and cheese and the lingering sweetness of fancy chocolate) and the nearby ambient sounds of your friends locked in an intense game of Jenga (their laughter and conversation—Raven is definitely on a roll by the sounds of it—the clinking of cutlery and plates, and the low, near-constant pop music blanketed beneath it all), and then—

“Welcome home.” He says quietly.

You stare at him a moment longer; hesitant, flustered, warm—like some kind of utter punch-drunk goober—until your gaze slips mercifully back to the sky, drawn in by the trembling might of the stars far out of reach.

And you let the moment sit within the unexpected, peaceful calm his voice brings, unbroken without a sarcastic quip or cynical remark, just this once. A moment to find value in.

Because this is your family, or….what you’d always imagined one to be.

So, even though you’d never truly been privy to a lot of happiness before this—this tiny, momentous moment right where you need to be; sitting on the roof ledge of your home—you find your own sense of peace in thinking that here and now, if there ever was a happy place in this life for you—

This is it.

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this-is-a-podcast-fanblog · 5 years

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ok here’s my really long night vale meta

(I want to just start by saying that I love Welcome to Night Vale more than any other show that I’ve ever listened to or watched. I’m not sure if I would even still be here without the positive change it brought to my life and the art form it introduced me to. So although this post is critical of recent story develops, please understand that I critique with love, and that I have nothing but the highest respect for the writers and cast.)

So let’s get into it.

This turned out way longer than I meant for it to be.

Since the beginning, each season of Welcome to Night Vale is basically self-contained. The things brought up in them can stretch across seasons, but for the most part any conflict or Big Bad brought up will be resolved when that season ends, which typically is on June 15th.

Let’s look at the first five seasons and their overarching in-season arcs.

Season One: The introduction season. This season laid the groundwork for all the seasons to come and established Cecilos. The arc of the Apache Tracker was resolved within this season.

Season Two: The Strexcorp season. This season taught us a lot about the characters, and about Desert Bluffs.

Season Three: The auction season. This is also the long-distance relationship season for Cecil and Carlos. Both plotlines are resolved beautifully by the end and relate well to each other.

Season Four: The beagle season. Also known as “Who’s a good boy?”. The evil beagle puppy was defeated by the end of the season. I felt like this season’s arc felt very natural and was enjoyable to listen to.

Season Five: The Huntokar season. A lot of things that have been building slowly come together. We finally meet Huntokar after hearing a lot about her throughout the show. The small arc of converging timelines is resolved, but as we will see, it later comes back.

So that’s the first five seasons.

Now, as far as writing styles go, Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor are pretty formulaic. (This is also evident in their other shows, Alice Isn’t Dead and Within the Wires). I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all. Quite the opposite - I think one of the reasons why Night Vale is so endearing to so many people is because you always know what to expect: the complete unexpected. The world is weird and it doesn’t make sense, but it’s consistent in its inconsistency. You’ll get a community calendar or sponsor, you’ll get deep thoughts about life, and you’ll get a weather. Similarly, with the seasons, you’ll get a problem introduced over the course of the season, and then it will be resolved.

But as you can probably see from the list I’ve written out, the seasons don’t exist in a bubble from each other. The things that happen affect each other. The arrival of Strexcorp in town was what eventually drove Carlos through into the desert otherworld, which set up the conflict for season 3. The tiny city under the bowling alley in season 1 was revisited to teach us more about Huntokar in season 5. Each season has a different flavor, but they’re all ultimately the same dish, if that metaphor makes any sense.

And this is where we get into the issues I’ve been having with the most recent three seasons. My biggest problem is simple. They just don’t have a distinct flavor like the other seasons do. They don’t have anything that stands out to me.

Let’s take a look at seasons six and seven, and then the first episode that dropped today of season eight.

Season Six: The guest writer season. This season was mostly written with guest writers that would do a mini-arc of two to three episodes.

Season Seven: The Carlos’s Double/Blood Space/Lee Marvin/Thanos-Snap season. Not sure what else to call it.

The basic premise of season six was that it would be a bunch of character-driven stories set in the world of Night Vale, most of which were written by guest writers. To me, worldbuilding and characters are more important than plot every time, so I didn’t hate this as a concept. It was just... the execution honestly wasn’t all that interesting to me. I feel like the way the characters were discussed moved their placement within the world, but it didn’t actually change anything we knew about them. Tamika’s episodes, for example, didn’t really show us anything new about her, they just showed us how she acted as a city council leader instead of a militia leader (spoiler alert: pretty much exactly the same).

My biggest problem with season six is that it set up a lot without actually doing anything. All of the best moments from season six were things I thought we would revisit later: who will be the mayor now that Dana stepped down? What is it Carlos is still keeping from Cecil? What’s up with the shipwreck? But then all of these things were totally forgotten in season seven. It was like the writers didn’t care. That may be because they were established by different writers, but it still feels... I don’t know, *Cecil voice* Incomplete?

Now let’s talk season seven. I think season six was definitely the weakest of all Night Vale seasons, but this was a close second (and that shows you how much I love this show, because even the weakest seasons had moments that blew me away, and I’ve relistened to most of the episodes at least once, if not more.) Season seven, like season six, just had way too much going on. For the first few months there was no plot whatsoever, just a bunch of disjointed episodes with seemingly no relation to each other.

And don’t get me wrong - I think a lot of these episodes were amazing. Are You Sure? was thrilling, totally game-changing for podcasts. Save Dark Owl Records was a really great look at Maureen and Michelle. I’ve relistened to UFO Sightings a bunch. But there’s a difference between enjoying episodes alone and thinking they fit in a larger story. And so while I really like a lot of the episodes of season seven... they’re kind of pointless story-wise. What disappointed me the most was the Kevin mini-series near the start of the season - Kevin is one of my favorite characters, and so while I liked to see him happy, I was annoyed that they forgot about him again after the arc ended and they moved on.

That’s because season seven didn’t really have a story - it had a bunch of stories. The problem is that they weren’t introduced until near the very end. We had the Lee Marvin arc that started somewhere in the middle, and I did like that. I thought it was cool to take what seemed like a throwaway gag and turn it into a story, especially one that seemed relatable. But running this arc concurrently with the Blood Space War arc didn’t make any sense to me. There were a bunch of times that I thought the two could relate - linking time travel to being trapped in time would be pretty easy, I thought. But that never happened.

Then the Blood Space War arc nosedived into a pit of emotion after both Cecil and Carlos were erased from history, and I was ecstatic. Not that Cecil and Carlos had been erased - but that the show was taking such a drastic emotional change. It felt like a shift in tone, but also consistent to the show’s format, hitting that perfect sweet spot. I was even more excited when I found out that the resolution to this was that Leonard Burton would have to die again. That seemed like the perfect end to his (albeit brief) character arc, and a great emotional high for the season.

And then the next episode was just... Cecil saying everything had been fixed.

That really disappointed me. It felt so anticlimactic, especially considering the heights some of the other season finales had reached (I’m especially thinking of the dog’s ominous barking right before the finale of Who’s A Good Boy, and the town almost being destroyed). The ending to the Blood Space War arc felt rushed to me. I liked the close of the Lee Marvin arc, but everything else seemed a little off-beat.

I think a big problem with season six and seven is they try to take us to new things within the world of Night Vale, but they do that in a way that doesn’t actually show us anything we need to learn. Eunomia hadn’t been in any other seasons and her backstory was minimal, so her death in season seven had no real impact on me.

So why are they doing that? I don’t know. But it seems like the writing team has made the decision to utilize Cecil more as a voice for the town than an independent character, and are trying to let other people take the spotlight. However, because Cecil is by far one of the strongest and most beloved character, and because he drove most of the story for the first few seasons, this doesn’t work as well as you might hope.

I hoped that season eight might go back to the old format. However, the first episode was another self-contained episode (although I do love Josh Crayton), so that has me worried.

I guess I can say, there’s a difference between a story podcast and a storytelling podcast, does that make sense? Those might overlap, but they aren’t really the same thing. While a story podcast exists to have an overarching plot, a storytelling podcast just wants to put you in a world and let you look around. What I love so much about Night Vale is that it has always been able to be both. It has a plot, but it isn’t just a plot like many other shows are - it can let you walk around, run from government satellites, and NOT enter the dog park.

However, it seems to me that Night Vale is forgetting it does have a story, too. There are still SO many things from past arcs that haven’t been resolved yet. What’s more, the show doesn’t seem all that interested in resolving them. You can have floating cats and five-headed dragons, but you can’t give up an essential part of your show. That doesn’t mean the show can’t still be fun to listen to, if they decide the plot no longer matters. But I think it will be a little less rewarding.

And to finish I’ll just share my biggest fear: I really really really hope Night Vale isn’t going to become normal. At the end of season seven, time started working again. I’m so scared that they’re going to slowly convert the whole town to being normal before the show ends. And I think that would really suck, because it would change what Night Vale means to a lot of people, and what the town really is.

TL;DR: although it is one of the greatest shows ever, Welcome to Night Vale has recently started to stray from its established formulas, tropes and characters, especially in seasons six and seven. While this is not necessarily a bad thing, I feel like the way it’s been executed has weakened the recent episodes. Seasons six and seven also tried to fit too much in without actually doing anything to advance certain arcs or plot points. Nonetheless, it is a great show, and I’m optimistic about the future.

I’d love to have a dialogue about this so if you are the one person alive who’s going to read this, please don’t hesitate to comment or send an ask! Again, I absolutely love this show, these are all just my opinions, and my ability to critique the show exists outside of my adoration for it.

Now I should sleep.

#It's one am #this is not beta'd #and my formatting is all over the place #but here you go #please someone read this #welcome to night vale #night vale presents #podcasts #meta #my meta #cecil palmer #carlos the scientist #cecilos #all hail the glow cloud

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raeynbowboi · 5 years

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Top 10 Disney Villains

10. King Candy Wreck-It Ralph (2012)

Although he’s newer to the villain roster, King Candy was a well-written villain who served as a perfect blend of humorous and genuinely threatening. He also tied very nicely into the themes of the film, which makes him stand out in my memory as a good villain, because I take more than just personality and actions into account when judging characters, but also role in the narrative, and how they support the themes and ideas of the story. King Candy is the perfect villain for a story like this, which is why I consider him good enough to be on this list, even if as a villain himself, he might not be the most memorable among the Disney canon.

9. Gaston Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Perhaps the Disney villain we’re most likely to meet in real life, Gaston is the perfect example of toxic masculinity on full display. He’s a great anthithesis to the Beast, though I never saw him all that handsome, which sort of detracts just a little bit from the story. But in a story about how looks don’t matter, but actions do, he’s a great foil to the love interest. He’s a selfish hateful man who is handed everything he wants, and when he doesn’t get his way, he strongarms people until they meet his demands. Yet, despite his personality, he retains a legion of followers who are more-so admirers than actual friends. He never once considers anyone to be his equal or of sufficient worth unless it was helpful in his own endeavors. And anyone who has ever had a friend who basically used them and then ditched them at the soonest convenience can probably recognize that kind of so-called “friend” in Gaston. He’s a great villain to dissect as an analysis of our current culture, but I don’t want to write a five page essay on Gaston for a top 10 list.

8. Yzma Emperor’s New Groove (2000)

Inarguably Disney’s best comedic villain (not counting her henchman Kronk), Yzma is a brilliantly funny character whose exaggurated appearance and over-the-top personality blend well with the fast-paced slapstick comedy that fills the movie. Yet, despite being a funny villainess, she avoids a major pitfall of many comedic villains by also being legitimately threatening and dangerous to our heroes. That, combined with the excellent writing in the movie makes Yzma so memorable and likable.

7. Mother Gothel Tangled (2010)

Although her actual villainous actions in the movie are surprsingly few and far between, I genuinely love Mother Gothel as a villainess. Her motivations are well-established, and she’s the sole reason the story has any plot at all. Comparisons have been made to the living conditions of both Quasimodo and Rapunzel, and I would genuinely agree that Mother Gothel is akin to a diet version of Frollo without all the genocide and religious superiority. She has to be more discreet and pretend to be kind in order to keep her little flower content to remain obedient locked away from the outside world. It makes total sense the way she treats Rapunzel, and her entire character, personality, and role all fit together to enhance the narrative of the story.

6. Long John Silver Treasure Planet (2002)

Arguably one of the most human villains from Disney, Silver is a beautiful complexity as he juggles the duality of being a father-figure to the impressionable young Jim, while also betraying Jim’s trust. Since Jim’s father left when he was a child, Jim closes himself off from people and seems adrift in the world. Silver, who has no need to trick the boy for his mutiny to succeed, still takes the time to take Jim under his wing, nurture the boy’s abilities, and form a bond. Heck, with how relatively apathetic Jim was, he could have manipulated Jim into hating being on the ship, and thus have him be happy when the mutiny sets him free. But instead, he chose to teach the boy and boost his confidence. In the end, Silver is a compelling Anti-Villain where it’s hard to really define him as a good or wicked person. That is honestly more interesting than just being a straight deceitful villain.

5. Bill Sykes Oliver & Company (1988)

Perhaps the most surprising choice on my list, Sykes was a villain from Oliver & Company, a retelling of Oliver Twist with stray dogs and a kitten. However, despite Disney’s family friendly brand, Sykes is a surprisingly menacing character. A loan shark and a cut-throat business man, he spends most of the movie threatening to kill Fagin which is far darker than Disney tends to get. While many Disney villains want to kill people, those desires were driven by personal grievances with that person or people. With Sykes, it’s cold, ruthless business. He doesn’t care about Fagin’s life. All he cares about is getting his money, and Fagin’s life just happens to be the collateral. It’s the purest form of cold-blooded murder, and that’s not a common thing among Disney villains.

4. Ursula The Little Mermaid (1989)

There’s a good reason Ursula is one of the flagship villains of this franchise. She has a strong personality, is a great antagonist, and directly plays off the protagonist’s weaknesses to win. Second only to Scar, and possibly Jafar, Ursula is the classic hand-drawn animated Disney villain to get closest to winning. The fact that she’s based on a drag queen is kind of perfect, since the fairytale was written by Hans Christian Andersen to express his love for Edvard Collin discreetly. He intended to give it to Edvard as a wedding gift, but Edvard and his wife purposefully “forgot” to tell him when the wedding was out of fear that he’d make a scene or announce his love for Edvard in front of everyone. Thus, the mermaid’s taboo love of someone she shouldn’t who comes from an entirely different way of living is a direct parallel to Hans’ feelings for the young Gentleman, and the mermaid being unable to speak and suffering greatly to be near her love is a clear metaphor for Hans’ own feelings of torture. So the inclusion of a drag queen in a movie adaptation of a covert metaphorical gay romantic tragedy is just deliciously fitting.

3. The Horned King The Black Cauldron (1984)

Sykes got a place on this list for being genuinely intimidating, but this villain is living nightmare fuel. One of the best things a genuinely threatening villain can do is successfully scare you, and this villain scared the living daylights out of me as a child. In fact, he was the only Disney villain to truly and completely scare me as a child. The rest of the villains were pretty much just bad characters, but the Horned King was far more terrifying than anything else I’d seen as a kid. Though his movie bombed and the story itself was a bit lacking, the Horned King was a genuinely horrifying presence, and to this day, I can’t think Disney Villains without this guy clawing his way into my mind. Maybe as a villain himself, he’s a bit flat, but he’s a horrific undead murderous monster trying to snuff out all life. He doesn’t need to be that complex for what he is, and that works with the type of villain that he was created to be.

2. Claude Frollo The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (1996)

If Sykes made it to number 5 for the cold-blooded attempt at murder on one person, Frollo strolls into 2nd place for his cold-blooded successful mass racial/ethnic genocide of multiple people over a long reign of tyranny. Although we don’t see his treats on-screen, he very verbally implies that he has been executing people one by one for at least twenty years as he crushes ants. We even see him barricade a family with children inside of their house and then proceed to burn it down. This man is not messing around, and I love it. When it coems to dark, twisted, and messed up villains, Frollo takes the cake. He is hands down one of the greatest and most horrible villains out there. And the fact that he does this all in the name of God is a hauntingly dark reminder of the true cruelty of the medieval Christian church. Frollo was written in the original book to be a deliberate critique of the Catholic church, and I for one am grateful that Disney decided to be faithful to Frollo’s horrible nature when adapting to film.

1. Maleficent Sleeping Beauty (1959)

Finally, we reach the leader of the Disney Villains. How could I not put her at the top of this list? She literally fights with all the powers of Hell. But what I like most about her is what you can piece together from the narrative. Out of all the fairies, only Fauna thinks that Maleficent could be reasoned with, and she feels sad at the idea that Maleficent may not even grasp the concept of happiness, or what it feels like to be loved. This opens Maleficent up to being a product of abuse, abandonment, and bitterness. Her hatred for the world and her actions of spite and envy come into a new light with the idea that it’s kindled from neglect and exclusion from others. It offers the question of what would happen if someone did try to just talk to her, and offers a possibly sympathetic reading of her character. But, the true crux of what Maleficent stands for is that she’s evil, and she takes great pleasure in her evil ways. She cursed a baby because she wasn’t invited to a party. When it comes to pure, unfiltered evil, Maleficent has that in spades. So, Maleficent is a perfect character no matter which type you prefer as a villain: the tormented outcast lashing out, or the heartless monster lighting the world on fire for fun. No matter what kind of villain you prefer, there’s a way of reading her narrative to satisfy you.

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