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eunsoyi · 4 years

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helloo. would it be possible for you to write a #1 fantasy prompt for kuroo please? ♡ congratulations by the way ^^

aaa finally a fantasy one !! thank you luvie <3

the brightest witch of her time

( hogwarts!au because harry potter is a fantasy novel you can’t say otherwise )

brightest witch of her time. kuroo tetsurou let out a scoff as he watched ravenclaw’s most famous and well-respected student scurry back and forth inside the library carrying a mountain of books. it’s not like him to actually hate a fellow student, especially someone in his year. but oh boy, do you get in his nerves.

to be fair, he did feel a little guilty for hating you without your knowledge. however, the thought of him being guilty with you as the reason made him weirdly angrier. he concluded that it was probably his superiority complex acting up. as a gryffindor, he did need to protect his pride as much as possible, and his competitiveness is obviously drilled down deep in his nature.

“you’re gonna poke a hole on her body. stop glaring.” kozume kenma, his best friend and also one of the students from gryffindor, reprimanded him in a hushed tone. tetsurou rolled his eyes. “oh i wish a hole would grow on her body.”

kenma sighed, closed the book he was reading and faced his friend with a scowl. “what did y/n even do to you?”

tetsurou pursed his lips and finally looked away from you. “i have no idea. she’s just annoying.” kenma then turned to get a glimpse of your busy little figure and gave a soft chuckle. “i don’t get it.”

“yeah, you never will.” tetsurou whined and forced himself to focus on his textbook about healing potions and whatnot. the thought of severus snape whacking his head for turning in a half-assed essay was enough to snap him back to reality and continue studying.

you and tetsurou used to have a civil relationship. with ravenclaw and gryffindor having an enormous amount of classes together during their first few years at hogwarts, it was only natural for the two houses to form unlikely friendships with each other. it was no doubt that ravenclaw students are exceptionally intelligent, they are known for that trait after all. that nature had caused an inevitable yet somewhat healthy competition between the two houses that used essays, homeworks, and exams as criteria to determine which house is actually better in academics. the punishment was the losing house gets to give their points to the other house.

surprisingly, the results varied a lot. gryffindor would take the lead for one subject, and then suddenly during the next one, ravenclaw would overtake them. the system was like that, and everyone loved some competition and it motivated them to work harder, especially tetsurou who was named as the smartest gryffindor of his year.

take note, smartest gryffindor. not smartest hogwarts student. not smartest wizard. just the most intelligent person in his house and more specifically, in his year.

you, despite the varying results of the ravenclaw versus gryffindor academic competition, were the only consistent thing in the said system. you always, always got the highest marks for essays, exams, and homework no matter what the subject. and it annoyed tetsurou. because no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many all-nighters he pulled, he was always nowhere near to beating you.

the annoyance bubbled into hatred once he started hearing your nickname: the brightest witch of your time. he was very much jealous of the fact that each and every educator in hogwarts acknowledged your skills. hell, even snape, head of the slytherin house, infamous for his unreasonable actions towards his students that are not from his house, had favored you because you were just that good. tetsurou then spent the following years just trying to compete with you (he even joined the quidditch team and got in as a seeker, but his interest quickly dissipated when he realized you weren’t even interested in playing quidditch).

despite being just one spot below you in academics, he still remained number one in terms of popularity, and oh boy did he take pride in that.

“hey, tetsu.” a chirpy girl from slytherin suddenly greeted him while he was chilling in front of the fireplace in the gryffindor common room.

“how did you get in here?” he smirked and reached out to plant a kiss on the girl, to which she giggled flirtatiously in response. tetsurou felt kenma roll his eyes beside him, but paid no attention to the pudding-haired boy and continued making out with the girl (whose name he doesn’t even remember).

“i have my ways.” she replied in a muffled and out-of-breath tone, showing a hint of exhaustion from tetsurou’s intense kiss.

“you’re naughty, ain’t ya?”

the two of them continued flirting until kenma suddenly spoke.

“oh? y/n.”

tetsurou’s head snapped towards kenma’s direction. “what about her?”

“why are you so worked up?” kenma narrowed his eyes as he gave the slytherin girl a disgusted expression. “she’s walking towards the forbidden forest.” he explained and pointed outside the window. and lo and behold, you were there, walking in the dark without any care in the world with a small light emitting from your wand.

“what?!” tetsurou was now standing up, dropping the girl sitting on his lap. she clicked her tongue and attempted to return to their original position, but failed because tetsurou suddenly dashed outside the common room.

“ugh, that bitch.” she mumbled under her breath, gritting her teeth.

“you know kuroo doesn’t even know you, right?” kenma told her, not even giving her a glance as he flipped through his book. the girl grunted in response and left, fuming.

tetsurou’s sweat was covering his field of vision, but he found himself running as fast as he can, not even thinking about what kind of punishment lies beyond him and you once the teachers find out you were out during the night.

he then found you on the entrance of the forest, your wand still emitting the same small light. he panted, putting his hands on his knees.

“oi, y/n! what the hell are you doing out here?” he yelled. you immediately turned around to face him, and he noticed you turned pale once you realized someone was there with you.

“none of your business, kuroo.” you snapped.

tetsurou felt his frustration bubble up because of your reply. “wow, rude much?”

“just leave me alone.”

“jeez, suit yourself.” tetsurou snapped back and turned to walk away. he walked for about five steps and when he turned around, you were suddenly gone. it’s as if you were air or something. “what the fuck..” he muttered. there was no sign of you anywhere. he composed himself and went to follow you inside the forbidden forest.

he took out his wand and muttered “lumos.” as he walked in a straight line, trying to find any sign of your presence. his wand lit up, but his hands were still shaking in nervousness. going into the forbidden forest was not allowed because the forest can literally kill you, and the all of the hogwarts students are aware of this fact, so why the hell is tetsurou risking his life looking for you?

he walked for about another ten minutes when he heard galloping. what the fuck, centaurs?! he frantically tried to remember any kind of offensive and defensive spells he learned in class and hid behind a tree, his heart rate increasing as the galloping sound became nearer and clearer.

“hey, hey, it’s okay. calm down.” he heard a sweet female voice say. he angled his position to get a glimpse of the person who owned the voice and let out a sigh of relief when he noticed that the voice came from you. his eyes widened as you reached your hand to touch the most beautiful, most peaceful, most elegant creature tetsurou has ever seen. its skin was pure gold, and its hair was very, very soft like clouds. the creature emitted an angelic yet somehow intense aura which spiked his curiousity even further.

he walked towards you and the creature quietly, despite trying his hardest not to make his presence known. you snapped, still not moving your hand away from the creature and turned around with your wand pointing out towards tetsurou. you cursed under your breath and let out a sigh of relief when the light of your wand flashed into his familiar face. you did not acknowledge his presence any further and continued petting the horse-like animal, but tetsurou didn’t care. he reached out his hand as well and much to his happiness, the creature did not move away.

“what are you?” he found himself asking the creature, of course, it did not respond. it was worth a try, he thought, chuckling to himself. he heard you giggle slightly when you heard his question. “it’s a unicorn.” you answered. “this one’s a baby, though. i wonder where his parents are.”

“where’s the horn?” he asked once more, this time looking at you.

“like i said, it’s a baby.”

he wondered how you knew about that information, but shrugged it off after realizing you are the most intelligent student in hogwarts. “you could get in trouble for this.” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. you scowled, still not meeting his eyes. “no shit, sherlock. it’s called the forbidden forest for a reason.”

he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “i’m just saying. jeez, why are you here anyway?” he asked in a rhetoric manner. the two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, admiring the golden unicorn, before you spoke again.

“i go here because i want to see them for myself.” you said with a serious expression. tetsurou was surprised because you actually answered his question, but remained silent as a cue for you to continue. “it’s fun learning about a few of them in class and all, but i want to see the real ones. the dangerous ones. the creatures we’re not allowed to see. i want to learn.”

tetsurou was astonished. for the first time since he met you, he understood why people were calling you the brightest witch of your time. it wasn’t just about your memorization skills or your talents in uttering spells and making potions, it was also your hunger for new information. your need to learn about the unknown, about the things hogwarts had purposely left out in its curriculum. he looked down, a pang of guilt striking through his chest as he remembered what malicious things he had said, thought, and felt about you. tetsurou was so goddamn wrong about you, and he hated that. a part of him wished you were just the annoying ravenclaw he always knew, but it was refreshing to know that in some way, you were more than that.

he sighed, and as he did, he finally caught your attention and you looked up at him. “what?” you narrowed your eyes.

“just..” he paused. “the next time you come here, tell me, okay?”

you gave him a suspicious look. “why? you’re not going to tell on me? you know telling someone would cost ravenclaw a lot of points, right? and gryffindor would finally win house cup?” you asked, not trusting him one bit.

“i wanna learn more.” he simply said. “and being a snitch is petty. i’d rather beat you fair and square.”

you didn’t answer but instead just laughed in response. the two of stayed there for a good five minutes until finally returning back to the dorms. before the two of you parted ways, you stopped in your tracks and faced him once more.

“meet me there thirty minutes after dinner everyday.” you just said and ran off to your own common room. he just stood there, shocked at what you just did. when he came back to his senses, he smiled to himself. with finally having something to look forward to for the first time in years, he walked back to his room with a spring in his step.

“you look chipper.” kenma said as tetsurou finally reached his dorm room.

“do you know that a baby unicorn’s skin is gold?” he asked, grinning.

“i did not know that.” kenma replied rather nonchalantly.

“yeah, me neither.”

this took a long time to finish bc i can’t remember jack shit about harry potter but i wanted to push the gryffindor!kuroo agenda so much. hope you liked this! requests for 100-follower special is still open. see this for more info!

#kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo headcanons #kuroo scenarios #kuroo imagines #kuroo hcs #kuroo oneshot #haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu au #harry potter au

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heartfeltheart · 4 years

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Alchemy: Magic Vs. Science

Chapters: 11/25 Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Harry Potter Rating: T Relationships: Edward/Winry, Lan Fan/Ling, and May/Alphonse. Primary Characters: Edward Elric, Severus Snape Additional Tags: Crossover, Teacher!Edward, BrOtp Edward/Severus. Sassy beyond measure. Series: Part 1 of 9. Summary: Magic and Science, are they the same or are they completely different? It just takes one person to point out all up and downs. Along with breaking the stereotypes that come up with being a wizard, alchemist and most of all being human. Thank you, @amynchan! D/C: I do not own Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist. Discord: La Red(Mesh Mash of… stuff.): https://discord.gg/KYjmVAb Alchemy Series: https://discord.gg/DejEYNJ

“English and Edward’s accented voice.” “Amestrian or another foreign language.” “Written notes.” ‘Thoughts.’ First Name: Informal Last Name: Formal (Or used to annoy others)

"Nope."

"Nope.."

"Nope..."

"Nope...."

"Nope....."

"...Ac...nope."

Edward sat behind his desk in his classroom, looking through all the exams to see who has what it takes to learn Alchemy. So far well over half of the students that took the exam, have failed the exam. The main reason is the lack of common sense and second reason has to do with their reason for wanting to learn Alchemy. Along with that, he wasn't even grading them excessively. Even then, the vast majority of the students that took the test are complete and utter idiots that lack common sense.

Grumbling under his breath at the lack of potential of magical students, Edward continued grading ignoring everything around him. He did not even see or even sense that Xerxes had swooped into the classroom. Xerxes dropped a letter on top of Edward's desk and landed on a wooden perch that was now placed on the corner of the Alchemy's teacher desk. The tiny owl looked at Edward to see him not paying attention to her.

"Hoot."

No reaction from the Golden Blonde.

"Hoot!" Xerxes hooted louder, but still no reaction. Almost as if grumbling, Xerxes jumped off her perch and waddled around the table. She now facing Edward and still nothing, she glanced down and saw her human's attention is completely entrapped on a piece paper. The wheels in her mind started to spin rapidly before a sneaky hoot escaped her beak. That sneaky hoot did caught Edward's attention, it actually sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes narrowed down at Xerxes who was now looking at him innocently.

"Hoot."

"...What?" Edward deadpanned, without saying anything Xerxes grabbed the exam he was grading and flew off with it. "Hey! Give that back!"

Xerxes let out a muffled out hoot while flying across the classroom with the exam in her beck.

"At least take one of the failed ones, that one is actually a good one!" Edward yelled after Xerxes, chasing around the owl around his classroom.

"Hoot!"

"Don't curse at me!"

"Hoot!"

"Shut up!"

After what seemed like forever, Edward finally managed to retrieve the exam back in one ripped up piece. Edward went back to his desk to continue on grading. When he sat back down, it was when he saw the letter. He immediately picked up the letter and ripped it open. The contents of the letter made him furrow his eyebrow deep in thought.

'I knew using owls for mail was a bad idea.' Edward thought, rereading the letter. His brother had sent him the letter in code and it only took him a moment to crack the code. Now he has to figure something out to get someone over to Xing to retrieve the items fro him. Then a memory popped back into his mind, remembering the time that Severus had trunk everything into something so small. Something about a charm... Filius does charms... Now he has to talk to the old headmaster about this. 'Great...Now I have to talk to that old goa-"

Rip~

"....I swear if that was another exam..."

"Hoot!"

"Dammit, Xerxes!"

-.-

Mustang rubbed his forehead in an attempt to ward off an upcoming headache. Weirdly enough, the upcoming headache wasn't caused by paperwork or Elric induced. The main origin of this headache is starting at the back of his eyes and that eerily sadistic laugh keeps ringing in the back of his head. Said laugh keeps ringing in his mind every time... Truth... finds something he does, amusing. The pain will start up at the back of his eyes then slowly cause his vision to blur and the pain becomes worse. This all started when he regains his vision with the philosopher stone. Mustang swore this was part of the deal, the deal that he had done to see Truth. A headache will suddenly stop in exactly 16 minutes then everything will be back to normal. It was a consistent cycle that will happen at random times. It was just a small price to pay for what had occurred to get him in that position.

Mustang let out an irritated sigh, this headache would not compare to the ones that will come about when he goes out to look for Elric. Too much was said in the recent letter and things needed to be cleared up before anything could proceed on their own end.

-.-

"You have a younger brother?"

"Does he also do alchemy?"

Elric stood in Dumbledore's office, he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes and walk out of there. He had just informed the Headmaster and all of the respective Heads, to his current problem. It appeared the most of them are more interested in his brother than anything else. After all, as they stated, Elric hardly talked about his home life unless it had to do with his Alchemy training. Now they know the Golden Blonde has a younger brother who also knows Alchemy and is just as competent as himself. The only one that seemed to like that news is Dumbledore, much to Elric's irritation.

"And...where is your brother, at this moment?"

Elric shot Snape a grateful look at the change of subject. "Xing. He headed out East vile I came to the vest of our home country. Al is... staying with a neutral friend of ours."

"Xing?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes seemed to dull momentarily taking in the name of the country. The country doesn't have a magical government, which caused many witches and wizards to not go to Xing. The reason behind that had to do with a past emperor making a point to not have a Wizarding Government...but that's a whole other story. "Your brother went to Xing to learn Alchemy?"

"No." Elric deadpanned. "He went to Xing to learn Alkahestry."

Elric didn't bother to answer any questions that were thrown his way about Alkahestry. For one, he only knew tidbits about it and the other reason is that the only piece of information he would give for now. It was enough information to get them all to help him magically without exactly breaking any laws per se. "I have informed my brother of my vereabouts."

"You told him about us? The Wizarding World?" McGonagall eyes nearly popped out of her head, a look of complete of disbelief.

"My brother is also an alchemist, just like I am...only different..." Elric muttered the last part under his breath. "Dere are several different types of alchemists in Xing, it is the norm there. Magic...I have to talk to that idiotic Emperor about that...Al mentioned something about dat..."

Everyone in the room listened to Elric mumble under his breath about how annoying the Emperor of Xing is. This made them wonder about the country and the supposed man who is in charge of the said country. Now if Elric did personally know the Emperor of another county, a country where magic isn't exactly practiced in from everyone's accounts, this could be a huge opportunity. However...this means of getting the Ministry involved...

"I just need someone to go over dere and retrieve the items my brother had gathered for my classes..." Elric stated, he needed to go back and finish grading the exams, set a schedule for his classes and creating an outline of what he needed to teach his students. The last part will take a while seeing as he needed to start from scratch for many of the students.

"How do you know if Magic will work there?" Sprout asked.

"It should...I think...That's vat Alphonse told me."

-.-

"Yeah, Magic is known but not really talked about..." Ling responded to Alphonse questions about the so-called Magical World. He, Alphonse, Mei and Lan Fan were sitting around a table in a private room eating lunch. "Superstitions and all that. Why do you ask?"

"...It's about big brother..." Alphonse laughed nervously.

Ling glanced over at Alphonse over his cup of tea, he began to grin and leaned dangerously close to him. "What did he do? Is he in trouble again? Hm? Tell me! Tell me!"

Lan Fan resisted the urge to face-palm or to forcibly stop, but she felt that will push the boundaries as it is. The Elders are already thinking of every possible way of getting rid of her after they found out Ling had made it a point; she wasn't leaving his side any time soon. "My Lord..."

"What? I know you're curious too!" Ling whined childishly.

Alphonse used that moment of distraction to scoot away. He couldn't help but chuckle seeing Ling and Lan Fan 'arguing'. It was more like Lan Fan saying no to everything that Ling wanted to do and not allowing him any leeway whatsoever.

"How much longer do you believe Ling will finally convince Lan Fan to allow him to court her officially?" Mei leaned up to whisper to Alphonse.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Ling managed to pull a fast one over her head." Alphonse whispered back.

"Oi! What are you two whispering about?"

Alphonse and Mei turned to see that Ling was attempting to put his arms around Lan Fan who had her hand on his face pushing him away from her. Ling was waving his arms around while Lan Fan face began to turn red in embarrassment. Alphonse inwardly sighed before he directed Ling's attention towards him to save Lan Fan. "Edward...became a teacher."

Pause...Complete Silence...Fits of laughter soon followed and Alphonse turned in embarrassment. "It's true! He became a teacher at uh..."

"Magical school?" Ling provided after his fit of laughter. "Has he killed anyone yet?"

"Surprisingly, no." Alphonse confessed with a nervous laugh. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his head, what he needed to say needed to be said with a clear mind. "How..uh...Do you see magic as? How does it work here? Brother said that magic is kept in secret from people who are not capable of doing magic."

"Ah...time for a history listen to my dear future brother-in-law!" Ling swung an arm around Alphonse's shoulders. He ignored Mei's squeak out in protest and Alphonse couldn't pronounce a single word due to embarrassment. "One my our maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaany predecessors, made sure to get rid of magic in favor of Alkahestry. Since then not many magic users came here due to..." Ling coughed into his hand saying what his predecessor did to any uprising of a magical community in Xing. It made Alphonse pale considerably at the bloody history and how nonchalant Ling is about it. "For that reason, any sort of magic was never seen or used here. But that was then, now is now. What does that moron want anyway?"

Alphonse began to cry internally, spilling his guts about everything Edward had told him. Even if he kept tight-lipped, Ling will find a way to get the information he wanted. The last thing he wanted to do is wake up tied up in Mei's room. That wasn't even the worse part of that story...

-.-

"Are you going to get your government involved?" Edward asked Severus over several piles of papers.

"Dumbledore is currently contacting the Ministry as we speak. Since we are dealing not only with your home country's government, we now are going to deal with one that previously persecuted Witches and Wizards..." Severus deadpanned; he scanned through exams that Edward had already graded. Out of all the seventy-five students that took the exam, only twenty-five had passed. Eight of them are Slytherins. He expected that happened, if anything, he takes in pride with that fact. "However...Considering that you both are the sons of Von Hohenheim a highly acclaimed alchemist..."

"Bah...Vat does he have to do with dis?" Edward grumbled under his breath, he grabbed a failed exam and threw it across the room.

"Alchemy is an old art that is not seen anywhere...and the Ministry has been trying to get in contact with Xing for ages..."

"...Ugh...Figures." Edward rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I apologize for getting you into this."

"I have a feeling this is only the beginning..."

-.-

"....He knows people in Bing?"

"It's Xing and yes, Mr. Edward Elric had personal connections people with high connections there." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he everything fell into place. The Wizarding Government are of course furious at the fact Elric had told his brother about the information. However, considering the fact he is connected with a country that has no magic connection and another that they have been trying to put a foot in... It opens many doors.

-.-

Alphonse ripped open a letter from his brother with Xerxes on top of his head. Mei standing next to her with Xiao-Mei on top of her own head, Ling sitting on a large embroidered pillow surrounded by food while Lan Fan is hidden somewhere in the room.

"What does it say, Al?" Ling called out, he reached over and picked up a large slice of watermelon.

"...One of Edward's friend's friends is coming tomorrow to retrieve the items." Alphonse stated once he decoded the letter.

"Is Eddy Boy coming?" Ling asked out another question.

"No...He has work to do. Who's coming here is..."

-.-

"You are not going, I am afraid you might kill the Emperor the first moment you will get..."

Tag List Below:

Permanent Tag List: @runestarchild @princesskitomi @fanfictionpromptsblog @souleateralicestein @vixen-uchiha @okami-knight @legendaryneckjudgestudent @weird-homosapien @justafanwarrior @vivilakitty @ravennightingaleandavatempus @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @moonwatcher04 @darkshadowguardian @two-faced-biatch @kris-pines04 @mewwitch @edwardhatori @kuroko26 @tall-and-angry @bloody-no-kissu @crazylittlemunchkin @tbehartoo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @melicmusicmagic

#Alchemy Series #Magic vs Science #Au #Crossover #HP #FMA #HP/FMA #Fanfic #chapter 11

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clarencewardartlibrary · 5 years

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Black Creative Fire: Edmonia Lewis and Neoclassicism

Chicago, 1987. The Forest Park Historical Society is perplexed by a curious-looking woman made of marble. Beneath the chipping and grease is a woman lying in a tremendous chair with two sphinx heads on the side. Her body is seated calmly, but her face is writhing in pain from what seems to be a bite from a small snake in her right hand. The Society is stunned by the beauty, deep sadness, and mourning of the marble woman, but have no idea where she came from. The only clue to her origins is an inscription on her side:

E. LEWIS ROMA

More than a century before, in 1876, The United States of America is celebrating its centennial anniversary. Thus, in Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, a 2,000+ acre urban landscape sprawling with trees, tents, and buildings of various designs, sizes, and colors is the site of the first World’s Fair: The Centennial Exposition. The U.S. Congress has sent ships to various American artists in order for them to send their work. Across the Atlantic Ocean, in Rome, Black American and Chippewa artist Mary Edmonia Lewis prepares a piece to challenge popular white sculptor William Westmore Story’s Cleopatra.

Story’s Cleopatra was sculpted in the popular neoclassical style of the time, which emphasized representing ancient subjects (such as figures from Greek and Roman literature, ancient history, and the Bible) as icons of magnificent regality and nobility. Thus, realism and natural emotions and expressions were frowned upon. This resulted in Story’s Cleopatra:

As she muses over her husband’s suicide and prepares for her own as the story goes, she suffers unmoved and emotionless, known then as “noble sufferring” or “classic impassivity.” While the statue was definitely up to date with the standard, Edmonia Lewis had a different idea in mind. Lewis set out to complete her own version of Cleopatra, but something that expressed her voice outside of the norm.

As waves of guests walked past the sculptures at the exposition, they could not help but notice the oddness of Lewis’ newest sculpture: The Death of Cleopatra. To those steeped in the artistic trend of neoclassicism, Lewis’ sculpture must have seemed incredibly strange. The “noble suffering” and harshness of Story’s Cleopatra was gone. Instead, Lewis’ The Death of Cleopatra artfully portrayed the deceased queen’s vulnerability in death. Her face was slightly clenched in pain, yet she sat straight up in what seemed like an acceptance of her death. It almost looked as if, after letting the small snake poison her as the story goes after hearing the news of her lover/brother’s death, she lay back and let the venom quickly take her life. As one artist/critic, Walter J. Clark, put it, “the effects of death are represented with such skill as to be absolutely repellent” (Bearden 74). Also, Lewis strayed from portraying Cleopatra as Egyptian, as Story had done. Instead, she opted to give Cleopatra Macedonian Greek features, which was more historically accurate. Lewis had clearly communicated her interest in art that more closely reflected reality.

However, due to the virulent racism in the art world and throughout America, “absolutely repellent” was the most widely circulated comment about the piece. It was difficult enough being a Black Chippewa woman artist competing in a predominantly white art world, but now Edmonia Lewis had placed herself outside the standard, regardless of The Death of Cleopatra’s “naturalness and…gracefulness of the lines” as J.S. Ingram wrote. Even he could not help but say, “the classic standard has been departed from…” (74). William J. Clark, despite his praise of the piece’s originality, still stated, “Apart from all questions of taste, the striking qualities of the work are undeniable…” Edmonia Lewis’ The Death of Cleopatra was so counter to the norm that audiences were not sure how to receive it as an artistic piece. It seems, ultimately, because of Edmonia Lewis’ Blackness and her willingness to challenge the mass standard, The Death of Cleopatra was forgotten for more than a century. After its controversial debut, The Death of Cleopatra was stored in Chicago and then went missing, not being discovered by an art museum until more than a century later when it was sold by the Forest Park Historical Society. However, Cleopatra by William Westmore Story was bought by art collector and co-founder of The Metropolitan Museum of Art John Taylor Johnston not too long after the exposition. This is due in large part to racism, but one particular tool of racism used that continues to be used today is that of canons such as “neoclassicism.”

Worldwide trends such as neoclassicism define that which is “good art” and “strange art.” Lewis was caught in the middle. While being a sculptor in the 19th century meant automatic proximity to “neoclassicism,” she also had her own voice as one of the only Black Native American women sculptors in America. This is especially hard on Black artists. Had she been a white woman, might The Death of Cleopatra been praised as a cutting-edge piece? The outright invisibility of her work is a testament to the racist legacy not only of America, but of the American art world. Surprisingly, whether she knew it or not, Edmonia Lewis was on the cusp of a transition, as the centennial marked the decline of the neoclassical era. She was ahead of her time. She challenged the canon by creating sculptures that tell stories of human emotion and vulnerability with classical subjects rather than adhering to romanticization and “classic impassivity.” Thus, subjects in her art are distinct and innovative. Today, The Death of Cleopatra lives, professionally restored, in the Smithsonian American Art Museum. It’s a bittersweet victory nearly a century later, as the words and names: “modernism, classicism, postmodernism, etc.” still define “good art” from “bad art” in the public perception.

To read more, check out these books in the art library:

A History of African-American Artists : from 1792 to the Present / Romare Bearden & Harry Henderson [N6538.N5 B38 1993]

Edmonia Lewis : Wildfire in Marble / by Rinna Evelyn Wolfe [NB237.L487 W66 1998 ]

#blackness #blues #edmonialewis #african-american #romare bearden

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mothermaidenclone-blog · 6 years

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Rampage or Rock, Ape, Lizard...and a Really Big Wolf

Well, Rampage was the most fun I’ve had at the cinema in a long time. This could be thanks, in part, to having absolutely zero expectations, but I have to give credit where credit’s due, Rampage was just a really good laugh. It was unashamedly a stupid film, but didn’t - for the most part - fall prey to the many sexist tropes that unfortunately seem to come with B-movies.

*Rampage Spoilers Follow*

Although Rampage is basically about big animals smashing stuff, with a sub-plot of Davis Okoye (Dwayne Johnson) and a massive gorilla being bros, there was a female lead. Dr. Kate Caldwell (Naomie Harris) features as a capable scientist and relentless investigator, used as a scapegoat in a vast corporate conspiracy, who is determined to uncover the truth, right the wrongs that her research has been used for and clear her name. It is always wonderful to see a talented black actress take the lead in anything, especially in the genre of monster movies, which is usually dominated by swooning blonds. In alarming and spectacular news, at no point did her shirt become tactically torn - despite Kate surviving a helicopter crash - and she doesn’t snog the male lead at the end! Woohoo! Kate is introduced in a way that I feel is usually reserved for male characters; she is someone who’s fallen on hard times and is struggling to get her life back together. So, when we meet her, she is woken up late by a phone call, stumbles out of bed, throws some clothes over the underwear she was sleeping in and drinks something out of a cup that was just lying around. Whilst this is obviously not a positive portrayal of a woman, it could be a realistic one, and it’s always interesting to see female characters being given the opportunity to display stereotypically male behaviours. People aren’t straightforward and we don’t all react the same way to problems. At least it makes a difference from women being shown watching sad romance movies and eating ice cream out of the tub as their coping mechanism. Also, Kate is given plenty of time to showcase her many talents and positive attributes as the film progresses.

One of her great traits is that she continually calls Davis out on his shit. Firstly, when he and government agent Harvey Russell (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) square up for a round of macho intimidation, she interjects, “Let’s all take a breath…Or we can all get in each other’s faces and see who’s the toughest.” In addition, when Davis describes his ludicrous plan to fly a helicopter down a collapsing building as, “We just need to get enough lift to stay on top of the building as it falls, you know, just like riding an avalanche,” Kate replies with the only sane response, which is, “No, I don’t know!” There’s no implicit, doe-eyed trust in Davis’ machismo methods and madcap schemes, all of that has to be earned.

As well as an abundance of common sense, Kate also displays a number of practical skills, such as using her brain - not just brute strength - to smash a window without hurting anyone and pulling off some impressive hacking, even if it is very Hollywood silly. Therefore, Kate acts as a good counterpoint to Davis’ brawn and emotional behaviour as far as animals are concerned; she is an intelligent and rational scientist, as well as an exceedingly sensible and pragmatic human being.

Whilst Kate has to share the limelight with Davis as the hero, the antagonist of Rampage was undoubtedly a woman. Claire Wyden (Malin Åkerman) was a superb B-movie villain and mastermind. Whilst culpability was technically divided with her brother Brett (Jake Lacy), he was portrayed as an almost Shakespearian fool; comically sweating and stress eating pop tarts - another example of supposedly traditional coping mechanisms being gender swapped. Claire was two-dimensionally evil - the first thing we hear her say is, “Either you come home with my research, or you don’t come home at all,” to an astronaut on an exploding space station. Usually, this would be a bone of contention for me, but this is a B-movie, baddies aren’t supposed to be complex. I think it’s enough of a victory that she is the vastly more competent sibling by a million miles, the Brain to her brother’s Pinky if you will. Claire remains cool, collected and in control while Brett falls apart. Naturally, she doesn’t survive this - Rampage is a monster movie after all, of course she is gobbled up by a giant gorilla, what else did you expect? The factor to consider when weighing up sexism is if it’s something that only affects one gender, and in this case, the answer is no. Brett is also subjected to a gruesome comedy death; his is in fact much more visceral, he is squashed flat in a bloody mess by falling debris. So, in the eyes of Rampage at least, characters seem to be judged by their deeds, not their gender.

Two minor named female characters remain; the first is the aforementioned astronaut, Dr. Kerry Atkins (Marley Shelton). Whilst we only briefly see her before her escape pod explodes in the vacuum of space, she shows great courage and willingness to endanger herself for a greater cause. For someone who’s just a device to get some canisters to land on a bunch of animals, she is shown to be very strong in her short time on screen, it’s a shame she was killed for such an arbitrary plot point.

The second background female character is Amy (Breanne Hill), a colleague or possibly student of Davis. Amy is a bit more of a dilemma, as she is portrayed as much more capable and calm in the face of danger than her male counterpart, Connor (Jack Quaid). However, she does flirt in a really gross way with Davis, pretty much throwing herself at him and saying that she wants to learn about “submission techniques.” On the other hand, Connor is also portrayed as a bit of a reprehensible idiot, making up adventure stories to impress Amy and coming out with some fairly offensive white saviour bullshit. It could be that both of these characters simply serve to make Davis look like an all-round wonderfully good person, but a woman offering herself up to him sexually is always going to come off as creepy and seems unnecessary.

Overall, most of the women in this dumb movie are surprisingly confident and capable. They may play up to stereotypes here and there, but they’re character based ones - such as pragmatic scientist and megalomaniacal villain - rather than ones involving gender. Mostly, it was just really fun to have a guilt free laugh at a silly B-movie without having to bludgeon the bit of my brain that thinks about the representation of women into silence.

And now for some asides:

When Dwayne Johnson choked that guy out he says, “That’s a big arm, don’t fight it, sleepy time.” I really hope he talks about his body like that in real life.

Also he has like five had signals that communicate the whole of the English language? Amazing.

I really related to that guy saying, “I’ve started using vegan deodorant, I smell like guacamole.” I just had to put some vegan shampoo in the bin because it made me retch, please make things that smell nice and aren’t evil!

#rampage #monster movie #b movie #film review #movie review #dwayne johnson #naomie harris #jeffrey dean morgan #malin Åkerman #jake lacy #marley shelton #breanne hill #jack quaid #sci-fi #scifi #science fiction #feminism #cw: language

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thewritinglist · 5 years

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Albums of the “Year”

It’s very limiting to list my favourite albums released in the last twelve months, because years are an arbitrary concept, invented by humanity, and I also struggle to get away from my comfort zone of a few bands I’ve obsessively listened to and mentally catalogued. So, here is my top ten albums of 2018. They’re not necessarily from 2018, but they defined my year.

10. After Laughter by Paramore

For a long while, Paramore existed in my cultural awareness as one song, and a post on this very site about how Hayley Williams once caused a tour to be cancelled by getting her teenage self grounded.

That’s an unfair assessment.

The one song was Still Into You, passed on as part of a mixtape made by a dear friend to celebrate my first anniversary with my girlfriend. But after hearing Fake Happy on the radio at my former place of work (I didn’t love The Co-Op, but I have to hand it to their DJs and their fine taste), I had to google some lyrics to find it. The twelve songs tell an often deceptively sad story underneath the jangling guitars and synths that throw you and Paramore back together to the eighties. I listen to the music for the lyrics, and Williams really excels in adding sadness in the tone and not as something yelled.

Best song - Hard Times.

2017 - Fuelled by Ramen - Pop rock

9. Silver Dollar Moment by The Orielles

I discovered the next two bands by a moment of delightful chance, when indie band Little Comets opened their twitter account to female fans on International Women’s Day, and one recommended these two.

Opening track Mango really nicely sets the scene for forty-five minutes of dreamily delivered indie rock, especially in Esmé Dee Hand-Halford’s vocals and bass. It’s the sort of music that makes me want to close my eyes and gently drift my head from side to side, which is why I have a soft rule to listen to it mostly in the comfort of a closed bedroom. Labelling anything indie gives an impression of competent but basic guitar/bass/drums, but The Orielles do much more than that, there’s an injection of funk and weirdness that occasionally brings to mind Talking Heads, if you played them at half speed, and replaced Byrne’s sudden manic energy with languid relaxation.

Best song: Mango

2018 - Heavenly Records - Indie rock

8. Love in the 4th Dimension by The Big Moon

The second chance discovery, The Big Moon are definitely more conventionally indie than their precedents in this list, but I like the simplicity of not adding too much to a song. This album blasts, first track Sucker building quickly and simply to a massive chorus, which is easy to imagine reverberating around Rescue Rooms or Rock City to a highly appreciative crowd.

But it slows, too. Formidable’s verses have a solemn quality, with imagery of a capsizing boat and vague references to “did she make you swallow all your pride?” changing the atmosphere to something more confrontational, before the chorus rugby tackles the subject, with still soft vocals.

Best song: Silent Movie Susie

2017 - Columbia & Fiction Records - Indie rock

7. Harry Styles by Harry Styles

“Have you listened to Harry Styles’ album?”

The same friend that brought me the Paramore song asked me this on a Texas road trip with my girlfriend, having grown understandably tired of my musical choices. I said no, with an implication of “of course not”, because he was a he One Direction guy, and I hated them and all they stood for.

That is a poor assessment of Harry Styles’ abilities as a songwriter and musician. His self-titled debut, such a classic going solo move, is a mature change-up from the former One Direction star. An aeon away from upbeat teen-pop, now Styles is singing maturely and softly about sex, not explicitly but provocatively in Carolina. The use of “Good Girl, she makes me feel so good” is not at all subtle, and the album often feels like these are ideas and feelings that Styles wanted to get off his chest. These are not One Direction songs, and much as the Harry Potter series mature as the books passed and readers aged, Harry Styles feels like an album aimed at One Direction fans who are growing less interested in the innocent, good boy image they’d cultivated.

The music is clean and engaging, but more complex than those previous recordings. In all, the album manages something tough: It reveals a former teen star’s true maturity without the need to scream it explicitly. It feels confident in its identity, which is an achievement in itself.

Best song: Two Ghosts

2017 - Columbia - Indie pop/soft rock

6. Mean Girls - Original Cast Recording

Mean Girls, the film, holds up. Comedy, as I’ve learned just across my time at university, is the first genre to age badly. Punchlines need a target, and our understanding and acceptance of who and what is allowed as a target is ever shifting. So for Tina Fey to ingeniously target not the cattiness of teenage girls, which is a cheap stereotype that the mainstream media still loves to find and blow up (see: the majority of Taylor Swift coverage), but rather the expectation that they’ll do that, and the mentalities of teenager in general, savvily keeps it fresh.

Mean Girls, the musical, opened in 2017 and moved to Broadway in 2018. Music is written by Jeff Richmond, Fey’s husband and collaborator on both the seminal 30 Rock and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Nell Benajmin provided lyrics whilst Fey wrote the book, and together they brilliantly recreated the quotable magic of the original. Fey’s credit is limited to the book but at times her voice is loud and clear in the lyrics. The dumbest plastic, Karen Smith, sings an ode to Halloween, which begins with her muddling over putting it before world peace as a priority, and builds to her love of costumes: “I’m sexy Eleanor Roosevelt or sexy Rosa Parks” is such a Fey joke, fitting of the film. It’s also delightful to hear some extra input on protagonist Cady’s initial best friend Janis (Barrett Wilbert Weed, the best performance), a wonderful character who has the backstory most ripe for exploration in any future works.

Hey, I managed not to say fetch.

Wait.

Damn.

Best song: World Burn

2018 - Atlantic - Broadway

5. Be More Chill - Original Cast Recording

Be More Chill is an honest story of teenagers and mental health. Adapted mostly faithfully from a 2004 novel by young adult author Ned Vizzini, the story is of Jeremy Heere, a high school loser whose initial goal is charmingly low-key. He just wants to be a bit less awkward and able to survive high school, but quickly decides to sign up for a school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, following in the steps of his crush Christine Canigula, a theatre lover with, in her words, “A touch of ADD”.

It’s this detail that sets the musical’s story apart from the book. Mental health is a subtextual theme of the book, but Christine and her love of performing as someone else and occasional scatterbrain, makes it explicit. The main thrust comes when a jock named Rich offers Jeremy a Squip, AKA a supercomputer, taken as a pill, that invades your brain and tells you how to act and speak. It helps Jeremy enter the cool kids’ circle, but at the expense of his friendship with the proudly dorky Michael, who is delighted that humanity has stopped evolving because, in his words, “there’s never been a better time in history to be a looooooooooooooooser!”

In the final song, Voices in My Head, Christine and Jeremy finally bond properly over the voices they’ve both heard, and it completes a surprisingly moving story of mental health in a musical that is often bombastically big and ridiculous - the Squip is supposed to have Keanu Reeves’ voice. Joe Iconis’ music and lyrics are witty and engaging, perfectly fitting the clever and original novel, and the sadly departed Vizzini.

Best song: Michael in the Bathroom (George Salazar)

2015 - Ghostlight Records - Broadway

4. Worhead by Little Comets

Little Comets are the most exciting band in current music.

This is a bold claim, but I like to be bold. Little Comets, who hail from Jarrow in Tyne and Wear, write the most incredibly moving, lyrically dense and thoughtful songs you can find today. Every song on Worhead is affecting.

If you listen to their first album, In Search of Elusive Little Comets, the musical and lyrical progression in six years is astounding. The fun early indie rock has complicated and deepened, like a lake dug out from beneath its surface. By 2017, lead singer and writer Rob Coles’ grasp on lyrics had become masterful, and he uses images to generate feeling so well. The title and opening tack immediately point to a specific image: “Standing in a field of grass, looking for a blade of grass”. Coles is upfront about his political beliefs - a 2014 song titled “The Blur, the Line and the Thickest of Onions” explicitly denies and attacks the language of Blurred Lines, and their music is often loudly feminist. Worhead asks us “My sweetheart, can we lean more, to the left side, to the left side of everything”. À Bientôt angrily speaks to anti-migrant rhetoric from their perspective, even including the temporary sympathy caused by the image of the dead boy washed up on the beach, whilst Hunting is written from the smug, entitled view of Tory ministers, cutting, unafraid of retribution, safe from the consequences.

Density of ideas is a Little Comets staple, and the unapologetic thickness of the accents often need a trip to their website or Genius for understanding, but Coles also writes poetically when he pares his words down for romance. “Common Things” describes globetrotting, but in the context of not wanting it, because of the joys of being home, only needing an atlas under the mattress. Elegant domesticity is the only kind of love song that continually appeals to me. They are a continually astounding and unique band.

Best song:

2017 - The Smallest Label - Indie rock

3. Illinois by Sufjan Stevens

I hardly ever enjoy music purely for the feeling that the music imparts on me. Before I was listening to music critically, I saw an episode of Charlie Brooker’s excellent series Screenwipe, which discussed and took the piss out of all elements of television. In an advertising special, he mentioned that advertisers love music as it bypasses the logical part of your mind and is processed emotionally. There’s something romantic about that, but at the same time sometimes I wonder if that subconsciously put up mental guards, and I have to understand lyrics to understand the emotions.

Illinois is a rare exception.

Sufjan Stevens relased Illinois in 2005 and it serves as a sort of concept album about the American state. It covers points from its history: “Come on! Feel the Illinoise!” covers the historic World’s Columbian Exposition, and “John Wayne Gacy Jr.” is about the infamous serial killer and affords him almost shocking levels of empathy. Stevens later said that we’re all capable of what Gacy did, which is debatable.

But we’re all capable of the grief woven into Caismir Pulaski Day, which tragically tells the story of losing someone who died on the state holiday celebrating their Polish revolutionary war hero.

An independent singer songwriter with track titles as terribly long as “The Black Hawk War, or, How to Demolish an Entire Civilization and Still Feel Good About Yourself in the Morning, or, We Apologize for the Inconvenience but You're Going to Have to Leave Now, or, 'I Have Fought the Big Knives and Will Continue to Fight Them Until They Are Off Our Lands!'” seems like someone addicted to acoustic guitar, but Stevens utilises piano, strings and horns, especially effective in the aforementioned ‘Come on’. The album is vivid and alive, and is really a practical tie for second.

2005 - Asthmatic Kitty/Secretly Canadian and Rough Trade - Indie rock/folk

2. Masseduction by St. Vincent

This year, I made a real effort, admittedly only in September, to get into new music. Reading an interview with David Byrne, I was intrigued by his mention of St. Vincent, aka Annie Clark. Anyone who can engage David Byrne is worthy of attention.

Inside the striking image and colouring of the artwork, Masseduction was first introduced to me in the opening scene of Bojack Horseman’s fifth season, replacing the standard use of Back in the 90′s by Grouplove with Los Ageless. The song, Clark’s depiction of Los Angeles, feels bleak and distant, the electronic music giving an disconnected vibe. It’s her relationship to the city, and the album as a whole is a series of looks at relationships. Pills is about a relationship with drugs, the title track and Savior are about sex. Happy Birthday Johnny, both slower and acoustic, feel related, as though they’re both about the same person, Clark coming to terms with the sadness of that loss.

Masseduction is endlessly listenable. It spans various pop genres, with enough variety to reward many listens and picking on many of its songs to focus on individually. Pills really does feel like withdrawal, with pumped up verses, an almost manic chorus, and a suddenly balladish final section, where the tone becomes surprisingly sombre. It works, powerfully so.

Best song: Pills

2017 - Loma Vista Recordings - Electropop/Glam Rock

1. The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society (50th Anniversary Edition)

The Kinks released Village Green Preservation Society on the 22nd of November, 1968, which sounds fine until you learn that The Beatles released The White Album on the same day, spelling inevitable and crushing doom, and the permanent departure of founding bassist Pete Quaife from the band. Quaife, who had grown tired of the industry and the Davies’ brothers warring ways, scrawled ‘daze’ on a tape recording of Days. But he left on perhaps the band’s highest note.

I don’t know what else can be said about this album. Even if every song isn’t a standalone masterpiece, with the strange fairy tale of Phenomenal Cat and the childlike Mr. Songbird only working in context of stories of the past, but they form a collective that is masterful in painting a rich story. It has the delicacy of a great painting, something that former art student Ray Davies must appreciate. And it is so distinctly Ray Davies in its voice, something only he alone could have written. It was their first album after a still somewhat mysterious five year ban from American touring, then the only real form of promotion, but it dismisses the cultural shift towards psychedelia with an almost passive-aggressive tone.

The weighty re-release is fitted out with sixty tracks, but they’re largely alternative versions of songs from the original album and the recording sessions, many unreleased, including the finished Time Song, and a lovely demo of Days, that proves that Davies was always a better writer than singer, bless him. Harmonies with his brother Dave always lifted the words, but they stand alone, as short stories, brilliantly formed.

VGPS contributes to their stereotypical image of proud Britishness, but there’s a look to the future and underlying sadness that add depth to the album. The original final track’s closing lyirc?

Don’t show me no more, please.

1968/2018 - Pye Records - Folk Rock

#music #music criticism #best of 2018

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3one3 · 7 years

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The Sequel - 845

Quiet Storm

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s (okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

Scuba diving had to wait until Wednesday. Captain Theo wanted to take Lilly XO and her family down to Hyères, or more specifically, to the area around the Île du Levant and the Parc national de Port-Cros. He said there were good spots for rookie diving there, there was a nature reserve to explore, and a nudist village. André thought that all sounded wonderful, and consented to spending much of Tuesday sailing instead of anchored somewhere. Christina napped a lot. She needed it, and it was surprisingly easy to sleep even while the 56m boat was underway and moving at speed. Everyone spent a lot of time on the fly bridge too, and took turns learning what to do at the helm. Lukas liked it up there in the wind. He liked playing in the lounge and watching musical Disney movies too. Only the dogs were grateful when Captain Theo decided to call it a day outside the entrance to the harbor in Hyères and suggested the family go ashore to check out the sprawling town and have some dinner. He would take them around the islands in the morning.

Christina found two things of interest right away when she fired up Google Maps. The first was a racetrack directly behind the marina and associated hotel, of the equine variety. It was a simple dirt track with some dirt paddocks in the infield and small bleachers. The website for the facility was useless, so she couldn’t find out if anything fun was happening there. The second point of interest was another racetrack, of the go-kart variety. And it was on the way to the denser part of Hyères where they could find lots of restaurants to choose from. Naturally they had to go do some racing. The staff wouldn’t let André take Lukas for a ride around the circuit, but it was still fun to race against the other random people there for some early evening competition. Christina got Espen to give it a go too. The nanny was pretty handy behind the wheel, much to her employer’s surprise. None of them won any of the arrive-and-drive races. Young kids seemed to have an inherent advantage in that they weighed much less than the adults.

After motorsport came dinner. Christina found a restaurant with an expansive garden, uncomplicated food, and a live band that covered everything from Bob Marley to Harry Belafonte without skipping Springsteen in between. She got drunk after the first course and made her own dance floor with her son when dancing on her banquette- cushions on top of wood pallets- wasn’t satisfying enough. With a Corona in one hand and a delighted child figuring out how to dance in the other, there was no question for André that his wife was still in a good place, even without Juan, even without Dirk, and even with him around her for a day and a half. He watched her try to show Lukas how to do a spin while she held his hand, and pick him up to dance with him on her hip, and let go of him and invite him to dance across the floor between them and into her arms, completely unbothered by the other people watching her or by the fact that they were the only ones dancing. The lead singer of the band complimented them and urged them on. André didn’t know what the guy said because it was in French, but it made most of the other dinner guests laugh. Only when the rider realized he was eating the fried chicken tenders that came on her Caesar salad did she return to the table.

“Do you need another beer, pretty girl?” he laughed when she gulped the last of her bottle and set it down so she could help Lukas with his tiny steak.

“Sí, por favor. Or...oui s’il vous plaît.”

“One more for her,” he told the waitress who returned to the table when Christina did, presumably to see if she needed anything as everyone else was already all squared away. What she needed most was an explanation for her salad.

I thought it was weird that it comes with chicken fingers, she thought once she was done cutting the baby’s food into baby bites so he could feed himself. She stared at the large bowl André slid back in front of her. It’s even weirder that it has big chunks of hardboiled egg, whole cherry tomatoes, endive, red onions, and a Parmesan chip made from like 6 bucks worth of cheese sticking out of it. Also, no sign of Caesar salad dressing. How does a Caesar salad not have Caesar dressing? Forlorn inside, the rider glanced around the rugged wooden table in hopes that her dressing was just in a side dish, misplaced. Ordering a Caesar salad was an internationally safe option for her. She had it everywhere. Sometimes it came with a creamy dressing, and sometimes an oil-based one. Either was fine. It could be tangy, or cheesy, or even mustardy. It could even have recognizable anchovies in it and she’d still eat it. There could be small variations on the theme and it would be perfectly acceptable. The mixed greens and inexplicable add-ons before her were puzzling, and disappointing. What’s he eating? Is it any better, Christina wondered curiously as she shifted her searching glance toward the plate across the way. Eww! His squid actually looks like squid! They’re like whole little squids! And what’s that goopy yellow stuff in the dish? Ugh. No. Nothing good to steal there.

“What are you looking for?” André asked.

“Salad dressing. There’s lots of shaved cheese on my salad, and things that don’t belong on it, but no dressing.”

“Eat the chicken in the meantime and when she comes back you can ask her for some.” He wasn’t as concerned about her salad. His plate of “whole little squids” was very appetizing, and Espen was already enjoying her veal meatballs. Lukas was shoving a French fry in his mouth. “The chicken is good. I don’t know what it’s doing on a salad, but, eh.”

“How many Instagram stories did you post of me dancing?” his mom inquired knowingly while transferring the breaded chicken to her bread plate so that she could cut it.

“None. I don’t need to share my holidays with three million people.”

“Mkay.”

“And you’ve been dancing all day. Whenever you weren’t sleeping. Dancing in the gym. Dancing in the shower. Dancing in the mirror after the shower. Dancing while steering the boat. Dance-“

“Okay we get the picture,” Espen assured the footballer. “Chris likes to dance when she’s in a good mood, and Luke likes to dance in every mood, especially if there’s any Shakira music.”

“Oh!” Christina’s outburst made everyone stop eating and look up, and even the waitress delivering her Corona abruptly froze and looked confused. She then asked her for the salad dressing- tentatively, of course, because she was afraid she was asking for something she wasn’t meant to have, as if she’d misunderstood the menu in the first place or something- and tried to make it sound like that wasn’t why she shouted “oh”, because it wasn’t. It was about dancing. “Do you think there are nightclubs around here with Latin music? That are open on Tuesday nights?” André and Espen both looked at her disapprovingly. “I wanna go out dancing for real.”

“I know of a club in Antibes with a Havana theme?” Espen offered, turning the rider’s face white.

“Yeah,” she frowned. “I know that one.”

“Is it not good? We’re going back that way in a few days, no?”

“It’s owned by one of Juan’s dad’s friends,” Christina supplied flatly. “They just played regular top 40 club music when I was there,” she added, trying to make it sound like her reaction was to the type of dance club it was rather than the memory of the role her visit there played in the night that changed her life during the Euros.

“What do you want Latin music for anyway?” André asked while she took the first and best sip of the cold beer.

“Isa got me hooked on a couple of artists. It’s fun to dance to. Not that you’d come dance with me anyway.” A tongue poked out between baby pink lips to taunt him for his lack of interest. It’s really a shame. We could be so sexy together if he had any rhythm. Damn it, where’s Reus? I need Reus to have any real fun on a dance floor. He’s in a knee brace anyway. Le sigh. Christina had another sip of beer and a bite of the chicken, and the dance club conversation was over. It was of no interest to André, and André was in charge of conversation, agenda, and decision making. He had been all day, or since he arrived in Cannes, really. His wife didn’t exactly ask his permission to do things like get up and dance with Lukas, or ask him what she should do on the boat on the way to Hyères, but she recognized when the decision was made to go ashore for the evening that she was deferring to his judgement and desire at every turn. The realization made her wonder if she was doing that at home too, on a “local” level- meaning she let him decide the day to day things while she was making her own big choices, like when to go away to compete and when to schedule time at home. She wasn’t really sure if she had been doing that or not, and thought it possible that she was deferring to him on those things to compensate for the big decisions, like she thought he deserved to choose what they did together when she was home because her big choices were so hard on him, and perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious thing on her part. The logical subsequent question was whether that potential deference was a source of some of their problems.

It was a lot bigger than fairness. Christina came up with a lot more when she dug into the subject while she and Lukas watched André and Espen go round and round the go-kart track. Dortmund was André’s. He lived there first, and he made a life there without her. He had friends there that were just his. He knew the city better. He knew Germany better. She felt there was something to that- that she was a second class citizen in the family because she was away so much, because she wasn’t from there, because she had to ask him where to go for things and explanations for basic cultural questions, and because he had a life outside of his marriage there. And she thought maybe he’d kind of gotten used to that. Back in the fall when they were waiting for the house to be finished, Christina thought her player changed a lot because he wasn’t living with a woman anymore, and he had more independence. He got reacquainted with sharing his home with her again, and with being considerate of another person in his day to day happenings, but because of that deference and authority she was inadvertently yielding to him, the balance in their relationship was still a bit askew. His being wholly dismissive of the dance club notion reminded her of that, because she thought there was a time when he would have at least pretended to be interested just because she was. The rider didn’t know the significance of any of that, but thought it useful to have considered it and added it to the worksheet, so to speak. There was plenty of time to ponder it at the table because despite André’s enjoying and appreciating her bubbly happiness and radiance, he largely ignored her at the dinner table in favor of interacting with the baby and talking to Espen about her vacation. Christina just ate quietly like someone who didn’t expect to be engaged in the conversation, including when it turned to what to do after dinner.

“It’s a 30-minute walk back, so we’ll just do that, yeah?” the BVB man suggested. “Mausi can ride in the stroller when he gets tired.”

“Is it 30 minutes at my walking speed or yours?” his girl asked dubiously. “Is it really safe to walk on the main road at night? Why don’t we just get a taxi?” My flip-flops aren’t meant for long distance walking, and it’s almost dark out, and I kind of wanted to put the baby and the nanny in a car back to the boat and then go find a cute lounge or patio or something to have a couple glasses of wine with boyfriend, since we’re not going dancing. I guess there’s wine on the boat, she concluded.

“If you want,” André shrugged. He was signing the credit card receipt for the check, and it caught him off guard when he looked up and caught her frown. “Did you want to do something else?”

“No. Not really.”

“No, or not really?” He knowingly sought clarification because there was a distinction in her two-answer answer. “No” meant he was in the clear. “Not really” meant there was something she wanted to do and just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it but could do so later, to his detriment.

“No.”

“Okay.”

That was that. They did all go back to the boat, but they did also take a cab, so Christina couldn’t really say he just got his way by default. Part of her wanted to yell and shout at the rest of her for looking for something to get upset over. A different part of her wanted to consider all the facts and evidence, and quit pretending about certain elements of her relationship struggles. It was well past Lukas’ bedtime by the time the launch approached the fold-out deck at the rear of Lilly XO, so bedtime procedures were commenced immediately. Espen claimed the TV in the living room and commenced the binge watching of Amazon shows saved up for months with her vacation and her working boat holiday in mind. André changed his clothes and then pondered which part of the boat he and his girl should claim. They could watch TV outside, or in bed. They could use the hot tub up on the top deck, or they could sit on the beanbag up there and do nothing. They could sit anywhere and have a drink. There were board games, and cards. There was music. It seemed to him like someone had finally pulled Christina’s cord from the socket and she was out of energy, so he didn’t imagine she’d be doing any more dancing. Indeed, she looked sleepy and a little “leftover drunk” when she emerged from her own wardrobe change. She padded right by him on the couch in the lounge, mumbling something about it being too stuffy in there, and continued outside into the cooler, fresher night air. He caught up to her while she stood between the couch and the dining table, trying to decide where to put herself.

“You okay, Prinzessin?” André asked, not really that concerned, when he hugged her from behind. She had an adidas hoody on with a big front pocket, so he put his arms through there and squeezed her tight for a second. Georgina was on his heels.

“Can I get anything for you?” she asked politely.

“Want anything?” the footballer parroted.

“Will you have a glass of wine with me?”

“Sure, baby.” He kissed her temple and then used his hold around her middle to turn her 45 degrees to face the chief stewardess. “She needs wine,” he smiled at said stewardess. “What kind?”

“Something chilled and fresh but not too fruity.”

“Something chilled and fresh but too fruity.”

“Got it,” Georgina smiled. She turned on her heel and disappeared into the lounge.

“Why are you so small?” André asked rhetorically after putting his chin on his girl’s head and leaning on her heavily. He had to bend down quite a bit to be able to do that.

“Why are you so tall?

“I’m not. I’m normal. You’re small.”

“K.”

“What’s up with you?” He leaned clear over her head and looked down at her upside down. I can’t help but think she’s been kind of quiet since dinner. She can’t be tired. She slept more today than probably all of last week, I’m guessing. “Tired?” Christina just shrugged and teetered under his weight as she tried to walk away. “Where you going?”

“I dunno. I was gonna sit on a lounge chair but I just remembered they’ve been put away.”

“Want to go upstairs?”

“K.”

The player nodded to his right, beckoning her to head back from whence they came so they could take the stairs up from the junction between the outdoor lounge and the inside one. Her walk in that direction was considered- she almost walked on her toes- instead of relaxed. Her short answers and her whole demeanor said there was something amiss with her, or at the very least, less than ideal. He poked her butt as she climbed the tiny stairs in front of him, and got no reaction. Instead of asking for a third time if she was okay, he tackled her at the top of the stairs and carried her, running, around the hot tub and one of the masts, and threw her onto the deep and cushy beanbag before also throwing himself on it.

“Ugh, Jesus, babe. My tummyyyy,” Christina groaned on her back. “That was worse than being sideways in rough water. I just aaaaate.”

“Are you gonna barf?” André asked, smiling. He rolled over to rub her stomach via that sweatshirt pocket. He liked the word “barf”. It wasn’t part of his vocabulary before he met his wife.

“Yes,” she told him with mock contriteness. “All over you. Repeatedly.”

“Love you too, baby.”

“Stop smirking at me,” she scowled while affecting an allover, full-body stretch with her arms above her head. He felt her torso shift as her top half went one way and her bottom half went the other. Her body vibrated a little as it reached the limits of its ability to stretch. In the back of his mind, he thought about how nice it was to feel her body move about under his palm. His girl as a living, breathing creature was something to marvel at sometimes. Sometimes it made him feel very connected to her to experience the sensation of feeling her physical form do things, particularly involuntary ones. Sometimes it made him feel very powerful, because he knew and could see that he had the ability to influence her involuntary movements. Sometimes it just made him feel the opposite of loneliness, and that was the hardest one to really understand.

“You’re an adorable little person,” he sighed, dropping the smirk. “I wish I liked it less when you get quiet and timid, but it’s cute. It’s not always because you’re upset or sad, so I guess it’s okay, eh?”

“Okay?” Christina squinted at him, confused. She had no idea what he meant.

“I think sometimes you get like this- you stop talking unless someone talks to you first, and you tiptoe around, and you make sort of sad faces- when you’re very busy thinking about something in your head.”

“As opposed to thinking about it in my knee?”

“Pfft! You know what I mean. It’s cute though. Except when it’s because you’re upset, or scared about something. What’s on your mind tonight, Prinzessin?” André questioned softly. He leaned on his elbow but stayed close.

“Nothing.” The bronzed little person beside him rolled onto her elbow too, and mingled her short and smooth legs with long and hairy ones. The fuzzy coating made them soft in a different way than hers were. His were like a cozy blanket and hers were like silk.

“Are you sure?” She’s lying, he thought.

“Mhm. Ooo, wine.” Her face brightened when she saw Georgina’s head pop up from the stairwell with two glasses of Côtes de Provence rosé. Whatever is on her mind must not be that serious if some pink wine erases it, the rising sophomore Bee decided. He sampled his pink wine and waited to see what Christina would do or say next.

She curled up perpendicular to him and leaned on his hip, making herself comfortable at his expense. Her arm dug into his side. That was evidence of her state too. It seemed unlikely she’d want to be close if whatever was on her mind, and sapping away resources, and forcing her to outwardly power down to compensate, was in any way to do with him. She held her glass in her palm and her thumb and used the rest of her fingers to gently feather around his stomach, just inside the bottom of his t-shirt and just above his sweatpant-like shorts. She liked that spot. Serious muscle felt firm against pressure, but his skin was smooth and soft and even kind of loose. Almost nothing tickled him, so she could feel and poke around there however she wanted without bothering him.

“Did you ask them to get rosé?” the player asked curiously. “You don’t normally drink it.”

“No, but I didn’t give them a bottle list or anything. It’s good,” Christina shrugged.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up with you tonight? Since dinner? Or do I have to guess?” André smiled. He was sure there was something using up all of her processing power. She didn’t seem particularly down or upset- just quiet and aloof, off in Christinaland.

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Just so you know, I don’t mind. As I said, I think this is cute, this thing you do. I don’t only enjoy being with you when you’re either dancing, talking my ear off, or sleeping. I enjoy this too. You convince yourself sometimes that I only like spending time with you when you’re smiling.”

“I know.”

“And you don’t have to talk to me, but I can just listen if you want to.”

“I know.”

“Is there anything you want me to listen to?”

“Soon.”

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