#and it’s actually crucial to analyse these things

[each-uisge-enthusiast]

op turned off reblogs about two seconds before i posted my inarticulate thoughts so i’m going to be a petty little baby about it and screenshot reply.

it’s also not a very intelligent take bc like, it’s barely even true? horror movies are imo a very effective mode of propaganda bc more often than not these themes reflecting cultural anxieties are not loudly announcing “this is about [insert topic here] btw”. they’re using metaphors that work as subtle scare tactics and leave little fragments of ideas in the mind. a huge amount of old horror movies are built on the idea that immigrants are evil, but even today a lot of people watching them don’t notice it. it’s not outright telling you the idea it’s priming you to hear some propped up asshole politician recite the point and go “oh, that makes sense” because media has conditioned you to believe the fear tactics they’re spewing

[myrtlebranch1019]

My Thoughts on Solas in *Dragon Age: The Veilguard* (DATV)

It’s been about a month since I played Dragon Age: The Veilguard and I finally feel ready to talk about Solas. Yes, *that* Solas—the one who’s sparked endless debates in the Dragon Age fandom for over a decade, inspiring some of the most fascinating character analyses I’ve ever read. Unfortunately, the Solas we get in DATV feels like a shadow of his former self. Instead of the nuanced and controversial figure we know, he’s been reduced to a one-dimensional scapegoat with inconsistent writing that just didn’t do him justice.

Solas has always been such a compelling character—complex, flawed, and full of contradictions. But in DATV, the trickster archetype, he represented, was so poorly handled that I sometimes wondered if the characters in the game and I were even getting the same information. Take the moments when we uncover Solas’ memories: the reactions from other characters came across as weirdly more venomous toward Solas than even Elgar’nan, who was a literal tyrant. It felt like (some of?) the writers were trying to strip away any sympathy for Solas, but if anything, it had the opposite effect, if we judge from the percentage of people who chose to redeem him. (Pro tip for game writers: players don’t like being told how to feel about a character!)

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not here to excuse Solas’ actions. He’s done some truly awful things. But reducing his complexity to make him easier to blame? That’s not it. What made Solas fascinating wasn’t just his lies, treachery or rebellion but his wisdom and the fact that he cared too much. Even when he convinced himself the people of modern Thedas weren’t “real,” he still supported acts of kindness and mourned unnecessary loss. That sentimentality made him sympathetic, even while he was pursuing some pretty despicable goals. It’s that balance—the caring, sentimental dreamer weighed down by his own ruthlessness —that made Solas the perfect trickster figure and harbinger of change.

That’s why some of the decisions in DATV just didn’t sit right with me. Solas has always been willing to sacrifice others for his ideals, but that includes himself—*especially* himself. Din’an Shiral, anyone? The reveal about Varric should have been this devastating, mind-blowing moment, but instead, it felt cheap. Solas manipulating Rook by hiding Varric’s death? Totally in character. But actively using blood magic to control their mind? That felt like a shortcut, and a boring one at that. Especially, after those heated debates he had with the Iron Bull in Inquisition about how important freedom of thought is for him.

This was such a missed opportunity to dive into heavier themes like the manifestation of regret and grief—both of which would’ve made Rook more tragic and relatable. What I wanted to see from Solas, was a tragic hero who’d fought for so long he ended up becoming the villain. Not unlike his mortal enemy Elgar’Nan. What I got instead was a caricature of the trickster archetype, stripped of all the depth we saw in Trespasser.

Another thing that bugged me was how DATV framed Solas’ rebellion. The in-game conversations by the Veilguard team seem to suggest that he started it out of spite toward Mythal and/or Elgar’nan, which just isn’t true. Solas rebelled because he believed—to be more precise convinced himself—that the Evanuris were waging war on the Titans in the name of freedom. And realising that this wasn’t the actual motive was his first attempt to “fix” his mistakes. In other words the part he played in the war, and at the same time protect his people from tyrany the worst of fates in his eyes. That’s such a crucial part of his story, and seeing it misinterpreted by the cast, felt like such a disservice to the complexity of the character.

That’s not to say everything about Solas in DATV was bad. The dialogue was exquisite and stood out as classic Solas, especially when it came to the contrast between his wisdom and cunning or the need to offer guidance vs the manipulation (props to Trick for really nailing those moments). The animations were incredible, too, and perfectly captured his aura. And, of course, Gareth David-Lloyd absolutely killed it as Solas. His performance brought so much life to the character, even when during the moments when the writing fell short.

Still, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Solas has always been my favorite DA character, and seeing him reduced like this was frustrating. He’s a character built on contradictions—sentimental but ruthless, idealistic but pragmatic, sympathetic yet maddening. DATV had the chance to explore all of that and take him to new depths, but instead, it just… didn’t. And as a fan who’s loved his journey for years, that’s hard to swallow. Needless to say I would still devour any novel or media about him, because I’m definitely left wanting more from his story.

[drdemonprince]

Between 500 to 1,000 study subjects were recruited from each of the 23 countries sampled in Napier’s study, for a total number of 16,756 participants. Each participant was asked to report their attitudes toward transgender women and transgender men on scale from 1 to 9, with 1 representing “extremely positive” feelings, and 9 representing “extremely negative” feelings. Attitudes toward gay men and lesbians were also recorded, to echo the Bettinsoli et al 2020 paper that Napier’s work builds upon.

In addition to reporting their feelings toward trans and gay people, Napier’s survey respondents were also asked whether they believed it was possible for a person to be a gender other than the one assigned to them at birth (Napier calls this a “gender identity denial" measure), and to report their religiosity, conservatism, age, and education level. Region of course was also a crucial variable in the study, and so analyses are performed both on the level of individual country, and pooled in order to draw comparisons between Western- and non-Western people.

The first important finding to flag here is that, when collapsed across all countries sampled, participants were consistently more biased against trans women than they were trans men.

When isolating survey respondents by region, however, Napier found that non-Westerners reported a greater bias against trans women. Participants in Western nations still appear to have greater dislike for trans women than trans men, on average, but when isolated by region, the pattern did not reach the level of statistical significance. As in her previous analyses, Napier found that the men in her sample were more biased against trans individuals overall, compared to women, and that non-Western men were particularly prejudiced.

Next, Napier turned her focus to the measure of “gender identity denial” — which asked participants where it is possible for a person to be a gender other than the one they were considered at birth.

Participants from Russia, China, India, Peru, Hungary, South Africa, Poland, and the United States disagreed the most strongly with the idea that a person’s gender can change, of all the 23 countries sampled. Spain, a nation that offers hormone replacement therapy on an informed consent basis, ranked as far and away the least transphobic region in the sample, with respondents generally considering it possible for a person to change their gender identity from what they were considered at birth.

After this, Napier combined attitudes toward both trans women and trans men to compute an overall measure of transphobic attitudes, and built a model examining the effects of all variables in the study, as well as how those variables interacted with one another. Once again, she discovered that men feel more negatively toward trans people than women do, and that non-Western men, in particular, expressed greater transphobia.

Napier also discovered that more highly educated people were generally less transphobic, regardless of region. Older people, on average, were more biased against trans people, and this effect was heightened in non-Western countries. Conservatism was associated with more transphobic bias, particularly in Western countries such as the United States. In Western countries, higher religiosity predicted greater transphobia, though it did not in non-Western countries.

So far, these results mostly line up with Napier’s predictions, and most of the existing social psychological literature on the subject. Nothing super surprising here. Where things get a little more complicated, though, is in step two of the analyses, where Napier entered attitudes toward gay men and lesbians as a control.

After controlling for attitudes toward gay people, younger people were actually found to be more transphobic than elders in the Western countries in the sample. What this means, in essence, is that for older people in countries like the United States, attitudes toward gay people and trans people pretty much hang together: either you accept all LGBTQ individuals, or you don’t.

But among the younger generations, homophobia and transphobia are somewhat more independent. Perhaps on account of rising transphobic rhetoric, a sizeable number of young people in Western countries support gays but strongly dislike trans people. The LGB without the T movement sadly seems to have found some converts among the newer generations.

When controlling for attitudes towards gays and lesbians, the effect of education and conservatism on transphobia largely dropped away. This suggests that more educated people are more tolerant towards both gays and trans folks (which is not super surprising), and that conservatives are less tolerant toward both (also a pretty predictable result).

The effects of religion however, flipped: when controlling for anti-gay bias, highly religious people were actually less biased against trans folks than the non-religious were.

This suggests there’s a contingent of highly religious people who are more tolerant toward trans people than they are gay people. This may indicate they believe that transness, which is a matter of identity or personal feeling, is not a choice or not sinful, whereas being gay is. Since some religious doctrines preach specifically about the evils of gay sex, it’s possible some highly religious individuals view transness more neutrally. But truthfully, more study would be needed to tease this effect apart.

Finally, Napier examined the relationship between “gender identity denial” and general transphobia. She found that people who do not believe it’s possible to change one’s gender are in fact more transphobic (no surprise there), and that a person’s beliefs about the changeability of gender had an influence on transphobia that was statistically independent of homophobia.

In other words, transphobia isn’t just the result of homophobic people applying their bigotry to all members of the LGBTQ umbrella equally — rather, transphobia reflects, in some part, a person’s ideology about what gender is and whether it is changeable.

This might not sound like it’s a big deal, but it suggests that the rhetoric of TERFs, “gender critical activists,” and far-right transphobes about the immutability of gender might have had an influence on public attitudes over the years. People who hate trans folks aren’t just doing it because they hate all queers — they’ve developed specifically transphobic beliefs about how the world operates. Transphobes are therefore not merely “ignorant” about what trans people are — they know about us, and they have constructed a worldview that deliberately shuts us out and makes them more biased against us.

I wrote about an impactful new study on the public's attitudes toward trans women and trans men across the globe -- you can read my full write-up and critique of the study (or have it narrated to you by the Substack app) at drdevonprice.substack.com

[r--kt]

Where actually was this betrayal line for Obito that Kakashi had crossed?

about the whole "anyone got Kakashi, but not Obito" thing that @komihoyinsblog said. I remembered where the culmination of this theme was. no, like, this whole topic is real!

let's talk about the scene after when Jubito was defeated. here I will analyse kkobkk relationships and Obito's arc specifically.

contents | context · meaning of the scene · where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

CH. 655

Context

during the battle with the shinobi alliance, Obito came face to face with a deeply repressed desire for another life, which he did not realize due to his position as the only one who can fulfill the tsukuyomi plan. the battle itself as well as the conversation with Naruto reminds Obito of the aspirations and values dear to him that he had to sacrifice. all this has noticeably hit Obito and now he is disarmed and stripped of his armor, which is metaphorically reflected in his half-naked body (and cuz fans love men's boobs).

CH. 652. god, look how happy he is, I'm sobbing. love the way he never regrets about his scars, they're with him even in his imagination, that's a reminder of his core values.

structurally, in Obito's arc, this scene is the Collapse point and the end of the second act. here, the previous methods (the tsukuyomi plan) have shown their inconsistency, and the goal (peace for everyone and for him, too) has not been achieved, and he must find a new way to achieve this goal. at the beginning of the scene, he is confused, defeated and not ready to face the consequences.

why isn't he ready? he's lying there, seemingly resigned. yeah, not exactly. here, he accepted the impending death, and it's even not bad to die by Kakashi's hand to some extent. another question is, is he ready to talk to him, is he ready to accept the defeat and find the strength to continue the journey?

Meaning of the scene

once again, it is important that the battle with the alliance and the conversation with Naruto influenced Obito, but did not convince him. it was Kakashi who did it.

in fact, this conversation with Kakashi is a crucial reason for Obito to return to his ideals. before that, he was in doubt (the second act is a reflection of the character, as if hesitating from one side to the other), and after that he takes the side of the alliance. what did Kakashi say that made Obito come back?

three questions Obito is asking.

how can you be sure that Naruto won't fail on his way, unlike me? [pic 2, above]

why are you so attached to Naruto, what's the difference between him and me? [pic below]

why are you willing to help him (and not me)? [pic below]

they don't talk about different paths here. Kakashi emphasizes that Obito's path is not exactly wrong, so that's not the deal. it's about Obito and Naruto as people, and, more, about Kakashi's opinion on Obito.

finding out why he is not the one whose path Kakashi is ready to defend is essential for Obito. he wants to understand why Naruto (aka Obito's previous self, too) is closer to him, why Kakashi does not support the actual one for whom he grieved so much. why, even recognizing the possible correctness of tsukuyomi, Kakashi refuses to support Obito in this, prefers to go the same way. and also look at how damn emotional he is at this moment, his feelings go from anger to anxiety in a couple of frames. that's what happened when the central conflict "I'm never good enough to be loved" is raised.

Obito's questions are a subconscious appeal to Kakashi — "why don't you choose me? I could make you happy. what's wrong with me again?!" he thinks that the reason Kakashi doesn't take his side is not because of the correctness of his path, but because of Obito himself. subconsciously, he thinks that it's because of Kakashi's personal dislike of this "new" Obito, and he is very afraid of this might be true. just look at his face at the bottom of the page, he's really worried about hearing Kakashi's answer. oh, and it's actually the same meaning as "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different" [ Jinx's quote from Arcane, yes, I like to compare these two sometimes ].

what Kakashi says in this situation means "let me help you." Kakashi said he would be ready to help Obito if he let him in, if he allowed him. this is literally the only condition (which is important to mention here) under which Obito did not pass, because of his desire to reject Kakashi's help, believing that he must put his life on tsukuyomi plan and cut off all ties. but this does not mean that he wanted Kakashi to cut off this tie in return.

Obito was an individualist, and he only scoffed or got angry at Kakashi's offer to help/sympathize. now they're in a situation when Obito finally hear that Kakashi said "you've made mistakes, but that's okay. I can be with you, if you need me to, and I'm okay with you continuing your life and reaching peace. I accept you and I believe in you." and I want you to appreciate that this is the tipping point of Obito's arc.

so, that's why Obito changes his way of acting. Kakashi shows that he accepts Obito the way he is, and thus significantly reduces Obito's need to prove his worth through his own hardships and overcoming difficulties. yes, Kakashi had already said similar things before, and it didn't work, but here this line is resolved precisely because of this deep conversation they had.

Where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

oh, maybe Rin's death was a thing Obito considered a betrayal from Kakashi's part? everything's much less trivial. would he offer to help Kakashi if he thought he was a traitor? and well, he offered.

CH. 630

no, look at his face on the bottom right, why would you say that with such a gentle face to someone you consider a traitor? what is it, a genuine smile? so something happened besides that.

the betrayal was that Kakashi preferred his other ties to the connection with Obito. here, betrayal is not about killing Rin, and not about breaking a promise — all these are mistakes that Obito is able to forgive.

all the moments when Obito says something like "you had the opportunity to kill me, but you didn't do it", "you can't deal with me because of guilt?", "still blaming yourself for the broken promises?" - all this is an attempt to increase his own value, to show the importance of Obito for Kakashi. and it's also a projection. Obito says, "you had so many opportunities to kill me, but you..." although he does the same. like, why would he leave Kakashi alive after the kamui battle? intentionally inflict a non-fatal wound on him and leave him in a dimension that only he and Obito have access to? "I don't care if he's alive or dead," but at every opportunity he chose the option "alive", even if it's less profitable for him. my baby loves to deceive himself so much.

all this time, Obito believed that he was striving for their common dream, and therefore the condemnation from Kakashi (there should be a couple more frames from the manga) feels like the most painful blow for him, especially when Kakashi says that Rin would not want it either. before that, Obito had compared himself and Kakashi a couple of times, put them on an equal footing, and after being rejected by him, that's where Obito feels really lonely.

the point of no return was precisely the fact that Kakashi shows with his own words that he does not accept the current Obito and everything he's been striving for years. all this, taken together, he considered a betrayal, as if he's not enough, as if he fucked everything up again.

therefore, their conflict is resolved by the acceptance of one person by another, this is in fact exactly what Obito's heart wanted — to hear that he could be accepted after all that had happened. the same thing happened after his death, when he finally met Rin, by the way.

hope the text is not that messy. oh, and! that kkob video I've made with mitski's song. this fits the topic so well. love these guys

[olderthannetfic]

Genuine question that maybe's dumb but I just gotta ask: why can all sorts of fan content be monetized except for writing?

I have no issue writing for writing's sake, I've been working on fics since before I had a bank account, so it's not that I want to be paid for what I put out, but... why are writers the only ones who can't?

Artists can create posters and graphics and put them on sale on pretty much every website that offers the service, video editors/makers can make 40 minutes long videos with their theories, character analyses, etc, and as long as they're careful with not using too much of the copyrighted material, they can go ahead with monetization. I've seen craftier people making dolls out of the characters, or knitting blankets, or making glass ornaments inspired by the original material and putting them up for sale.

And then there's us, writing fics and getting hit with shit on all fronts.

And I know that there are writers that turn their fics into original works (the most famous Reylo writers are now all getting very good publishing deals, for what I can see, and they're doing well in the indie department too), but they did have to change crucial parts of their stories in order to be taken into consideration (names of characters and places, pieces of technology, etc), whereas artists can just "Hey, I made a booklet of drawings of characters from X franchise! It's up for sale!"

--

Oh anon... This comes up like once a month, and the answer is that:

Artists are so subject to legal action and have their accounts deleted off Etsy et al. constantly. It is simply bullshit to think they face no problems with monetizing even if fandom culture thinks it's fine and above board.

Nonfiction commentary is highly protected, whether it's analysis videos or analysis blogs. If you write your meta and try to sell it, you'll be fine. That has nothing to do with fic.

A lot of it is about historical precedent and rights holders who choose to go after one thing rather than another regardless of the actual law.

[xx-psych0-rabbit-xx]

looking through them some more i wish there was some kinda commentary somewhere for how their designing process went bc im extremely curious why they were so settled on atleast the leader having demon/devil horns in her hat, but ended up w none of them having them in the final ones (n also curious how their set personalities went since they change back n forth whether flamberge or zan would be the trios leader, would they have each others personalities to some degree or?)

jokes aside its a little funny in a sad way the mage sisters have dozens of betas (some even uncolored from early scrapping) (i counted 19 from all the art book scans i could find) n yet after all that the final ones we ended up w r often (imo fairly) criticized for being a bit too boring

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 14

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

....................................................

‘The things I do for lov…’

Ananya froze. Suddenly very alert. While Jude was still lost in her scent.

She shut her eyes, firmly. Burying her head in the sand like as ostrich. As if that would make the last few seconds not real. As if she could go back in time & change what she nearly said.

It couldn’t be, could it?

Surely it was a slip. Surely she couldn’t have meant to say THAT word. How could she, when they hadn’t even been together for two months yet? Last time it had taken her six months to come NEAR this feeling. It was too soon. WAY TOO SOON.

From the way Jude was happily sighing behind her, babbling something incoherent as his lips traced the back of her neck, she could tell he hadn’t heard any of it. Some respite, at least.

But the numbness refused to leave her body. She was still, like a statue. Only moving due to Jude’s movements behind her. 

After a few moments, he noticed it too, and tried to turn her around. But she resisted.

‘Dove?’

The fondness and care in his voice was too much to bear. His proximity was too much to bear.  The warmth of his touch, his breath on the back of her neck were all too much to bear. She suddenly wanted to bolt out of the room but that would alarm Jude in a thousand different ways. So she took the easy way out.

‘Feeling a bit uneasy. Be back in a bit.’

She removed his arm from around her and headed straight to the washroom, keeping her back to him throughout. Not letting him see her face.

He sensed something was off but attributed it to exhaustion, and let her have a few moments in peace.

Jude picked up his phone, and saw a few messages from his teammates checking in on him. Of course the word would have spread, since he left in a rush and said it was an emergency. He’ll have to come up with a story on the way back, something that doesn’t invite too many questions.

Ananya sat down on the covered toilet seat and buried her head in her hands. Her heart was going at a million miles per second, practically threatening to burst out of her chest.

She knew what it was like to be in love. She had been in love before. But last time, it was gradual. She could tell the signs, the milestones along the way. They had met in college, were classmates, then friends, then more than friends and then ultimately fell in love. Everyone around them saw where it was going from very early on, but the two of them had taken their time. Not rushing into anything. Letting feelings develop & grow over time. Letting destiny take its course. And when the confession happened, it felt like it was a long time coming. Like it was always meant to be this way. 

Was this, with Jude……….like that in any way?

Ananya started pacing around the small space, trying to analyse her feelings. Trying to logically break it down.

Her brain was leaning towards a no. 

They had known each other for only two months. Too short a time to develop such strong feelings. They hadn’t spoken about many crucial things which would be a core part of life if they actually do decide to…..be together like that. To think of a future like that. At the end of the day, falling in love was also a conscious decision, right? Some part of your brain allows you to take that step at some point along the way. The head over heels stuff was only for the movies. Real life didn’t work that way. Actions have consequences in real life, with real people involved, who can get hurt in unimaginable ways due to this torturous feeling. So yes, it was a conscious decision. Had to be, right?

And she didn’t remember making that decision in this case. Her brain hadn’t given her that signal that now the waters have been tested enough, and it was okay to take this massive leap of faith where she could either fly or fall face first in a deep, treacherous valley. So how could this be love? How could she possibly feel that way for him?

Her heart had a mind of its own though.

No logic stood a chance when it came to matters of the heart. Unfortunately, she knew that all too well. Had first hand experience of it. 

If it wasn’t love, why did she yearn to comfort him always? Why did his pain physically affect her senses? Why did his smile uplift her spirits? Why did she feel this gravitational pull towards him? Wanting to be in his arms - his safe, warm, steady embrace? Why did a single message / call from him completely change the way her day was going otherwise? Why was she always looking for ways (even cutting corners sometimes) to be able to spend more time with him? Why did she secretly beam with pride every time he was on the pitch? Why was his individual performance starting to become as big a thing she stressed over as the overall result for her favourite club? 

Her brain had no answer to all this. Like she knew it wouldn’t. 

But she also remembered what happened the last time her heart had overruled her brain so decisively. When she was falling for her ex. At that time, they seemed poles apart. But now, in comparison to her & Jude, they were the perfect match.

Her heart had won. And it led to PAIN. Sheer, absolute, heartbreaking pain. The naiveté of first love, of assuming this would be it, the joy of finding the boy of your dreams, the realisation that you never wanted to be close to any other like this. Because how could anyone else make you feel this way? It seemed impossible.

All for that boy to promise the moon and then walk away at the first sign of trouble. Saying it’s too hard. That they were too different. That they wanted different things from life. No relationship could ever survive when only one person was fighting for it. Hers didn’t either.

And here she was, on the precipice of that free-fall again.

With a boy who had absolutely no idea what all she was thinking right now. Who’d probably freak the fuck out if he heard what she nearly said. Who had NEVER BEEN IN LOVE BEFORE. Who didn’t even know what that feeling entailed, and what came after it. Because falling in love was still easier, but staying in love was the harder part. Shit gets real then. 

Jude had often said that they were young and this was their time to have fun. She knew he didn’t believe in thinking 5 steps ahead in his personal life, like she did. He was more a ‘go with the flow’ kinda guy, not an over thinker. 

And they were having fun, a lot of fun, she couldn’t deny. But what if that’s all he wanted? What if this was the definition of dating for him? What if this was it? 

His life revolved around football right now. His family knew it, his friends knew it, and they supported him in their own ways. And hers should revolve around her career too - that’s the reason she had moved half way across the world to not miss this amazing job opportunity. 

Being in love would mean taking important life decisions together. At least that was her definition of it. No, they weren’t ready for that. Far from it. And she couldn’t dump the complex twisted inner workings of her mind on him right now. They needed time, a lot of time, before they could get there. If they even wanted to get there. Yes, this was the right way. To wait, and not rush into anything. To not let her idiotic heart ruin this with such slips. She had to be more careful. She will be more careful. She won’t falter like this again, she couldn’t. 

With a fresh resolve, she washed her face, finally looked at her own self in the mirror (she was avoiding that so far for some reason, as if she would herself call her own bluff), cleaned up a bit, took a deep breath before unlocking the door.

Jude was sitting up against the headboard, waiting for her to come out. It had been a while. He wanted to give her space but was starting to wonder if something was up.

His eyes followed her closely as she picked up her phone from her desk and came back to bed. Keeping her back to him throughout.

He checked the time; precisely 30 mins before he absolutely had to leave. 

But a weird feeling engulfed him, an unpleasant feeling. A sinking feeling. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she looked at him?

‘Ananya?’

His voice was low, soft. Almost tentative. Jude laid on his side, watching her back. He wanted to reach out, to hug her from behind, but something stopped him.

‘Hmmm.’

‘All ok?’

‘Yeah.’

Her voice gave him zero confidence. He didn’t want to leave like this. And for the life of him he couldn’t figure what had suddenly happened to her. They were absolutely fine just a while back. Happily engaging in pillow-talk. And then poof!

Was she PMSing? He had heard mood swings were a part of it. Would she be pissed if he asked her that? Probably. Best to stay away from this topic.

But he hated this distance and silence between them. He reached for her upper arm, stroking it tentatively.

‘Is it me? Have I done something?’

Had he gone overboard today by pushing that guy’s topic? Did his immaturity / impulsiveness become too much for her? 

The little tremor in his voice made her turn around immediately. Guilt hit her in loads, again. First the Arjun thing and now this. He shouldn’t be dealing with this stuff right before a crucial match, definitely not because of her.

Instinct took over, and she forgot all else, pulling his face close and placing a soothing kiss to his lips.

‘I’m just a little tired, yeah? Been a long day. Tough day.’

He nodded earnestly, lapping up every word.

‘I get it. I do.’

‘I know. Come here, baby.’

He laid half on top of her. Face tucked into her neck and chest. One arm over her waist. One leg over her legs. As she stroked his shoulder, arm and back gently. 

‘Just forget everything and focus on the match, yeah? Score for me tomorrow.’

‘Will you watch me?’

‘Obviously.’

They stayed hugging like that for 5 mins. Quiet. Drawing comfort from each others’ touch.

Suddenly, a thought hit Jude.

‘Jobe’s gonna be here in a few days.’

‘Oh nice.’

‘Yeah, his Christmas break has started.’

‘Am sure you’d love having him with you.’

‘Yeah, really looking forward to it.’

Silence again. Then Jude decided it was stupid to beat around the bush. He leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her.

‘Wanna meet him?’

‘I…uhh….are you sure?’

‘Yeah. He knows about us. You’d like him. He’d like you. I know it already.’

Her head started to spin. Was it too soon to meet his family?

But Jobe was more like Jude’s best friend.

Rubbish. He was still family. Probably the closest bond of Jude’s. What if he doesn’t like her? She hardly knew anything about him, other than the titbits Jude had told her. What would she even talk to him about? Did he know much about her? Had Jude spoken to him about her? 

Why was it bothering her like this? It’s shouldn’t matter so much, right? Didn’t she just decide to consciously take things slow?

‘Earth to Ananya. Come back.’

‘I….have you asked him? Does he want to meet me?’

‘Not yet. Why wouldn’t he?’

Ananya could think of a zillion reasons. 

The simplicity of Jude’s thoughts were both his strength and also a blind spot sometimes. But this was Jude - who always believed life would find a way. It wouldn’t hurt to borrow that child-like optimism maybe, at least in this one case.

‘Ok.’

‘Ok?’

‘Yeah let’s do it. I mean, if he wants to, of course. Don’t wanna impose on your time together.’

‘You know the amount of mind space you’d unlock if you stop overworking that pretty brain of yours?’

‘Brains can’t be pretty.’

‘So we are ignoring the point?’

‘It’s easier said than done, Jude.’

What did he know about chronic overthinking? Only those who were plagued by it knew what it felt like. Others should just zip it and keep their suggestions to themselves. 

Jude felt her mood shift again. Almost fully convinced she was PMSing. Otherwise he couldn’t make sense of the last 30 mins.

His alarm buzzed then, and Ananya put her fingers in her ears to protect them from the obnoxiously horrid & loud sound.

It was time to leave. No more dilly-dallying.

‘I’ll check with him & then let’s plan something?’

‘Cool.’

‘We’re good, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So I’d get my agreed upon special reward if I score tomorrow?’

‘If you don’t manage to piss me off somehow, then yeah.’

He left soon after, after a quick kiss, and Ananya just shut her eyes, shut out the world (her brain included) and allowed sleep to numb her restless thoughts.

Jude didn’t score the next day, but his assist was spectacular, and the team won. One more league match was left before the Christmas break; everyone wanted to leave on a high.

They spoke briefly after the match, and Jude told her the plan was a go. 

It was happening. She was going to meet his brother on Friday. The person who knew Jude the best. In two days. 

But god showed some mercy and she was so caught up in work the next few days that this somehow went on a back burner.

Until Friday night, when she was in the car with Agnes, on the way to Jude’s place.

She was supposed to reach by 7 pm but the conference had run over. It was already 8:30.  So much for first impressions. Universe never stopped conspiring against her after all.

When Jude answered the door, it was 8:45. She started blurting out her apologies, without even greeting him.

He didn’t hear a word, eyes too focused on the navy blue dress once she took off her coat. The fitted knee length dress, black stockings, black heels, hair partly tied back, glossy lips.

The look was blowing his mind. And he suddenly wished Jobe was not in the house with them right now. 

Because now he won’t be able to do what that attire actually deserved. But no force in the world would stop him from getting a quick taste. Not even her explicit exhaustive warnings of keeping his hands to himself in front of Jobe.

Jude cut her off mid-sentence when he dove in for a kiss, grabbing the side of her face. His other hand slid down to cup her butt, their usual make-out routine. Ananya froze, trying to look around with her peripheral vision.

Before she could push him away, Jude broke the kiss and shrugged at her. As if to say it was her fault somehow. But now was not the time to put him in line, she’ll have to do that later. With one final stern look, which he pointedly avoided, they walked into the living room, hand in hand.

His brother was lounging on the couch, and stood up to greet her.

Neither Ananya nor Jobe knew what an ideal greeting would be in this setting - a casual side hug or a nod or a handshake? So they ended up doing a silly little wave to each other while muttering a quick ‘hey.’

Jude of course was oblivious to the awkwardness, as he went to fetch the dinner tray-table. His chef had truly gone over-board today when Jude said it’s gonna be a special intimate dinner, preparing a proper 3 course meal. 

Both Ananya and Jobe helped set the dining table as Jude went to fetch the wine. Neither had much faith in Jude’s abilities to manage single-handedly. 

‘Sorry you had to wait. I know you guys have your dinner early. You should have started, really.’

It was something she was still getting used to with Jude. He preferred to have dinner done by 8 usually, a healthy habit for athletes.

‘No it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’

‘Thanks. How was the amusement park yesterday?’

The brothers had visited a famous Disney park in Madrid, which had caused quite a stir, and the authorities nearly had to shut the place down.

Jobe chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

‘Started out fun, but then got a bit mad. Like I knew Jude was popular here but man, this much?’

‘And this soon.’

‘Yeah, exactly. They had to call bouncers to escort us. Bit nuts, that.’

‘I’d say get used to it. Fans have really taken to him. Never seen so much love for any player here in 5-6 months, not since Ronaldo of course. We are a tough fanbase but he has truly won us over at rocket speed.’

‘Oh, you’re a Madrid fan?’

Jude chose that moment to emerge with her favourite bottle of wine, and answered for her.

‘Lifelong. Diehard. Like us for Birmingham.’

‘Really? That’s interesting.’

Ananya wondered what would be running through Jobe’s mind with this piece of information. Would he take her for a fan stalker? She couldn’t blame him for that line of thought - it would be a fair question to ask. Something that Jude had never bothered to ask.

But no question came, and she didn’t want to venture a clarification on her own.

Instead, a different question came.

‘So, when he fucks up on the pitch, do you give him stick as a fan or his girlfriend?’

‘I don’t fuck up.’

Both Jobe and Ananya ignored that, not even bothering to look at him.

‘Who says I give him stick?’

‘He does.’

As if the words weren’t enough, Jobe also pointed his fork at Jude.

Ananya turned sharply towards her uncomfortable boyfriend, cocking her head to the side.

‘Honesty. That’s what I meant.’

‘Did not.’

Jobe murmured while mock-coughing, bursting into a giggle and Ananya eventually joined him, chuckling at Jude’s misery.

It broke the ice between the two, but the cost was Jude’s annoyance. After a few moments, Ananya reached out to gently stroke his arm.

‘It’s fine. I do actually give him a hard time when he isn’t himself on the pitch.’

‘Good on you.’

Jobe nodded, and the conversation started flowing easily from thereon.

Ananya asked about how his season was going, and the boy’s eyes lit up. Passion for football was common between the brothers. As was their gratitude to be able to play professionally at big clubs. He opened up even more, telling her about the team and standings so far. Jude added titbits in the middle, as to how Jobe was more a striker like their dad, his pride for his baby brother all too visible in his eyes. 

Theirs was a special special bond - she could gather that in 20 mins with them. Denise & Mark should write parenting books. She’d tell them that when she……..no, let’s not go there.

Jobe was curious about her work, having heard a few details from Jude. He listened with rapt attention when she described (at a very surface level, in simple terms) some of the recent investment banking mandates she was working on.

‘So you’re smart smart then.’

‘Told ya.’

Jude chimed in again, as she looked between the two sheepishly.

‘Went to a fancy university I’m guessing?’

‘Yup - the best in India, right?’

Both sets of eyes turned on her, the praise making her a tad uncomfortable. 

‘Yeah, I mean, it’s supposed to be…yeah. Not a big deal really.’

She muttered under her breath, but it didn’t seem to register with them.

‘Also working on her Stanford MBA application.’

‘Cool.’

A few moments of silence then, and she thought they had moved on from the subject, thankfully. 

‘So what do you two talk about then?’

Jobe blurted out, smirking. The implication all too obvious. Ananya’s instinct was to laugh at the joke (the timing really made it funny) but she also wanted to come to Jude’s defence. 

Meanwhile, Jude threw a napkin at Jobe, completely unaffected by the banter, returning his brother’s playfulness.

Ananya reached out for Jude’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

‘Football. We started with football, and moving to Madrid.’

‘And bad Spanish.’

‘Yeah, that too.’

They smiled at each other fondly, reminiscing their first meeting in that sweet little cafe, and Jude leaned in to place an affectionate kiss on her cheek. Jobe leaned back in his chair, observing the two, but mostly his brother.

‘And then he blackmailed me with my love for RM.’

‘Guilty as charged.’

Jude raised his hand all too dramatically, as he proceeded to narrate the Clasico & Zidane story.

It was less than 2 months ago, but somehow felt like they had known each other for a lot longer. 

The evening went by pleasantly, with good food, good company and good conversation.

When they were having dessert (Jobe & Ananya, coz Jude still had a match left before the break so he had like 2 bites of the pudding), Ananya asked what she thought was a harmless question.

‘So, anyone special in your life?’

Jobe stilled, unsure how to answer that, and Jude looked down, smiling to himself.

She again looked between the two brothers, trying to decipher this unspoken language, and wondering why it was such a complicated question.

Then, an unpleasant thought hit her. What if the brothers had more aspects in common, like their approach to women? What if Jobe was how Jude used to be (before he met her)?

But the boy was 18, EIGHTEEN, for crying out loud. 

Though Jude was like that at 18 too. She had never gone into the specifics of his earlier life but had gathered enough to know it had been like that from 16-17, since his meteoric rise to fame.

She secretly hoped it wasn’t true for Jobe, who she saw more as a kid, as Jude’s baby brother. Jude would know of course, she could ask him later but she really didn’t want this piece of information.

Damnit, why did she have to bring up this topic and make things uncomfortable? The boy would think she’s nosy, like many others who must ask him such invasive personal questions. She shouldn’t have assumed it was a simple question; nothing was simple with these boys.

‘I’m sorry…..’

‘It’s complicated…..’

Both spoke at the same time. 

Ananya quickly took control of the situation, desperate to put this behind them.

‘Conversation for another time, yeah?’

‘Yup.’

Then she gave an irritated side-eye to Jude, who was still smiling to himself and hadn’t offered to help her or break the awkwardness in any way. Far too amused for her liking.

It was already 10:15 - 90 mins had flown by.

Wine, exhaustion and lack of sleep started to take its toll on her. She yawned, but quickly covered her mouth to not let it show, and started to walk around the living room to regain some energy.

‘Hey you guys were playing FIFA?’

‘Yup - we started when you texted you were gonna be late.’

‘Who won?’

‘Half-time. I’m up 2-0.’

Jude beamed, while sticking out his tongue to Jobe.

‘Please. He cheated, like always.’

‘I know right. He cheated with me too - no way I would have lost like that otherwise.’

‘Don’t wanna say sore losers but…..’

Jude shrugged. And the other two stared at him, thoroughly unamused.

‘Oh shut it. I’ve beaten you way too many times for you to be so smug.’

‘Ummm no you haven’t.’

‘You even checked the console once when you lost 4-0.’

‘Hit yourself in the head or something? Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh you don’t wanna admit in front of her, is it?’

‘There’s nothing to admit.’

‘You and me - now. Let’s finish the game.’

‘You’re on. That ok with you, dove?’

‘DOVE?’

‘Just zip it.’

Ananya was seated on the couch, going between the two like a tennis ball, realising she had accidentally opened a pandora’s box. Clearly another thing in common between the brothers - tough competitors, hated losing, especially when it came to any football related stuff.

‘I mean, yeah, fine with me.’

‘Cool.’

They moved in sync and sat on either side of her on the couch. Determined to make the other eat his words. Their large frame making her feel like a minion.

She noticed how they hid their hands from the other, to not let any hint slip by. This was going to be a hard fought war.

‘Gimme a good luck kiss.’

Without waiting for a response, Jude dove in for a quick peck on her lips.

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Yeah? Go get a girlfriend then.’

‘Isn’t it funny how you’ve NEVER said that to me or ANYONE before?’

Jude knew what Jobe was implying, and that he was right. His previous thoughts on relationships was definitely not something he was keen to discuss right now.

‘Just shut it & play, you donut.’

‘How’s donut even an insult? Seriously how do people call you smart & mature & ahead of your age?’

‘Because I AM THAT.’

‘Yeah, so mature yet doesn’t even know how to drive? You’re embarrassing, bro.’

‘BOYS, let’s go back to the game, yeah?’

Ananya was on the verge of bursting into a fit of giggles, multiple times during their (sometimes childish) banter. But somehow managed to keep a straight face.

‘And Jobe, good luck to you too.’

‘Thank you for being fair. Unlike him.’

Jude scoffed at his brother, then looked at Ananya questioningly. She shrugged, mouthing ‘it was the right thing.’

Jude scoffed again, and physically pulled Ananya close to his side. Jobe just shook his head at his childish antics.

An evil thought hit Jude then.

‘Jobe - why don’t you tell her what your fav team was growing up?’

‘Birmingham. Duhh.’

‘I mean, outside of Birmingham, you jerk.’

Jobe went quiet.

‘Ananya - can you guess?’

Jude had no intention of letting this go.

But how was she supposed to guess this?

‘Ummm United? Liverpool?’

‘Nope.’

Jude just looked victorious, while Jobe was avoiding her gaze.

Then it hit her why Jude would be asking her that.

‘NO.’

She turned towards Jobe, feeling betrayed.

Surely not that god-forsaken team. Not Madrid’s most bitter rivals. Not the club Ananya detested with a vengeance.

‘OH YES.’

Jude giggled next to her.

‘It was just for a year or so, like when I was 10 or something.’

Jobe muttered sheepishly, somehow sad about losing her favour. 

‘He even had a jersey. Wanna guess which one?’

‘OH GOD NO.’

‘Hey, that was a gift from my friend.’

‘Coz you loved him so much.’

Ananya just slid even closer to Jude on the couch, as if physically repulsed by the revelation. Jude gave himself a thunderous pat on his back. While Jobe looked at his brother with disgust, which Jude paid no attention to.

‘Like I said, it was just for a year.’

Jobe just left it out there. 

‘It’s fine.’

Ananya recovered from her initial shock, realising it was childish to hold that against him. Or anyone. She was still sticking to Jude though, subconsciously, which he liked very very much.

15 mins into the second half, the score was 2-1. A very tense, intense battle.

But she was struggling to keep her eyes open. It had been a long day, and a super long week. Her head leaned against Jude’s arm and Jude slid down into the couch so she could put her head on his shoulder. Which she gladly did. 

Jobe smiled to himself, not laced with sarcasm this time. He had just never seen his brother so attentive with a girl before. It was a different look on him, a good look, suited him somehow.

Ananya fought hard to keep her eyes open, but 5 mins later she was fully gone. Out like a light on Jude’s shoulder. Both her hands loosely wrapped around his elbow.

Jude paused the game, and Jobe yelled ‘what the fuck’ but shut up immediately when Jude shushed him, looking at Ananya’s sleeping form.

‘I’ll be back.’

Jude whispered softly, and moved carefully to pick her up. She stirred a little with the movement, her head finding its place in the crook of his neck. But his arms were familiar and comfortable.

‘What’s happening?’

She mumbled, half asleep. 

‘Taking you to bed.’

‘Mmmm but the game?’

‘It’s over.’

‘Who won?’

‘Who do you think?’

‘I knew it.’

Jude smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead, while carefully navigating the stairs. Her open hair were blocking his vision but he’d never tie them up willingly. 

He gently placed her on the bed, and she cocooned into her usual sleeping position. Jude tucked her in, but when he started to move away she felt around for his hand.

‘What happened, babe?’

‘You’re not coming in?’

‘Jobe needs a few things. Be back in a bit yeah?’

‘Ok, come soon.’

Jude kissed her forehead and she smiled in contentment, falling back to sleep in next 15 seconds. He turned down the lights and quietly made his way down.

The game somehow didn’t seem as important anymore. 

They finished it off soon. Jude won 3-2. A hard fought win. But he didn’t rub it in Jobe’s face much, given the way he was sulking already. In fact, Jude reached over, grabbed his face and gave him a sweet peck on his cheek. Jobe didn’t pull away from the warmth and comfort that was his brother. A steady presence by his side, always.

‘Hope I didn’t put you in trouble.’

Jobe said as they were wrapping up to go to bed.

‘Nah, its fine. And I got you back for that.’

‘Yeah that was evil.

‘Evil genius you mean.’

‘Just evil.’

‘Meh.’

Jude picked up her bag, her phone and some of his stuff as the brothers went up the stairs.

‘She’s nice.’

Jude turned back and smiled. Jobe smiled even more looking at his silly face.

‘She is, isn’t she?’

‘Who are you and what did you do to my commitment phobic brother?’

‘I honestly don’t know.’

‘It’s crazy though. Like look at you, bro. No one else knows?’

‘Nope.’

‘Didn’t think you had it in you to keep a secret for so long. Especially from mum.’

‘I think she kinda senses though, but just letting me be.’

‘She always lets you be when it comes to girls.’

‘Don’t start complaining now. She lets you be too.’

‘Rubbish. She refuses to acknowledge I’m a grown adult.’

‘Coz you don’t act like one.’

‘Please, like you had to talk to her when I wanted to take that trip this summer.’

‘Coz you are her baby.’

Jude shifted the stuff in his hands to put his arm around Jobe’s neck, pulling his brother into his side.

‘And mine too. You’re everyone’s baby.’

‘Stop calling me a baby.’

‘Then stop having that face.’

They mock wrestled for 30 seconds, before falling into a hug.

As they were about to enter their adjoining rooms, Jobe grabbed Jude’s arm.

‘You look happy, bro.’

‘I am happy.’

‘Then I’m happy for you.’

Jude gave him another kiss to his cheek, and Jobe just smiled affectionately at his overly touchy brother. Jobe was convinced Jude would die if someone tied his hands for a few hours. He couldn’t function without grabbing / hugging / touching the people he was close to.

‘Tell me what she says about me.’

‘Even if it’s bad?’

‘Yeah. But we both know she liked me, despite the fiasco you tried to cause.’

‘We’ll find out.’

‘Have you told her yet?’

‘Told her what?’

‘What you feel about her.’

‘Yeah I always tell her how pretty she is. How I love being around her. How happy she makes me.’

‘What else?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is that all you’ve told her?’

‘I mean - I tell her a lot of things. Good things. Seriously what do you mean?’

Jobe just shook his head in amusement. Sometimes he couldn’t understand how he was the younger one and Jobe was supposed to be the older one. His brother could be so thick sometimes, not seeing the obvious, not seeing what Jobe could see in a few hours. It was written all over his lovesick face.

But it was not his place to intervene. Not unless Jude fucks up somehow and needs Jobe to spell it out to him. Hopefully they won’t come to that. 

‘Nothing. Was just saying generally. Night, bro.’

‘Night, BABY.’

‘Such a prick.’

Jobe muttered under his breath as he shut the door in Jude’s face.

Jude retuned to his room, hearing Ananya softly snoring under the covers. He really should record that sometime, because she flatly refused to acknowledge her snoring. It was cute though, so he let the sham continue.

He removed the covers to see if she managed to get up & change. But she hadn’t. Still out like a light. It was a torture not being able to do what he wanted with that dress, and with her. 

But he’ll have to wait till morning. 

The stockings looked super uncomfortable to sleep in so he decided to take those off. He had wondered all night how high they went up her legs. Turned out they went super high, till her upper thighs. He reached for the ends, and slowly pulled them down, one by one, letting his fingers graze her legs in the process. Then he lifted her fitted dress up to her waist, letting her have some flexibility to move her legs while asleep. The whole thing he didn’t wanna take off, not wanting to test his restraint that much.

Morning couldn’t come fast enough.

When she felt the bed dip next to her, she automatically moved towards the source of that movement, into his waiting arms. He pulled her into his side, letting her find a comfortable spot to snuggle into. The sound of her soft snores and the feel of her soft body lulling him to sleep, despite a certain part of his anatomy demanding his attention. He willed that part to calm down, promising it enough attention in the morning. Right now, what he had in his arms was more important. 

Jobe’s words rang in his mind.

Yes, Jude was happy. He was very happy being with her.

...................................................................

There you go.

Honestly, after the events of last few days, I didn't think I'd come back to writing this soon. But your messages brought me back. I love love love reading those. Thank you so much for all the love you shower on Jude & Ananya.

And yes - Ch 15 is clear in my head too :)

[yannaryartside]

SYDNEY'S PART

THE ANALOGY OF THE PARTNER WITH ADDICTION

I just realized this parallel, and I have questions and feelings.

This second scene was one of the most frustrating moments for me, and that is saying a lot. It made me realize the crucial factor that could contribute to Sydcarmy not working despite the underlying feelings and connection.

The scene is obviously about how Sydeny feels guilty for not being able to stand to Carmy and make him stop the chaos. Maybe is also about feeling sad because she doesn't think that he wants to change for her, because if that were the case, he would have done it already. He has verbalized that intention and always, always, leaves her alone and behind (It is hard to keep with you sometimes).

I have been wrestling with the theory that Carmy's and Syd's relationship is acting as an analogy for an addict and their romantic partner. I have been reading this book: Loving someone in recovery. I still need to finish it, but it has given me some ideas. More extended meta-analyses on this subject are coming up. But I wanna concentrate on what the scene is hitting at (I miss ao3).

Notice in Brigade, the woman also says, "until the chemistry changes.", then in the very next scene, you have Sydney decipher a recipe just by chemistry logic, leaving Carmy impressed, and right after, carmy puts Sydney in charge of the restaurant. The clues are all there.

Also, notice how the woman at AA refers to the abuse of substances, but in Carmy's case, it also means abuse in the literal sense, verbal, psychological, and physical abuse.

The show has many scenes in which Sydney treats Carmy's issues with compassion and a firm hand.

"I don't want to be an asshole" "Don't be" aka: I know you know what is right and wrong despite feeling like shit, don't let it get over you.

She keeps her cool while Carmy makes impossible demands and screams. She helps Tina with her dish and completes the task without ever insulting or yelling back at anybody. The toxic techniques that Carmy learned that worked in the culinary industry, she refuses to accept as the norm. She is a chef Terry.

Finding the positive in the worst circumstances, aka, saying Cicero "You are here" or encouraging Richie and the staff. Even reviewing Carmy's recipes with patience and humor

"Is hard to keep with you sometimes' is key word here sometimes, aka: "because the problem is your issues, not you. You are a good person who is deeply hurting, but your actions have consequences for me and the people around you".

The thing is, if we are gonna talk about a partner with addiction, we need to establish the problem (the trauma) and the drugs. I remember watching a movie about addiction, a nurse saying, "Drugs are never the problem (for an addict), they are the solution.

So, the problem (the trauma)

The drug (solution)

You already know my theory that Claire is the equivalent of painkillers/anesthesia. A shallow but pleasing relationship that is always available to attend to your flaws without ever being actual medicine. Because to get better, painkillers are never enough.

BACK TO SYD

Syd really doesn't believe she has a say in what Carmy wants, (God she even believes she is not what Carmy wants, because he wants Claire, that is what it seems to her) just right before this dialogue, she asks him "Do you want me to say something?", from reading the book, it really reminded me of a partner feeling abandoned when the addict would resource to their drug of use to feel good or set back to old habits. That would leave the partner frustrated, depressed, and angry.

To be fair, the fact that Carmy is his boss should be added to the equation. They cannot even be called friends, so why should Sydney say something? Carmy is 24/7 in defense mode, saying things like "You don't have to say it, I already know."

He offered Syd equal partnership, but she didn’t get it. If they had been equal partners she definitely has the power to say something. But she didn’t take the offer, maybe because she suspected (or feared) they would never be on equal ground.

THE KEY QUESTION IS, WHAT DOES SYDNEY SAY?

I am genuinely curious about this. Is Syd (or her leaving) supposed to be a wake-up call to Carmy? That he fucked up something that brought him genuine joy and connection because Syd knew the real him, while Claire liked Logan and Carmy's brokenness? The way Claire would enable him in his bad tendencies? How is he gonna realize all that?

Sydney needs more emotional resources when it comes to conflict resolution. So far, her techniques have been using patience and love (water) against toxicity and bad patterns (fire). There is definitely a need for that. That is what turned everybody around and helped them become their best selves. But it has a toll. And she started the season with "I don't know what the fuck to do right now" and ended the season without a solution. Maybe walking away is the solution.

SYDNEY'S PART

What could this mean for Syd? Sydney may confront Carmy or not. I guess we will have to see.

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day fourteen

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : angst, fluff, overthinking, mentions of drinking, mentions of throwing up

length : 6k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens @sunsshinesunny

a/n : sorry about the delay!!! I'm going on holiday and it was all very stressful and hectic and then we had to figure out how to get to the airport tomorrow morning because the trains are suddenly not running lmao but here it is!!!

•••

day fourteen

“You… you told-”

Noah didn’t even manage to say it out loud. He didn’t need to. Oli and I were just as aware of the fucking blunder we’d just made. The one that might change everything now.

We should have told him earlier. We should have told him, period. Not risked letting him find out. We’d truly fucked up. Too wrapped up in our own happiness and love to really grasp the consequences. How ridiculously selfish of us.

The room had fallen awkwardly silent, or maybe the ringing in my ears was simply tuning out everything else. Either way, there were still people around us, people who had no business listening in to this, people who didn’t need to know anything about our situation. I wasn’t actually sure if anyone even cared - but all the people running around us were distracting at best. Oli seemed to think the same.

“My dressing room, now,” he simply said, no harshness in his order, yet none of us would have dared to decline.

No more words were exchanged as we made our way through the labyrinthine hallways of the arena. We didn’t touch each other, suddenly hyperaware of every single one of our movements, as if they would be watched and analysed and scrutinised. All of us kept our heads down as we passed by a multitude of people and the general vibe we were giving off seemed to do enough to keep everyone else away. We weren’t in the mood for small talk. Or any talk at all that didn’t include just the three of us.

Oli held the door open for us as we passed him, then shut it after he had entered himself. I’d never felt this out of place in my life. The chaotic, stuffed dressing room that had started to feel close to a second home, even if the actual location kept changing, now did nothing but suffocate me. All of us lingered in the middle of it. No one sat down. As if comfort wasn’t allowed.

“How long?” Noah’s voice seemed painfully loud in the quiet dressing room. The door shut out the noise from outside remarkably well.

“Two days ago,” Oli answered, as if it was no bother at all, as if this wasn’t potentially the most crucial conversation the three of us had ever had, but I could see it in his eyes, in the way he tried to hide his hands fumbling with nothing in particular. “I didn’t mean to say it, then. I mean, I love her, but it just tumbled out of my mouth, really.”

“We didn’t mean to keep it a secret from you,” I added. My whole body ached to reach out to Noah, but the fear of how badly the rejection would sting kept me frozen in place. “We meant to talk to you, there just… We didn’t know how or when. I know that’s the shittiest excuse ever. We should have made the right moment to tell you.”

“So what does that mean now,” Noah all but interrupted. His eyes were flicking back and forth between Oli and me, restless and nervous. He didn’t even seem to process any of the information we’d just told him, even if his brain was probably going a hundred miles an hour. “You two are… a thing. And you still fucked me this morning. Why?”

It was my turn to be stunned. Did he really not know? Was he so completely unaware? Or was he simply trying to shield himself, ignore everything that had happened between the three of us in the past two weeks? Because in my mind, there was no way he didn’t know that this was more than just the three of us fucking around. Or me and Oli getting together. In all the ways that we had complicated and confused this whole thing, it had always been about the three of us. Surely.

“Because we love you, you fucking idiot!”

The outburst pierced the silence painfully but it wasn’t until Noah and Oli both stared at me in shock that the realisation dawned that it had been my outburst. I was the one shouting these words. But as soon as it sunk in, I knew I wasn’t done. Some invisible dam had burst - I was going to speak my mind and I was going to speak it now. No more holding back for the sake of others or blindly agreeing for fear of rejection or letting anyone else take the lead.

“This wasn’t just some weird ploy to get Oli and me together and you get stranded on the sidelines. This has been about the three of us from the start and you know it. So what if Oli and I got there first. I’ve been ready to shout about my feelings for you from the rooftops for days now, Noah. But I didn’t. Because I knew it would scare you away. And I was desperate, Noah, desperate for that not to happen.”

I took a breath, trying to keep a hold of myself, trying not to unravel. I willed the tears in my eyes to disappear but all that happened was that one escaped me and dramatically slid down my face. Noah, somehow, was the first one to react, wiping it away so softly that another immediately followed.

“Every time Oli and I are alone, it feels like a part of us is missing. Like the bed is too big, even when it really isn’t. Or there’s a remark hanging in the room that you would make but you’re not there to say it. I don’t want to do this without you. I want you. I don’t know how this is going to work and I don’t really care because I know we’ll figure it out. I’m in love with you, Noah.”

I couldn’t deal with the way he was looking at me. Especially because I, for once, felt so completely, wholly unable to analyse it at all. Was it pity? Oncoming rejection? Insecurity? Love? I could only hope for the latter, but my emotions were running amok in my body and there was no certainty in anything anymore. In anything but the fact that I was so in love.

Noah was still standing in front of me, but his hand wasn’t on my face anymore and I missed it dearly. All I wanted was to throw myself into his arms and beg him to give the three of us a chance. But this was on him, and him alone.

“She’s right, you know?” Oli piped up next to me. He was much braver than me, pulling Noah close, putting his hand to the other man’s neck and letting their foreheads rest against each other. “We’re not complete without you. I… Noah, I’m in love with you. And, fuck, I never thought I’d say that to a man, but here we are.”

He kissed Noah then, deeply and passionately. It was all he could do. I only hoped it would be enough.

“We don’t want to rush you, Noah. But that’s where we’re at and I… I would hate for this tour to be over with unspoken things lingering between us. So, I don’t know, take some time, talk to us or don’t if you need to be by yourself, whatever you need. But, please, think about it. About us. It’s the only thing I’m asking you for.”

Noah nodded, keeping his head hanging low and staring at the ground now that Oli wasn’t holding him up anymore. I let my hand drift to his jaw, making him look at me. I simply needed to press a kiss to his mouth. The chances that I might not get to do it again were too high.

He felt sweet against me, reciprocating the kiss with a familiarity I had grown so accustomed to. But he didn’t initiate anything else. I let go of him and stepped back.

“I’ll give you an answer. Tonight. I promise.”

Believing in him was all Oli and I could do.

•••

It felt wrong to sleep alone. If I’d already been lamenting the fact that Noah was missing when it was just Oli and me, I’d completely forgotten just how awful it would feel to have neither of them next to me in bed. The cold was seeping into my bones, one that couldn’t be fixed with any number of blankets or heating in the room. I missed feeling their bodies around me, feeling the mattress move every time they shuffled. Missed their hands on me, their chests pressed against my own and my back. Their slowing breathing filling the room with the slightest noises that had me drifting off to sleep so easily. Now I was too cold and the room was too quiet and my brain was too loud.

We had tried to be reasonable about it, really. We’d gotten a ride back to the hotel together and while I tried to savour every moment with them, it had been the most awkward situation we’d managed to find ourselves in just yet. When we had lingered in the hotel hallway, unsure of how to proceed from here, Noah had said that he needed some time to think, alone, and that it would probably be for the best if he just went back to his room with Jolly. We’d bid him goodnight, not attempting to kiss or hug him or initiate any other physical contact, and he’d ended up waving before walking down the corridor. Like a stranger.

Then it had just been Oli and me, again. I’d made him hold me, for a while, needing the closeness and the reassurance that we could somehow be fine whatever happened now, but we didn’t talk. Only to agree that we should sleep separately for once. It simply felt… wrong to allow ourselves to spend the night in an attempt at what would hopefully become a steady relationship when Noah was still struggling and confused and neither part of it nor outside of it. Plus, I knew fully well that we would end up talking the whole night, not getting a wink of sleep and instead stressing ourselves out even further.

Not that I was getting much rest on my own now.

Picking up my phone, I once again, for what felt like the seventieth time that night, opened our group chat. There wasn’t very much in there to be honest. Most of the time, it was easy enough to locate each other in the venues or their rooms. And if I was looking for someone specific, I usually ended up texting just that person. The other one was probably with one of us already anyway.

Still.

My fingers hovered over the screen. And then they typed, before I could stop them. I clicked the sent button as soon as the last letter had appeared. Just to make sure I wouldn’t back out again. Then I chucked the phone as far away from me as I could while still being able to hear my alarm in a few hours and turned around, hoping for sleep to come, hoping for my brain to give me some peace for at least a while. Hoping those two men would feel the same way I did when they read my message.

I miss you already.

•••

I ended up running late which was something that rarely happened and tended to be in my top ten most stressful situations in life. I had been so preoccupied with leaving on time or at least not too late to make my flight to Dublin that I didn’t even remember to check my messages until I was in the car to the airport.

Noah Can we talk tonight? The guys want to go out but maybe after?

There was about an hour of nothing in the chat, I presumed Oli was asleep or simply not checking his phone at that time, before another message from him came through.

Noah I miss you too Both

Then silence, again, for a few hours. Oli had apparently gotten up earlier than I had and, somehow, had been more organised. Or at least enough to text.

Oli Think everyone’s keen on going out tonight We can meet up at the hotel afterward? My room? Please don’t make me stay on my own again, I couldn’t even get any rest without you (Aubrey) clinging to my shirt until it almost choked me and you (Noah) terrifying me with your sleep talking in the middle of the night

I wasn’t going to cry in the cab. Even if I did end up clutching the phone to my heart as if it physically held the people I loved and not just the messages they had left. Maybe it was going to be alright after all. Maybe we could make this work. Maybe, even tonight already, we would be right where we were supposed to be - next to each other.

I didn’t get a chance to reply as the driver pulled up to the airport. But I would get to talk to them later tonight, at the very latest. And that made my heart that little bit lighter.

•••

“I’ll let you know that I was only slightly panicked about you missing the flight,” Becky said as I reached my gates, mere moments before boarding was about to start. I huffed at her, pretending it was because I was shocked at how little faith she had in me, not because I was legitimately out of breath.

“Which would have been annoying but not the end of the world, pretty sure there's more fights from here to Dublin than just this one today.”

“Not if they all get cancelled because of the storm.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “Storm?”

“Yeah, it's pretty windy already so it's not clear whether later flights will go ahead. Wait, you don't look too well - are you- are you afraid of flying?”

“I'm afraid of turbulences,” I admitted.

“Well, then,” Becky said, reaching into her bag as she ushered me towards the counter where they'd just started boarding. “Here's to hoping your surprises will keep you occupied!”

“Wait- plural?”

She didn’t feel the need to answer me as she instead pushed me forward to get my ticket checked and then ushered down the way toward the plane. I was already on the aircraft when she caught up with me, briefly waiting as I took my assigned seat in the middle, which was only bearable because the window seat was taken by Noah. He sent me a tired smile, making me wonder how much rest he’d gotten during the night, as I slid into the row.

“Have fun!” Becky squealed, putting a folder in my hands and vanishing down the aisle of the plan before I could stop her. I briefly looked from the now vacant spot to the folder to Noah, who had a small but knowing smile on his face.

I quickly stored my luggage and got comfortable - as comfortable as possible on a flight - and only got briefly interrupted when Oli walked down the aisle next to me, throwing a kiss in my direction the way he had done the night before, then throwing another to Noah, who accepted it with the blush I had grown to love so much on his cheeks.

“Do you know what this is about?” I asked as more and more people filled up the plane, boarding finally finishing and the crew getting ready for takeoff.

“Maybe,” he chuckled, giving me one more look that I couldn’t quite get a grasp on, then busying himself in the comic in his hands, one I recognised he’d bought on our trip to Forbidden Planet a while ago.

Realising I wasn’t going to get any more information out of him, I decided I might as well try to preoccupy myself with figuring out what exactly Becky had given me during take off. It was the worst part of the flight anyway. Well, minus the landing. And any turbulences.

However, there simply had to be one more interruption.

“Is this seat taken?”

Confused, I looked up from the folder, already questioning what sense that question could possibly make on a fight with assigned seating, when my eyes spotted-

“Lia!”

I tried to jump up but the seatbelt I'd already buckled painfully pulled me back. Noah quickly reached over to undo it as I stood up, folder almost crashing to the floor, my arms wrapping around my best friend as if I hadn't seen her for years. It felt like it.

A stern look from one of the flight attendants had us sit down immediately, getting settled and ready for take off.

“What are you doing here? I don't understand!”

“Did you know Becky is super nice and also definitely able to bully people into giving her my number and telling me to get my ass here?”

“Wait, so-”

“Well, apparently Oli requested my presence too,” she continued, completely unfazed by my questions, “and we both know he's asking for you and not because he loves me so much. Also the hotel had a free room for the next two nights, how handy, right? So here I am, taking you out drinking tonight and trying to punch some sense into all of you guys. Hi, Noah!”

Noah waved awkwardly and then handed me back the folder I had almost forgotten about. He just have caught up when I'd almost dropped it.

“Have you read it yet?” Lia asked, almost jumping in her seat. I shook my head and then buried it in the papers in front of me.

Nothing made sense.

I skimmed through the pages, then back to the first one, as if it might just have been my English skills inexplicably leaving me, but no. I was seeing - and reading - correctly. With a frown so tight it almost hurt the skin on my forehead, I read through the contents, properly now, absorbing every word.

I wasn’t sure how long I took, flipping through the pages, back and forth, just to make sure I was reading correctly, that I wasn’t hallucinating these words, that this was for real.

“This- I mean… I-”

“You're getting an apprenticeship, Aubrey!” Lia shouted so loudly that someone from the row in front of us turned around with a frown. “Becky asked the company she works for and they're offering it to you. Said that the past two days were basically your try-outs. You're gonna be a sound technician! Well, if you accept, of course.”

“Oh my god,” I mumbled, flipping through the pages again, and again. This whole thing felt like a fever dream I was not ready to wake up from. “And in a few days I would-”

“Come on tour with us and shadow Becky,” Noah completed my sentence. “Not the most conventional way to start learning the basics, but when have any of us ever been. Conventional, that is.”

I didn't have time to think about the implications of his words or how they could translate to a completely different issue too. All I could do was put a hand over my mouth in shock and cease to fight against the tears that were starting to spill down my cheeks in abundance. Both Noah and Becky hugged me as much as they possibly could with all of us stuck in our seats. Even the turbulence couldn't faze me anymore.

Life might actually be looking up.

•••

If there was one thing Lia knew how to do, it was how to keep me occupied and distracted. We spent most of the day chatting, which included a lot of me rambling about my chaotic love life - I only cried once - and her fawning over her wife and how she needed a change of occupation too. On top of that, we decided to have lunch at the hotel restaurant, where we promptly bumped into Becky, who allowed me to ask all the questions about the internship offered and then almost bowled me over in my chair when I asked the waiter for a pen to sign the contract straight away.

Since all of us had the night off, we ended up agreeing over several different group chats to go out big style - crew, Bad Omens, Bring Me The Horizon, well, and Lia. Even though she had a room of her own, she’d practically gathered half her suitcase and made a home in mine as we got ready together.

Yet, all she seemed to do was veto every outfit I showed her until we finally landed on an oversized pullover I used as a dress (just about sexy enough for her, comfortable enough for me, who wasn’t actually looking to attract anyone new that evening) and a pair of fishnet tights that would do nothing at all to protect me from the January cold but would hopefully look less out of place once we were inside again.

“So, what’s the plan with Noah, then?” Lia asked as she dropped down on my bed, spilling some of the setting powder in her hand and then trying to rub it into the duvet as if I hadn’t seen. “Because all I see right now is you and Oli sitting around waiting.”

“What else is there to do?” I sighed. I genuinely felt at a loss. We’d put the ball in his court. We’d told him how we felt. We left the decision up to him. But would all of that be enough?

“What’s the biggest issue right now? Like, what’s his fears?”

“Probably that Oli and I have a stronger connection with each other than either of us has with him. That we already know each other so well that he’ll be the one left out.”

“Sounds like you guys need more time together. The three of you. Completely ignoring what you and Oli might know about each other from before and just focus on finding yourselves in this relationship now.”

The silence lingered for a moment as both of us got lost in our thoughts, the mascara I was in the middle of applying now forgotten in my hand. I stared at myself in the mirror, made up and dressed up, and wondered who I was. Someone in love. Someone who was willing to fight for it. I was so over being passive.

“What can I do?”

“Well, first of all, put mascara on the other eye too because you look very asymmetrical.”

I rolled my eyes but did as she said, knowing that if I got too carried away, I’d completely forget about the rest of my makeup anyway.

“Give yourselves more time?” Lia offered.

“Tour ends tomorrow,” I thought out loud. “The Bad Omens tour isn’t until the 27th and the flight to Berlin is on the 26th. Now, I know Oli is completely free the next few days and I can ask around again but I’m pretty sure Noah has a break until then as well.”

Lia simply let out a hum in the background of my monologue, just to let me know she was still listening as I started scrolling through my phone, typing and searching.

“Fuck it,” I decided. “I’m booking us a family room for the next few days after tour. Nice hotel, just outside of Dublin. No distractions, no one else we know around us, no shows, no appointments, nothing. Just the three of us. There. Booked. Do you think the hotel can print something for me?”

Lia looked at me like a proud parent which was unnerving at best but I ignored it.

“I’m sure Oli would love to go and ask with you,” she grinned as I pulled on my shoes and was already halfway out the door, jacket and bag at the ready.

“Meet you downstairs in a few?”

“Will do! Don’t get distracted by Oli’s dick!”

•••

“What if he doesn’t even notice?”

“Of course he’ll fucking notice.”

“You don’t know that! He might not look this way and then just stumble over it!”

“What if we knock?”

“But we’re supposed to drop it off without him seeing!”

“Fine. I’ll knock and we’ll run and hide around the corner.”

“What are we, five?”

“Yes. I’m knocking now.”

I quickly dropped the printed paper along with the post-it stuck on top to the floor as Oli all but pounded on Noah’s hotel room door before bolting down the hallway with me and stopping just around the corner, pulling each other to safety and then peeking around just as we saw him step out, confused. We stayed hidden until we heard the door fall back into its lock and then spared another glance to make sure he had picked up our notes.

“You think he’s going to do it? Come with us for another few days?”

“Well, a luxurious hotel and both of us, he’d be stupid to refuse,” Oli chuckled, but I could tell the anxiety weighed on him just as heavily. There wasn’t much more to do, really. We’d told him about our feelings. We wanted to spend the small break that all of us had together, no distractions, just getting to know each other better and figuring out how this could work. It was truly his turn now.

“Come on, stop worrying that pretty head of yours so much,” Oli said, pressing a kiss to it. “Let’s get Lia and see what Dublin has to offer, yeah?”

I simply let myself fall into his arms a little as he led us toward the lifts, ready to forget about the ache in my heart just for a while.

•••

The night ended up not being all that wild, after all. Everyone was feeling the exhaustion from the past two weeks on tour. It didn’t mean that the pub we had all gathered it wasn’t in danger of running out of spirits, though. The mood was high and the volume in the room seemed to be getting louder by the minute. I’d already saved various people from Lia various times because if someone didn’t know how to shut her mouth when intoxicated, it was her. I’d currently lost track of her once again which was slightly worrying, but the more drinks Becky was providing me with, the less I cared. Her husband wasn’t back company either, although he seemed ever so slightly overwhelmed with the rowdy crowd around us.

“Are you excited to go on the Bad Omens tour then?” He asked, an arm around Becky, who was currently distracted by someone else who was telling her about some sound system or other, and I only briefly let myself fall into the yearning of having that kind of stable relationship, the kind of love that people would see from miles away without any of us doing anything, the kind of connection that shone through even when we weren’t talking.

“Did everyone but me know about this?”

“Well, yes,” he laughed. “As far as I know it was a joint venture, Becky, Lia, Oli and Noah all huddled together to make this happen. I guess you’re very loved.”

“God, don’t make me sappy now,” I chuckled but it was nothing but an attempt to keep the tears at bay. I’d been crying entirely too much lately, for a number of reasons, and I was getting a little tired of it.

I excused myself momentarily, citing a bathroom break, but found myself standing outside the pub instead. The cold air sent shivers up and down my body, but I didn’t mind all that much. It was a nice reminder that I wasn’t only in my head. That I was here right now. I flinched when a hand landed on my waist, a gesture so strangely intimate I knew it to be Noah before I registered anything else.

“So you two really want to spend more time with me alone after this tour?” he asked, jokingly, but he couldn’t fool me. I could see the insecurity in his eyes, in the way he stood, in the way his hand lingered on my body without quite grabbing it.

“Noah, love, I’ll always want to spend more time with you.” My hand was on his chest now, hard and lean under my fingertips, and it took all the strength I possessed not to pull him in and kiss him stupid. “If your tour wasn’t coming up so soon after, I’d probably have booked us in for a month.”

His fingers ildly played with the fabric of my makeshift dress. “Maybe-”

The door from the pub banged open with more force than it should have been able to. A rather tipsy Lia stumbled out, obnoxiously pointing at Noah as she came over.

“You! Folio threw up on the bar and they’re kicking him out and I’ve been told you’re the one to bother. He needs to get back to the hotel and you guys are sharing right? Come on. I’ll help.”

Noah sighed, deeply, but looked at me once more before turning away. “Can we talk later? The three of us? Not in my room though, for obvious reasons.”

“Sure,” I chuckled. “Oli’s room later? We can shoot you a text.”

“Perfect,” he said and then he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips and I could really believe this was going to work out.

•••

The night was dying down earlier than I would have expected, but both Oli and Mat kept loudly complaining that they were not 25 anymore after all. I bit back a comment about how that luckily hadn’t impacted Oli’s performance in bed. As more and more people started leaving, Oli clung to me, leaning his body on me with much more force than necessary, then giggling at the way I almost buckled under his weight. He was a little tipsy, just on the verge of it, and it made him all kinds of needy and whiny. Although I wasn’t quite sure if that was actually down to the alcohol or if he was simply in a mood.

“I want Noah,” he mumbled into my ear as he rested his head on my shoulder. It seemed horribly uncomfortable with the height difference, but I patted his hair in what I hoped would be a calming and reassuring gesture anyway. “I miss Noah.”

“I know, baby,” I cooed. “Do you want to go back to the hotel? I can shoot him a text.”

“Please.”

The cold outside seemed to wake and sober him up considerably as we got into a cab to get back to the hotel. He immediately pulled me into the middle seat, claiming the distance was simply unacceptable.

“Thank you for helping with the job situation, by the way,” I whispered, as if it was a secret, just for the two of us. “The job, offering me a place to stay, getting me on this tour in the first place… I really don’t know how to ever thank you for everything you do for me, Oli.”

He grabbed my face then, gently, so I would look at him. Then he kissed me so deeply that I was getting lightheaded, all sensations swimming through my brain in one big mush as I allowed myself to drown in them, knowing he was holding me and keeping me safe.

“You could keep on loving me, that’s all I’ll ever ask for.”

“Well, that’s going to be very easy,” I giggled, pressing a kiss to his nose right as the driver announced our arrival.

The hotel was quiet as soon as we left the reception area. I wondered if Noah was still busy taking care of Folio. If I should text him immediately and ask him to come over. If he wanted to talk to us yet. My train of thought was interrupted when we arrived on our floor and none other than Lia left Noah and Folio’s room, quickly running over to us as I shushed her for being too loud in her heels.

“He’s finally stopped puking,” she gleefully announced. “I’m off to bed now. Noah… Well, get to your room. He’ll get in touch?”

“He’ll- what?” I asked, but Lia was already bouncing down the hallway again, refusing to stop for clarification. Oli simply shrugged his shoulders as he unlocked the door and held it open for me.

It only took a few moments.

The knock wasn’t as much as a surprise, considering we were basically waiting for Noah, but the fact that no one was there when we opened it felt a bit comical. Especially when we realised a folded up piece of paper was on the floor in front of us.

“This feels like payback,” Oli laughed breathlessly, quite obviously just as nervous about this as I was. I refused to let the overthinking get the better of me though as I bent down to pick it up and unfolded it while Oli closed the door again. When I saw the amount of text, I ushered him in the direction of the bed so we could sit on the edge and read it together. He had to help hold onto it so we could still be make out the words amid my shaking.

Aubrey, Oli, my loves.

I’ve spent the last day doing very little else but think about everything. I’ve been trying to find a winner in the war that kept waging in my head but it seemed impossible.

Well, Lia didn’t allow that. She’s quite a force, isn’t she? As soon as Folio was in bed, she basically held me at gunpoint (figuratively) while she told me what she thought about the situation and how much of a “fucking useless idiot” I was being. Then she made me write a pro and contra list on the back of this page because apparently that’s what she does when she can’t make a decision. I’m not sure if buying a new phone quite compares to this, but I humoured her. And I think it helped. Just don’t tell her that.

Noah

There was a slightly messed up heart drawn next to it. The hope was rising up in my throat like bile, threatening to make me throw up just from the sheer terror and excitement about what was happening. We were so close to an answer. This was the moment.

Oli nodded at me to turn the paper over as soon as he was also done reading. He looked white as a sheet and I was sure my own face mirrored it. My shaky fingers only got worse when I flipped the page over.

There was indeed a list in front of us. Lots of entries on the “pro” side. Ranging from “They make me laugh” to “I feel safe with them” and “They know I’m scared and they don’t mind”. The contra side was shorter, but still held a few bulletpoints. “The distance”, “Third wheel” and “How to make this work??” were scribbled there.

But none of that was the important part.

The important part was that the list had been crossed out, liberally, with a massive “x” over the whole page, making it a little harder to read some of the points. And in the middle of it, almost from one corner to the other, covering even more words, he had written one single sentence. One sentence that seemed to count more than all the others. That made everything else not matter. That made clear that he had come to a decision.

I AM IN LOVE WITH THEM.

[bekkandaa]

What's your opinion on his Pureblood views / views on muggles?

Oh boy, here we go. This is what I would like to think as a controversial thing, especially considering Riddle as many have different opinions about his views on pure-blood supremacy. However, the way I am analysing Riddle is more looking at his psychological background and so that's how I'll answer this. ( I was quite literally clawing at the bars of my enclosure to not go into a spiel about the politics of it and stay purely psychological.)

Tom Riddle, as a student at Hogwarts, exhibited an attractive persona—talented, polite, charming, and intellectual. Despite his outward charisma and the group of 'friends' he had gathered, it is clear that Riddle harboured no genuine affection for them. Instead, he exploited these individuals, which no doubt shows his want for domination and control of others. This charismatic behaviour is simply a façade, a social mask he uses.

Riddle's public persona can be understood through the lens of pathological narcissism. All humans naturally present a public mask, but for a pathological narcissist, the discrepancy between this mask and the concealed self is honestly stark. Riddle's charming demeanour was used as a strategy to attracted admirers who no doubt fed his own narcissistic needs. This mask is also used to protect his false self from exposure, maintaining his grandiose self-image.

The narcissist's primary goal is to protect and sustain this concocted self-image. This can be visualised as a wheel, where the grandiose false-self is the hub, to which are affixed spokes. These have a specific purpose to protect and sustain the hub of false-self.

Freud's theory on the oral phase highlights the crucial role of the mother in a child's early development, fostering a sense of comfort and dependency to the mother. According to Minderop, parental influence can change the development of the human personality. Looking at these theories, who both stress the importance of parental involvement early in development and how detrimental the lack of it could be, we can attribute Riddle's lack of parental affection and the resulting emotional deprivation significantly contributing to his behaviour and attitudes. These theories support the idea of how Riddle had never seen anyone as an equal, clearly taking advantages of his followers and viewing them as below him.

Riddle's identity and beliefs were deeply intertwined with his blood status. Discovering his ancestry linked to Salazar Slytherin, which would boost his ego and sense of self incredibly, fuelling his delusions on his "idealised parent image." Then came along the revelation of his Muggle father, which shattered his preconceived notions of heritage. This discovery would obviously induce an identity crisis in the boy, igniting a war within him between the person he wants to be and the reality of who he really is. This internal conflict most likely manifested in his actions, such as punishing his father and changing his name. (Riddle's mental breakdown and identity-crisis explained more here.)

Freud states that human behaviour is more influenced by the unconscious mind than the conscious one. The unconscious mind is filled by the human’s painful memories and then tries to protect the conscious mind by hiding them. This can influence someone’s attitude, behaviour and character. For Riddle, the painful memories of his heritage continually resurfaced, despite his unconscious minds attempt to hide them. This is something that is extremely relevant to his views on pure-blood supremacy. He attempts to eradicate his past, such as changing his name to Lord Voldemort and creating Horcruxes show his struggle with his own identity clearly.

(I’m sure we all know what Voldemort actually means. Ironically enough, Riddle was so grandiose ( what a romantic, no really, he was.) as to aim to transcend humanity, (changing his name, horcruxes etc.) that by refusing to accept the inevitably of death, he also practically announces his own humanity to the world.)

Riddle's descent into blood supremacy was fuelled by a combination of person and political factors. There is the abuse he suffered from Muggles, the war he had experienced, the prejudices he encountered in Slytherin, the group of followers he gathers, and his psychopathic tendencies that all contribute to his ideology. ( Riddle cravings of power and the feeling of being in control added onto everything else, honestly makes me think of only one thing; revolution. )

Riddle's appeal to pure-blood ideologies served his ambitions, allowing him to manipulate and control those who would've previously have looked down on him. This pursuit of power mirrors the actions of many world leaders and revolutionaries who sought to reshape the world according to their ideal image. The ideal image is fuelled by internal conflict between his own past and his preconceived ideas.

(This was most likely the intended purpose for his character, as he himself is a malignant narcissist, and many psychiatrists have identified a direct connection between malignant narcissists and evil. Many well-known malignant narcissists are also serial killers and mass murderers.)

Little note I also wanted to add on even if it delves more into Voldemort territory than Riddle; Voldemort seems to punish the Pure-bloods. What I mean by this is, is that Riddle seems to be taking out the fact these pure-bloods are not the ones to usually do this kind of 'dirty work' . He seems to enjoy making them do things that they would normally view as beneath them, it's a power trip. This seems to be more retribution on his end, considering the fact despite how hard he tries he will never be a pure-blood and will never be able to leave his past behind him. (what a petty man ) TLDR : Looking into Riddle's views on Pureblood supremacy reveals a complex interplay of narcissism, early developmental influences, and political motivations.

[velvetvexations]

Baffling that that person truly cant understand what the socialization post is saying- the whole point is that male/female socialization is something that other people inflict upon you, absolutely nothing to do with your actual identity or internal experience. It's very clear that her only problem with it is exactly the problem the post brings up, that it hurts her feelings and makes her feel dysphoric to think about the world thinking of her as a man at any point, and therefore she not only doesn't want to hear about it, but also everyone else should structure their conversations and analyses of gender and society around her personal discomfort. Some things are uncomfortable to say, and uncomfortable to hear, and that doesn't make them not worth saying/hearing, or strip away their very real value.

Simply, someone who did not grow up with the expectations of male socialization from their peers, family, and society, would not have had any of the struggles she is describing due to the fact that that person is actually a woman. If the world around her were not trying to socialize her as a man -which is what "male socialization" is- she would not have struggled in expressing herself as a woman in the way that she very much did. The concept of socialization is not against her or her experiences, it is a valuable tool for explaining why those things happened to her and why she felt the way she did.

It's baffling the way that people's personal discomfort will prevent them from using tools and concepts that are directly beneficial to them because those tools and concepts use one word that feels hurtful to apply to oneself.

I don't feel good calling myself socialized as my agab either! I don't like associating myself with my agab ever! It's deeply uncomfortable! But it is undeniable and a foundational aspect of my oppression that the world sees and saw me that way and formed expectations and rules for me based on that. It is imperative to acknowledge that greater society sees me as my agab, not my gender, and that is why they mistreat me, because that is the reality of the situation. I am still my gender, I am still me outside of those expectations and mistreatments, I am still valid. Those things still happened anyway.

You haven’t even fully answered the ask yet but man, having you say I put anything really well in it is such an ego boost fr

It's a great fucking ask, anon. I don't really have anything to add, it's a work of art, except that it fit better prior to my being fully convinced she was intentionally playing dumb. Ah, well, it's still a crucial lesson for others.

[tonydaddingham]

i did not break my own heart last night thinking about the missing 1941 scene and have it sat in my brain all of today spinning around like a fucking microwave in order to not make you lot suffer with me. and i somehow feel i may be right about this so buckle up and lets break it down.

so yes, following on from this post, i think that there is going to be a third 1941 scene. twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. it's been literally set up like that by even bringing back 1941 into s2 in the first place. but we're missing a crucial detail because it does not - at all, really - explain how they went from evading danger from hell and having a cosy candlelit bottle of red to celebrate, to the bastard 1967 scene. we all know this, this is nothing new.

the symbolism of nightingales is probably going to cast a shadow on this. these two excellent analyses look at the meaning of nightingales in the context of R&J, and the relation that the song has to this point in time, respectively. in summary; it's a song that should be around in 1941 courtesy of vera lynn and others, and the nightingale itself carries the meaning of love being hidden and forbidden by way of it singing under the cover of darkness, before being replaced with reality and soberness - represented by the lark. the Dinner of '41 scene is set in the bookshop at night; this would parallel - that they are safe and concealed, and truths can be shared, but the writing is on the wall that stepping outside would be to shatter the illusion, so to speak. it might be that the song itself gets miracled up onto the record player, or a wireless lying about - whatever. note: i don't think they'll dance though, not given crowley in ep5, "you don't dance"... but then again, if there ISNT a kiss in s3-1941, an aborted dance seems like the next best option... the cowardly one, but i'll take it

this would also track with aziraphale having his epiphany after the church in s1-1941; specifically, in my eyes, that he doesn't necessarily just realise he loves crowley, but that crowley by way of saving his books loves him too. this is only supported by the whole of the s2-1941 scene of trusting in each other as the only way to pull off the trick, the subterfuge. this is then, again, also important in the context of what i think happens in s3-1941.

i do think aziraphale is going to bring the books up again, and what crowley did, because it needs to be addressed. the Nazis/furfur confrontation has scared him, regardless of whether he saved them both, more than he realised. its put things into startling perspective. i think he's going to bring up the books, and actually question crowley a little more as to why he did it. the repeated use of, and subsequent weird reaction crowley has to, the use of the term "friend" in s2-1941 would indicate that this is going to be a focal point in s3-1941. are they just friends? is crowley disappointed that aziraphale is still referring to him as that, after what he did? 'saving' aziraphale in the church, and then saving his books? or is aziraphale just saying 'friends' so hesitantly in both instances because he's not completely sure where crowley stands?

we as the audience know the answer to this, but they obviously do not. if one of the crucial themes of s3 is going to be resolving miscommunication, it makes sense for this scene to be the first, and last, time they communicate properly... at least, until they sort out the issues that culminated in the Final Fifteen.

so let's say they start getting into a very roundabout way of discussing what they mean to each other. there will need to be the sobering, ice-water-over-the-head realisation however, as s2-1941 demonstrated, that they cannot belong to each other, because they manifestly belong to heaven and hell respectively. crowley is still being spied on, and it firmly places aziraphale in their line of sight too. it's going to bring up the holy water discussion; why crowley asked for it - to protect himself, whether by taking out demons or taking out himself, as long as it means he - and most importantly, aziraphale - does not get hurt.

they actively confess that they want to be together, in a way that is more than they are now. aziraphale wants to, but says that they can't, because it's too dangerous. crowley suggests that no one ever has to know, they can hide it (there, in the bookshop, whilst the nightingale is singing), and even if they are found out, they can run. "hell won't just be angry; they'll destroy you..." // "no one ever has to know".

aziraphale doesn't want to have to hide it, doesn't want a halfway measure- is still thinking in black and white. crowley however thinks that something is better than nothing - thinking in the grey. but ultimately, as long as they are still shackled, they cannot do what they want, and it puts the other in danger. "surely the great thing about being a demon is that you can do whatever you want" // "you sound jealous, angel...". instead, aziraphale promises that the day that they are no longer tied to heaven or hell, they can be together; crowley scoffs, thinking that that will never happen, so they will never happen, "you're so clever! how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?!"

the reason they can't right now is because they could be caught. they would have to skulk around, be ashamed, feel guilty - and aziraphale is tired of feeling like that. because only having crowley in secret would hurt more. not being able hold his hand, or dance with him, or kiss him, unless it was in the bookshop. if hell were to find out, crowley would be killed, true, but if heaven were to find out, aziraphale could be cast out. and if crowley survived hell long enough to see aziraphale fall - he'd never forgive himself, and in a way, i don't think he'd ever forgive aziraphale either.

it's tearing them to pieces, but they have to stop whatever is happening between them in its tracks. it's acknowledged, but it's not named. this gives them plausible deniability; if they called it 'love', it would be undeniable. so, aziraphale asks for crowley to go; asks him to leave before they do something they can't come back from. crowley doesn't listen - crowds him, gets in close, and aziraphale is powerless to stop it. doesn't want to stop it. he's selfish by nature, a selfless kind of selfishness, but he wants this with all his being. and then - "this is too fast, crowley, please don't..." // "im sorry, angel. please... please, forgive me". aziraphale never gets to answer, to grant him that, because boom - the actual first kiss.

so. now that i've had to make you read that, i'm going in for the kill. let's look at everything that follows - and look at how the above might recontextualise it.

1967: the offer of the picnic, the Ritz? ie. the literal lyrics of berkeley square? aziraphale has caved in the interest of giving crowley a weapon to use if all else fails, to protect him, but that's as far as he's willing to progress. everything else is still too painful; he's on the brink of tears, promising that one day they'll be able to do what they want, to be open about how they feel, but not yet. they can't. crowley tries to push, "ill give you a lift, anywhere you want to go..." (him offering again to run away? a second chance to leg it?), and aziraphale reminding him that they can't, he can't... don't make him go too fast again, it's not fair. it also sets up perfectly that aziraphale and crowley don't speak for the next 40 or so years (as far as we're aware) until armageddon is threatened.

bandstand: mostly this is still centred around the apocalypse contextually, but i think with the above hypothetical scene in mind (the offer to hide, to run away, to be together), aziraphale is sent back to remembering their mutual confession that they've nonverbally agreed not to bring up, because it's not safe, and it's too painful. they've skirted around it, and returned instead to a tentative kind of friendship at the beginning of s1, but they're still not safe to address why seeing each other again, being so close to each other and not being able to touch is so painful. anyway - aziraphale refuses their side, but the above scene would re-view this as 'our side can't exist yet, you know this! you know why it can't!', and crowley leaves, again after pushing a bit more than aziraphale can stand.

alpha centauri: basically a facsimile of the above; same steps, same dance. but this time, crowley harks back to aziraphale's foolish (?) hope that they will be together, without having to run away, when the day comes that they don't have to answer to heaven or hell. and aziraphale smacks him right back, echoing crowley asking for aziraphale's forgiveness in kissing him, "i forgive you." crowley knows exactly what aziraphale is getting at, there - he's answering crowley's whispered plea to forgive him for pushing, for trying to force him, for acting in desperation. but he's also not answering that - he's skirting around that very thing, forgiving him like a knife would, slicing back at crowley for not only insulting aziraphale on something that is likely a genuine insecurity of his, but also putting him back in his place, for their safeties, because them being together just cannot happen. not yet.

and "please forgive me" in 1941 might seem out of character, but idk if it is; crowley knows that doing what he's about to do will hurt aziraphale, aziraphale has (hypothetically) told him as much, but he needs to do it - and seeks not benevolence or forgiveness as crowley-the-demon, but actually seems aziraphale's forgiveness, as crowley-the-person. the echo would certainly match the tone given here, in multiple ways:

the ritz: i mean, what is there to say? yes, their song is literally playing on the piano, and heralds the shift in their being out from heaven and hell, the day has finally come where they can - again, going by this entirely hypothetical scene that ive concocted - actually be together as they want to. and the nightingale literally singing outside, but as @shoemakerobstetrician beautifully pointed out, god remarks that it's covered up by traffic. so actually, if we again refer back to R&J interpretation of the nightingale, the love is still hidden, still somewhat under wraps, but can only just about be heard over the noise of the streets outside. the prohibition of them being together, of loving each other, is dwindling. and one day, it'll stop singing altogether. that day is coming, it will come, and then they can do what they please. so whilst the ritz scene may well be a mark of them starting the next chapter, it's slow to take hold, there's still hesitancy - which absolutely makes sense when we see that they are still very tentative with each other come the beginning of s2.

s2 general: aziraphale realises their freedom first; he gets excited by the dance, and being able to show his love to crowley, completely and without barriers, in the form of the ball - what he has read to be the best way to do so. he touches crowley more. he shares his bookshop with him, gifts it to crowley as being his as well as aziraphale's, this safe space that is so wholly theirs that crowley has the power to grant entry. the same with the bentley - aziraphale sees it as theirs, and crowley silently agrees, granting aziraphale the same power. crowley is comfortable in the bookshop to remove his glasses, has a place for them. the bookshop becomes tidier, more minimalist, to make crowley more comfortable in it (it is more cluttered in s1, im certain of it). it might just be the grading between s1 and s2, and lack of clutter, but the yellow is more prominent - his literal favourite colour. everything just screams that aziraphale is ready to make good on his promise from s3-1941.

crowley... for once, is the one not quite catching up. not realising the little dates here and there are literally poses them as a couple (although yes, the coffee shop one is to prep crowley for the goob jumpscare), that aziraphale has granted him the power to grant entry. aziraphale literally asking, practically begging, crowley to help him hide goob. the mf colour of the walls. the colour of the bentley. it's not until nina outright asks him if they are together that he realises how careless they've been - but wait, is it careless if they have nothing to be careful of? well, arguably crowley does, hell are still hanging around him like a bad smell... but this is what he wanted! this is what he was pushing aziraphale for! so, does he risk it? he's not sure, but he's certainly realising that aziraphale is ready, if nothing else. and by the time the ladies stage their little intervention, crowley finally realises that the confession he started in 1941 now can be fully aired, can come out into the open.

the Feral Domestic: *fingers at temples* i know i have been fairly vocal about my interpretation of this scene, and frankly - until we get this hypothetical s3-1941 scene, i stand by it - but let's say this speculation about the scene is true, and re-examine the key points in the Final Fifteen that would completely turn on their heads in terms of meaning:

literally, harking back full circle to what aziraphale promised in 1967 as what they would do when they could fully acknowledge their love, and what they did as soon as - on paper - they were free at the end of s1. this is however before he's spoken to by nina and maggie, so maybe this is what crowley was planning in terms of confessing fully to aziraphale, but after their meddling he realised that yes, they need to actually talk about it again. he doesn't understand why they're telling him what they are - because he's existed so long in gestures and gifts and not talking, literally dismissed it now as a viable option, that it doesn't even occur to him to try talking again.

which is why he does something brave, and tries to tell aziraphale instead (say it out loud, make it undeniable, put a name to it, "i love you", something that i think was crowley's actual intention before aziraphale interrupts him) when he comes back to the shop... he's so nervous, because it's vulnerable, and because the last time he did, they ended up hiding for 50-ish years.

next up:

now, im reluctant to think that aziraphale lied in the Feral Domestic, because i do think the key thing at work is his paramount need to do the Right Thing (ie. make a difference in heaven). whilst metatron obviously manipulates him, im not entirely convinced that aziraphale wholly sees through it. i don't think he knew that metatron was up to something, i think the shaking off of this naivety is going to be part of his s3 character development. but this sentence - again, especially in context of the hypothetical s3-1941 scene - must on some level frighten him. especially if you take this meta into account, aziraphale must realise at least that they were never safe, even when they were denying what they were and how they felt, it didn't make a bit of difference. now, metatron could have just been talking about the arrangement, not referring to any romantic elements of any kind, but the threat of it? no wonder he pushes for crowley to join him in heaven; he could keep crowley safe there. they could be together, and heaven - in his eyes - would be able to say a word against it.

then:

the fear sets in; crowley was too late in telling him, acknowledging that they could be together, realising what aziraphale was saying to him without words, and now heaven has come for him. plonked them right back where they were in s2-1941, but perversely mirrored; instead of hell coming for crowley with violence, heaven came for aziraphale with kindness. crowley doesn't have a magic trick he can just do on the fly, perform it perfectly when the need for it is greatest, and has to cling to the hope that aziraphale still sees them as the barrier to them, the reason they can't be together. and in true miscommunication fashion, i think aziraphale does see it, but what metatron said lingers, and in addition to being inside the institution, changing it from the inside out, in order to make a difference... he knows that whilst it's exactly the opposite of what they wanted, he needs to make them safe. better to be inside the tent pissing out, than outside the tent pissing in.

but aziraphale doesn't tell crowley what metatron said, because instead he either deliberately tries to deny the implications of it (cognitive dissonance king behaviour), or he doesn't want to panic crowley and is trying to convey to crowley that he can't speak his concerns, not when the metatron could still be watching, and instead just needs crowley to trust him, take his hand, and join him in heaven where they can be safe. doesn't tell crowley that heaven hasn't captured him in shackles again, but he's willingly held out his wrists because it's the safest thing for him, and them, to do.

so it's one thing to look at what crowley's saying, but aziraphale's reaction? before, i just found it to be out of confusion, him not really understanding what crowley was saying, but tbh i never paid much attention to it (david stole this bit of the scene - not to put down my beloved michael here, but he did). and i know others have remarked here that aziraphale is flitting his eyes to the window and looks scared and stressed, but i don't completely think that its because he's scared that metatron is watching (although, now, i will accept with the rug thing and hypothetical s3-1941 in context it is definitely playing a part), but also because he's just starting to recognise that this is a repeat of the s3-1941 scene, "this sounds familiar, we've been here before... oh, we've definitely been here before... oh shit. i still can't do this, not unless he comes with me. we still can't be together, not in the way crowley wants. the way he's trying again, now, to ask for."

but the issue is: crowley wants to run away together. again. and i totally get why, but once again, going back to 1941: it's exactly the solution that will not work. they cannot run from this. heaven, and hell, will find them. they will come for them. it wasn't an option in 1941, it wasn't an option in 2019, and it isn't an option in 2023. aziraphale begins shaking his head - crowley is confessing, but a) aziraphale doesn't run from things, it isnt in his character, and b) it's just putting them back where they started - something that they have to hide. it defeats the purpose.

and this? yeah, im sure on neither side it was meant the way im about to interpret it, more of an unspoken thing, idk... but if the bookshop is indeed their place of safety, and is where they (as far as crowley sees it) can speak and keep their love, it makes sense that crowley is telling aziraphale he needs to stay. the bookshop can be interpreted so many ways - it represents their relationship, or that crowley means him, himself - but what if we looked at it like crowley is trying now to covet it, because it's protecting them? what if he's saying, "well, if you won't run away with me, we can't be free to have our relationship as we wanted it, not unless we stay here... heaven has come for you, has come for us, and whilst they're here we can't move. so what other option is left remain in this bookshop? to never leave it, and what we have inside it, because there's no other option in which we can be together if you won't run with me."

and what if aziraphale is saying, "no, i have an option, and that's to be together in heaven! they won't be able to do anything, not when im in the position the metatron has offered me, that can be our new bookshop... nothing lasts forever - this bookshop won't last forever, it's compromised, and we can't continue to secret away what we feel inside it, it's time to move forward."

welcome to the line that breaks my heart the most in this whole goddamn scene - and tbh i think is fairly self-explanatory in the hypothetical s3-1941 context. that aziraphale is trying, once again, to tell crowley that he is offering himself, letting them be an 'us', as crowley says shortly after - that before he couldnt do it, and these arent the best of circumstances, but they can finally do it and not have to hide in the bookshop. but crowley reminds him, "hey, i was in your shoes, remember. i wanted us to be together then, and you told me you couldn't, didn't want a halfway measure - well, now i don't either. and this will be a halfway measure, because i don't think us being together in heaven is going to go the way you hope it will. i understand a whole lot better than you do." in any case, it would explain why aziraphale choses this moment to look so devastated. this is what he promised crowley, but now crowley - to his mind, in the things left Unsaid - doesn't want it... him.

and then... back to the nightingales. they're not singing at all, not even under the rumble of traffic, like they were at the Ritz. they're completely absent - day has broken, the things unspoken have now been said, and there's no denying them anymore. from crowley's point of view, there was nothing to stop them this time, but if aziraphale won't run with him, then they have to go separate ways, because there is no other way. aziraphale knows there's the possibility that the only place they could actually be safe is heaven itself, that the bookshop was never as safe as they hoped it had been, but that crowley might actually come to see that. but the fact that crowley is resigned to just... returning to 'reality', to a world that's still turning where they aren't together? despite everything they've just said? "we could've been... us." well, that hurts.

and then... the kiss. now. im still of the mind that the kiss was an Issue. i definitely think it was meant out of love and desperation, and out of possibly being a goodbye. this would echo the hypothetical s3-1941 kiss... but it was hurtful. it was abrupt, and harsh, and not at all romantic (imo). it was possessive, and almost cruel. i do think still it was a last ditch attempt, a temptation, to get aziraphale to change his mind, before crowley leaves the shop and returns to the 'real world'. but it hurts aziraphale in many different ways - but with 1941 put in there, too? crowley is just testing his resolve, trying to push him, come around to giving in. crowley asked him to forgive him the last time he kissed aziraphale, and this time - this time, aziraphale is giving him what he asked for.

[severalowls]

Hi I played myhouse.wad here is my thoughts on a narrative thing people seem intent on brushing off in favour of tired tropes.

Spoilers for myhouse.wad do not read this if you havent played it go and play it blind thx

So Thomas and Steven are heavily heavily implied to be husbands. The use of Intensely, Notably impersonal language in the journals is a whole other point to analyse irt its authorship but I digress, my (first) point is: Thomas is also Probably trans.

So in the airport you go into the womens bathroom and theres a pill bottle on the way in that says "needs a refill..." and then you do a little loop around the mirror and theres blood in the mirror then blood all over the place and blooddemons spawn in all around you... then you leave and there's a full pill bottle that says something like "such a relief" and when you come out the bathroom signs have switched and the bathroom you came out of is now the mens room.

Now the Le Reddit/gamer dood prevailing interpretation is apparently that this is... a coincidence? That the meticulous insane modder(s) who created this entire mindbending feat of technology Simply Forgot and its a total coincidence. Fuck off.

Now the prevailing theory also seems to be that the airport bloodbath is actually Thomas's father, evidenced by the same empty pill bottle being in the hospital room with the dead man. Nah, that's because they're both Thomas's fuckin pills and that's Thomas.

Steven (the PoV character as it were) is in the same hospital because this is a representation of the critical inciting event of the entire meta narrative: both of them having died, together, at home (probably in a house fire).

Everything we see in the mod represents scenes and events in their lives, and this is the point where Steven departs from the mortal coil and goes to join his husband Thomas, who is flatlining but nonetheless sat bolt upright, locking eyes with Steven who, in the context of the wider story is putting his affairs in order through the medium of Doom. CRUCIALLY this one hospital scene, where the video game gameplay rules of Doom (you die, you reload a save) are defied and we pass into a (god damn it) liminal space between the abstraction of the game and Death, is the only point where they are reunited.

Which then suggests to me that all the "Liminal Space" stuff and Backrooms references aren't just Fun References, but the Thematic Core of the piece, the passing between worlds. Hell, even the narrative being split between docs and the mod. It being a mod for a game at all.

Anyway I'll save this going on 10000 words because I could probably write interpretation for hours but... Myhouse.wad good.

Edit the following morning: There are hints to an "Anna" which the average Gamer assumes is some sadface ex-wife, but the main points where this is referenced are the airport scene and "S+A" in the bonfire/beach endings. Steven and Thomas are described as having reconnected with high school crushes/'friends'. The main time in your life where you're likely to carve your crush in a tree is when you're a teenager.

Steven had a crush on "Anna", reconnected decades later once he'd transitioned, the scenes of the game represent primarily parts of their life together, and in the final moments of the game (bonfire/beach endings) he's reflecting on when they met as kids.

Airport scene, besides the symbolism of journeys and beginnings, could also reference a miscarriage Thomas had at some point, possibly pre-transition since its where "Anna" comes up? (Stillborn baby is referenced a couple of times in the journal + baby bottle item ingame)

Anyway, myhouse.wad good.

[batsplat]

more thoughts? PLEASE

okay I'm gonna assume this is about my tags on the sete post and well when I was editing I cut out a lot from a bunch of different sections so there's not necessarily... uh. this isn't going to be a coherent addition. but I have a few more thoughts I might as well rattle through

1. reinvention

idk I just enjoy what he's doing with his style changes during that time... like in 2002, 2003 and 2004 you've got a different vibe going on each year. the whole point of that brno hair colour thing was that it was almost a step back into the past, of re-embracing the fun and the whimsy and escaping the constraints and pressures of the present. very much embracing a more youthful vibe when you compare it to 2002, getting back in touch with his inner teenager, all while he's plotting his crazy move to yamaha. and then 2004 obviously he inevitably changes up his colour scheme, but he also lets his hair grow out and it ends up nicely emphasising that this is a New Era for him. not really an original point but there's just something fun and playful to how he uses his cute lil visual storytelling elements, from the hairstyles to the celebrations... he makes it fun to analyse him, y'know? always thinking about The Narrative

2. the symbolism of it all

this bit was too vibes-based to make it into the post but it's basically linked to these bits in the conclusion:

and following on from the reinvention thing, I do think there's something narratively rich to how valentino had to change his approach as a result of the switch to yamaha. you have this... I wouldn't call it a regression necessarily but maybe a recapturing of this playfulness in the middle of 2003 with the whole brno thing, but then there's something a little tougher and hardened about him in his yamaha days that kind of comes from necessity because he just didn't have that margin for error anymore. from the mat oxley reference book:

Some racers think motorcycle racing is a high-speed ballet, others think it's a petrolhead's wrestling match. Valentino always had the killer instinct, but it's significant that he only became known as a warrior rider after he left Honda. Without the technical advantage of the RC211V, he needed to find another way to beat rivals. He found that way at the 2005 Spanish GP, where he battered into Sete Gibernau at the final corner to win the race. He used similarly aggressive tactics to beat Casey Stoner at Laguna Seca in 2008 and Jorge Lorenzo at Motegi in 2010, and to deal with Marc Marquez during 2015. It has been said that Vale invented this kind of racing, although a deeper look into the sport's history reveals that this isn't true. And yet there's no doubt that he loved the thrill of the chase and the thrill of the kill.

and yeah, crucially, he did always have it in him. he was a proper menace in his rookie 125cc season, to the surprise of absolutely no one. but it's a very valentino thing, isn't it... you've got this clown prince persona, you have this exuberance and joie de vivre and all of it, and it's not like any of that is a lie. it's also not like his friendliness to other people is a lie either: the anecdotes about this are pretty consistent in telling you about how he does take genuine interest in his fellow human beings, which is hardly something you can take for granted with the kind of socially isolated egomaniacs competitive sports tends to produce. (though he does also benefit in that regard from coming up through an era in which the sport was still a little less professionalised and he was afforded somewhat more time to develop into a generally more well-rounded character, not a bad thing lbr.) but then, back against the wall, the fangs come out. and in a way that's what the entire 2004 season was about for him - this period where he was actually facing real challenges, a period of transition and transformation where the winning was a little less easy and he changed as a competitor as a result of that

and there's just something... idk, fitting, about how it was sete specifically who ended up being the victim of this, the guy who had always been seen as a little too carefree and nice and soft to cut it at the sharp end of the sport. who valentino had befriended: he'd been happy to blur that line between competitor and friend back then, though obviously that friendship started before sete became a serious threat. if you really want to go off the deep end with this, you could say valentino ended up exorcising the softness within himself by crushing sete. he wasn't going to allow any weakness in his own competitive make up, not when it could actually cost him. and in a way he really did have to understand sete really well, to know how to get to him in the way he did, to know how to play all those little moments in front of the cameras... those moments where he's cold to sete and knows it will unsettle sete, where he extends his hand and knows sete will accept, all of it. targeted cruelty, based on a thorough understanding of sete's character. again, this is a bit of a reach but you could say the two feuds where he went the furthest with his cruelty were against the two blokes who were the most similar to valentino. and, well, sometimes you do have to understand someone to truly know how best to hurt them

the whole episode also ended up signalling something to his competitors, almost like a warning. it's not like his relationship with everyone else in the paddock changed from one day to the next and he still had good friendships with other guys after that - even those he was actually competing against, like nicky hayden or loris capirossi. but inevitably, it will have also shifted perceptions of valentino. after the feud with biaggi you could say he was really young and also a lot of people had problems with biaggi. but gibernau? if you need concrete evidence people took notice of valentino's behaviour, take casey in 2007 saying to valentino that he didn't want their relationship deteriorate the same way it had with biaggi/gibernau. one feud can happen to everyone, two starts looking a little suspicious - three was where it became a pattern

3. rivalries

y'know, I've seen that casey quote about valentino and gibernau and biaggi thrown around a fair few places over the years, but the thing I've always been kind of curious about is what valentino thought about casey telling him that. if this is a pattern of behaviour, then what's happening there is valentino being confronted with that pattern, right? I think an underlying question you have to address at some point with valentino and his rivalries is how aware he is of what he's doing. like, is he consciously engineering feuds or is he doing it subconsciously? and I think it can be a bit misleading if the first valentino feud you come across is the marc one, because it'll prime you to read all the other ones in certain ways that might not be entirely accurate. I've not quite figured out how to express this yet so bear with me here - but marc is the one who valentino felt the most hurt by and continues to feel the most hurt by and as a result it's the most emotionally charged feud from his perspective. but what that also means is it's the feud where he's the least consciously aware of how he himself has contributed to this whole nightmare situation they've got going on. because from his perspective he did treat marc differently from... well, basically from any post-sete major or even minor rival. he offered marc all that kindness and generosity and good will and graciousness in defeat as well as victory and had it thrown in his face

which makes it easy to assume this is all just... well, not just twenty years of feuding but also twenty years of self-delusion. and it's not quite like that - he has more self-awareness than that I think. when you read how he talks about biaggi in his autobiography (who he is kind enough not to completely erase from his narrative), even in 2005 he seems to have a pretty good handle on what that feud really was. okay, maybe he does somewhat shirk responsibility and somewhat overemphasises the role of the media as opposed to his own malice, but there's an awareness of how stupid and silly and mean-spirited the whole thing was. it was just a kind of nasty rivalry with a guy valentino didn't like much - but who, for what it's worth, wasn't exactly going out of his way to be nice to valentino either. sure, it ended up being torture for biaggi, and sure valentino did maybe relish inflicting said torture a little more than is morally appropriate. but y'know, in some ways, it's quite straightforward, this honest mutual dislike. uncomplicated, even

and this I did not include in the actual sete post because it's just complete and utter speculation, but I wonder to what extent the sete experience did end up changing valentino's approach to his competitors. whether he deliberately embraced that side of himself a little more and was a little more considered and calculating in how he treated his rivals, more in touch with his inner bastard, if you will. even if he just had in the back of his mind that something like with sete could happen again, even if he was just a bit more careful about keeping certain blokes at arm's length. because, remember, from his perspective this was also the first time a relationship with a rival deteriorated this drastically - now you can say 'yeah but it was his fault', but that doesn't change how it was a new experience for valentino too! he was also learning stuff about himself in the process, going through an important journey of self-exploration, etc etc. love crushing my enemies on the path to self-actualisation

and valentino did learn a lot from that whole experience on-track, he did learn useful skills in terms of managing rivalries - so maybe he also looked at what worked on sete in the psychological warfare department and, y'know, consciously made a note of it. when casey delivered that little spiel to valentino about not wanting their relationship to deteriorate, I assume valentino responded perfectly pleasantly in the moment... but I do also think he was extremely ready to deliberately sour their dynamic if he had to. zero self-delusion required

he's quite calculating with casey and jorge I feel... especially with casey, he really didn't waste his time feeling emotionally slighted or coming up with reasons why casey was the devil and needed to be destroyed. he wanted to destroy casey because he wanted to win, and was comfortable enough in his own skin to use the full bag of tools and tricks to do so, no complex internal narratives to justify the whole thing needed. for him, that was all just part of the game. it wasn't for casey, which is a topic for an entirely different post, but... well, casey and jorge in particular are the ones who have spoken about this valentino desire to create enemies, to give himself someone to hate etc. and in a way, ironically I would say they're the two for who that was the least true. yeah, they gave him a helpful target and he was perfectly happy to whip up drama where needed. but I don't really think he was going to any particular lengths to invent reasons to hate them (even his 2010 dramatics were really just faffing about). he found them both kinda annoying and he wanted to beat them. that's it

4. these photos of valentino and sete at sepang 2004

idk I just like photos that have nebulously bad vibes if you know the context. it would have been quite funny if they'd consistently used the same shade of yellow in sepang press conferences over the years

5. marc

all of the stuff above does to me really emphasise how... god. this is the thing about valentino and marc, right, as a tragic narrative - it feels inevitable in many ways that this had to somehow go wrong, but then at the same time the exact way in which it did end up going wrong was reliant on so many things playing out the exact way in which they did, that it feels like if you could have just slightly changed things... like, let's say for a moment my baseless speculation about valentino is correct and he did become a little more careful and deliberate in how he approached his relationships with his competitors after the sete experience. there's so much that had to come together for him to lower his guard around marc to the extent that he did. again, injuries, ducati, how he wasn't really competitive in 2013, how dominant marc was especially in the first half of 2014... all these things that came together to lull them both into this false sense of security, spurred on by genuine interpersonal chemistry - all of which allowed them to even become friends in the first place

think about what the early marc and valentino relationship looks like if you're casey (who, bless him, certainly wasn't paying close enough attention to motogp to be aware of 'press conference vibes') or jorge (who, bless him, was unfortunately unable to avoid said press conference vibes). isn't there a little part of you that goes 'what the fuck is all this then' when you see valentino act like marc is god's gift to motorcycle racing after spending years enacting elaborate hazing rituals any time particularly promising talent had come through? casey's little 'yeah he was fucking with me in practise in 2006' line, jorge... okay in valentino's defence, it's worth pointing out that their 2008 relationship was more cordial than literally anyone had expected, and things only really soured in 2010. but still, their camps did already start up a healthy habit of sniping at each other in the press in 2009 and they did have the whole cold war cosplay situation going on, so. jorge certainly wasn't being given the kid gloves treatment

and sure, 2014 was a pretty drama free year for everyone because the general consensus was 'what would be the point', and I suppose if you're jorge you might also just assume the old man's washed and has gone soft in his advanced age. but still! I think I'd be a tad peeved myself, especially given valentino immediately fell into a lovely little habit of taking marc's side in controversies from the very start of marc's rookie season. but that's kind of the point - valentino's entire approach to marc required that past history of feuding for him to fall back on, for him to imitate/echo when the moment arrived (as I talked about here)... but it also required valentino to have gotten enough distance from all of his past misadventures for him to not have that sort of mindset from the outset when it came to marc

which, another thing I feel like maybe can get obscured a little if you're looking back on past rivalries with the marc-lens - this concept of valentino 'switching up' towards his opponents. because I do actually think there is something categorically different between the sete + marc rivalries when compared to any of his other ones - and it's how deliberate that switch-up is from valentino's perspective, vs to what extent it's driven by 'genuine' emotion. I just think there were rivalries (for a given value of the word if we're including melandri here) between sete's era and marc's era where valentino decided he was going to create a little distance there - but it was all part of the game. he didn't hate those guys. he just wanted to win, and understood as much about himself

but he does hate marc, because that rivalry was never supposed to be like the other ones. which, in the end, is what made it far far worse

6. che spettacolo

'he was so happy after sealing his first yamaha title :)' I go, knowing he had just pulled off a pretty fucking nasty spite win against a bloke he'd recently put a curse on. he really did risk quite a lot in the penultimate round of the season, just because he could not bear to see sete win that race. revealing, isn't it? obviously he'd always try to win the race, but... at times he just couldn't help himself in how far he went

anyway, it's my favourite of his title-winning shirts. a deliberate departure from tradition - he told his team he didn't want logos or any other decoration or even any mention that he was world champion again. the reasoning he gave was that nobody would expect it from him, which... well, yeah, it's what that whole year was about, wasn't it? about doing the unexpected, about proving everyone wrong - and, in the end, about putting on a show. like all the best valentino celebrations, it gets the message across and explains to you quite clearly what he thinks the story of his victory was. memorable in its simplicity but tells you everything you need to know

one of his career highlights <3 it's in character that the whole thing was just a little bit evil

7. film

I cannot for the life of me remember when this was except it was post-2015, but one time in a presser valentino was asked which rivalry of his he'd make into a movie and his answer was biaggi. obviously it's hard to argue with the dramatic appeal of that particular story and it's certainly got a lot of very memorable moments, but my hot take is that the sete rivalry has got it beat by virtue of having a far clearer narrative arc. it's a slightly unusual, slightly odd story for a sports rivalry... like I said in the sete post, people aren't typically all that compelled by sports rivalries where you know from the outset which one of them is better. what's the point then, right? very much the indie flavour rivalry, a little more niche and philosophical and inscrutable and, y'know, darker. this is a feud that centres around a curse, after all. this one's for the girls who get it etc etc

valentino's erasure of sete is interesting for a lot of reasons, but it's a shame because it really is such a good narrative arc that adds so much to the transition to yamaha. the transformation valentino himself went through as a competitor, how he responded to real threats emerging, revealing your true nature in extremis and all of that... I'm not entirely convinced by how sete says valentino didn't need to do what he did against sete - he said it specifically about jerez, which I suppose is debatable, but I imagine he meant it more broadly too. there was a moment valentino could have lost that 2004 championship. and he'd already decided he would do anything to stop that from happening, which things like that assen last lap nicely symbolised. the thing about judging valentino for the foibles and the spite and the dishonesty and the competitive paranoia and all of it - well, at the end of the day they are key aspects of his make up as a competitor for a reason. you can judge him as a person... but as an athlete, more often than not they worked out in his favour. that's what's so interesting about sepang 2015 in a way - it's the only time the whole thing well and truly backfired

(I know casey has drawn the comparison between himself and marc before and argued valentino's biggest mistake was in making enemies but... well. was it? it wasn't against casey - valentino did not lose anything by making an enemy out of casey and he very well may have gained a lot, depending on what your read of the 2008 season is. very much a topic for another post... but this is the thing right, I think it's perfectly reasonable to object to valentino's behaviour on moral grounds, less reasonable to ignore why it was such a big part of who he was as a competitor and how it helped him succeed. I completely understand why casey wants to draw that comparison, but - perhaps unfortunately - it's a little too nice to be true that valentino's malice cost him as much as casey suggests it did)

valentino learns a lot from the sete rivalry in terms of his storytelling and self-mythologisation, not least in how he plays up the theatre of the sepang presser. one aspect that really stands out to me is the pointed cruelty of his celebrations after sepang. from the sete post:

revisiting his whole 'character arc' from the 2003-05 period here, you've got this reversion in 2003, right, this throwback to the antics of his teenage years, and then you've got him getting meaner in 2004... and these things are married here. the whimsy and fun inherent to his celebrations is being wielded in the name of humiliating his competitors, of making a joke out of them. there's this thin line between joy and malice, where throughout his career he seems so endlessly capable of both - even at the same time, clearly. he's obviously already shown himself capable of mocking his opponents in the biaggi days, but, I don't know, it really does feel like there's something to how deliberately the humiliation is incorporated into the theatre of victory here. what a spectacle indeed

8. rage and panic

but then again, I really don't want to pretend like valentino is perfectly rational or calculating in what he's doing here. remember where all this started - in qatar, a race where he well and truly lost his cool and he knows as much. I included the relevant autobiography section in this post, but just to put the bit here that's bit about qatar itself:

he knows his brain fucked him over! I also think it's interesting that this reads slightly differently from his immediate post-race quotes, which I included in the sete post:

was he angry or was he relaxed or, somehow, both? was that unfortunate moment of relaxation caused by the inevitable letdown from the anger - was it unsustainable to ride like that? either way, the key bit to me is the heightened emotions involved and how usually he has it under control, usually he can use all of this in his own interest to spur himself on... except when he can't. as I pointed out in the tags of the qatar post, there are elements of that race that do remind you of another 25 year old rider who had received a penalty he felt was unfair and was working his way through the field while running hot on emotion. it's all fun and games and smiling assassins etc etc, but if you get them really angry...

and, y'know, in a way there's an element of panic to his post-qatar media rampage. okay, sure, he was clearly furious and the whole thing did end up working out in his favour, but in the moment he must have also been scared he was going to end up losing a championship he'd thought he basically had wrapped up. it's funny because if motogp were a sane and normal sport, valentino (allegedly) vowing his title rival would never win a race again on live tv should have been a moment of foolishness and hubris and should have been remembered as such. it should have been him losing it for a moment there and saying a bunch of stuff he'd need to gloss over and hope everyone moves on quickly from. it is absolutely bonkers that it all played out the way it did post-qatar and it just like... all went in his favour. it could not have gone better for him. there's a world in which 2004 is remembered as the title valentino squandered. but sometimes hubris gets rewarded, I suppose

9. margin

sane and normal sport, huh? the thing about sports is that none of it is sane and normal. if you actually go through the races one by one and look at all the instances sete could have won a race post-qatar, it does feel just incredibly improbable that sete never won a single one of those damn things. I mean, there are five races where he's literally going into the last lap(!!) with a chance of winning. (in the name of journalistic integrity I do have to point out sete's fuel ran out in the last lap of brno so he didn't really have a chance of winning, but that just brings us back to the 'does motogp exist in a parallel universe where black magic is real' question.) in three of them, sete is ahead of valentino at some point of that final lap

one of the worst things about sports is that sometimes it can trick you into thinking the final outcome is in doubt when it actually kind of isn't. the fact that these two blokes are arriving at the last lap together fools you into thinking that both of them have a decent shot of winning. but obviously it doesn't actually work like that. call it skill and the extra margin of error a decisive performance edge will provide you, call it a clutch factor, call it how 'broken' sete was - it really was just the illusion of proximity, the illusion of tight margins. maybe it really was a test of wills. in two of those races, valentino risked quite a lot to win. phillip island for obvious title arithmetic reasons, jerez because he's literally throwing his bike against sete's in his desperation to prevent sete from beating him. in some ways, it feels unfair to judge sete's mentality too harshly - firstly because this is an insane person sport and I do think he has a point when he says it's maybe not a great idea to laud crash-happy riders for their 'bravery', and secondly because he was just fundamentally the worse rider, which obviously means it was always going to be harder for him to beat valentino than vice versa. but, and this is without any judgement, sete's problem was that valentino always would have been willing to go further than him in his desire to win. to be good at the insane person sport... you do unfortunately have to be insane

10. momentum

I'm not going to be able to do this justice here so I'll only address it very briefly. but I've referred quite a few times to what valentino 'learned' from those years and the sete rivalry and how it helped him acquire tricks he'd be able to use for his other rivals in the future, and there's one aspect of this that kind of stands out to me. you know this bit, right:

this is the thing to me, he becomes so much more proficient at managing momentum. take his 2001 season, he was just kinda doing stuff... panicked a little bit when he had a bad race at the sachsenring until jb talked him off the ledge and reminded him that neither him nor the bike were all that great there. poor thing. and then 2002 and 2003 didn't really have title fights, though I guess 2003 did have a mid-season turning point of sorts when valentino just decided he'd had enough of losing races. which is a nice thing to be able to do, I suppose

but yeah, obviously I already addressed at length how valentino did his whole show at sepang to stop sete's momentum cold, and then how he fatally undermined sete's self-belief and hope and conviction in jerez a few races later - basically stopping that title bid before it even got started. which is all well and good, but... okay, how do you actually manage to make your three most famous overtakes so meaningful? obviously the cause and effect relationship is a bit muddled here - just because they're his most famous overtakes, they're not necessarily his best, and we remember them particularly strongly because they had such a strong impact on his fortunes. but still, when you think about it... sepang was only a turning point that season because of the theatre and not because of the race itself, his overtake in jerez was 100% last minute desperation... but laguna and catalunya? he literally could not have scripted those races more perfectly

both happen at a time when he really, really needs a big win. in 2008, he might have had the points on his side but he sure didn't have the momentum, with casey's three consecutive wins on a ducati that finally seemed well-settled enough to fight for the title and with a lot of strong casey tracks to come. like, he basically wasn't the title favourite any more going into that race - even at the end of laguna one of the commentators still referred to casey as "the man to beat" for the rest of the season. in 2009, the situation was similarly dire. from here (I say like I'm citing something more substantial than my own tumblr posts):

they were both races that valentino went into at a time when he was in serious trouble - but on the flip side they also presented a serious opportunity. both laguna (a race casey must have felt completely certain he would win) and catalunya (jorge's home race) were ones where he could really hurt his rivals. at some point that weekend, whether before the race for casey or before the final corner for jorge, both of them would have been 100% confident they'd win... and valentino stole those victories from right under their noses. and the thing is, right, he couldn't have planned exactly how those races went. first of all because, contrary to whatever the italian public may believe, he is not literally a god. and second of all, the specific overtakes everyone remembers are also ones that inherently had a lot of risk attached to them you'd obviously prefer to avoid. at laguna you have the excursion into the dirt where he needed skill and also quite frankly luck to not crash. catalunya was a last corner overtake - and as we've established, valentino by this point had learned his lesson about leaving it that late if he had any choice in the matter

still, it's not like it was just fate or coincidence or any of that. obviously, he did get lucky that these races unfolded in such a perfect manner for him... but athletes do have a hand in creating their own luck. for laguna, and this is so very much a topic for another post, valentino deliberately deployed tactics to fuck with casey in a way that ended up generating that overtake - without getting into it too much, he basically knew he couldn't allow casey to be ahead going into turn 10 (the corkscrew's turn 8). so if you've decided in advance that come what may, you'll stick your bike in front of your rival's bike in a certain corner... well, if you get lucky, then maybe you can create a little magic. with catalunya, he said afterwards that he'd been imagining that overtake for the whole week before the race. incidentally, according to the commentators jorge had told them that if you're ahead going into the last two corners, you've won the race (which is obviously the kind of thing you should never say, are you insane??) - and that's the key, isn't it. here too, there's a meeting of skill and luck and jorge maybe not being as diligent in protecting the inside line as he should have been (a fact that casey, always polite, full of tact, ever helpful, was willing to repeatedly point out to jorge) and it could have very much ended up with two bikes in the dirt and some awkward conversations within yamaha that evening... but still, at the end of the day, you've got to "invent something" as the commentators put it, you've got to come up with that move and decide it's possible and visualise it again and again before eventually turning it into reality. both of those wins and both of the overtakes everyone remembers were at least to some extent built on tactics and prior planning and valentino deliberately producing something special when he really needed to

the other key bit is, okay, obviously it's not that remarkable that valentino immediately clocked they were important wins, given he'd intended them to be important wins going into the respective races and he knew full well how dramatic the duels had been... but he was still very adept at leaning into the theatre of it all. the idea that valentino came up with the idea of kissing the corkscrew during the race is very funny to me, but it is pretty plausible given he will have had time to do so while coasting at the front after casey's fall. and it's just very memorable, isn't it? sure, that corkscrew overtake helped him win the race, but so did the first lap move into turn 8 or that nifty move on the outside of turn 3 on the lap casey went down. the battle still continued for another twenty odd laps after that corkscrew overtake, but valentino had the shrewd showman's acumen to immediately pinpoint that as the moment of the race, the thing everyone would remember, the defining image, and paid tribute to it in his celebrations to ensure the association would stick in everyone's minds

obviously, he also goes for all kinds of over the top celebrations in catalunya, including wildly ecstatic fist pumping on the bike and breaking out of parc fermé to soak up the adulation of jorge's home fans and all that stuff. and he's a huge fan of the fact he got his 99th career win beating the number 99, because of course he is

also obviously he does that annoying thing where he goes up to both of them while they're doing their interviews so their reactions will be recorded for posterity. so yeah, that's the thing, right... it's about knowing immediately the wins are special and meaningful and signalling with your overblown celebrations how meaningful they are to everyone else so that everyone else is extra sure to remember them and talk about them forever and ever... obviously he got lucky here, obviously it's a little crazy that both those races worked out that well from his perspective. but, y'know. got to hand it to him, I guess. something pretty neat about how both times he went 'yes I am going to change the momentum of the season today'... and he did. plus you've got to give him credit for the fact that he actually capitalised on his momentum, which isn't always easy, and basically took control of both seasons from that point onward (if in different ways and to different extents). he knew he had to take advantage of how his rivals were on the back foot after his daring victories, and he did. you could almost say, right, he knew he had to bite harder when his opponent was already bleedi- *gunshot rings out*

bonus: valencia

so the thing about this whole 'back to back wins with different manufacturers' business is that, understandably, everyone focuses on the welkom side of the equation. very spectacular, very unlikely win, really shouldn't have been possible and somehow valentino did it anyway. but, y'know, that other side of the equation is noteworthy in its own right! he really was crap at valencia. eighth place in his 1999 250cc campaign, his worst result all year when he finished the race (1 dnf that season)... his 2000 title campaign died there when he crashed... eleventh place in 2001, his worst result all year when he finished the race (1 dnf)... in 2002, he got second place there, one of only five races that season he didn't win

but he really, really wanted to win that race in valencia. now, personally, my assumption has always been it was kind of supposed to be a 'fuck you' to honda, which I still completely believe btw. but this is how he himself frames it:

I was the one who worried. Saturday night I took pictures of myself hugging and embracing the RC211V. I wanted to say goodbye to my bike because I knew that tomorrow we would race our last race together. Leaving the RC211V was what hurt most. In fact, I now believe the reason it took me so long to say yes to Yamaha was because I was so attached to that bike. As I looked at the RC211V and thought that we would soon be separated, I genuinely feared that it would take a very long time before I once again tasted victory. That's why I decided I had to win that last race of the 2003 season. It would be a great way of saying goodbye of course, but also I wanted to stock up on victories, I wanted to have the taste of triumph fresh in mind because who knew when I would win again with Yamaha?

which, okay, setting aside for a minute what a freak he is about these bloody bikes, there's two underlying reasons he expresses here for why he's so desperate to win this race. first of all, yes, he really loves that bike and wants to give it the farewell their partnership deserves. and second of all, more poignantly (for the non-bike fuckers anyway), he really did not know when he'd win again. I don't know, it's something that stuck with me... I think we can talk all we like about how big a risk it was and what a step into the unknown it was and nobody believed he could do what he did etc etc, but to me this is just the most straightforward way of capturing that uncertainty. valentino wanting to remember the taste of victory, because he knew he might be giving it up for a long time. he loves winning so, so much, he's done so much over the years to win, he's never been able to stop chasing the high... and yet he walked away from that bike

"I decided I had to win that last race" is in itself funny because obviously a lot of people can't just 'decide' to win races. which, yes, it's just a thing people say, but it does capture the essence of that type of valentino win where it feels like he's won it through sheer force of will. a lot of the times, these are his spite wins - the phillip island 2004's and jerez 2005's of this world - hey, speaking of sete duels, we should include le mans and sachsenring and brno and qatar 2005 as well. various biaggi wins, perhaps most memorably the middle finger race in suzuka 2001 and his last lap overtake in phillip island 2001, where he won his first premier class title. when he beats spaniards in dramatic battles at catalunya like 2004, 2005, 2009, 2016. his fury at his penalty at phillip island 2003 that results in that spectacular fifteen second margin over the field. his desire to fuck with jorge in motegi/sepang 2010. let's throw in his dominant win in jerez 2016 in enemy territory, the first race win he'd had of that nature since... oof, let me have a think, maybe assen 2009? (incidentally, the race that directly followed catalunya.) like, man, this is not how he was winning races post-prime, it was always one hell of a struggle - with one glaring exception

which makes it worth pointing out that the second and indeed last time he won in valencia was in 2004, when he was in the process of dismantling sete. now, given sete ended up finishing fourth, it wasn't strictly necessary to get the win to ensure the curse continued doing its thing. but, y'know, there was a point where sete was in front of valentino on-track. then sete tries to overtake biaggi, pretty firmly it has to be said, and pushes them both wide allowing valentino to sweep right on through, which I found pretty funny icl. anyway, the best way to ensure your rival doesn't win a race is to win it yourself, right? after the frustration of qatar, he reacted by winning the last three races of the season spurred on by sheer spite. no wonder he took notes and learned a little something about how to best motivate himself

bonus 2: things that aged badly

october 2003, mind you. he really got those guys good

bonus 3: dovi

I mean, come on. it is a little bit funny that both valentino and marc acquire a new rival at age 24 seemingly out of nowhere who was their main rival for three years. (I don't care what the championship standings say, marco melandri was not valentino's main rival in 2005 - sete might have been extremely cursed but those were still The Battles that year.) said rival was 6-7 years older than them, known for being a particularly smart rider and a wet weather specialist, and announced themselves as a major threat in large part through winning two dramatic last lap duels against the all time great in the first year of that rivalry. both rivalries were (well, initially in valentino's case) notable for being significantly warmer on an interpersonal level than the ATG's previous major rivalry

both had previously been hrc riders but had been fired by the team. gibernau had one premier class win before 2003, dovi had two before 2017, and all three of those wins came in the wet. ofc dovi did have a bit more pedigree - the 125cc title, stronger results in the premier class, considerably more podiums. but both dovi and gibernau weren't really supposed to be the main rival to the ATG, not even within their own team - though, obviously, the reasons why they ended up assuming that mantle couldn't have been more different. with both of them, people said they'd changed their approach to riding, mainly in terms of their mentality - and that it had helped them grow into their new role as the primary challenger

there's not really a point here... I just think it's neat. obviously it is a little funny how differently those respective relationships unfolded, but I also wouldn't say it's fair to entirely pin that on the personalities involved, as opposed to circumstantial factors. that being said

[aleksanderscult]

Part 3 of Aleksander Morozova being a jealous bitch

And now we will dive into his "Siege and Storm" salty moments. I will analyse them, make comments and flesh them out. Prepare yourself for some real dramatic shit (he's just built like that).

(Here's part 1, here's part 2, here's part 4, here's part 5 and the bonus content btw🖤)

Grab your snacks and let's go!

So what's the translation here?

"I won't kill him now. But I will at some point 'cause his time is long overdue."

Part 237721 where he uses Mal as leverage against Alina.

BEFORE YOU START SAYING: "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT'S THE DARKLING??"

Leigh herself has confirmed it:

From this small paragraph we can draw so many things out.

He took some time out of his planning and leading to take care of her. Make her eat and get better (after letting his nichevo'ya bite her). That shows me at least, that he keeps going back to her out of his own loneliness. She is the only one like him. He seeks her presence and gets tender with her by stroking her cheek. Even if he can't be sure that she can feel him or see him, he still does it.

Secondly, the moment she says Mal's name he quickly withdraws his hand like he got electrocuted. He got instantly angry and jealous that the first person she thought and called out was him.😒

Damn man calm down😭

There are four words that he uses here that are crucial. And I will highlight them.

"I want to watch your tracker die slowly with my knife in his heart."

He wants to see every detail of his death.

He wants him to die slowly and in agony.

He wants to do it himself with his own knife.

He wants to plunge it into his heart. Not just in any random spot and that's it. No. Into his heart.

This is personal vendetta at this point😭

Also, he ALWAYS picks the most gruesome ways to kill Mal (feed him to the volcra, gut him, slowly and painfully plunge a knife in his heart).

He holds a lethal grudge against him for taking Alina away from him. For keeping her hidden from him. For the love they share and makes him insanely jealous. And that last one makes him even think to throw Alina overboard too. But he can't and he won't.

Can he be any more petty?🥲

He is so possessive here. Primarily, he did it to get on Mal's nerves and actually displays such competitiveness. Like "Look what I do😏", "I touch and caress her".

But! There's no way he also didn't do it for his own pleasure.

(He's so thirsty bye-)

He sees Mal's reaction and knows that what he fears most is Alina sleeping with him. So he plays along and threatens him with that iconic line down here:

Not that he doesn't want it to happen deep down of course but ANYWAY

The fact he wants to ensure that Mal will hear it when he makes Alina scream is again so petty. He wants to make sure that he will throw it in his face when it happens.

Also the confidence😭

The sure confidence that he can make her scream while the two...*hem hem* you know.

I could post more pictures but I chose not to 'cause next we have the tether and chapel scenes. And I want these to be in one post but I hope you enjoyed this! 💛

(Also tell me if you like this meta)

[maxdibert]

I’m rereading the Harry Potter books, and the amount of hatred I feel toward Hermione is insane.

I was always a very shy student who struggled with learning because everything distracted me during class. When I asked the teacher a question or was asked something directly, it was incredibly important to me because it was the only way I could truly learn—through direct interaction. Unfortunately, I always had the "luck" of sharing classes with those types who love answering questions that weren’t directed at them, trying to stand out as “the smartest” or meddling in my business.

While the fandom adores Hermione for being “so intelligent” and knowing all the answers, she’s actually a nuisance. Supposedly being “the smartest” and having this constant need to prove herself, she hinders others from learning by butting in where she doesn’t belong.

I think it’s very biased when, for example, Lupin says she’s “the brightest witch of her age” or something along those lines. Of course she stands out—she never lets anyone else answer before she opens her mouth or gets called on.

Honestly, the only reason I like Hermione is because she’s the only well-built and developed female character in the entire bloody series, since the rest are absolute rubbish, and honestly, Rowling makes them terribly one-dimensional in general (which is ironic considering she likes to pose as a feminist). But as a person, Hermione would drive me up the wall.

As a teenager, I thought some people disliked her because of that misogynistic trope where proactive and intelligent women are always looked down upon or labelled as annoying. But as the years have gone by, I’ve come to the conclusion that no, it’s because Hermione was annoying.

I wouldn’t have been able to stand having her as a classmate because I found teacher’s pets and those constantly trying to get teachers’ approval pretty revolting. Nothing disgusted me more than a brown-noser, and if they were also the type to always speak up, act like a know-it-all, and throw a fit if they got anything less than an A+, my dislike would’ve been through the roof.

I mean, I was never the type to tell someone off if they hadn’t done anything to me personally, but I remember this girl who got really upset because she always got top marks and took her grades so seriously (as if they actually mattered in the real world), but she came second in Literature because she was absolutely awful at interpreting and analysing texts. She was great at memorising but had the imagination of a rock. And she threw an actual tantrum over it, like, girl, you can’t be good at everything, relax. Or this university classmate who got mad because another girl,not her, received the highest distinction in a course. And that girl was supposed to be her friend, like ??? Honestly, people like that should be sent straight to the stake.

I never took my studies too seriously because I saw them as a means to get a degree and a job. The things that have truly interested me, I’ve studied on my own, and what’s been most fulfilling and educational for me has been travelling, working crappy jobs, and meeting loads of people. In the end, your grades don’t mean much because they guarantee nothing in life.

That said, I’d absolutely hate having a student like Hermione in my class. Imagine being a teacher trying to check whether your students are doing their homework, understanding the lesson, or simply trying to encourage them to speak up and express themselves because that’s a crucial part of their cognitive development — but you’ve always got that one kid cutting them off, correcting them, answering when nobody asked, or interrupting your interaction with other students just to show off.

I’m sorry, but if I were Snape, I wouldn’t be able to stand her either, because she’s actively sabotaging your work with the other students. It’s all me me me me, and a classroom isn’t just about you; it’s about everyone learning. Honestly, I would’ve really struggled not to tell her to shut the hell up at some point.

I also don’t think she’s brilliant. She’s tenacious, disciplined, and clever. She’s good at studying, memorising, practising, and she’s diligent — and these are very good and valid qualities. But brilliance comes from natural talent developed through practice, and she’s not naturally talented — she just works very hard.