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bettsfic · 2 years

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i know in the past you've made "fix-it" scenario posts where you write out how you would've wanted a certain story to go (like the star wars sequel trilogy) and they are always so brilliant and fun and so much better than anything boring men in the writer's room came up with. in your ideal world, how could stranger things s4 plot have gone if/how chrissy survived? (i'm looking at this through my grubby lil hellcheer glasses) (pls don't feel obligated to answer! only if you have time ofc.)

very cool question!

(stranger things s4 spoilers ahead)

this got long, so i'm putting it under a cut.

so when i've written fixit things in the past, it's usually pretty easy because the writing is so sloppy and the character motivations are flat and uninteresting. so really all i do is tidy the story up and give the characters a touch more nuance.

the problem with stranger things is that it's working in the total opposite direction. it's too tidy. in fact after i got this ask i thought about it for a good half an hour and every single time i moved or changed a piece of plot, it had major repercussions for the rest of the plot. the s4 plot was woven so well that at the end i was like, there's no way i'd ever be able to write something as tightly woven as this. i lack the skill for it definitely but i also lack the interest. big plotty plots with many characters reacting to outright, unquestionable evil is just not my aesthetic wheelhouse.

which is all to say, there's nothing to really fix, exactly. i think eddie and chrissy are a huge missed opportunity, but i don't think chrissy dying is bad writing. (eddie's death was some of the weakest writing in the whole show imo [because he could have lived, like the plot did not force him to die, it just decided to, and i think there's a big difference], but the duffer brothers keep writing themselves into a corner where they make these phenomenal one-shot characters and can't keep them because there are already too many characters.)

so i think what we'd have to do is go back to season 3 and have billy live so he can stick around for the repercussions of his actions to be addressed in season 4. i really liked billy conceptually (and dear god dacre montgomery is hot) but ofc they made him a racist and so i just couldn't give a fuck about him. let's say they didn't do that and billy is still fucking awful but redeemable. (also while we're rewriting season 3, let's also say he boned mike's mom.)

billy is alive for season 4, and so max's plot would involve billy somehow so she doesn't get cursed. possibly redemption arc? we just need max out of the cursed ptsd kid fodder lineup. (by the way, that is my least favorite trope of all time. curse/monster attacks kids with ptsd only. like i watch stories like that and i'm like, yeah that'd be me. i'd be dead.)

we now have a totally unnecessary E plot in addition to plots A through D. but we're not bound by the physical constraint of production, so it's fine. i don't know what exactly would go in E plot except billy, max, and lucas feeling their feelings. which honestly i would be okay with.

that frees up max's story in plot B to go to chrissy. so she's not as far along in her vecna symptoms as the others yet but still having enough trouble to reach out to eddie for some weed. (this is where things get tough because there are so many tiny threads to consider.) but let's just say nancy's friend, vecna victim #2 becomes vecna victim #1, and his death happens near/around/in eddie's trailer somehow, so that chrissy is implicated in the murder and they both have to go on the run.

jason's plot would then turn into finding chrissy, who is missing and presumed dead because he believes eddie is a murderer on a rampage, etc. so instead of avenging her death, he's just trying to find her. all of this to say, i need chrissy and eddie trapped in a boathouse together with nothing to do but talk and fall in love. and this fits aesthetically with the "opposites attract in states of extreme danger" trope that littered 80s action movies.

so chrissy is with eddie the whole time. they escape on the water together running from jason, because by this point chrissy has sided with eddie and knows that if she gives herself up, jason will harm/kill eddie for kidnapping her or whatever.

the guy, jason's friend, is vecna victim #2 and opens the gate to the upside down. now chrissy's plot is tied firmly into plot B and everything happens basically the same except chrissy is in the upside down with the rest of the big kids and we would get some gratuitous protective eddie. which i think would also lower the pressure on steve/nancy which, i mean, i love a good love triangle and i enjoyed that tension but it feels a little hamfisted to me.

meanwhile, in our newly forged plot E, billy has started to exhibit vecna symptoms. and we know he is Doomed, because there would be a scene where he hangs out with max and has a good time and maybe even smiles. but! we don't know how far along he is in comparison to chrissy, so we aren't sure who is next.

imagine: chrissy in the upside down, her cheerleading uniform all torn up and dirty. she has no idea how to fight but she is doing her best. she's lost that cute little sweater she has. eddie gives her his jacket.

here's where i a little bit lose track of things, but roughly what would happen is that plots B and E would merge so that the big kids + dustin and lucas could try to help billy, which would fail and billy would die. (listen i hate redeemed characters dying as much as anyone else, but this is about hellcheer so sacrifices must be made.)

that leaves chrissy and eddie to take over the final scenes that max and lucas have, and eddie can still get his big damn hero moment by fighting jason, which makes more sense than lucas fighting him anyway. there is no random bat protection setup, because that's stupid. i know we sacrifice eddie's guitar solo but let's say there's a scene in episode 1 where we get to see him play at the hideout or something to make up for it.

imagine: instead of max listening to kate bush (sorry kate bush), chrissy's song that helps her get away from vecna is eddie's demo tape or something. so she's just constantly listening to eddie's music because it makes her feel safe and eddie has to pretend he's not dying about it.

imagine also: earlier in the season we have a very tender moment between chrissy and eddie, and because she is a Sad Girl that's what becomes her happy memory when she's trying to get away from vecna, forcing her to realize that even through all this nonsense that this time with eddie has made her happier than anything else ever has. she is determined to live through this so they can be together.

eddie fights jason. chrissy's in vecnaland. plots A and B merge and eleven is fighting vecna. unfortunately this part gets really wobbly because eleven and chrissy have no connection to one another. let's just ignore that because we're not even really addressing plot A here.

let's say this is either the final season or we don't know if there will be a season 5, and therefore things have to wrap up rather than escalate, which means when vecna goes to give the final blow, eleven does her thing a little earlier, preventing chrissy from having all her bones broken and dying for a minute to open the gate. let's say also that vecna is dead and not tease that he's coming back next season, so that the resolution is firmer.

chrissy falls from where she's levitating a few feet off the ground. eddie has knocked out jason or something and he goes to chrissy, holds her, there's crying, there's some cheesy line that joseph quinn somehow fucking nails about how they could have had something real.

and then! chrissy wakes up! she says something romantic and vulnerable. eddie spouts a cheesy one-liner callback to something said earlier to lighten the tension. joseph quinn also nails this because he understands the assignment. they kiss! plots A through E resolve in some way i am not going to bother thinking about.

hellcheer resolution: chrissy is in the hospital. eddie is playing an acoustic guitar. chrissy brings up the tough question: what's he doing after graduation? eddie, who still can't believe he's dating chrissy cunningham: basically nothing. maybe go on tour eventually. maybe record an album. chrissy admits she doesn't really have any plans. no decisions are made, but in the silence they both kind of realize nothing is stopping them from being together. eddie brings up jason. chrissy says her relationship with him is no longer an issue. everyone comes to visit chrissy, because they're all friends now.

tiny epilogue: chrissy and eddie (and the other big kids) at graduation. cute 80s montage set to rock music of all of them getting their diplomas. we see chrissy and eddie making out because they are now That Couple and everyone is already exhausted about it. happily ever after! the end.

bonus epilogue that provides the music for the credits, which are rolling on the right side of the screen: chrissy goes to see eddie play at the hideout.

i know this is a mess but like i said, i am no good at balancing multiple plotlines. or any plotlines, really. and i know i forgot a bunch of stuff because honestly i was playing a game on my phone while watching season 4. i'm not even going to reread this because i'll want to add to it, so. this is the best i can do.

#my fic #do i have a tag for my fixits?#st4 #fixit

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misireads · 3 months

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taivaanpallo by olli jalonen

[ audiobook, listened in finnish ]

a coming-of-age story (well, almost anyway) about a boy who spends his childhood on the small island of saint helena in the 1600s. he's taught to observe the night sky by the british royal astronomer edmond halley who visits the island and then to read and write by a local priest. at around the half-way point of the story, he's sent off to deliver news about unrest on the island to halley who lives in london, and now the country bumpkin boy has to learn the ways of a big city. there's also a shitty boat trip to the UK in the middle there

➕ i do like stories set in real places and name-dropping real historical figures so i can read about them on wikipedia. ➕ there's an interesting theme of religion vs science in here. (at least implied. not very explicit but it's there) ➕ it felt good every time angus got to own some rude asshole with his superhuman eyesight or reading skills. ➕ there isn't anything wrong with this book per se, it's beautifully written in finnish…

➖ …that said, i really really really didn't like this book, for several reasons. most notably, this is part of this genre of finnish literature that's exclusively Very long stories, in a historical setting, and nothing really happens in it. i've read three of these books now. i have not enjoyed any of the three. this is not a genre for me. i literally knew from the very first sentence that i wouldn't like this ➖ second biggest reason and partially tied to the first, is because this book makes me feel stupid for not liking it. it's like ohhh this… epic whatever the shit… wonderful gorgeous language ooh aah so many details, literary genius, what a deep book what a contemporary classic. and i'm like… so i'm stupid for not liking it? is that it? am i too stupid and rotten-brained to appreciate it??? and that's why i hate this book ➖ but also just fucking nothing happens. there is no plot. there is no story arc. there are no highlights. things just happen. sometimes the first-person narration of angus talks about animals on the bible for half an hour (since i listened as an audiobook). i guess this is the sort of story that's meant to evoke thought rather than tell an adventure, or even tell a story really. but i'm not fucking interested in thoughts on god or how filthy people were in 1600s. i'm not interested in random details that go on and on and on and on and you can stop paying attention for an hour and don't miss a single thing about the story because that hour was probably about angus thinking about how he's learned a new thing and how he and his life are now forever changed because he learned the new thing, or going on and on about how he needs to be polite and in what specific ways he needs to be polite and how. i found myself spacing out listening, wondering which ass this author even pulls this shit out of. like, so many details in this book are just so mundane, this is nothing but a flow of mundane scenes and thoughts, and my own experience as a writer and just my writing process in general is so different from this. of course i'm partially in awe that someone's brain works like this that they'll casually drop in all these completely needless details about side characters we hear about once and then never again. but it's exactly that, needless. i didn't need any of that information for anything. another two-star reviewer had left a comment on this saying it felt like it was written with a literary award in mind and that's exactly how i feel too. like sort of pretentious blah blah I'm So Deep whatever garbage ➖ more of a neutral thing but i learned that edmond halley was a real person literally yesterday (and finished the book just now today). so that trivia brought very little to my reading experience.

⭐ score: 2 -- i have nothing more to say. this is the first part of a trilogy and i will now proceed to pretend i didn't know that

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uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

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Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

#mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjirou x male reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo Revengers #Sano Manjirou #sano manjiro #manjiro sano #manjirou sano #i tried #im so sorry #pls dont cancel me #PSA: don't masturbate in the same room as baji

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queenlucythevaliant · 2 years

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Books to gush about: The Sparrow because I've never heard of it but have a long-running personal association with sparrows. Tell me about it!

And Emperor of All Maladies because I think my mom has it and I am curious as to your thoughts

If you're asking about The Sparrow because you are fond of birds, this may not be the book for you. The title merely refers to the God sees when a sparrow falls Scripture verse, not to actual sparrows. I would highly recommend it nevertheless.

The Sparrow is a piercing book full of God and science, fear and wonder. To place it in the schema that's been floating around our little corner of Tumblr, it lies somewhere between the cosmic horror of H.P Lovecraft and the cosmic romance of C.S. Lewis's Space Trilogy. It is awful in both senses of the word: awful and full of awe. Yet unlike Lovecraft and Lewis, Russell does not write about invented cosmic beings of any sort; neither Cthulhu nor Maledil. Russell is an anthropologist by education and it shows. She writes about people and their baggage, about science and sci-fi technobabble, and about a society of aliens that is horrifying in the very banal way that many Godless human societies are horrifying. And then in the midst of it there’s God: our God, who is still sovereign.

Okay, hang on. Gotta back up. Premise:

When we were much younger, my sister and I got into a discussion about what the theological implications of intelligent extraterrestrial life would be. Our conclusion ended up being: Space Missionaries. We were both very excited about this.

We posed the question to our then-pastor a few weeks later. His response was something to the effect of, “well, the aliens wouldn’t be human so they wouldn’t be subject to the fall of man.” In essence, he took the Space Trilogy view of the question.

The Sparrow sides with my sister and me. A group of Jesuit missionaries, along with a few others (an couple in their sixties, a doctor and an engineer, who are basically the mom and dad of the group; a Sephardi Jewish woman who’s been trapped in a kind of intellectual indentured servitude most of her life; an awkward-but-earnest radio telescope operator) go into space following the radio detection of singing coming from another planet. Only one man, Emilio Sandoz, comes back, physically, emotionally, and spiritually shattered from the experience. The story of the signal’s discovery, the journey to the planet, and what happens when they reach it is told in parallel with the story of Emilio’s recovery. It’s horrific. It’s beautiful.

Here’s my favorite part, which I think gets at the very heart of why I love the novel:

"God knows," he [Emilio] said, and there was in his tone both an admission of defeat and a statement of faith.

"See, that’s where it falls apart for me!" Anne cried. "What sticks in my throat is that God gets the credit but never the blame. I just can’t swallow that kind of theological candy. Either God’s in charge or He’s not. What did you do when the babies died, Emilio?"

"I cried," he admitted. "I think sometimes that God needs us to cry His tears." There was a long silence. "And I tried to understand."

"And now? Do you understand?" There was, almost, a note of pleading in her voice. If he told her he did, she’d have believed him. Anne wished that someone could explain this to her and if anyone she knew could understand such things, it might be Emilio Sandoz. "Can you find any poetry in babies dying now?"

"No," he said at last. Then he added, "Not yet. Some poetry is tragic. It is perhaps harder to appreciate."

Anne stood then, tired, for it was the middle of the night, and she was about to go back to bed when she glanced back and saw a familiar look on his face. "What?" she demanded. "What!"

"Nothing." He shrugged, knowing his singular congregation very well. "Only: if this is all that is holding you back from faith, perhaps you should just go ahead and blame God whenever you think it’s appropriate."

Look: people who say that God does not cause (but only ever allows) suffering are deluding themselves. Yes, sin is responsible for the existence of SUFFERING, writ large. But what it comes down to is this: if God is sovereign, God is sovereign. Nothing in the world occurs but for the will of God.

In The Sparrow, God quite clearly leads Emilio and the others to an alien planet. All while the signals are being discovered, the journey planned and undertaken, and even as it falls apart, there is one mantra repeated: God’s will. In Latin: Deus vult. It is repeated enough times that at one point, when disaster is averted, one character says "Okay, okay, Deus vult already!" The crew experience the utmost joy; they get to use their gifts and skills to God’s glory, such that Emilio at one point whispers, “God! I was born for this,” in utter, transcendent delight.

Yet nearly everyone dies. Emilio’s recovery from his ordeal is slow and faltering, full of anger, doubt, spiritual anguish, and physical pain. He suffers from migraines, which resonated particularly strongly with me. He grieves.

God gets the credit and He gets the blame. The crew praises God when the mission runs smoothly. They give Him glory for the wonders they encounter. They can’t find poetry or understanding in the suffering. Some rail against God for bringing it upon them. They cry. The tears are their own, yet also, I think, they are God’s.

The one thing I will say in (mild) criticism of this wonderful book: it is very Catholic and I am very Protestant and sometimes I just had to shake my head and sigh and mutter “... Catholics...” before moving on. I had some relatively small theological quibbles and in a few cases I just didn’t gel with where the narrative put its focus. Much is made of clerical celibacy, in particular. If you're as Protestant as I am, fair warning.

(I am being deliberately vague so as only to give the shape of the book. I don’t think I’ve spoiled anything that isn’t revealed in the first chapter or so. Hopefully those who have read it know what I mean.)

This isn’t a book with easy answers. Rather, it tackles the problem of theodicy head on (and even uses the word theodicy, which I found quite exciting! You don’t often find such specificity in novels tackling this issue.) Sometimes, while reading, you feel as though there is great pit being carved very slowly in your stomach. Yet it is an honest book, and a beautiful one. It’s very human, while at the same time being utterly saturated in lofty thoughts of the Divine.

#i'll do the emperor of all maladies later #i'm glad you asked about the sparrow but now all i can think about is the sparrow #i actually don't own a copy and i literally just called my local Barnes and Noble to see if they have a copy in stock #they don't #but i was fully prepared to walk over and buy one if they did #(i asked for one for one this past Christmas but I think the person I asked forgot)#thank you thank you thank you for the ask #thank you for reminding me of my great love for this book #i think i'm due for a reread soon #ask me hard questions #ask Mary Doria Russell hard questions #ask God hard questions #the sparrow #literature makes us more human

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jamlavender · 3 years

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Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss: Mrs Coulter, misogyny and the His Dark Materials TV show

The show went hard on misogyny as a vital part of Mrs Coulter’s backstory, and I want to talk about how they did it, and why, and how it might have been done better. This is quite long (when is anything I write not, let’s be real) so it’s under the cut. Read on for thoughts on women, power and fictional villainy.

As a quick disclaimer, though: I’ve enjoyed the show a lot! I’m so glad they made it! Ruth Wilson is mesmerising as Mrs Coulter! There’s so much to appreciate about the show overall, including many aspects of Mrs Coulter’s portrayal. But the HDM team have also made gender politics and misogyny very explicit themes of the show – particularly season two, particularly season two, episode five – and I think it’s fair to critique that.

Let’s be clear: Mrs Coulter is a villain. She murders kids by tearing out their souls. She kills and tortures friends and foes alike without a second thought. She abuses her daughter. She upholds and advances a totalitarian regime. She’s a Bad Person, as confirmed by God himself with the unforgettable line: “You are a cesspit of moral filth.” She’s fucking terrible, but, in life as in art, many of us are fascinated by how such awful people are made. What drives someone to commit atrocities? I am keen to see such questions examined in fiction, because I don’t think exploring a character necessarily means excusing their actions, and because it’s interesting (I mean, of course I find her fascinating, I’ve written a novel’s worth of fic about her). However, after a few snarky comments (“What sort of woman raised Father Graves, do you think?”) and some subtler commentary on sexuality, gender and power (her unsettling MacPhail with the key in the bra in S1E2), S2E5 drew a weird line between sexism in Mrs Coulter’s professional and academic life and her vast and senseless institutionalised child murder, and the longer I’ve sat with that the more I’m like: what the fuck?

Look, Mrs Coulter doesn’t tear apart children to search for sin inside them and poison Boreal and break a witch’s fingers because she’s experienced sexism in the workplace and in her education. That’s… a very odd thing to imply. We have to remember that there are lots of women in Lyra’s world, all of whom will also have experienced sexism, misogyny and other forms of marginalisation (many in more expansive and pernicious ways than Mrs Coulter, who’s a woman, yes, but also white, wealthy, highly educated and very thin and beautiful), and none of them are running arctic torture stations. She will have experienced misogyny, absolutely, and that will have affected her in various ways that inform how she approaches her work, but to imply that being denied a doctorate is the reason she became a sadistic killer is frankly bizarre. Here are a few of the lines from that episode with my commentary:

“Do you know who I could have been in this world?” What does this mean? If she’d been roughly the same person in our world, the answer is: Margaret Thatcher, which is probably a step down for Marisa, all things considered, because the Magisterium is far more autocratic than any recent Tory government and would be a much easier institutional environment in which to enact her cruelty. What we’re supposed to think, clearly, is that she’d have been a different person: a scientist and a mother, and she’s had this realisation because she saw a woman with a baby and a laptop and had a three-minute conversation with Mary. This doesn’t make sense. We live in our world! It’s less repressive than Lyra’s world but it’s hardly a gender utopia. If Mrs Coulter had chosen the scientist-and-mother life (which, as I’ll revisit later, she could have done in her world but chose not to because of her megalomaniac tendencies), she’d still have been affected by misogyny here too. Our world is not kind to young mothers, nor young women embroiled in scandals, nor is the world teeming with female physicists. It might be a little better, sure, but it’s hardly as if those gendered challenges would have been solved.

“What do you mean she runs a department?” This is just the show forgetting its own canon. Marisa, you ran a massive government organisation (the GOB), including a huge murder science research initiative in the Arctic. That’s a much bigger undertaking and much more impressive than running a university department in our world. Pull yourself together.

“But because I was a woman, I was denied a doctorate by the Magisterium.” This is the show flagrantly ignoring the source material to make a clumsy political point. In the books, there are women with doctorates (notably Hannah Relf, also a major player in the new Book of Dust trilogy) and at least one women’s college full of female scholars. Now, would that women’s college likely be underfunded and disrespected compared to the men’s colleges? Almost certainly. But saying that is different than saying “I couldn’t get my doctorate!” when women in Lyra’s world can. The show knew what point they wanted to make, and were willing to ignore canon to do so, which is frustrating. Also, given that there are female academics and scientists in Lyra’s world, and that Mrs Coulter is a member of St Sophia’s college, it’s clear that she could have lived that life if she so desired. But she didn’t want that, because being a scientist and academic at St Sophia’s imbues her with no real power, and that’s what she craves.

I’m not opposed, in theory, to exploring Mrs Coulter and misogyny in more depth, but I think doing so through an examination of the sexual politics of her life would have made a lot more narrative sense and been much more powerful. It’s better evidenced in the text – her using her sexuality to manipulate people and taking lovers for political sway is entirely canon, as is her backstory where genuine love and lust blew up her life – and it links much more closely with the most shocking of her villainy, which involves cutting out children’s dæmons to stop them developing “troublesome thoughts and feelings,” referencing sexual and romantic desire (and what Lyra and Will do to save Dust is clearly a big ‘fuck you’ to those aims). She even says this to MacPhail in TAS, “If you thought for one moment that I would release my daughter into the care - the care! - of a body of men with a feverish obsession with sexuality, men with dirty fingernails, reeking of ancient sweat, men whose furtive imaginations would crawl over her body like cockroaches - if you thought I would expose my child to that, my Lord President, you are more stupid than you take me for.” Don’t get me wrong, she’d have been a villain regardless, but I do believe that there’s a much stronger link between her sexual and romantic experiences and her murder work than between professional and academic stifling and child murder. It would have been a lot more interesting and a lot less tenuous.

However, the show is trying to be family-friendly, and digging into why this terrible, cruel woman might want to cut the ability for desire and love (and other non-sexual adult feelings, I’m sure) out of people could get dark. We know that the show doesn’t want to go there, because they’ve actively toned down her weaponising her sexuality: in the books, she has an established sexual relationship with Boreal, whereas the show made it seem like she’s been stringing him along all this time, and made it about potentially ‘sharing a life’ together rather than fucking, which was clearly the arrangement in the books. Also, I think Ruth Wilson said she and Ariyon Bakare filmed a “steamy scene” together, and given that only a single chaste kiss between them aired it must have been cut. I think they deliberately minimised the sexual elements of the text, particularly regarding Mrs Coulter (the mountain scene with Asriel, which I did still love, was also a lot less horny than in the book) and replaced that with another gender issue, that of professional sexism, as if the two are interchangeable, which they are not. This is a shame, both for Mrs Coulter’s character and also for the story as a whole, because the characters’ relationships with sex and desire are an important part of the books! (If this minimised sexuality approach means that they don’t use the TAS scene where Asriel threatens to gag her and she tries to goad him into doing it, I’ll scream). Overall, I think they missed the mark here, which is a shame because I also think it could have been done well, if they’d been bolder and darker and more thoughtful.

Why might this happen? Why might the show take this approach? Why might it be latched onto by viewers? Personally, I think the conversations we have about women and power are very simplistic, which leaves us in a tight spot when we see women seizing power for themselves (even in fiction) and weaponising that against others, not just other women but people of all genders, because we struggle to move past ‘women have overall been denied power, so them taking it ‘back’ is good,’ even if that immediately becomes a hot mess of white, corporate feminism and results in the ongoing oppression of many people. I think we are so hungry for representations of powerful women that we – producers and viewers alike – struggle to see them as bad, because it’s uncomfortable to be so intoxicated by Mrs Coulter effortlessly dominating the men around her, subverting systems designed to marginalise her for her own benefit, and generally being aggressive and intelligent and ruthless, and then realise that you are entranced by someone who is, objectively, a terrible, terrible person. It can be hard to realise that if you channelled the energy of someone who mesmerises you, you’d be the villain. So instead of sitting with that (more on this below), a lot of legwork goes into reworking her villainy into, somehow, a just act, a result of oppression, as her taking back power that has been denied to her, rather than grappling with the fact that for anyone to desire power in such a merciless way, even if they have to overcome marginalisation to get it, is really, really dangerous.

The joy, of course, is that Mrs Coulter is not real! She’s not real! Adoring fictional characters does not mean condoning their (imaginary) decisions, nor do stories exist for each person in them to fit neatly into a good or bad box so you know who you’re allowed to love. Furthermore, fiction can be a fabulous tool for exploring and interrogating the parts of yourself that, if left to bloom unexamined, might perpetuate beliefs or behaviour that cause harm to others. Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be a feminist or taking down the patriarchy or a righteous powerful woman to illuminate things about gender, power and feminism for those reading and watching. In fact, it’s important that we explore what happens when women (most commonly white, wealthy women, as she is) continue to perpetuate brutal systems under the guise of sticking it to ‘men,’ because it happens all the time in the real world, and it’s a serious issue. Finding characters like Mrs Coulter so cool and compelling doesn’t make you a bad person, but it might tell you something about yourself – not that you want to be a villain or kill kids or whatever, but something about how you relate to your gender or women or men or power – and that knowledge can be useful! We all have better and worse impulses, and finding art that helps us make sense of ourselves, both the good and bad parts, is a gift that we should relish.

Anyway, tl;dr, Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be sympathetic or understandable or redeemable to be brilliant – but you wouldn’t know that from how she’s been portrayed in the new adaptation.

#his dark materials #marisa coulter #my analysis #this might be controversial idk #more thoughts that no one asked for #hdm meta

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

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after star court Steves head trauma was severe enough where he got diagnosed with epilepsy and has minor seizures n gets confused easily, his parents dont care or bother to come home and help him so its mostly robin

I want to send all my love and thanks to @elysiumwaits and @a-bit-of-trash for all their help with this piece! 💕💕💕

Read on Ao3

The first time Robin noticed it, Steve was helping a customer at Family Video.

He was in the middle of a sentence, i the middle of a transaction behind the register when his eyes drifted up towards the ceiling and his voice trailed off. His jaw shifted around and he chewed on his tongue.

It was like he was completely vacant.

It lasted a few seconds, and he snapped back in, finishing his sentence and continuing the transaction like nothing happened.

The customer stared questioningly at Robin, and she smiled tightly at her, waving as she threw Steve one last confused look and turned to leave.

“Uh, Steve?” Steve looked over his shoulder to her, humming in question. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You, like, kinda went blank there. Like stopped talking for awhile and just. I don’t know, it was weird.” He furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Yeah. You just kinda. I don’t even know how to describe it.” She was beginning to get nervous, if Steve just blacked out or something, and had no idea he did it, that can’t be good. “Has that happened before?”

“I have no idea. I mean, I didn’t even know it happened just now.” His voice was doing that thing it does before he gets in over his head. His pitch gets higher and his voice waivers a bit and his eyes go wide, and usually, this display ends with a panic attack.

“Hey, heyheyheyhey, hey. I’m sure it’s okay.” She tried to smile at him. She really isn’t sure it’s okay. But she can’t let him think his blank-out scared her.

The next time she saw it, she was sitting across from him on his couch, both their backs against either armrest, her feet in Steve’s lap.

Steve was in the middle of a story about Dustin, something silly he did earlier that day.

When his eyes fluttered. He stopped speaking mid-sentence again, his eyes fluttering oddly, his jaw working once again.

It was only a few seconds when he snapped back, picking up his story right where he left off.

“Steve, it happened again.”

Steve’s face fell.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You stopped talking and kinda went blank. Just the same as last time.” She kept her voice even, didn’t want to scare him. But he began chewing on his bottom lip, his brows furrowing.

“I didn’t even know. I don’t know they’re happening. Do you think they happen often? And I just have no fucking idea?”

“I really don’t know, Steve.” And maybe her misstep was the lack of a condescending but endearing nickname.

Because Steve looked about a second from bursting into tears.

“Should I, like, go to the doctor? I mean, I’ve had a lot of concussions these past few years. It could be, like, my brain slowly turning to Jell-o.”

“Or maybe it’s nothing!” She said quickly. “If you decide to go to the doctor, I’ll come with you.”

It happened three times in the waiting room of the doctor’s office.

Each time like the last, a few seconds of Steve blanking out and his mind going elsewhere.

It was beginning to really fucking scare Robin. He already wasn’t the brightest, and now he has these lapses, these momentary blank outs that were beginning to take more of a toll.

He was having several a day that she knew of, and by the evening, Steve was sapped of all his energy, and so fucking confused, he would lose his train of thought before it even left the station.

“Alright, Mr. Harrington. What brings you in today?” Doctor Owens let himself into the room, taking a seat at the stool next to the examination. table Steve was perched on.

“Uh, my doctor referred me. I’m having some, like, issues, I guess.” He looked expectantly at Robin. She sighed through her nose.

“He has lapses. He could be in the middle of a sentence, and he’ll stop speaking. Usually his eyes will drift and after a few seconds, he’s back.”

Doctor Owens was nodding at her seriously.

“Alright Steven. Do you black out for these episodes? Lose time?”

“I don’t even notice they’ve happened.”

“And anything else with them? Headaches? Confusion?”

“He gets confused if he’s had several in a day. I was with him one evening when he had five and by the time we fell asleep he wasn’t speaking clearly and couldn’t remember some things.”

Owens too a deep breath.

“I’d like to run some testing. It sounds like you’re experiencing minor seizures.”

Steve gawked at him.

“Seizures? But I mean, I haven’t been, like, it’s just a little, a little, brain glitch.”

“There are many different forms of seizures. And some can result in, confusion, black outs, and momentary lapses. They’re called absence seizures. And it sounds like, the number you’ve been having is indicative of epilepsy, but I’d like to run some more tests before saying one way or another.” He drummed briefly on the examination table, smiling and nodding at Robin before letting himself back out of the room.

Steve was staring at the wall in front of him.

“Seizures. Epilepsy.”

“Hey,” Robin leaned forward in her chair, placing one hand on his forearm. “At least it’s an answer. Diagnoses bring treatment.”

He gave her those big round puppy dog eyes that always made her heart break a little bit.

“Robin, I’m scared.”

It was barely a whisper, and Steve’s hands closed into shaking fists, clenching the fabric of his flimsy gown.

“I know. I know it’s scary. But I’m here, right? And we’ve dealt with a lot scarier than your brain electricity.”

He nodded at her shakily.

Doctor Owens returned then.

“Alright, Steven. We’re going to schedule you in for tomorrow for an EEG, a simple test to measure brain activity. It’ll give us a great view of what is happening in that head ‘a yours. Frankly, it’d be great if you had an event while doing the test. But, we’ll just see what’s going on in there, and figure out how to help you. That sound alright?”

“Uh, yes, Doctor. Thank you.”

The phone was ringing loudly by the time Steve pushed open the front door.

He had been quiet as Robin drove him home, and he had another small seizure in the car.

He picked up the phone, and she placed one hand gently on the small of his back as she passed by him into the kitchen.

“Hey, Dad.”

Robin sighed. This was the last thing they needed today. A call from Steve’s asshole father.

“Yeah, I had to use the credit card at the doctor. I’m having some testing done. No, not, Dad just listen. I might have epilepsy.” Steve’s voice cracked when he said epilepsy. He went quiet. Robin chewed on her bottom lip. “Just put Mom on, please.”

Robin was standing just on the other side of the doorway, listening intently. Steve always just assumed she was eavesdropping on his conversations.

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, the doctor said it could be epilepsy. I mean, I have like, a bunch of seizures. Been having them for months now. And I’m just- I mean, can you,” he went silent, no doubt listening to his mother speak.

It was a few minutes of silence before he spoke again.

And dear God, she really thought she was gonna fucking cry.

“Mom, can you please just come home? I have a big test tomorrow and I’m. I’m just scared. And I want my mom.”

And then more silence. And Steve sniffed.

“Yeah, no, uh, it’s okay. No really, Mom. I’m okay. I’ll be-enjoy the rest of your trip.” There was a click as he set the phone down on the receiver.

She waited for him to show around the wall, let him take a moment to himself.

He slunk around the divider, not meeting Robin’s gaze.

“I assume-”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she cut him off quickly.

“Thanks.”

And they didn’t.

They didn’t talk about the looming appointment the next day, the hours of testing Steve was going to have to sit through.

They didn’t talk about the way his mom didn’t bother to even pretend she would come to support him through his nerves.

They talked about shit that didn’t matter- awful costumers at Family Video, Keith repeatedly asking robin out and never getting the hint she wasn’t into him, they even unpacked the entirety of the Star Wars trilogy, as Steve fell asleep nearly every time they tried to watch it.

Steve hugged her tight before she drove herself home in her mom’s old station wagon. He did that thing he does where he buries his face into her shoulder and takes a real big breath and kinda seems like Robin’s the only thing keeping him together, kissing the top of her head once before she pulled away.

He woke up groggy, a spot of drool on his pillow. The phone was blaring on his nightstand, and he barely rolled over to slam it against his ear.

“‘ello?”

“Steve, oh my God. I’m so so sorry,” Robin babbled into the receiver, barely breathing as she hurled her words at him. “I got called in to cover for Amanda today, and Keith said he’s called everyone, and if I can’t work today, he’s gonna call you, and you can’t miss the test, but I feel like such shit, I promised I’d come with you, and with your mom not coming in, I said I’d drive you, and now I can’t, and Steve, I’m so sorry-” she sounded frantic, almost like she was close to tears.

“Rob, hey, it’s alright.” It wasn’t. Not really, but he understands. And he’s a grown up, after all. He can go to the doctor by himself. “It’s okay. Just come over tonight if you want to.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be over right after I get off. Maybe Amanda can come relieve me or something. I’m so sorry.”

She sounded sorry. She sounded absolutely miserable.

“Rob, honest, no hard feelings. I can just go. I’ll be okay. See you after.”

“I’ll bring dinner! Or, or snacks, and I can bring a few movies with me afterwards-”

“That sounds great. Look, I gotta go take a shower and get ready. I’ll just, I’ll see you later. After the-the thing.”

“Yes! Yeah, Steve, really I’m so so sorry.”

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll see you later, Rob. Love you.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, melting further back into his pillows.

“I’ll be there! And I love you a whole lot, okay?”

“Yeah. I know. It’s really okay. I promise.”

He didn’t let her get another word in, slapping the phone back onto the hook.

Really, he had no hard feelings. It’s not worth it to be mad at her for this. He just doesn’t want to sit on the phone with her while she apologizes some more

It just fucking sucks.

He’s fairly certain he had a seizure in the shower. He doesn’t totally know when he has them, but he’s beginning to recognize the time passing, the way he just feels tired after.

He took his sweet time getting ready, dreading the impeding appointment and all the testing, making sure to wear comfortable clothes, hoping they wouldn’t make him swap out his soft crew neck sweatshirt for a flimsy hospital gown while he sat through everything that was about to happen.

And only when he got outside did it really hit him that Robin won’t be going with him.

Owens said to avoid driving until they could find out more about his episodes. Find an epicenter and maybe a trigger. It’s dangerous as all hell to have him blanking out on the road. Which is something Robin suggested in that overly calm voice of hers when the seizures started getting more frequent.

Robin’s been driving him everywhere the past few weeks. And she was going to pick him up for the appointment.

Fuck.

He has no one to call.

Well, he could call someone, but that would take all the energy of explaining all the shit he hasn’t told anyone yet about his issues, and that’s a can of worms he doesn’t feel ready for on a Thursday morning.

Claudia would only ask more questions than he had answers, and he doesn’t think he could stand seeing that sad look Nancy’s always got on her face when she sees him nowadays.

And he doesn’t think things won’t be awkward between him and Jonathan.

Okay.

Looks like he’s gonna drive himself.

He actually buckled himself in, something he almost never did, and took everything as slowly as possible, creeping down his neighborhood at an almost comical pace.

If he has a seizure, and blanks out for a few seconds, he wants to be able to mitigate any damage. Either stop himself from going too far in the first place, or give others enough time to move out of the way from his slow moving death machine.

His grip was so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles were white, hands clammy and no doubt shaking.

“Just breathe, Stevie. You’re doing just fine. Plenty of time to get there.” He hadn’t turned on the radio, wanted to keep a laser focus on the road. “You’re not going to blank out, and you’re not going to hurt anyone.”

He kept up that monologue as he made the slowest left-turn possible onto the road that led into town.

He had the overwhelming urge to bounce his leg, trying to keep himself still and focused.

And the next thing he knows, he’s idling at a stop sign with the Chief of Police knocking on his window.

Fuck.

At least he didn’t hurt anyone, or crash his car horribly.

He cranked down the window, giving Hop as much of a smile as he could muster.

“Kid, what the fuck? I’ve been tapping on that window for a full minute. You were just, sittin’ there.”

Shit. He’s gonna have to come clean.

“I, uh, I’m actually going to an appointment. With Owens.” Hopper just continued staring at him, his face gruff, his brows drawn. “I got some. Brain stuff.”

And then Hopper’s face fell.

“Shit, why didn’t you let any of us know?”

“Because, well, they don’t know what it is yet, but I, uh, I’ve been having, like, seizures,” Steve could feel it, the lump rising in his throat he’s been ignoring since yesterday, the nerves and sadness and confusion all welling up. “And Owens is gonna run some tests because he thinks I have epilepsy now, from being tortured, and I don’t know what’s happening to me, but it’s like I can’t even control my own stupid brain, and I’m so fucking scared, and-”

This is fucking mortifying.

Sitting in his car, crying, in front of Hopper.

Who looked like he had no idea what the fuck to do.

“Okay, uh, just take some deep breaths, okay? Why don’t you, uh, go get in my truck, and I’ll take you to the appointment. I can leave your car parked over there,” he pointed at the side of the road beyond the stop sign. “You don’t seem in much shape to be drivin’.”

“Sorry, I’m not-not supposed to, but I had no one to call-”

“Hey, I hope you now that’s not true.” Hopper reached through the window to place a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’ll take you, and I’ll drive you on home after.” And he opened up the door, and Steve nearly got tangled in the seat belt as he tried to step out of the car. “Shit, you weren’t kidding.”

And Steve felt like a fucking child as Hop reached over him to unbuckle him, and actually help him out of the car.

He finally noticed the truck parked behind his car, and got himself tucked into the passenger seat as Hopper moved the beamer to the spot he indicated, double checking he locked it before jogging back to the truck.

The ride was silent all the way to the hospital, Steve tying his fingers up in knots and trying not to throw up.

Hopper didn’t just drop him off, he actually walked with Steve into the building, escorted him all the way to the exam room.

He sat in the chair Robin usually occupied, settling his hat on his knee.

Wait, he’s fucking on duty.

“You don’t have to stay. I could, like, call the station when I’m finished here.”

“I’ve got nowhere to be. Not a lotta shit goes down in this town on the off-season.” He smiled grimly at Steve, who just nodded blankly.

And Owens took that time to break the awkward quiet between them, opening the door with Steve’s file tucked under his arm.

“Steven! Good to see you again. Let’s get into that head of yours, shall we?” He shook hands with Hop, turning back to Steve with a grin that was probably meant to be jovial and endearing. “Sorry to see that girlfriend of yours won’t be joining us today. Trouble in paradise?”

“We’re just friends. And she’s working.” His voice felt heavy, like it took effort just to make himself speak.

“Doc, for my own sake, Harrington here hasn’t quite gotten me up to speed with the testing today.”

There was a short rap on the door, and a few nurses entered the room, bringing a rolling metal tray with a few tubes and a long syringe, and a large machine, wires spilling out the side.

Steve barely reacted as they took his blood, pressing his shoulders gently to coax him into a supine position, relaxing against the exam table.

“We’re going to begin with an E.E.G., or, an electroencephalography.”

Something sparked in Hopper’s eyes.

“That’s what Will had, right? To monitor brain activity, or what have you.”

“Exactly. We use them to understand and diagnose seizure disorders. Steven’ll be here for about an hour or so.” He washed his hands quickly at the sink in the corner, turning back to Steve and looking at him pensively. It made Steve feel oddly self-conscious. “It’s completely painless.” He smiled weakly at Steve, maybe misjudging his general discomfort at being looked at for prolonged periods of time as fear.

Which sure, he’s got some real fear surrounding this test, but not the test itself. He’s more dreading the follow-up appointment he’s gonna have to have for his results to be read and explained. If he’s got epilepsy, or not. If this is what the rest of his life is gonna look like, or not. If he can drive or go to college. If it’ll all just get worse.

One of the nurses, the one with a nice round face that had taken his blood a few moments ago, was marking out spots on his head, along his hairline.

And before he knew it, small sticky pads were being stuck to him, one on each spot she had marked out, and more dotting back through his hair, the nurse smoothing it down and parting it awkwardly in many places to get the little pads as close to his scalp as possible.

“Alright. You ready, Steven?” Owens didn’t wait for a response before he began fiddling with the large machine, bringing it to life.

It was kind of like what Steve saw in a video once about seismographs. A little arm scratching out tremors in the Earth on a sliding sheet of paper.

Only this one was detecting tremors in his brain. Tremors and errors and everything that was going wrong in there.

“So, Chief. What brings you in here with Steven today?”

Steve wanted to tell Owens just to call him Steve, but he kinda feels like it’s past the point of when he should’ve corrected him, and now, it’d be kinda weird.

“Drivin’ the kid in. Can’t have him crashing his car. I think the last thing his head needs is another bonk.”

It made Steve smile, nearly made him laugh as the machine scratched away beside him.

“Good to see you’ve taken my advice.”

“Robin drives me almost everywhere. We work the same shifts and she picks me up after school. It works pretty okay.” The whirring of the machine kinda made Steve want to fall asleep.

“Your parents don’t drive you?” Hopper looked a little too interested. Steve tried to play it cool.

“My dad works quite a lot.” Hopper tightened his jaw and Steve kinda felt like a little kid again. “He, uh, travels for work a lot. And my mom likes to go.”

It was like the air in the room totally went cold.

“Kid, do they even know you’re here today?”

“Yes! I called them last night. Pretty much begged my mom to fly in but she-”

And it was the first Owens had seen one of Steve’s seizures for himself.

He cut off mid sentence, his eyes, that had just been wide and clear a second before, went blank, and dim, nearly rolling back in his head. The E.E.G. noted the seizure, tracking brainwaves that were even more abnormal than had been presented already. His jaw worked as though he was trying to speak, and as quickly as it happened, Steve seemed to snap back into himself.

So, maybe emotional duress? Stress? That should definitely be examined as a possible trigger.

Owens scribbled that down on Steve’s chart as Steve shook himself, smiling benignly at Hopper.

“Sorry. Uh, lost my train of thought, there.”

And maybe Hop was able to see that talking about Steve’s family could bring on another, or maybe he just got scared of watching Steve have a seizure and decided to walk on eggshells, but he just smiled back. Brought up a story about Eleven from earlier in the week. How the two of them had played a game of Monopoly that lasted nearly six hours and had both of them close to tears by the end of it.

The test was okay by Steve’s standards. Pretty easy on his end. All he had to do was lay back and let the machine do work. He’s pretty sure he had an episode or two, based on the way Hopper would go all pale and look at Steve like he was sorry for him.

Hopper had to step out near the middle of the test to make a phone call, Steve figured to the station to let them know he was otherwise occupied, or something like that. Or at least, that’s what Steve hoped, and not that Hopper was putting calls in to his father’s work and getting in touch with him via his secretary, or something awful like that.

He’d rather not have the Chief of Police call his parents from the hospital to scold them for not accompanying Steve to his Big Scary Medical Test.

He felt about ready to fall asleep when the machine was finally turned off and nurse returned, removing all the sticky pads as gently as possible from his head.

Owens looked over the paper carefully, folding along the perforations and clipping it against Steve’s chart.

“So, Steven, can we see you a few days from now to go over these results?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Go ahead and schedule that with the front desk,” he finished in the doorway, giving Hop a curt wave and swishing off to something else.

“You ready to be home, kid?”

“Fuckin’ absolutely.”

That made Hop huff something close to a laugh, and he kinda fluttered about while Steve stood up from the examination table, like he wanted to help Steve up, help him manoeuvre around.

Steve went through all the typical stuff at the front desk, handing over his father’s credit card along with their insurance information, scheduling another appointment three days from then.

He was tired, and just felt so fucking awkward that Hopper had been here to witness Steve’s prolonged physical breakdown.

Hopper led him out of the hospital and back to the truck, driving him home with the radio playing quietly. Steve stared out the window, watching raindrops sprinkle onto the car and rush down the window.

They passed Steve’s car a few blocks away from his house, and by the time they pulled up, Steve was almost too tired to notice another car parked in front of his house.

But he couldn’t ignore Joyce’s tight hug when he made it to his porch, and suddenly Hopper’s phone call made sense.

Will was standing behind her like a shadow, holding a baking dish and three clear glass bowls, all stacked up and covered in tin foil.

They brought him dinner.

It kinda made Steve wanna cry.

He fumbled with his keys letting them all inside, tugging awkwardly at the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he led Joyce to the kitchen.

Hop grunted something about walking to get Steve’s car, easing the keys out of his hands and taking off down the road.

“Steve, Honey, why don’t you just take a seat. We’ve got this.” She smiled and pushed him softly towards the kitchen table.

And he really wanted to help her heat everything up. For fuck sake’s she brought him dinner, he wants to do something, but he’s so goddamn tired.

He sat down slowly, tucking his left leg up under him as he watched Joyce and Will in his kitchen.

They set the dishes to heat up slowly in the oven, going through cabinets to find dishes and flatware to set the table.

Steve’s family almost never ate in the kitchen.

When his parents were home, they almost always sat together in the formal dining room, eating in stilted silence before heading their separate ways.

It was kinda nice, hearing the two of them talk softly to one another, letting Steve just kinda zone out a little bit, tracing the wood grain of the table with the pads of his fingers.

Until his front door creaked open in a way that only Robin could make happen, and he was being hugged tightly from behind.

“Steve, I came as soon as I could. I’m so so sorry I couldn’t come. How was the test? Did they tell you anything yet? Keith was being such an ass today, I almost punched him right in the-” She cut herself off when she noticed the Byers standing near the oven, still clinging onto Steve from behind. “Uh, hi. Sorry,” she stammered. She didn’t do well being taken off guard. Steve sometimes thought it was kinda funny.

“Hi, Sweetheart. Let me just set you a place for dinner. Hop’s moving Steve’s car, he’ll be back in a second and this should be hot enough to eat.”

Robin finally relinquished Steve, keeping one hand on his shoulder that Steve covered with his own.

“Oh, uh, that’s okay. I just wanted to check on Steve, I don’t wanna intrude-”

Joyce waved her hand, shaking her head.

“We invited ourselves into his home. As long as Steve says it’s okay, you’re more than welcome. There’s plenty.”

“Steve looked up at Robin, pretending to think it over.

“I don’t know,” he sighed dramatically. “I don’t really like you, so I don’t want you to stay.” He scrunched up his face when she hit his shoulder. “Take a seat, Buck.”

They could hear heavy footsteps in the hall, the door being closed quietly behind Hopper, and the jingle of Steve’s keys being deposited in the glass bowl on the small sidetable next to the door.

Robin stood to help Joyce and Will bring all the dishes over to the table, and fuck, Steve’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten all day since most of it was spent feeling like he could throw up his spleen.

But Joyce had brought a rich lasagna, and the creamiest mashed potatoes Steve has ever tasted, and these fucking string beans that were so good and crisp, Steve must’ve demolished half the container of them.

Conversation was kept light and nice, and Steve figured Hopper had filled Joyce in on the nitty-gritty of the test and everything to do with what Steve has been not so subtly hiding from everyone but Robin.

It was still nice to let the sleeping dog lie, even if Steve did find himself no doubt post-seizure with his hand sloppily in his mashed potatoes and everyone staring at him.

And after finishing two of the brownies Joyce had brought, Steve was struck with such a huge wall of tired, it was like he could barely even keep his eyes open.

“Well, we should take our leave.” Joyce leaned back in her chair, Will looking just as sleepy as Steve felt.

“Seriously, Mrs. B. Thank you so much for this. So much.” Steve didn’t even have the words in him to explain his gratitude, but sometimes he thinks Joyce has the ability to read his mind, so it works out.

She just squeezed him in another tight hug, Will following with one of his own before Robin walked them to the door.

“You call if you need anything, okay? Even if it’s just some company. El’s been on this real Miami Vice kick, she’ll talk to anyone that’ll listen about that damn show.”

It made Steve nearly laugh, picturing El sitting in front of the television, watching Miami Vice with as much determination as she does everything.

“Thank you, Hop. Today probably would’ve been a lot more shit if you hadn’t’ve seen my car.”

“Anytime, Kid. And quit tryna hide that shit. We’ve all been fucked up by what happened. Doesn’t mean you’re broke or somethin’.”

And Steve really fucking doesn’t wanna cry anymore today.

He blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay, Hopper doing him a solid and studying his own watch.

“Alright, my little twerp’s been at the Wheeler’s all day. I gotta pick her up. Take it easy, alright?”

“Yes, Sir.” Steve gave him a lazily sarcastic salute.

Hopper rolled his eyes, putting his hat back on.

Steve slunk to the couch as Robin locked up behind the chief, flopping down near his feet.

“I brought Raiders of the Lost Ark as an apology gift.”

“I’m gonna make you watch it a million times.”

Robin slapped his leg, a gesture that was immediately undercut by her draping a soft blanket delicately over him.

“Marion Ravenwood is hot enough I stay invested.”

She sat back down after putting in the tape.

“So, how was it today?” Her voice was way too casual.

“It was okay. Test was fine enough, and hanging out with everyone was good.”

“Are you, like, gonna maybe reach out to them more? Because, you know, they know now.”

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek, tugging at a loose thread in the blanket.

“Probably. Not that you don’t do a lot for me, but, uh, it was kinda nice to have grown ups around.”

“You know I’d do anything for you, but I think it was kinda nice too. Especially-” She cut herself off, letting the especially since your mom couldn’t be bothered to show up hang in the air between them.

The opening trailers had begun on the rented tape, and Steve closed his eyes, snuggling deeper into the couch.

“Thanks, Rob. Love you.”

“Yeah, Dingus. Love you too.”

#yikes writes #epileptic steve harrington #steve harrington #epileptic steve #robin buckley #fav platonic soulmates #jim hopper #joyce byers #also known as steve's real parents #tw epilepsy #tw seizures #tw absence seizures

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transfemstarscream · 2 years

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GOD YEAH, THE WFC TRILOGY.

It felt like it took every issue, big and small that I have with the other continuities, mashed them all together and then took steroids. An example being the way TFP had the whole Grim And Dark™™™ thing going on, but it still managed to make it work for the most part. WFC doesn't.

Things just... Happen. If you told me I'd somehow watched a compilation that removed the main plot and left in only the side story and random scenes, I'd believe you. I do think it got better as time went on, but there are still so many issues, even if we don't count the story telling itself.

The voice acting is... Well, voice acting. I honestly think the VAs tried their best, but the end result isn't that good. To me, it sounded like so many characters were doing impressions of someone else, rather than judt being themselves, if that makes sense.

Also the models look kinda weird, but that's probably just my opinion, as I'm not really a fan of the bulky Roblox looking designs in general.

god the models gjgjh especially the weird sexual dimorphism in elita-one’s case. the two genders in transformers: female and rectangle. and the lips… remember when people were trying to convince us that megatron’s atrocious looking lips were actually sexy and on par with animated optimus’s lips? dark days. dark days.

the war for cybertron trilogy wanted to, essentially, be a safe installation of the average geewunner’s dream: the large G1 cast (even if nothing is actually done with any of them), the DARK and GRIM war setting they swear G1 was set in (even if the comics, which i admit are a lot more gruesome and aggressive than the cartoon, was still not on the same lane as whenever MTMTE/LL did shock value gore), optimus is in the spotlight instead of rodimus (even though there’s enough room for two trans kings!) and just in general a rehash of G1. it doesn’t really have an identity beyond attempting to be a darker G1 and failing despite it being easy to make a story where optimus dies and the autobots having to handle the aftermath. (it’s almost like something like that came out in 1986… and did it better… i wonder what that was called…)

i already think it’s shitty how shamelessly netflix only got non-union voice actors to do the voices, but the fact they were given awful direction (or maybe even NO direction. i wouldn’t be surprised) just sours it even more. like you… don’t need to… talk like this. even prime/beast wars that had serious settings didn’t talk that slow. and if beast wars isn’t a good example because it was in general really hammy (almost like you can tell good, serious transformer stories while also keeping it funny and appealing to all audiences), prime was dead serious and even then the characters didn’t talk so slow beyond some weird exceptions.

and overall yeah. i hope the 2023 nickelodeon show gives me some hope but i’ve heard rumors it’s centering around humans more than transformers so. we keep losing in the show department unfortunately.

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 3 years

Text

tuesday again 8/10/21

got a bunch of followers (many of you are Cool Teens, so also a reminder im 26 and an adult and you’re responsible for curating your own internet experience) anyway there’s a bunch of new folks since the last time this was a regular series, so i am going to pre-answer some things that popped up in my inbox last week.

a quick reminder that this is empathetically NOT a recommendations or review blog series. this is a quick snapshot of what i’m thinking about with regards to mass media this week, and sometimes i’m funny about it and sometimes i also do interesting diy shit

a work can be culturally or historically relevant and important in the history of a genre AND be extremely difficult to recommend unless i know you very well due to. hm. let us say many pitfalls due to the inherent nature of the genre or the time it was made in it any number of other factors that make it unpalatable to modern audiences but still worth knowing about. doesthedogdie dot com will be your friend here for anything i talk about ever

being critical of a work doesn’t just mean pointing out its flaws- was it successful in telling the story it wanted to tell? were the techniques it used effective? were the emotions it elicited in me probably the ones the creators set out to elicit? these are key components of a good review and often help me break down what i want to say about a particular piece of media in any given week, but this isn’t a review series of blog posts either.

i am literally just some guy and you should question everything i say

listening i’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair (from the musical South Pacific) brought to you by a random mix of classic movie musicals bc apparently im that kinda gay this week.

like a lot of other fifties media that aged like milk, i have fond memories of watching this with my grandmother. this isn’t even my favorite song from the musical (that would be bali hai’i) but i think it is one of the more technically interesting non-solo ones. specifically, the faint siren-y dissonance on “ahoy, ahoy!” has really been stuck in my head. the melancholy “ah fuck we’ve broken our hearts again” vibe on “rub him out of the roll call/and drum him out of your dreams” with all the girls singing is probably a result of a soprano-heavy cast, but it’s almost chimey in a way? the rhyme scheme of those lines has an excellent mouthfeel. ms gaynor singing “cancel hiiiiiim” has a very different vibe in 2021

two (really three? maybe four? the world is large and mysterious) things can be true at the same time: i don’t think i could watch this musical again as an adult because i don’t think there’s a good way to salvage or update it. the very qualities of this musical that make me go “fuckin yikes” as adult were the very qualities that made my grandmother love it so much. i can hold a bittersweet memory of a rare late movie night with a complicated lady and at the same time wish she were a better person. the dead never leave you with answers.

reading yet another fallow week. this field is turning back into forest

watching i often say “AAA video game (derogatory)” when talking offline about the bad batc/h, but this was a real bioshock ass lookin episode. i don’t think this show is succesful at making or having a point. mostly because it cannot contradict any existing lore in one of the most traversed time periods of this franchise, even with the expanded universe reboot. it falls into the uncomfortable realm of most starred wars media: this is a franchise for children but it also has to cater to legions of grownup fanatics with lots of money. but by god does it “feel” like starred wars. something not all the sequel trilogy movies or much of the clone wars series were successful at.

as a sidebar to that last sentence. the most memorable (imo) scene of the fucking sequel trilogy is the back-to-back battle couple thing in ep seven, which i have just rewatched, and it simply does not hold up. there are too many cuts to other sideplots, which kills any tension dead, and it’s mostly fighting on opposite sides of the room in frantic desperation instead of what i wanted, which was more than five seconds of synergy. it’s a bad rhyme of the final throne room fight in rotj and my memory of the thing is so much better, which is always disappointing.

back to the main point, i think a big part of something “feeling” like starred wars is big setpieces and fights that make you go “HAHA YES FUCKIN SICK WHY NOT!!!!” like, nobody ever Just gets shot in the head and temporarily incapacitated, they get half-vadered by the engines of a derelict ship trying to go to hyperspace while it’s grounded. this franchise has never met a location it couldn’t destroy in a beautiful and awful shower of light while the string sections of three combined orchestras play their hearts out.

this franchise is so fucking stupid and i am so invested in it

playing got my hands on the death trash early access, very hype to play it, have been too busy turning this apartment into a functional and comfortable space to live in for three separate people with their own separate toiletries and groceries and work from home/school schedules

making related to the above, the fucking kitchen table and chairs are done.

things wot i did friday night/saturday morning:

new rubber feeties on everybody

wrapped the legs that structurally couldn’t get new rubber feeties in jute to be kinder to my rental linoleum

bolted the legs back on the table and rebalanced it bc the jute wasn’t quite even

did a very halfassed job of fixing the drawer rails on the table

bolted the chair tubing back together

took all the old decorative tacks out of the backs of the chairs

scrubbed the seats and backs and the pieces the tacks were holding down with mild detergent (partially effective, it still has some patina but is sanitized)

re-covered the bottoms of the chairs in remnant black polyester to replace mildewed black canvas

put in new decorative tacks on the seat backs

bolted the vinyl parts to the chrome tubing parts (a long and frustrating process since there were two sizes of decidedly non-standard nuts and bolts)

wiped everything down again for idk good luck

sitting at my kitchen table in the sun eating a breakfast sandwich and some terrible iced tea on sunday morning was very nice. i lived in the south just long enough to get Opinions on iced tea and how the north can’t get it right. shouldn’t be gritty. shouldn’t be bitter. how is this even happening

some very very halfassed “during” pics

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #Spotify

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

ohh i saw your answer about the sequels of star wars. id love to read you tear through the whole trilogy

Well, I’ve avoided this ask long enough. Part of the reason is this is really a huge topic, far too much for one ask, so I’m going to have to do this at a very high level.

In short, the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy is what one gets when you slap together the goal of selling merchandise and making tons of money, being as risk averse as humanly possible, adding a handful of warring directors with incredibly different visions, and having virtually no imagination when it comes to the imagining and writing of characters.

And we get this beautiful, awful, franchise that for reasons beyond me people seem to actually like (though interestingly, no one seems to like all of it, they may actually like one or two of the films, but no one says all three are actually in any realm of good).

With that, let’s begin.

The Force Awakens

For me this is easily the most tolerable of the sequel trilogy: it’s not great, it’s not terrible. It’s thoroughly watchable, you can be taken along for the movie’s journey and not raise your eyebrows too much at the action and leave the theater feeling this maybe wasn’t a complete waste of your time.

There’s a good reason for that. That reason is called the most blatant form of plagiarism I have ever seen in cinema in my life.

“The Force Awakens” is just “A New Hope” wearing a mustache. Only, it’s one of those cheap mustaches you get from a party store that, if you stare at it too long, just looks like the most false and awful thing you’ve ever seen. The mustache actively makes it worse. “The Force Awakens” is “A New Hope”, but worse.

Seriously, every major character, every major plot point, every major scene I can go directly back to “A New Hope”.

Our story begins when the Resistance, at great cost to our valiant heroes including torture at the hands of the Emperor’s second in command, sends a file out into the wilderness to be received by his people. This file contains plans for the Death Star.

The film then focuses on Luke, er Rey, getting involved in the Resistance, boarding the Death Star, and successfully destroying at the same time even at the lost of a beloved mentor that she just met (trading in Obi-Wan for Han Solo).

Our evil empire is run by an evil emperor who is so evil he sits in a chair, is served by very Moth Tarkin-esque human storm troopers, and has a second in command who revels in the Darth Vader get up (for no other reason that it makes him feel cool but we’ll get into this).

It’s “A New Hope”. Rey is Luke, Han Solo is Obi-Wan, Poe is a kind of Han Solo, Kylo Ren is Vader, Snoke is Palpatine, Hux is Tarkin, BB-8 is R2-D2, etc.

“But that’s not terrible,” you say, “I liked A New Hope?”

First, it is terrible, it gives a very bad sign of where the sequel trilogy is headed and is just lazy writing. It means that those who produced this franchise were so terrified of taking risks, of possibly ending up mocked as the prequels were, that they will deliver exactly what the original trilogy was. And what’s that? Uh, evil empires, scrappy desert kids, AND MORE DEATH STARS!

That brings us to point number two, the world of Star Wars after the events of the original trilogy shouldn’t support such things. And, if it does, my god what a bleak existence this place has turned into.

The First Order being able to rise easily from the Empire’s remains means that Luke accomplished nothing. Anakin sacrificed himself and had his moment of redemption for nothing. There was no happy ending to the Original Trilogy, our heroes failed miserably, and there is no indication that our new band of heroes can possibly succeed in their place. (More on this as the movies progress).

We now are in a galaxy where this new Republic is so pathetic that Leia doesn’t even give it the time of day and builds her own private army to battle the Empire. The First Order is able to not only rebuild a massive army by raiding villages on many different worlds and stealing children and do so successfully for at least ten years but is able to build a Death Star bigger than any we’ve ever seen before.

And the movie tries to convince us these are completely new problems, that Luke Skywalker is a hero (remember this is TFA, not TLJ yet), and that somehow these things just sprung up out of nowhere. BUT YEAH, RESISTANCE, WOO!

As for Rey, she’s like... a worse version of Luke. Her only motivation through the entire series is her trauma at being abandoned by her parents. That’s it, there’s nothing else to her, nothing else she ever wants or feels conflicted by. She struggles with the dark side because... the dark side? Genetics? Unclear? She’s absurdly, ridiculously, powerful in a way that’s acknowledged but never that acknowledged (we’ll get into this) and the movies just fail to sell me on her in any way.

Honestly, an easy fix for me would have just been making Rey a much younger character. I could believe a fourteen-year-old having stayed in the desert, scrounging for scraps, believing her parents are coming back every day now. As a twenty-something year old... It starts getting hard to believe she never left. (Also, this gets the benefit of getting rid of Reylo, which is always a plus for me).

As for Kylo Ren, I legitimately walked out of TFA thinking he was supposed to be comic relief. He’s what happens when someone desperately wants a likable, redeemable, villain and we get... Well, as a reminder his opening scene is one of genocide: he pillages and destroys a town with no regret and brutally tortures a man for information. We’re told he’s like this “because evil evil Snoke” and that may well be but throughout the film (and the series) it becomes clear that Kylo Ren’s main motivation is he deseprately wants to be cool. He wants to be a badass like Vader, he dresses in Vader cosplay (either ignoring or not knowing that Vader only dressed like that because his body was completely destroyed), he has these huge temper tantrums and nobody respects him because he’s a toddler in a Vader suit.

He murders his own father, his parents who (at least in the films themselves) show every willingness to take him back and forgive him what he’s done, so that he can fully embrace his own “evilness”. In other words, he commits patricide to feel cool about himself, then it doesn’t work.

And the movie series really banks on me feeling conflicted about Kylo Ren or at least wanting him to be redeemed. Granted, the wider internet seems to love him, I just can’t.

Oh, before I forget, the other thing I love about Kylo Ren is that the movies insist he’s a) strong in the Force b) is equal to Rey. Rey consistently beats the shit out of him with 0 training. Kylo Ren has been training in the Force for years. Guys, they are not a Dyad, Rey is far far far stronger than he is and for whatever reason the films never want to admit it. Because I guess we like things coming in pairs now.

But yes, “The Force Awakens”, at a distance not great nor terrible, but a rip off of a movie we’ve already seen that left me going “Welp, the next one’s probably The Empire Strikes Back then I guess we’re getting Ewoks”. I was sort of right on that and sort of wrong.

The Last Jedi

So, JJ Abrams clearly had a vision of where he wanted this sequel trilogy to go. He set up these big questions such as what’s up with Finn, who are Rey’s parents and why was she left on this nowhere planet, will Kylo Ren be redeemed and how, who is Snoke, etc.

Now, I’m not saying these aren’t stupid questions. To be frank, they kind of are. Finn being Force Sensitive was the most inconsequential thing I’ve ever heard of, Rey’s parents should not have been used to drive the plot the way it was, as spoken above I’m clearly team gut Kylo Ren, and that Snoke was actually just Palpatine being the world’s largest cockroach is a beautiful but hilarious answer.

That said, what Johnson did was he decided, “You know what, I’m going to take every trope of Star Wars and completely flip it on its head and absolutely doom the sequel to this movie.”

And by god, he did.

We get a weirdly pointless movie in which Poe, SINGLEHANDEDLY, completely obliterates the Resistance. He first obliterates their bombers by failing to follow command, then goes and bitches about how he’s not put in command when he clearly shows no ability to understand how a military works, actively subverts orders which in turn obliterates the entire Resistance fleet until the only survivors can fit on the Millenium Falcon. They have no ships, no weapons, barely any people, and are ultimately doomed doomed doomed.

We have Finn’s weird subplot with a suddenly introduced character Rose in which the pair aid in Poe’s blowing up the resistance (they send sensitive information using the communication equipment of a guy they do not know, who fully admits to being shady and out for his own skin, and are flabergasted when he betrays them).

Rose herself is this weirdly sweet person who seems forced into the plot to a) provide a love triangle for Finn and Rey b) provide this forced sunny outlook that I didn’t really need in the film.

We get Rey never really being trained, going into the Cave of Wonders for a few seconds, falling in love with Kylo Ren over weird Force Skype calls (where I did not need to see him shirtless, thank you film) and being horrifically betrayed when Kylo Ren turns out not to be a great guy. Never saw that coming, Rey.

As for Kylo Ren, well... God, we get Emperor Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, the Emperor. I’m not even that upset about the anticlimactic murder of Snoke (that was kind of funny, especially in the context of Palpatine going, “Bitch, please, you’re in my chair” immediately in the next film) but just Kylo Ren being emperor. And also that the Resistance only escapes at all because he’s so dumb he made their dumb plans seem smart (i.e. concentrates all his firepower on an illusion for ten minutes while Hux goes, “Emperor, sir, we could actually destroy the Resistance right now.”

Now, you’ll notice I didn’t complain about Luke. A lot of people are upset he became a grumpy, miserable, old hermit who sits around waiting for death. Frankly though, in this universe, that’s exactly where he is. He left “Return of the Jedi” thinking he’d saved the world, he’s resurrected the Jedi Order, and all is well. Only a decade later, his students are all murdered by his nephew, the Empire’s back, and he accomplished nothing. He’s an utter failure as a Jedi (though Luke never realizes he knew jack shit about the Jedi Order and was in way over his head but I guess that’s beyond him). Why shouldn’t he go sit on a rock and wait to die?

Now, did he have to drink that blue dinosaur milk? Well, I guess it was funny, gross but funny so... Sure, I guess he did. But I do like that he gave Rey 0 training, they had one meditation session and then he whined about how Obi-Wan was such a stupid asshole. And then Rey ran off to be with her boyfriend, who then told her that her parents were gutter trash (which again, was funny, but I don’t think that was supposed to be funny).

Of the characters introduced in the movie, the only one I really liked was the hacker, and it was for the actor/the beautiful way in which he gracefully exited stage left with zero shame going, “You all knew I was going to betray you!” You beautiful man, you.

Rise of the Skywalker

First, when something is called “Rise of the Skywalker” you know you’re in for a rough time.

But anyways, TLJ was filled with a controversy Disney didn’t want (half their audience hated it, half loved it, but at least they sold those penguin dolls) so they desperately get Abrams back. Only, what he clearly wanted from his series has been shot to hell, and now he’s left with Emperor Kylo Ren, a completely obliterated Resistance, a dead Luke, a love interest he never planned to introduce for Finn, Rey’s parental crisis being solved with trash people, Snoke just suddenly dead, Hux planning revenge, and then some.

And so, Abrams goes the brave and hilarious route of shouting “PRETEND THAT LAST MOVIE NEVER HAPPENED”

We open to a fully functioning Resistance (their bomber fleet is back, their fleet period is back, they have all their fully trained personnel). We have Rey getting the Jedi training she needed this time from Leia, who is now a Jedi, because yay feminism rammed down my throat to make the audience feel better. Rose says “It’s cool guys, I don’t want to join the adventure this film, I’m going to stay here and work on robots” so that she can gracefully exit the entire plot. Kylo Ren is demoted from Emperor in two seconds when we discover that a) Snoke was apparently Palpatine b) for unexplained reasons Palpatine’s alive (and I am now convinced that man will never die). Kylo Ren tells Rey at the first opportunity that he lied about her trash parents AND REALLY SHE’S A PALPATINE! THIS WHOLE TIME, REY! THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT. I’M SUPER SERIAL THIS TIME, REY.

Basically, in the course of an overly long movie, Abrams desperately shoves in everything he was trying to get out of the series, while sobbing, and sobbing even harder when things like Finn being Force Sensitive or Lando having a secret daughter get caught. I actually agree with the Producers on this, by the way, the Finn trying to tell Rey something scenes were weird and indicative of a love triangle but him being Force Sensitive instead... It says a lot that the movies did not change when it was removed, at all. And Lando was just this strange cameo who was in the film to make us feel nostalgic.

And this isn’t even getting to the ridiculous 24 hour time limit (which made me think there should have been some video game style clock in the corner letting us know when Dawn of the Third Day is coming), Palpatine’s other secret army on a secret Sith planet that can be easily taken down by taking out one navigation tower, Rey’s hilarious struggle with the dark side in which she has a vision of herself in a cape hissing, Kylo Ren’s hilarious redemption in which the movie in the form of Leia and Han Solo says, “Alright, Ben, it’s time to stop being evil” and he says “okay”, the fight with Palpatine in which I’m supposed to believe he dies for reals because... I have no idea why I’m supposed to believe he’s dead. The Reylo, god the Reylo, and Kylo Ren’s tragic, hilarious, death.

And then, of course, the ending where Rey decides she’s a Skywalker now.

I actually did laugh all the way through “Rise of the Skywalker”, you can’t not, I mean it’s a hilariously awful movie. The only thing that might have made it more hilarious was if we actually did get those Ewoks.

TL;DR

They’re all bad movies, if you want more specifics than this, you’re just going to have to ask me questions.

#ask #anon #anti star wars sequels #anti rey #anti kylo ren #anti reylo #ah what beautiful awful movies #i look foward to the characters being shocked and appalled when yet another evil empire arises in five years #i look forward to them being even more shocked when palpatine's still not dead #that man will never die

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forthisone · 3 years

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Shadow and Bone Trilogy Book Review

Long, rambling, sometimes-capslock thoughts on the Shadow and Bone trilogy, having just a couple of hours ago finished reading the trilogy of Shadow and Bone, Seige and Storm and Ruin and Rising.

MALYEN ORETSEV IS TOO PURE FOR THIS WORLD AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL.

Fair warning: Major spoilers for the whole series and ending, entire focus on Mal/Alina 😅 I apologise for nothing.

I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE FIRST TIME I’VE EXPERIENCED A SHIP I REALLY LOVE HAVE A HAPPY ENDING. Hooooooly shit. It feels good.

😭😭😭

Leigh Bardugo really served up everything I want to see! Give me all the tropes! All the angst! All the longing! AND with a happy ending?! *chef’s kiss*

I’m shook.

It feels amazing that for once in my life, something I ship has finally finished front and centre and I am absolutely here for it!

So let’s first clarify that I went in to the books just after finishing S1 of the Netflix show, already head over heels in love with Mal/Alina and rooting for them the whole way through. They are the reason I read the books. In the stories that I enjoy, I value love above all other aspects of the story; it’s just who I am.

The Pain of Siege and Storm

I admit, about 50% of this trilogy and the majority of Book 2 and early Book 3 was me in pain just wondering why they couldn’t be together and why they kept pushing each other away. Book 2 was an emotional rollercoaster ngl. I was frustrated that they spent so much time being miserable around eachother but were never allowed to be happy or give in to their feelings? They are best friends. Mal wants to support her. LET HIM SUPPORT HER. Let her confide in him and find comfort in him.

Endgame? Not Endgame?

This went on in a similar vein for some time and towards the end of Book 3, I was getting increasingly worried they weren’t endgame and this was indeed all leading up to Mal ultimately sacrificing himself... which obviously did happen...

But when Alina says “Bring him back to me.”, I just thought “THANK YOU. VINDICATION. THIS IS WHAT HAPPINESS FEELS LIKE.” and I knew we were home and dry and my god it felt good.

But I was so happy with the ending. It’s exactly what I wanted to happen, though I didn’t expect it... AND THEN IT HAPPENED. For them to go back to how they were and live the rest of their days in quiet happiness. Neither of them asked for this. They just belonged with eachother.

The last line of the book:

They had an ordinary life, full of ordinary things - if love can ever be called that.

HAPPY SIGH. YES.