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elyvorg · 4 years

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Wandersong character rambles 1 of 3: Kiwi

Wandersong is so incredibly good that I need to get all my Thoughts about it off my chest by writing a series of rambles analysing its three most important characters. There will be spoilers, obviously. Plus, this’ll probably be kind of hard to follow anyway for people who haven’t played the game. Go play Wandersong! You won’t regret it.

(For anyone unaware, Kiwi is the bard’s canon name. It doesn’t feel right at all just calling them “the bard” for this; it makes them seem like just a simple caricature and not a complex and fully-rounded person with issues. Since part of their issues are specifically about wanting to be seen as more than just a silly happy bard, I want to do right by them and call them by an actual name. I was tempted to use “Lute”, the name given to them by the Let’s Play that introduced me to this game, which I still kind of think of them as, but I really should use the name that others reading this post are more likely to be familiar with. So, they’re Kiwi.)

2 of 3: Miriam

3 of 3: Audrey

Hero issues

Kiwi spends a lot of the story being bothered by the feeling of not being a hero like they so badly wish they could be. Although they hide it and keep being their usual cheerful self on the surface most of the time, the few times they end up talking about this, they lament how they’re not a hero at all, they’re nobody, nothing they do matters. Which is heartbreaking to see – because, really, it’s so obvious the whole time to everyone except Kiwi themselves that, even without the Earthsong, they’re already every bit the hero they want to be.

They may not be your typical action hero with cool powers like Audrey, and Miriam may also have powers and be better at the logistical side of things in terms of flying them places and knowing where to go next. But those aren’t the only things that matter! Kiwi is a different kind of hero who focuses on people, on understanding and helping and inspiring them. They make at least a small difference to so many people’s lives, just through talking and singing and caring about everyone!

During Act 3, after getting super excited at the idea of going on this heroic quest and being the destined hero who would bring back the mermaids, Kiwi ended up being really disappointed when they realised they weren’t going to bring the mermaids back and be that great hero after all. But ultimately, they did the right thing and respected the mermaids’ wishes rather than shallowly trying to make themselves look cool. They put others’ feelings above their own – which was the far more meaningfully heroic thing to do in that situation. (And I imagine that Audrey would have done the exact opposite.)

And don’t even get me started on the BUGS, which were the absolute perfect way to show just how instinctively Kiwi cares about everyone and everything, no matter how seemingly insignificant. With all the reminders that the Earthsong has never ever worked before, it’d be easy for Kiwi saving the world in the end to feel cheap and unearned. But the narrative does a great job of building up, through so many little things, that if anyone is capable of actually bringing the world together in harmony through music and connecting with everyone like they need to for the song to work, it’s Kiwi. They get it more than anyone else does. (And, well, technically it wasn’t the Earthsong they sung in the end, but the Wandersong succeeded in saving everyone because of the exact same principle.)

Another obviously-heroic thing about Kiwi is how determined they are, even when things seem almost hopeless. The only point at which they ever truly gave up on their quest was very briefly after the Queen of Chaos died, since they believed collecting the Earthsong had just become completely impossible. But as soon as Miriam reminded them that they can talk to ghosts and therefore there’s still at least a tiny chance, Kiwi got right back up and kept trying, and they never stopped again, no matter how small and overwhelmed and unheroic they felt. Which just makes them even more amazing – there’s nothing truly impressive about heroic feats if the “hero” finds them easy.

I grew more and more attached to Kiwi throughout their adventure for all of these reasons and more. They’re just so good! I was so, so invested in seeing them finally realise how much of a hero they were and become as proud of themselves as they deserved to be.

And, well… that part of the story ended up being a lot more understated than I was expecting. It’s only in their final speech trying to get through to Audrey that Kiwi expresses something to this effect: the notion that her being “the Hero” is just a meaningless title, and that if she worked with them to try and actually save the world and do the right thing, that’s what would make her a real hero.

It was probably spending so much time being jealous of Audrey’s powers and chosen-ness, yet frustrated about the way she insistently did the opposite of saving the world despite this, that led Kiwi to realise that the kind of person who shoots lightning first and asks questions later is, in fact, not at all the kind of “Hero” that truly counts as one. That really, it’s way more important to actually try and do the right thing, even if you’re just an ordinary person without goddess-given cool powers.

This is all directed at Audrey, though; Kiwi never applies those ideas to themselves. Still, the fact that they’re able to say that at all proves that they have finally figured out what really, meaningfully makes someone a hero, so presumably they’re not going to be feeling insignificant over not being one any more, even aside from the part where they really did end up saving the world.

But maybe it’s appropriate that Kiwi never quite has that explicit realisation moment of “I guess this means I really am a hero after all”. Because this isn’t about them. Being a real hero means making things about everyone other than yourself. And since Kiwi genuinely is this kind of hero, they wouldn’t make things about themselves like that. So even though this wasn’t quite how I was expecting things to go, maybe it’s how it always should have gone after all.

…Or, perhaps, it’s because Kiwi is too selfless, and they just don’t think their own feelings about wishing they were a hero are important enough to bring up and address at all. Not in this moment, or in any moment in general.

Too selfless

That’s the other aspect of Kiwi’s issues. They share their happiness and good feelings all the time because it helps people, which is a lot of why they’re able to be such a good hero! But they’re so selflessly focused on helping others that it begins to be kind of unhealthy towards themselves. Sharing their bad feelings doesn’t help anyone (or so they assume), so they just… don’t.

Kiwi didn’t truly get over their moping about not being the hero for several acts. Rather, in their own admission, they just stopped thinking about it. They started focusing instead on the things they could be happy about, like having managed to help Miriam and the people of Chismest. But they didn’t ever deal with their own problem; they pushed it aside and ignored it. That’s… not actually a healthy coping mechanism.

Miriam comments in the dancing conversation that Kiwi makes it look like it’s so easy to just be happy, and they unthinkingly respond with, “It is!”. And then it’s only after some more prodding from her that they admit… maybe it isn’t; maybe they actually have to try really hard to ignore the things that make them feel sad. But they’re so used to suppressing their bad feelings, so stuck on the thought that they should just be happy all the time, that they’ve even suppressed the fact that it’s hard for them to do that.

In particular, Kiwi calls their bad feelings “not important” – even though they readily acknowledge that Miriam’s bad feelings, and everyone else’s, obviously are important and worth talking about, because it’ll help them! But apparently, their own bad feelings are the sole exception to that. Kiwi is the one person who doesn’t need to be helped, according to Kiwi themselves. They exist to help other people feel happy, and their own bad feelings won’t do that, so those feelings don’t matter.

When Kiwi empathised with the bugs being small and insignificant, it read a lot to me like that came so naturally to them because part of them feels the same way sometimes. Not necessarily about their singing and their happiness, since they recognise the value of that. Rather, it’s as if the part of them that feels bad things has been horribly suppressed and smothered and treated as unimportant by the rest of them for their whole life. Which is incredibly sad and not okay!

After sort of confronting some of this during their conversation with Miriam near the end, Kiwi admits, “I’m the crazy one”. And perhaps they’re not precisely wrong to say this – turns out they’re pretty messed up, actually. These kind of issues could simply be put down to “because they really are just that painfully selfless” – and, I mean, Kiwi is – but in their case, there’s actually a little more to it.

Parent issues

The short of it all is that this is Kiwi’s parents’ fault.

Recall the beginning of Act 4. Kiwi has just been laid up in bed for probably a day or two because they were struck by lightning and seriously injured. Even though they’re finally well enough to walk around again, they’re obviously still feeling very down about something. Yet their own mother doesn’t ask how they’re doing, doesn’t wonder what’s wrong, doesn’t offer to listen if they want to talk about it. All she says to them is, “don’t go out looking like that; you’d look cuter if you smiled”.

Which, when you stop and think about it, is really rather messed up. Especially knowing from later parts of the game that Kiwi has issues with expressing their negative emotions and feels like all they should ever be doing is spreading happiness for everyone else’s sake.

(Their mom is perfectly satisfied with their obviously-forced smile, too, apparently not registering that if they can’t even muster a real smile right now then things must be seriously bad. As a neat detail, Kiwi will only put up the forced smile in their mom’s house, dropping it as soon as they’re not looking at her and putting it back up only if they turn to face her. Seems like they fully expect to be nagged by her all over again if they dare to not smile in her presence.)

I found this family interaction vaguely odd and questionable already during my first time seeing Act 4. What really clinched things for me, though, was the casual reveal during the credits that, oh, hey, the Baron from the factory – you know, the guy who was trying to force artificial happiness upon the whole town and only making everyone more miserable in the process – was actually Kiwi’s dad.

So, that Happy Kid toy he was making, which was (in theory) supposed to be a fountain of pure joy that would bring happiness to everyone who owned one? All those sales pitches for it sure hit different when you know that its creator is Kiwi’s father, who was almost certainly basing the toy off of his own literal happy kid. Happy Kid exists to make everyone happy! Everyone loves Happy Kid! Every family wants a Happy Kid! (And nobody cares about how Happy Kid actually feels inside. That’s not important.)

When they were little, Kiwi probably was genuinely quite a cheerful kid in the first place, someone who could make others smile just by being around them. Which apparently inspired their father to disappear and devote his life to spreading an embodiment of that joy to even more people, in theory creating happiness for everyone… except Kiwi themselves.

Little Kiwi was probably pretty sad about it at first. Their dad just up and disappeared one day, after all! But it seems like their mom agreed with her husband’s philosophy of how their kid should just be nothing but a wonderful fountain of happiness for others, so she encouraged Kiwi to suppress that sadness and all but forget they were ever upset about anything. When commenting in the ending that they don’t even remember what their dad looks like, Kiwi doesn’t seem sad about it at all. They don’t even seem to realise that not remembering one’s own father is objectively kind of a sad thing, even though they’re perfectly capable of recognising that Miriam being straight-up abandoned by her parents is sad.

I don’t think it would be wrong to say that Kiwi’s parents genuinely love their child, in some sense of the word. But my god, making things about everyone except Kiwi themselves was precisely the wrong way to express that, and Kiwi grew up pretty messed up as a direct result of this.

At some point seemingly a decent while before the beginning of the game, Kiwi moved out of their mom’s house and got their own place near Langtree. And I don’t think Kiwi quite consciously realises why they wanted to move out. That would require them to be able to acknowledge negative thoughts involving awkwardness and discontent with their family that they’ve been conditioned for a lifetime to suppress. In the credits, when their mom wishes they would come back and live with her (and their dad) again, Kiwi just says “No,” with no elaboration as to why not. They don’t mention that they feel really at home in Langtree, and they certainly don’t express the idea that maybe they kinda don’t like it in Chismest. There’s so much not being said about how weird and awkward and not-okay their whole family situation is, because Kiwi has unconsciously learned to not think about any of it at all.

The climax of Act 4’s mini-story, the scene in the factory where everyone confronts the Baron with the sentiment of, “hey, your forced attempt to make people happy is actually just making us all way more miserable beneath it, please stop”… there’s no way that’s not also a metaphor for exactly the kind of thing Kiwi themselves should be confronting their parents about. The Baron says after accepting his mistake that he’s got a lot he needs to think about – and he sure does. Not just regarding his town, but regarding his kid. The real one. Hopefully he can figure this out himself, and maybe share that revelation with his wife. But still, I worry that this bizarre couple might need someone to tell them this… and Kiwi, on their own, doesn’t seem likely to do that.

Miriam is the best

Good thing Kiwi has Miriam! She is the absolute perfect person to gradually become their best friend over the course of their adventure. And this isn’t just because the two of them can relate to each other over feeling inferior hero-wise, or being outsiders, or having difficulty opening up about certain feelings.

More than any of that, it’s because Miriam just so happens to be someone who is only helped and inspired by Kiwi once she becomes aware that they’re not perfect. In order to help her, like they always want to do, they have to actually talk about their not-so-positive feelings for once.

I cannot overstate how much I absolutely love this. It is exactly what Kiwi needed to stop being quite so painfully selfless and finally begin to become more comfortable with opening up about their own bad feelings.

For the first three acts, Miriam will get mad if you sing within earshot of her. She stops doing this from Act 4 onwards (except for a single screen in Act 5 when she’s upset about her broom having just been blown up). So it’s not that she has a problem with Kiwi’s singing in and of itself. I think what really frustrates her about it is that it’s Kiwi being so loudly and obviously happy around her. It must feel like they’re just rubbing it in how easy it is for them to be perfectly happy all the time. That’s bound to sting when being happy isn’t remotely that easy for Miriam – so naturally, she responds by getting angry, which is her go-to way of covering up her painful feelings.

It’s only in Act 4 once she sees first-hand that Kiwi doesn’t always find it so easy to be happy that Miriam appears to realise that their singing isn’t them trying to be obnoxious about it at all. Now that she knows they’re not perfect, it’s easier for her to understand that they’re genuinely doing it to try and help people rather than just to show off. (Perhaps sometimes Kiwi even needs to sing like that to help themselves feel happy in the first place.)

During their conversation in Act 4 as Kiwi convinces Miriam to help take down the factory, Miriam initially refuses out of bitterness. She feels inferior and useless next to Kiwi, who’s been going around seemingly-effortlessly getting all these Overseer songs and Earthsong pieces and generally just being way better at this than her (and why are they even moping about anything when they’re obviously so good at this?). It’s only once Kiwi admits that they feel similarly inferior after having seen that Audrey’s the real Hero that Miriam reluctantly agrees to help. Maybe Kiwi isn’t quite as frustratingly perfect as she’d thought; maybe the two of them have a little in common after all. From this point on, the pair finally start to feel like genuine comrades who are in this together and can gradually begin to become friends.

In the dancing scene in Mohabumi, Miriam manages to admit that she admires Kiwi for how they never stop trying. But as part of this, she makes a point that this is despite them being in way over their head with all this saving the world stuff, and that’s what’s really inspiring about them. Knowing that Kiwi isn’t perfect and is struggling with stuff makes them more inspiring to Miriam, not less! (…Almost like a hero? Like maybe they’re actually a much better hero than someone like Audrey, who really is apparently perfect? (She’s not, of course, but that’s a matter for another post.))

Then there’s their conversation in Langtree just before the end, in which Kiwi eventually admits (after quite some prodding) that they find it hard to share their feelings just like Miriam does, at least if they’re bad ones. They assume sharing their bad feelings won’t help anyone – and I adore Miriam immediately countering that it would help *her*. It only exacerbates her inferiority complex to be around someone who appears so perfect all the time, making her feel even more useless and broken by comparison. Seeing that actually Kiwi is also just a human being with flaws and struggles – that’s what Miriam needs, to know that she’s not so alone with her problems, and that if her friend can keep trying their hardest to overcome them anyway, maybe she can, too.

Miriam is the best, and this kind of thing is exactly what a too-selfless hero like Kiwi who hides their problems too much for the sake of others deserves to hear. I very much hope that this is the beginning of Kiwi making an effort to express more than just happiness more often, because they need that. Even if they feel at first that they’re doing it more for Miriam’s sake than their own, at least they’re doing it at all.

I strongly headcanon that at some point after the ending, while hanging out together being friends and occasionally talking about heavier stuff such as their family situations, Kiwi and Miriam figure out between them why Kiwi is so bad at talking about their negative feelings – that there’s a tangible reason for them being kind of messed up like this. And then Miriam encourages them to embrace those painful, complicated feelings about their parents and lean in to the frustration, because they have a right to be angry about all this. (She’s bad at expressing her feelings, too, but at least she seems to have experience with the idea that getting angry and frustrated can be a helpful way to vent about things that upset you. Being at least a little more like that might be healthy for Kiwi as they get to grips with expressing things that aren’t happiness.)

So Miriam flies Kiwi over to Chismest so that they can finally confront their parents and be all, “hey, it’s your fault I’m kind of messed up and I’m not happy about it, and I just wanted you to know that”. Then hopefully their parents can reflect on that and maybe try and learn to actually put their kid’s feelings first for once. And Kiwi… still won’t necessarily quite feel better, because things don’t just magically become happy like that, but at least they’ll have let out their feelings about all this at last, and that’s good.

Kiwi’s name?

…Okay, so this last part here is some wilder theorising that I’m much less sure is likely to be what the writer intended. But I still find it interesting to think about.

One bit of dev commentary mentions that no two characters in the game address the bard the same way, which I guess is a fun detail in terms of the wide variety of nicknames that different characters use for them. But what it also incidentally means, and I don’t know if the effect of this is deliberate or not, is that Miriam is the only person who uses Kiwi’s actual name.

This kind of feels appropriate at a glance, what with how Miriam is the only person who really gets to know Kiwi as a person and comes to understand their deeper insecurities, while everyone else just sees the cheerful, carefree bard they appear to be on the surface.

But it’s also a little strange, because you’d think certain people other than Miriam should know Kiwi’s name. The people of Langtree should, surely, if Kiwi’s been living with them for a while and is considered part of the town by now? The villagers all address each other by name, for the most part, so why should Kiwi be an exception? Then there’s Kiwi’s own mother, who, sure, has a pet name for them, but it also reads as slightly odd that she never uses their actual name even once. It just adds a little more to the pile of weird awkwardness that this family already is.

So, here’s the wild theory: Kiwi’s name wasn’t even Kiwi until they were asked by Miriam and Saphy to give their name. They have a birth name that their mother gave them, but due to all the unspoken awkwardness with their family situation, they didn’t really want to bring that name with them to Langtree when they moved out. It’s effectively a deadname (…not that I think they’d quite word it that way to themselves, because that’d require openly acknowledging the bad feelings involved). They just never gave a name to the villagers in Langtree when introducing themselves, and said villagers never asked, either. Both parties were happy to simply use variations on “the bard”.

Then, when Miriam and Saphy actually did outright ask the bard for their name, because they didn’t want to give their deadname, they had to literally make up a new name on the spot.

The way in which the game makes you name the bard is really unique. It doesn’t give you freedom over a full keyboard of letters, so the naming process is a lot more haphazard and improvised than naming a player character usually is. You’re likely to initially land on a name that sounds silly and not right, then have to reject it and try a few more times until you get something you’re happy with, something that seems to fit for the character you’ve spent a whole act with by now.

Assuming you do take multiple tries, Miriam even has a line of dialogue commenting on how strange it is that the bard needed several tries just to say their own name. Then there’s her “Welcome to the ‘team’, ‘Kiwi’,” with quotation marks on not just the “team” (because Miriam is not happy about working with them), but also on the name, as if she’s extremely sceptical over whether that’s even their real name at all. Like it sounds like they just made it up on the spot – and this happens even if you do come up with it in one try.

Again, I’m not sure whether this is writer-intended; it could be just a coincidental side effect of the way the character-naming system is creatively integrated with the note wheel. But take the player out of the equation and view that scene at face value as something that really happened that way in-universe, and suddenly it reads a lot like the bard is coming up with a name for themselves off the top of their head!

The only other in-universe explanation is that Kiwi is just being silly and giving random letter-smushes as their supposed name before telling the truth, as… a joke? But that’s not even a great joke, not to mention just kind of rude to these people who are asking to work together with them. It doesn’t quite seem in character for Kiwi to do that.

…Mind you, they probably wanted Miriam and Saphy to think that the failed names were just some kind of weird joke. Actually admitting to any hint of the awkwardness with their family would never have crossed their mind as an option, because they’re supposed to be perfect and happy all the time, right? So, no, um, it’s actually totally normal to make several fake joking suggestions before telling someone your own name, and also to have a name that maybe possibly just came from you randomly picking your favourite fruit or something. It’s fine, they’re Kiwi now (they guess…?), and they don’t have any problems whatsoever. They want to help these new friends of theirs save the world, and having problems of their own would just get in the way of that.

Miriam probably did write it off as weird joking, but if we read this scene in a completely in-universe way, I think Saphy might have actually figured out what was really going on here. She’s the one who asks to confirm each time if this really is the bard’s name, which gives them the opportunity to back out and pick a different one if they’re not happy with this one. It reads like she knows exactly what they’re doing and is being understanding and patient, while also not prying into why they’re coming up with a new name here when they obviously don’t want to talk about it. Then, once the bard settles on something, she says, “What a wonderful name!”, like she wants to help them feel comfortable in the name they just picked for themselves. Saphy is good.

After the ending, as Kiwi has grown more comfortable with talking about their issues to Miriam, I imagine they’d confess to this at some point – but I’m sure they’d also decide that they’ve come to be quite happy with their new name by now. It’s what their best friend Miriam knows them as, after all, and that’s what’s most important.

#wandersong #the bard #miriam #ramble #character analysis #friends #oh hey looks like someone else has hero issues this time #see how much i love wandersong?#eight pages of rambling about just its main character much - and i'm not even done

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allskynostars · 7 years

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Ever Since New York Pt 11

Okay the song used in this chapter is Kiwi, by Harry Styles. I love that song, and it always make me want to dance and sing along sooo it's the perfect fit :)

Also, tomorrow it is my boo @lazydaizies birthday, so I am dedicating this chapter to her. She has been nagging me for some more smut, so whens a better time? Here's your gift my love, I hope you enjoy ;) Seriously though you are the best thing this fandom bought me and i love you forever, I hope you have an amazing birthday. And if any of you haven't read her fics, please do... You will not regret it. And wish her a Happy Birthday tomorrow!!

As always thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

Jughead woke before Betty that Saturday morning, much to his own surprise. She's usually an early riser, but with all that had gone on he couldn't blame her for being exhausted. She was tucked into his elbow, her face angled up in a way that gave Jughead full view of the bruise on her jaw. He felt himself stiffen, the thought of anyone wanting to harm a hair on her head made his skin crawl. He reached out his free arm to run his fingers over the bruise ever so lightly. It had started to yellow over the last day, but still purple enough to prove it had been a fairly hard hit.

"I'm so sorry he hurt you, Betty" He whispered, careful not to stir her from her sleep. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "But I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. I'm going to make sure of it." He couldn't help but place a soft kiss on her nose. Betty stirred then, blinking slowly as her eyes adjusted to the morning light. She gave him a sleepy smile that made his heart race. "Morning, Juggie." She tucked herself further into his arm, hers wrapping around his waist. "God, I love waking up to you. Can I do it forever?" She nuzzled into his chest, squeezing his middle with her arm. He laughed and kissed the top of her head.

"Soon, baby, I promise." Betty turned to look up at him, her bed head and little pout making Jughead laugh at her again.

"Soon is not soon enough." She huffed. Jughead couldn't help but lean his face down to hers and suck her pouty bottom lip into his mouth. Betty laughed into the kiss, pouting again when he pulled back. "Hey!"

"Stop being so cute, Cooper. I've got shit to do today." He winked at her, a broad smile taking over his face. Betty climbed onto him then, her chest on his.

"Do you not want to stay here with me at your disposal aaaaall day?" She said slowly, dragging her tongue across her bottom lip before she sunk her teeth into it. A grunty, primal sound escaped from Jugheads throat before he grabbed her waist and flipped her onto her back. Betty was giggling as he hovered over her on his hands, arms outstretched. She couldn't help but reach her hand out and brush away the hair that fell over his face.

"Just, hold that thought, okay?" He quickly pecked her lips with his own, jumping off the bed quickly before she could grab him, running into the en-suite to brush his teeth.

"Fine, but I'm not getting out of bed all day." She muttered as she climbed back into the covers, pulling the duvet up around her neck. She poked her tongue at Jughead as he came back out from the bathroom.

"I hope that's a promise." He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t shirt, purposely leaving his beanie on top of his dresser. He grabbed his keys instead, walking back over to the bed to kiss Betty goodbye, "I'll be as quick as possible, okay? Wish me luck Betts." She quirked a brow at him.

"Luck for what?" He just grinned at her and tapped his nose before giving her one more kiss and heading out the door.

*****

"Jug, you are doing the right thing. The honorable thing." Fred came up behind Jughead, who was staring the house next door out the window with a lump on is throat. He clapped a hand on Jugheads shoulder.

"I know," Jughead nodded, looking back at Fred over his shoulder. "But that doesn't stop me from being nervous as hell." Fred laughed lightly.

"I know, I don't blame you. But after all you've been through.. I'm proud of you, kid" He smiled at Jughead, the pride evident in his eyes. "And so happy for you, for both of you." He pulled him into a hug. "You make sure next time you bring that lady of yours to see me, okay?"

"Of course, Fred. I would have brought her but, you know.." He shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

"I know." Fred bumped Jugheads shoulder with his fist. "Now, you've been standing here looking over there for 20 minutes. Off you go." he clapped his hands, ushering Jughead back to the front door. Jughead had come to see Fred to get some motivation, some advice, and maybe to waste some time. Just as he was about to open the door, he turned back to Fred.

"Thanks, Fred. Honestly. You've been like a Father to me, I"ll never know how to thank you enough." He pulled the older man in for another hug.

"Hey, don't sweat it, son. I'm always here." Freds voice was hoarse, heavy with pride for the young man. He had finally gotten what he deserved. He could finally be happy. And with all the love he could muster he pushed Jughead out the open door. "Now stop procrastinating."

Jughead could hear him laughing as he shut the door in his face. He rolled his eyes at the closed door, and taking in a deep breath he allowed his feet to direct him next door. He could feel his heart beating in his throat as he crossed the yard, up the garden path. It had been a long time since he had seen Hal Cooper, let alone spoken with the guy. As he climbed the few steps to the front porch he wiped his hands on his jeans, he didn't want his nervousness to be obvious when he shook his hand. And then he was there, wrapping his hand into a fist as he knocked on the front door.

He could hear the footsteps approaching the door, and for just a split second the thought of running back down the stairs and just bolting down the street crossed Jugheads mind. He shook his head, no, he was doing this right. Doing this right for Betty. And it was with that thought that he straightened his back and put his hand out as Hal opened the door to him.

"Ah, I thought I heard your bike next door." Hal shook his outstretched hand, and then pulled the door open fully, nodding his head. "Come in, Jughead."

"Thanks, Hal." He replied, stepping foot into the Cooper house for the first time in 6 years. Not that he came through the front door very often, he thought to himself with a smirk. He followed Hal into the dining room, and following suit took the seat opposite the one Hal had just sat in. He took another deep breath, racking his brain on where to start. "Listen, I -" Hal cut him off with a raised hand, but the trace of a smile on his mouth made Jughead relax in his seat, if only a little.

"Jughead, Betty told me everything. And I appreciate you coming here, I really do. You don't need to explain anything to me, it's nothing that I need to understand. But if my Daughter is happy, and safe," He put emphasis on that word in particular and his gaze became heavier, Jughead felt the hairs on his arm raise, "Then I have no reason to question anything. I know you love my daughter, Jughead." He took this opportunity to butt in.

"I do, Hal. With everything I have. I would never harm a hair on her head, I can promise you that. It's my life purpose to see that nothing hurts her again." His voice was strong, meaning every single word. Hal could hear it, and he started to nod his head slowly.

"That was my life purpose, too, Jughead. And I failed." His eyes fell to the table. to his hands that he had been wringing together. "But, for some reason, my daughter has chosen you. And I will never stand in the way of her happiness again." He raised his eyes back to catch Jugheads, his gaze softened. "And I feel like I can trust you to take care of her. I know," His breath hitched in his throat and he swallowed it back down, "I know she will argue that she can take care of herself, but I can't help but feel relief knowing she will have you by her side." Jughead couldn't help but smile.

"I swear, your trust isn't misplaced. And you're right about her arguing her point," He couldn't help but let out a light laugh, "But even so, I'll be there. Always." Jughead could feel his palms slick with sweat again as the nerves creeped back in. "Actually, that's what I, what I, uh,-" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose in preparation. Opening his eyes, he held Hals gaze again. He needed to know he was serious.

"I would like your blessing to ask your daughter to marry me." He said as he let the breath he had been holding out, not once breaking their stare. He blinked a few times, waiting for Hals response. When the man just watched him, not looking like he was going to speak up anytime soon, Jughead could hear his heart beating heavy in his own chest. He wondered if Hal could hear it too. "I know.. I know it might seem fast but, in my defense sir, I have loved your daughter since I was 16. And even though we've spent more time apart than together, a hell of a lot more, I still love her as I did then, more so. And I think that proves that she is it for me, I have never even looked at anyone the way I look at Betty, and it may sound pathetic but -"

"Jughead."

"B-but, just having her as my girlfriend is not enough. It's not enough for me, I need to prove to her that this is it and -"

"Jughead! Your rambling, son." Hal broke into a hearty laugh, shaking his head lightly. Jughead felt his cheeks redden.

"Shit, sorry. I just, I really love Betty. More than anything." He shrugged, eyes widening when he realised what he said. "Sorry for saying shit, twice." He cringed. Hal just rolled his eyes in jest.

"Thank you for coming to me first, it really does mean a lot." Hal smiled at Jughead warmly, and Jughead knew he had won him over. Not that he needed too. "And you have my blessing, to make my daughter as happy as possible for the rest of her life."

Jughead was so ecstatic he couldn't stay seated, he jumped up and walked around the table to shake Hals hand vigorously.

"I swear, on my life I will."

"I'll hold you to that one, son." Hal winked, only half joking. "So, when are you planning on popping the big q?" He asked as Jughead sat down in the seat once again.

"Not yet. I'm going to follow her to New York, in a couple of weeks after I sort myself out here. Then I'll ask, when we are finally together properly, when the dust settles." He can't help but grin at the thought of proposing to Betty, the thought of being able to call her wife one day. His happy thoughts were interrupted with an undesirable name drop.

"Is Jack a part of the things to sort?" Hal asked cautiously, eyeing Jughead suspiciously. "I don't want you running after him, Jug. What he did was terrible, I know, and I want to ring his neck myself. But if anything else happens, we ring the police, okay? I know Betty doesn't want that fuss, and I told her I wouldn't. But if he so even breaths in her direction again, then we get the authorities involved." Jughead can hear the hidden suggestion, he knows Hal is speaking to him directly, urging him not to inflict his own revenge.

"Hal, he has to be punished. He hurt her, he lay his filthy dirty scummy hands on her. I know what we did was wrong, but that is no excuse to ever hit a woman" Jughead shivered in repulse. "I can't sleep at night knowing that he's just walking around, scot free." He hadn't realised he was clenching his fists so tight, his knuckles were white. He stretched his fingers out, trying to loosen the the tension.

"I know, I know." Hal nodded his head, not disagreeing. "But, for Betty's sake," He dipped his head, trying to catch Jugheads eyes with his own, "For her sake, don't get yourself involved. If we have to, we go through the law, okay?"

"Yeah, okay.." Jughead didn't agree, but he would act as though he did. He wouldn't let this go.

"Anyway," Hal clapped his hands on the table, trying to break the tense mood, "I am excited for a wedding! Have you spoken to Alice about your intentions yet?"

Jughead looked away shyly, not really wanting to reach out to Alice. Hal just laughed and shook his head.

"Can't blame you, son. Can not blame you."

*****

Jughead couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he raced back home on his bike. He was so excited, and even though he couldn't exactly tell Betty anything just yet, he was going to show her just how excited he was.

He bowled through the front door with such a purpose he was surprised it didn't pop right off its hinges. He threw his keys onto the coffee table and kicked his shows off with no care where they landed. He snuck around he doorway into the bedroom, disappointed that Betty was not where he had left her. But his disappointment faded quickly as he heard music trailing from under the door of the en-suite. She had obviously, miraculously, not heard him come in. He took the opportunity to sneak over to the door, already slightly ajar, he pushed it open far enough to see in.

And there she was, in all her glory. Her hair was freshly washed, leaving droplets of water trailing down her back. Jughead watched a single drop make it's way to the clasp of her black bra, matching the pair of black lace panties she was wearing. And that was all that adorned her body. Jughead licked his lips as he watched her dancing in front of the mirror in the tiny bathroom, singing around her toothbrush to the music she was playing from her phone.

"She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes, hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect." She was swinging her hips to he music, and Jughead was mesmerized. He could watch her for the rest of his life and never be bored. She had finished brushing her teeth, but continued to use her toothbrush as a microphone. "And all the boys, they were saying they were into it. Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck.' Well, this boy was definitely into it.

"She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it, I'm kind of into it. It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it." She continued to sing into the mirror, swinging her head in such a way that the water from her hair was splattering onto the mirror, and the floor. But she was enjoying herself, as was Jughead. Proven by just how much tighter his jeans had gotten whilst watching her dance, completely carefree. He wasn't sure how much longer he could watch her without just putting his hands all over her, the lyrics matching exactly how he was feeling. "I think she said.." And then Betty was facing him, her pointer finger aiming right at his face, the biggest grin he had ever seen taking over her face.

"I'm having your baby, it's none of your business!" The look on Jugheads face was priceless, and Betty couldn't help but burst out laughing. She dropped her toothbrush back on top of the vanity and brought her a hand to her hip, arm bent at the elbow. She tilted her head and bit her lip before asking. "Too soon?"

Jughead had gotten the joke, and smirked at her with a devilish look in his eyes. Before she could go anywhere he was bending her over his shoulder and walking her out of the en suite. He gave her a smack on the ass before throwing her onto the bed, Betty only being able to answer in a fit of giggles. Jughead climbed onto the bed, one knee on each side of Betty's hips, trapping her.

"You think you're funny?" He asked, trying to sound commanding but the lust in his voice was a dead giveaway. Betty looked up at him through her lashes, which she knew made him weak, and nodded her head lightly. "You're a little shit, you know that? I could have watched you in that bathroom forever."

"Yeah, well," Betty ran her hands up the length of Jugheads arms slowly. "Maybe if you weren't panting like a dog you wouldn't have given yourself away." She bit into her lower lip again, trying to fight a smile. He just looked down at her and shook his head, smiling at the smug look on her face.

"Maybe if you weren't so immodestly dressed." He raised his brow, his eyes scaling her body, referencing her black lingerie that she knew was his damn favourite.

"Take them off, then." She whispered, her voice laced with desire.

"Your wish is my command, m'lady." He mocked a British accent, which came out terribly and Betty was giggling away again. But Jughead was already preoccupied with slipping her panties down her legs, slowly, raising both her legs to pull the delicate, tiny amount of lace from around her ankles. As he let her legs fall back down, she left them on his shoulders. He took the invitation gracefully, as he started placing soft, light kisses down her legs. When he reached her thighs, he orientated between the two, moving painfully slow to her center. Just as he got to where she wanted him the most, he let his tongue run lightly over her opening, just enough to tease. And Betty let out a huff of disappointment and he continued his way up her body. He laughed against her stomach as he felt her wiggling, trying to push him back to where she was aching for him. His palms came down flat on her hips to hold her steady.

"Juggie..." She moaned, and her voice was so heavy with need he felt himself harden even more. Teasing her was one of his favourite pass times, winding her up to the point she literally fell apart. His mouth had reached her bra now. His hands moved from her hips to where the straps sat on her shoulders, he pulled them down ever so gently, one by one, leaving more kisses in their wake. Now her breasts were exposed to him, and he moved his mouth down her chest to the rise of flesh. His kisses became wet, and when he took a nipple in his mouth his teeth came into play, grazing lightly. Betty let out a hiss in pleasure, and Jughead smiled against her, knowing exactly what he was doing. As he pulled away he blew lightly over the light red marking he had left around her nipple. He knew that drove her crazy. He gave the same treatment to her other nipple, not wanting any part of her to feel left out. Bettys back was arched into him so much it was like she was going to snap, and he loved it. The friction from his jeans between her legs was definitely helping his cause. He took advantage of her arched back to reach around and unclasp her bra, throwing it to the ground. Jughead pulled himself up onto his elbows, admiring his work on her body. She was littered with marks the shape of his mouth, and he wanted her to always be covered in him.

"Jug, please.." Betty was reaching between them, at the hem of his t shirt. He helped her pull it over his shoulder, and then she was at the button on his jeans.

"Someones keen." He joked. But Betty was done with joking, she just needed him. Once he had kicked off his jeans and his underwear he lowered himself back over Betty, between her legs, finally bringing his mouth down on top of hers. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue found hers. His hand found it's way down her thigh to her center again, a smirk forming on his lips when he could feel just how keen she was. "Jesus, you are so fucking wet, baby." He muttered against her open mouth.

Betty didn't even have it in her to respond, only to buck her hips up to him, needing him to just touch her already. He didn't have the willpower to tease anymore. She sucked in a breath as he separated her with his fingers, trailing his thumb up along her warmth, in search of her clit. As soon as he hit it, her hips bucked instinctively, his thumb running soft circles over the sensitive bud. He used his other two fingers to trail back down, and then back up again. Her moans into his ear driving him to pick up his pace.

"Fuck, Jug, more.. Please." She could barely speak. her voice coming out just above a whisper. She left sloppy, wet kisses up his neck, across his jaw, biting into his lobe when she reached his ear. The sudden pain drove Jughead up the wall, which he showed her by slipping a single digit inside her, still working on her clit with his thumb. She cried out as he slid in another, relishing the feeling of any part of Jughead being inside her. He worked his fingers in and out, changing the pace just to keep her on the edge. Her nails were all over his back, and he knew she was drawing blood but it just made him want her more. She brought her hands to cup his face, drawing his mouth down to hers again, her tongue invading his mouth. She made sure she had eye contact before she caught her breath. 'I need you, Jughead. I need you inside of me, now."

He could see the need in her eyes, hear it in her voice. He didn't need anything more than that. He pulled his fingers out of her, Betty only feeling empty for a moment while he lined himself up with her entrance. And then he was slowly pushing his tip inside her, wanting to feel her take him completely. His head fell into the crook of her neck as he slid in further, feeling her expand to take him fully. Betty let out a cry in pleasure when Jughead started to move inside her.

"Fuck." He grunted as he pulled nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip, only to catch her eye as he thrust back into her again, more forceful this time. Betty was definitely not complaining. They found their rhythm as they always did, they moved together so perfectly, fitting together like they were each made only for the other. Jughead knew he wasn't going to last much longer, so his hand snaked between the two of them, finding that sweet spot yet again.

"Come with me, baby." He groaned. She wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly to give him more leverage, allowing him deeper into her. Jughead loved how Betty never made any effort to be quiet. She was literally screaming his name, and if anyone was outside then they could definitely hear her. But it only drove Jughead more crazy, pushing him closer to his release.

"Jug, yes, oh my, my g-god, I'm.." He could feel her starting to tighten around him, so his thumb instinctively rubbed faster against her, his thrusts deepened even more somehow until she couldn't take any more. And he's never felt her so tight around him.

"Betty, holy shit.." And then she's there, calling out his name in pure ecstasy, and he's following, shuddering as he fills her. He falls on top of her, feeling himself slip out as the evidence of their highs trickled down her thighs. Jughead placed kisses along her shoulder that he had collapsed into. Betty kissed the side of his head, running her hands along the cuts she had left on his back, grimacing as she realises how deep some of them actually are.

"Sorry, Juggie. I need to trim my nails." She feels him laugh against her.

"No, I like it. It's like your branding me." He whispers into her shoulder, trailing more kisses along her collarbone.

"Well, you are mine now. You're not going anywhere." He smiled against her, knowing that she was right. He would never be without her again. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself proposing right then and there, but he just wanted to wait for the perfect moment. It wasn't that he had any doubts about marrying Betty, not a single one. No, he wanted her to be his wife. He wanted to be her husband. He didn't care if it was just a piece of paper and a pair of rings, he wanted it all. He wanted marriage and babies and a house. Maybe not in that order, but he wanted it all none the less. Him, Jughead Jones. Even he couldn't believe it sometimes. But that's what Betty did for him, she made him want everything out of life. And he loved her so much for that.

Betty had fallen asleep on the drive back to New York, only waking when her Dad had started to shake her. They were walking up the street from the parking building to her apartment now, and Hal had plenty of questions about the neighborhood and the building.

"I feel really secure here, Dad, honestly. There are separate elevators for guests. And there's always a doorman on duty, see." She tells him as she opens the door to the lobby, nodding at the man sat behind the desk. She swiped her key and waited for the resident elevator.

'"Yes, that's well and good. But I will definitely feel better when Jughead is here." Betty couldn't help but roll her eyes at her Dad. She too couldn't wait for Jughead to be here, but for reasons that contrasted her Fathers heavily. She pushed the button for her floor.

"Me too, Dad. But I can look after myself too, you know." She gave him some side eye.

"I know, Betty. But still." Hal laughed to himself, and Betty was going to ask what that was about just as they arrived at her floor. She handed her backpack to Hal so she could fish her keys from her handbag while they walked down the hall to her door.

Bettys heart dropped as soon as she stepped inside. Her apartment was trashed. Completely and utterly trashed. More of her framed photos were smashed on the ground, her coffee table was on it's side. Her couch had been cut open, the filling all over the room. She choked on her words as her Dad came to her side. His eyes went wide as he grabbed Bettys shoulder.

"Jesus Christ, what on earth." Hal snapped, his voice laced with anger. He walked to the kitchen, seeing plates and cups smashed all over the floor. "My god, Betty. Was this? Was this Jack?" He asked as he came back to stand beside her.

She can't speak, it feels as though she's glued to the ground. All she can manage is a slight nod of her head, and then she starts to shake. Hal quickly grabs onto her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Well. we are not staying here. What was I just saying? How the fuck did he get into the building? Thank god you were not on your own. Or even here, for that matter" Betty is shocked at the anger in her Dads voice, he never swears.

"Okay, Dad. I, I j-just need to check the rest of the place. The bedroom. I'm, I'm going to call Jughead." She can't stop her voice from breaking, and Hal hugs her tighter.

"Okay, hunny. I'm going to ring the police, okay? He had already gone too far laying a hand on you, now this?" He was shaking is head in disbelief. Betty nodded in agreement to call the police, and then made her way to her bedroom. It hadn't been touched as much as the rest of her place, just a lamp smashed and her pillows all over the show. She sat down on the bed and tried to stop shaking. It wasn't that she was scared, it was just that she couldn't believe a man who claimed to love her could do this. She pulled her phone from her pocket.

"Hey, there's my favourite girl. How was your trip back? You home now?" His voice was so happy it made her cry, she was about to take that away from him. "Betty? Betty, what happened? What is it? Are you okay?"

"Jug, my place.. I-it's trashed.. He got in somehow, he broke all my sh-shit.." And now she's sobbing, shuddering uncontrollably. "How could he do this. J-Jug?"

"Baby, I am so sorry. I can't believe this. He is the worst, I am seriously going to kill him. I'm going to come to you -"

"No, please Jug, my Dad is here. I am okay, I promise. I'm just in shock."

"Yeah, unsurprisingly." She can hear the anger in his voice. "Are you sure you don't need me? I can speed." Somehow she managed a laugh.

"I always need you, Jug, but you stay there. If you come out here now you'll just have to go back again, and the quicker I can have you with me for good the better." She heard him sigh through the phone.

"I know you're right, but fuck, I just want to hold you right now." She can't help but smile, he always said the right thing, even without realising it.

"Me too, Juggie. Dad is going to get us a hotel for a couple of nights while we figure this out."

"Thank god he is there with you. If you had found that on your own, Betty, I.. Fuck." His breathing heavy and she knows he is probably pacing the room.

"I know, I know. I am glad he is here too." Hals ears must have been burning, as just then he came into the bedroom.

"Is that Jughead?" She nodded. "Can I speak to him? You go and check the bathroom, sweetie. And gather what you need for the next few days."

"Okay, yeah." She replied to her Dad. "Jug, Dad wants a word. I'll ring you later okay? I love you."

"Love you too, baby." And then Betty handed the phone to Hal. He made sure she was out of the room before he spoke.

"Jughead? Forget what I said. I've called the police, but he needs his own. You understand?" Hal knew the police wouldn't be able to do much about this, maybe some community service, but no time. And he needed to suffer. He knew Jughead would agree.

"Yeah, Hal. Leave it with me. I got this."

Little did Hal know, Jughead was already onto it.

#ever since new york #allskynostars fics #riverdale #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #bughead #bughead au #bughead fanfic #bughead fanfiction #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #bughead smut

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mattbrothersscriptwriter · 5 years

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My Top 20 Films of 2018 - Part One

Hello people, time to once again resurrect this defunct blog to ramble about some films again. You may notice a trend if you scroll back through.

OK so I saw a BUNCH of movies this year, thanks again in part to some fantastic arts cinemas, film festivals (well, Sundance London and Frightfest) and yet another banner year for Netflix original content. There were many I didn’t catch like A Star is Born, First Reformed, Aquaman, BlackkKlansman etc but for my FULL ranking of all 135 films I did manage to see, as always go to my letterboxd list here - https://letterboxd.com/matt_bro/list/films-of-the-year-2018-1/

Alrighty then, let’s kick things off:

20. A Quiet Place

As a writer who is hugely inspired by high concept ideas with a grounding in genre, it thrilled me no end to see this ‘elevator pitch’ of a thriller do so well, both critically and commercially. Set in a world where making the slightest noise means certain death from these horrifying, Starship Trooper looking motherfucking bug aliens, we follow a desperate family trying to survive and all the hardships that entails when communication is cut down to a bare minimum.

Of course, this film – which in the wrong hands with a lesser script could easily devolve into a Birdemic style mess – has a helping hand right out the gate in both the star power and gravitas of Emily Blunt and the assured (almost TOO assured) direction of co-star John Krasinski. Their performances ground the action superbly (along with the excellent, actually deaf newcomer Millicent Simmonds) and the tension can be cut with a knife for practically the entire runtime. Famously, people’s enjoyment of the film usually came down to how well behaved their cinema audiences were, which is perhaps the most cruellest of circumstances because the irony is that this is a film that simply must be seen with a rapt audience in a huge dark room… but the second anyone breaks the unwritten code of the cinema, the illusion is shattered. Luckily, within the first three minutes, my crowd were practically holding their breath to maintain the silence. And when I felt a sneeze coming on, let me tell you, that was maybe the scariest moment of the lot!

A tense thrill ride with a genuine ‘why didn’t I think of that’ premise, A Quiet Place is another runaway success for modern horror and I truly hope the inevitable sequels don’t fuck with it’s power.

19. Avengers: Infinity War

Inevitable spoilers for the ending of Infinity War below:

The blockbuster to end all blockbusters, this culmination of ten years of the MCU was a huge triumph, somehow managing to juggle a billion characters jostling for screen-time via some savvy scripting and a focus on a core combination of story strands; namely Thor’s personal journey of revenge, the last stand at Wakanda, Tony’s crew misadventures in space and Thanos being ingeniously positioned as the protagonist. For a mainstream Disney movie to essentially end with the villain winning, there were perhaps no bigger statement this year than the words ‘Thanos Will Return’ at the end of the credits, cementing the fact that while we thought we had been watching a fun, superhero greatest hits package, we’d actually been watching the story of an ambitious, driven individual overcome the odds and claim his victory over all those pesky superheroes. Yes, his plan might be insane but you have to hand it to him; he did it. He actually did it.

This being a comic book movie - with at least a further ten years of comic book movies to come - obviously means that what is done can always be undone but still, this climax provided such a stark (pun intended) resolution that it left half of my audience in stunned silence and the other half in tears.

Outside of the game changing finale, the film has a lightning pace and a whole host of fun set pieces, characters colliding (hello Rocket meets Bucky) and a real sense of... at least occasional... intimacy that somehow doesn’t get completely swallowed up by the spectacle.

18. Annihilation

Now here is a fascinatingly original sci-fi movie that I just was utterly transfixed and terrified by. Much like Jonathan Glazer’s mesmerising Under the Skin, this jettisoned much of the source novel (outside of the general premise and characters) in favour of a stronger focus on the things that a visual medium can really excel at, namely atmosphere, tone and deeply disconcerting visuals/sound design. I quite enjoyed Jeff VanderMeer’s book but this feels like a much more authored and singular vision. Book weirdness has been replaced by movie weirdness and it actually ends up feeling like a true adaptation and if any book truthers are upset, believe me it could have been so much worse.

A group of scientists, led by a stoic Jennifer Jason Leigh, including Natalie Portman, Gina Rodriguez and Tessa Thompson, venture into ‘the shimmer’, a baffling electromagnetic field surrounding a crashed alien meteor. Each has their reasons for volunteering for this suicide mission and they are soon faced with the simply unknowable machinations of this particular alien biology, leading to some incredibly memorable encounters, not least of which is a nightmarish mutant bear attack. The practically wordless finale is something I WISH I could have seen for the first time on the big screen.

Eerie, haunting and a miracle of mid-budget, practically distribution-less filmmaking, this is one I can see revisiting many times over and I continue to be obsessed over anything Alex Garland is involved with.

17. Anna and the Apocalypse

Now here’s a surprise. And a delight. And a goddamn joyful burst of sunshine in a bleak bleak world. I went along to see this at the Frightfest Film Festival in August and boy did it deliver. It’s a (*huge breath*) super independent, low budget, Scottish, high school, coming of age, zombie comedy… Christmas… musical! That’s too many things, I hear you say! And normally you may be right but this film has so much heart, so many breakout stars, so many ingenious, human moments, that it transcends the hurdles of it’s genre mashup trappings and actually works dammit.

The film follows Anna (a wonderful, future star in the making Ella Hunt) who falls out with her father (Mark Benton, the heart and soul of the piece) when she tells him that when school finishes, she’d rather go travelling than go to university. Dad being Dad, he’s appalled at the notion and though he clearly has her best interests at heart, their relationship has been strained since Anna’s mother died and this conflict soon gets ugly. Joining her in this teenage angst are her friends; John (Malcolm Cumming), her best friend who is hopelessly in love with her, Steph (Sarah Swire – who pulls double duty as the film’s choreographer) a gay American outcast, Chris (Christopher Leveaux) a struggling filmmaker and Lisa (Marli Siu), Chris’ girlfriend and talented singer. Together, they butt heads with the panto villainy of the hilarious, scene stealing, scenery chewing Paul Kaye as the maniacal headmaster Mr Savage. Then of course, comes the ultimate spanner in the works… a zombie apocalypse.

As the film pivots from charming high school/slice of life melodrama to genuinely threatening zombie horror comedy, we cannot forget about the musical numbers (!), which are all pretty uniformly catchy as hell, singalong ready and really fucking integral to the entire emotional arc. You start out laughing as Anna sings her way to school completely oblivious to the zombie uprising happening behind her but by the time she’s singing a powerful duet with her father during the finale, there won’t be a dry eye in the house either. It’s a credit to the consistent tone and solid performances that the whole thing doesn’t descend into an overlong sketch and it’s the core relationships that make you care and give weight to the heavier moments in the second half.

It’s funny, smart, endlessly rewatchable and bound to be a new Christmas staple but above all else, it earns it’s emotional gut punches, marrying showtunes with real, life or death stakes that the film doesn’t fuck about with or ignore. People die here, sometimes unfairly but that’s the key to a great zombie flick. And if nothing else, you’ve got bad boy Nick (a stand out Ben Wiggins) shepherding his gang of idiot lads lads lads as they gleefully smash zombie heads in whilst singing “when it comes to killing zombies, I’m the top of my class!”.

The year’s best kept secret and a real hidden gem. Seek it out.

16. Black Panther

Ryan Coogler man… Ryan fucking Coogler.

Fruitvale Station and Creed are both five star movies to me and while this foray into the Marvel machine didn’t quite hit those heights, I think he did the best job he could have in blending his own style, ethos and interests with another chapter in the MCU – a production line rather famous for (until recently) stamping out individuality in favour of the bigger, uniformed picture. Sometime around Phase 2, we were getting somewhat bland creative choices like Alan Taylor (Thor: The Dark World) and losing auteurs like Edgar Wright (initially set for Ant Man) but after the success of the nutty, bold and gleefully anarchic Guardians of the Galaxy, it’s like the flood gates opened, Kevin Feige learned the lesson of diversity and taking bold risks in his directors and suddenly we had a mostly improvised Thor movie from idiosyncratic Kiwi Taika Waititi and then Black Panther.

Having introduced the character in Captain America: Civil War, this film was free to dive right in – and what a world we’re introduced to, one full of colour, afro-futurist designs and the grand daddy of Marvel villains (in my eyes) in the form of Coogler’s lucky charm, Michael B. Jordan, as Killmonger. Here was a man who believed himself abandoned and betrayed by his own people - his own family - who had massively different ideas about what Wakanda’s secretive technological advancements could do for other marginalised societies around the world. Of course, this being a comic book, his plan inevitably boils down to arming terror factions but in theory, it did address the imbalance and selfishness of the Wakandan people.

Outside of some dodgy super suit vs super suit CG fight scenes and some rather silly battle scenes involving rhinos, this was the most engaging and confident Marvel movie in some time, with the aforementioned B. Jordan and T’Challa himself Chadwick Boseman being supported by a whos who of incredible performers, from Letitia Wright and Lupita Nyong’o to Daniel Kaluuya and Andy Serkis.

15. The Square

This film killed me. It’s so very very dry in its humour and nearly every scene plays out in these often painfully long takes but it never fails in making every moment that bit funnier as a result, swinging right round from awkward to cringe back to hilarious again. From Christian’s (Claes Bang) repeated encounters with a very angry child to a deliriously off-kilter Elisabeth Moss fighting for control of a used condom, there’s a Curb-like immaturity to many of the sequences here that clash with the high brow, art world characters that populate it.

Not to mention one of the scenes of the year - period - as Terry Notary terrorises an elitist crowd of poshos, descending into performance art hijinks as he embodies a roaming Gorilla. Becoming genuinely threatening as the line between acceptable “art” and full blown menace gets increasingly blurred, the reactions (or lack thereof) from many of the crowd says much more than words maybe ever can.

14. Summer of 84

Another genre hit that I caught at Frightfest, this is the follow up to one of my favourite films of 2015: Turbo Kid. Directed once more by RKSS (the group moniker for François Simard, Anouk Whissell and Yoann-Karl Whissell) the film seems to operate, at first glance, in the same territory as their previous movie (aka as a horror influenced, 80s throwback) but it is treated with a completely different tone. Whereas Turbo Kid is ‘Mad Max on BMXs made like an 18 rated Saturday morning cartoon’, this plays like a much straighter Stephen King style pulp thriller.

The comparisons to Stranger Things are inevitable (group of nerdy teenage boys, suburbia, bikes etc) but unfair. This story doesn’t wallow in nostalgia, rather it is played like a film from the 80s rather than knowingly about the 80s. Yes there are references but they aren’t shoehorned in and it doesn’t take long for the central mystery to take centre stage. A little bit Rear Window, it follows these goofy teenagers (all unknowns to my eyes, all equally brilliant and believable) who begin to suspect that their homely, cop neighbour (Mad Men’s Rich Sommer) is actually a serial killer. It’s to the film’s credit that the outcome of this central question – is he or isn’t he – teeters back and forth so well for so long... that by the time it nosedives into a nasty, pulpy final act - taking the conventions you’ve come to expect and beating you into the ground with them - your heart will be so far in the back of your throat that you won’t notice. And again, another classy retro score from Le Matos helps tie this all together.

A genuine change of pace from RKSS, despite the continued 80s fixation, and further proof that they have many more tricks up their sleeve.

13. First Man

Along with Ryan Coogler, Damian Chazelle is the other wunderkid whose career has been producing nothing but five star films for me (well, Whiplash and La La Land; I haven’t seen his actual debut). And First Man, like Black Panther, is another one that gets really close to perfection but falls slightly short. Having said that, I definitely think I like First Man a lot more than the general audience consensus. People have complained about its insular, intimate focus on a rather dull, introverted lead subject and the nauseating treatment of space travel but I loved both of these elements.

This is less a film about triumphantly going to the moon and waving a flag around and more about a grieving man who is so out of touch with his own emotions that he a) speaks to his own children as if he’s attending a press conference and b) is hurting so internally that rather than talk to anyone about the loss of his daughter, he’d rather make the dangerous, unprecedented, insane mission to a cold, dead rock about as far away from anyone as you can get. That feeling - of wanting to shut yourself away from literally everyone - is universal. The actualisation of it - man goes to moon - is personal. And made history. And having the foresight to connect that emotional journey of Neil Armstrong with the otherwise feel-good true story of astronauts (and America!) winning the space race is genius.

Add to that compelling supporting turns from everyone from Claire Foy, Kyle Chandler, Christopher Abbott and Shea Wigham, another dynamite score from long-time collaborator Justin Hurwitz and some nerve shredding rocket based set pieces and what you have is a fresh direction for Chazelle to take and one that I think we be re-evaluated in the years to come when his filmography expands to much more than just jazz-infused dramas.

12. Phantom Thread

This film is just gorgeous. A riveting character study of a supremely difficult man, Phantom Thread portrays a constant battle for dominance in a troubled yet surprisingly cinematic relationship. Vicky Krieps and Lesley Manville give as good as they get from Daniel ‘this is my last film, I swear’ Day-Lewis, an undeniable acting giant who effortlessly breathes as much life into Reynolds Woodcock here as he did Daniel Plainview before, in his last collaboration with Paul Thomas Anderson.

Beautifully shot with another fantastic score from Johnny Greenwood, this one really feels like old school movie magic, like a lost melodrama from the 50s but with a modern mentality bubbling underneath, ready to blow it’s top at the mere, ear-splitting scrape of butter on toast.

11. Widows

Who’d have imagined the director of Hunger, Shame and 12 Years a Slave would be the one to team up with Gone Girl’s Gillian Flynn to deliver one of the best action thrillers of the year?

Adapted from the 80s TV mini-series and given a modern makeover, this film wastes no time getting right to the important stuff as Liam Neeson’s latest heist takes a deadly turn, leaving the widows of him and his crew to deal with the fallout of the failed money grab. Forced into desperate action to pay off their debts, Viola Davis leads this mismatched group of women into the belly of the beast. The cast in this thing is insane - even outside the main players (Elizabeth Debicki, Michelle Rodriguez, Cynthia Erivo) you have Colin Farrell, Bryan Tyree Henry (having one hell of a year), Daniel Kaluuya, Robert Duvall, Carrie Coon, Jacki Weaver, Garrett Dillahunt... not a weak link amoung them.

It’s clear that McQueen is a master storyteller and this is a supremely exciting and suspenseful thriller that if nothing else, adds fuel to my ‘Jon Bernthal shared universe’ fan-theory, haha. Imagine, if you will, that he plays the same character in this as he does in Baby Driver. In both films, he takes part in an opening heist and then disappears for the rest of the movie. In Baby Driver, as he’s walking off after a job well done, he says that if you don’t see him again, he’s probably dead. Cut to him joining up with Neeson on THIS job and promptly getting blown to pieces.

Boom.

COMING UP - star shaped earrings, reloading biceps, fish sex and a mutant pig

#top 20 #films of the year #films of 2018 #20-11 #a quiet place #avengers #infinity war #annihilation #anna and the apocalypse #black panther #the square #summer of 84 #first man #phantom thread #widows

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pepperoniwhirlwind · 7 years

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Questions :)

Tagged by: @snorlax-and-co ~ Thanks a bunch sweet pea for tagging me. xP I’m gonna have fun answering these~ 😄

Name: Tony. 😝

Nicknames: Tony, Pepperoni (that’s where my Tumblr name comes from. xP My family used to call me that since it rhymed with my nickname “Tony”). I was also called “Internet” in school because it sounded like my birth name. 😂

Zodiac Sign: Aries.

Height: Used to be 5′ 7″ before spinal surgeries. 0.0 Now I’m 5′ 5″. ^^’ Oh well, not much I can do about it now. -^^-

Orientation: Oh boy… depends on who you ask. That varies pretty widely in this system. xD But strictly speaking about myself, asexual would fit the best. -^^- If we got into romantic orientation, my answer would be Demi-Panromantic Asexual. ^^’ I feel like that confuses a lot of people, though… heck, asexual confuses a lot of people. xD I generally just don’t talk about my orientation (or gender for that matter) with most people because of this. 😂 My gender is equally confusing, and I use transguy for simplicity as well, same as I just use ace for simplicity with sexuality. xP Being a multiple has always made figuring this stuff out rather difficult, so I generally stick around umbrella terms with my identity to make things easier. -^^-

Nationality: American, but I have a lot of family in Germany and Scotland and have always wanted to live in the latter. 😊

Favorite Fruit?: Hmm… that’s tricky. I love watermelon and kiwi… I also love clementines, plums, cherries… it’d… be easier to tell you the fruit I don’t like actually. x’D Which is basically tomatoes. Ick~! I hate tomatoes. e~e They’re hardly fruit in my book!

Favorite Season?: Autumn/Fall~ 🍂🌰☕❤️️

Favorite Book?: I’ve only really been able to read one book recreationally as of late. ^^’ But it was a really good book, and I loved it! It was a book I bought on a whim, without really knowing if I’d like it or not, and I finished it, so… that says something I guess. x’D It’s called “Just Babies: The Origins of Good and Evil” by Paul Bloom. It’s a nonfiction book, with a focus on psychology, behavioral economics, evolutionary biology, and philosophy. It delves into studies on morality and humanity, particularly in infants and young children. I found it to be a fascinating read, and so did Reiji. xP Other than that, the only books I’ve read have been for school. ^^’

Favorite Flower?: Hmm, I think lilies and daisies are very nice~ 🌼 -^^- I know Honey loves sunflowers. 🌻

Favorite Scent?: I love fruity and woodsy scents. For instance, I have a lavender hand sanitizer that I really like, and a “Garden Rain” candle that’s to die for~ 💙 The tamer and more natural the smell, the more likely I am to enjoy it. -^^- Scents I can’t stand would be really sweet smelling ones (my sister likes to buy perfumes that smell like cupcakes and other sweet smells and it hurts my nose. Q~Q).

Favorite Color?: I like gray, blue, and green, in no particular order. Those would have to tie for my favorites. -^^- I wear those colors the most. I’m wearing a blue t-shirt and gray capris this very moment, actually. xD

Favorite Animal?: Pretty much all of these questions vary widely between who in the system would be answering, but personally, I love elephants. 🐘 I love a lot of animals actually, but I admire the elephant’s intelligence and capacity for emotion, so they get first place for now. I know Gillie would say bunnies, and Reiji loves cats. -^^-

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Cocoa?: Ohh~ hot cocoa is delicious… but tea is healthier, e~e and still tastes really good… I’m sorry hot cocoa, you just can’t win with all that sugar. ^^’ Maybe next time, buddy~

Average Sleep Hours?: Oh… goodness. Nonexistent? x’D This question in particular really goes all over the place depending on which alter we’re talking about here. Myself? I’m a mess. I don’t have average sleep hours. I sleep when I’ve earned it, and if I haven’t, I don’t get to sleep. ^^’ I’m trying to go easier on myself about that…

Cat or Dog Person?: Cat for me~ 😻 This changes with who you ask, though, same as the favorite animal. I know Mi-Suk loves dogs. xP I don’t have anything against them either, dogs are adorable~ 🐶

Favorite Fictional Character?: Oh, my… this one’s hard. I’ve been watching a lot of Steven Universe recently, and have fallen in love with basically all of the characters. xD Can I just answer all the crystal gems + some? 😂

Blog Created: Uh, I’m not sure on that one. I’m gonna guess around 6 months ago, though? ^^’ I’ve not been around for very long.

Number of Followers: 44. I’m actually surprised. Last I checked it was 32 or something. xD

When Did Your Blog Reach Its Peak?: Maybe a month or so ago? It’s slowed down since college is taking up more and more of my time. @~@ I hope to reach 50 someday, though. xP

What Made You Decide to Get a Tumblr?: For the same reason as Snorlax, to be honest. 0.0 We wanted to meet others with DID, and learn more about it in the process. We’d done a lot of research and soul-searching on our own, and figured it was time to start getting involved in a community and moving towards recovery. This is the first and only social media account I have that I actually tend to, and haven’t completely abandoned after making it. x’D So I’m pretty proud of that. -^^-

Why Did You Pick Your URL?: I talked about this a little bit towards the start of this monstrous post, but I guess I can talk a little more about it. xD “Pepperoni” was one of my nicknames as a kid, and “Whirlwind” was just a word that popped into my head as I was making my URL, so I went with it. x’D I basically always name my accounts on spontaneous ideas. I’m fashionably impulsive. 😎

Last Movie You Watched?: The last movie I watched was when I wrote a paper on “To Kill a Mockingbird” for my film class. -^^- It’s a classic, what else can I say?

Last Song You Listened To?: ”Here Comes A Thought/Flexibility, Love, and Trust” from Steven Universe. 😊

Last Book You Read?: I’ve been reading short stories and poems from my Literature textbook for my ENG 102 class. xP

Last Thing You Ate?: A bowl of cereal… yesterday. ^^’ I haven’t had time to eat today what with attending class, cleaning my room, doing hw, etc. I’ll eat eventually, same as sleep, so don’t worry about little old me. -^^-

If You Could Be Anywhere Right Now, Where Would You Be?: Under the stars, bundled up with my girlfriend~ ❤️️ We’ll try to find constellations, then just talk for hours once we realize we’re not very good at the former. xD

What Time Would You Travel to If You Could?: I would be wary to time-travel anywhere, but if I had to, I’d probably check out the future. See when flying cars will be mainstream, you know? xP

And that’s all the questions! That was a long one for sure, but I absolutely loved it. -^^- Sorry about the length, though. ^^’ It probably would have been shorter if I didn’t ramble, but I’m bad at not doing that. xD

Tagging: @sammyswolf, @the-galaxy-system, @systemofafault, @halfway-into-darkness, @greencresentmoon, @spruceneedlesandcoffee, @sadpartyboy, @multiple-myselves, and @disabilityhealth~ 😊 If anyone else wants to do it, please feel free! If you were tagged and don’t want to do it, that’s fine too. Take care, everyone~! and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day or night, wherever you are~ 💚 - Tony

#questions tag #snorlax-and-co #sammyswolf #the-galaxy-system #systemofafault #halfway-into-darkness #greencresentmoon #spruceneedlesandcoffee #sadpartyboy #multiple-myselves #disabilityhealth #*whew* that was a long one #but fun nevertheless!

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pentagon-supremacy · 5 years

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Don't wanna over do it with asks so you don't have to reply to all of them 🤭 but if ya wanna do mission 3 I'd like to know #11 and #15 (if you're too busy that's ok too 😁) - Sunny x

Hello!!! To answer your questions:

#11: what fruit do I associate with the members?

(I have genuinely never thought about this before so this is straight off the top of my head haha)

Seonghwa: strawberry, idk why exactly but I associate strawberry and the colour red with someone more on the serious sexy side

Hongjoong: orange, I associate oranges with summer and being really warm, needing something refreshing and sweet

Yunho: mango, no particular reason to be honest, maybe, again, cause they are sweet and they are very brightly coloured, like him

Mingi: Banana, he is very smiley, a happy bub, plus we have all seen THOSE photos/videos hard stans

Yeosang: Dragon fruit, this is so random but they really are a very underappreciated bit of fruit, as is Yeosang's talent (yes KQ I am looking at you)

Wooyoung: grapes (purple), i genuinely don't have an explanation for this one other than the fact I miss his purple hair a lot rn

San: Watermelon, he is very refreshing, plus a watermelon has a stark colour contrast from its outside to the actual fruit, a bit like San onstage and off

Johngo: Kiwi, I know apples is the obvious fruit choice and I genuinely have no reason for this one either but I don't wan't to be cliche okay 😂😂

#15: which member would I like to go on a long car journey with?

I am going to say Seonghwa because I have really bad travel sickness, specifically in cars, and would need someone relatively calm and more reserved to keep me relaxed. Plus, I am not (suprising from how much I have rambled) that much of a talker. I feel like I could be in comfort silence with him, which I like!

Hope your day has been well!

#ask #atiny anon #sunny

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scnapersonal-blog · 7 years

Text

I’ve been in a private-messaging circle-jerk with the Kiwis for the last several days which has grown to about 25 pages

In that time, I learn the most shocking thing: somebody had acquired SRS who should frankly be intellectually incapable of receiving it by differentially diagnostic exclusive criteria.

Cuntster was the one who had made the announcement with his usual gaslighting shtick.

His inability to convince me of the absence of these emotional needs aside, I’ve written a parting exposition to that group today regarding how they even conspoired to sabotage my college entrance, but ultimately, with a context critical not of psychiatry, but psychiatry’s politically contextual use (NobleGreyHorse then ignorantly rambled on about Scientology as if they’re going to save any Aspergians in the upcoming Transsexual Imperium):

: All I really care about is that he chose someone of blood which will spare me of the worst-case scenario fate for when I really need to leave Scotland in the upcoming transsexual imperialist-induced Asperger genocide in the future. Low-mid caste status under leadership of my brother down the line is a fine staying scenario for me. It's the best choice I could've made whilst I discuss with Lennihan this Friday rehab. No, I'm serious; I want to go to rehab (so basically the anti-Winehouse; well, she was a real Jew, lol) and I want it to work, I want my reliance on opiates to stop and I want to be able to stay off them long-term either with the assistance of opiate-substitutes with a view to coming off them all altogether in a tapered fashion as should've been the case all along. I need to contact my SW to see if he has obtained the original copy of my SQA certificate yet from the college which I left having forgotten to pick it up after they'd photocopied it (they didn't make their cues clear in the interview process; that, as far as I'm concerned, was purposeful until recovery of this materialises). If he has, I can look to January options after having recovered in rehab, or, if that takes longer, next year options; same course, same level. I want, as an ideal, a hum-drum, office-going life, uncaring of how that pays -- if it's barely the living wage, well, emphasis on living. A single person regardless of sex can live comfortably off about £14,000 a year. Whatever you have to say about work-shops to be condescending or whatever, surely you should be able to foresee that in my abilities post-recovery. We'll never meet eye-to-eye on this gender stuff. Let's make that clear. I'm presenting as female as we speak, however "poorly". This isn't about sexual gratification or blahblahblah with this recent spurning by someone I misinterpreted had romantic interest for me, I've kind of meekly rescinded into quasi-asexualism-by-choice/celibacy, not because I don't have romantic desires, but in acknowledgement of my compete relationship exceptionalism. I'm self-aware of that much. I wasn't out to get cock. Being female was an emotional need, regardless if you believe it or not. Being remotely close to where my sister already was in her early-20s; moderately well-paying admin work subsidiary to a human resource's department but still in supervisorial role of call-centre staff -- I can communicate quickly, bark commands, co-ordinate myself under-pressure, and think fast on my feet when stabilized but nevertheless pressured, if that makes sense, having managed cults on Skype being my closest informal experience but nevertheless imparting very useful skills in that area, would be nice. The tertiary talisman I seek in particular is a 2-year Business degree. Maybe that'll become a 4-year far down the line, part-time. It's not my intellectual incapaciousness that ever let me down contrary to Cuntster's ramblings. He was on the money with the emotional instability things and why that could be a red flag with respect to admissions. The main problem was that autism-centric support was condescending and frankly disrespective of my new identitarian needs. Autism being a poison to my identity is most certainly a viable maxim; it's an excuse bordering on ludicrous not only for my mother to keep pressuring me to stay on benefits for her own sake, but for Cuntster to patronize me with this garbage about 'tard-wrangling work-shops? I don't even think Mel's IQ estimate would have me performing that work, to be honest. That is the stuff of Down syndromic people and severe schizophrenics who, content with their executively dysfunctional state, understandably want to occupy their time, but completely inappropriate in my functional predicament, which is objectively a bit higher; mid-road between that and a neurotypical on a social level given the right conditions and accomodations. I just need to stop making stupid, random relationships, like with prison gangsters, or with random junkies at bus-stops, and exercise better judgement. How I move on from there is indeterminate and difficult, but I know I won't be applying to the same college twice; Cuntster has made it implicitly clear they're ex-NHS and are employed there now, and explicitly so with the conversations I overheard. Besides, with Beth Brownlee's condescending attitude towards neurological hypermales, a discrimination case should be launched against them regardless of my attendance or not, and will be pursued courtesy of my legal contact. That truly is toxic to your college's environment. Your Business department would benefit from an increased number of autists in attendance for a number of reasons I could cite but deep down, you know them all; you know the studies of female inefficiencies and failures in their integration into the work place; you know how the neurological female at its near-extremes is toxic enough, let alone to when it gets so close to mental illness that you're the inevitable result, @Cuntster. Indeed, since gender dysphoria is one anyway, perhaps an employment tribunal should be launched against you, for, if I remember correctly, you had tried, in your pursuit of a PhD., to get medically licensed, but were too unstable and so pre-emptively disbarred. Wise move on the end of the General Medical Council. Your abuse of sodium valproate has done nothing to change that, as demonstrated in your sadistic trolling callousness here, and your bribing of medical professionals in Britain to support the transsexualism diagnosis and SRS of a testable mental exceptional individual overseas for recommendation purposes (Dr. Haselgrove was one of the psychiatrists involved in Robert Wayne Stiles' SRS recommendations, apparently motivated entirely by spite). The internationalism of psychiatry, a Trotskyist influenced strand of thought owing to the work of the Frankfurt school leftists in the first instance, where catecholamine alchemy is used to lineraize and psychopathize the thought processess of otherwise creatively independent beings (see: North Korea in its natural state, where the only antidepressant is codeine and the only cure for schizophrenia is methamphetamine), shows itself in the permission of a verifiable exceptional individual to become transsexual entirely out of spite, whilst denying their intellectual superior of the same conditional predicament (and that's not a claim of graniodisty: verifiably, where Natalie is on the IQ bell curve, nearly everybody around her is smarter than her and as such he should've never been allowed to make the decision, let alone undertake it; I'm pretty mediocre, and that's probably the best thing going for me in support of proving my stability for transsexualism-ascension reasons) for similarly emotionally fickle reasons unbefitting of the supposedly objective spirit of a "science" psychiatry feigns to be, but fails to embody. Being nice, being superficially appeasing to the sensitivities of psychiatrists, being of a personality type that's likeable, are not objective criterion of psychiatric disorders, but human vulnerabilities in the stupidity of its nature Haselgrove, despite his/her (I'm still unsure tbh; I'm stuck between "masculine cisgender female" and "cryptic-intersex MAAB for a long time", but either is condescending enough) supposed superior intelligence, fell folly to in the final analysis of its endorsement of Natalie Sharp's transition to spite the Cde. and General Sopiya Jangeun, showing psychiatry not to be science so much as pseudoscience in its politically charged nature of use. Indeed, when we see Lennihan verifiably speak of his confidence in persuading either the college in question, or, as he put it, "a college", to grant me entrance to a course, either now or down the line, we see psychiatry's use in a more political than objectively academic, analytical, or scientific purpose; all the more so for the impetuous actions of Haselgrove, who had sought to use its agent Cuntster, whether that is himself, or an intermediary, to try and deconstruct my ego to nothing in what is nothing short of psychopathically backwards sadism which makes the North Korean 49s look enlightened by comparison. Conclusively, this has been a certain adventure in the exploration of the psychiatric lobby's use of individuals to wield political influence in the destruction of "undesirables" in very specifically targeted ways that could be evidenced by strong circumstantial evidence in all cases; the sudden "disappearance" of my record being one of them when my SW either fails to recover it, or MySQA comes back online to show, incorrectly, that I left school with nothing. That will have been a mixture of Fareal and Cuntster's work; it would reveal that their purpose was not to stabilize, help, reason, or whatever with myself, but purely in a long-haul sabotage to destroy, life-ruin, and everything suspected of every self-serving hypocrisy I could accuse psychiatry of engaging in, and evidentiary of psychiatry as a tool of hypocritical self-servitude, for that matter. That's whether Cuntster has tried to appeal to Haselgrove intermediarily, or, has acted in split-differentiated/disassociative fashion, or, used other means in the chain of command to otherwise sabotage my life. "Chukjibop" may well be a metaphor, but it encapsulates perfectly the stupendous efforts of the NHS to destroy the offspring of a paedophile simply because of the primary school logic of "ah dinnae like him that much naww"; a primitive, Scotland-bastardized version of Songbun. I was made to be representative of my father's misdemeanours on numerous occasions and denied attribution of my remorse in an emulation of the emotional torture sustained by the National Socialist Prisoner of War Hoess during his incarceration in the British political prison system. However, "chukjibop" may also literally encapsulate the spirit of the speed and the ardour with which an Aspergian must do things in the future in order to prevent all and any forms of neurotypical sabotage and be weary of their trust of them, using the destruction of my person at every level of my existence, even staging a junkie to meet at a bus stop to appeal to my addictions on an emotional level (I wouldn't be surprised if that was Cuntster's staging), as an example of why neurotypicals must be regarded untrustworthy by Aspergians and approached on wearily, diplomatically precautious and "ten-foot-pole" terms; they are not friendlies, but are inimical to you when their psychopathic masks slip from not appeasing their emotionally faux-sensitive pseudo-vulnerabilities of untempered rage, vengeance, aggression, negroidality, and other primitive emotions only attributable to neurotypical psychopaths, for which it is all they are capable. It is only Monday, and I ultimately have until Friday to go; I'll be semi-active in this PM, but would prefer if KiwiFarms contact went strictly off limits, as articles, particularly in admonishment of how Natalie has unethically been given surgical procedures beyond his intellectual ability to comprehend, and how the diplomatic discussions between myself, LagoonaBlue, and ash_and_stone were misrepresented by Cuntster, need to be composed, edited, and accordingly published by ASMG members of staff; the active ones are 1 editor, as the rest cannot presently be reached by myself due to managerial duress and overload. Even autistic self-run concerns need their own accomodations, y'know. I'm not that delusional of my "powers" or abilities. Consider my analysis of the way Cuntster has manipulatively tried to throw the burdensome onus on me for sabotages he himself had planned and expected me ton combat in chasing for random, at-best-insinuated happenstances like a headless chicken, whether that be the implicit threats on the Farms in collusion with others, or the explicit boasts between himself, Atesh and Brownlee, whether that was in misrepresentation of my politics to portray me incorrectly as too "extreme" for the college environment, or colluding with Brownless to retroactively manipulate past records to include more extreme incidents in-class than had ever occurred in previous iterations of the course. Brady is innocent, of course, far too overworked to have a clue of the conspiracy going on. This shall be copied directly to her, solely for her contemplative benefit, and also to see if she can figure out who Cuntster is and fire him (c'mon, a 6'7'', moderately tanned, post-operative transsexual with idiosyncratic racial features can't be that hard to spot), accordingly.

-- myself, PM sent yesterday, some time late last night

In closing, too, because they had, as we say in the transsexual community, “ascended” somebody with diagnosed mental insufficiency/intellectual disability:

Robert Wayne Stiles is an ethics case. Failing to score above the intellectual disability threshold on an IQ test at any stage in life -- something I can proudly say I've never done even on my worst mark-downs -- is exclusion criteria for surgery, where-ever you are and whatever money you bribe. It demands investigation.

To which end I pledged writing to various editorial councils about it. SRS is irreversible, but the minimal punishment for him should be group home incarceration, and the minimal punishment for those who had written his recommendations with his worst interests at heart should be disbarring from respective medical councils.

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