#but for variety it’s nice to have someone who seemingly views her as an equal

[vonkarma2]

1 for gloria and 2 for rocio?

What’s the lie your character tells most often? 

I think a lot of Gloria’s lies in her day to day life are around the lines of “I’ll pay you back” or something like that LOL, she’s very irresponsible with money and not above straight up lying meaning her reputation is kinda terrible. She tends to ditch people and avoid responsibility in general. If you make plans with her there’s a solid 50% chance she just won’t show up and you’ll never hear from her again. The other 50% is she shows up and you still never hear from her again

2. How loosely or strictly do they use the word “friend”? 

The people in Rocio’s life are usually only interested in them professionally/politically, and the few that actually view her as a person (prior to the story theres like quite literally 2 of them) tend to be very close, so there’s not a lot of conflict over whether they’re close enough to be called their friend yk. She definitely considers them as such— even though it makes her uncomfortable to be close to people she does appreciate everything they’ve done for her. Like, they would have straight up died if not for Yiming. They put a lot of faith in the people they’re close to, maybe even too much, + though being dependent on others frustrates them they don’t tend to resent people because of that. In terms of actually using the word though. I think she’d hate implying things about her relationship with others because she doesn’t think it’s anyone’s business at all. So she’s more likely to avoid it and talk about them however is directly relevant to the situation. Like instead of “you can trust him, he’s a friend” it would be “you can trust him, he’s harmless” or whatever. Sometimes coming across as insulting because of that lol 

#rocio and cirillos backstory together is actually kind of cute #like they were distant pen pals for a while not very close #but it’s like one of the first people ever to be nice to rocio since her parents. yk #and the only one who doesn’t care abt her job or whatever #not that she doesn’t want people to think of her as powerful or whatever #or as metahuman in some way #bc those are legit aspects of them as a person that do require consideration #but for variety it’s nice to have someone who seemingly views her as an equal #rather than looking up to her or fearing her or trying to use her for political gain #the two of them are NOT peers lol but it’s nice to feel as though they are #+ cirillo is probably aware of that #and it would have occurred to him relatively early on how isolated she must be #also I made gloria sound like a terrible person in her response #she has redeeming qualities umm #she gives food to stray cats some times #my ocs #rocio satapathy #gloria song #ty for asking :)

[axebenefits]

Why Kokomi Teruhashi Deserves Better

let me start off with stating that teruhashi is not pursuing this life of perfection for herself. and you may think “but she seems to enjoy it so much” or “but no ones forcing her to be perfect”. however, there’s a lot more to her goals than just self satisfaction.

teruhashi is a beautiful woman who, seemingly from an early age, was fawned after and sexualized by everyone. even her own brother. though we’ve seen nothing of her family outside of her sibling, we can assume it’s not as perfect as she’d lead everyone to believe.

even if teruhashi’s parents didn’t add to any of the pressure or stress she’s under, they most certainly seemed to have enabled makoto. or at least been negligent in their parenting. how could anyone get to such a state of obsession? especially over a sibling, nonetheless. even saiki points out in the episode makoto is introduced (season 1, episode 9) that the teruhashi parents should not have let makoto get this far in his possessiveness. which leads me to believe that they either are very distant or they’re very careless.

then kokomi attends pk academy. here she has a variety of people her own age. and what happens? they worship her blindly. her gorgeous looks garner her constant empty praise because of this facade she displays. there’s even a fan club dedicated to her, one that has been said to have ADULTS in it. how creepy is that? and she just has to live with it.

but you have to think, would teruhashi even be able to live a life in which she’s not treated as a goddess? she’s exceptionally beautiful, very intelligent, and quite talented. there would never be a world in which she wouldn’t get the attention that people force onto her.

and, as sad as it is, i think she’d prefer attention that she’s asking for instead of something unwanted and unexpected.

this may lead you to deduce that she enjoys the praise and affection. that as long as her ego is being inflated, she’s happy. however, let’s think back to the valentine’s day episode in season 1 (episode 8). it’s rumored that teruhashi has brought chocolate for a special someone, and all the boys flock to her in order to earn her chocolates.

remember how annoyed she was, how frustrated she got when they were tripping over themselves to do whatever she asked of them. and why do they do this? do they care for her? unfortunately, no. she’s an accessory to them, a beautiful gem they can wear out and show off. these people hold no genuine love for her.

she was agitated, despising the crowd that followed her relentlessly. however, this is teruhashi we’re talking about. she gets followed by a crowd of strangers constantly. she gets swarmed by people at café’s. she is so used to such treatment, why was that time so different? it must’ve been a one time thing, right?

wrong! she never enjoys the attention she gets from people. she doesn’t put up this persona of the “perfect pretty girl” for herself. she doesn’t particularly like it, but she feels as though it is necessary. she constantly puts herself through uncomfortable and even downright upsetting situations to continue to show people that she is perfect.

what’s worse is that she’s so accustomed to people treating her more like a reality tv show star than a person. in the last episode of season 2, episode 24, we witness the newspaper club once more trying to tarnish her image. how do they try and get dirt on her? THEY FOLLOW HER AROUND.

and the saddest part is she notices IMMEDIATELY, and is able to take extremely detailed notes on what the perpetrators are like. she outright states this isn’t her first time being stalked. of course we know this, but can we register how upsetting that is? this young girl who doesn’t even have a genuinely caring and healthy family gets stalked constantly.

let’s not forget kokomi has clearly never had friends before she befriended chiyo and the rest. nobody treated her like her own person. they’ve all put her on this incredible pedastol, too far from the top to ever even think about befriending her. so she had no one to confide in, no one to make her feel safe.

but that all started changing when she became friends with saiki’s group. do you know why? because they showed her genuine respect and kindness. not empty validation and unwanted worship. the genuinely do care for HER, not like how the other pk students tend to only care for how she the image she portrays herself as.

no one ever cared to get to know her, until saiki and his friends. saiki’s group brings out the best in people. i could go on an entire tangent on why saiki’s friend group is so wonderful, but we can save that for another time. what i’m saying is that they treated her as equal. of course they do occasionally shower her in praise, but they have no ulterior motive. they don’t want to get with her, they just want to make her happy.

we see how she changes alongside this friend group. for instance, when saiko is introduced in episode 23 of season 1, she even states herself that the “old her” would’ve dropped everything for saiko. but now, she cares too much for her friends to ever let ANYONE insult them like that. and that feeling is reciprocated.

you can argue that every situation ends in kokomi’s favor, and therefore gets everything she wants. and i agree to an extent. she is most definitely adored by the gods. however, positive outcomes do not erase uncomfortable and even traumatic experiences. you can put a bandaid on a wound, but only time and care will truly heal it.

alongside that, i understand some people still view teruhashi as conceited and selfish. in episode 11 of season 2, after kusuke insults teruhashi, she cries in order to form a mob to sworm around him. and yes, this was wrong of her and i will not be making excuses. however, someone as worshipped as her is bound to have an inflated ego, is bound to develop such defense mechanisms. though it was wrong of her, there was reason behind why she acted in such a way.

she still has her flaws, she still gets easily annoyed with people. but let me remind you that, after garnering so much unwanted attention, anyone would get easily agitated by people trying to force themselves into their personal bubble.

building off on that, teruhashi is also extremely defensive of her perfect pretty girl facade. why? because it’s all she had for so long. she may have never had good connections or genuine love, but she had her image. and that kept her at ease.

but you can only fool your mind so much. there will always be a little light shining through the rose colored glasses, giving you a glimpse of what’s actually happening. and sometimes, the reality of it all gets to her.

but now, she has saiki’s group. and as much as i wish things would be different for her, for people to let her live her own life and treat her with actual respect instead of a rare doll to admire, i’m glad she has her friends. i mean, one of the reasons she even likes saiki so much is because he isn’t like the rest. he wasn’t falling to his knees to praise her. he wasn’t following her around like a lost puppy. he did none of that! and she felt comfort in his stoic exterior.

the fact that she likes saiki of all people simply proves that she genuinely doesn’t care for the validation people thrust upon her. all she wants is to feel safe and content, and saiki provides that for her.

but she still deserves better. she deserves to be able to set aside her reputation and be her own person. to say no to uncomfortable situations. she deserves so much more than what she gets. and while her friends are wonderful, i do wish the general population treated her with that same respect.

teruhashi is a strong-willed woman who sadly fell victim to internalized misogyny, to strive to be the perfect woman. and, in her eyes, the perfect woman aligns directly with society’s view of what a good woman is like. pretty, submissive, passive, nice; that’s not who she is though. we see that she has quite a bit of an attitude and is very easily annoyed. she’s also extremely clever and, while deceitful, does have a lot of passion.

and nothings wrong with that! it’s okay to be bitter sometimes. teruhashi still treats others with respect and she does yearn to be better, even if not presented consciously. she works hard to be who she is, and i admire that. but she deserves to be work hard to be who SHE wants to be, not what others expect of her.

in conclusion, while teruhashi is not a perfect person, she’s an extremely well-written character. the development she’s made has been astronomical, and i’m so proud of how far she’s come.

thank you for reading! ♥

#saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k. #teruhashi kokomi #saiki no psi nan #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki

[evakuality]

Mia, episode four

1.  Hanna staring deep into Mia’s face as she talks = not loosening my conviction they should be together.  But either way, I like this little scene.  One thing I think Druck does well is translating the ideas of all the russ-stuff from the og into its own thing that makes sense in its own context.  These suggestions really are all terrible, though.  I’m not at all surprised that Jonas and Matteo are taking the mickey out of it (side note - I missssss themmmmmm).  I know I’m seriously anti Alex and so I’m not feeling even remotely charitable, but I really dislike the way he’s walking in all ‘I have a much better idea than you guys’ and acting as if he’s better than them.  Plus, then they ended up using it and... ugh.  I just... I really hate William and poor Alex is bearing the brunt of that.  It’s probably not his fault; I just brought a whole lot of baggage into this viewing.

2.  I do love that Leonie is still ‘in charge’ in this way.  It’s a nice continuity from s1.  And she’s not perfect in any way; a lot of her little mannerisms and the way she acts and speaks from s1 are still here, but she’s mellowed a bit.  It’s not as directed and petty; she just likes being in charge and running stuff.

3.  Wow a lot is going on in this first clip.  Amira is getting her voice heard like a boss here!  (sidenote #2: she is stunning in this outfit with this makeup etc).  It’s obvious that she’s pretty used to Mia and her very set opinions (a bit like Leonie but she does it in a different way) and knows the only way to get what she/they need is to basically steamroll over every attempt Mia makes at speaking.  I like the point that Mia’s principles aren’t as important as the people who wouldn’t be able to pay the larger price.  Like, I get it - she’d rather not have anything to do with Alex (me either tbh) but Amira is also right.  Excluding him on principle isn’t fair to the bulk of the students.  However, ‘he shows up with all his money and his damn poster and now he’s a nice guy?’ - I mean, exactly.  Still.  There are other considerations and it shouldn’t be black and white.

4.  Oh, this walkway/ramp thing again.  My beloved setting returns!  Honestly, I really really love this school building.  It’s got so many little corners and changes and different spaces and this space in particular is used to really good effect.  Like rn, Alex has the high ground and while Mia is trying to stand up to him, it’s ineffectual because they’re having to use high angles on her vs low on him.  He still has the power.  And even when they come together, and there’s a seeming meeting of equals, he’s still got the high ground, even if just barely.  And as he walks away with his insufferable smirk, he regains that high ground even more (do I like this plot at all?  No, but I do like the film techniques used to explore it). I just really really love the way the camera works in these spaces.  Unlike a ‘normal’ school, this one has so much depth and variety even when they reuse the same spaces.  None of the times this thing is used is the effect exactly the same even when it seems similar.  Hmmmm, now part of me wants to look at every time it’s used and see how it’s done.  Somebody stop me.

5.  Yikes - I’m only 6 minutes in and I already wrote an essay.  Okay, let’s try to be more brief as we continue.  Oh.  Mia alone and in a nice space with warm tones around her (unlike the other two scenes this episode).  I do like these moments when we hang out with our mains and I’m glad we’re starting to get that more with Mia.  Very interesting that she chooses to fold and iron her clothes as a reaction to the ‘mega geil’ comments about Alex.  Clearly she’s starting to feel out of control about the whole business with Alex and the things he’s saying to her, and this is one way of her reasserting her control.  She likes having things under control and we see it coming out in these odd ways now that she’s found something that is out of her control.  She clearly gets some peace out of it, but it’s so rigid that you can tell it must be about to crack soon.  Nice touch with Hans bringing the comic relief.  I love him so much!!

6.  Lol, Matteo looks super disgusted by this chirpy conversation about Hans’ affliction.  I like that his characterisation is still traceable.  He’s not AS low and isolated as he seems in his season (the benefit of perspective I guess), but he’s still slumped and isn’t as engaged in the things around him - here and even with Jonas earlier.  It’s just nice to see because I know his season came pretty close after Mia’s so it’s good that it doesn’t seem to come out of nowhere.  Continuity - Druck is good at it.  Also how uncomfortable he is when the discussion turns to what gay penises look like - clearly he already has some ideas about how himself and equally clearly he doesn’t want to talk about ‘gay’ anything when it might be connected to him.  Little does he know, his phone already gave them ideas.  But I do like him already being the biggest Hanna/Jonas shipper - like, he’s so determined to make up for his interference that he’s fully trying to interfere again, and it’s a nice segue into ‘why does anyone spend a whole evening stalking someone’ - yeah, we see you Mia.  You’re more intrigued by Alex than you care to admit.  I enjoy these little seemingly unimportant clips of them just hanging out that actually advance the plot or characterisation.

7.  Hanna: Mia, please come to this place to save me from being alone with Jonas.  Mia: I’m on my way (despite not wanting to go at all) - are we seriously telling me she’s not at least a little bit in love with Hanna?  Seriously.  The need to help Hanna out is strong in this one.  But also... more mirror reflections, but this time she’s more centered (not entirely but more so) and her whole face is in shot.  Things are ‘coming together’ so to speak.  And ion hindsight, I can’t even seem to spot Jonas?  Is he even there?  Was Hanna trying to get Mia there through stealth????

8.  Yikes, this thing they’re doing where they say stuff about each other is a bit brutal.  Amira’s ones are mostly pretty awful, and targeted at her religion.  Very interesting that for the others, they seemed more focused on who they are rather than ‘what’ they are, but it’s not the same for her?  Like, I know we explore this a bit in her season but there’s been so much through the whole 2 seasons so far that I feel even more like we lost the opportunity to truly explore that more.  RIP the s4 she deserved!  

9.  I don’t like Alex still (he’s still too arrogant and irritating for me) but I do like the quiet slow way Mia is warming up to him.  She doesn’t want to, but you can see her re-evaluating him and starting to recalibrate her thoughts.  Like it’s not rushing and he is at least a little more interesting than William and has more charisma so I can see why she would become intrigued once she shifted her perspective.  Unlike William, who remained gross through the entire thing.

10.  So Mia’s desperate need to be in control and have everything perfect even extends to Alex’s place and his stuff?  Considering she still thinks she doesn’t like him, she’s taking a lot of trouble with his space.  Suuuuuper awkward alone times here though I do like this shot of Mia exploring Alex’s place and the camera just sort of following along with that and taking in what she sees.   Being this tight on her really plays up how ‘tight’ her PoV is and how she’s not seeing outside the bounds of what she wants to see.

11.  This is a very very long clip, but there’s something charming about it too.  Alex is... hmmmm, not exactly a good guy as yet (he’s still doing some quite douchey things), but he’s starting to open up and be real while still trying to protect some stuff that’s and that’s a lot more believable than William was.  I know he was supposed to be like that, too, in a lot of ways, but I never found him convincing.  Not the way Alex is.  I don’t like him (this is genuinely not a type of guy that appeals to me at all) but I can see why he might win Mia over.  Which I never did understand with Noora.  We shall see - there are things from later in Noora’s season that fill me with incandescent rage, and if those happen then I can’t warm to Alex properly at all.  But for now, I can see why Mia might be won over.  Even if I can’t forgive him for the way he treats Kiki and acts like he’s the only one with all the right answers.

Lots of long clips in this one with a whole heap going on.  It would have been something to go through this live, I’m sure.  I found lots of little moments in this one to like, and I like how Druck has managed the characters and the interactions to make it feel natural.  Considering that I really cannot stand the og of this and that one was very long, I think they’re doing a fairly good job of keeping this one engaging and a decent pace even if I still dislike one of the characters.

#druck #mia - episode 4 #wow this got long again #update on feelings about Alex - still don't like him

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Well, I read the ‘sneak peak’. God I hope they cut a lot out because there were places where the pacing felt like they cut something out.

The was... a general level of ‘I think I’d have more fun beating my head against the wall’, but there were a few places where I had some things that needed to be said.

Under the cut because I’ve included the full available text in addition to my b*tchy little notes.

So I’ve just realised the whole thing +sneak peak is 14,232 words, that’s a bit excessive for a single post.

I might leave just the snark here (I chucked the +sneak peak chapters up on AO3, it’s just for more contexts.)

Prologue

Under her list of ideas, she’d written the results of her experiments.

July 6th—candles—no burns.

July 8th—camping stove—no burns.

July 10th—blowtorch—no burns.

Experimenting on herself had been scary, but not as scary as the memory of her home burning.

You set shit on fire and your only experiments thus far are: “does this burn me? How about this?” CHILD! Start with a candle, a lighter and a f*cking FIRE EXTINGUISHER and practice putting out a single flame!!!! Then: light a single candle!

Stop putting your hand in fire if it scares you! “I am this many kinds of fire proof” does not equal “control of fire so I don't hurt anyone else”!!!!

Also, the wall behind the woman had opened into a shimmering portal of light. Just another clue that something unusual was going on.

Bloom waved this off. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m magic now?”

“You always were, Bloom,” said Headmistress Dowling. “You just didn’t know it yet.”

That was enough. She might have mysterious powers that were out of control, the world might be going mad, but her parents hadn’t raised her to listen to strange adults who approached in the dead of night with what sounded like a cult recruitment speech. Bloom snorted, abandoned her sleeping bag, and made for the door.

The woman’s voice stopped her at the mouth of the warehouse.

“I know about the fire, Bloom.”

Bloom trembled like a candle flame in a gust of wind. Slowly, she turned around. The woman was watching her with a steady gaze, keen but not unkind.

“Where are you going? You can’t go home. You’re too afraid you’ll hurt your parents again.”

Headmistress Dowling was right.

Kay, so obvious magic goes unremarked upon, not even a “nice trick with the lights, is that suppose to convince me”.

Also, either someone's been stalking Bloom, or Dowling is some kind of Mind Fairy.

FIRE

Once upon a time, it was my favorite possession, the fanciest book I owned, with golden swirls on the cover. But I’d grown up and packed the book into my old toy chest along with my teddy bears. I’d thought I was long past fairy tales.

That was before I used magic to burn down my house. My toy chest and my fairy-tale book had burned, too.

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz: 01

My book of fairy tales hadn’t included a swarm of kids around my age. One long-legged, capable-looking African American chick strode by, wearing a denim jacket and carrying a bag full of athletic gear. Wait, she wasn’t African American. Fairies didn’t have Africa or America. I didn’t know the name of the fairy realm I was currently in. Also, I hadn’t pictured fairies being into extreme sports.

Another girl, pale with a cloud of brown hair, was clutching several plants to her bosom as she hurried across the courtyard. A third sauntered by, vaguely punk rock and olive-skinned and wearing enormous headphones that buzzed faintly on her ears. I hadn’t pictured fairies rocking out, either.

Oh look, this Bloom also subscribes to the: “it's not whitewashing if they're aliens” theory

There was a rangy guy with skinny jeans, overly sardonic eyebrows, and a knife-bridge nose. California had plenty of white boy edgelords, but this edgelord had an actual knife. Oh no, actual knife! I wasn’t interested in getting to know Knife Boy better.

Called out Riven.

A stunning blonde girl with porcelain skin was taking a selfie with a group of overawed younger students. A luminous wisp floated in the air, making her glossy hair shine. Talk about a beauty angle. Seemingly, fairies could create their own beauty lighting.

Bloom is gay for Stella count: 01

I sneaked a look at him and grinned. His hair had coiffed peaks like a gold helmet and his shirt was pink, which I liked because gender stereotypes were for the weak. He even had a summer tan that fishbelly-pale redheaded me could only dream of. But no matter how cute he was, I wasn’t going to encourage him.

“I guess that means we have to do this forever. There are worse things, but—”

I stopped and turned to him. “I don’t need help, but thanks.”

Now I was looking at him properly, Some Guy was very cute, with a hero jawline and a confident air. Some Guy might be cute, but I was the independent type.

By the way, it's very important you all know that Bloom is a strong independent woman™  who scoff at gender roles, because she's hip and edgy, but she's like, totes not an edgelord(!) She's cool(!) Even if she hates her super pale skin.

Some of the chandeliers in this place were so dainty and delicate, they looked like stars suspended on gilt ribbons. The rooms were large and bright, with sunbeams dyed by stained-glass windows that were as intricate as the embroidery on a princess’s hem. Much of the stained glass was different shades of green, subtly coloring the air around us as though we were in a world made of jade and emerald.

Welcome to the Emerald City of Oz?

She continued talking, full of ennui about the fairy-tale castle, while I sneaked another look at her ring. “If you ever want to go back,” Stella said as she deliberately flashed it at me. She was making some kind of power play, and I didn’t know why.

Stella might be a bitch now, but I'm pretty sure It's only because Stella is also Diaspro in this reality?

FIRE

There was a realm called Eraklyon, which sounded like a dragon clearing its throat.

I mean... that's one way to pronounce it? I guess?

FIRE

I’d do anything for my parents, including lie to them about my new boarding school in Definitely Switzerland. 

Your parents didn't ask about any paper work? They just accepted that you were moving overseas without warning? Who's paying for this alleged boarding school? Actually how are you paying for school?

We’d get dressed up and she’d play me cheerleader-type music. I remembered one chant that went Close your eyes and open your heart! The cheesy brainwashing hadn’t worked. I never much cared about frilly princess gowns, but I liked the idea of being at home in my princess castle.

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz: 02

In what beautiful blonde Stella had called the Winx suite—a bright series of rooms with tall windows and a view I couldn’t allow my parents to see—only one person got a room of their own. To my total lack of surprise, that person was Stella.

Bloom is gay for Stella count: 02

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz: 03

Really? That's how you're chosing to shoe-horn the Winx brand in? It just happens to be the name of their dorm. Sorry, their 'suite'.

When Mom, always waiting for my transformation into Ms. Popular, asked about the other girls, I shrugged. “Honestly, it’s five girls in an enclosed space, so … it’s only a matter of time before we descend into a Lord of the Flies situation and kill one another.”

So... no. Lord of the Flies is an extension of a study in relation to a very specific mono-ethnic (white), male and privileged group. It is literally young rich white boys, and the break down in community and sense of ethics that results in their single bias attitudes in the face of adversity.

The Winx are firstly female, multi-ethnic (not as much as they should be) and from a variety of socioeconomic backgrounds. If it devolves into murder, it will be vicious but it will not be “Lord of the Flies.” Find a better reference.

I busied myself with unpacking to hide my discomfort. “Ms. Dowling said there’s a fairy somewhere in my family tree? A long-dormant magical bloodline?” I sighed. “One day I will get used to how ridiculous all this sounds.”

Aisha’s surprise became wry amusement. “Oh my God. Have I just met the one person in the universe who’s never read Harry Potter?”

… why is that your conclusion? Long lost princess/prince/hero/magical heir swept up for adventure is a common trope. It doesn't make it feel any less ridiculous.

I wondered if any of my new suitemates ever felt that way. Happy bustling Terra, cool girl Musa, glamorous Stella, and Aisha who seemed so grounded.

It is so amazing how the girls that Bloom just happened to notice outside, you know, the only girls Bloom noticed outside, are all her roommates.

MIND

Terra’s super sweet voice revved into overdrive, picking up speed and frantic pleasantness on the way. “She’s just having fun. And I know it’s a lot. Shocker, Earth Fairy named Terra likes plants. It’s a family thing. I’ve got a cousin named Flora. My mom’s name is Rose, and my dad works in the greenhouse here. That’s why I know a lot of the second years. I grew up around Alfea, and—”

ohp, there it is

Creators kick my nostalgia for the lulz:04

“Stella’s a second year? Why is she in a suite full of first years?”

“Oh yeah. Actually … I don’t know. Some administrative thing last year? I mean, I think …”

I think you’re lying, thought Musa. She turned her back and dipped her power toward Terra, getting a faint sense that …

Somehow I doubt it was blowing up a potions lab in pursuit of a new shade of pink.

SPECIALIST

Less cool was Sky, Riven’s super annoying best friend in the whole world, who was rattling on about the ginger girl from the human world he’d met yesterday. Riven was sure she was crazy. He knew this because crazy was what Sky looked for in a woman.

So Riven is Riven and Brandon, okay.

I hate these assholes.

Riven bared his teeth. “Correction: I got high this summer.”

… : /

There was no real point trying to beat Sky. He was the best. Anyone in Alfea could tell you that … right after they told you Riven was the worst.

There was no real point, but Riven kept trying to beat Sky, anyway. Hey, nobody ever said Riven was smart.

… >:(

Sky’s dad was Andreas of Eraklyon, the dead legendary hero, slayer of the Burned Ones. Sky’s dad-substitute was Specialist Headmaster Silva, their fearless leader with the cold blue eyes and passion for early morning runs.

So many dead parents suddenly

He passed the blue, shimmering Barrier and went into the deep, dark woods. He could almost hear Silva’s voice now, telling the first years that the Barrier was their magical shield against the Burned Ones. Beware those merciless monsters with their inhuman strength and speed, never mind that nobody’s seen one in sixteen years, woo woo, so scary.

And Bloom is how old? Also: guess who’s about to start showing up suddenly! Trick question, it’s the Burned Ones, the ones we’ve already been told are the new series’ enemy.

EARTH

Their suite was called the Winx suite, which was such a cool name. Maybe they could call themselves the Winx Club?

Yep, they're going with that, okay. 

You couldn’t even name the suit Wings in the kind of obnoxious cursive that makes it look like Winx and have Bloom misread it and become a running joke amongst the girls?!?!?!

Terra nervously eyed the food laid out on the tables before them. Sometimes she felt as if food might bite her before she bit into it. She couldn’t take cookies. All the other girls in the Winx suite were so skinny and pretty. If Terra ate a bunch of cookies, people would say, “No wonder she looks like that.” But if Terra got a plate full of carrots, people would say, “Who does she think she’s kidding, when she looks like that?” It was hard to know what to do.

Wow, just, wow. Terra honey, they do you so dirty. Fat girls don't have to hate themselves, just a note for the creators. And Terra, baby, if people gonna talk shit either way, you eat whatever the f*ck you want.

(If this is not the set up for a personal growth arc in which Terra learns to not-hate-her-body and that she is worth loving regardless, and the creators really think plus sized folks just hate themselves as a constant state of being, I'mma be so unbelievably pissed off.)

She wasn’t going to hunt for her annoying brother.

Hold up, Terra has a brother?

FIRE

I still needed a breather. “Where can I go that’s the opposite of this? What’s outside?”

Cute Guy looked alarmed. “Past the Barrier? Depending on the rumors, bears or wolves or something much scarier.”

Did you not hear about the dead body? The very mutilated dead body? Sky, buddy? You're not going to bring up the very murdered and mutilated dead body in order to prevent the new girl from a foreign world (that you want to bang) from going into actual and legitimate danger? No?

I thought about Stella saying once she knew me, she’d find something to love about me.

It made me smile.

Bloom is gay for Stella count: 03

As if I’d conjured her by thinking about her, Stella’s voice rang out. “Hey, Sky. Can we talk?”

Stella was wearing her flawless new outfit and holding two drinks. Every twinkly light in the courtyard caught gold in her hair. She was looking right at Cute Guy, whose name was apparently Sky. From Sky’s expression, he knew Stella pretty well.

Yeah, Stella is Diaspro now

EARTH

Oh, for the love of … Riven was menace-flirting at some poor Specialist boy. This was Riven’s typical behavior when he felt off balance. Terra had once witnessed Riven looming at a fern in a way that suggested he either wanted to prune viciously or make out.

I... what???

“Really? Bullying the new kid? Be more obvious.”

Riven smirked, because of course he did. “Can’t bully the willing. Right?”

There was something loaded about Riven’s tone.

“I don’t know what that means!” the new boy said sharply.

The new boy was clearly feeling uncomfortable. Terra sympathized. The poor thing mustn’t take Riven’s terrible personality personally.

Well, someone belongs on a sex offenders registry. What the f*ck Terra, don't excuse this shit, it's not okay.

“But sometimes we’ve had a bad day, and a scrawny little twerp says the wrong thing at the wrong time,” Terra purred. “And all of a sudden, we’re not happy you’re talking to us. And we’re not nice. And most of all, we’re not harmless.”

“purred”, really? You gonna make it sound sensual? Let the girl Snarl! Damnit!

The vines were suffocating him so he couldn’t even talk. It was so nice and peaceful.

Terra smiled sweetly. “What’s that, Riv? I’m sure it’s clever. I just can’t hear you.”

His face turned red. He was about to pass out, Terra noted, still with that feeling of cheery distance. She shouldn’t actually let him faint. Riven would hate that.

Uhhh, so Terra might have psychopathic tendencies and maybe a dissociative disorder.

She shouldn’t actually let him faint. Riven would hate that.

Yeah, and his victim would have hated being assaulted, choke this douche.

Gods above I cannot stress how much I hate this Riven in comparison to OG Riven, and I was not OG Riven's biggest fan.

FIRE

THESE ARE THE SCENES FROM THE TRAILER!!!!!

Bloom continues to be a dumbass.

WATER

Aisha wasn’t used to Alfea, but she was used to being part of a team. 

Well someone hasn't watched the show.

How her mother and Bloom had been fighting about her social life, and how Bloom would rather fix old lamps than cheerlead.

Who is this woman, where is Vanessa? And Bloom's art thing? The lamps sounds interesting, but I've never seen sign of it yet, was it cut for time?

“It was almost like the fire had a life of its own,” Bloom went on. “I don’t remember how long I let it burn. I just remember their screams.”

When Bloom finished the story, she was clearly fighting back tears. A subtle, weary tremor went through her frame, like a runner past her endurance. It seemed like Bloom had been fighting for a long time.

“My mom was covered in third-degree burns,” Bloom said. “Because of me. And if I hadn’t gone in there to stop it? To stop what I started?” She looked completely burned out.

“Every night after that, I sneaked out. I was so scared I’d hurt them again that I slept in this creepy-ass warehouse near home. Until Ms. Dowling found me and …”

Given the Tragic Backstory™ , I'm actually a little surprised Bloom didn't straight up run away from home completely, the fact that she went back at all...

“I’ve heard the story of my birth a million times.” Bloom’s tone brooked no argument. “Miracle baby. There was a problem with my heart in the womb, but the day after I was born, it was gone.”

Aisha went cold. “Oh God,” she breathed. “You’re a changeling.”

Because Bloom needs to be even more Special™, this is doing nothing to ruin my theory Bloom is a Burned One, by the way. (Actually starting to think Burned Ones are Fire Fairies whose powers pretty much consumed them or cursed that way or something along those lines.)

So where's the “real” Bloom Peters? Was the fetus even real, or just a simulacrum to have something to switch MC Bloom with?

MIND

Stella’s tone gave Musa pause. Plus, Musa could tell Aisha was really upset. Deliberately, she let her powers turn on, and faced Stella with her eyes glowing.

I'm sorry, I thought Musa couldn't control her powers and that’s why she “has to wear her headphones at all times to block out the noise of other peoples emotions”, now she can 'deliberately turn them on'? When did this happen? Did I miss some Implications?

“You’re a Mind Fairy,” Aisha observed, but there was no other judgment.

Aisha turned to Stella just as Terra came out of her and Musa’s room.

“A Mind Fairy?” Terra repeated sharply. “What’s your connection? Memories, thoughts—”

Okay, so now we learn there are different types of mind fairies. Explain to me why Musa is an Empath with Synthetic input? ('hearing' feelings, or experiencing them in a way that registers as audio.) Is this a “Song of their Hearts” reference, because I don't feel like that was done on purpose if it is.

Only Terra was moving toward Stella, and the way she moved wasn’t Terra’s usual going-nowhere happy bustle. The way Terra moved was that of a woman on the warpath.

Musa was almost impressed.

“She was talking to Sky, wasn’t she?” Terra demanded.

“And?” Stella demanded haughtily in return.

Terra pursued: “And I know what happened to the last person who talked to Sky. I was here last year, remember?”

A crack appeared in Stella’s veneer as she shot back, “You don’t know the full story!”

Didn’t seem like Terra cared. “Ricki was your best friend, then she talked to Sky. Now she’s not here anymore. Why is that again?”

Yeah, definitely getting the feeling DiaStella isn't being held back for a Pursuit of Pink Potions accident.

FIRE

There was even more rustling than usual in the detritus piled in the warehouse corners, but I didn’t care.

Why teleport there? Is there a Rule about where Portals can go? Or is is just Because Bloom felt this was the best place to pop in?

“You don’t have to be okay,” Mom assured me. “You’re only sixteen. Being that far away is a huge deal.”

Dad said gently, “I couldn’t have done it when I was your age. Be thankful you got your mom’s bravery.”

But now I knew that wasn’t true. I didn’t get anything from my mom. No wonder I was always such a disappointment to her.

Osmosis [noun] Def. 2. the process of gradual or unconscious assimilation of ideas, knowledge, etc..

You have some damn decent parents by the sounds of this scene, even if your mother is sure you're a likeable human being who will have friends one day, why are you this way?! For the Angst points?!

Only I could see Mom through the kitchen window. She didn’t seem disappointed. She looked so happy just to be talking to me. How could I ever tell her what I did to her? How could I ever tell her what I was?

Okay, so this line is bringing back the “they deserve to know what I am” line from the trailer, and now I'm torn between “The Winx deserve to know Bloom is a Burned One” and “my parents deserve to know I'm a Magical Fire Fairy (who burned down our house) and maybe a Changeling and thus not their biological daughter technically, maybe.”

My parents told me they loved me. I knew I loved them. And I knew I didn’t belong here. Maybe I never had.

May I advise you: remove your angst blanket, turn on a light and clean the room to remove the Dark and Gritty filters of your life.

I heard faint whispers. Sibilant. Strange.

Sibilant means hissing by the way. In case anyone was wondering.

The monster was on the grate above me.

I crawled as fast as I could. The ring was on the other side of the mesh, but there was a hole just big enough for my hand to get through. I reached for the ring, almost had it.

But in the crawl space in front of me, past the barrier, the shadow of the creature passed on top of the grate. The monster bashed frantically at the grate. Once. Twice. Until with a ringing metallic crash, the monster fell into the claustrophobic space with me.

I made one last grab for the ring, but the monster slammed its hand down on it.

Oh man, if only telekinesis was one of the most basic of Fairy abilities Bloom might have been able to do something, but no, it's basic bitch elements or nothing.

SPECIALIST

I really freaking hate this version of Sky, just, so much.

Terra has her suspicions about the Stella-Sky dynamic and she just, 'oh they's in love at first sigh nothing could possibly go wrong here' hand the number over? Really?

Diaspro!Stella confirmed?

#fate the winx saga #fate saga #winx #winx club #it's bitch o'clock #fate the winx saga book sneak peak reaction

[algrimthestrong]

@beautiful-mischief | Continued from here.

beautiful-mischief‌:

Though he had certainly had a couple of drinks - he tended not to lose himself in his cups early on as Thor often did - Loki liked to think that he was capable of composing himself enough to at least stop acting like a fool in Algrim’s presence. It was why he often drank so little in the first place, preferring to err on the side of caution and keep his faculties about him when everyone else was going wild. There was the slightest hint of a rosy flush upon high cheekbones, he supposed he could attribute that to the wine rather than his tutor’s fussing, the younger prince half tempted to scowl at the fact that Algrim was actually teasing him. The fact that he was seeing another side to his tutor, however, saved him from his ire. Loki had always been keen to see if Algrim could ever have fun, after all. For the most part the elf didn’t look much different - ever composed, seemingly distant from all the chaos and keeping a watchful eye as it unfurled - but Loki could certainly appreciate that he had dressed for the occasion, looking far more grand than he could ever recall for the sake of the festivities.

“You look rather regal yourself, Algrim.” He insisted in return, offering the councillor a similarly playful smile. “It’s almost as if you’re trying to impress someone looking so distinguished.” It was a stab in the dark, really. An attempt, albeit a rather ineffectual one, at trying to deflect his own embarrassment. Nothing about Algrim that he had ever seen indicated that he was even remotely interested in romance - but with plenty of dignitaries from Alfheim about, he supposed it was worth a little tease. It wasn’t as if the young prince was at all bothered about wooing anyone from the other court, rolling his eyes as Algrim brought up the royal twins and then promptly noticed the swarms of people around them. Including Thor, who as always had to be the first to conquer. And who could expect Asgard’s golden son to go for anyone save for a princess? At least Loki could take some satisfaction in seeing Algrim’s disapproval, his expression making it plenty apparent.

The second he heard his tutor’s query, however, Loki tossed his head away from the unfurling scene in derision and turned back to face Algrim, almost aghast that he had even thought to ask for his opinion on the matter. “As if I would be interested in either when everyone in sight is clamouring for their attention.” He retorted, that telltale flush of embarrassment returning despite how much he protested. “They are both…lovely, I’m sure, but were I to go and speak to them people would think that I was only there to try and compete with Thor.” Loki could picture it already, how he would no doubt seem desperate or like some copy-cat should he try and set his eyes on either of the royal twins. Some stubborn part of him was convinced that he could, were he even remotely tempted, but it seemed undignified to lower himself to his brothers level. Huffing out a sigh, the young prince took another sip of his drink. “To tell you the truth, I could fancy them both.” He admitted, staring down into the depths of his cup for a moment, preferring that to looking at Algrim for the moment. Though he had always been rather close to his tutor, forever seeking his praise when it came to his studies of the arcane, being so frank with him about other things was strange indeed. Strange, but…nice, somehow. Really he supposed he didn’t have many other people to talk to about matters of the heart save for his mother. “Thor makes it very clear that it is only women he prefers, and I’m not like that.” He added. “Most times it’s not the outside I care about at all.”

Loki’s attempt at flattery, while painfully obvious, was met with quiet laughter. “What do they say? Dress to impress.” There was the barest hint of a playful smile behind Algrim’s solemn facade. “All jesting aside,” he continued, having seen right through Loki’s tactic to try to get the elder to spill his secrets, “I am here in the role of both participant and formal observer. It is not often that we play host to such exalted guests. I could not have eschewed attending such an event even if I wanted to.” On any other day, Loki’s indiscretion would have earned him a lecture. Tonight, though, was an occasion for joy and merriment, and its atmosphere of euphoric excitement put Algrim in a forgiving mood. Besides, their banter was all in good humour. If Loki preferred to stay with his mentor rather than follow Thor’s example of pursuing amorous liaisons, then Algrim had no issue with it. Still, with Thor distributing his affections so freely among the female guests, one might expect Loki to feel compelled to match him. Hence, Algrim was glad that Loki had so far managed to keep his wits about him and his hands to himself. The younger prince had always been the more sedate of the two brothers, preferring to keep private matters private rather than make a public show of his love life. There was no telling what the evening would lead to, though, and the councillor would hardly begrudge him his fun if Loki chose to indulge his vices at some point during the course of the night.

Loki’s explanation as to why he refused to join the flocks of suitors trying to woo the Alfheim twins confirmed Algrim’s suspicions. He nodded sagely. Loki’s admission that he found both siblings equally appealing drew a knowing look from Algrim, as if he had expected such an answer. “It was not my intention to embarrass you, Loki.” Matters of the heart were a delicate subject Algrim had rarely dared touch upon with either of the princes. His own children had never had a chance to come of age, and though he felt woefully inadequate to counsel his royal charges on such intimate matters, he endeavoured to do so regardless. The brothers were at an age at which romantic pursuits were at the forefront of their mind. It was better to gently guide them through the rough years of sexual awakening than risk siring unwanted progeny. Thor, in particular, had already earned a reputation as a notorious philanderer. Yet, for all his efforts to charm the princess into his bed, Algrim knew that her parents kept her under close supervision. Try as he might, the eldest Odinson would need to find a different paramour to slake his thirst tonight.

“There is no shame in seeking variety in romantic partners,” Algrim responded in a tone of gentle acceptance. He drew his lips into his mouth to wet them before continuing, “I, too, care little about physical attributes. The most enticing form is without appeal to me if the mind that resides in it is dull and narrow.” Perhaps it was a mistake to grant Loki such insight into his personal preferences, but he felt that the younger would appreciate being trusted with such a matter rather than judge his mentor for his tastes. Algrim imagined there were few in whom Loki might confide, with how firmly the majority of Asgard’s warrior society was still entrenched in antiquated views of male pride.

#beautifulmischief #beautiful-mischief #thank you so much <3 #and the idea of Algrim acting as Loki's wingman is hilarious #I love it

[harrystylesfic-blog1]

Any thing CEO Harry and I’ll die

Harry Styles/The Reader

Word Count: 3,049

A/N: hope you enjoy!

You’re twenty one years old, a junior in college, and startingthe first day of your internship at Styles and Co. Broker Company. 

It’s unusual for someone so young and inexperienced to slithertheir way into such a notorious and well known business, but with a collegeprofessor that worships the ground that you walk on and an extremelywell-written reference letter from the dean of your college, it was only amatter of time before you got your foot in the door. The position isn’t anythingspectacular–just the personal assistant to an executive assistant–but thereisn’t anywhere for you to go but up, you suppose. 

No matter the seemingly insignificant status of your new job,when the Monday morning rolls around that you’re first scheduled to work,you’re shitting yourself as you make your way into the sleek, glass walledheadquarters of the company. Dressed to the nines and sweating at the collar ofyour freshly pressed blazer, you slowly toe your way to the front desk, heelsclacking obnoxiously loud across the marble floor. 

“Excuse me,” you say, approaching the receptionist. She looksrather annoyed by your presence, obviously very busy with the call log splayedout in front of herself, and she stares you down with her heavily coated lashesand cherry red lips pressed tight. “I’m supposed to start work today. Canyou tell me where I might find Winona Jones? She said she would add my name toa list…” 

Thinking back on last week’s emails, Winona Jones came throughthe screen as a very pert and enthusiastic woman, excited to have an extra pairof hands around the office. She’d made it very clear that while she would tryher hardest to make you feel at home in the office, her boss and men of hisstatus in the business were very serious about keeping the work environmentprofessional. It didn’t do much to soothe your nerves, that knowledge, but as abusiness major you’ve been trained on how to keep things as such.

The receptionist in front of you squints for a moment, glancingover your person as if she’s judging your honesty based on your outfit ofchoice. Trying not to act offended, although you’d like to give her a few wordsto the wise about trying not to overdraw her brows next time, you give her apatient smile as she finally lifts a list of names into her view. 

“Name, please?”

You clear your throat, reaching into your handbag to pull outyour I.D. “Here,” you say, handing it over. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

She turns her nose up in dissatisfaction when she finds yourname on the list in front of her, something that brings you an oddly satisfyingamount of joy. “You’re on here.” She returns your license and begins todig through one of her desk drawers, bringing her hand back with a scannablebadge. 

Upon inspection you find that it has your name on it, along withyour job title and access level. The sight leaves you almost in awe. None of yourfriends can say that they have an official name badge with their name and thebiggest brokerage company in the state’s emblem on it in the same breath.Honestly, for all that you are petrified, you’re excited to brag. 

The receptionist instructs you to head to the elevators in thecenter of the room, where you’ll need to scan your badge in order to make it tothe sixth level of the building. Without giving her so much as a thank you, youturn on your heel and make for the sliding metal doors. Oddly, the satisfactionof proving the woman wrong fills you with a sense of importance, and althoughno one is giving you a second glance there’s still a pep in your step, almostas if you’re trying to impress. 

There’s a security guard upon entrance to the elevator, head totoe in suit and tie. Before the doors have closed he requests to see youridentification, which you hand over without argument. He’s probably twice yoursize, a whole head taller than you despite the fact that you’re the averageheight for a woman of your age, and he looks as intimidating as one of thosespecial agent’s on television.

“You’re the new intern?” he asks out of nowhere once the doorshave shut and the elevator has started heading up. 

Awkwardly, you nod. “Uhm, yeah. Is it that obvious?”

He laughs, shaking his head, and now that he knows you aren’tplaying any games he seems about a hundred times nicer. “No, no. You looklike you fit in fine. Just relax, though. You’re more tense than my wife whenthe whole family is over for Thanksgiving.”

His comment seems to lighten the mood a bit, and you can’t helpbut laugh as you come to a halt on the top floor. The doors slowly slide open,and the scene before you makes every muscle in your body go rigid and throat tightenshut.

As you make to put one foot in front of the other, the manoffers a gentle, “Good luck, Y/N.” 

Such simple words of kindness completely overshadow the awfulexperience you had downstairs. You glance back at the security guard, smilingthrough the nerves. “Thank you. I never got your name.”

“I’m John,” he tells you. 

Before either of you can speak again the doors shut completely,a barrier between your last chance to run and your future career. There’s noturning back now, and you take a few calming breaths before you begin walkingdown the hallway.

At the very end of the marble flooring stands a set of wide,glass doors that reveal an airy office, that of which you assume belongs toyour boss. Right before that entrance is two desks, opposite each other acrossthe room. One is empty, only a computer and landline phone sitting atop thesurface. The other is home to a variety of office supplies and a very softlooking fern. Behind that desk sits a middle aged woman, curvy in nature androcking a beehive hairdo that’s been long out of style. 

“Winona?” you ask, approaching the woman. She immediately looksup from where she was previously keying away at her computer, and the smilethat comes to rest upon her mouth seems to light up the room.

“Oh, goodness!” Her voice ishigh and pitchy, ringing across the walls. She stands as quick as you can blinkand rounds the desk, holding out her hand for you to grab. “You must be Y/N!”

She displays just as she hadover email, almost too nice. It’s better than the receptionist downstairs, buther perky nature only rattles your nerves further. You’ve never been one to berude though, so you follow her lead, smiling and shaking her hand.

“I am! Sorry if I’m a bitearly. I figured that it would be best if we got a head start on my training.”You adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder. “I hope that’s alright.”

Winona nods heartily. “Oh,yes, honey. That’s more than alright. Harry isn’t in for the morning yet, so thisgives me a few minutes to give you a rundown of what all we didn’t fullydiscuss over the computer.”

Before she begins promptingyou, she leads you over to the empty desk and gives you a second to situateyour blazer and purse over the back of your chair. It’s all very sleek andclean, just as the rest of the building appears to be. God, you can’t believehow lucky your life is turning out to be.

“So,” Winona says, crossingher arms. “As you know, you’ll be my assistant, and I am the assistant to thebig man. It’s kind of like a chain of command—although I’ll obviously treat youlike an equal. For logistics though, I do whatever Harry asks, and you dowhatever I ask.”

“Sounds simple enough,” youtell her, nodding along at her words.

You know in passing who HarryStyles is, seeing as his name is across the company building, but you have noclue what to expect. A quick Google search might give you a small bit ofinformation, but you don’t think you’ll have much to worry about, what withthis mystery man employing such an abstract woman to be his executiveassistant.

Maybe he’s in his latesixties, going through a late mid-life crisis as he tries to hold onto hisyouth that’s long gone. He’s probably got greying hair and a loud, boomingvoice that’ll make you jump every time he enters a room. What if one day downthe line he gets a little too drunk at a company Christmas party and admitsthat he never loved his wife of twenty years and wishes he could turn back theclock?

As an array of differentscenarios race through your mind, Winona rattles on about the perks andhighlights of the job. Faintly you can hear her explaining how she was the onewho originally requested your assistant’s job be opened, what with how thecompany is taking off under it’s new management and it’s getting difficult forher to keep up all on her own. In an attempt to mock interest you nod along,smiling every once in a while.

Eventually the two of youmerge into your own seats, resorting to talking across the room.

“I’ve got a bad back, y’know,”Winona says. “I think that we should petition the H.R. board to get us thosebig, bouncy ball chairs. What do you think?”

You haven’t been listeningreally, something you feel the slightest bit bad about, but you want to playalong. Opening your mouth to reply, she cuts you off before you have the chance.

“Oh, I’ll be back in asecond, Y/N.” She stands from her seat, knees angled inward as she beginsrushing down the hallway you entered from. “All this talking gets my bladderexcited!”

The laugh you let out isinvoluntary. Is there any chance you’ve entered the Twilight Zone? In undertwenty minutes you’ve met someone from every end of the personality spectrum,it seems, and your nerves are still causing your hands to tremble in your lap.

As you wait for Winona’sreturn, the one thing to keep you sane is the thought of how your friend’s aregoing to beg you to spill every detail about your first day, and how you’ll beable to dramatize every single second of it.

Eventually you hear footstepsagain, and you mentally prepare yourself for another bombardment of your newdesk buddy’s chatter. Except, when the footsteps come closer and eventually theperpetrator comes into view, it is definitely not Winona. It’s a young man,probably edging toward his mid to late twenties, and he’s honestly one of themost gorgeous men you have ever seen in your life.

With a sharp, strong jaw thatlooks as though it could cut glass and shoulder’s so broad that it pulls hissuit jacket taut across his chest, the man comes to a curious halt in front ofyour desk. His deep, charming green eyes blink a few times, framed by the silkysmooth waves of brown hair of his head, and he pulls his brows tight.

He’s obviously meant to behere if he made it past the elevator clearance, but you have no idea how to addressone of the company’s clients yet. Winona still isn’t back, and you have nothingto do but fumble through your words.

“Uhm, hello, sir,” you say,wiping your clammy hands across your navy pants. “I’m sorry but Mr. Styles isn’tin yet. If you’d like to wait a second I can try to see what time he’ll bearriving this morning.” You cough out of nowhere, and even though it’scompletely uncalled for, your cheeks begin to burn bright red.

The handsome stranger juststares at you for a minute, a range of emotions dancing across his face beforehe settles for an oddly arousing smirk. He shoves the palms of his hands intohis pockets, cocking a hip as he glances down at you with teasing eyes. “He’snot here yet, you say?”

“Uhm, no, sir,” you reply.God, you have to be the most awkward person in the world with the way you beginto fidget under this man’s attention.

“Okay,” he says. “Are you hisassistant?”

“I’m his assistant’s assistant.But, he’s still my boss, so I guess that I’m his assistant, too.”

The man nods, chuckling underhis breath. Faintly, you wonder how inappropriate it would be if you crawledunderneath your desk and hid for the rest of your life.

He opens his mouth to speakagain, the playful glint in his eye still burning bright, but the sound ofWinona’s voice begins to echo down the hallway as he starts up. She enters theroom mid-sentence, still talking about appropriate office seating, but when shenotices the man her words come to a standstill.

She places her hands on herhips and squints at him, a disapproving look on her face. “Do you know whattime it is, young man? Do I need to call your father?”

The mystery man’s eyes gowide and he lets out a burst of laughter, copying Winona’s body language. Hesays, “Excuse me, Winona, but a queen is never late. Everyone else is simplyearly.”

Did this handsome man justquote The Princess Diaries? How do he and Winona know each other? What ishappening?

Involuntarily, you let out asmall noise of question. The both of them turn to face you, and Winona breakscharacter as she suddenly comes to life with excitement.

“Oh, Harry! This is Y/N, thenew hire I was telling you about!”

Hold on. Harry Styles?

A million thoughts race throughyour mind at once, from wondering how someone so young could be the CEO of amultimillion dollar brokerage company to how Winona mislead you to believe thisman would be some kind of hardass. You want to question everything that you’vebeen told up until now and as about a hundred questions, but everything happensso quickly that you’re left in the dirt.

“I figured that, Winona,” Harrysays, smirking at the older woman. He returns his attention to you after abeat, sending you a wink. “I don’t think Y/N has any idea of who I am, however?”

Winona laughs, slapping atHarry’s arm before making her way back to her seat. You remain where you’re at,stomach fluttering as you sit at a loss for words.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles,”you say, realizing that your behavior probably came across as unprofessionaland rude. Based off Winona’s description of Mr. Styles he doesn’t like to jokearound often—something that you assume he only makes exceptions for whenever heis very close to someone, as he is with Winona. “I’m mortified right now.Please excuse the last two minutes.”

Harry laughs then, shaking hishead as he waves a hand in the air. You honestly have no clue what’s going onand don’t know whether you’re going to lose your job as soon as you’ve got it.

“It’s alright, Y/N.” He stepscloser, holding out a hand for you to shake. “And, please. Call me Harry.”

What?

Despite the sheer confusionthat you feel at the moment, you shake his hand and try to come across as completelycalm. It’s probably failing, but thankfully Harry doesn’t make to embarrass youfurther. He turns toward his door, the feeling of his hand on yours lingeringeven after he’s out of reach, and he waves you and Winona goodbye.

“I would stay and chat but I’mafraid I’ve got more work on my plate right now than I have time.” He winks atWinona and send you an overly charming smile that causes your fingers to clenchin your fist. “Winona, I trust that you’ll be on your best behavior in trainingY/N today.”

Winona snorts, rolling hereyes. “Always, Harry.”

With a bit more laughter,Harry enters his office and heads to his desk. You watch him through the glasswalls, shock still sitting at the forefront of your brain, and when you finallyforce yourself to turn away Winona is smiling at you, much too knowing.

“I though you said that Mr.Styles was very… professional.” You unabashedly stare at her with an emotionother than something positive now, because you had spent the past few dayspreparing your poker face for no reason.

“He is,” Winona says. “Imeant the older Mr. Styles. Harry’s father, who owns the company.” She shrugs,turning her attention toward her computer. “Harry, however, is very charmingand fun. He hates a serious office environment. Says that it kills brain cells,or something.”

She begins droning on again,something about how she doesn’t believe half the things that Harry tells herand how she’s been here for too long, but you zone out again.

It’s an awful thought, butyou quickly weigh the pro’s and con’s of staying at this new job. It’ll be sogood for your resume and might lead to bigger and better things, but Harry Styles,as you have learned, is the most attractive human to ever bless the earth. He’slike an angel sent from heaven, here to fill you with want despite not knowinga single thing about him.

You’re going to have to see himfive days out of the week, following his every order and doing things like runninghis errands and learning his coffee order. Just the thought of spending so muchtime with someone so attractive, not able to touch and definitely not havingthose thoughts reciprocated…

Your earlier thoughts of havinga surprisingly lucky life quickly swirl down the drain. There’s no way you can walkaway from this opportunity.

You’re going to have tosuffer through this, and hope that you don’t end up drooling across the entireoffice as you pine for your boss. This is going to be hell.

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #1d imagine #1d fanfic #mine #ceo harry #request #harryxmac

[thelastpilot]

The Monster in the Room- Chapter 8

It’s been awhile! So the journey restarts. I really hope people will give this story a shot again! I recommend skimming the end of chapter 7 again to rejog your memory

Kitsune

The Kitsune race are beings tied to and affected by the NeverNever as it is the spiritual realm, and inherently Kitsune are spirits by nature. In humanity, the form of kitsune is often referred to as ‘fox’ and more specifically the ‘red fox’. In the human realm there are many varieties of this mortal creature, and while varieties exist too among the Kitsune themselves their animal forms are seen most often with a red coat of fur. If a Kitsune lives beyond a hundred years, it becomes evident as a mark of power in their fur color, often changing to shades of white, silver, or gold; none of which are seen in Kitsunes younger than a century. The most obvious distinction between the creature ‘the fox’ and the animal form of the Kitsune is the number of tails, for while the animal has one tail the Kitsune can have anywhere from one to nine, depending on their age. A Kitsune is awarded their ninth tail on the day they reach a hundred years of age, as they have reached such age, wisdom, and power that they have transcended the ranks of those younger than them within their species.

Within the culture of the Kitsune these silver or gold coated foxes are revered as elders of great importance, and even within other cultures of creatures of magic it is not uncommon for these beings to be seen with great respect. The red coated Kitsune however are not viewed this way, as they can be any manner of age. Typically, the older and wiser a Kitsune becomes the more tails they are seen with. Their physical manifestations are influenced by their perception of reality since they are beings of spirit, so as they undergo hardships and achieved new understandings their physical form changes to reflect this. Upon the introduction of humanity to the realms at large the Kitsune were seen as one of the more accepting, and over time have developed human illusions as interchangeable as their animal forms. It is well known that the Kitsune possess powerful illusionary abilities, creating falsifications of people, places, or objects that they are almost entirely indiscernible from the real thing. In fact, should you not be highly trained in the dispelling of illusions it is extremely likely that you would be incapable of understanding that something was not truly there. You would be able to touch and feel the illusion as true as it were reality, and because of this many Kitsune use this ability instead of obtaining genuinely substantial things. The more Kitsune that participate in an illusion the grander and more elaborate it can be, and a Kitsune den that hosts an entire family of the spirits has been known to exist in a manufactured pocket of a realm, within which could exist an entire kingdom with its own weather and population created entirely by the Kitsune.

This grand ability is trained and harnessed in every young Kitsune, but supposedly it is only truly mastered upon reaching one hundred years of age. Deciding what ‘mastered’ means however is almost entirely dependent upon the leader of the family, as it changes between each elder asked. The power of illusion is not the only power they possess; however, it is by far the one they are greatest known for. They can also utilize elemental magic based on the element of their domains, as well as possession.

The Kitsune themselves are a relatively small population, existing primarily within the human realm and the FarLands, regardless of their connection to the NeverNever. When interacting with a Kitsune it is best to remember that almost the entirety of their culture is built upon respect, and to treat a Kitsune with kindness would result in positive and equal exchange, while disrespecting or wronging one would create a powerful enemy. An attempt upon their soul would mean immediate and irrefutable betrayal, and would likely enrage the whole of a family regardless of the individual’s standing within it.

A ‘soul’ of a Kitsune is a physical sphere, often worn around the neck as a charm while in human form or kept safely in their tails or teeth while manifested as a fox. Since they are beings of spirit, their soul is extremely precious to them, as losing it would cost them their life or at the very least control of it. It is crucial to know that an attempt upon their soul is a critical insult from which you cannot recover. So long as these powerful spirits are treated with respect the Kitsune are relatively safe. Many young ones have been reported to play tricks with their powers of illusion, and should often be regarded with care. To be frank, such behavior is evident in all creatures, though the Kitsune have received a more universal blame for it. They are often viewed with distrust because of their abilities, but as with all beings the worthiness of a creature is left up to the individual and the noble Kitsune is no exception.

 Nino stared at the page of his textbook, running his index finger over the embedded print of the last two sentences. While the rest of the book looked old and worn in, the last sentiment was added in by hand, seemingly somewhat recently. It made sense to him, to be completely honest the ‘academic text’ had been painting them in a somewhat bad light, dwelling on their illusions perhaps longer than necessary, even going so far as to straight up say they should be ‘regarded with care’ and branded ‘relatively safe’. That sucked.

His mind turned again to what it must say about him…

He let the text close without much thought, his mind turning over itself toxically as he started to drag his fingernail across its spine, cutting long lines into it as he stared at nothing.

It was probably littered with what he could see on some of the faces of his classmates. Distrust, danger. Approach with caution… regard with care.  Part of him wondered if it would paint him as cursed, or if it would write him like an animal. Or something else entirely.

What did this book say about all of them? What parts were true? And what parts were written in by hand, new information that might redeem them…

His fingernails dug deeper.

“Nino?”

 He jumped, Carter jolting too from his sudden movement though he himself had not picked up on his owner’s change in mood. Instead, it was Marinette who had noticed, as she seemed to do again and again. When he turned to look at her she was smiling gently.

“Do you have everything you need? Like paper and stuff? I have extras.”

Nino hesitated, snapped out of his thoughts so quickly that he wasn’t able to immediately reply, but after a moment he said “Uh, yeah. Yeah I’ve got stuff. Thanks.”

“Pens and your books too right? They’re all kind of… old fashioned, but the literature one is actually kind of interesting!” Marinette smiled at him, picking up her own copy of the book as she referenced it. The witch glanced down at it briefly, flipping through its pages as she badgered aimlessly. “There’s actually a Fae poet that is recorded in here, I can’t remember the name for the life of me but it’s really nice! It was my favorite to work through in the class, I’d like to know what you think of it! Let me just find it-,”

Nino blinked once, watching a little confused as she quickly sorted through the textbook. It was a little abrupt, but before even a few moments had passed he was suddenly being prompted to read through a series of poems. He wasn’t really a poem guy, but Marinette seemed excited about it, or at the very least intent. She insisted he pay it his full attention, and it was about halfway through the first poem that he realized she was doing that on purpose.

She was keeping him busy, forcing his thoughts to focus on something else. She was making a quick habit of that, monitoring his emotional state and engaging him or distracting him when she needed to. She had done it three or so times just since he was introduced to her, and while part of him briefly wondered if it was in her own best interest to keep him calm and together he came to the conclusion fairly quickly that it was for his own benefit.

She was being nice, and he scolded himself a little that he kept failing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt here. She didn’t need to be working an angle or treating him like a threat, maybe she was just a sweet person trying to help out someone who was clearly going through a hard time.

That was… cool of her.

He was still ‘reading’ the poem when he heard the door open again (honestly he wasn’t absorbing much of it, apparently the bouncy flowery prose of poetry did not change much from world to world, and remained about as uninteresting), and though the noise did catch his attention it was Carter that made him look away from the book, because quite abruptly the Shepherd was tense.

“Ah, Adrien!” Ms. Bustier’s voice called out, actually relieved he had made it to class but also a little put out at just how late he was. “It’s nice to know you intended on joining us today.”

“I’m sorry!” the boy immediately responded, actually sliding forward a little through the door as he quickly closed it behind him. His words were quick and slammed together, his rushed excuse giving Nino a chance to look at him.

Adrien was saying something like “I know you told me to be early today-,” but Nino tuned him out slightly, a bit thrown off by how… normal he looked. Well not normal, no one in here was normal, but human.

Lots of people had a humanoid appearance, everybody in class did though Chloe’s glamor gave him the impression that maybe hers was just for show like Ms. B’s had been, but he looked TOTALLY human. Even Marinette and Alya still looked a bit off, Marinette because of her clothing mostly and Alya because of… something. He couldn’t quite place it, something in the way she watched people and moved and looked at him. Everybody had a gimmick though, like how Max looked kind of evil what with his lab coat and Rose had a Glinda Goodwitch Necromancer sort of vibe, but Adrien just looked like… a dude.

He was about as tall as him he guessed, white, thin, blonde, and personable looking with a pretty cool outfit that was still normal and not out of place. He had a perfect glowing smile with perfectly even teeth, bright green eyes that were human as could be, two legs, no tail and not even a pair of cat ears to sell the image. Seriously if he hadn’t been told implicitly that this dude was supposed to be a cat something he wouldn’t have known.

Honestly he was a little disappointed. He had been preparing for a big anthropomorphic cat but… well it was probably easier for his sanity that that wasn’t the case. It was a little refreshing that his imagination had actually overshot for once.

He was about ready to maybe rationalize that this wasn’t the guy who was supposed to sit next to him, when he became aware again of Carter, if only because he was slowly scrabbling forward without actually raising his paws.

Nino looked down to see for sure but Carter was definitely moving forward, his eyes totally trained on the new guy whose back was currently towards their desk.

‘Cat.’ Carter confirmed, absolutely no hesitation in the statement whatsoever. ‘There he is. I got him Nino.’

“You do not,” Nino whispered harshly, ducking quickly to grab his dog by the collar. He ignored Alya’s sharp snicker behind him and focused on Carter, pulling him backwards and towards his left side. “I told you no, if you even move you’re in big trouble.”

‘Cat, cat,’ Carter repeated, looking back at Nino as if he wasn’t fully grasping the severity of the situation. But, to the dog’s credit, he had not barked, but it was clearly a great test of will.

“Carter,” Nino whispered seriously, rushing now that Adrien looked like he was about to come and sit down, “if you bark or sniff at him or harass him at all you will be a bad dog, do you understand? A Bad Dog.”

…That got him.

Carter gave the perfect dog equivalent of a gasp, his muzzle parting and his focus broken from the ‘cat’ completely. He looked genuinely upset.

‘I am not a bad dog!’ Carter growled, the first truly audible sound he had made though it was quiet. ‘I’m a good boy! I’m always a good boy!’

“Then prove it,” Nino whispered, but he was forced to look away and sat up quickly, Adrien now breaking his conversation with their teacher and turning around.

The boy turned to face him completely for the first time, their eyes meeting immediately since he was sitting where Adrien was accustomed to sitting alone. At first his expression seemed open, surprised he was there already but receptive to it, but then his focus slid down and locked on the large, rigid German Shepherd that was trained on him explicitly.

Adrien stopped, body tense and eyes widening somewhat when he noticed the dog. Internally Nino was swearing, his anxiety rocketing now that he knew everyone was looking at them. He was trying to figure out a game plan of what to do if either Adrien freaked out or if Carter broke away from him, but even as he planned things he felt his dog huff in defiant annoyance. After only a beat of the cat staring him down Carter turned, looking up at Nino once to check that he was seeing just how much he didn’t care about the cat as he settled facing the wall, nose in the air and back towards the class. Because he didn’t care about the cat at all, because he was a good boy. And the whole class started laughing.

Alya laughed the loudest, Chloe grumbling somewhere in annoyance at ‘whats so funny?’ and Marinette sighing in sudden relief. Nino sighed in relief as well, relaxing instantly and managing to take the laugh good naturedly. Honestly he was just sort of glad the only dog anyone thought might be a problem was Carter… and for the thousandth time since the loyal canine had found him he was grateful that he was there.

He probably owed him an apology for implying that in any way he could be less than a perfect dog.

People where still giggling over how Carter seemed intent on ignoring Adrien’s existence when the boy himself sat down, Nino looking over with an apologetic smile already prepared. Up close he still looked normal to him, but now that he was right there he could see what Carter was getting at. Even if he looked human this dude for whatever reason smelled like a cat.

“Uh, hey,” Adrien said simply, a little embarrassed to have been caught visibly reacting to a dog like that. It seemed especially insensitive considering the guy sitting next to him now… but actually the comparison was probably even less cool. Man he was botching this. “Um, I’m Adrien, you’re Nino right?”

Nino hesitated, surprised that he already knew his name but taking his hand when he extended it. “Yeah, nice to meet you. You know my name?”

“Ms. Bustier caught me in one of our last classes,” Adrien explained, trying his best to smile and really wanting to make a good impression, feeling like he had already kind of screwed up. “I had already known there was a new student from the principal but once she decided you were sitting next to me she wanted to ask me to help you out. She mentioned Carter too, that’s his name right?” Adrien checked, suddenly unsure and rubbing nervously at the back of his head as he laughed a little. “So I’d be ready, still caught me off guard though, I’m sorry about that...”

“Oh, no you’re good!” Nino assured him quickly, glancing once at Carter and seeing that he was still pointed dutifully at the wall, having angled himself to have Adrien fully towards his back now that he was sitting. “Um, I should be apologizing I didn’t know anyone might not uh… like dogs. He’s good though I promise, he won’t bother you.”

“He’s fine!” Adrien countered back, looking past Nino at the Shepherd facing the wall. He was aware of Alya still giggling behind him and tried to ignore her, already more than enough embarrassed about it.

“Wait so,” Nino paused, “Ms. B wanted to ask you to… help me?” He asked it hesitantly, curious but also wanting to divert attention away from his dog for a second. Mostly though he was caught on the idea that maybe Ms. B didn’t have as much faith in him as she said she did… he cut into the leather of his book again nervously.

Adrien’s expression looked, once again, caught out, and he hurried to clarify. “Yeah like, show you around and stuff! That’s all I meant. Like um, give you my notes and things and introduce you to other people in class. I was supposed to be here first thing to do that but… yeah sorry,” he grinned sheepishly. “I slept in.”

“Oh, that’s no problem, don’t worry about it. Honestly uh… meeting everyone at once might have been a little much anyways.” Nino’s smile was a little sour then and he looked down, focusing on the desk. He still had Marinette’s borrowed literature book open to one of the dumb poems, so after a moment he turned to return in, handing it back and adding, “I’m still sort of… adjusting.”

“You’re doing great though,” Marinette chimed in, taking the book as well as the opening to join the conversation. She said it genuinely, smiling at him sweetly until he smiled a little too. “Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do if I was in your shoes, but you’re still dealing with all this anyways.”

“Well… I don’t have too much of a choice,” Nino muttered, and he could see Adrien frowning out of the corner of his eye, but his attention as diverted by Alya now.

“Maybe not, but dealing with it the best you can is a choice, and not one everyone would make. Don’t sell yourself short, you’re barely getting started.”

Nino was stunned into silence, trying to respond but failing to. Alya watching him unflinchingly, once again forcing him to be the first to look away.

He didn’t find the words to answer her before Ms. Bustier called the class to attention, asked to turn back in his seat and absorb the weirdly jarring image of a Cervitaur dressed business casual calmly stepping towards the center of the room. In this space though she was not out of place, that’s what was jarring.

The clatter of her hooves was muffled by the carpeting, her stance and expression exactly indicative of her profession and ability to teach. He felt a weird and anxious emotion bubble in his chest as she folded her hands across her stomach, the weight of it settled just above the invisible seam of her two halves, his teacher calm and looking over her students. All of her students.

Which at that moment, and all foreseeable moments… included him.

“We have waited long enough then!” Ms. Bustier joked with a smile, shooting Adrien a stern but mostly playful look that had the boy ducking his head and laughing nervously. Her gaze flickered to Nino, her smile softening before continuing to address her newly completed class. “It’s about time we got started for the day. But first, I wanted to properly introduce our newest student.”

Oh… crap. Crap.

Nino’s heartrate doubled, instantly incredibly anxious, but before he could properly panic about having to stand up and introduce himself Ms. Bustier was doing it for him, and he sighed in relief.

“This is Nino Lahiffe, a few of you have met him already but he will be with us for the remainder of the school year. I ask that you all find the time to introduce yourself at some point throughout the day, but without any more stalling it’s time we started our lessons. I hope you all remember the start of your discussion yesterday with Mr. Damocles, because we will be continuing right where you left off. Can anyone tell me what that is?”

There was a small collection of voices as a few of the students rushed to beat out the others with the right answer. Nino didn’t really pay attention to what it was, knowing full well that he was going to be wildly lost with them starting in the middle of pretty much anything.

Just like that… class was starting. It had a weird feeling of finality to it, once again. Every step he took now it felt like there was never any way to take it back, living every second like it was all in was… incredibly draining, but what Alya had said seemed true in an intimidating way.

For better or for worse, he was just getting started.

#tlp writes #tmitr #the monster in the room #thelastpilot writes #spooky ml au #chapter 8

[mrsbeef]

THIS IS INCREDIBLY LONG

AND FULL OF EGREGIOUS HYPERBOLE AND GENERALISATIONS. It is my attempt to write a paper on Chinese Communist cinema as a tumblr post so it feels less scary. If you’re interested in this sort of thing then I am concerned for you read on.

Content warning for violence, misogyny, Nazis, antisemitism, seemingly unavoidable gender binarism, sex, Chairman Mao, Hitler, Stalin, and Freud.

Behold the gateway to a bright Communist future!

Anyone heard of visual pleasure in cinema? Specifically the theory that Laura Mulvey was talking about? For anyone who needs context, Laura Mulvey’s theory is based on Freudian psychoanalysis, and it basically states that the spectator identifies with the male hero, and is always in a masculine position compared to the objectified women on screen, and gets a kind of sadistic pleasure from that power. And moreover, she says scenes of women bring the narrative screeching to a halt, because the cheesecake scenes of their fragmented and objectified bodies freeze the action so the audience can have those sweet, sweet phallic fantasies. For the purposes of argument, I’m lumping ‘torture porn’ of the Game of Thrones variety under ‘cheesecake’. Sick, I know, but we’re going to get into some sicker shit later.

Now this theory definitely has some problems, but let’s stick with it for the time being. We can see that parts of it manifest in totalitarian cinema. Let’s take the USSR under Stalin and Germany under Hitler as two examples. There’s a propaganda film from 1936 called The Party Card (партийный билет) where a good Communist party member has her party card stolen, and the audience gets to internally crow over her loss of power. This is most obvious in the scene of the disciplinary hearing, which our heroine Anna has to attend because she allowed someone to steal her card and demonstrated a lack of vigilance. If you look at the way this was filmed, it is so voyeuristic that you can almost sense the director or someone jacking off a bit; imagine all these important mostly male politicos all talking down to this one poor guilty cringing woman. This movie came out just before Stalin started the major purges, and it was intended to caution party members to keep their documents safe from the enemy at all times. And they got the message.

Meanwhile, in Nazi Germany (a horrible phrase, I know), the propaganda film Hitlerjunge Quex (1933) was casting the Nazis in a positive light by contrasting their bodily vigour and healthy lifestyles with the exaggerated degeneracy of the German Communists. Scenes of Communists drinking, smoking, gambling and canoodling with loose (probably Jewish) women were meant to make the collective monocle of German society pop off, at a time when the disenfranchised working class was still warming to the whole Nazi thing. And of course it’s loose Jewish women who are used to make this point; women with all the icky sex bits, so when you’re revolted by them you have your masculine spectatorial power reinforced (and on some level it can start to make you feel kind of okay with these women getting hurt or killed). Nazi ideology was pretty open about its misogyny; pure Aryan women gotta produce them master race babies yo. And arguably fascism begins with gender hierarchy (if you believe some authors). So the film makes sure to have a nice pure, sexless blonde girl (the kind Klaus Theweleit calls “the White woman”, as opposed to the Jewy Jezebel “Red woman”) for a contrast.

If you look at it this way, these examples of totalitarian cinema seem to be using structures of visual pleasure to produce a kind of revulsion mixed with sexual arousal, so that the audience will orient themselves properly towards the correct ideology, whatever that happens to be at the time. Karsten Witte argues that Nazi cinema goes a step further by trying to bleed the visual pleasure out of film so that the audience is left in perpetual frustration-- good for breeding violence, maybe. He’s specifically talking about revues, the Busby Berkeley-type ones with the kicking legs and crazy stage setups. Apparently Nazis were capable of making even that shit unexciting by making all the choreography monotonous and lifeless, and filming a huge wide shot to show the whole stage and some of the seats; it’s like ZE CAMERA VILL NEVER MOVE DOWNSTAGE ON PAIN OF DEATH.

Anyway, in all this discussion, doesn’t it seem like something’s missing from Mulvey’s theory? A couple things, actually. Why so binary? Why so essentialist and ahistorical? What happens to this theory outside of the West? Isn’t this theory based in capitalism? What about class differences? Where is the female spectator/the female hero?* This is my big problem with anything that has Freud’s name on it, but I’ll keep my personal loathing out of this post as far as possible. So far, all anyone’s been talking about with this visual pleasure thing is looking at sexy girls. 

So let’s try taking this visual pleasure thing and transplanting it to somewhere really different: COMMUNIST CHINA IN THE 60′S. Think about it! You’ve got a communist political system and collectivist culture, different standards and signifiers of beauty, and radically different forms of gender expression mixed up with class struggle, thanks to a government that officially came out and said “men and women are the same”. Of course that was complete bullshit in practice, but it was the ideal, and movies are all about ideal. Chinese Communist propaganda movies were good for teaching women how to be good socialists. And in contrast with stuff like Party Card, revolutionary Chinese films had a lot of female characters who were actually heroic. They were revolutionary soldiers and workers and peasant militiawomen, and they were ideal models for real women to emulate. This naturally means that revolutionary films were being made with a mixed gender audience in mind, and not just to appeal to a certain gender demographic. Of course in traditional Confucian culture women’s social position was lower than dirt (not accounting for class difference), but all that was supposed to be over now. Now women can be heroic revolutionaries too! They too can approach the sublime ideal of the hypermasculine, vigorous Communist fighter who makes history with his own hands! Not actually reach, though. Only approach. See, this view of gender equality took hypermasculinity as the standard everyone was meant to aspire to. So anything ‘feminine’-- like long hair, bright colours, or sentimentality-- became icky gross and bourgeois. Nobody wants to be a woman, ewww. Revolutionary films offered women and girls a way to fantasise about being that hero in a kind of utopia where family/marital obligations and culturally ingrained sexism didn’t exist, unlike irl. With women and men supposedly being equal (on men’s terms), there also was less room for overt titillating sexiness on the cinema screen, and audiences could derive strong visual pleasure based on class differentials rather than sexual ones (more on this later). Sexiness did sort of find its way back in sometimes, though. And not just through subversive watching either.

I can’t really speak for Nazi Germany or the USSR as those aren’t my specialities, but Chinese political culture seemed particularly receptive to the bleeding together of aesthetics and ideology. Ban Wang calls it “aestheticised politics”; it’s essentially a totalitarian wet dream. They can get inside your head and reorient your tastes and desires so that everything that is ideologically correct seems beautiful and everything that’s taboo is ugly. Imagine that the government could influence what you think is sexy :O (I mean, it probably does in some way already, but that’s off topic) The aesthetics of the revolutionary film could concentrate the spectators’ visual pleasure in a way that benefits the state. You can accomplish this with visual cues, camera tricks, etc. And so the Chinese government may have indirectly produced a generation of young men (and likely some women) who enjoyed beating off furiously to female guerrilla fighters in shorts.

Case in point: the 1971 filmed revolutionary ballet The Red Detachment of Women (《红色娘子军》). It’s well known for causing a flood of jizz sexual awakening for a good many young men in the Cultural Revolution. It was part of a canon of ‘model theatre’ works made for the purpose of exemplifying proper socialist aesthetics, in accordance with Mao’s weirdly well-formed ideas about exactly what those should look like. Plot-wise it’s a pretty standard revolutionary fable: peasant girl meets manly Communist Party official, evil and somewhat effeminate landlord is vanquished. Gotta love those gender dynamics getting mapped onto class antagonisms. But this is a ballet. Ballet is an inherently sensual art form, even if you take away all the tutus and rewrite all the romance scenes. And now that sensuality in ballet gets to blend with the martiality of the revolution! Excellent example: the classic pas de deux in romance scenes has now been repurposed (with added kung fu flavour!) for fight scenes! Can you say SEXY COMMUNISM???

It’s also an art form that relies on dance and music to appeal strongly to the emotions. So when they show us wonderful scenes of the army and the villagers getting along, we’re supposed to feel a warm fuzzy feeling of togetherness with our comrades. When they show us a heroic character being physically punished or martyred, we’re supposed to burn with class hatred, and maybe even get flashbacks to similar abuse we endured at the hands of the enemy. Maybe you might even be so full of rage you might form a mob with your friends and go yank the town ‘capitalist’ out of his home and beat him up. And when we see the inevitable triumph of Communist ideology, we’re supposed to overflow with excitement and hope about the future that we can build for ourselves! All this represents the pleasure people were intended to get out of watching these shows, and all the outcomes are very positive as far as the state is concerned. Noteworthy is that hardly ever are we as spectators put in a position of power over any heroic central female character. That’s not where the pleasure comes from. There is a scene where the peasant-turned-soldier Qionghua is reprimanded for seeking personal revenge, but it isn’t wank material; it’s just a stepping stone to her political maturation. She, like us in the audience, needs to learn that the collective comes first.

All this is well and good, but the famously prudish** Communist ideology also kind of shoots itself in the foot by using the ballet form. It necessitates form-fitting costumes, hence the famous shorts worn by the women soldiers.The moves they perform don’t help either. And neither does the camera, which moves through the complete depth of the stage and lets us get closer to the sweet leg-kicking action than we ever could in a theatre. Also the costuming contains little callbacks to traditional Chinese notions of sexy: check out Qionghua’s red suit (it ain’t just for Communism anymore), and the army uniforms themselves (crossdressing a la Mulan was considered hot). It’s been said that ballet takes place in a secret fourth dimension of the imagination, and some people’s imaginations*** were very fired up. There’s a reason performance stills from Red Detachment were so popular.

Basically the point here is that Chinese revolutionary films had a way different relationship to gender and politics than Western films. Maybe they were both just as illusory. But maybe there’s also something to be said for chasing your own fake fantasy as opposed to just being stuck being somebody else’s?****

* I’m using ‘female hero’ here because whenever these film people say ‘heroine’ they usually mean female romantic lead, and I am talking about something completely different.

** Sexy is fine only when we get to decide what you like.

*** In quite a few cases this would mean ‘genitals’.

**** This has to be the most unfocused piece of shit I’ve ever written.

#work #essay #research paper #red detachment of women #the party card #hitler youth quex #totalitarianism #cinema #ballet #gender #sexuality #communism #Chinese Communist Party #People's Republic of China #cultural revolution #laura mulvey #fuck you #get that psychoanalysis out of my face #film criticism #grad student life #writing anxiety #comments welcome #nobody is going to read this

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Mother Knows Best: The 13 Worst Mothers of Horror

The horror genre has explored a variety of themes, and often times the complexities, mothers face from conception through death. It’s an analytically heavy topic that can provoke the most fundamental of thoughts, draw out the most genius symbolism, and shape our beloved characters down to even the most minute detail.

Mothers’ Day is the one day out of the year we use as a time to celebrate the most wonderful of idols we have been given. If not for the nurturing care, strong, fertile bodies, and ongoing evolution of women all over the world humankind would cease to exist. The colorful flowers, corny cards, and midday brunches are our attempts at offering a ‘Thank You’ to the ones who raised us, biologically or not, as we’ll do this Sunday, the 13th.

With that, what the horror genre has done so obviously well is show audiences that motherhood might not be as rewarding as it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes motherhood is scary. Sometimes motherhood is not about laser-cut flower petals, warm hugs, and relaxing pedicures. Sometimes motherhood is a bitch. Horror shows us that the most horrifying realization we can come to terms with is that the ones who bring us into this world can easily take us out of it.

Below are the 13 Worst Mothers of Horror. Directly or not, these women prove that parenthood can be a real mother-you-know-what and they’re not here to deal with it.

  Margaret White in Carrie (1976)

    Our titular character, Carrie White, is a shy, quiet, high school oddball who is constantly the victim of her classmates’ taunts and pranks in the novel Carrie written by Stephen King and the film adaptation directed by Brian De Palma. Instead of finding solace when she returns home from school each day she is faced with the Christian-saturated hellfire at the hands of her crazed mother, Margaret White. A mother, especially a godly mother, should use moral and powerful guidance to build Carrie up, but instead she wields that iron fist – clutching a kitchen knife – and spirituality as a device to literally drive her only daughter straight into the ground. Whether she is locking Carrie in a prayer closet for hours or purposely keeping the truths about a normal menstrual cycle from her, Margaret White is the epitome of a hypocritical, overly religious, and everything but Christian mother. Always watch out for the extreme ‘bible thumpers’. I know what I’m talking about, I live in the south.

    Mommy in The People Under the Stairs (1991)

    One of my earliest memories of horror film imagery is straight out of Wes Craven’s campy The People Under the Stairs and it’s one of those snapshots that will never leave my mind. Alice is a young girl kept as a prisoner in her home by her hedonistic parents promptly named Daddy and Mommy. After Mommy, played by fan favorite character actress Wendy Robie, murders an intruder, Alice, clean and nicely dressed, slips and falls in an enormous puddle of his blood at the bottom of the stairs. It’s just one of those scenes that fueled my love for the genre. The contrast of the gore and the beautiful home surroundings is absolutely perfect. Mommy is equally unforgettable as both a character and a portrayal of some real parental evil that exists in the world. Alice, along with many other ‘children’, are isolated from the outside world, physically (and suggestively sexually) abused, and either neglected to the point of death or smothered, well, to the point of death. If Mommy isn’t scary enough for you, check out the documentary The Turpin 13: Family Secrets Exposed for a real, all too recent example of how a mother, and father, like this can torture their children for well over a decade without anyone knowing. The scariest part: this film was released in 1991, the Turpin children were found just this year.

    Rachel Keller in The Ring (2002)

    You know those silly ‘Keep Out of Reach of Children’ disclaimers you see on common, but obviously dangerous, household items? Someone, somewhere was stupid enough to leave a bottle of bleach out on the floor in easy access for their toddler to take that one fatal sip. Rachel Keller of Gore Verbiniski’s The Ring is that mom. After the incredibly strange death of her niece, Rachel comes into possession of a videotape haunted by the spirit of a little girl, Samara, that murders the viewer seven days after watching it. Rachel, of course, watches it and receives the foreboding call from Samara giving her the countdown. Does she destroy the tape or even make an attempt at it? No. Does she hide the tape from her young, curious son, Aiden? No. Does she at least rid the house of all VHS players and leave him to endure cable over dying a horrible death? No. What she does is casually leave the tape out allowing the precocious boy to view it alone dooming him to the same terrifying fate of all of Samara’s victims. Rachel attempts to put all the pieces together to rid her and her son of this curse, but do you think she would ask Aiden, who obviously has a sixth sense when it comes to Samara, a single question as to the girl’s vengeful motive? You guessed it. Nope. Way to go, Rachel.

  Mother in Mother’s Day (1980)

    Acts of murder, rape, and physical abuse should not be impressive to anyone, least of all your mother unless you are Ike or Addley of the cult classic, occasion-appropriate titled Mother’s Day. Mother played by Beatrice Pons, pretty much changes the entire trajectory of motherhood in this extremely campy 1980 film. She encourages her two sons to commit heinous acts against others with the same gusto and enthusiasm as a mom cheering her son on during a little league baseball game. Ike and Addley are basically human trash she has raised into adulthood and the worst part is that she is proud of her unique parenting skills and her sons. The more brutal their acts are, the higher the praise she gives them. Mother certainly has her own twisted spin on the whole positive reinforcement technique. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about this mother nor her revolting offspring. Although, I can’t help but wonder what B.F. Skinner’s thoughts would be on this type of parenting. Operant Conditioning at its best, right?

    Nola Carveth in The Brood (1979)

    One of the bitter pills we must digest as we age is that in ways obvious and subtle, we slowly become our parents. There is always a certain vicious circle that evolves when it comes to our parents, ourselves as parents, our children, them as parents, and so on that is natural and basically unstoppable. In David Cronenberg‘s body horror The Brood, Nola Carveth, played by Samantha Egger, learns just how truly vicious that circle can be. Nola is the product of an abusive mother herself and is being accused of abusing her own daughter, Candice, by her ex-husband causing her to seek therapy. The psychoplasmic methods (and possibly the unexplained discolored bumps she has growing on her arms) produce a handful of strange, dwarfish, creatures that extract revenge out on others based on Nola’s anger and psychic connection the litter has with her. Of all the mothers on the list, Nola isn’t exactly the worst as her story is really a metaphor for hereditary productivity, but we can’t let that be an excuse here. The creatures do attack Candice in the third act proving Nola has some resentment and animosity toward her daughter, proving her inner mentality as a mother is not exactly kosher. The inevitable circle spins on as we see Candice escape the attack fairly unscathed… except for some unusual discolored bumps on her arms.

    Erica Sayers in Black Swan (2010)

    If Dance Moms has taught us anything it’s that stage parents are the absolute worst. Living vicariously through your children is both selfish and utterly creepy. However, the subject of a stage parent is intriguing by an analytical standpoint and simultaneously horrifying to observe. Take Erica Sayers played by Barbara Hershey in Darren Aronofsky’s ballet horror Black Swan as an example. She is the mother to dedicated ballerina Nina, played fantastically by Natalie Portman, and she is about as manipulative and controlling as they come – if you can catch it. Mothers like Erica are masters at using words and seemingly kind gestures to guilt their children into loving them when they really should be running away from them. So much is suggested and hinted at in dialogue and setting to suggest Erica’s control over Nina and her domineering push forcing her to be obsessed with perfection, that if not payed attention to one might think Erica is caring and protective of Nina. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth. I mean, the way she rewards Nina with a cake knowing very well the girl won’t eat it and that she would shame her for it later if she did, then makes her feel guilty for not eating it, is enough to give anyone a bout of bulimia. Mothers like Erica appear perfect and act perfect, but that’s all it is: an act.

    Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest (1981)

    Speaking of horrible mothers in the entertainment industry…

One of my favorite notions to use is that real life is scarier than any film out there. Nothing could support that more than Joan Crawford and the exploitation of the abuse she inflicted on her two adoptive children throughout their whole lives. While Mommie Dearest is not exactly a horror film, the emotional and physical torment her children suffered under her is sadly the standard by which we measure bad mothers against. Faye Dunaway played the role so well she is almost synonymous with the notorious actress, minus the child abuse, and her image still comes to most of our minds when we think about terrible mothers. The woman was basically the queen of outrageous punishment for minor indiscretions that children tend to make. The accounts from those around her, including the hired help, co-workers, lovers, and her children, Christina and Christopher, are pure parental nightmare fuel. It’s hard to believe this is not a made-up genre story, but it did happen unfortunately, exaggerated or not. I still cringe at the thought of her cutting off Christina’s hair as a distrubing penance for a simple mistake. That wasn’t even the worst of it. Hair grows back. The mental psyche takes a bit longer to heal.  No wire hangers, kids.

    Marge Thompson in A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

    The mother of one of horror’s favorite final girls, Nancy Thompson, can be considered both a good mom and a bad mom depending on which one of her actions you’re observing. Marge, played by Ronee Blakely in Wes Craven’s A Nightmare on Elm Street, is part of the original cul-de-sac lynch mob of Elm Street that burn Fred Krueger alive after learning he is behind the series of child murders in town. While we understand the parents’ revenge on Krueger and would gladly light the wick on the molotov cocktail thrown into his warehouse, the nightmarish ongoing result of Krueger returning to murder the kids of Elm Street in their dreams for a number of films is more than likely not what the parents expected the outcome to be. Marge goes on to be a full blown alcoholic and mostly absent minded mother to Nancy. She continuously takes the easy way out by either ignoring the fact that this monster is hunting her daughter and her friends or she drinks reality away being of no help nor support. Our final girl has to maintain her gumption and find her own courage and strength from within to escape the razor-bladed grasp of Krueger all on her own while Marge remains in a pathetic liquor infused stupor. It’s almost a relief when she is pulled through that tiny front door window at the end of the film. Thanks for nothing, Marge! Saddle up for the long haul or leave it to the judicial system.

  Beverly Sutphin in Serial Mom (1994)

    Being a perfect homemaker in the suburbs can be absolute murder and that is exactly what Beverly Sutphin, played by Kathleen Turner, is driven to when those around her get in her way in the dark comedy Serial Mom. Though her bloodlust is born from good intentions (an instructor makes a rude comment about her son), Beverly goes on a spree murdering anyone one she deems as a threat or just a nuisance to her or her family. For the most part, I get it. I actually debated on including her in this list at all. Ultimately, I decided that while annoying, none of Beverly’s victims really deserved to die and her own family remarks, in the humorous way the film is crafted in, to remind themselves not to piss her off for fear of her going on a murderous rampage again. What good is a mother if everyone around her is afraid she’ll put an axe in their head? Beverly best take a chill pill, wash it down with a tumbler full of white wine, and come to terms with the fact that most of us have to deal with on a daily basis: you can’t go around murdering everyone that annoys you whenever you feel like it. That’s what Purge night is for.

    Norma Bates in Psycho (1960)

    Most times no matter how irritating or intrusive our mothers can be, deep down inside we love having them around us. Always. However, should you want your mother to stay with you as long as Norman Bates does you may want to seek some help. The famous slasher’s mother, Norma Bates, is a special case on this list as she never makes an actual living appearance in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. Her voice and actions are all manifested from her son Norman himself who, it is suggested and pretty obvious, is severely dependent on her in all aspects of life whether she is alive or deceased. Norma’s emotional antagonism and violence towards him and the women he encounters paints us a picture of how bad the woman must have been when she was alive, though that is always up for debate. Was she as awful as the voice coming from Norman is or is it something he’s made up himself? Regardless, the psychological haunting linger of Norma is enough to drive Norman into the most serious identity crisis resulting in murder and Norma completely taking over him, mind and body. Life lesson: Stay away from the mama’s boys. Believe me when I tell you: this specific relationship portrayal isn’t too far off from what those guys are truly like.

    MU-TH-UR 6000 in Alien (1979)

    Many would think the Alien Queen would be on this list, but I can hardly count her as a bad mom. If anything, the Queen is a great mom who uses all of her genetic instincts to grow and protect her young when a handful of human incubators make themselves available to her throughout the series. Natural selection is also a bitch.

The real bad mom here is the space ship Nostromo’s mainframe system MU-TH-UR 6000, referred to as ‘Mother‘. The crew relies on MU-TH-UR for information, protection, and most importantly, survival. It is one of many analytical elements in the Alien series that relates back to the theme of motherhood. However, while the crew sleeps and operates under the trusting care of MU-TH-UR, the system is monitoring them to relay details on their activity back to Weyland-Utani and is in cahoots with the highly untrustworthy AI, Ash, on carrying out Special Order 937: collect an alien xenomorph specimen and deliver it back to earth with the crew members being completely dispensable. It’s an unfortunate lesson the crew members learn, but don’t trust technology no matter how long it lets you sleep in its womb.

    Mother in Mother! (2017)

    If there is ever a film so overtly saturated in motherly symbolism, it’s Darren Aronofsky’s Mother! Jennifer Lawrence’s mother character is pure, wholesome, and nurturing. She is all of the things a mother, including that of ‘mother nature’ and ‘woman’ should be. However, when random intrusive guests begin showing up and inviting themselves in to wreak havoc on the beautiful home mother is creating for her narcissistic poet husband Him, and their unborn baby, mother remains so passive to the point that a full on world of war explodes tearing down the establishment from the inside out. She only puts her foot down and embraces her protective instincts when it is far too late for everyone. The fate of her baby is gruesomely tragic and results in mother literally destroying herself and her surroundings only to be born again anew in the name of love for Him. Like any strong mother archetype would destroy themselves for the weak man that betrayed her and caused the death of her firstborn? I think not. This is a pretty sad portrayal of actions not taken by a mother, a wife, and a woman. mother really should have destroyed Him. However, given the subtext of who and what these characters personify, we should be grateful that mother doesn’t really hold a grudge nor seek apocalyptic vengeance… yet.

    Rosemary in Rosemary’s Baby (1968)

    Similarly to mother, Rosemary Woodhouse of Roman Polanksi’s Rosemary’s Baby, adaptation of the novel written by Ira Levin, is another character you just want to grab by the shoulders and violently shake into sense. As beautiful, sweet, and delicate as Mia Farrow is in the iconic role of Rosemary, she is painfully dependent, weak, and totally naive. She is blindly trusting of her pushy neighbors and self absorbed actor husband, Guy (eye roll) all of which have made some deal with the devil and are part of the geriatric cult that worships him. Pregnant with her first child, unknowingly the antichrist, Rosemary falls ill many times, complains about threatening symptoms in her breathy voice, and takes advice from everyone but a trustworthy doctor who isn’t connected to the cult’s inner circle. Of course she isn’t aware of her husband’s involvement and the promises made to the underworld at her expense until it’s a trimester too late, but all of the suspicions and signs are there as plain as day for her to see. Thank goodness mothers and wives, women in general, have come a long way since the 60’s.

  So, kiss your mothers this Sunday and appreciate them for the wonderful women that they are, unless they are anything like the characters in this list because, well, they are the worst. If your mothers are anything like this lot, you might want to start running…

    The post Mother Knows Best: The 13 Worst Mothers of Horror appeared first on Nightmare on Film Street - Horror Movie Podcast, News and Reviews.

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