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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Thurs 18 March ‘21

The Zayn/ Zach Sang interview is happening, for real this time (fingers crossed)! It’s scheduled for tomorrow!! Zach promises to ask lots of NIL questions. And I really believe it’ll happen this time, Zayn OUT THERE doing promo-- he did multiple radio spots yesterday and answered every question thrown his way however stupid, even throwing caution to the wind and taking on the one they’re all always trying to avoid (though not so far to the wind as to choose any of the other options each of which would be a scandal in a different way- you can take the boy out of the media training but...)- “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “Niall is my favorite. How about that? There you go. Niall makes the best music. Yeah I will say that he makes better music than me. Yeah, I’m a Niall fan." About the grammys he said, “It's nothing to do with my own personal gain because even if they nominated me at this stage, I wouldn't even go and accept the award because it doesn't mean anything to me.”

Zayn talked about how he just wanted to do a song with Ingrid, he didn’t know what, “I didn’t expect it to be anything less than great but it was better than that… it hit the nail on the head” and “the fact that it’s an important message in the song makes it better.” He also said that he listens to a lot of country music and would really like to collab with Chris Stapleton. OKAY! TBH I can hear how that makes sense- amazing, I am manifesting this, come on universe! He also said that he will have new music this year in an old school R&B style though and that he would like to do live shows after the pandemic!! If I didn’t think he was just saying things I would be LOSING MY MIND right now but omg WHAT IF?? He said Khai is an easy baby, a good sleeper and eater, that he likes singing to her, and that Gigi is a “wicked mom” and “a big help,” LMAO (RIP Zayn, strangled by his baby mama). RCA posted a couple more gorgeous new Zayn pics, and Ingrid raves about how Zayn’s fans are “the sweetest most supportive people” and she feels “like I’ve been hugged by a million stars today.” Am I to understand that it’s possible for stans to treat a woman working with their fave with kindness?? My mind is REELING!

Hopefully Harry has had enough time to process having achieved a great industry honor, because yesterday brought another- he was on Beyonce’s insta! She included a picture of the two of them talking backstage in her big grammys wrap up post (plus he’s visible behind her in a shot of her winning- say what you will about the orange jacket it’s great for visibility!) And Lil NasX, perfect as always, has something to say about Harry too- he says “stop using me as a bait against harry styles. I love harry, if y’all fw what I wear say it without mentioning him,” and posts a couple examples of the types of tweets he means such as “we have GOT to stop acting like Harry Styles is a male fashion icon when lil nas x is right there.” Stop pitting girls against each other2k21! Nas gets it, bless him. Oh yeah and an old pap video from DWD set of Harry going into Olivia’s trailer posted which I ignored because it was so completely uninteresting but apparently that’s a BIG DEAL to some people. My bad! You’re so right, the only reason someone would possibly go into a room with a coworker is obviously that they’re fucking! They probably had sex right there while the paps were outside! I mean there were a bunch of other people visibly in the trailer too but whatever. Oh and as long as we’re doing nonsense catch up- he was seen with a FEMALE in Malibu the other night omgggg they’re clearly dating. Oh but actually it might have been Mitch! LMAO, but that’s okay we can have discourse about how they’re obviously fucking anyway cause like… dinner! TOGETHER!! The scandal.

Anyway Louis has a message for us, can you guess what it is? Yes that’s right-- “Hope everyone's doing alright!!” No matter how many times he says it, I still love the hello, thanks love (even if it was an afterthought and he was actually there to follow a crypto currency trading account). A bunch of old videos of him were posted today, including one from 2019 where Louis says about acting in his music videos “I wasn’t acting it’s who I am hahahaha” (ahhhhh I miss that laugh) and he’s on the wall of a THIRD MUSEUM! Louis is Art pt lll-- A Doncaster history timeline at the local museum has a big entry for Doncaster’s finest export, labeled “Louis Tomlinson Achieves Super Stardom”! Earlier entries were his face (hung up high) in the National Portrait Gallery and the science museum employee who saw their chance and took it by crediting a mushroom joke to him, a deep Video Diaries reference in the year of 2019; whoever that unknown louie is I hope they are having a very nice day every day, what a hero.

And a photodump from Zayn’s favorite member of OT4! Labeled DUMP (charming thank you) Niall posts an assortment of selfies (that sunglasses one! Ashe agrees, commenting “photo number four thank you very much”) and aesthetic pics and one tiny snippet of a piano tune, and speaking of photodumps from favorites of Zayn’s, a BUNCH of outtakes from Liam’s Grinder Tetu photoshoot just got posted and if I were a gay man I’m pretty sure I would have just had a heart attack, view with care they should probably be PG13.

#zayn #Niall Horan #Liam payne #louis tomlinson #Harry styles #the way Zayn is doing more promo for this song than he did for his album right? it looks to be organized by ingrid’s people #I realize the fandom conclusion from this is that it’s proof that his own label is fucking him over and that’s not impossible #it could be why. it could also be that it isn’t what he himself chooses to do but when he’s on someone else’s turf #he doesn’t get to make the call about what the promo strategy is or even that the timing is just better for him #but like there was one interview where they were like we don't know if we're getting ingrid or zayn! We'll see!#so you can tell it's a joint thing #18 mar 21 #ziall!!!!!#ziall rise 2k21 #zach sang #louis as art

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lifesuite · 3 years

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eddiemilkman · 3 years

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- Random Writing Prompt #1 -

Hey there! I’m pretty new to this platform and just trying to find my way around it for now, but I do wanna make a quick low quality post just to fill up a bit of space. I went on this website https://www.servicescape.com/writing-prompt-generator (This one here) and decided a fun thing to do when entering this cite was one of those funky prompts. So I did! And here's a portion of it. It’s late and I have a test tomorrow so I don't wanna stay up too long, but here’s a bit of writing to get a feel of what I’m all about. Hope you enjoy. (Also an important thing to note: I’m not a huge spelling or grammar buff so there’s probably mistakes and I’m sorry.)

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #862: ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛ ᴘᴏᴏʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ; ᴀꜱ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ-ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ. ʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ʙᴀꜱᴋᴇᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʜᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ (1/??) ᴘɪᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴄʜɪᴘ ᴇᴀᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴄʜɪᴘ ꜱᴇʟʟᴇʀꜱ

When we were young, my mother told me Gary was going to be a total tool. And I didn’t believe her at all. Gary was my friend so I couldn't imagine him growing older and not being good ole Gary. The Gary you could laugh and pig out with. The Gary who would holler and bark so loudly in class, the teacher would have to put him out in the hallway with nothing but his worksheet and pencil bag. He never acted like he was better than anyone else. When the washing machine would run busted, he would flip his shirt and wear it the next school day just like all of the rest of us.

That's why when he was accepted into that fancy-schmancy college for scarf wearers and coffee drinkers, it knocked me straight on my ass. I was happy, and everyone strung up a plastic smile at his going away party, but when he left everything was so...colorless. I wouldn’t deem it tool behavior, but it did solidify my mother's suspicion of him one day up and ditching me. He was my other half and then just dipped out on me for prestigious people who read Shakespeare and go to those cafes where there's wifi. He didn't even know those people! He left his comfortable little river to swim out through the mouth into an ocean of unfamiliar specimens. Sharks and dolphins, all aggressively fighting for a reward neither of us would daydream of.

We both sort of assumed we’d be stuck sweeping the Quick Mart or selling rolled joints to middle schoolers until the end of time. Middle schoolers would never stop loving the abuse of weak drugs and the Quick mart floors would never not have puddles of vomit and booze. That sounds more like a secure job than something you can go to college for. You can turn around one day and boom, the stock market or something crashed (?) I don't know much about business. Anyways yeah, you get my point. Pickle chips and fake cheese the color of a school bus will never go out of style. Stupid businesses that make those fancy indoor bike things will. What if everyone one day woke up and said “wow, I can always just run outside…”. Then what would happen? Those who went to college and got that stinky degree would be thrown out on the street, eating away their stress by scarfing down pickle chips!

I never thought of Gary as a pickle chip eater rather than a pickle chip seller. I mean when we would scribble down our future on printer paper it was incredibly detailed and surprisingly dull for children. The fortune we manifested during a game of M.A.S.H read to us as a mere fantasy. When we reached middle school it was clear we weren't going to live a life of golf courses and acceptable day drinking. We sort of realized this a few weeks into middle school, when we would be lined up against a brick wall while tall beefy police officers with their beastly dogs raided lockers for weed and patted us down for pocket knives. We were treated like deadbeats so we sort of expected it from ourselves and assumed the only way out was if one of us won the Powerball or….if the other one won the Powerball. I thought that was the plan… Man, being a failure alone sort of sucks come to think of it.

I wouldn't call myself a loser, just not a massive winner-ly type. I’m a goal-getter and I'll give myself that. I did land that job at Quick Mart restocking shelves, which is a little bittersweet now.

Gary always popped into my head every other week. I guess I’m just hung up on the stuff I never got to say. Why didn’t he suggest we attend the same college? Why when it came to our future planning was he loud, but in reality, disappeared so quietly?

“CHAS!” A voice echoed behind me. So sharp and stern, mean and crippling. Ugh...Lester. “You’ve been sweeping that corner for 5 minutes! Quit bleeding the clock and go do some actual work!”

I grip the handle of the broom and grunt. Fucking Lester. If there's anyone from high school I didn't want to land a job with, it's that joker. He was scrawny in size but a huge talker. It's crazy how the smallest of people always squawk the loudest. I do what he says because he’s a loudmouth and will probably rant and rave about me to the boss about how I leave all of the work on his tiny frame and he needs someone “competent”. Well, I need someone who doesn't act like a total ass-hat, but my needs haven't been accommodated yet so neither will his. I began toying around with some boxes of wafers on the shelf, just straightening them for no good reason. Sedated by boredom, I find my mind slowly drifting into other places. Where was he? Was he skipping around a college campus, holding onto his textbooks that he had to pay for?! Who pays for his pencils and books and highlighters? I bet he has that little bottle of white paint you slap over pen mistakes because your assignment is just too important for there to be scribbles on.

“GET THE HELL OUTTA 'HERE!”

My body suddenly jolts at the commotion from over near the cash register. Lester was using his thin little arms to violently push a grey round figure into the glass door. The man stumbled over his torn sneakers and gripped the doorframe. Lester used his small fist to pound on his fingers while simultaneously kicking him in the thigh. Once the man let go, Lester used the collar of his worn bomber jacket to throw him out onto the sidewalk. He shuffled from the door with hesitation, breathing like a wolf.

“Damn” I whimper meekly through the gaps of the shelves.

“That’s it, we’re closed.”

“Uh, Larry’s not gonna-”

“That meth head is gonna freak the hell out again. That joker comes in high as a plane every other day, and asks me if he can use his ‘coupons’ which I’ve told him a trillion times are fake and obviously printed out on a home computer-”

“Let him have it”, I squeak “he’s probably just really hungry”

“An iced tea, Slim Jim, and a loaf of bread should fill him up just fine! He treats shopping here like its extreme couponing. The worst part isn't the fake-y coupons, but when he wigs the hell out on me when I deny him. You weren't here when he sprayed me with fake cheese?”

“I think I was late that day”

Lester rolled his eyes.

“‘Course you were. God forbid your 6-foot ass came and protected me from crazy meth addicts.”

“Can we give him the spoils in the back?” I ask as I make my move over to the back room. The pile of “spoiled” food had built up to a mountain of American waste. I was ready to cut a slice into my unofficial take-home pay to get a hungry guy some food. I mean at least he was crafty and wasn't trying to come to rob the place.

“He’s gonna come in here with a gun one of these days.” I from the back room. “And get sent to the joint for a 3 dollar slim jim and pack of Oreos?” Lester strolls in behind me.

“3 square meals a day...” I mutter. Prison never sounded so bad. Free food, chess, television if you’re good. I was a good guy. I'd probably be on kitchen duty or do something fun.

“Well, I wouldn't put it past him...that crazy weirdo”

*Yah so this is the basic rundown of how I write and what maybe most of my posts will look like. As you can see its a umm....*ahem* easy read? I’m not that artistic with my writing sorry. Maybe ill improve one day.*

#writing prop #writing #writing prompt #fiction #short story #writing promp #why did i say prop oh my lord

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letterboxd · 4 years

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Survival Mode.

In ten recent coming-of-age films, Ella Kemp finds the genre thriving—and looking very different than the 1980s might have predicted. Film directors and Letterboxd members weigh in on the specific satisfactions of the genre, especially in a pandemic.

There have been jokes, some more serious than others, about the art that will come out of this time. How many novels about a fast-spreading disease are you betting on? Will Covid-19 be better suited to documentary or fiction? But the art I’m most looking forward to, and revisiting now, is the art made about teenagers going through it.

Physical school attendance, so central to the John Hughes movies of the 1980s, is up in the air for so many. Sports practice, theater clubs, mall hang-outs; the familiar neighborhood beats of a teenager’s life are more confined than ever. All of us have had to tweak our reality to make the best of invasive changes forced upon us during the pandemic. In a sense, it feels like we are all coming of age.

Teenagehood, though, is a particularly tricky time of transition, and we don’t yet know the half of how the pandemic is going to impact today’s young adults—and, by association, tomorrow’s coming-of-age films. But in the last two years alone there have been enough brave new entries in the genre, about young people so enlivening, that there’s both plenty for young film lovers to lose themselves in, and plenty for us slightly older folks to watch and learn from.

So I sought out ten recent coming-of-age films (and several of the directors responsible) to see what these stories teach us about teenagers, and how we might empathize with them. The list—Jezebel, Beats, Zombi Child, Blinded by the Light, Selah and the Spades, The Half of It, Dating Amber, Babyteeth, House of Hummingbird and We Are Little Zombies—is by no means exhaustive. But it allows us to look at several things.

Firstly, that the genre is thriving, considering these titles barely scratch the surface. Secondly, these ten films look a whole lot different than their 1980s counterparts. Six are directed by women. Four tell queer stories or, at least, feature queer characters in a prominent subplot. Seven tell stories about Black people, Asian people, Pakistani people. Only three are from the US.

And: they’re really good. They understand teenagers as angry, energetic, passionate, confused, desperate and deeply intelligent beings, echoing the nuances that we know to be true in real life, but that can often get watered down on the screen.

Blinded by the Light (co-written and directed by Gurinder Chadha) We Are Little Zombies (written and directed by Makoto Nagahisa) Beats (co-written and directed by Brian Welsh)

The protagonists in these first three films use music to feel their way through panic, brought on by both internal and external circumstances. Screaming another’s lyrics, furiously composing their own anthems, dancing along and sweating out their fear to the beat, the ongoing beat, and nothing more. It’s salvation, it’s release—when you’re left with your own thoughts, the only way to fight through them is to drown them out.

Music acts as a source of enlightenment in Blinded by the Light, directed by Gurinder Chadha (who made 2002’s coming-of-age sports banger Bend it Like Beckham). In Thatcher’s Britain, Pakistani-English Muslim high schooler Javed discovers the music of Bruce Springsteen, and his world bursts wide open. The wisdom and fire of the Boss helps Javed to make sense of his own frustrations; that the film is based on a real journalist’s autobiography makes it all the more potent.

Meanwhile, in Beats, a real-life law enacted in Scotland in the 1990s temporarily banned raves: specifically, the gathering of people around music “wholly or predominantly characterized by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats”. As the UK struggles to contain a youthful, exuberant new counter-culture, the central characters face what it means to enter adulthood. The answer to both: a forbidden rave.

“I have to say, there’s probably no such thing as teenagers without complicated emotions,” We Are Little Zombies writer-director Makoto Nagahisa tells me. The Japanese filmmaker—who loves the genre, known as ‘Seishun eiga’ in Japan—wrestles with the frustration and hopelessness of the world by giving his film’s four orphaned teens the tools, and the permission, to find solace in something other than their everyday life. Following the deaths of their parents, the quartet create their own catchy, cathartic, truth-bomb music; it’s an instant hit with kids across Japan, but the adults miss the point, of course—that the cacophony of superstardom is filling the silence of their mourning.

Nagahisa-san’s film is named after a fictional 8-bit Nintendo Game Boy game that the main character is addicted to. “I used to get through my day relatively painlessly by pretending I was a video game character whenever bad shit happened to me,” he explains. Teenagers “are constantly feeling crushed by reality right now… I want them to know that this is a valid way to escape reality. That reality is just a ‘game’. I want them to know they don’t need to face tragedies, they can just survive. That’s the most important thing!” Who else needed to hear that right now?

Jezebel (written and directed by Numa Perrier) Zombi Child (written and directed by Bertrand Bonello) Selah and the Spades (written and directed by Tayarisha Poe) House of Hummingbird (written and directed by Kim Bo-ra)

Our next four films turn to technology, mythology, hierarchy and education to animate their protagonists’ lives with a greater purpose. In Jezebel, nineteen-year-old Tiffany finds her way through mourning with a new job, earning money as a cam girl and subsequently developing a bond with one of her clients. There’s a magnetic aura, one that harnesses grief and turns it into something more corrosive as this teen puts all her energy into it. Similarly there’s mysticism in the air in Zombi Child, in which Haitian voodoo gives a bored, heartbroken teenage girl a new purpose as she searches for a way to connect with the one she lost—and with herself.

Selah and the Spades and House of Hummingbird understand the third-party saviour as more of a structure, that of a school or an inspiring teacher. Selah finds herself by doing business selling recreational drugs to her classmates in a faction-led boarding school. Nothing mends a sense of aimlessness like power. This same framework lets Hummingbird’s Eun-hee, a schoolgirl in mid-90s South Korea whose abusive family invest their academic focus in her useless brother, search for love and find connection in her school books—and from the person who’s asking her to read them.

The films on this list are not perfect; some might be criticized for specifically following a formula, the tropes of the coming-of-age film, a little too well. Jezebel lets its protagonist rise and fall with familiarity, while Selah suffers the consequences of her extreme actions, and even Eun-hee reckons with a few recognizable pitfalls. But still, the fact that these films exist is “innately radical”, says Irish writer-director David Freyne, whose queer Irish comedy Dating Amber is covered below. The filmmaker describes the coming-of-age genre as mainstream, but in the best possible sense: “It’s a broadly appealing film,” he says.

This is why, to see these stories reframed with minority voices, with queer voices, is so quietly revolutionary. “The more you see them, the more broadly we see them being enjoyed—the more producers and financiers will realize these stories don’t have to be niche just because they happen to frame a minority voice. Everyone can enjoy it.”

Film journalist and Letterboxd member Iana Murray, a coming-of-age genre fan, echoes Freyne’s thoughts. “Representation is absolutely not the be-all end-all, but I’d love to see more coming-of-age films that reflect my experiences growing up as a woman of color,” she says, before introducing what I’d like to call the Rashomon Effect. “I see it as like one of those films that tell the same events from different perspectives, something like Rashomon or Right Now, Wrong Then,” she explains. “A story becomes even more vibrant when told through a different set of eyes, and that’s what happens when you allow women, people of color, and LGBT people to create coming-of-age narratives.”

Dating Amber (written and directed by David Freyne) The Half of It (written and directed by Alice Wu) Babyteeth (directed by Shannon Murphy, written by Rita Kalnejais)

Which brings us on nicely to our last three: wildly different titles, each with young protagonists at war with themselves, trying to make sense of their bodies and minds as best they can. In this context, companionship is everything. Finding a platonic soulmate in Dating Amber, a sexual awakening in The Half of It, a first love to make a short life worth living in Babyteeth. Each film is directed with a verve and passion that you know must be personal.

The story of a frustrated boy in the closet in Dating Amber aches with care from Freyne behind the camera, while Alice Wu directs Ellie Chu, the main character in The Half Of It, with patience and the kind of encouragement that quiet girls who live a life between two cultures are rarely given. And with Babyteeth, Shannon Murphy returns Australian cinema firmly to the center of the movie map, with a quintessentially Australian optimism and sense of humor, which Ben Mendelsohn called “delightfully bent”.

These perspectives are specific to each teen, but the intensity transcends genres and borders. It manifests musically, verbally, visually, aesthetically. These teens connect with their favorite music and means of entertainment, but also simply to their favorite clothes and accessories—blue bikinis and green wigs, red neck-scarves and floaty white dresses. These details give the characters ways to reinvent themselves while standing still, which certainly feels apt for a life lived, for now, at home.

‘Pretty in Pink’ (1986), written by John Hughes and directed by Howard Deutch.

Many argue that the coming-of-age genre peaked with John Hughes, who defined the framework in iconic 1980s films that have his stamp all over them, whether he wrote (Pretty in Pink, Some Kind of Wonderful) or also directed them (The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Sixteen Candles). Hughes’ world view was of a specifically suburban, white, American corner of the world, which he filled with misfits and ultra-hip soundtracks. “John Hughes was to the genre what The Beatles are to rock and roll,” confirms Letterboxd member Brad, maintainer of the essential coming-of-age movie list Teenage Wasteland.

After Hughes, the genre tumbled, Dazed and Confused, into the 1990s—notable voices include John Singleton with his seminal Boyz n the Hood, and Gus Van Sant’s My Own Private Idaho and Good Will Hunting. This was also the decade of Clueless, which informed the bright, female-forward fare of the 2000s, like Mean Girls, The Princess Diaries and the aforementioned Bend it Like Beckham. The last decade has seen new American storytellers step into Hughes’ shoes, including Greta Gerwig (Lady Bird and Little Women), Olivia Wilde and the writers of Booksmart, and the autobiographical voices of Jonah Hill (mid90s) and Shia LaBeouf (Honey Boy, directed by Alma Har’el).

It’s interesting to note—whether it’s the 1860s or the 1980s—that many coming-of-agers from the past decade take place in an earlier period setting. Social media has demanded the upheaval of entire lives, but it seems some filmmakers aren’t yet ready to grapple with its place on screen.

The audience, on the other hand, is far more adaptable. The way we’re watching coming-of-age films has shifted, and it’s more appropriate for the genre than we could have imagined. On the last day of shooting Dating Amber, Freyne recalls one of the young actors asking, “So, is this going to be on Netflix or something?” This is when cinemas were still open.

“That’s often how younger people are devouring content now,” Freyne reasons. His film, in the end, was snapped up by Amazon (a US release date is yet to be announced). “It’s creating a communal experience with the intersection of social media: live streams, fan art, daily messages… It’s made us feel incredibly connected, moreso than I think we would have got with a cinematic release.”

Streaming platforms also cater to one key habit of a younger film lover: the rewatch. The iconic teen films of the 80s embedded their reputations thanks to the eternal allure of the Friday night video store ritual, and constant television replays. These days, it’s only with a film finding a home on Netflix, on Amazon or on Hulu, that a younger person (or, in times of global crisis, any person) can both financially and logistically afford to devote themselves to watching, again and again, these people onscreen that they’ve immediately and irrevocably found a connection with.

It’s always felt hard to be satisfied with just one viewing of a perfect coming-of-age film—observe how many times Iana Murray has logged Call Me By Your Name. What is it about the slippery, universal allure of the genre? It’s possibly as simple as the feeling of being seen in the fog of intergenerational confusion. Says Nagahisa-san: “Grown-ups think of teenagers like zombies. Teenagers think of grown-ups like zombies. We’re never able to understand what others are feeling inside.”

“The reaction is always emotive rather than intellectual,” adds Freyne. “There’s something quite visceral and instinctive about coming-of-age films; it’s an emotional experience rather than an analytical one.” That emotional experience is tied up in the fact that we often experience coming-of-age movies just as we ourselves are coming of age, establishing an unbreakable connection between a film and a specific period in our lives. MovieMaestro Brad explains it best: “There is a bit of nostalgia in a lot of these films that take me back to my younger days, when life was simple.”

But that’s not to say only those coming of age can appreciate a coming-of-age film. On her favorite coming-of-age film, Mike Mills’ 20th Century Women, Murray explains, “It doesn’t see coming-of-age as exclusive to teenagers, because that process of growth is really about transition and change.” (In a similar vein, Kris Rey’s new comedy I Used to Go Here, in select theaters and on demand August 7, meets Kate Conklin, played by Gillian Jacobs, in a sort of quarter-life-crisis, needing to grow down a bit in order to grow up.)

Natalia Dyer in ‘Yes, God, Yes’ (2019), directed by Karen Maine.

There is endless praise, conflict and wonder to be found in the ten films mentioned above—and all the ones we haven’t even gone near (Karen Maine’s orgasmic religious comedy Yes, God, Yes, now available on demand in the US, deserves an honorary mention, as does Get Duked!, Ninian Doff’s upcoming stoner romp in the Scottish Highlands). The thing about this genre is it’s raw, it’s alive, and it’s always in transition. Just when you might think it’s gone out of fashion, it emerges in a new and fascinating form. And yet, there are still so many filmmakers who haven’t tackled the genre. I asked my interviewees who they’d like to see take on a story of teens in transition.

“I’d love to see Tarantino’s take on a coming-of-age tale,” says master of the genre himself, MovieMaestro/Brad. Murray gives her vote to Lulu Wang, saying, “I love the specificity she brought to The Farewell, I think it would transfer well to a genre that needs to escape clichés.” Freyne, meanwhile, wants to see if Ari Aster might have another story about young people in him. Maybe something a bit less lethal next time.

Ultimately, “you write from empathy, not from experience,” says Freyne. I think the same goes for watching, too. It won’t be tomorrow, and it might not be this year, but eventually, the world will emerge from Covid-19. What will we have learned from the films that we watched while we were waiting? From the sadness, the angst, the determination, the rage and the passion?

Nagahisa-san already knows, and his advice is everything we need right now: “You don’t need others’ approval of who you are, as long as you understand and approve of yourself. Do whatever pops up in your mind. Live your life without fear or despair. Just survive.”

Related content

See where most of the recent releases mentioned here are virtually screening, in our Art House Online list.

Shannon Murphy talks to us about Babyteeth, and shares a list of her favorite Australian films.

Makoto Nagahisa’s 25 favorite teen movies

David Freyne’s 25 favorite LGBTQIA+ films

Growing Pains: The Ultimate Coming of Age Movie Challenge

(Happy) Queer Coming of Age Movies

Coming of age—but make it diverse

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justhereforfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Lost - Logan x MC

Angst, approximately 2, 500 words.

Hi. This is my first ever fanfiction, so any feedback is welcome! Although I haven't posted any fanfictions on there other than this one, I will likely branch out from Choices on Wattpad and if you are interested in that, maybe you could look at my account? It's @ GalaxyGirl20671! Again, feedback including constructive criticism is welcome, and I hope you like it! I think it helps 'set the mood' if you do listen to the song, but in no way do you have to! I hope you enjoy. 😊

I know I didn't use every lyric but that's because I didn't want to use repeated lines in case it became repetitive.

Song - Lost by Freya Ridings

*I know I use 'Ellie' in this instance but it just represents the MC - to me, it feels a bit detached to use 'Y/N' - but feel free to self-insert if you wish! :)*

'Standing on the platform, watching you go...'

Ellie stood at the turn - in at the end of her block, watching as a sleek, black-striped yellow sports car slid out of its slot into the street. Almost as easy as it had come into her life, she supposed, on that less-than-fateful day. But she knew that that was not the case, just as she knew the boy whose spark plug necklace was slipped under her t-shirt, guarding her rapidly beating heart.

'It's like no other pain I've ever known'

That same heart ached at even the concept of him leaving her side, yet somehow there the reality was painted, harsh and monochrome against the bold, colourful canvas of what had been her hopes and dreams for the two of them. Although with him, those dreams could have been driving around the city or sat in some reincarnation of his loft eating takeout from Kelso's, and it would still make her feel as though she was graduating from a hundred- no, a thousand - Langstons. Her sense of loss was so strong it manifested itself as physical pain - a common symptom of undergoing stress, she seemed to remember from one of their late-night 'study sessions', the knot in her stomach tightening at the fond, soon-to-be-bittersweet memory.

'To love someone so much, to have no control...'

Ellie could still feel her whole body pulse gently, perhaps not entirely from her emotions (although those threatened to overwhelm her), but from the intensity and fierceness of their last embrace before he left. That had been out of her hands, he had wanted to keep her safe - but her father pulling a gun on him only pushed the situation further out of her grasp. It seemed she had come full circle - from her cop father controlling her life to her breaking free, her forgiving him again, and back to him commanding the one thing she loved beside him; the boy with the car. Couldn't she have one untarnished goodbye out of the many to remember him by, without someone accusing them of something? Ellie's dad had only been trying to protect her, and she knew that - but her first everything had been putting HER first as well, being noble for Gods' sake! Even if it didn't feel like it to her...

'You said "I wanna see the world", and I said "Go"'

The look on his face had told Ellie one thing, yet his mouth spoke another. He had known she had plans for the future, and to him, he was getting in the way of those. With his words, he gently retracted himself from her life. He had been 'just some kid you caused trouble with in high school' to her father undoubtedly, but in Ellie's heart, she knew he was so much more. However, while he was saying that, his arms drew her in and she had melted into his touch. The sound of his car engine seemed to call out decidedly that his words had signified his true intentions.

'I think I'm lost, without you'

Without him, Ellie didn't know who she should be anymore. He was the one who brought her into this life, who brought out this side of her. Every time she had been brave, or confident, or even remotely bold, it had been because of him, directly or otherwise? Whoever thought she'd dance at a secret warehouse rave? Or pass her driving test? Or even talk to Ingrid as an equal in any way other than academics? Going back to her old self felt as difficult as trying to separate water from the sand without filter paper. "Be the real you. the one that was always waiting to come out" he had said. She wanted to so badly, but how could she do that when so much of that person was based on him? It was just like Colt had said - every time she gets behind the wheel she will remember them and the year she had spent.

'I just feel crushed without you'

Ellie's emotions weighed down on her like the heavens on Atlas the Titans' shoulders. Whenever they had been driving or executing one of Kanaeko's master plans with the rest of the MPC, she had enjoyed - no, loved - his company, yet now she realised that once the others were gone he had been the one she needed the most of all of them. And now he was about to be gone, leaving her with a stolen car that Toby wasn't here to patch up, and the memories of fleeting touches long since past.

'I've been strong for so long, I never thought

how much I needed you'

Even when he had left after teaching her to fight, Ellie had not felt it with the same note of finality that this moment held. She had always thought there was a possibility - however small - of seeing him one last time. And now, even though she wished it desperately, Ellie knew he wasn't coming back. This time, too much was on the line.

'Strangers rushing past, just trying to get home.'

In the not-so-far distance, Ellie could hear the steady stream of LA traffic that the boy she loved would soon enter. She wondered - would they know a wanted street racer was cruising down the freeway amongst them? That that drive was breaking two hearts and would damage at least one more before the night was out? Nobody knew where he was going, however, not even Ellie. Her best guess was back to Detroit, but Ellie guessed that not even he knew where he would wind up tomorrow morning. Even that one suggestion could have been some sort of plot to make sure she didn't worry about him (although she would nonetheless) or found where he was. He knew her better than anyone, after all. She would only have agreed to Mona's terms if he had reiterated them.

'But you were the only safe haven that I've known'

Those words were true enough. Despite her father claiming to support her in everything she did, the one thing Ellie never knew she wanted had been right under her nose, kept away from her by the one who 'only wanted her to be happy'. Sure, Ellie understood that Grand Theft Auto wasn't exactly a conventional - or indeed safe- pastime, but not teaching her to drive only meant that once Ellie wanted to learn, she was dangerously inexperienced anyway! And look where that got her. With her driving license, of course (since Ellie, as her dad loved to brag, "succeeded in everything she put her mind to"), but with her friends a now orphaned teen with what seemed to be a world (or at least city) domination problem, a hardened criminal currently in hospital, soon to be jail with a bullet through her side because of her, and two mechanic - slash racers on the run, and a boyfriend (well, would-be, since they never defined the relationship, but an ex now involuntarily)being forced by her dad to leave the country at gunpoint.

The boyfriend who had taught her how to drive. Who had cared about her over the safety of his crew, or even being put in jail. Who had guided her through her first... everything, really. First kiss, first car, first heist - whenever Ellie needed him, he was there. And most importantly, she could say next to anything around him and he would listen and give advice without judgement. Even though she had missed the comfort of her bed whilst residing in his loft, that boy was - and Ellie had a feeling always would be - where her heart lived.

'Hits me at full speed,

Feels like I can't breathe

And nobody knows'

As soon as the key had turned in the ignition, the Devore roaring to life, Ellie's breath had been knocked out of her as fast as if her car could have accelerated from 0 to 100 in a nanosecond. All she wanted to do was scream and howl at the sky, to God, to anyone who would listen to try and get them to rewrite fate so that they could be together. She wanted to cry to Riya, but she knew that her best friend no matter how much they had in common would just take her to get ice cream and tell her 'these things heal in time'. She wanted to collapse at her mothers' feet as she frequently did in her dreams, but the tightness of the heirloom bracelet at her wrist reminded Ellie that that was impossible.

Most of all, however, she wanted her fathers' understanding; that she loved and had lost just as he had all those years ago. She remembered when her dad had met him for the first time properly, the anger he had wielded towards the boy who had put her in so much danger - who had saved her from it just as many times. The disbelief on his face as she explained that she loved this 'bad boy', this 'adrenaline junkie' as she was sure her father addressed him in his mind. How the initial shock had moulded into fury at whatever 'trick' he was sure this criminal must have worked on his daughter. No, Ellie was sure he wouldn't understand for at least the next week or so.

'This pain inside me

My world is crumbling

I should have never

Let you go'

The first tear of what was to be many rolled down Ellie's already mascara-striped face as she fell to her knees. Her dad looked at her in surprise as she screamed in the middle of the street, and could see an identical tear roll down the face of the boy inciting it as he drove past the old man, wincing in guilt as the sound of his ride or die's anguish reached his ears. Had it maybe been the wrong thing to do? Had he maybe... underestimated the intensity of the teenagers' emotions? Undoubtedly, but he had to protect his daughter from going down the wrong path.

Ellie's jaw tightened as her father dared to look vaguely upset at the situation. He was the one worsening it after all. It was almost shameful of him to have judged her (literal) partner in crime so quickly. After all, when had he ever hurt her with bad intentions at heart? Ellie realised that her anger was not directed towards her father, but rather towards herself for allowing this to happen. She couldn't have stopped him leaving, but she could have made sure they were farther out of her dads' line of sight so they would have a chance of a 'proper' goodbye, whatever that was; the one year had spent with him and the crew had felt far more meaningful than any of the 18 she had gone through alone, to the point where the mere thought of goodbye was heartbreaking. And she had simply let him be treated in that way by her kin?

'I've been strong for so long, I never thought

How much I love you'

Earlier in the evening, once she had dispelled all of her nervous energy, her mind had been solely focused on bringing Shaw and The Brotherhood down. But once that had come to pass, her emotions had hit her like a ton of bricks. The Mercy Park Crew had no reason to stick around now Teppei was dead; it was time to find a new gang. For Colt and Mona, leaving had not been a choice. The latter's injury and the formers' determination to build his name in LA's criminal underworld saw to that. Saying goodbye to each of them had been no easy task, and she had half expected him to have skipped town already, to save them both the heartbreak of saying goodbye. But that had not been the case, as he had stepped out of the darkness to say one final farewell.

Tears had soaked Ellie's skin at the words he spoke, as they did now as he drove away. Her guard had been up during the heist, channelling her anger and determination to have Jason put behind bars, along with Detectives Wallace and Hester. But when she was around the crew, those she considered close enough to be family, Ellie had broken down. She had been fierce and brave then; that had been to cover up her paralysing fear of losing them again. Of losing herself again. His goodbye had hurt the most, like a slap to the face, short and painful but with lasting effects.

Throughout the brief conversation, their relationship had played through her mind; not just from her perspective, but what it must have been like for him. How on that day, what seemed to be casual flirting and general friendliness must have been tiptoeing through a minefield for him. A single wrong move and the whole crew could be placed at risk. The initial shock and rush when driving from the cops leading to the beginning of their relationship. How in each moment Ellie fell deeper in love with him, he was doing the same, only that feeling of freefalling was paired with the guilt of tricking her, and the fear of letting her in at the risk of his emotions and her safety - concerns which were not calmed by certain complications they had run into along the way. This myriad of memories only emphasised the emptiness Ellie felt in her heart now.

'Standing on the platform, watching you go.

You said, "I wanna see the world" and I said "Go"'

As Ellie felt the tarmac of the sidewalk dig into her knees and tears roll down her face, she watched as the car she knew so well turned into the next street. When the car swung around, she caught a glimpse of its driver, his eyes trained on hers, smiling weakly through tear-filled eyes. Regret was written undeniably in his gaze, but he was trying to put on a brave face for her to remember him by. Trademark. A thought that once would have put a grin on Ellie's face now caused her to sob in sorrow, grieving the little moments that comfortably passed between them that she was sure could not be replicated with anyone else. She shot him back a brief smile, equally bittersweet in the less than perfect moment, and the last words he said to her echoed in her mind.

"Give 'em hell, troublemaker"

His car finally moved out of sight, and Ellie suddenly felt the repressed need to call out for him spring out in full force; now that her father had walked inside she felt less pressured to avoid the elephant in the room, at least out loud.

"Logan..." she choked out to no one in particular, as she rubbed her road marked knees the way he would have done and slowly got up.

Later, after she had deleted their messages from her phone and laid in her bed in silence, she took off the necklace from around her neck and placed it on the adjourned pillow. "Logan." Ellie whispered to herself as if in the affirmation that he had been real.

She had been lucky to know him. Too bad there wasn't a next time to be ready for.

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boned-spy · 4 years

Text

TF2 Secret Santa 2019!

Merry Christmas/Smissmas @trashiny-draws!!! I was your Secret Santa this year! I heard you really love Scout and specifically fanfics of Scout so I did my best to make sure you got exactly that this holiday!

You offered so many great prompts to pick from so I decided to mash some together for you! I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful day of celebration!

Also, your Secret Santa was super enjoyable for me to write so don’t feel bad for wanting so much Scout content! You deserve it, man! Also, I apologize if my writing is bad. It’s been years since I last wrote these characters.

Prompts I mashed together: “Takes place right after End of the Line”, “Scout is a Dumbass™ and needs help while stuck in the snow”, “Scout completely forgot about Sniper- BIG UH OH TIME”, “Team bonding and being a loving murder-family”, “Dad!Spy”(Strongly hinted)

_ -_-_-_-_-_

“Yo, hardhat! You drifting off on me? I didn’t even get to the best part yet!” Scout tittered, still sitting on the edge of his seat, wide-awake.

“Boy, you’ve been goin’ on about yourself for hours; from how ya woke up to what you ate for lunch. We’ve had a pretty long day ourselves and wanna get some shut eye before we start cleaning up all the debris outside tomorrow.” Engineer sluggishly bit back, cranky from exhaustion but unable to put any real heat into it. His eyes were clearly burning as he pulled his goggles off his face to rest along his neck, pinching the bridge of his nose to dispel the ache bundled there. With a sigh, he tried a little more gently as he met the runner’s gaze again, “You reckon you can wrap your story up soon, son?”

Scout took a quick glance around the dining hall and only then just noticed how worn out everyone looked. Medic, Spy, and Heavy looked bored. Tired bored. Demo and Soldier had settled down with their hands holding their heads, stubbornly trying to beat the sleep threatening to take over them any minute. And then there was Pyro. Scout couldn’t tell if Pyro was sleeping or still awake since they had been resting their head on the table ever since everyone sat down to eat a few hours ago.

If he wasn’t careful, Scout was on the verge of completely losing the group’s attention. And Scout could NOT have that.

“Psh, fine! I’ll get to the juicy bits then. Now where was I…? Oh!” Scout suddenly leaned forward conspiratorially as he began talking with his hands, hoping to get everyone in the room more invested in his story by doing so. “So there I was, freezing my ass off in the lookout. It must have been, like, negative 400 degrees. Probably. I couldn’t feel my toes, my fingers, or my gorgeous face! But did that stop me from my incredibly important duty? Hell no! I patrolled the crap out of that crappy shack like my life depended on it! And it totally did! Cause, ya see, right after circling the perimeter or whatever for like, the two hundredth time, my incredible Scout-hearing picked up the screeching of that train before it even passed by! You know, the one that almost killed us and all those poor, defenseless cat orphans?”

The room deadpanned at the expectant pause.

“Anyways, that’s when I turned to Snipes like the badass I was and told him to get his van started for us to chase it down. The guy was basically lost without me! ‘Was super busy peeing in jars and cleaning his rifle or whatever--“

“And where exactly is Sniper to back up these claims? I’m fairly certain he would have already poked a hole or two in this unbelievably long-winded and far-fetched tale of yours.” Spy cut in dryly, his stony expression largely unchanged since first sitting down earlier that evening.

The whole room stilled at the question, as it was a very good question.

For the first time in hours, the room stirred as seven sets of eyes (and Demo’s single eye) sleepily searched around the room for the Australian. After a moment, however, brows soon furrowed and heads turned at greater angles as they inspected the hall more attentively. Typically it wasn’t odd for the marksman to be missing, as everyone knew how much he enjoyed his privacy, but the team was well aware they hadn’t seen Sniper since the incident that day. Or with Scout afterwards, for that matter.

At the quiet but unified revelation, all eyes leveled suddenly on the Bostonian who was now sitting with his back ramrod straight at the scrutinizing stares, never mind the dawning horror that manifested quite clearly on his face.

“Scout? Where is Sniper?” Medic repeated the question cautiously, slowly. The air felt uncomfortably stiff as mere seconds of silence threatened to deafen them all.

The last Scout had seen of Sniper was when his van crashed into that rundown building hanging off the edge of the cliff after he jumped onto the train to try and stop it. He hadn’t seen if Sniper’s van stopped dead in the building or if it ran clean off the edge. And if it did happen to be the latter…

“Oh, my God.” Scout stood abruptly, banging his knees off the table with a yelp. “Aow! Oh, my God! Oh, sh- I gotta go! I GOTTA GO!”

The runner was already out the door and sprinting for the RED Bread truck by the time someone managed to shout after him to wait and explain himself. Scout had barely registered who it was and didn’t care to as he reached the garage and practically leaped into the driver’s seat to fumble with the keys already sitting in the ignition. He started the vehicle as quickly as he got inside of it, slamming the stick into reverse before peeling out of the base with a loud scream of wheels.

“Oh crap, oh my crap. Snipes, man, you better be super alive out there.” Scout muttered in a panic to himself, foot pressing harder on the accelerator as an intrusive thought interrupted his focus regarding how long the hopefully still-alive Australian had been missing for out in the extreme cold. The runner dared to sneak a peek at the digital clock resting above the vehicle’s transmitter and paled.

Seven hours. If Sniper was alive, he’s been sitting in the cold for seven freakin’ hours.

“Oh, God, this guy’s freakin’ dead! If he wasn’t dead before, he’s super dead now! He complained about the cold the whole freakin’ time and now he’s a Snipe-cicle. The poor bastard barely had a chance!” Scout ranted and raved out his nervous energy, still unfalteringly speeding towards the lookout up the mountain despite the words coming out of his mouth. “I should have offered him my gum, man. Chewing keeps you warm like talking keeps you warm. Now he’s gum-less and frozen to death. Way to go, Scout, you killed a guy by not giving him some damn gum!”

The video transmitter suddenly started blaring from the dashboard, startling Scout enough to veer the van off the side of the road with a terrified scream before hurriedly readjusting right back onto it, foot never letting off the pedal the whole incident. Hardly able to catch his breath from the scare, Scout blinked down at the ringing device before punching the button to ignore it. Whoever it was could wait. It was taking all his concentration to not crash and a conversation was the last thing he needed right now.

The dangerous drive up the mountain towards the wreck site took less than thirty minutes thanks to Scout’s reckless regard for his own safety, the bread van’s engine practically screaming for mercy by the time he wrenched the vehicle to the side of the snow-covered railroad tracks before hopping out.

It was a thousand times colder than it had been earlier in the day, nightfall dropping already cold temperatures to an insanely low degree. Sure, Scout had been spouting about Sniper’s death the whole drive there, but it was only then he realized how very probable it actually was.

The revelation had the runner feeling sick to his stomach, but he still pressed on and attempted to ignore his own hang-ups for his teammate’s sake. Flicking on the flashlight he had hurriedly stowed in his jacket pocket before launching himself from the truck, Scout approached the now dilapidated building with a sizable van-shaped hole. Light snowfall calmly blanketed the ground as he trekked, so thick that the runner had to lift his knees higher from the ground to avoid dragging them through the frozen terrain. Even the air felt harder to breathe from how cold it was.

“Snipes?” Scout called out with uncertainty, shining his light around and wincing at every broken board and tire tread mark he spotted, “You, uh, huddled in a corner around here or frozen to death or…?”

Scout finally reached the end of the destruction at the other side of the building, his flashlight illuminating a hole complimenting the one he entered just moments ago. His heart dropped into his stomach, sure that Sniper really had driven off the mountain and to his death, until his light reflected off a cracked side-door mirror that blinded him.

“Ugh!” Scout squinted with an annoyed grunt, perking up immediately when he realized exactly what he was just blinded by. As fast as he ran on the battlefield, he mindlessly sprinted for the driver’s side with a huge grin of relief, feeling silly he ever doubted Sniper’s survival to begin with. “Yes! Oh, thank God! Sniper, man, I thought you were—“

The runner stopped himself short as he shined his flashlight into the van, the door already kicked open and stuck, frozen solid. Small icicles formed along the roof of the interior, a thin coat of frost encompassing the entirety of the dash, and Sniper…

Sniper was curled in his seat, feet pressed flat against the window, arms braced against the back of where he sat, skin pale and violently shivering. Scout took a step forward instinctively to try and offer help only to squeak in surprise as he caught himself before walking completely off the edge of a cliff. A cliff, he finally registered, that the whole van had been teetering on for at least seven hours now.

“Oh sweet Jesus.” Scout grimaced, placing both hands on top of his head as he took in the puzzle he had to now solve, by himself, in zero degree weather.

He could totally do this.

“Okay. So, time to use that big brain of mine...” Scout muttered partly to himself as Sniper continued staring at him, too ridden with frostbite to speak or move. The youngest had no doubt that if the marksman had control or feeling in his facial muscles, he’d be glaring daggers at him right now.

The van seemed completely frozen, tires included, so Scout was pretty sure it could take a nudge or two without nose-diving off the mountain. Still, Sniper was frozen to the van too, so the Bostonian would need to do more than nudge to get him out.

Okay.

Scout clapped his hands together with determination, his resolution so plain on his face, Sniper’s brow just barely managed to knot in deep concern.

“You gotta work with me here, brotha. Just relax and let the expert get to work.”

Sniper’s eyes widened in alarm as Scout strode closer and leaned his body out over the edge to reach for the huntsman, fingers outstretched with effort before clamping down like vices into the frosty, stiff sleeve of Sniper’s shirt. His weight made the van groan, the vehicle budging by millimeters as Scout placed more of his weight into the front of it in order to get a better grip.

“S-s-s-st—S-top!” Sniper chattered desperately through gritted teeth, seeing more than feeling his van lurching ever so slowly forward towards the void below as Scout strained to gather more of his clothing into his hands.

“I got you, man! Just…! Almost!” Scout grunted with the effort, white clouds from his panting filling the air around them as he finally managed to gather Sniper’s jacket into his other hand. “Gotcha!”

Just as Scout poised himself to jerk Sniper out of the icy prison that was his seat with all his might, Sniper’s van tottered violently forward, dragging Scout with it as he lost his footing from the edge.

Scout screamed from the top of his lungs as he felt himself get pulled off his feet, fingers clenching for dear life onto the still-stuck Sniper in the van as he dangled in mid-air helplessly.

Wait. Dangled? Shouldn’t Scout be at the bottom of the mountain by now, body horribly twisted in metal and covered in broken jars of jarate?

“Well, that was idiotic.” A nasally voice chided from where Scout had been standing just seconds before.

Unable to swivel his head around to see who it was, Scout squawked as he felt the entire van tilt backwards and somehow reverse back onto solid ground, his body half-buried by snow as it was dragged away from certain death like a lifeless doll.

“Danke shoen, Heavy.”

“Mm.”

With a groan, Scout pulled his head from the unforgivingly cold fluff his face had been buried in and blearily blinked up at his mysterious saviors.

“Guys?”

“Guys?” Spy mocked, replicating the runner’s voice perfectly as he glared down in disapproval at Scout shakily rising to his knees, moodily tossing his spent cigarette into the blackness below. “The next time you decide to run off and ignore our calls, I may conveniently forget I placed a tracker on you and leave you to whatever fate your stupidity leads you to.”

“Tracker?!” Scout started patting himself down frantically.

“You will not find it.” Spy informed casually, shaking his head before turning his attention to Medic and Heavy, who had already dragged Sniper out from his van and were carrying him into Engineer’s truck to get him warmed up.

“What in Sam Hill were you thinking, boy?” Engineer came over to bend down and pick Scout back up on his feet, brushing the snow off his shoulders a little too roughly as he scolded him. “Running away without telling a soul where you were going or why, just to end up out here and nearly killing yourself and string bean over there. Did you knock your head earlier today or what?”

“I get it! Jeez!” Scout snapped back defensively, arms flung up in exasperated defeat. “But Sniper’s been sittin’ out here for hours! I had to do something!”

“And you could have done that something more effectively if you simply explained to us what had happened.” Spy bit back, his agitation and concern simmering under a cool, stern façade.

“Alright, that’s enough bickerin’ now. I’m too damn tired to put in the effort and it’s too damn late to be doin’ it.” Engineer wiped a hand over his face before slapping it onto Scout’s shoulder to give a firm squeeze. “We worried about ya, is all. We thought we lost Sniper and you and, well… We already dealt with a lot today, and you runnin’ off didn’t help much.”

Spy refused to meet Scout’s eyes as he nonchalantly pulled out another cigarette, avoiding Engineer’s gaze as well when the laborer glanced over pointedly at him as he spoke. Scout shot the Texan a confused look before Engineer shook his head with a sigh.

“Just don’t do it again.” Engineer patted Scout roughly on the back before moving away to check on Sniper, who was still sitting in his truck and trying to recover. The windows of the pickup glowed red from Medic’s medigun, doing his best to help the Australian along in healing his frostbite. He’d be in perfect health and ready to head back to the base in no time, Scout knew. And thinking back on it all, considering how easy saving Sniper was when everyone was involved, maybe it would have made more sense to bring the gang out with him.

Maybe Scout had kind of overreacted and made the whole rescue mission way harder than it needed to be. Especially on Sniper.

Feeling like a moron now despite genuinely trying to do the right thing, Scout stood and watched with his arms crossed as the other mercenaries milled about around him, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself after rolling around in the snow.

“You’ve got guts, son!” Soldier’s voice boomed suddenly from behind him, causing Scout to yelp when a large, calloused hand slapped his back a little too hard. “Your bravery deserves a medal of honor! No man left behind! That’s what I like to see in this unit! Stop by my quarters later and we’ll celebrate your efforts the proper American way by training! With me! Hehehehe!”

Scout coughed and tried for a convincing smile at the offer, a small part of him appreciating the little bit of praise he was getting that night. He waved half-heartedly after the patriotic man with an uneasy chuckle as he passed him by with a massive grin on his face. “Oh, sure, yeah. I’ll have to try and remember when we get back to, uh, totally do that.”

“Ach, donnae worry, lad. It’s the wee hours of morning. ‘Ain’t a chance he’ll remember on the car ride home. He’ll be bloody asleep by the time we get back.” Demoman nudged Scout’s arm from behind as they watched Soldier march back to the truck to also check on Sniper. The two stayed standing side-by-side and observed for a few moments as the majority of the team hovered around the marksman just to make sure he was okay. Scout found himself smirking a little to himself at the rare sight.

“Like a fooked up family, we are. Eh?” Demo chuckled, pulling Scout into a quick, friendly side-armed hug. The Bostonian allowed it, but made a bit of a face at the affectionate contact, still feeling out of sorts from the whole incident he couldn’t help feeling was partly his fault. The demolitions expert picked up on it easily, however, and released him with a sigh. “Don’t let this eat’ya up, laddie. Just like I said, right? We’re one bloody mess of a family. If yer gonnae do something stupid, ya might as well include us.”

Scout snorted genuinely at that, shrugging but with a small smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. I got enough brothers at home. I don’t need a bunch of dads to match.” He replied jokingly to deflect the rather sappy sentiment.

“A family’s what’cha make of it.” Demo shot back easily enough, earning him a look of surprise from Scout at the sincere wisdom from out of nowhere as the explosives expert idly searched his own person for his flask. He muttered to himself in dismay when he turned up with nothing, eyeing Sniper’s van before giving a groan of resignation. “Ach, mother o’ mercy. Must’ave left the bloody thing back home. Guess I’ll be in the van taking a bleedin’ nap until we get back then.” Demo gave a two-finger salute as he turned to leave. “Nighty night, lad.”

“Yeah, night.” Scout called after his shoulder.

The Bostonian turned back towards the loose crowd still hanging around the truck and allowed himself a warm, heartfelt smile.

Man.

Scout really had to pee now.

_ -_-_-_-_-_

#tf2 secret santa 2019 #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 #my writing #my fanfiction #tf2 fanfiction #smissmas #end of the line #dad!spy

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sweetsmellosuccess · 5 years

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TIFF 2019: Day 1

Films: 4 Best Film of the Day: The Lighthouse

Parasite: Outside of The Godfather, you wouldn’t expect the sound effect of a door to signify the emotional weight of an entire film, but early on in Joon-ho Bong’s Palme d’Or-winning comic tragedy, that’s what he achieves. The door in question is the outer entrance to the stunning house where the ultra-wealthy Parks live: As it opens, you hear the echoing, metallic clank and whoosh of well-heeled machinery. Standing outside of it is Dong-ik (Sun-kyun Lee), the youngest member of the vastly less successful Kim family. He lives with his parents and sister in a dark, bug-infested basement flat. What comes out of this visit, a job interview, eventually leads Dong-ik‘s family to insinuate themselves into the Park’s home, systematically replacing existing staff, until they have fully taken over. To this point, the film is mostly a comedy, but Bong isn’t satisfied with a simple farce. True to his nature, he keeps probing the situation, teasing it out with several other revelations and twists, until it becomes something almost altogether different. By the end, as it swerves inexorably into blood-soaked violence, the film reveals to be a bit of a con itself, drawing us in with its enticing humor, then opening up into a much darker vision, before ending on an emotional note of surprising vulnerability. Through it all, Bong shows a mastery of odd tones, from the opening comedic salvo, to the final emotional beats.

The Lighthouse: Horror is always deeply seated in myth, from our earliest beginnings, those things that terrified us became made manifest and canonized, as a way to explain them -- or at least acknowledge their existence. No modern filmmaker seems to understand this better than Robert Eggers, whose debut feature, The Witch, utilized actual language from existing folk myths and incorporated it into truly terrifying work. His new film utilizes a similar device, but while The Witch remained rooted in the realism of the New England countryside, this film is much more interested in the wild, chaotic lands inside our skulls. Willem DaFoe is the aging, half-mad Scottish wickie, manning the light, and Robert Pattinson is the younger apprentice, dealing with the drudgery of the day’s work for what is meant to be a four-week stint. We have two men alone on a desolate and isolated rocky island that may or may not be haunted with the spirits of long-dead sailors. Working as a kind of companion piece to his first film, Eggers creates a similar atmosphere of dread, while utilizing several thematically linked tropes – substitute the desolate woods for the desolate ocean; and raving seagulls in place of a jet-black billy goat. It’s like a half-mad sea shanty come to horrible life and twisting on itself in swirl of frothing currents. Because Eggers is constantly re-establishing what we are to consider real, and what is left in the buggered minds of these two drunken sots, we are on much softer ground than in his previous effort, the distinction between a pine forest ground, and the sand, I suppose, which makes the film less immediately unnerving, but no less impressive.

Zombi Child: It begins promisingly enough, with oddly interwoven threads from seemingly different films: a Haitian man is murdered with a Voodoo concoction only to return in undead form, escaping forced labor in the cane fields to return home; a group of French teen girls in a highly decorated private school outside Paris indoctrinate a new girl to their literary society; and one of the girls pines for the boy she is madly in love with, awaiting his return. Gradually, French director Bertrand Bonello starts connecting these threads, but the more they reveal themselves, the less luring the film becomes. From its intriguingly ambiguous start, it slides into disappointingly recognizable territory. Eventually, it settles into a commentary on cultural appropriation, by one of the characters, but also, as an indictment of the audience (and possibly Bonello himself), meddling in things we don’t begin to understand in the name of narrative thrill. It has many good moments, and some eerie sequences, but oddly loses power in its coherency.

The Personal History of David Copperfield: Armando Iannucci is well-known as a satirist of the highest order – “Veep,” the HBO TV series that just concluded its run, was a ribald and unsparing depiction of politicians as ego-maniacal lunatics – but his adaptation of the beloved Charles Dickens’ novel hews much more closely to the writer’s own sentimentalist fancy than what we might have expected from Iannucci’s normal comic eviscerations. Still, there’s plenty to enjoy here, from Dev Patel’s winning performance in the title role (dude could charm fuzz off a peach); to the bevy of other great character turns from a resonant cast including Hugh Laurie, Ben Whishaw, Gwendoline Christie, Benedict Wong, and Tilda Swinton, among others. It turns out Dickens’ penchant for capital C characters plays well in Iannucci’s hands, and everyone seems to be having a hell of a time taking turns chewing up the scenery. It’s certainly a lot less lachrymose than what we’re used to from him, but it’s understandable why he might have needed a breath of less befouled air.

Tomorrow: Due to the vagaries of the schedule, it will likely be a simple, three-movie day: Beginning with Trey Edward Schultz’ Waves; moving on to The Sleepwalkers, an intriguing sounding film from Paula Hernandez; and closing the relatively easy day with Pedro Costa’s Vitalina Varela.

Photo: The Lighthouse

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dlamp-dictator · 5 years

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Allen’s Rambling: A Combat School Anime About Combat (Absolute Duo)

Every year I go out of my way to rewatch three anime.

The first is Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple, a martial arts comedy anime that I’ve always found enjoyment out of since I first watched it quite a few years ago back in the early 2010s. I never watch this to completion anymore given it’s over 40 episodes, but watching about 5 or 8 episodes helps me remember what I love about this genre. The wacky fights, the likable characters, the plot progression, all good stuff that I can recommend to anyone.

The second is Master of Martial Hearts, another martial arts anime that is so legendarily bad that it’s almost a required viewing for any anime fan. I watch this as a sort of palette cleanser to just remind myself of what a truly bad anime is like when I feel like raving and complaining about how uncreative the Isekai genre is. All I have to look back at this anime and then ask myself: “Is there an anime as bad as Master of Martial Hearts in the year 2019?” If the answer is no (when the answer is no), I know that we still live in a world where anime is pretty okay.

And the last thing I watch every year is Absolute Duo, an anime that is honestly pretty average in the grand scheme of things, but is such a fun and comfortable watch that I can’t help but enjoy it every year. I decided to watch my yearly three shows a little out of order this time and... well, I just want to talk a little about this show for a bit.

And let’s start this as I usually do, with the premise.

Absolute Duo focuses on a Tor Kokonoe, a young man who becomes a student at Kouryou Academy, a military school that trains students called Exceeds who wield spiritual/soul weapons known as Blazes. Tor is an Irregular, a title given to him due to his Blaze manifesting as a shield instead of a melee weapon like everyone else. With his Duo partner Julie Sigtuna they train and fight off several threats to reach Absolue Duo, the final frontier of an Exceed’s power.

That’s the basic premise, pretty standard for a Combat School anime. However, I like how serious the show takes that premise. Or at least how much the show recognizes that this is, in fact, a military school. It’s not so much that I like the show, but that I like all the little bits of world-building that go into it. Classes focus on tactics and combat, a character’s strength and ability are the main way to keep their grade. Students that don’t get stronger are expelled after their first year, and so on. It’s simple stuff, but with how little teeth most anime of this archetype show, this was a breath of fresh air.

The first episode is what honestly hooked me. Tor meets up with a girl named Imari, they hit things off pretty well, there’s even a hint of romance. As the scene goes on and the two reach the entrance ceremony you’d think she’d be the main lead and that they’d be paired up for the rest of the series.

But then in the entrance ceremony turns out to be a duel to the finish, with the two new friends having to fight it out in order to remain at school.

This... caught me off guard. Heck, this caught everyone in the cast off guard. People were confused at first, but the headmaster made it clear that getting into the school was the easy part, earning the right to remain was the next step. When Tor questioned the headmaster about this strange rite of passage she simply responses by saying they’ll have to fight both in class and after graduation, that they were given powers to use and so they need to prove why they want to keep them. In short, to repeat what I had said a few years ago:

It was... a surprise when I first watched this, it’s still a surprise to this day so many years later. The stakes were set in such a surprisingly cold way that it kept me interesting. It was then I knew I was watching something just a little different.

And the show picks up from there. New challenges are met, new allies and enemies are made, and so on. If that first episode got you interested then it was likely you’d stick around for at least another two or three.

I already give a spiel about this anime two years ago and while I don’t like that post as much any more my thoughts remain the same for the most part. And I don’t feel like giving a play-by-play of all the bits I personally enjoyed, but I’ll at least go over all the little world-building parts and overall moments that impressed me:

The fact that Blazes are created via nanomachines and injectionss was surprisingly dark for such an overall lighthearted show. It really give it a bit more edge than I expected.

Seeing Imari come back in the second half of the show was a huge surprise, and a pleasant on at that since she left a really good impression on me. Something else I like was that although she did have romantic feelings for Tor she knew their chance meeting was just chance that she needed to step down and let someone with a better shot at him take it. It really spoke to her maturity and got me even more invested in her character... even if at that point she was just a side character.

The fact that there was (technically) one romantic interest that had a shot at Tor and that she confessed to him was not only a surprise, but welcomed. However, due to shenanigans that happened after the confession I’ll just say that it lost it’s impact pretty quickly.

The overall narrative theme of figuring out what lengths one will go to obtain power was compelling. I just wish they went a little deeper with it, especially for Tor and Julie who had more selfish reasons for wanting to become Blazes. Like I said, you get these powers via injections, so it could had gone to some interesting places if they focused on it more.

Tsukimi was a very interesting villain, a cosplaying teacher with a surprisingly vicious side she only revealed to those that survived her initial snap. She was always fun to watch interact with the cast after she finished her villain segment. A lot of my own characters tend to follow a “cute, but actually evil” character archetype to them, so maybe that’s why I enjoyed her so much.

...

Again, I miss the little line breaks I could do back in the old days of Tumblr.

Regardless, despite my praise I can’t recommend this series. I ordered the full DVD series with episode commentaries from the dub staff, but I don’t think I’ll come back to this anime unless I have a really specific itch for it. Instead, I think I’ll throw out some anime that are a little more worth watching.

Armed Girl’s Machiavellism isn’t a combat school anime per se, but it is an action series that takes place in a school and has combat in it. It’s a pretty fun ride throughout with a surprisingly likable main character. You can catch this on both VRV and Amazon, though I know for a fact the dub is on VRV if you’re into that like I am.

Chivalry of a Failed Knight is a combat school anime that has been seen as probably one of the better, if not best, combat school anime out there. It takes it’s premise seriously, it takes it’s action seriously, and still keeps an overall lighthearted tone. I’d definitely recommend giving this one a shot if you’re interested.

And while a little out of left field, Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash is about to replace Absolute Duo on my yearly watchlist since if the Isekai boom isn’t fizzling out anytime soon, I might as well watch a good one to remind myself of how this genre should play out. It’s... an Isekai show that takes it’s premise a little more seriously and deconstructs the general a little bit. I’d say a good comparison would be a much lighter version of Goblin Slayer with some Isekai elements thrown in.

And I believe that’s it. I’ll catch you all later when I do the Weekly Update tomorrow.

#your dictator is speaking #absolute duo

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southboundhqarchive · 5 years

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MEET ERIKA,

FULL NAME › Erika Yosano AGE › twenty two GENDER › Cis female (She/Her/Hers) FROM › Honolulu, Hawaii LODGING › Copper Cactus Motel PRIOR EMPLOYMENT › Freelance Illustrator NOW PLAYING › What If I Go? By Mura Masa

BIOGRAPHY,

trigger warnings: none

i. erika is born with the sun in her soul and the sea in her heart. a loud, laughing child, she is a stark contrast to her quieter older sister and soft-spoken father. she takes after you, says her aunt as she passes eri back to her mother, and this is true in more ways than one: eri has not only her mother’s charm and pluck, but also her talent for the arts. eri can’t remember when she first started drawing, but she is told that as soon as she could grip a crayon, the wall became her canvas. scolded but not discouraged, she is given paper and crayola crayons—draw something nice for mommy—and this is where her dream begins.

ii. her childhood is shaped by a loving family with grandparents just minutes away and aunts and uncles not too far off, either. she and her older sister are shuffled through the various yosano households while her parents work long hours, and not one of them can quite handle erika with her energy and boldness. still, they dote on her all the same while trying to rein her in. only her father can manage to keep her out of too much trouble, whether that’s telling her to come back before the waves get too dangerous or to stop teasing her baby cousin too much. she spends her days at the beach or with her cousins and friends; such an outgoing, lively girl like her has never had trouble getting along with others. art and hula classes keep her busy the rest of the time, and she grows from a precocious child to a lively middle schooler who always has an excuse to why she can’t help out at her aunt’s restaurant today.

iii. everything is as it should be until it isn’t.

iv. perhaps she was too absorbed in her own life to notice the deterioration of her parents’ relationship, or perhaps she was simply ignoring it, but it doesn’t hit her until the word divorce cuts through the air. she should’ve realized it sooner—her parents are high school sweethearts no longer sweet. there are less tender moments between hideo and sumire and more tense silences. more arguments and mounting frustrations. eri is fourteen when she hears her mother say, this isn’t what i wanted!

this isn’t what she wanted? what did she want? what could they give her that they didn’t already?

and so eri wonders if she is worth loving. she wonders why, for all her similarities to her mother, it isn’t enough to keep her here.

v. sumire leaves on a rainy day in november. she doesn’t just move out of honolulu, she moves out of state. the apartment feels gutted with empty spaces where her mother’s paintings were, and it doesn’t help her sister is away in new york for her first year of college. with her mother gone, eri’s father is picking up more hours, and eri’s far too old now to be babysat by her grandparents. when she’s not in school, she’s drawing, and when she’s not drawing, she’s hiking to waterfalls and going on road trips and drinking with her friends. anything’s better than an empty apartment where dinner is a too-quiet affair made with whatever she finds in the fridge; she and her father are almost never home at the same time now. he’s trying his best to repair the bonds frayed by resentment and anger, but it’s hard when they keep missing each other.

vi. perhaps to keep his daughter from completely slipping away like his ex-wife, hideo is nothing but supportive when it comes to her art. never mind that it supposedly doesn’t make much money and her aunt says it’s just a hobby and her grandparents are wondering if she’s going to be a doctor like her sister—as long as she’s happy, as long as she’s doing what she loves, this is enough for him. she applies to one school in hawaii just to get the rest of her family off her back, but her eyes are really set on art schools in california. after high school graduation, her dreams come true: she’s off to otis college of art and design. she takes to L.A. easily, losing herself in new friends and a new city and late nights.

her second serious relationship comes in the fall of her sophomore year when she meets a photography major at a party; he’s funny, he’s charming, he doesn’t shy away when she proves herself to be more opinionated than him. the relationship she left in hawaii was born out of familiarity, out of growing up together and knowing each other inside and out, but this is born out of something new and she relishes in it. they stay up for hours talking about anything and everything, they go out for korean bbq, he takes her to disneyland, and she thinks she’s never been happier than this.

but where there’s a high, there’s a low, and it all comes crashing down a year later when she catches him with someone else. he begs for her forgiveness, she doesn’t take him back, and she wonders, not for the first time, why she’s not worth loving.

luckily, she has good friends and a good sister. forget that cheating asshole, they tell her. you’re worth way more than that. she wonders if that’s true, but thanks them all the same. no more relationships for her—she never delves deeper than a fling. ( it’s easier to leave first before they leave you. ) she focuses on her friends and her coursework, enrolling for a spring program in japan since she’s never been. they never had the money growing up, but eri always knew she was going to see the world, and japan is the perfect place to start. her sister encourages her to apply for a summer internship at pixar, which she’s accepted to, and her last year at otis is her best one.

vii. a few months after graduation, one of her friends proposes a post-christmas road trip. they pile into a car with snacks and blankets and backpacks, multiple spotify playlists ready to go. all is well until they cross the grand canyon off their ever-changing list of landmarks and they’re back on the road, driving for what seems like hours. a sign appears in the distance as the last bit of sunlight paves way for hues of indigo. boot hill, 20 miles.

two of them want to keep driving, the other two want to stop, a copper cactus beckoning them as they near the exit. eri doesn’t get a say because she’s napping in the backseat, and by the time she wakes up, they’ve pulled into a small town complete with cute diners and a drive-in theater. as they check into their rooms at the local motel, eri think it’s not so bad—especially for the price. four stars on tripadvisor, even! it’s strange, though, how all the reviews rave about how they couldn’t help but extend their stay. we just couldn’t resist.

viii. she has never been so far from the sea.

the sand stretches for miles, but not the kind with waves rushing up to kiss it; the taste of dusty air settles on her tongue instead of salt. everything feels wrong, but she’s just passing by, she tells herself. it’s been a week, sure, but she’ll check out tomorrow. really this time. yet when she tries to, the concierge is mysteriously missing, their car’s broken down, or her friend wants to stay another night and wow, isn’t this town just so great? so peaceful?

two more days pass. dude, fuck L.A., says one of her friends, rolling a joint in the back of the bar. we should just stay here.

erika’s all for bad ideas, but that’s the worst one she’s ever heard in her life.

ix. google maps says no route found. she can never find the highway exit. her friends can’t seem to make a damn decision. every time she tries to leave, she’s stopped, and her restlessness manifests in drunken nights with whoever seems like a good time, in spray-painting abandoned buildings, in the sketchbooks and canvases littering her motel room she’s been in for the last month. uneasiness and anger coil in her spine, and it shows in her art: paintings and sketches of boot hill all have an eerie quality to them, the shots in her camera capturing not the joy of small town life, but smiles that are pulled too tight and suffocating complacency. she was never meant for abandoned highways or deserts; no, her path lies in endless horizons and lush greenery and a maze of skyscrapers.

x. i just want to go home, eri mutters into a plate of fajitas. a kindly face turns toward her. oh, dear, you’re already home.

xi. there are no waves to pull her under here, but eri still feels as if she’s drowning.

❝ half-sun, half, wine-dark. wild to be understood. ❞

CENSUS,

FACECLAIM › Nana Komatsu AUTHOR › Izzie

#nana komatsu #rp #rpg #small town rp #oc rp #{ all. }#{ f. }#{ newcomer. }#{ over twenty. }#{ izzie. }

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k-l-neidecker · 6 years

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New Post has been published on K. L. Neidecker

New Post has been published on https://klneidecker.com/2018/10/09/blogging-and-slogging/

Blogging and Slogging

I’ve had this blog forever. I mean, maybe not forever forever, geologically speaking, but close enough in the internet world.

This started a fat bunch of years ago. I’m not even sure of the timeline anymore. 2014? 2013? Maybe. I know I still worked as the anti-theft guy for a large cable company at the time, and dabbled in riding the still-popular wave of blogging to great success. I know I had the blog before I found Michael R. Fletcher’s amazing novel, (it was once called 88 and has been since rereleased) Ghosts of Tomorrow, which was around 2014. (Addendum, 2013 for sure. And, oh boy, amateur hour blog at that time for sure…)

That, obviously, isn’t quite how it panned out. You see, the web is chock full of blogs, and maybe half of them (those not written for purely marketing reasons anyway) are by writers of other things besides blog posts. Fiction, non-fiction, talking away and posting away about this or that very important thing.

For a while there, I posted regularly enough. Some reviews, some interviews, some opinions. You know, generally screaming into the void. But that all fell away over time. What, exactly, could I add to the tsunami of writing blogs out there? I’m just some sarcastic git with some writing skill lost in an ocean of blogs, a single bobbing plastic bottle thrown this way and that in the sea of words that is/was the bloggosphere.

And, of course, blogging isn’t the great force it once was. The internet is nothing if not easily corrupted by the whims and will of those who want to make money advertising you their dumb crap. Clickbait articles, nonsense sites with ads above, below, to the left, to the right, in the middle, and all over the content you came to read. Websites that take 30 seconds to load on a 30 megabit connection due to autoplaying videos and fifteen CSS stylesheets layered one over another.

Really, look at the blogs or news sources you even bother reading now. I bet it has shrunk precipitously over the last few years. If you follow the writing world, maybe you read some of Chuck Wendig online, take a gander at John Scalzi, pop on over to Kristine Kathryn Rusch, the occasional updates from George R. R. Martin, and possibly watch Neil Gaiman do his amazing and eloquent thing on Tumblr. And I do read all those, and a few more (may I recommend File 770 for constant updates on the world of publishing, awards, authors, and fandom).

But the days when one followed dozens of blogs, interacting with the authors of those spaces via comments, getting updates on everything that interests you, is mostly a thing of the past. Hell, half the sites out there disabled comments a long, long time ago, and for good reason.

And in the last few years, I’ve published a few small things here and there, bits and bobs of fiction, as well as done grant writing, journalism, marketing copy, been involved in a brewery, a newspaper, an art gallery, moved a handful of times… Well, you get the idea.

Also, in that time, I’ve written my own work far less than I should have, let this blog languish in some cold purgatory, hardly touched my Patreon, and been sidetracked by numerous dead-end projects and things that have taken more of my attention than they should have.

Not to mention just how…wearing…three years at a tourist hot-spot like the brewery I worked in from its opening week until a few months before this post can be on your creativity. Sure, all work is like that to an extent, but honestly some jobs are more damaging than others.

When your job is to entertain, have full-on conversations, and pay 100% attention to dozens of people at once for ten hours a day, well, you ain’t coming home refreshed and ready to roll your face on the keyboard, that’s for sure. Hell, you can’t even escape to a back room, stock area, or kitchen for a breather. It’s you, three foot of bar depth, and people right there with nothing else to do but stare at you and ask what kind of wood the walls are made of, or if you have gluten free free-range fair trade sustainably farmed ethically sourced “ales, because I hate lagers.”

Obviously, that’s also a fat lardy can of excuses (and this is the curse of being human, one can believe they are in the right to be stymied and tired while at the same time realize they could do better if they got off their stupid ass and just did it at the same time).

Writers did their work during World War II. The Great Depression. Through imprisonment, through drug addiction, alcoholism, with kids, with sick family members, while battling figments of their imagination manifesting as sloppy squid-creatures slapping tentacles on the kitchen floor…

And here I am, boo-hooing like a small child who scraped their knee on gravel about some average, everyday life bullshit.

But again, even that isn’t true. Every one of us has our own little monsters nipping at our brains, tiny creatures sapping our will to do more. And it’s simply not good enough to compare our problems with another’s problems and declare ourselves weaker or stronger based on some relative metric of how well we think we (or someone else) is doing. Some things work for our makeup, our particular configuration in this world of infinite configurations, that don’t work for others. And their ways don’t work for us.

We are a combination of our parts, both more and less than the sum of those parts. Chemicals in our brains regulate mood, function, physical reactions, how we see and hear and interact with the world.

And those chemicals are encased in a skull riding a meat-machine with who-knows what strengths and weaknesses, things formed by physical maladies, stresses, what we eat, what we do.

So here we are, I suppose. All of us trying to do whatever it is we are trying to do. And here I am, back at this blog, a blog long since cleared of many of the old posts, written long enough ago as to be not what I want representing me anymore.

For any human-shaped meat-popsicles that remain watching this space, I’ll be posting on a regular basis to rant or rave or talk about what I’m doing. In part to talk to the world. In part to vent the thoughts rattling around in my head. In part because screaming into the void is, contrary to what they might tell you, an honorable and important thing to do. Hell, maybe even healthy.

And finally, I’ll be doing what I should have been doing all this time. Writing stories, getting them into people’s eyeballs. Fixing up and kicking the dust off the Patreon account, brushing the rust off the writing skillset, and seeing where this goofy damn thing takes me.

#Uncategorized

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spdersilk · 6 years

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Recruit [2]

Warning(s): Cursing. Violence (not gory).

Summary: Basically I really wanted to start an Avenger’s series where the reader is a new recruit. The reader is a close confidante of a science professor and often helps with research. What was supposed to be a normal visit to a lab turned into a life changing occurrence.

Author’s Note: This series will have multiple parts so if you want to be a part of the tag list just let me know and drop something in the ask box. Let me know if you guys liked this part :)

Pairing(s): Avengers x Reader

*Italicized phrases are the readers thoughts/memories/etc. Hydrokinesis is the ability to control water. Cryokinesis is the ability to control ice. Electrokinesis is the ability to control electricity.

Part [1]

“‘I’m sorry, I really am not the one your looking for. Now if you excuse me-” You wheezed, turning around only to see a red headed lady stand in front of you. Her viridescent colored eyes peered at you as if she was daring you to make a move.

“OVER HERE!” A gruff voice echoed. You turned around and let out a small gasp. The group of men stood at the entrance of the alley with guns.

“Agent Romanoff.” Fury stated, pressing himself against the alley. The young woman grinned, reaching for something behind her. Her smile reminded you of a tigress finally finding her prey.

“On it.”

“If you were smart, you would come with me, Miss.” Fury stated. Your eyes were transfixed on the several men. The red head had straddled one with her legs while shooting at the other man with a gun. You let out a small gasp, wincing at the noise. The echos of the bullets resonated in your head and you could see your brothers face. Bloody. Bruised. No, not again.

“Alright you’ve seen enough.” Fury grabbed you by the arm and began to lead you towards the opposite end of the alley.

“Leave the girl.” A gravely voice came behind you. Fury stopped abruptly, pulling you roughly against him. The short man, who you had hurt earlier, stood in front of you with an eerie grin. You pressed yourself further into the wall.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Fury stated , reaching for his gun. You watched the man’s smile widen. His hand reached for a black gun and you shrieked, covering Fury’s body with yours. You hid your face in your arms, crossing it in front of your face. The man fired but the bullet never penetrated your skin. Frowning, you looked up to see what resembled a force field. Is that water?

“We have to go now.” Fury stated, grabbing your arm with more intensity. Your legs were moving but your mind was miles away. A symphony of bullets crackling, screams, and images of your brothers face filled your mind. Fury forcefully pushed you into a black jeep. None of what you had seen made sense. A cacophony of loud sounds bounced the window and you shrieked. Two men fired at your window, inching closer.

“Shit.” Fury grumbled and stepped on the accelerator.

“Agent Romanoff, are we clear or do I have to send in back up?” Fury touched the back of his ear. The car was suddenly filled with static and the sound of bullets. You jumped slightly, your heart palpitating. You shut your eyes tight, grasping the edges of the seat firmly. Suddenly the jeep was silent.

“All clear. I’ll be at headquarters soon. Do you have the girl?”

Fury looked at you but you did not acknowledge his gaze. You were extremely pale and it was getting slightly difficult to breathe.

“Have Stark clear the Hospital Wing.”

“On it.”

***

“Is this Project A7?”

“I believe so.”

“So what’s up with her? Heat vision? Can she warp time? Ooh maybe she’s from another dimension and has a twin but her twin is evil so-”

“Put a sock in it, Barton.”

“Would you all quiet down for a second? She’s waking up.”

“Friday, can you run records?”

“Yes Boss.”

“Where am I?” You asked warily, slowly opening your eyes before hissing. The fluorescent lights glared at you. Grimacing, you rubbed your eyes.

“Boss, it appears Project A7 is identified by the name of Y/N Y/L/N. Born to Y/M/N and Y/F/N. Profession is mechanical engineering, however it seems she conducts unauthorized scientific research under Professor Edmund Nottingham.”

A deep blush painted your cheeks crimson. “You guys aren’t the government right?” You asked tentatively. A man with short brown hair guffawed.

“The government? Is that what got you so spooked?”

You looked at the man intensely. An array of arrows adorned his back. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the man next to him. His features resembled the man you often saw on t.v and newspapers. Tony Stark. You winced.

“Is this S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters?” You asked, fearful of the answer.

“No. This is the Avengers Tower You’ve been brought here for a particular reason.” Fury walked towards you from the corner of the room. Panic filled your body for a moment.Your mom’s voice filled your head. I mean you saw what happened to Julie! S.H.I.E.L.D stripped her of her life’s work.

“Why?” You asked. For a moment, no one said a word.

“Why?” You asked again, frustration and desperation evident in your voice.

“Do you remember what happened in the alley?” Fury asked, sitting at the edge of the bed you were currently seated on. You looked at your dangling feet for a moment.

You remember throwing yourself against Fury to protect him. You remember your arms protecting your face. You remember the force field that resembled some sort of film made of water.

“The shield.” You said softly.

“That. That is why you're here. We want to figure out how did that happen. That shield or force field- whatever that was, isn't something that can be conjured by the average individual.” He leaned forward to study you before getting up.

“We want to run some tests on you. Its only a blood test. It’ll be enough to give some pointers to figure out what you are. That is, if you will let us.”

You looked at him and then at the people around you.

“How do I know this isn't a scam?” You asked. Tony let out a chuckle.

“You really don’t recognize any of us? Do The Avengers ring a bell?”

You looked at the individuals in the room and suddenly their faces slowly became familiar. You thought of the numerous amount of times Professor Nottingham brought them up. You knew more about them than you would care to admit.

“Your missing a couple of people.” You stated, looking around the room. Tony grinned at Fury.

“I think we should begin.”

***

“That was more than one needle.” You scowled, looking at your now bandaged arms.

“It’s not my fault your veins are difficult to find.” Tony mumbled, typing on what seemed to be a projection of a computer?

“Friday, give me a rundown on the results.”

“It appears Ms. Y/L/N possesses the power of elemental.” Tony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Elemental?”

“She has the ability to control and manipulate the four elements. The shield she had created to protect Mr. Fury was a manifestation of hydrokinesis.” You looked at your hands curiously. That isn't scientifically possible.

“That doesn’t make sense. The bullet that was fired should have penetrated the film of water. The properties of water aren’t strong enough to withstand such an amount of force.” Tony mumbled.

“There is something unidentifiable that courses within her blood. The source that gave her such powers must have enhanced her abilities. Metabolism and strength levels have heightened. Aging has slowed. Her vital levels have been altered entirely.”

You sat quietly in your chair. None of this seemed real. Hydrokinesis is not real and the ability to manipulate the four elements?

“Holy shit, she’s basically the Avatar!” The man-Clint exclaimed. Thor looked at him quizzically.

“The what?”

“The Avatar! It’s this t.v show of this kid who can control the four elements. He basically has to learn how to ‘bend’ them all so he can beat the fire nation.” Clint grinned widely at you.

“Mr. Stark. If Ms. Y/L/N receives proper training, her powers will not be limited to the four elements.”

“What other possibilities will exist?” Tony asked, sitting at the edge of the desk.

“Cryokinesis and a radical form of Electrokinesis.”

“Holy shit!! She’s better than the Avatar!” Clint exclaimed.

“Can it, Clint. Tony what are we gonna do with her?” Natasha asked, looking at you. You closed your eyes. You were beyond perplexed. “W-Wait. This isn’t-” You clutched your head. “This is not possible. This is not scientifically possible. The human body is not capable of hydrokinesis. Our genetic code doesn’t allow for such-” You cut yourself off, massaging your temples.

“You’d be surprised at what science has to offer.” Tony said, turning towards the computerized projection of your blood results.

“What happened to you before all of those men chased you down the alley? What did you do to make them chase you?” He asked, scratching his chin.

“Give the girl a rest. Let’s wait for Cap and the rest to come back from the mission and continue this discussion tomorrow. Romanoff. Maximoff.” Fury turned towards the two women in the corner of the room.

“Show Y/L/N her room.”

***

“You’re scared.”

You looked at the woman next to you. Wanda Maximoff. You remembered Professor Nottingham raving about the girl. That woman holds limitless power. Telekinesis. Manipulation of energy. She could cause mass destruction if she wanted to!

“You read minds.” You replied. She opened the door and held it.

“You’re scared of Fury. You think he’s going to do something horrible to you.” She said, fiddling with her rings. You looked at her before entering the room. It was large and relatively empty. There was a queen sized bed and a dresser along with a bathroom. The room was decorated in various shades of greys and browns.

“I have history with S.H.I.E.L.D.” You stated. Natasha cocked an eyebrow.

“Personal or familial?” She asked, sitting on your bed. You leaned against the wall.

“Familial.” You looked at the two women before looking at your feet. An awkward silence filled the room. You thought of the shield of water and your mother. She would disown you the minute you got home once she found out.

“Do you like baking?” Wanda asked. You furrowed your eyebrows at her.

“Natasha and I were going to bake some cookies. For the Holidays. The other Avengers think they’re too busy to celebrate but we’re all suckers for baked goods.” She let out a small chuckle. Natasha jumped off the bed.

“We’re making sugar cookies and snickerdoodles.” She glanced at you before making her way towards Wanda.You let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“I’ve never had a snickerdoodle before.” Wanda let out a small gasp and Natasha’s eyes widened. She grabbed your arm.

“Boy are you in for an adventure.”

Tag List:

@dottirose @kgbrenner

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parniarazi · 6 years

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what the universe has taught me about living my best life

I haven’t written on this blog in months, as I’ve been caught up with school, work, and travels. I have been meditating and writing in my journal instead though, a habit I’m proud of and definitely want to continue. I also want to share some things here, especially as I’ll have a bit more free time to write and channel my creativity throughout the summer. I can honestly say, the past year has been the happiest and most amazing year of my life. I turned 20 last October, fearful but excited to end my teen years and embrace adulthood. Moving out of my small hometown, expanding way past my comfort zone, traveling, and falling in love have all changed my life for the better. There’s some points in particular I wanted to draw on, about ways I have cultivated more love and mindfulness everyday, and in return significantly improved the quality of my life. I apologize in advance if some of this is cheesy, just hear it out and give it a chance though!

☽ Appreciate each phase and live in the moment. If there is one thing the moon has taught me, it’s that things change everyday, the phases will continue and she will go through her cycles. She has taught me to be present, rooted in the moment, in where I am and who I am right now. I’ve always been a dreamer, always thinking about what’s next, where I’d rather be, who I’d rather be. I remember in high school, I was honestly pretty miserable most of the time because all I thought about was being somewhere and someone else. In reality though, when I look back on my life in high school, it was actually really great. I have many good memories and stories, I just didn’t appreciate it enough at the time. Instead, I wallowed in my own misery for literally no reason. Each phase will end, whether you want it to or not. Soon, I’ll be done with college and enter a new phase in my life, and I’m glad I’ve grown up to be more appreciative, more present, and more in love with myself and my life now. Appreciate and be present in whatever phase you’re in now, because it will be gone and different tomorrow.

☽ Play. Growing up doesn’t mean losing that childhood innocence, your sense of adventure, or your playfulness. If anything, you’ll need your child-like energy more and more the older you get. For a while, I took adulthood way too seriously. I have the blessing of working with kids, and they remind me everyday to laugh and not take things too seriously. Many of my friends, as well as myself, have experienced crippling anxiety throughout our teenage years, because life is fucking hard and scary. Sometimes you need to walk barefoot in the grass, roll down a hill, blow bubbles, watch cartoons, eat candy, and imagine you’re a mermaid. Getting into the rave scene and culture are one of the main things that have also reminded me of this. It’s amazing to see all kinds of people, grown ups from the real world, gather wearing shiny, silly clothes, and glitter to dance and vibe together. We need things like this to remind us life doesn’t have to be so serious all the time, and to allow us to judge less and love more. Remembering this and embracing that innocent, playful energy will unlock so much creativity, compassion, and imagination you have within you.

☽ Life is full of paradoxes. My favorite one is that life is short, but it’s also so long. You’re here now, and you don’t know if you will be tomorrow, so live a life you’re proud of and leave a mark on the world and the people around you. Be exactly who you want to be remembered as. At the same time, it’s important to remember that there is no rush. You have your whole life ahead of you. You will get to places better than what you even imagined. Take it slow. There’s this cultural attitude of needing to finish school and get a job as soon as possible to be happy and successful. As real as this is, it’s also bullshit because there’s so much more to us than that. Why rush into getting a 9-5 job when you’ll have until you retire to work and make money? You’re told to get AP credits, take more classes, and you’re praised if you graduate early. But for what? Take a gap year if you need it, take less classes if you’re overwhelmed. Take your time because there’s no reason to chase material things and undermine the quality of your learning and the quality of your life. I’ll probably be 25-30 before I finish my degrees, but it’s okay because there are endless opportunities for learning, making money, and growing in a real and authentic way until then.

☽ Move your body everyday. Something as simple as going on a walk in the morning or doing 20 mins of yoga can improve your life and make you feel better. From insomnia, to depression and anxiety, to physical pain/chronic illness, I’ve seen movement and exercise change lives for the better. We all know exercise releases endorphins, which can boost your mood, help reduce physical pain, even boost your memory and focus. Our culture is obsessed with aesthetics, and working out can suck if you don’t feel great about your body. It’s easy to compare yourself to insta fitness models or experienced yogis, but everything is a process, you have to start somewhere and you have to start with a goal of just feeling healthier and happier. For the longest time I just did ab workouts and squats because I wanted a certain body, but I realized eating food I liked, and doing a simple and easy yoga routine some days felt better than forcing myself to workout and eat healthy. Throw away the scale, don’t count calories or protein, don’t look for physical changes. Move your body in a way that feels good, eat whatever you’re craving, take care of yourself from a place of love and authenticity, and you’ll be surprised how much better you’ll feel on a regular basis. Plus, the gains and strength will come along, too. I’m still working on this as well, but swimming, doing yoga, and going to the gym have helped me feel stronger, sleep better, and have less back pain from my scoliosis.

☽ Go outside. You came from the earth, and to the earth you will return. Feel the sun on your skin, the cool water on your feet, the rocks and sand through your fingers. Connecting with nature, not only by physically being outside more, but also eating more naturally, has beautiful effects that are hard to even describe. The earth has everything we could need as humans, she gives abundantly and has the power to heal us. As humans, we need to spend time with nature, the man-made society and structures we live within can sustain us, but we will never be able to connect, be as conscious, or be whole without returning to our roots. I like to have plants, sage, palo santo, and crystals in my room so I can have more connectivity to earth even when I’m indoors. The relaxing, euphoric effects from spending time outside and in nature cannot be felt or imitated with anything else. It is so grounding and uplifting at the same time, and connecting to the earth is definitely on of the main things that has improved my life. Also travel. See as much of the earth as possible. It will teach you things that nothing else can.

☽ Meditate. Write. Listen to music. Read books. Expand yourself through multiple avenues by trying new things. I never thought I’d be into crystals or meditating or any of this spiritual shit, but instead of judging myself or others, I just decided to give it a few tries. Meditating is amazing because in a world where our brains and eyes are constantly being given information, fed images, and told what to think, it can be so hard to even hear your own thoughts and feelings over all the noise. We also live in a ‘productivity’ culture, so taking a few minutes out of your day to simply sit with yourself and breathe can be so necessary and useful. Meditating reduces my anxiety, makes me a better person to be around, and helps me deal with situations and make decisions from a place of clarity. It also helps me feel closer to myself, so I trust myself and my decisions more and overthink less. Journaling and writing has the same affect. I like to make gratitude lists in my journal, and manifest goals by writing them out after I meditate. This can seem really out there, but meditating and journaling can make some serious shit happen in your life. You’ll be amazed at the calm it brings you and when things you manifest become reality...whoa. Music and reading are also extremely elevating. I could write a whole other post on those two things alone and the incredible benefits they’ve brought into my life. Listen to an artist or genre different from what you usually listen to. Read a book you normally wouldn’t, just for fun. It’s incredible how much these simple acts of stepping outside your norms will allow you to expand and grow.

☽ Cannabis and psychedelics. If you’ve read this far, that’s amazing and why I’ve saved this fun point for last! I started smoking weed in high school, like many people, and I fell in love right away because I felt how it helped me relax, reduce anxiety, and sleep better. But it wasn’t until the past several months that I really began embracing cannabis as my medicine. As I’ve mentioned, I’ve had chronic back pain and anxiety, and nothing has helped me more than cannabis. It has also helped me gain weight (I was underweight for many years), so I am much healthier and happier now. Weed makes me a better person to be around and it has improved the quality of my life so much. Thankfully, it is becoming more and more acceptable in our country/culture, I even had the exciting experience of buying from a dispensary recently. It really bothers me when people think of weed as a ‘dangerous drug,’ because it is the most amazing, healing plant medicine. I’ve also had a few acid trips and tried Molly in the past year, and psychedelics did and still do intimidate me, but they are so powerful. Tripping isn’t going to make you ‘find yourself,’ but it can be a really useful tool in your journey for expanding your consciousness, your creativity, and allowing you to feel more love and openness. Cannabis and psychedelics help me shed my outer layer, one of anxiety, judgement, shyness, and normativities. Instead, allowing my mind to elevate and be open to love, new perspectives, and a deeper connection to the world around me. I truly believe if used properly, these things can have immense benefits and improve lives.

I’m no expert in wellness or healing, I just wanted to throw out some mindsets and activities in particular that have helped improve my life immensely. I’m on my journey, just like everyone else, learning and growing everyday. I am so grateful for the woman I am blossoming into, and I never even imagined being able to feel as much love and joy as I do. I hope you were able to take something away from these points, and if anyone would like more specific suggestions, from books to yoga to music, please let me know!

#personal #wellbeing #wellness #meditation #life hacks #words

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curiousview-blog · 3 years

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Just for Today (no emotional time travellers please)

This is the 12th post for ‘How to stop drinking: A guide for normal people’. A series in which I am sharing my reflections on living, and staying sober, in a fun, honest, down-to-earth way to show that an alcohol-free life is possible. Previous chapters can be found below on www.samwarren.net

One of AA’s mantras is that you only need to not pick up a drink today. You don’t need to worry about tomorrow. You don’t need to worry about Saturday night, Angela’s party next month, Christmas, or the rest of your life. You are just not having a drink today. Dear sweet Mary Mother of God, what nonsense!? When I was a drinker I use to think this was the most ridiculous idea – what the hell is the point of kidding yourself? If you believe you need to stop drinking (and I mean really be free of it) then of course it’s not ‘just for today’. Why pretend? Surely it’s better to come to terms with a sober life than play mind games?

Image credit: Chiltern & Thames Intergroup of Alcoholics Anonymous

Now I have stopped drinking, I can see how wrong I was. ‘Just for today’ doesn't mean kidding yourself that at the stroke of midnight everything will miraculously be OK again and you can crack open the bubbly to celebrate. ‘Just for today’ means

‘Worry about now. Right now. Just now and no further’

Not tea time, not even an hour from now. Concern yourself with this moment because this moment is all there actually is! The ‘Just for today’ card you’re given at your first AA meeting contains many excellent practices, but within them, there is one important idea that has stayed with me all these years. And that’s the practice of not loading yourself up now with the anxieties of some future state, so that you feel overwhelmed, plummet into the pit of despair and be far more likely to have a drink than if you stay in the present.

No-one can know the future, so our hopes and fears about what will (might!?) happen are just that – hopes and fears. So beaming them into the here and now, effectively making them real, is a huge source of anxiety which is completely avoidable, if you learn how. It’s an excellent trick to learn for all sorts of things in life actually, and is at the heart of all sorts of ancient ‘eastern’ inspired meditative practices. Shut down your nervous, chattering ‘future brain’ and stay in the present. Mind-full, body-full, and soul-fully right where you are. Because that’s all you have to deal with right now. As I write those words I am wrapping you in this super-soft velvet backed teddy-bear throw, because that’s how soothing ‘just for today’ feels.

In fact I might just join you in the blankie if that’s OK, as I’m in a pretty anxious place myself as I’m writing this – which is why I decided to tackle this particular chapter today. I have a Really Important Job Interview coming up in a few weeks (which is in itself a projection… take away the Really Important, and I might not be feeling so nervous), an uncertain application for a mortgage in progress, travel plans to finalise, a potential home-move to organise (oh my LORD I have to rent my apartment out?! I have no idea about such things!) and so on, and so on. And there will be a whole new set of things to replace these when I’m done getting through this lot. My son calls these matters for “Future Mum”, not “Now Mum”. I like that. It’s really helpful – it means I can pop them in a parcel and post them off to someone else*.

Now it’s one of the great joys of imagination and day dreams that we can conjure up future states at will, just by thinking about something or someone. But it’s also dangerous if we use it to imagine future strife or sorrow. Of course, there are tasks I need to do today in respect of things like job interviews, mortgage applications, and travel plans, and of course there are wider future issues that demand we think about, and act on them, now – like climate change – but the important point is that I don’t need to think (and therefore WORRY) about all of them, all at once, right now. Because as soon as I do, the emotions associated with the ‘worst things that could happen’, flood through my body as if they were already happening.

If drink has traditionally been your go-to support in times of stress, anxiety, or panic, then worrying about tomorrow just heaps on pressure to drink, feel crap about being sober, or hopeless that you’ll never stop craving, etc etc etc… so even if you don’t pick up a glass, you still end up miserable and wallowy. And as being sober seems extra shit under such conditions, you imagine bleaker futures, with more terrifying emotional ‘presidues’. This is my word for residual emotions from something imagined that you feel in the present moment.

Image credit: Complete Health News

Because emotions are chemicals that your mind makes real. To your brain (well, your endocrine system to be precise) your imagination is real. Seratonin and dopamine manifest to us as ‘happiness’, Cortisone becomes ‘stress’, Adrenalin converts to stress too, but also excitement. Yep, it's a bitch that one, even exciting things can stress you out – I still get all weird before a big night out like a five year old waiting for their birthday party to start. My friend Donna and I call it ‘pre-rave anxiety syndrome’. Finally, there’s the mother of them all – Oxytocin, which we experience as desire/ pleasure. This one is also a tad confusing: it is released during orgasm, breastfeeding and when stroking cats. But probably not all at the same time.

So remember folks, that all we really have is now, corny as it sounds. And if we can live ‘just for today’ it’s truly a gift that frees us from living in fear and worry of ‘what might be’. I guess that’s why it’s called ‘the present’.

*I wrote the original text for this piece in early 2018, and I can report from the future that all of those things worked out just fine, in fact better than I could have imagined.

#Alcoholics Anonymous #just for today #twelve steps #aa traditions #livingsober #sober living #sober curious #stop drinking #control alcohol #alcoholism #heavy drinking #quit drinking #quit alcohol #women and alcohol #women's writing

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xoamandafrances · 4 years

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How to make an energetic decision. I often teach the power of ''energetic decisions' to my clients -- to the point that two of my past clients have even tattooed the world 'decide' on their bodies after our work together. While marking yourself with this word is not required, knowing the power of your internal clarity + certainty is. Deciding means I... Choose an outcome. Get clear on a desire. Look at what I do not feel worthy of, what have not allowed myself to have, or what I actually want. Tell myself a truth I have been avoiding around what I need, deserve, desire or require. Recognize that all the situations in my life were created by me and that I have the power to create something else entirely. Choose how something will workout, how I get to be treated in a scenario, what I am available for, what dynamics a situation must begin to operate by... while being open to even better possibilities. Deciding is not a one time thing. Often we decide, don't believe it's possible, rearrange some beliefs, look at our own perceived worth, and then decide again. But as we practice deciding, as we exercise our faith, and we lean into our own power and learn how to use it well -- we move to the level beyond manifestation. Into a life of more natural co-creation. I break down the power and simplicity of deciding; releasing attachment to launches, perfection, and struggle; working less while earning more; relaxing into alignment; learning to delegate; breaking the internet rules; embracing radical honesty; speeding up growth; thriving through expansion; and creating your sacred Queen flow in the Aligned as Fuck Bundle. These videos are special. There is an energy of accelerated growth inside these videos. And there is a feeling of very intentional ease and sacred determination without the sacrificing of results. This bundle has only been sold one time before. I have taking over 70% that price. The is available, by request and subtle demand lol, until tomorrow. Payment plans available. Rave reviews + payment options + details: LINK IN BIO 24 hours left. I wouldn't wait. Qs? Ask away! Once you enroll, DM me or comment below. . #alignedAF #moneyqueen (at West Hollywood, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B_oahDRDZRv/?igshid=c37qktc1i4i8

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dfroza · 4 years

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we may be wronged while in this world

but Love promises to restore, to protect our eternal heart and to make things right, eventually. there will be pure Justice done.

A point seen clear in Today’s reading of the Psalms and Proverbs for Tuesday, October 29:

[Psalm 37]

A Song of Wisdom

Poetic praise, by King David

Don’t follow after the wicked ones or be jealous of their wealth.

Don’t think for a moment they’re better off than you.

They and their short-lived success

will soon shrivel up and quickly fade away

like grass clippings in the hot sun.

Keep trusting in the Lord and do what is right in his eyes.

Fix your heart on the promises of God and you will be secure,

feasting on his faithfulness.

Make God the utmost delight and pleasure of your life,

and he will provide for you what you desire the most.

Give God the right to direct your life,

and as you trust him along the way

you’ll find he pulled it off perfectly!

He will appear as your righteousness,

as sure as the dawning of a new day.

He will manifest as your justice,

as sure and strong as the noonday sun.

Quiet your heart in his presence and pray;

keep hope alive as you long for God to come through for you.

And don’t think for a moment that the wicked in their prosperity

are better off than you.

Stay away from anger and revenge.

Keep envy far from you, for it only leads you into lies.

For one day the wicked will be destroyed,

but those who trust in the Lord

will live safe and sound with blessings overflowing.

Just a little while longer and the ungodly will vanish;

you will look for them in vain.

But the humble of heart will inherit every promise

and enjoy abundant peace.

Let the wicked keep plotting against the godly

with all their sneers and arrogant jeers.

God doesn’t lose any sleep over them

and he knows their day is coming!

Evil ones take aim on the poor and helpless;

they are ready to slaughter those who do right.

But the Lord will

turn all their weapons of wickedness back on themselves,

piercing their pride-filled hearts until they are the helpless.

It is much better to have little

combined with much of God

than to have the fabulous wealth of the wicked and nothing else.

For the Lord takes care of all his forgiven ones

while the strength of the evil will surely slip away.

Day by day the Lord watches the good deeds of the godly

and he prepares for them his forever-reward.

Even in a time of disaster he will watch over them,

and they will always have more than enough

no matter what happens.

All the enemies of God will perish.

For the wicked have only a momentary value, a fading glory.

Then one day they vanish! Here today, gone tomorrow.

They break their promises, borrowing money

but never paying it back.

The good man returns what he owes with some extra besides.

The Lord’s blessed ones receive it all in the end,

but the cursed ones will be cut off

with nothing to show for themselves.

The steps of the God-pursuing ones

follow firmly in the footsteps of the Lord,

and God delights in every step they take to follow him.

If they stumble badly they will still survive,

for the Lord lifts them up with his hands.

I was once young, but now I’m old.

Not once have I found a lover of God forsaken by him,

nor have any of their children gone hungry.

Instead, I’ve found the godly ones

to be the generous ones who give freely to others.

Their children are blessed and become a blessing.

If you truly want to dwell forever in God’s presence,

forsake evil and do what is right in his eyes.

The Lord loves it when he sees us walking in his justice.

He will never desert his devoted lovers;

they will be kept forever in his faithful care.

But the descendants of the wicked will be banished.

The faithful lovers of God will inherit the earth

and enjoy every promise of God’s care,

dwelling in peace forever.

God-lovers make the best counselors.

Their words possess wisdom and are right and trustworthy.

The ways of God are in their hearts

and they won’t swerve from the paths of steadfast righteousness.

Evil ones spy on the godly ones, stalking them

to find something they could use to accuse them.

They’re out for the kill!

But God will foil all their plots.

The godly will not stand condemned when brought to trial.

So don’t be impatient for the Lord to act;

keep moving forward steadily in his ways,

and he will exalt you at the right time.

And when he does, you will possess every promise,

including your full inheritance.

You’ll watch with your own eyes

and see the wicked lose everything.

I’ve already seen this happen.

Once I saw a wicked and violent man

overpower all who were around him,

a domineering tyrant with his pride and oppressive ways.

Then he died and was forgotten.

Now no one cares that he is gone forever.

But you can tell who are the blameless and spiritually mature.

What a different story with them!

The godly ones will have a peaceful, prosperous future

with a happy ending.

Every evil sinner will be destroyed, obliterated.

They’ll be utter failures with no future!

But the Lord will be the Savior of all who love him.

Even in their time of trouble God will live in them as strength.

Because of their faith in him, their daily portion will be

a Father’s help and deliverance from evil.

This is true for all who turn to hide themselves in him!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 37 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 2]

The Coronation of the King

Act I – The Nations Speak

How dare the nations plan a rebellion.

Their foolish plots are futile!

Look at how the power brokers of the world

rise up to hold their summit

as the rulers scheme and confer together

against Yahweh and his Anointed King, saying:

“Let’s come together and break away from the Creator.

Once and for all let’s cast off these controlling chains

of God and his Christ!”

Act II – God Speaks

God-Enthroned merely laughs at them;

the Sovereign One mocks their madness!

Then with the fierceness of his fiery anger

he settles the issue and terrifies them to death with these words:

“I myself have poured out my King on Zion, my holy mountain.

Act III – The Son Speaks

“I will reveal the eternal purpose of God.

For he has decreed over me, ‘You are my favored Son.

And as your Father I have crowned you as my King Eternal.

Today I became your Father.

Ask me to give you the nations and I will do it,

and they shall become your legacy.

Your domain will stretch to the ends of the earth.

And you will shepherd them with unlimited authority,

crushing their rebellion as an iron rod smashes jars of clay!’ ”

Act IV – The Holy Spirit Speaks

Listen to me, all you rebel-kings

and all you upstart judges of the earth.

Learn your lesson while there’s still time.

Serve and worship the awe-inspiring God.

Recognize his greatness and bow before him,

trembling with reverence in his presence.

Fall facedown before him and kiss the Son

before his anger is roused against you.

Remember that his wrath can be quickly kindled!

But many blessings are waiting for all

who turn aside to hide themselves in him!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 2 (The Passion Translation)

to be continued with wisdom from chapter 29 of the book of Proverbs for October 29:

A godly leader who values justice

is a great strength and example to the people.

But the one who sells his influence for money

tears down what is right.

Flattery can often be used as a trap to hide ulterior motives

and take advantage of you.

The wicked always have a trap laid for others,

but the lovers of God escape as they sing and shout

in joyous triumph!

[You Can’t Argue with a Fool]

Arrogant cynics love to pick fights,

but the humble and wise love to pursue peace.

There’s no use arguing with a fool,

for his ranting and raving prevent you from making a case

and settling the argument in a calm way.

Violent men hate those with integrity,

but the lovers of God esteem those who are holy.

You can recognize fools by the way

they give full vent to their rage

and let their words fly!

But the wise bite their tongue and hold back all they could say.

When leaders listen to false accusations,

their associates become scoundrels.

When there is no clear prophetic vision,

people quickly wander astray.

But when you follow the revelation of the word,

heaven’s bliss fills your soul.

There’s only one kind of person who is worse than a fool:

the impetuous one who speaks without thinking first.

The source of strife is found in an angry heart,

for sin surrounds the life of a furious man.

Lift yourself up with pride and you will soon be brought low,

but a meek and humble spirit will add to your honor.

You are your own worst enemy when you partner with a thief,

for a curse of guilt will come upon you

when you fail to report a crime.

Fear and intimidation is a trap that holds you back.

But when you place your confidence in the Lord,

you will be seated in the high place.

Everyone curries favor with leaders.

But God is the judge, and

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 29:4–6, 8-12, 18, 20, 22-26 (The Passion Translation)

and to close out with a sign of rebirth (of resurrection) and restoration from chapter 37 of Ezekiel:

The Eternal had a hold on me, and I couldn’t escape it. The divine wind of the Eternal One picked me up and set me down in the middle of the valley, but this time it was full of bones. God led me through the bones. There were piles of bones everywhere in the valley—dry bones left unburied.

Eternal One (to Ezekiel): Son of man, do you think these bones can live?

Ezekiel: Eternal Lord, certainly You know the answer better than I do.

Eternal One: Actually, I do. Prophesy to these bones. Tell them to listen to what the Eternal Lord says to them: “Dry bones, I will breathe breath into you, and you will come alive. I will attach muscles and tendons to you, cause flesh to grow over them, and cover you with skin. I will breathe breath into you, and you will come alive. After this happens, you will know that I am the Eternal.”

So I did what God told me to do: I prophesied to the bones. As I was speaking, I heard a loud noise—a rattling sound—and all the bones began to come together and form complete skeletons. I watched and saw muscles and tendons attach to the bones, flesh grow over them, and skin wrap itself around the reforming bodies. But there was still no breath in them.

Eternal One: Prophesy to the breath. Speak, son of man, and tell them what the Eternal Lord has to say: “O sweet breath, come from the four winds and breathe into these who have been killed. Make these corpses come alive.”

So I did what God told me to do: I prophesied to the breath. As I was speaking, breath invaded the lifeless. The bodies came alive and stood on their feet. I realized then I was looking at a great army.

Eternal One: Son of man, these bones are the entire community of Israel. They keep saying, “Our bones are dry now, picked clean by scavengers. All hope is gone. Our nation is lost.”

He told me to prophesy and tell them what He said.

Eternal One: Pay attention, My people! I am going to open your graves and bring you back to life! I will carry you straight back to the land of Israel. Then you will know that I am the Eternal One. I will breathe My Spirit into you, and you will be alive once again. I will place you back in your own land. After that you will know I, the Eternal, have done what I said I would do.

So said the Eternal One.

The Book of Ezekiel, Chapter 37:1-14 (The Voice)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for October 29, the 37th day of Autumn and day 302 of the year:

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