#article: trope scope

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VI.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: The highly anticipated state fair performance. Here's what I envision Paloma singing: Gunpowder & Lead - Miranda Lambert, One Way or Another - Blondie, Poor, Poor Pitiful Me - Linda Ronstadt, Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks. [ mini playlist ]

WORD COUNT: ~8k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: The interrupted right before kissing trope is strong with this one, i think most of this is considered fluff, they're still pining after one another, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: as promised, here's the other chapter for the week! i had so much fun writing this and expanding on their dynamic omg… first of all a little commotion for miss paloma…. the icon that she is! also couldn't help myself by having javi wear that sexy ass blue shirt in this… he is just so handsome… i need him BIBLICALLY i fear! i hope you guys enjoy reading, i have so much planned for this fic and it's going to get really messy here soon (: i might even post a lil moodboard for it. anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Finally, it’s the day of her long awaited state fair performance and Paloma is absolutely overflowing with anticipation, her energy bounding through the house like a whirlwind.

The night before was a restless blur, nerves and excitement intertwining to steal away her sleep. 

She had read a variety of newspaper articles to get more information on the fair itself. She uncovered the staggering scope of its annual attendance; a revelation that both fueled her trepidation and determination.

Her heart pounded like distant drums as the reality set in: hundreds, no, thousands of eyes would be fixed upon her. The prospect thrilled her to her core, yet it also stirred a profound stage fright.

Rarely does she feel said stage fright; memory of her last instance dating back to when she was fourteen, trembling as she took the stage at The Whiskey Fox for the very first time. Since then, her journey has been a voyage of calm seas, and now, as she’s grown into her own, Paloma is enveloped in a sense of serene confidence.

It’s understandable that she’s apprehensive about transitioning from a smaller venue to a stage at a grander event. There’s a tinge of sadness in her heart knowing that her father wouldn’t be there to accompany her. He’s witnessed her artistic evolution firsthand and has always been her staunchest supporter. Her number one fan.

Unfortunately, duty calls and with Jessica Valdez still missing; he was needed here.

On the other hand, Javier’s presence was not as essential, and Romeo practically burst with joyful relief when Paloma revealed that he would be her companion all the way to Dallas.

Just as she had expected.

Earlier in the morning, before heading off to the station, the sheriff had popped into her bedroom to wish her luck. With a tender gaze, he doted on his daughter, expressing his pride in her and, in his own unique manner, even offered a subtle apology for his recent behavior. As always, she embraced his understanding with ease, and in that moment, the weight of apprehension that had been bearing down on her lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and reassurance.

She’s currently stationed in her bedroom, sitting at her vanity and meticulously rolling her thick locks into velvety rollers that she intends to keep in place throughout the entire four-hour journey to the city. Her face is bare, dressed in a tank top and shorts and she doesn’t plan on doing much to her appearance until they make it to the fairgrounds.

As a soft rumble fills the air, she casts a glance out of her bedroom window, her lips curling into a smile at the sight of Javier’s truck rolling into view.

Fuck, she reflects on the unexpected bravery it took to ask him to join her. While her primary concern was appeasing her father, she also couldn’t deny the appeal of spending time with him.

Despite her bold and flirtatious gestures, Paloma is sure that if the opportunity to actually fuck him ever arose, she would be overcome with nerves. Don’t get her wrong; she longs to indulge her selfish desires and surrender to him completely. Yet, the thought of not meeting his expectations casts a shadow of doubt over her.

Oh, for fucks sake, Paloma— when have you ever cared about living up to a man’s expectations?

She scoffs at herself, bobby pin between her teeth as she rushes down the stairs to answer Javier’s knocking.

“I am on time, right?” He quips, his voice carrying a playful tone from the other side of the screen door since the wooden door that usually blocks it is wide open.

“Sure are. I’m the one that’s runnin’ behind. Don’t worry— just gotta get my damn hair rolled up and we’ll be ready to go. You can come in.” She motions for him to enter, pausing in the hallway that stretches toward the foyer. She steals a moment to glance at her reflection in the mirror, deftly sliding the bobby pin into her hair to secure the roller in place.

As Javier crosses the threshold, the screen door emits a reluctant groan, briefly stirring the awareness that they are alone once more in the house. However, her attention remains steadfast on ensuring that her hair is perfectly secured, leaving no room for wariness to take hold.

His gaze lingers on her figure and a gentle flush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck as she becomes acutely aware of the extent of her attire’s exposure. The lack of a bra allows her breasts to sway with every subtle movement, her nipples prominent against the fabric.

“Need help gettin’ anything into the car, nena?” With a casual lean against the wall where the mirror hangs, he directs his question to her.

“Yeah, it’s all in my room.” She spins on her heel, striding towards the stairs, with him silently shadowing her steps. The realization dawns on her that he will soon enter her room, prompting her eyes to widen in alarm as she takes in the chaotic scene before her— it looks like a fucking tornado has run through the space.

She doesn’t have any time to block him from seeing it though, and she bites down on her tongue and mentally curses herself for not cleaning up as she got ready.

Considering how frantic she’s been all morning, of course she hadn’t stopped to think about tidying up.

“Sorry for the mess… it’s been a morning.” She grumbles and Javier can’t help but be amused.

Surveying the room from the doorway, he takes in the entirety of the space, his broad figure remaining at the threshold. Posters adorn the walls, each reflecting her eclectic tastes. From the timeless southern charm of Dolly Parton to the ethereal melodies of Fleetwood Mac and the vibrant rhythms of Donna Summer. Their presence doesn’t surprise him. Instead, they offer a window into her personality, providing insight into her interests and preferences.

Javier tries not to analyze her by the things she has in her bedroom, yet he finds himself irresistibly drawn in.

It’s a facet of his innate curiosity.

He notices the scattered articles of clothing, a digital piano tucked away in the corner, and her bed left invitingly tousled. He can’t help but imagine how soft her sheets must be, laced with the natural smell of her. 

Amidst the wall space left by absent posters, her bedroom is adorned with an array of framed personal photographs, each encapsulating cherished memories from childhood whimsy to high school triumphs, and all the moments in between.

Yet, it’s the family portrait resting atop her vanity that draws Javier’s eye. He strains to decipher the intricate details of the photograph from where he stands, its contents obscured by the tilt of the frame. 

Paloma, attuned to his intense focus, trails his gaze, her stomach tightening at the realization.

Oh.

“Here, it’s my makeup bag and outfit. Please be careful taking this down. I spent all morning ironing it.” In an effort to divert his attention from the photograph, Paloma passes him her belongings. He carefully examines her features in an attempt at finding reason for her reaction, a half smile tugging at his lips.

“So bossy, hermosa. Don’t worry— your things are in capable hands.” He is reluctant to depart, preferring to linger and observe her as she completes her preparations, all the while mentally dissecting her character through the lens of her bedroom’s decor.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” She confesses, making her way back to her vanity, inconspicuously moving the photo of her, her mother and father out of the way as she returns to the tedious task of curling then rolling her hair.

“You’ll be fine. Pressure can either crush you or make you shine brighter. Let it be the latter. And hey, no matter what happens tonight— I’ll be right there cheering you on.” The reassurance flows from him without much thought, a rare occurrence for the man who typically struggles with offering comfort. There’s a naturalness to it, as if the words are drawn from some deep wellspring within him, bypassing the usual barriers of hesitation and uncertainty.

Paloma, sensing the sincerity in his gaze reflected back at her through the mirror, finds herself caught in the spell of his eyes. In that fleeting connection, she grants him a tender smile, her heart responding to his affection.

Unsurprisingly, the words bring her some ease, especially since she’s aware of how difficult it can be for him to muster up any type of verbal compassion. He’s a man of few words, after all, so each one carries extra weight when spoken.

“Thanks, cowboy, M’grateful for your support… and y’know, for taggin’ along even though you didn’t have to.” He nods at her, letting the comfortable silence speak for itself as she continues to get ready.

He senses an underlying urgency within her. Experience whispers caution in his ear, reminding him of the cardinal rule gleaned from years of female companionship: never incur their wrath while they are in the midst of getting ready. And so, he tears himself away, surrendering to the unspoken dictates of the feminine domain.

They’re just thirty minutes away from their destination, yet she remains fixated on the changing landscape outside the window. Her claim of not leaving Seminary in over a decade rings true, evident in the awe reflected in her eyes at the sight of skyscrapers and influx of people.

Javier can’t help but find her genuine amazement endearing, particularly as she gazes out with her hair pinned up stylishly, secured by a silk scarf. The journey to Dallas spans four hours, but the lively conversation between them makes the time fly by, rendering the trip far shorter than it actually is.

Their growing closeness feels like a beautiful risk as they delve deeper into each other’s lives with every passing mile.

“Y’know, I actually do know some Spanish.” she remarked, drumming her fingers lightly against her thigh.

“I had a hunch when you never asked me to translate my sweet talking.” With an arrogant smirk, he looks over at her.

His smirk has her playfully rolling her eyes, “No puedo leer o escribir tan bien, pero entiendo y hablo en forma conversacional. (I can’t read it or write it very well, but I understand it and speak conversationally.)” In a tender twist, her voice took on a sweeter tone in the other language, prompting Javi to shift in his seat, attempting to refrain from envisioning the enchanting timbre of her words whispered intimately in the quiet sanctuary of his sheets.

“Tu acento (Your accent) … Argentinian?” He’s got a real talent for picking up languages and accents, honed through his international collaborations in the field.

Paloma just shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. My momma taught me and she never really talked about her life before meetin’ daddy and stuff. I never really asked questions. After she passed, I didn’t keep up with it as much as I should have.”

The pauses in their conversation are rare, occurring only when the topics of family or his experiences in Colombia arise. Javier notices her keen interest in these subjects, her curiosity palpable. While he has been guarded about delving into anything beyond surface-level details, he finds himself gradually warming up to the notion of sharing a glimpse of his past with her, if only to satisfy her insatiable curiosity.

Yet, he holds back. This wasn’t the time. He wasn’t about to cast a shadow over her spirits.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Paloma disrupts the tranquil hush that had settled between them, her fascination with the scenery outside pulling her into the moment.

“Well, believe it cariño because we’re not too far from the fairgrounds.” 

“It’s like... a dream. I know, I might sound naive and childish gettin’ this worked up about performing at a damn fair. It just means a lot to me. I’ve poured my heart into my music for so long and to see it culminate in this moment is just... thrilling.”

A pang of longing for her mother’s presence washes over her, silently echoing within her thoughts. Yet she refrains from uttering the sentiment aloud, keeping her yearning hidden beneath a veil of silence.

“It’s a big and well deserved step forward, Paloma.” He pauses briefly, looking over at her, “This means the world to you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Javier’s hand, warm and reassuring, gently finds hers, creating a tender connection that sends a surge of warmth coursing through her veins. The soft brush of his skin against hers ignites a gentle flutter in her chest, stirring feelings she doesn’t want to admit. It’s as if a silent symphony plays between their touch, drawing her attention away from the scenery outside and directing it towards him.

With a soft, almost imperceptible smile, she meets his gaze, finding a silent reassurance and a flicker of something more lingering in his brown eyes.

Arriving at their designated area, meticulously mapped out in a thorough letter sent by Wendy to Paloma, she eagerly jumps out of his truck, bubbling with excitement, while he indulgently rolls his eyes at her enthusiasm.

Delighted to find the band already present and nearly done with setup, she breezes towards them despite her ridiculous appearance, exuding a radiant glow that outshines any imperfection. Her infectious happiness spreads like wildfire as she enthusiastically goes through the rundown of the gig with the group.

Javier stays out of the way, leaning against the bed of his truck. With a cigarette between his fingers and wisps of smoke curling into the air, he drifts into introspection

His mind becomes a labyrinth of memories, weaving through the tapestry of his past— the triumphs and tribulations, the moments of light and shadow. Amidst the haze of contemplation, he finds clarity in the decision that brought him to this juncture: the choice to refrain from confronting the Cali cartel.

Having spent years evading the ordinary, Javier stumbles upon an unforeseen refuge in monotony. With the weight of his taxing agent job finally lifted, he embraces the simplicity of everyday life with a newfound sense of relief.

As the days pass, Javier slowly discovers a peace he has long evaded, savoring the quiet moments that once seemed dull.

While the looming homicide cases in Seminary present formidable challenges, each one a puzzle demanding his attention, he approaches them with a newfound confidence. It’s a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had clouded his final days in Colombia.

However, amidst this newfound tranquility, there persists a secret too delicate to utter aloud. His ongoing infatuation with Paloma, a woman whose presence has become both a source of comfort and turmoil. He won’t acknowledge her significant role in his newfound ability to cope. Such complexities are best left uncharted, buried beneath the surface of their convoluted relationship.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Javier doesn’t notice when she approaches him.

“M’gonna go get ready. Sure you can survive a few hours without me?” She teases him and he exhales the smoke away from her, the aviators on his face masking the adoration gleaming in his eyes.

“I think I should be asking you that question, palomita.” The new term of endearment sends her heart aflutter, and she can’t help but feel how it resonates more when Javier says it in Spanish compared to when August had uttered it in English...

Little dove.

“In that case, no, I’d simply crumble without you.” She over exaggerates her words, punctuating them with a playful gesture and a touch of dramatic flair.

Their laughter intertwines, and her smile blooms into a radiant expression of affection.

“Órale nena, go get ready before you’re late to your own performance.” Javier indulges in another puff of his cigarette, and like the good girl she is, she saunters around the truck to fetch her belongings before heading off to the portable trailer, her makeshift dressing room for the evening.

In Paloma’s absence, he engages in conversation with the band members. Comprising three men and one woman, they share with him the story of how they met and how Paloma reignited their passion for music. The narrative resonates with her persona and innate ability to effortlessly charm those in her presence.

Javier an unsuspecting victim of this charm.

When the sun begins to set, he looks down at his watch to check the time as her lively voice draws near.

“Alright y’all, how do I look?”

Javier’s gaze falls on her. It’s as if the world around him fades into insignificance, leaving only her radiant presence to fill his senses. His breath gets caught in his chest, suspended in the awe that washes over him.

She beams with pride at the ensemble she’s meticulously curated.

A crimson leather corset embraces her waist with finesse, fashioned in the likeness of a halter top, baring her shoulders and presenting a tantalizing canvas of skin for all eyes to see. Her cleavage looks so inviting, accentuated by her mother’s cross pendant nestled against her breasts. She transformed a pair of aged low-rise jeans, adding intricate rhinestone patterns that promise to dance enchantingly under the glare of the stage lights.

The buckle on her belt is beautiful and distinguishable, an important accessory down here in Texas; she’s made sure that her boots match her attire.

Her hair cascades in perfect waves, thick and luscious, framing her face with a touch of effortless glamor. It’s been a long time since she’s had a full face of makeup on, and the strip lashes are uncomfortable against the sensitive skin but beauty is pain and goddamnit she’s stunning.

She feels the part of a super star, and her band members do nothing but boost her ego as they begin to shower her in compliments and friendly catcalls. She indulges them with a twirl, allowing them to admire her outfit from every angle.

Javier stays silent, dumbfounded entirely by how fucking hot she looks.

“I think I just saw a horsefly fly into his mouth.” One of the bandmates teases and this has Javier snapping out of it, meeting Paloma’s expectant gaze.

For a man who always has something to say, especially in the company of beautiful women, he finds himself at a loss for words.

“You look gorgeous, querida.”

She blushes, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’ as her eyes momentarily flicker down to her square-toed boots. It’s exasperating how easily he can get her flustered. The compliment isn’t extravagant, yet it strikes her deeply nonetheless.

She won’t admit that the extra effort she invested in her appearance tonight was not just for the event; but also for him. She is aware that Javier finds her attractive and it harbors this desire to unveil a new facet of her beauty to him so he can see all the types of beautiful she can be.

As the rest of the group disperses to squeeze in some last minute warm ups, Paloma saunters toward him. Her hands rest confidently on her hips as his gaze traverses the curves of her form, unabashed and unapologetic.

“I’m serious. You look hot and I know you’ll look even better when you’re up there doin’ what you’re so passionate about.” His words have her heart racing, igniting a kaleidoscope of fireworks that burst with intensity within her core.

“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?” 

“Only when I’m around someone as captivating as you.”

Fuck.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Is that so?” With a contemplative tilt of his head, he gazes at her, his aviators now absent, allowing her to lose herself yet again in the depths of his enchanting eyes. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to keep it coming. After all, I can’t resist making a beautiful woman smile.”

They stand toe to toe, Paloma tilting her chin upward to meet his gaze while Javier gently inclines his head downward to meet her eyes.

As he looks down at her, the thought of planting a gentle kiss on her lips, a token of good luck, flits through his mind. Just as the impulse begins to take hold, fate intervenes and Paloma is called to the stage, leaving their moment suspended in anticipation.

“Break a leg, palomita.” He tells her, stepping back so she can make her way up the steps.

It is both everything yet nothing she expected.

As she ascended the stage, she discerned a comforting familiarity: the typical audience size from her usual gigs back home. This recognition alone served as a balm to her nerves, reassuring her that she could handle it.

It felt decidedly manageable. Yet, as the performance progressed, the crowd swelled to such a density that individual faces blurred into an indistinguishable mass, a sea of humanity stretching before her.

With every fiber of her being, she poured herself into that performance, channeling raw emotion and passion into each note. This may very well be her first and last time gracing an event this grand, and she was determined to leave an indelible mark.

This wasn’t just a performance; it was a cathartic release, a showcase of her skills. It is no surprise that the crowd was thoroughly charmed and entertained beyond measure.

As the final note faded into the night, she knew she’d given it her all, leaving nothing but her heart and soul on that stage.

She reaches the backstage area, exuding palpable excitement and practically launching herself into Javier’s awaiting embrace. He catches her with ease, sensing the electrifying energy coursing through her as her arms wrap tightly around him in a warm hug. With her legs securely wrapped around his waist, he spins her around in a joyful twirl before gently lowering her back to the ground, their shared enthusiasm filling the air with an infectious energy.

“You did so good, hermosa.” Javier gazes warmly at her, his lips curved in a genuine smile. 

“That was so exhilarating, holy shit!” The expletives fly from her lips and this only deepens his amusement.

“Like, I almost blacked out out of excitement.” Paloma inhales deeply, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath, her heart pounding so vigorously it feels as if it might leap from her chest at any moment.

The rest of the band gathers around, exchanging congratulations and warm embraces. Paloma takes a moment to express her heartfelt gratitude, her voice tinged with sentimentality as she thanks them for steadfastly supporting her seemingly silly musical aspirations.

“Oh, that reminds me,” She breaks away from the small group, strolling over to Javier’s truck. Retrieving her purse, she rummages inside and retrieves a disposable camera she had brought along for the occasion. “Can you take a picture of us?” She asks with a gentle pout, her eyes sparkling as she looks up at Javier.

“‘Course.” Javi readily accepts the camera from her hand and steps back to make sure they’re all in frame. He snaps the photo, the flash is blinding for the split second it appears before he hands her back the camera.

“Gracias cowboy.” 

Her voice carries a playful sweetness that has him feeling like a lovestruck fool.

The band leaves to head back home, the sun now fully set as Javier and Paloma remain. Their figures casually propped against his truck, casting a relaxed silhouette against the backdrop of the vibrant fair lights sprawled out before them.

“We should get going—”

“You’re kidding, right?” Paloma interrupts, leveraging herself off the hood of the truck with a fluid motion, positioning herself directly in his line of sight. Her hands find their place firmly on her hips, projecting an aura of assertiveness.

“No…?” He answers unsurely, his gaze sweeping over her form from head to toe.

“I haven’t been to the fair since I was a kid. I just have to ride one ride... and indulge in some fried goodness... and maybe try one of those tricky carnival games,” She shares eagerly, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

She gazes at him with those bewitching eyes of hers, he silently curses himself for knowing he’ll give in.

“I dunno, princesa, it’s getting pretty late…” Fighting a fight he knows he’ll lose, he still moves forward with his opposition. The least desirable outcome from staying late would be facing an irate sheriff questioning why his daughter returned home in the dead of night instead of the earlier time she’d promised.

“Oh don’t be such a stick in the mud. We’re allowed to have fun every once and a while. If it’s my daddy you’re worried about; he’ll get over it.” Paloma draws nearer to him, her hands delicately clasped behind her back, the fusion of her perfume and innate scent enthralls him completely.

Javier can’t help but surrender to her charm.

“Fine.”

A large smile spreads on her crimson tinted lips and she squeals, clapping her hands together before tugging him in the direction of the bustling fair.

The first thing Paloma does is drag him over to a food stand where she proceeds to order a funnel cake, fried oreos and two way too large lemonades.

“Fried oreos?” His nose scrunches at the idea which earns him a soft slap to the arm.

“They are quite literally the best damn thing to ever be invented.” She defends the unhealthy snack, reaching into her bag to pull out money to pay but Javier stops her before she gets the chance to. 

As he smoothly glides a bill across the counter, Paloma feels a warm flush creep up her cheeks at the simple gesture. A flicker of uncertainty dances in her mind as she ponders the significance of this moment— is it possible that this is... a date?

No, certainly it isn’t. It’s an outing between two friends. He is just being a gentleman and paying for their food. No big deal, right?

In the quiet recesses of her mind, she revisits their flirty exchange shared just moments before she took the stage and the gentle display of affection that followed after her performance had concluded.

Don’t overthink it, Paloma, just enjoy the moment.

So, she pushes all those thoughts aside as they patiently wait for their order. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He grumbles with his arms folded protectively across his chest.

She finds herself entranced by the sight of him. His torso is adorned in a brightly colored blue shirt that accentuates his handsome features paired with jeans that sinfully cling to him. She marvels at how effortlessly he pulls off this 70s-inspired ensemble. It’s just one more reason among the many of why she finds him so irresistibly attractive.

Their order number is called and they swiftly collect their things, moving over to an empty picnic table and sitting across from each other.

“Alright, be prepared to have your mind blown.” She plucks one of the golden-fried treats from the paper tray and slides the remainder enticingly across the table to him.

Javier eyes the dessert carefully before picking one up and observing it.

“There is no way this is good for you.” He remarks skeptically.

“It’s not supposed to be good for you it’s supposed to taste good.” Paloma counters, taking a bite and emitting a satisfied hum at the burst of flavor, “If that’s the case then you shouldn’t smoke. There’s no way cigarettes are good for you.” She mocks him, a playful glint in her eye as he scoffs in response.

Following her lead, he gingerly takes a bite, his brow furrowing at the unexpected taste.

“Absolutely not,” He declares, confirming his verdict with a decisive shake of his head.

“Oh, you are so lame.” They laugh and she drags the tray over to her side, “Whatever, more for me. Just please don’t tell me you’re a funnel cake hater too.” She plops another one into her mouth, her gaze fixated on him.

“Rest assured I’m not a funnel cake hater. It was my favorite growing up. Haven’t had one in ages.” Now that, Javier easily snacks on as they seamlessly weave through conversations, trading tales of cherished childhood snacks.

Once they finish, he gathers their garbage and goes to dispose of it in a bin nearby. Upon his return to the table, his eyes sweep the surroundings, only to discover that they are no longer in solitude; a small group has gravitated towards Paloma, eager to engage her in conversation.

This puts him on edge, slightly, eyeing the interaction.

Amidst their conversation, he catches fragments of praise floating in the air, surmising that they must be members of the audience who had seen her perform.

His suspicions are proven right once they leave and she turns to him with a bright smile.

“Looks like I’m not your only groupie anymore.” 

“Oh don’t be jealous. You’ll always be my favorite.” As she rises from her seat to join him, he gently intercepts, his gaze fixating on a subtle trace of powdered sugar lingering at the corner of her lips.

“Hold on…” He murmurs, stepping closer to her, bringing his thumb up to his lips then wiping away at the spot.

A shiver jolts up her spine, her breath catching in her throat as his seemingly simple gesture sends waves of arousal rippling through her. He is driving her crazy.

“I— thank you.” She blushes, “Oh man, that means I had a whole conversation with food on my face.” Slightly embarrassed, she slaps her palm against her forehead and he chuckles at her.

“There are worst things to be embarrassed over.” He shrugs and she nods, “ So, what now miss I absolutely have to stay and enjoy the fair.” Javier teases, as they begin to walk around the fairgrounds. 

Paloma rolls her eyes, “You’re like an insufferable child.” She can’t help but comment, eyeing some of the rides until she spots the drop tower. “Ooh, let’s do that one.” She practically races over to the large structure, leaving Javi behind.

“Who’s the child now?” He murmurs to himself, trailing after her.

Standing in line together, they exchange playful jabs at the people around them in whispered tones. For the first time in a very long time, Javier finds himself genuinely laughing.

“We have to get on the pendulum ride after this. Oh, and the gravitron. I also really like those spinny swings.” As she rambles on about her beloved rides, his gaze lingers on her radiant beauty. Moreso since she’s adorned with an enchanting smile and enveloped in laughter. With each joyful expression, Javier feels a familiar tug at his heartstrings, the same irresistible pull he’s been steadfastly pushing aside since their very first encounter.

This is definitely more than just some sexual infatuation. The revelation that he harbors genuine feelings for Paloma weighs heavily in his chest. In that moment of clarity, he understands the need to consider stepping back, for the well-being of them both.

He doesn’t want to hurt her.

But for tonight, he will let himself enjoy her company and everything that entails to. He grants himself this rare luxury under the guise that it’s for her sake.

“You’re ambitious tryin’ to get on all these rides, querida. Gonna end up puking all your precious fried oreos out.” They’re at the front of the line now, and as Javier makes his remark, one of the exiting patrons from the ride hurls over and throws up in a nearby bin.

They share a look before breaking out into a harmonious laugh. She finds herself yearning to capture this perfect moment, to preserve its essence in the confines of a frame, forever etched in her memory.

“Impeccable timing, vaquero.” They board the ride together, sitting right next to one another and she swings her legs softly as the attendant comes around to make sure they’re strapped in properly.

“I’ve done a lotta dangerous shit in my life but riding one of these seems to be at the top of the list.” He tells her as they begin their ascend to the top.

“Don’t tell me a little fair ride is more dangerous than an armed drug dealer.”

“Drug dealers are predictable. Fair rides aren’t— how can you actually trust somethin’ that’s disassembled, packed away then rebuilt elsewhere. How are you so sure they build it adequately each time? You’ve seen the people who run this. It’s sketchy.”

“Sounds like you’re scared. Don’t be scared, Javi. Here— you can hold my hand.” She extends her hand, reaching out to gently grasp his, intertwining their fingers and applying a tender squeeze. He’s not scared he’s just wary, but feeling the weight of her hand in his is enough to fizzle those inconvenient thoughts away as they’re suspended in the air for what feels like forever before they finally drop.

Paloma releases a delighted squeal, erupting into a chorus of giggles as they reach the base of the ride. “See? That wasn’t too bad. The ride didn’t collapse and we live to see another day.” With a final squeeze, she relinquishes his hand and they get off the ride swiftly.

Similar scenarios unfold as they explore the other attractions; their banter punctuated by playful jabs at the people in line and Javier meticulously dissects the safety measures (or lack thereof) of each attraction. Despite his scrutiny, he finds himself thoroughly enjoying the experience alongside her.

As they stroll through the carnival game section, Javier’s eyes light up as he catches sight of a tacky looking plush snake, swiftly diverting Paloma’s attention towards it.

“Isn’t that your favorite thing in the world?” He teases, feigning curiosity, earning an eye roll from Paloma as she playfully pinches his forearm.

“Not a fan of real snakes and reptiles, you goof,” She retorts with a grin. “But I’ve got nothing against a cute little stuffed animal like that.”

“Do you want it?” He asks, gravitating towards the stand and she follows.

“What, are you gonna win it for me?” She questions with a flirtatious lilt, twirling a lock of her hair as she raises her eyebrows, a playful sparkle dancing in her chocolate brown eyes.

“I will, if you want it.”

“If I want it that means you have to win it. And you know what they say about these games…”

Their banter continues as they approach the stand. Javier reads that it’s a baseball toss bottle game and he smiles cockily.

“What do they say?”

“They’re rigged and impossible to win.”

“Well lucky for you, nena, I’ve got the best arm in Laredo.”

Paloma’s interest is piqued, her head tilting slightly as she observes him. “You play baseball?” She asks, her tone curious and attentive.

Javier hands over payment to the teenager tending to the stand, effortlessly cradling three baseballs in one hand. This has Paloma licking her lips.

Her gaze is drawn to the rugged contours and sinewy strength, imagining the delicious weight of them against her skin. There’s an electric charge in the air, sending shivers of anticipation straight to her cunt.

“I did. All the way through college.” Oh she can see him now, clad in those tight baseball uniforms. She bets his ass looks amazing in the pants.

“The more you know.” She muses, “But that was like, all the way back when baseball was first invented.” She patronizes him, never getting tired of making jokes about his age.

“Ha, ha. So funny and original.” 

“Alright darlin’ enough yappin’, let’s see Laredo’s best.” She’s fully expecting him to fumble, honestly.

Javier rolls his shoulders, stretching his arms, and Paloma’s eyes linger on the way his shirt molds to his defined muscles with each movement. His broad shoulders and flexing biceps command her attention as he effortlessly pulls his arm back and throws the ball with graceful ease.

In one fluid motion, he knocks down all the bottles.

A satisfied smirk graces his lips as he turns to meet Paloma’s gaze.

“Told you.”

She lets out a low whistle, clapping her hands together in a slow applause. “Alright, I stand corrected.” she admits with a smile.

The worker hands Javier the stuffed animal, and he extends it towards her.

“For you.”

“Such a gentleman.” She murmurs softly, pulling the prize close to her chest. The sight of her holding it with such tenderness is one that will linger in his memory for days to come.

“Oh shit.” She begins, a hint of dismay in her tone, but his concern melts away as she retrieves her camera from her bag. “Forgot to take more pictures. Do you mind gettin’ one with me?” There’s a hint of shyness in her request, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t mind at all, cariño.” He assures her with a warm smile.

She returns his smile and proceeds to ask the teenager at the stand to take their photo, who obliges, undoubtedly persuaded by her beauty.

“Alright we’ll do a smiley one then a silly one.” She suggests, stepping back to Javier’s side and leaning against him, her eyes twinkling as they prepare to capture the moment.

He doesn’t pose, instead, he gazes at her admiringly, wondering how he’ll summon the courage to distance himself from her after tonight.

She tilts her head to meet his gaze after the photos are taken, mirroring the affection in his eyes before stepping away to retrieve her camera.

Javier clears his throat, the sound breaking the carnival’s cheerful din as he glances down at his watch. The hands inch towards midnight, a reminder of the impending end to their evening. “ Los tenemos que ir (we have to go).” He says softly, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance.

She pouts slightly, pursing her bottom lip.“One more ride, please Javi. We didn’t get on the ferris wheel.”

As he’s done all night, Javier acquiesces, unable to resist her earnest plea. “You are a very persistent and spoiled little thing,” He remarks, fondness lacing his words. Her playful smile transforms into a devious smirk at his observation.

“Thank you.”

The bench-style seating on the ferris wheel feels snug, their bodies nestled close together as the metal bar rests across their laps.

Despite the attendant’s insistence that she couldn’t bring it on the ride, Paloma clung to the plush snake he’d won for her as she (politely) told him to fuck off.

At first, silence envelops them, the rhythmic creaking of the ride the only sound as they ascend to the pinnacle of it. Lost in their own thoughts, they share a quiet intimacy, their hearts beating in synchrony.

The fair lights twinkle and sway, casting a glow upon Paloma’s face. In that moment, bathed in the colorful illumination, her beauty is magnified. If that's even possible.

“What’s goin’ on inside that pretty head of yours?” Javier breaks the quiet between them, and she turns to meet his gaze.

“Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve had in a while... and you’re part of the reason.” She confesses, her voice sincere, melting the barriers he’s long held onto.

“It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, palomita.” He responds, his arm draped along the back of their seat. Unable to resist, she leans in closer, finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

His smell envelops her, intoxicating her senses as she inhales the earthy musk of his cologne mingled with a hint of sweetness from their shared meal earlier.

“I mean it, Javi. Ever since you came to Seminary my life has been a lot more… fun.” She tells him earnestly, her voice barely above a whisper. Their proximity is electric, teetering on the edge of temptation, and her words only add fuel to the fire.

Her name escapes his lips like a solemn prayer, a gentle reminder of the boundaries they’re dancing dangerously close to. Their lips barely graze each other, his mustache tickling the sensitive skin above her lip.

Suddenly, the ride lurches with an unexpected jolt, shattering the tender moment between them. She swiftly withdraws, seeking whatever space their cramped confines afford her, her fingers clenching the metal bar for stability.

“Told you I didn’t trust these damn things.” He mutters, his palm clammy as he rubs it against the coarse denim of his jeans. His throat tightens with a heavy swallow.

Silence cloaks them like a heavy blanket for the remainder of the ride and even as they walk side by side to his truck.

No words pass between them.

Paloma leans against the window, mirroring her posture from the ride up, exhaustion seeping into her bones after the long day. She resists the urge to dwell on the events of the evening with Javier, instead surrendering to the pull of sleep. Her eyelids flutter closed, and soon, she drifts unconscious.

He steals a sideways glance at her, strands of hair cascading over her features like a veil. Amidst the quiet hum of the car, he catches the faint sound of her soft snores.

His shoulders slump in resignation as he replays their moment on the ferris wheel in his mind, each iteration leaving him more conflicted than before. Would they have shared a kiss if not for the technical issue?

He wants to believe they wouldn’t have; that he would have had the strength to pull away before it was too late. But the enticement of her lips, the desire to taste her, lingers in his thoughts like an unshakeable temptation.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he wrestles with his inner turmoil for the duration of the journey back to Seminary.

“I’m still so upset I couldn’t go. It woulda been so fun.” Sloane remarks from her spot on Paloma’s bed, idly flipping through a magazine while her friend meticulously applies nail polish.

Days have passed since the state fair, leaving Paloma and Javier in an awkward limbo. She despises the distance that has grown between them. How could she have been so foolish as to ruin their night by coming off as strong as she had? Everything had been going perfectly until then. Had she scared him off? Was his silence a sign of disinterest?

It’s all so fucking confusing.

“Uh, hello. Earth to Paloma.” Slo snaps her fingers and this gets her attention, looking up from her hand to meet her friend’s gaze.

“Sorry, I wish you coulda been there too.” She gives her a tight lipped smile and this has Sloane narrowing her eyes at her.

“Alright, spill. What happened?”

She snorts, shaking her head and returning to the task at hand. “Nothin’ happened.”

“Lie to somebody who doesn’t know you.” She shifts from her spot on the mattress, sprawling herself on the floor in front of Paloma.

She eyes her friend briefly before letting out a sigh and twisting the cap on the polish. “Fine. I think I fucked things up between me and Javier.”

That was certainly not what Sloane was expecting her to admit, but she’s intrigued nevertheless and she turns to lay on her side, head in her hand and elbow propping her up.

“Don’t tell me you slept with him.”

Paloma’s face flushes, despite having a plethora of erotic dreams starring the man in question, “Wha— No. I didn’t. Jesus…” She mutters, attempting to blow the polish on her right hand dry. “We actually had a great night.” She can’t help the small smile that plays on her lips at the remembrance of said night.

“Okay…” Sloane urges her to continue, “For a songwriter you sure are a shit storyteller.”

Paloma flips her off and Slo blows her a kiss, “Things between us have always been flirty. It was fun at first, exhilaratin’ and what not. Then… feelings started developin’. I like him, Slo. Like him like him.” It’s the first time she’s said this outloud and the confession has her feeling lightheaded.

“Awe, my baby is growin’ up. She’s got a crush.” Her friend teases, poking at her exposed calf.

“Yeah, well, I don’t even know if he feels the same way. I mean, at first I thought he did then I… we almost kissed on the ferris wheel and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

Sloane flashes her a sympathetic stare, “Well he’s an idiot for not kissin’ you. Let’s start there.” She sits upright, matching Paloma’s stance, “Are you really surprised? Not to burst your little schoolgirl crush bubble but it’s obvious what typa man he is. Flirty, handsome, charismatic. Sex on legs— a long trail of broken hearts follow that man. C’mon, baby, you must know this.”

Paloma is keenly aware of his reputation as a charming playboy, a fact that’s far from concealed. Now, she’s flooded with feelings of foolishness and embarrassment for how she had openly pursued him. It was almost inevitable; of course, he would reciprocate her advances. After all, what man could resist when a beautiful woman is vying for his attention?

The thought that he might have lost interest gnaws at her, causing an ache in her chest. Aside from all the romantic stuff, she genuinely enjoyed his company.

She chooses not to dwell further on the topic, and her friend seems to pick up on her reluctance.

In a sudden twist of conversation, Sloane announces, “Guess who has a house now.” Paloma’s attention perks up in surprise.

“What, really? Since when?” From what she knows, Sloane and a few others have been living long term at the only motel in town. They hadn’t intended on staying in Seminary very long which is why Paloma had gotten her the job at the bar in the first place, so she could save up some money to keep trekking.

Hearing that she now has an actual place to call home brings nothing but joy and excitement for her friend.

“Since a few days ago. We’ve been so damn busy that I haven’t been able to tell you. Completely unexpected, too. Apparently some broad August used to know finally croaked and she left him with her entire estate.”

Paloma’s eyes widen at the news, “Jeez, talk about impeccable timing. I’m glad y’all got it worked out. Now you’re stuck here with me.” She jests, “When can I visit?”

Sloane taps the tip of her chin, “What about tomorrow? It’s about an hour drive from here—”

“An hour?!” Paloma interjects, incredulous.

“— and it’s beautiful . You’d love it. Don’t get hung up on somethin’ as trivial as travel time .”  

Sloane’s right, outside from the hub in town; their residence is situated in a predominantly rural expanse, making lengthy travel times like that unusual. And with her car now up and running, Paloma has a newfound sense of freedom to explore beyond their immediate surroundings.

“Fine, tomorrow sounds good. You can stay the night and I’ll drive you there in the morning.” She offers, prompting Sloane to break out into a giant grin.

[emmatiedemann]

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

How does the series use dual-focus narrative as a strategic storytelling tool beyond heteronormative romantic pairings?

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend uses dual-focus narrative to highlight rivalry rather than heteronormative romantic pairings. For example, Rebecca and Valencia are pitted against each other because they share a love interest. Their “rivalry” plays out through song even though they eventually become friends. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s dual focus narrative deviates from the typical heteronormative “marriage plot” because although the conflict appears to stem from the shared love interest, the real conflict is less about Josh and more about generalized feelings of comparison, inadequacy, and jealousy. This “parallelism” that Stilwell mentions allows for the focus to be placed on the women and their journey from enemies to friends, rather than the typical heteronormative romantic coupling. In fact, the article mentions that “the drive created by a rivalry offers greater scope for expansion in an open-ended narrative like a television series”. This scope has allowed Crazy Ex-Girlfriend to subvert expectations of the genre—a Vox article even mentions that the show is “a complete deconstruction of the marriage plot”.

What are the the "inevitable" couplings within the series and how are they accentuated through "cinematic" similarities and contrasts?

Some of the “inevitable” coupling established in the beginning of the show is Rebecca and Greg. Greg is friends with Josh, the main love interest. This kind of trope–Greg’s interest in Rebecca while she’s preoccupied with someone else–links them as the heterosexual pairing. Their literal similarities appear in the first episode when they learn they have similar difficult pasts and darker senses of humor. Cinematically, Rebecca and Greg are depicted as normal characters which helps create their chemistry, while Josh is almost always depicted in a dramatic, romanticized way to mirror Rebecca's imagination and perception of him. He is often lit with dramatic lighting or appears in slow motion with some sort of fog machine. This cinematic contrast between Greg and Josh, allows for a more obvious coupling between Rebecca and Greg.

How does the series use musical numbers within and beyond the narrative world to replicate fairy tale, backstage, or folk musicals?

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend uses costumes, over-the-top choreography, and showy sets to parody famous fairy tale, backstage, and folk musicals. The show visually references numbers like “Cell Block Tango” from Chicago and “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend” from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, but uses its own original music instead. These obvious references to famous musicals are established so that the show can subvert and critique the original narrative. For example, when Rebecca is in jail, the song “What’s Your Story” is used as an obvious musical reference to “Cell Block Tango”. The female inmates are costumed with black lingerie over their orange jumpsuits, calling attention to the original number’s unrealistic over sexualization. Rebecca begins singing and demands the same sensationalized stories from “Cell Block Tango” and is disappointed to hear stories that are more complicated, sad, and distressing. By referencing memorable musical numbers like this one, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is able to call out problematic overgeneralizations and sexist stereotypes with humor and theatricality. 

[psychebrief]

Brief on "Psychedelic-Assisted Group Therapy: A Systematic Review"

Paper

Trope, Alexander, Brian T. Anderson, Andrew R. Hooker, Giancarlo Glick, Christopher Stauffer, and Joshua D. Woolley. “Psychedelic-Assisted Group Therapy: A Systematic Review.” Journal of Psychoactive Drugs 51, no. 2 (March 15, 2019): 174–88. https://doi.org/10.1080/02791072.2019.1593559.

Abstract

Contemporary research with classic psychedelic drugs (e.g., lysergic acid diethylamide (LSD) and psilocybin) is indebted to the twentieth-century researchers and clinicians who generated valuable clinical knowledge of these substances through experimentation. Several recent reviews that highlight the contributions of this early literature have focused on psychedelic-assisted individual psychotherapy modalities. None have attempted to systematically identify and compile experimental studies of psychedelic-assisted group therapy. In therapeutic settings, psychedelics were often used to enhance group therapy for a variety of populations and clinical indications. We report on the results of a systematic review of the published literature in English and Spanish on psychedelic-assisted group therapies. Publications are characterized by their clinical approach, experimental method, and clinical outcomes. Given the renewed interest in the clinical use of psychedelic medicines, this review aims to stimulate hypotheses to be tested in future research on psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy, group process, and interpersonal functioning.

Table

Annotations

“Group psychedelic use in nonclinical contexts (e.g., ayahuasca or peyote rituals) is beyond the scope of this review” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 174)

“As psychedelic medicines enter pivotal trials in the United States and Europe, the prospect of postapproval clinical innovation with different administration modalities, including group therapy, arises.” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 175)

“12 studies met inclusion criteria, which required that the article contain some description of group methods, demographic and diagnostic information, and quantified outcome data.” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 175)

“It is notable, however, that the two positive studies —as well as the single uncontrolled study for alcoholism (Chwelos et al. 1959)—used either a 12-Step model or group therapy specifically adapted for psychedelic administration, while the studies with null findings did not use these elements.” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 185)

“The AmericanGroup Psychotherapy Association has made available evi-dence-based clinical practice guidelines and validated mea-sures to assess interpersonal functioning and groupcohesion (Bernard et al. 2008; Krogel et al. 2013; Strauss,Burlingame, and Bormann 2008)” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 185)

“The range of clinical approaches used in these reviewed studies illustrates the complexity involved in designing future trials of psychedelic-assisted group therapy. The optimal number of group members, drug dose, sequencing and number of group sessions, and type of group therapy are among the variables to consider. As opposed to the group administration of psychedelics that was common in early research, researchers today will likely, at least at first, use groups solely for the preparation and integration of individual psychedelic administration sessions.” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 185)

“Because preparatory and integration sessions entail the majority of total therapy hours a patient receives in modern protocols, delivering these sessions in a group format may improve the cost-benefit and time efficiency of research and clinical operations (Villapiano 1998).” (Trope et al., 2019, p. 185)

Personal Memo

Although I have heard that 1960s research was quite wild, it is still shocking to read the specific descriptive lines directly: “Individual drug sessions took place in a single room with patients physically restrained to a bed with a Posey belt during the duration of peak drug effect” (Smart et al., 1966). “Pilot study of 75 patients receiving LSD or LSD plus methamphetamine in a group setting at a psychiatric night hospital that served as a partial hospitalization program” (Bierer and Browne, 1960).

In my opinion, the efficacy of psychedelic group therapy lies in the comparison to individual psychedelic therapy, but there were no studies addressing this comparison in the reviewed paper. Moreover, as the authors stated, there can be various ways group therapies can be conducted (“The range of clinical approaches used in these reviewed studies illustrates the complexity involved in designing future trials of psychedelic-assisted group therapy”). The optimal design for psychedelic group therapy would be definitely challenging but interesting.

There have been some psychedelic group therapy sessions, including ayahuasca experiments conducted since 2018, which are, of course, excluded in this paper since it was published in 2018. A new review paper summarizing such recent research would be welcomed.

[blackbird-brewster]

🔥 for most hated fic tropes overall AND in the cm fandom 👀

[Send me 🔥 for an Unpopular Opinion]

Most Hated Fic Tropes: Honestly, there's not many I hate. I LOVE tropes! I guess the one I struggle with is 'love triangles' and jealousy. (He says while writing a fic nicknamed 'Toxic Yuri') I'm a polyam guy and it's hard for me to fully get into fics with heavy unnecessary and especially undisclosed jealousy stuff. Like, if you have two hands why can't you have two (or more) partners?!

CM Fandom: PLEASE GOD LET US MOVE ON FROM THE MGG OBSESSION I AM BEGGING. We are TWO seasons into the reboot (which does not have Reid in it) and YET, you cannot look at a cast member's socials, the CM socials, or literally any article with a comment section without seeing 500 comments about 'When will Reid come back!?' 'Where's Reid though?!' 'It would be better with Reid!'. It's alllwwwayyysss been like this and it's so exhausting. THIS IS AN ENSEMBLE CAST although this season seems to be the Dave and Elias show and they all deserve love, especially the female cast members who have gone through SO much during this show's history. Shoutout to AJ and Paget who were both fired without warning, only for CBS to beg them to come back when ratings tanked 😎

This is probably a larger issue than just our fandom, but when I had socials I only ever followed a few of the CM actors in terms of celebs, so I only know this in the scope of CM cast -- but PLEASE STOP sexually harassing celebs. PLEASE. The non-stop deluge of creepy ass tweets like '[AJ/Paget/Whoever] let me make you a lesbian' or 'I'll call you Mommy all night' or other nonsense were the reason I left socials tbrh. These are real life people who do not owe you jack shit and who especially do not deserve to be treated like objects that you can sexually harass publicly.

Say it with me now: ACTORS ARE *NOT* THEIR CHARACTERS!!!!!

[plungermusic]

Do you suffer periodical pain? A doctor speaks …

Navigating the confusing plethora of independent music magazines on the British scene can easily give you an ache in the analogy, so let Dr Plunger MD steer you through the maze as painlessly as possible...

Blurts in Brisbane: Originating from the early 90s obsession with Stratocasters, large hats and Texas as Floorplan it continued (despite the public’s waning interest) into the noughties as Bulls in Burton. After more than a decade, its doughty editor / reviewer / interviewer / tealady / janitor / publisher passed the baton on to subsequent eminence grises who maintained the tenor of ardent amateurism. Notable for its highly democratic structure (basically those who read the magazine also largely wrote it), quibbles over amateurism persisted. Consequently, new management brought in music biz reps, PRs, agents and wannabe artists, to add a sheen of professionalism. So now Vanity Schmanity is written largely by those who appear in it.

Steam Butlers: Arriving on the coattails of the above, Meat Bustlers staked its claim by employing its own unique flourishes: publishing bi-monthly: adopting an A5 format that made it ideal for hanging from a piece of string on the back of the dunny door; and appending the wrong caption to pictures, the wrong pictures to articles or reprinting the same article at various points across the magazine. Recent management changes may have seen Late Bumsters come more into line with the mainstream, but it hasn’t neglected its roots completely: garbled prose, mangled spelling and the laughable misidentification of songs in album reviews remain, to remind the reader of its proud heritage.

“Arrrrrr… what be we called this week?”: With a much wider scope than the above two, the issue of what to call yourself was always going to be a problem, one that was solved by using an ever-changing, apparently random selection of words, letters and even numerals. As well as a fiendishly eclectic range of genres (and an even fiendishlyer eclectic allocation of artist to those genres) “Arrrrrr… 2D2?” also holds the record for the most acts listed on a front page of any publication. In the world.

Classy Crock presents Bandwagon!: A sadly short-lived foray into more niche music genres by a much loved titan of the music mag scene, this bold and ballsy decision to latch onto a captive market of well-off pensioners was scuppered by the financial backroom shenanigans of its  new parent company. Despite its stablemates’ eventual resurrection following an eleventh-hour rescue, Bandwagon was the only fallen runner in the field to be shot on the course and turned into glue and dog food.

Placket Ron Wandbagon: Following the initial demise of Classy Crock, Placket Ron Radio saw the chance to bandwagon Bandwagon by bringing out their own print magazine to fill the gap (or rather make a new gap) in OAP’s wallets. Unfortunately he who hesitates is lost, and delays resulted in Placket Ron announcing Wandbagon’s launch on the very day Classy Crock was reborn, torpedoing the whole shebang below the waterline just as it left the slipway,

Fireguard / Powershower / et al: More recent entrants onto the scene, with the interesting variant on many of the preceding publications in that the common trope of applying a blues filter to anything (even heavy metal) is reversed. Often eye-poppingly printed in yellow type on black backgrounds, Firelighter / Powercut allow their relatively youthful readership to relive the migraine inducing graphics of early gaming and music websites in the days before broadband. An outlier in this field of newbies is The ERBerts, who proudly trumpet the age of their target demographic with quizzes and puzzles you last saw in a copy of Titbits or Woman’s Realm at the dentist.

[the-citrus-scale]

Trope Scope: Accidental Declaration of Love

What is it?

An accidental declaration of love is exactly what it sounds like. It is when a character unexpectedly blurts out their love for another, generally in the most awkward and embarrassing way possible. It is usually accompanied by wide eyes and a lot of stammering after the confession has been made. Ideally, this trope ends in a confession of love from the other character and the two live happily ever after, but that might not always be the case.

Why is it popular?

This trope is popular because there is nothing more satisfying than that moment when a character finally confesses their undying love for the character you’ve been imagining them with all along. It’s even better when it’s accidental since you probably weren’t ready for it, despite all those fandom fantasies. It’s also far more likely to get a real reaction from the other character, since they’ll be thrown off their game by finding out at the least opportune moment.

What are some examples of this trope?

Nothing made Grey’s Anatomy fans happier than when Lexie Grey finally got up the courage to confess her love to Mark Sloan. It wasn’t so much accidental as unplanned, perhaps, but she blurted it out to him outside the hospital after a big surgery, so we say it counts. Mark didn’t respond right away, though he was clearly conflicted. He finally returned her confession right before she died in a tragic plane crash. Not long after, Mark died himself, strongly believing that Lexie was waiting for him. Yeah, it totally sucked, but at least they said it, right? 

How about a happier example? This one’s a blast from the past, kids. On the very popular 90s TV show Friends, everyone was thrilled when Chandler and Monica started dating. It wasn’t really a question of if they would say they loved each other, but when. Of course, no one expected Chandler to say it when Monica was trying to cheer him up while dancing with a turkey on her head. It’s definitely one of the funniest and most heartwarming moments of the entire series. 

How do you use this trope in your own writing?

It’s pretty easy to incorporate this trope in your own writing. Throw in some supposedly unrequited or otherwise complicated feelings and just make the confession as awkward as possible. And awkward can mean many things here. The place could be awkward, the situation could be awkward, or there could be an audience. Maybe it’s even all three. Just ambush your characters when they least expect it. They’ll probably thank you later.

[the-arctic-commune]

Belief and Activism in Media

Or, why Technoblade is the villain.

Before we get started, I want to acknowledge my debts. I owe the seed of this post to.... someone. Probably at least a year and a half ago, a post in Techno’s tags about this topic is what got me thinking about it. I particularly owe that poster for linking this wonderful article [x], which dives into the topic with more detail and broader scope. I highly recommend reading it if you’re interested. However, that was, as I say, many months ago, and I have no idea who the poster was. So if this topic seems familiar to you, please let me know so I can give credit where it’s due!

Now, let’s set the stage. I brought this up in relation to the Red Festival. In particular to the climax of the Festival, in which Technoblade, under threat by Schlatt and his administration, was forced to kill his ally Tubbo.

This was, shall we say.... controversial.

Both within the server and without. Tommy fought with Techno over the murder/execution multiple times (strangely, perhaps, Tommy was much more distraught than Tubbo in the immediate aftermath, but that’s a different post), and it was still being brought up as late as the “Rescuing Michael” streams, when Technoblade apologized to Tubbo for the incident. The fandom, meanwhile, has spilled a great deal of ink discussing whether this was an acceptable or even justified action on Technoblade’s part.

In relation to this incident, and more broadly to the often-controversial actions of Technoblade and his fellow anarchists on the server, I think there’s a very interesting way to understand why many people were (/are) so vehemently adamant that Techno made the wrong decision.

Anarchy, you see, is villain-coded.

(This post is going to be heavily discussing mainstream media in the US, particularly media produced by Hollywood, Disney, and related giants. If you go to smaller producers or other cultures, you will certainly find plenty of counter-examples to what I’m about to say, but hopefully we can all agree that Hollywood has a big impact on what many English speaking audiences expect from stories and media, and that this is a big portion of the Dream SMP audience.)

.

Part 1: Activism Is Evil

The article I linked above is “Outlaw Kings and Rebellion Chic,” by Alister MacQuarrie for the New Socialist on March 27, 2019. It discusses the phenomenon of the non-ideological hero.

Mainstream media loves rebellion, but it doesn’t want to discuss why we rebel. Heroes rarely have a defined cause, ideology, or even plan for the future once tyranny is overthrown. Instead their motivations are vague notions of “freedom” and “justice,” defined mostly by how the villain is preventing them, and their greatest victory is a promise of return to “normalcy,” a presumably-democratic and prosperous society but we don’t have to get into the details.

Villains, in contrast, often do have a defined ideology. In common storytelling wisdom, heroes only react; it’s the villains who provoke them by acting, and thus the villains who need a cause to fight for or an ideology to drive them.

Ideology, then - the simple fact of having beliefs about the society and politics around you - becomes a feature of villains, while heroes promote an artificially constructed non-ideology, a vague liberal-centrist position which licenses reaction but not action and tolerates change only insofar as it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable.

You see this in the trope of the activist who goes too far - a side character who the hero must prevent from causing harm, because they care too much about their cause and, depending on the story, may be willing to sacrifice life or morality to get it. You also see it more prominently in the trope of the villain who has a completely rational reason to want to tear the system down - and also is totally ok with murdering babies and kicking dogs, so the story doesn’t have to engage with their philosophy and it’s fine to just kill ‘em and leave things the way they are. To “engage” with current activist movements, issues of climate change are filtered through the ecoterrorist; issues of racial justice are filtered through the extremist or separatist; and so on and so forth.

“The Legend of Korra” is possibly the most absurd example of this trope in popular media. Multiple season villains in this TV show are activists whose ideology is then twisted into cartoonish evil in order to avoid actually engaging with the critiques they present.

The Season 1 villain is Amon, leader of the Equalist movement. He and his followers critique their society’s prioritization of benders (in-universe magic users); benders preferentially control the government and military and even, due to their unique skills, have access to job opportunities that non-benders are barred from. This leads to non-benders having little say in society and being more likely to live in poverty; the Equalists want to change this.

Also they commit multiple acts of terrorism and kidnap benders to forcibly strip them of their powers. And Amon is actually secretly a water bender which means he’s a hypocrite and we don’t have to listen to him anyways. The Equalists are defeated and the problem of non-bender inequality is never mentioned again.

Season 3 introduces Zaheer and his fellow anarchists. They fight for freedom and wish to tear down the governments of their world; they assassinate at least one major world leader. Also they want to brutally torture the protagonist Korra to death. For, uh, reasons. Anarchy! Once they’re defeated discussions of freedom and tyranny are completely dropped; oppressive empires are good because anarchists are worse.

So hopefully you see what I mean. In mainstream media, belief and activism are the domain of villains, and thus they are villainized.

A character who comes onscreen speaking of tyranny and revolution is not to be trusted. If someone cares enough about their ideology to become an activist and fight for it, they’re almost certainly the bad guy.

And, to the vague change-averse liberalism that Hollywood likes to project, few ideologies are quite so ideological as that of the radical anarchist.

.

Part 2: Compromise Is Never An Option

Ok, so you can probably see the seeds of what I’m arguing here, but there is one slightly tangential point that’s important to bring in. Because there are things that the “non-ideological” hero is allowed to fight for: life and friendship.

These are usually supposed to be the highest priorities of the hero, and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing! Heroes fight to keep people safe, especially their friends, and they don’t compromise. One for all and all for one; we don’t trade lives.

No matter how hopeless the odds, heroes are supposed to keep fighting, and they must refuse to sacrifice for their victory (unless it’s self-sacrifice, which is usually ok). This is what motivates them in absence of any more sophisticated ideology; the villain kills or threatens people, so the hero defends them.

In “Star Trek,” Spock repeatedly insists on the Vulcan adage that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. This is treated as cold and alien, and is something he’s supposed to give up as he learns to value and rely on his friends. It’s all right when it’s self-sacrifice (Spock subjects himself to lethal radiation to save the ship), but it’s not all right when it sacrifices others (the rest of the crew rejects Spock’s concerns when they decide to risk their entire ship for the sake of a few crew members).

In “Star Wars,” Lando Calrissian betrays the heroes to Darth Vader. He does this because he’s responsible for an entire city. Darth Vader and his Empire have threatened Cloud City if he doesn’t comply, and they are far too powerful for Cloud City to fight off on its own. Lando can betray his friends, or he can let millions of his citizens die. The choice, though hard, seems obvious, but the narrative still treats it as an unconscionable betrayal. It’s only once he seems to truly regret his actions - and thus to, at least tacitly, admit that he should have let his city die rather than betray his friends - that he can be redeemed.

So: heroes don’t sacrifice, and they don’t compromise. They’re supposed to always keep fighting, no matter the odds. After all, they’re in a story. Victory will come, no matter how improbable.

Right?

.

Part 3: Technoblade’s an Anarchist

When he first logged onto the Dream SMP, Techno (IRL) had a plan. He needed a way to fit himself into the narrative, distinguish his character, and explain his presence in the story. So he decided that he would play an anarchist, someone who had come to support his friends in their fight against Manburg’s tyranny.

This started out as a pretty media-typical portrayal of anarchy as an unprincipled “the strong survive” approach (see his pitch to BBH), but quickly evolved into an actual, principled, self-consistent ideology, as IRL Technoblade seems to have taken an interest in the philosophy.

Genuinely, Technoblade’s portrayal is probably one of the best depictions of anarchist politics I’ve ever seen in popular media. But most people’s expectations are based on the caricature of the philosophy that is usually presented, and the one he started with.

So I argue that many people were simply primed to assume that Techno was, narratively speaking, a bad guy. He wasn’t solely fighting for Wilbur or Tommy - he was fighting for their cause. He had beliefs to fight for outside of his loyalty. And in the tropes of popular media, that made him suspicious.

(Of course, in one sense this is correct! He did end up abandoning the Pogtopians when their victory put them in power, and thus in conflict with his ideals.)

At the Red Festival, killing Tubbo a was an indefensible act not because killing in general is wrong (that would be pacifism and thus ideological and suspicious), but because it wasn’t the act of a hero. A hero would have found a different way. No one ever seems to be able to say what that “different way” should have actually been, but it doesn’t matter: our sense of narrative justice says that there must have been one because it’s what a hero would do. It doesn’t matter that, in-character, Technoblade has no idea he’s a hero; he should operate like one, and he’ll make an incredible last-minute escape because that’s how stories go. How the story does go is replaced with how the story should go. Never mind that in MCRP a single misclick could completely upend such a story.

.

So Technoblade gets double strikes. First, he’s an “activist,” which is narratively suspicious. Second, he doesn’t operate as a hero (at least early on), placing no trust in deus ex machina to save him and his friends.

In the language of narrative tropes, Technoblade is “villain-coded,” especially prior to his “retirement arc.” His actions at the Red Festival are particularly villainous, both because he, essentially, gives up and because he expects his friends to share his dedication to their cause.

That makes it quite easy to end the analysis with Techno as the bad guy!

.

To be clear, though it’s probably been clear throughout, I’ll end by saying that this isn’t a perspective I agree with. The media’s vilification of activism is something I greatly dislike. Technoblade as a hero with a radical cause is an enormous part of why I liked his DSMP story so much.

[harbingrs]

This dynamic is always because they want to be considered "normal" as opposed to The Weirdos. People see aberrance as the thing that needs a word/label (something that's automatically othered and stigmatised).

So if you put a word on their Normalness? They feel like they're being unfairly stigmatised and othered. They automatically see it as a negative thing that's denying them the typical privilege of being normal.

See also: the way cis people react to being called cis.

Image ID: Google search result for an SBS Australia article, titled What does cisgender mean and is it a slur? Preview text reads: Elon Musk says calling someone 'cis' or 'cisgender' will be considered a slur on Twitter. ... "The words 'cis' or 'cisgender' are considered slurs ... End ID

Image ID: Twitter's guidelines define slurs and tropes as language which "intends to degrade or reinforce negative or harmful stereotypes about a protected category. End ID

People who are comfortably normative feel that just being "othered" in any way is degrading and a threat, that they could lose the perks of being Normal.

I would guess that the only reason this doesn't happen with 'straight' is that it sounds like it has positive connotations (at least from a conservative-morality viewpoint) in terms of saying you're Normal. Plus, people aren't aware it was even coined by gay communities

Image ID: 1900s: Straight. The phrase “straight” came out of gay communities in the mid-twentieth century. At a time when gay sex was still illegal, it was slang for “going straight” – as in getting “back on the straight and narrow” after having sex with men. End ID

Before that, straight people were literally just called 'normal':

Image ID: Screenshot of definition/etymology of normal (adj.). Most text is scribbled out, leaving two sections clear: 'c. 1500s, typical, common' and 'Meaning "heterosexual" is by 1914". End ID.

Ironically, the closest thing we have to a slur for straight people is 'heterosexual', historically speaking:

Image ID: Our current scope started when the Austro-Hungarian journalist Károly Mária Kertbeny coined the term “heterosexual” in 1869, alongside “homosexual”, “monosexual” (someone who masturbates) and “heterogenit” (which refers to bestiality). For Kertbeny, the denomination was like a diagnosis – a medical rather than a cultural that referred to someone who had a deviant or “morbid” attraction to the opposite sex, an apparent precursor to “too straight to function”. At the end of the 1800s, “heterosexuality” started popping up in the writings of sexologists, and in 1923 it was added to the Merriam Webster Dictionary as “morbid sexual passion for one of the opposite sex.” By 1934, the definition shifted to include the description “normal". End ID

Plural culture is having a singlet trying to tell you that "singlet" is a slur

.

[cinnamonsikwate]

ah-HA finally I see someone talking about the Talokan world building! One thing that I haven't seen anyone mention is the specific shade of blue the Talokanil turn into on the surface, but I think it's supposed to invoke Mayan Blue! The wiki article on it is (in my uneducated opinion) pretty good, but one thing that stood out is that human sacrifices to Chaac were painted that color, which is just, so profound. The detail of this film, ugh!

I discovered this when I was trying to find symbolic colors that other people would turn into if they joined the Talokanil. It was for a plot bunny that I will likely never catch, but a pre-Black Panther K'uk'ulkan saves a dying N'Jadaka by giving him the Talokanil Herb after mistakingly thinking N'Jadaka was the son of a Talokanil. I thought Haint Blue (a Gullah shade believed to ward off ghosts) would be a good ironic choice for N'Jadaka, but I'm not sure if a color so heavily associated with the American diaspora would be a good choice for a Wakandan like Shuri ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yes, I partially made this ask to plug my prompt lol. I'm disappointed that not many fanfics are doing the world building that the Talokanil deserve! Instead they're just being treated as people who sometimes go in the water at best, or invoking racist Native tropes as worst. But I loved your detailed post about their clothing! You did an amazing job at researching! Now, if only Ryan Coolger and the crew would release the 200-page bible they wrote about Talokan...

hello and thank you for this ask!

tbh i didn't look up much regarding maya blue when i wrote the clothing analysis posts, but after doing some reading, i definitely agree! many of the scholarly articles on maya blue focus on its chemistry rather than its cultural significance, but the reason researchers find it so intriguing is its near-indestructibility (sánchez del rio et al. 2011, 453-481), which i think ties in neatly to the talokanil ability to self-regenerate.

this passage from arnold et al. (2008, 151-164) is particularly interesting:

when the shaman was trying to convince fen to drink the liquid, we see someone holding what looks like an incense burner in the background. we can take the talokan plant to be a stand-in for the indigo plant, and the vibranium that it contains as a stand-in for palygorskite (a clay mineral). so all three together = maya blue.

the idea that the zamá people were sacrificing themselves for chaac's protection? damn???

anyway. i LOVE your prompt! it's very thought-provoking. i have had somewhat related idle musings, mostly because i'm not sure how realistic it is for the talokanil population to have ballooned to beyond-the-grass-of-wakanda numbers from only a handful of founders in a span of less than five centuries. i like to think that at some point they were regularly rescuing people from the surface, adding to the diversity of their gene pool and also bringing in new customs and technology.

several questions arise though: how long were they doing this, who did they rescue, and how wide was their geographic scope? we know at least one talokanil extra is afro-indigenous; the kids shuri meets in talokan aren't credited on imdb but they looked a lot whiter to me than the other talokanil, so the actors may be mixed. aside from razing haciendas and plantations on the mainland after that first time, would they also have rescued people from the trans-atlantic slave trade? would they have swum around to the pacific and rescued people from the manila-acapulco galleon trade?

which brings me back to your prompt and has me asking more questions - would chaac's blessing cover someone who is not one of his people? is conversion a prerequisite? although the idea that anyone — from indigenous americans to africans to filipinos — can become talokanil is interesting, because would that mean they'd have communities within talokan where they continue to practice their cultures? how would their different worldviews affect how they see and treat k'uk'ulkan? and — would they still be maya blue or would they take on a color more connected to their original culture? if they do take on different colors, haint blue for n'jadaka does sound pretty fitting (especially since it also uses indigo). as for shuri though, since she didn't take the unmodified talokan plant, should her skin color still change?

if i had the stamina to write fic, i'd have run away with this prompt, but unfortunately i don't, so let's put this out there and hope someone takes the bait! (fish pun intended)

i do occasionally come across fics (usually of the shipping variety) that i think do a pretty decent job of world-building, but they tend to focus on the present-day customs of the talokanil and less so on their early years (which is what i'm more interested in). i do dearly wish we get to see more canon talokan lore soon, but if ryan coogler is not involved somehow, idk if i can take it lol.

again, thank you so much for taking the time to read my meta, and i appreciate your engaging with me!

p.s. according to hannah beachler, the talokan guide is 400 pages!

[kdramacrybaby]

Extraordinary Attorney Woo (2022)

Genre: Legal drama, Romance

Synopsis: Woo Young-woo is a young lawyer, who graduated with the highest honor, but she has trouble finding a job because she is autistic. Eventually, she does get a job at Hanbada Lawfirm, and she is put on a team with a supervising lawyer and two other newly graduated lawyers. Young-woo is gifted with a photographic memory, and it helps her recall every law and pieces of evidence necessary for their cases, but because of her autism, it is hard for people to take her seriously. With her team, Young-woo fights to take her rightful place as a lawyer like any other, all while solving the different cases that are thrown at them.

Episode info: 16 episodes / Runtime around 70 minutes

Lead cast: Park Eun-bin (Woo Young-woo), Kang Tae-oh (Lee Jun-ho), Kang Ki-young (Jung Myung-seok), Ha Yoon-kyung (Choi Su-yeon), Joo Jung-hyuk (Kwon Min-woo)

Link to watch: You can watch on Netflix or Dramacool

Drama rec masterlist | Drama rant thread (beware of spoilers)

I do not really know how to start this review, so I think I’ll start with a quote from this article called Extraordinary Attorney Woo is autistic representation at its best and its worst  (I found this article a very interesting read as it goes over both the positive and negative aspects of creating a drama like this - for example, while some people feel really represented by this media, this drama is now also used in South Korea by children to bully others who are “different”).  

“It’s unrealistic to expect one character — or even one series — to fully represent the full scope of a disability. And even shows that are aiming to do good can fall short.”

It’s also important to note that I am not on the autism spectrum, and therefore can not and will not speak on the behalf of neurodivergent people (or whatever else they might identify as). I will do my best to go at this like I would any other drama, though I do want to start with stating that I - for once - did some research before going into this drama.

I heard a lot about the show, but did not want to watch it, if the people it is supposed to represent does not feel like it was doing its job properly.

From YouTube, I found the creators Stephanie Bethany, who did a video on their thoughts about the drama (here), and Tsuki Iwamoto, who has made an entire series reacting to the drama (here) - both creators are autistic, and I loved seeing the drama through their eyes. So if you liked the drama (and even if you haven’t watched it yet) I highly recommend watching their videos on this. 

While in general, it seems the drama has been positively received, there are of course also people out there, who might not feel represented, and I would love to hear your thoughts as well!

Now for my thoughts on this drama; it’s overall super cute and easy-going, while at the same time handling some very sensitive topics - of course mostly related to the obstacles Young-woo faces because of her autism. While the over-all plot is focused on her, it does also go through the typical kdrama tropes you will see in other dramas, so often Young-woo is “just” another lawyer on a case, and she works like everyone else - just in her own way.

I also really like the one-case-per-episode format that is keeps throughout, as we get to see the team handle all sort of different moral end ethic dilemmas as they try to do their best in a new job. And the romance is adorable in all the best ways!  

I’m always a sucker for teams coming together, learning and growing together almost like a family, and this does all that and more. It leaves me wanting to know more about them; how they end up and are they happy after the show ends? 

Overall, just a fantastic legal kdrama that I highly recommend watching!

There are rumors of a season two already, and while I will probably watch that, I will not review it here. 

[pastavessel]

Modest Fashion: Take it with a grain of visibility

In her article, Tiina Rosenberg discusses modest fashion as a feminist strategy in the Swedish context. What I take from her text is that modest fashion can pave the way for “positive representation” of Islam and help eradicate the stigmatization of hijab; her argument is anchored in the idea that visibility of under-represented communities matter, and it is through modest fashion that Muslim women can extend the scope of their opportunities in the society (288).

While Rosenberg mentions that modest fashion is also connected to capitalism and consumerism, my problem with it lies specifically in the notion of visibility. It is indeed important for under-represented communities to be visible, but visibility on whose terms though? Modest fashion, while promising to rescue Muslim women out of essentialist tropes, manufactures the image of a certain kind of Muslim woman – her faith, now sanitised, is made more fashionable and digestible. Her visibility is not ‘extreme’ anymore, it is ‘modest.’ This takes me back to McRobbie’s text, and I see here the production of a global girl through modest fashion – “The global girl comes forward, primarily in the advertising images […] as emblematic of the power and success of corporate multi-culturalism. This envisages young women, especially those from Third World countries, as enthusiastic about membership of and belonging to, a kind of global femininity. There is both difference and homogeneity in this fashion and beauty system” (880). The success of modest fashion is expressed in “her new found freedoms” from ditching the more ‘oppressive’ style of hijab, “her wage earning capacity” as her faith is now packaged in a more professional attire, and “her enjoyment of and immersion in beauty culture and in popular culture” as a feminine figure who can balance fashion and faith (McRobbie 88).

Lo and behold, the global girl, now donning the latest modest fashion, becomes an ideal in the East with her tricks and tips to make faith stand out as a choice rather than imposed. In Bangladesh, modest fashion has been the rave for a good couple of years now, with many Instagram influencers gaining popularity through it. Mumtahena Elahi, popularly known as @abayaholic comes to mind. A fashion influencer, she has made a brand out of her practice of modest fashion. She is one of the many of her kind, but surely is the earliest of the women jumping on the bandwagon. As I scroll through Instagram, I see more and more of my hijabi friends and relatives following her footsteps, many of whom were forced to wear the hijab by their family. And while modest fashion has served as a space of negotiation for them (making the best out of their situation), is it truly a feminist strategy for them? Islam couldn’t share the table with my feminism, and I wonder what food is served at theirs.

All pictures have been shared from Mumtahena Elahi’s blog. 

Citation:

McRobbie, Angela: “Top Girls? Young Women and Post-Feminist Symbolic Violence.” The Aftermath of Feminism, Sage, 2009, pp. 54-93.

Rosenberg, Tiina. “Wrapped in Meaning: Modest Fashion as Feminist Strategy.” NORA - Nordic Journal of Feminist and Gender Research, 2019, vol. 27, no. 4, pp. 285-289.

[demi-shoggoth]

2021 Reading Log, pt 19

Almost 100 books and it’s only just July! This summer vacation, I’m averaging a book a day.

91. Medieval Bodies by Jack Hartnell. This is a look at how medieval people viewed the body, from medical, cultural and religious perspectives. It goes from head to toe, literally, organized by region moving from the crown down. The book is more interested in communication between Christendom and Islamic sources, and also covers Byzantium in some depth. I was not expecting it to be an art book, but it is. It features full color photography of artifacts and pages from medieval manuscripts. Some of these I’ve seen recently in Madman’s Library. One thing that I thought was very cool is that when quoting primary sources, it includes the original language, regardless of what language or what script it uses.

92. I Watched Them Eat Me Alive, edited by Robert Deis and Wyatt Doyle. This is a short (digest sized) compilation of killer animal stories from men’s adventure magazines from the 1950s through 1970s. There are five stories in total, as well as dozens of pieces of cover and interior art and short articles about some of the authors, artists and tropes on display. The stories themselves range from the ridiculous (an anthropologist is torn apart by killer flying squirrels!) to semi-plausible (a wounded mountain lion goes on a rampage, and only our square jawed hero can put him down!), but all of them are short, punchy and super gory. I would have liked if the book were physically larger (say, magazine sized) to reproduce the covers in finer detail, but this was a fun way to spend an afternoon.

93. Lizards of the World by Mark O’Shea. After last year’s similar Spiders of the World, I had very high hopes for this book. It was slightly disappointing only in that it wasn’t perfect, but it is still very good. The first third or so is an overview of lizard anatomy and behavior, and the back two-thirds are entries on each family, with full color photographs throughout. The parts that irked me was the reluctance of the author to abandon hierarchical Linnaean classification in favor of a cladistic approach, and a complete refusal to acknowledge that mosasaurs are lizards, which all paleontologists agree on. But this is the grumpy old evolutionary biologist in me grumbling. The stuff about living, modern lizards is all fantastic. The photographs are beautiful, and there are plenty of species covered I wasn’t familiar with. One thing of note is that some major lizard groups have been broken up, and the scientists are having fun with it. The armored lizards Cordylus have been split up and new genera named Ouroborus and Smaug erected to fit some of its former members!

94. Attack of the Flickering Skeletons by Stuart Ashen. A follow up to Terrible Old Games You’ve Probably Never Heard Of, with more reviews of broken, unplayable computer games from the 1980s and early 90s. This has somewhat of a broader scope than the first book. There are galleries of weird cover art, comparisons between arcade originals and their Commodore 64 ports, and a lengthy article about Hareraiser. This last being a scam computer game duology made to cash in on the popularity of the Masquerade book/treasure hunt in England. A fascinating little bit of British pop culture ephemera, and I’m glad it got a place in this book.

95. A Short History of Humanity: A New History of Old Europe by Johannes Krause and Thomas Trappe, translated by Caroline Wright. This is another European science book imported to the states, translated this time from the German. The original German title is The Journey of Our Genes: A Story About Us and Our Ancestors. Frankly, a mixed and matched title (The Journey of Our Genes: A New History of Old Europe) would fit the book better in my opinion. But enough about that. Krause is an archeological geneticist—his team discovered the Denisovians—and the book is about what we can understand about human migration by looking at DNA from remains throughout Europe and West Asia. The book was written with a polemical perspective in mind—to counter claims by modern nationalists in Europe to close borders, by pointing out that Europe was populated by multiple major waves of immigrants in the past, and that there’s no such thing as “races” from a genetic perspective. In the introduction, they point out that in 2020, the chapters about how pathogens moved with and through human populations will be more relevant than they seemed in 2017, when the original edition was written.

[first-and-last-neocount]

*cracks knuckles*

Alright. 

You can all thank @theobscurepotato for bringing this to my attention, they sent me a screenshot of this description and even the furious keysmashing I sent them in reply did not assuage my burning wrath, so now I’m making a Thing of it and doing a proper dissection. 

What the shit is this. 

The rest of my vitriol will be under the cut, so I don’t completely nuke everyone’s dash with six miles of Coldfire ranting. 

Every line. Every line of this is wrong. I’m going through this in order, because otherwise I wouldn’t even know where to begin. 

“A priest tasked with helping other humans tap into the planet’s stores of magic.” Even if you’re trying to categorize this with other fantasy books and make it sound more familiar to non-fans, the fae is explicitly not magic. The text directly addresses the fact that magic is controllable and predictable, and that the colonists wouldn’t be nearly so fucked if they could actually control the fae, which is a natural force that reacts to the subconscious instead of conscious influence. If you’re looking for a traditional magic system and not hostile alien weirdness, the Coldfire Trilogy is NOT the series for you, this is giving people the wrong impression right off the bat. 

“He’s soon sidetracked, however, when his lover falls victim to a brutal attack.” This is slightly less glaring of a fallacy, but I would argue that Damien’s not getting sidetracked at all, because the text heavily implies that demon-hunting comes before teaching in the priorities of the Knights of the Flame. Their order is first and foremost tasked with eliminating hostile faeborn, and the teaching gig is something of a secondary concern - they haven’t even been doing it in the west, the program that Damien’s running is something of an experiment and the Patriarch treats the whole idea with poorly-hidden disgust. Damien himself makes the point, when he’s talking to the Patriarch about the expedition to the Canopy, that he’s duty-bound to hunt down these demons now that he knows about them - he found out about them sooner and is more personally incensed because someone he cares for was targeted, but it’s very clearly within the proper scope of his service to the Church, and that’s why the Patriarch sanctions the mission and gives him the Fire. It’s not like he drops all his duties and goes rampaging off to take revenge for Ciani. 

“She once could see the magic in the world, but now that her abilities have been taken away from her, she begins to lose her will to live.” This. This is pissing me off the most. I got the impression during my FFN lurker days that Ciani is... not exactly a universally loved character in the fandom... but I don’t think you have to be a huge fan of her personally to recognize that this is just completely wrong. The way this is written makes it sound like she’s some damsel in distress who has to languish on her fainting couch while her knight (hah) in shining armor goes off to save her, and that’s just - that’s not even close. She’s a badass. She’s tough and independent and goddamn fierce, and the fact that she even survives what the Dark Ones did is a testament to that. Even though she’s been viciously assaulted and essentially undergone the psychological equivalent of having a limb violently amputated, she goes on the quest with the rest of them, she refuses to stay in Jaggonath where it’s safe and is out there risking her neck right alongside the others. ‘Lose her will to live’ implies that she’s given up. That’s the furthest thing from the truth. She fights tooth and nail to get back what she’s lost, she even apprentices to the Hunter to try and relearn some of her abilities from scratch, do NOT try to tell me that those are the actions of a woman who’s given up on life. She’s not perfect, and of course she has some moments where she falters - her entire world’s been upended and she’s lost a fundamental part of her existence, it would be horrendously unrealistic for her not to struggle with that, but like hell has she lost her will to do anything. 

At this point I guess I should be glad that they correctly identified that this is the first book of the series and got the spelling of the name right. 

I think theobscurepotato raised the best point, though, that this description is so wildly off-base that anyone who thinks this sounds appealing will probably not even like the actual book. This sounds like some horribly cliche romance novel. Which, don’t get me wrong, those have a place in the world - but that’s not what this series is. This series is part fantasy part sci fi, with a dash of horror thrown in for good measure, and it’s about taking those familiar comforting fantasy tropes and going “Yeah, but what if we looked at it realistically and it turned out to be horrible”. This summary implies that this is the kind of series where the main hero goes off on a heroic quest to save the woman he loves, he succeeds without too much trouble, and they live happily ever after. This is actually the kind of series where a group of people set out on a quest for wildly disparate reasons, most of them suffer horribly along the way, and the main hero gets his ass dumped by his girlfriend so that she can devote her life to science. And that’s not even touching what happens in the later two books, which hoo boy, that’s a whole other can of worms. 

TL:DR; theobscurepotato said this description gave them hives, I feel like it gave me a stroke, and I am seriously questioning the sanity of the person who wrote it. Maybe let people who’ve actually read the book write the description next time, instead of someone who skim-read the Wiki article and went ‘yeah, this is probably close enough’. 

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

Was Norman Osborn ‘flanderized’?

It has been said that over the years, particularly following his resurrection, that Norman Osborn became a caricature of himself. Does this accusation carry any weight?

First things first, let’s define what the terms ‘flanderized’ and ‘flanderization’ actually mean. The most comprehensive descriptor can be found on TV Tropes. To quote an excerpt from them:

The act of taking a single (often minor) action or trait of a character within a work and exaggerating it more and more over time until it completely consumes the character. Most always, the trait/action becomes completely outlandish and it becomes their defining characteristic.

When it comes to Norman Osborn the accusations hinge upon his evolution into a villain who:

Just wants to kill Spider-Man

Is behind everything bad in Spider-Man’s life

Makes Spider-Man the point of all of his schemes

The latter point is often accompanied by referencing Norman’s original goal of taking over New York’s gangs. The idea being that originally Norman wanted to take over the gangs and then was ‘flanderized’ into being obsessed with Spider-Man.

To an extent these accusations carry merit, but not really the way detractors might think.

I’ll begin by addressing the two most obvious counterpoints.

Firstly, the idea that Norman’s vendetta and schemes against Spider-Man are ‘outlandish’ is a hollow critique in context.

Almost everything in super hero comic books is outlandish, even accepting the pseudo-science of super powers. The majority of super villains could make more money legitimately than as criminals.

Common crooks would be unlikely to go to jail if any masked vigilante beat them up. The world at large would never resemble the real world on any level if even one super powered being existed as it’d redefine what it meant to be human. Not to mention the confirmation of life on other planets, other dimensions, parallel universes, alternate timelines and the existence of deities and the afterlife.

So Norman Osborn’s schemes (the most ambitious of which was the ‘Clone Saga’) are only outlandish if we take it on face value. In context, it’s merely a large-scale version of super villain standard practices. After all, perhaps the two greatest Doc Ock stories of all time respectively involved him having secretly built an underwater base out of a James Bond movie and attempting to nuke New York City.

As for Norman ‘just’ wanting to kill Spidey, I’ve already addressed that in an earlier article.

Moving, on let’s talk about Norman’s schemes. Did they all revolve around Spider-Man? Well, even dismissing his post-OMD stories or stint as an Avenger, this is simply not true.

Osborn actually retained  his gangland aspirations in the 1990s. In fact that was his primary concern in Europe between his ‘death’ and ‘resurrection’.

When he returned to America during the ‘Clone Saga’ it was revealed (through exposition provided by the Rose) that Osborn was still very much involved in acquiring power through the criminal underworld.

Spider-Man: Made Men #1 revolved around various gangland figures vying for power. Osborn was unsurprisingly among the figures depicted.

There was some follow up to this in Peter Parker: Spider-Man #95 when the Kingpin tried to assassinate Norman as a rival gangster.

So Peter was absolutely not at the root of all  of Norman’s schemes.

Nor was he behind the majority of the bad things in Spidey’s life. Between 1997-2007 alone Norman had nothing to do with:

The Chameleon learning Spider-Man’s identity

The resurrection of Doctor Octopus

Mary Jane’s death being faked by her stalker

Spidey’s duels with Morlun

The Venom symbiote seeking out new and more violent hosts, including Mac Gargan

The destruction of Peter and MJ’s apartment and of Aunt May’s home

Peter’s failing health and death in ‘The Other’ arc

Aunt May being shot courtesy of the Kingpin

So when we look at the facts, Norman just doesn’t fit the definition of flanderization listed above. He’s far from a caricature of his early appearances. This is actually fairly uncommon in general among Silver Age characters. The vast majority of all characters who were around back then have developed at least some layers of complexity since then; if anything that’d be the opposite of flanderization if anything.

This is unquestionably the case for Norman Osborn. Through stories and issues like Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #14, ‘Revenge of the Green Goblin’, Spider-Man: Legacy of Evil #1 and ‘A Death in the Family’ Norman Osborn’s personality and psychology has been immensely expanded upon from what it was between 1964-1973.

But I do not deny the idea that Norman has changed and become more focused upon Spider-Man himself. Initially his primary goal was the conquest of the criminal underworld, through which the death of Spidey was a means to an end. But from the 1996-2005 (and arguably since Superior Spider-Man v1 #4 in 2013) Norman’s primary concern seems to have been his feud with Peter.

However, these accusations against the character seem to treat this change as unnatural. As though lazy writing simply kept exaggerating one trait of Norman’s and consequently made that the crux of the character.

In reality though this change in priorities was entirely organic. Norman grew gradually more and more frustrated with Spidey’s interference until he decided to just find out who he was and destroy him. Upon learning one another’s identities that  was when Norman and Peter’s relationship fundamentally changed. It became less about gangland aspirations but far more personal. This didn’t occur due to lazy writing across time, it was an evolution during he same run that invented Norman. And it happened around 2 years following his debut.

From there Norman was integrated into Peter’s social circle and Harry was unwittingly caught in the center of their feud. After ASM #40 every time Norman remembered he was the Goblin he wasn’t going after Spidey to rule the gangs, he was pursuing a personal vendetta against him. ‘The Death of Gwen Stacy’ in particular displayed this as Norman sought revenge for Peter giving him amnesia and for the harm he felt he’d done to Harry.

So, Norman’s priorities had fundamentally pivoted within less than 10 years of his debut. And it wasn’t due to lazy writing that ‘drifted’ him in that direction. It was an entirely believable evolution of what had began as a practical consideration and then spiraled into a personal blood feud.

Detractors though might argue that Norman became a caricature upon his return in 1996.

Even if he was manipulative and at times nasty in the Silver Age, it wasn’t nearly to the same extent as his portrayal in the 90s and beyond.

This is perfectly true. And you know what, the same can be said of the impact he had upon Peter’s life. He became far more integral to shaping Peter’s life from the 1996 onwards than he’d ever been in the Silver Age.

On these counts perhaps it’d be accurate to argue Norman became flanderized.

At which point I must ask…why is that a bad thing?

Let me give you an example that’s a bit left field.

In the 2010 animated show ‘Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated’ the classic Hanna-Barbera meddling kids got a major update. The most starkly different character though was Fred Jones. In the original and majority of Scooby-Doo shows Fred had almost always been both the de facto leader and the guy who planned the traps.

He was also the single blandest character of the main five, even excusing the pretty simple personalities of the rest of the gang.* SDMI however outright flanderized him. He went from the guy who happened to be in charge of setting the traps to someone literally obsessed with traps.

And you know what? He became immeasurably more interesting as a result. Suddenly he had a role within the group as the eccentric, the strategist and his interest in mysteries had more specificity as he actively looked for chances to ensnare would be ghosts and ghouls.

Whilst it’s often not the case, SDMI’s take on Fred proves that flanderization is not inherently  a bad thing.

This is certainly true in Norman’s case. His vendetta with Spider-Man, status as puppeteer and framing as the ultimate evil within the Spider-Man universe has been used to great effect over the years.

As a puppeteer and manipulator he was given greater scope to attack Peter and his loved ones, thereby making him a far more dangerous villain that Spidey couldn’t just knock out with a punch.

His framing as an ultimate evil also helps render Peter’s heroism in starker contrast. Everything that makes Spider-Man a true hero and champion for good is spotlighted whenever he confronts the sheer sadism and malevolence of Norman. Personally, I feel Peter Parker: Spider-Man #75 is the greatest example of this.

Call me crazy or old-fashioned but isn’t this an essential function of a villain in superhero fiction?**

And the emphasis upon the Parker/Osborn feud simply made their encounters more emotionally gripping. We all read Peter Parker’s adventures specifically for Peter’s character. We don’t want just any given person (spider powers or not) in the spotlight. We want to follow the ups and downs of his life, his relationships with his friends, family and colleagues, what job he’s working, where he lives, how he provides for himself and others, etc.

The Spider-Man story is in essence is the life of Peter Parker.

Having a villain who has a dramatic impact upon both halves of Peter’s life is more than creatively justifiable. It makes every encounter personal  and if we read Spidey because we’re personally invested  in his life then Norman’s vendetta renders him perennial relevant.

He is the villain who fundamentally tests the soul of our hero.

This isn’t to say that it wouldn’t be nice for Norman to be written with goals beyond Spider-Man. But my point is that making that his priority was never ever a problem in the first place.

In short, Norman Osborn was better  for his flanderization.

*Noticeably Fred’s character has had the most reinventions over the years when you look at wider Scooby media.

He’s been a cool douchebag in the live action films, something of a conspiracy theorist in ‘A Pup Named Scooby-Doo’, a cameraman in ‘Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island’, etc.

The lack of uniformity to his character is very likely an indicator of how simple and bland he originally was; and has largely remained since.

On a symbolic level one could even argue that Norman’s elevation to this personification of evil was appropriate for an older and adult Spider-Man. As we grow up the world in general grows darker and more sinister, presenting challenges that test our inner resolve.

A great example from modern literature would be Harry Potter. Harry ages from 11-17 across the seven novels, each of which dials up the amount of pain, cruelty and death Harry must confront.

[natsubeatsrock]

Did Mashima fridge Juvia?

Well, it was only a matter of time.

I knew I would have to talk about this some year on August 31st. It just happens that this is the year.

For those who don't know, today is a special day in this blog's history. Six years ago, I made a long post talking about Juvia. Most notably, I was fearful about the possibility that Juvia would die. A year later, I was reacting to chapter 499, where Juvia was presumed to have died. Since then, I've used this day to talk about Juvia dying in some way or another. 

Last year, I mentioned that I wasn't willing to open this can of worms. And yet, here we are. To be honest, I figured that this was a topic worth talking about, but not in that post. I was already planning to dive into that this year.

To start, let's talk about the term.

Flashback to 1994. In issue 54 of Green Lantern, the main character walks into his apartment. His girlfriend has been killed and stuffed into a refrigerator by one of his enemies.

Five years later, [insert descriptor here] comic book writer Gail Simone took this incident as the impetus to note a trend in writing female characters in comics. They die or face serious bodily harm to advance the arcs of fellow male characters. She teamed up with other writers to start a website called "Women in Refrigerators". It's a list of female comic characters who fit this trope, to some degree or another. It's still up today, and you can see some more recent inclusions.

My own thoughts on this trope are mixed. I think that there's something to be said about one character's development coming at the expense of another character. Especially if that trend is decidedly gendered. Though, this argument is used in ways that come across in ways that are infuriatingly stupid and short-sighted. I've even seen it argued that women being harmed in fiction is inherently misogynistic. (Please don't make me talk about this.)

In any case, the argument has far exceeded the scope of comic books. (I say as if I'm not talking about comics.) This has been brought up in talking about media of all sorts. Video games, movies, television, and more. If a female character is placed in harm's way, people will argue whether or not she was fridged.

So, with that in mind, let's talk about Juvia's death.

Or false death?

I mean, we thought she was dead, but it turned out to be a fake-out.

Actually, let's talk about that. That happens to be a great place to start.

Does it count as being fridged if the serious effects were reversed?

I know that probably sounds like I'm splitting hairs. After all, it's not as if chapter 499 is wiped out of existence because we also got chapter 500. Mashima ultimately decided to kill Juvia. That's what should matter most to our discussion. Honestly, I might be inclined to buy this argument under normal circumstances. However, there happens to be a group of people who argue otherwise. They've convinced me that this is worth talking about.

Who are these horrible misogynists who would discount this kind of suffering on Juvia's part?

The people behind Women in Refrigerators.

At least, sort of?

As you might imagine, people have argued against the idea of this trope. To many people, more men have been harmed in fiction. In many cases, men in pain are treated as nothing special. In fact, there are examples of men dying to further the character arcs of female characters.

As a response to this, the website has included an article entitled "Dead Men Defrosting." Essentially, it doesn't matter if men do go through similar pain. There is a difference between these situations. In many cases, men who get fridged are eventually restored to their initial state. They gain their powers, are healed, or even come back to life. Women don't often get that same opportunity in comics.

Let's stop and think about Juvia's situation for a second. She was dead for all of one week, as far as fans are concerned. In canon, it was even less time. If Gray decided to stay behind for a few minutes, he also would have been healed by Wendy. In fact, with the continental connection to Tenrou Island, the whole scenario is forfeit. In hindsight, Juvia's life was never in danger.

So, could it be said that Juvia was truly fridged if she ended up being "defrosted"?

No, technically speaking.

Then again, I've been very critical of the writing of this. I've made many posts explaining why I think this was bad. Would ending the discussion here be the right thing to do? More importantly, is that the kind of resolution you clicked on this post to find?

There is also an elephant in the room. For better or worse, Women in Refrigerators also includes women whose states were corrected. Now, does this contradict the point they made regarding male characters? It’s starting to feel as though I should make a post about this trope on its own.

In any case, let’s ignore the fact that this didn’t actually stick. For the sake of this, let's assume that this does fall under the definition of fridging. Or, at least, that it could.

Did Mashima fridge Juvia?

To say that it did would mean that the death was done to move Gray's character arc. And... well... I mean...

Look, Gray is pushed to the edge of his sanity because he believes Juvia has died. That much is obvious, given the context of his rematch with Invel. I'm not willing to argue that this wasn't the case.

But...

I can't say that Juvia's death was so big a reason for Gray to change. 

If we're talking about Gruvia, maybe it could be argued he decided to take Juvia's romantic feelings seriously after seeing her die. But that only works if you take his words in chapter 499 in the most literal sense possible. It's more likely that he already had feelings for Juvia and was ready to share them after the war ended.

Outside of that, because Juvia died, Gray fights Invel, who he blames for killing Juvia. When he beats the stuffing out of him, he finds out that Natsu was END and directs his fury towards him. They fight for a bit, but they're ultimately stopped. Once he finds out about the Natsu-Zeref death arrangement, he decides the best way to deal with the situation is to go through with Lost Iced Shell.

You could read this as Gray going through with Lost Iced Shell because of Juvia. If Juvia didn't die (but not really), Gray wouldn't think to go use the spell. However, this view discounts Gray's stated motivations for using Lost Iced Shell: guilt over fighting Natsu and wanting to protect him from dying. Gray obviously regrets how the situation with Juvia went if the final chapter means anything. But Lost Iced Shell doesn't seem to be done because of Juvia. (I may rant about a comment I got about this some other day.)

And now, I will defy conventional wisdom and make probably the most controversial argument possible about this moment. Juvia's sacrifice was for Juvia's character arc. Not Gray's.

It's worth remembering what Juvia's arc is. I know that fandom often questions what Juvia's arc is. However, I believe that her arc is best described as understanding love. When she first fights Gray, she says that she has no need for love. A few arcs later, she sacrifices herself because of her love for Fairy Tail.

The motivation for Juvia sacrificing herself for Gray is her love for Gray. No one questions Juvia's feelings for Gray. However, this moment shows that she's willing to sacrifice her own life for Gray. Do you think that Juvia would do this before Phantom Lord?

This isn't to say that I think Juvia's arc was well-written. It's easy to criticize Juvia's extravagant displays of love seem. Or how Juvia's love seems to center more around Gray than others. Or how there are ways to show that you love someone in non-romantic ways. And fans of the series have shared the problems they have with how Juvia's character was handled.

But we're not here to talk about those things. We're here to ask if Mashima "killed" Juvia for Gray's development. And, despite how bad I think the moment was, I can't say that Mashima did.

Consider I’m the one saying this. Like, it would be something if one of the bigger Gruvia blogs made this argument. (I feel as though a couple of them may have blocked me.) That’s something that could be expected. I’ve outright called this the worst moment in the series at one time. I’d love to tack on another reason not to like this moment.

But I can’t.

“That’s because you’re clearly against the idea of this trope existing, chauvanist pig!“

I’ll assume you missed the intro for the trope earlier in this post. I’m willing to admit that this does happen. In fact, I already talked about how I hate how Last Ages happened. Ultear got done way dirtier than Juvia did and didn’t have the effects reversed. Not to mention, it was ACTUALLY done to further Gray’s character.

In Conclusion:

I don’t think it’s a good idea to call what happened to Juvia “being fridged“. Even if Juvia were to have actually died.

[the-roadkill-cafe]

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

3. Hmmm. I wouldn’t say that there are specific fics that are an inspiration, per se. There are fics that make me filled with spite and then I write. I won’t name the fics, because I won’t publicly criticize another person’s work. But yeah, there are several fics that I read that made me think, “no, I don’t like this/your headcanons/characterizations/etc rub me wrong, let me do this the way I envision it.” And then I proceed to try to write my own fics.

5. Oh yeah, I definitely have fanfic pet peeves. Whether or not that they make me back out of the fic depends on the prevalence of whatever it is and how much it annoys me. In general, I don’t care for no paragraph breaks and first person narration. Specific to Naruto, I *hate* the nickname “Sak” for Sakura. I dislike nicknames in general in Naruto fics. Let’s see...I dislike Naruto and Tobirama being medics, and I have actual reasons specific to them. I’ll still read a fic if the latter knows medical jutsu, though I huff and sigh when I do. If Naruto knows medical jutsu, I will back out 90% of the time.

I also hate when fic writers write the Uchiha as all “stoic assholes” or whatever, but Kagami/Shisui/Obito are the “cheerful black sheep” stereotype. I’ve been reading mostly Warring Clans Era fic recently, so on that note, I hate when writers don’t present nuanced takes on the Uchiha vs Senju conflict. Neither one is more morally right than the other, so if the narrative tries to convince me that the Uchiha or Senju are evil or morally bad or obtuse or backwards or lesser than the other, I will probably write off the fic. Also I hate the “Hashirama is an idiot” trope. Or any connection of Uchiha and the word “flail”, unless it means the weapon. I think the idea of Uchiha being lovestruck by skilled shinobi and “flailing helplessly” or whatever started out in crack fics (maybe? hopefully) but its spread and now I see it everywhere and I can’t stand it. If that were the case, they should have all been slaughtered generations ago for their incompetence in the field.

Last one for now - I’m not sure this counts as a pet peeve, but I’m a bit...put off when fic writers deliberately draw from Chinese culture for Naruto. Naruto as a concept is, more or less, a fantasy Japanese culture. While there are random elements of non-Japanese culture (Tenten is a Chinese stereotype, Rock Lee is modeled after Bruce Lee, who isn’t Japanese, the 4th Raikage’s design is clearly inspired by American wrestlers and Killer B does in fact reference Texas at some point, which, how?), the setting is very clearly Japanese. While definitely Japanese culture has been incredibly influenced by China at various points in history, the scope of which is beyond this tumblr ask and honestly my own expertise (I’m a linguist, not a cultural anthropologist, historian, or sociologist), Japanese culture is still very distinct from Chinese culture. I really don’t understand why an author would choose to draw from Chinese cultural elements to write and fill in the background of their story when Japan is literally *right there* and that’s what Naruto’s cultural setting already is. It strikes me as a little in poor taste to do that, almost as if the author is treating the cultures as interchangeable.

I have read fics that do this that are really good fics! And I have read fics that do this that are really bad. I don’t think this is necessarily a mark of the quality of writing or anything. As someone who is not Japanese or Chinese, I don’t think I’m qualified to make any detailed remarks on this phenomenon that I see from time to time, except that it personally makes me a little uncomfortable. I don’t necessarily back out of a fic that does this, but I do start strongly considering it.

16. I do a lot of research for my fics, to the point that it often keeps me from writing, lol. Unfortunately, I usually don’t need as much information as I looked up. It’s a struggle to not bog down my writing with random info dumps. When I was still a graduate student, I often abused my university library access to read scholarly articles on certain topics, usually related to Japanese history or culture or linguistics. Researching for fics could end up being a diversion that lasts for a few hours. Sometimes I’m lucky and it lasts for twenty or thirty minutes. How well I incorporate that information is entirely different. But chances are, a lot of choices made regarding the background of a given fic are very deliberate and are a reference of some kind.

Unless it’s porn :P

Thank you for the ask!