#because clearly if the show's style works for THAT story it MUST work for every story right

[stairset]

I realize this could get me crucified in certain circles but as good as Andor was I really do think its fans can be truly insufferable.

[onyourhyuck]

SHALALA. | L.TY

— Prologue: “Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key.”

— Summary: Where you have to design an outfit for Lee Taeyong a famous fashion model but it leads to you both stripping off your clothes.

— Genre: Smut minors dni. SHALALA is such a bop. Model!taeyong. dom!taeyong. praising praising praising. sneaky link trope. Pussy eating. Overstimulation. Many orgasms. Almost caught (?) Makeout. Female fingering receiving.

— Notes: I love Shalala album so much.

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You’re a designer who’s now working with the most viral and talented fashion model Lee Taeyong.

It is truly an honour you stand in front of the most handsome man in the entire world you’ve laid your eyes upon. You feel almost self conscious about your eyes laying on him. It’s like you thought, you wonder if you even deserve to have such a good moment to watch him. To look at him.

But Taeyong was a friendly guy. He welcomed you. He heard good things about your work and he feels like it fits into the concept he puts out there. The most neo person to live. He bleeds neon green to you. He’s perfect for your work.

You smile. “It’s honestly my greatest accomplishment to have you model for my clothes.” Taeyong smiles back hearing you say this. Every designer tells him this; ‘it’s an honour. I am so glad you allowed me to design this for you.’ But your words seem to have a different meaning and tone to what he usually would hear from other brands.

You spoke with the most raw truth about your work. When Taeyong looks at the clothes you make, they tell a story, they tell a story about every single thought and aspect you make in your head while creating these beautiful things for people to wear.

Taeyong couldn’t wait to see what you will create for him. He can’t wait to see the story you will make for him to see and read. To tell the world and wear it on his sleeves.

“I look forward working with you, Y/n.”

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You’re sat down designing on the paper. The hardest part of being a fashion designer it’s that you have to sketch the idea. You have to brainstorm every part of your muscles to figure something unique, something worth making and trying out. You don’t want Taeyong to wear the most banally shaped and boring designs — because it’s not his concept firstly. Secondly you wish to catch the attention of the public and have people want to scream to wear what Taeyong will wear on that fashion walk.

You want people to look at a certain clothing and think: ‘Wait What! That looks like it’s made by Y/n.’ And you want to get the point across that you want to make your work the most outlandish and outstanding piece of clothing like it is an artwork that must be hung up in a museum somewhere.

This was your goal and you knew the moment you needed a model to do the right job it would have to be no one else but Lee Taeyong.

He has your vibe. He has style and the body you need. And most importantly he has the face and personality that fits right into your branding.

You sketch on the paper many designs various sizes and shapes; a shirt in a shape of a triangle? Pair of trousers with rectangle stitching ends? You did anything you found to be fitting. You let your mind run wild.

“Y/n what colour do you want the first stage outfit to be?” Your co-worker Johnny who worked for you for many of your fashion shows and such. He was another designer too, and without him you’d be a lost cause you thought.

You trail busy looking at the pieces of papers checking out the outfits you have sketched. He was behind you holding many blocks of colours and he saw you were too far looking at the papers than at him. “Hmm…I have a vision… but I can’t seem to see it clearly.” Johnny hears you say that with a sigh.

His eyebrows rise up on his face. “How come? What’s your vision.”

You hum putting the papers down on the desk as your chair turns around. You’re now facing Johnny. “I want the audience to go wild when they see someone like Taeyong; I mean he’s handsome. He has a face that anyone would want. I want his clothes to equal that.” Someone with Taeyong’s face would want to be shown off.

Johnny can understand that your points coming cross may be from your stress and overthinking though you have a point, when he looks at Taeyong he imagines something weird. He wants a weird outfit.

“I think we should make something weird. Something out of the norm-you’d-usually go in the direction of.”

You squint your eyes as you hear this. The sudden wave of realisation puts you into a trapping reality like you were dreaming out of nowhere so you’re now going to be through a lane of ideas trafficking at your fingertips. You turn around quickly, “You’re a genius Johnny…” Johnny had no idea what you were now drawing. But it seems like he made you tick in a different direction now. As per usual his guidance always makes you bring out the best ideas out of yourself.

In a few minutes you’ve drawn the perfect picture of what your vision actually was. Johnny was brought in closer to the desk next to you leaning down with one arm stretching out to hold the table. He looks proud. He looks satisfied and it’s a lot better than what he expected from you. You smirk looking at the design of what you will be making Taeyong wear; on his first stage fashion walk. You can’t wait but you can already imagine that he will look so good, that he will have no choice but to take people’s breathes away and leave them unable to look away from him. As if he was a siren possessing anyone in his reach.

“It’s perfect.” Johnny told you satisfied.

You grin. “He’s going to be the centre of everyone’s attention now.” You we’re sure of it. You were confident and you could already tell in the future it will be like that.

“What are you going to name it?” Johnny now said asking you and you raise an eyebrow humming.

Your eyes sparkle when you click your fingers in the air as if you finally found the perfect title to name this outfit design you have created.

Something weird for something weird to wear.

“I am going to name it,”

“Shalala.”

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Taeyong would be in the fitting rooms awaiting for your arrival. It was early morning and he was surprised to have been called in so early. You had a great chance to be making many finalists decisions for the cat walk designs but it seems like you had made something so special that you told him to come to your studio this early in the morning. He was excited he won’t lie. Taeyong loves your work and he meant it when he told you he loved every single piece you have created from the beginning of your uprising career. There was never a moment where he disliked any piece of your work and he can proudly say this that he will not be left ashamed. He’s bewildered with anticipation.

He has no idea of what you will be showing him today; no idea what you have called it. No idea what it could be. He just knows you made something and he’s about to find out what.

He’s alone in your studio waiting until you come inside with a welcoming smile. The moment you strut forward to give him a greeting hug from you, in which he gladly accepts, the whiff of your sweet fruity perfume attacks his nostrils in the most pleasant way possible. You smell so good he couldn’t resist from wanting to smell more of it but he restrains himself. Surprised by your beautiful smile too, you pull away from him first.

Letting the hug go you beam happily. “It’s so good to see you again Taeyong. Did you get here safe?” You ask mentioning a polite voice. Taeyong was starstruck watching you. He wasn’t expecting you to be this happy to see him. But he was glad you were happy because your smile truly did something in his stomach. Something special.

“Yes I got here safe.” Taeyong smiles gently as he nods. “My managers are getting us coffee. I told them to get an americano for us both. I hope that’s okay?” He wasn’t sure what to give you because he wasn’t sure what you’d like or not so he got the same drink as what he would get hoping you wouldn’t mind.

You were surprised he was buying you coffee anyways; it’s your first time getting offered a cup of coffee from a model.

You smile at him, though your heart skipped a beat by his compassionate gesture. “Ah yes Americano is perfect thank you. You didn’t have to.”

‘Thank god. It would’ve been so awkward if she didn’t drink coffee…’ Taeyong trails to his own thoughts.

You now decide to trail to the fitting areas where the outfit you have created. You spent so many all-nighters making the design of the outfit you created with Johnny; secondly you would like to say it’s the most Neo-thing for someone like Taeyong to wear and at this point you know it’s good. Because Taeyong quite literally would bleed Neon Green if he had to. You know that his favourite colour is green so you cooperated that into the outfit.

The only thing you need to do now is to reveal it to him. Your heart’s chasing miles from what you wanted it to be. You were nervous and panicked. You were confident in the outfit but you care so much about Taeyong’s opinion too. He’s the one who will make it go viral. He’s the key and you’re nothing without his good impression on the outfit.

Taeyong’s eyes widen as he was met with your hands revealing the outfit. It was a simple puffer jacket with puffer pants. It gave this most comfortable down to earth look but at the same time it looks so stylish there wasn’t a single bland thing about it even though it was just a puffer jacket and a pair of pants puffer out in the same material. He feels like this was the most beautiful piece of thing he’s seen made perfectly adjusted to his needs; he won’t be cold wearing this that’s for sure. He will be able to walk around and do all the poses models do on the cat walk. The material is soft and fun. It wasn’t boring which is what he finds amazing about this whole thing. You managed to turn something so simple — into something so unique and weird. Which is what he loves so much.

He knew you wouldn’t disappoint him.

“I am now introducing you to: Shalala.”

The jacket was a bright green; vibrant as heck it could blind everyone’s eyes from countries away. Your designs on the jacket was black squares similar to checkers making it compliment the bright distracting green. The black squares made the jacket somehow more tame. Which is what Taeyong found to be the most important part. Balance.

Your work has the perfect balance that many brands should learn from you. Taeyong sticks by these words. Famous Brands should learn from you.

The pants were wide and flown out. Taeyong saw the way the pants were following the black and green patterns now like it was an illusion. He was impressed, mind blown in a way.

He looks back at you with his mouth wide open. “I love this Y/n. Truthfully it’s nothing else I’ve ever seen before but I love that about your work.” He states with genuine emotions.

You smile. He likes it and that’s what matters to you the most. “I’m glad you like it. Honestly I tried to think about your style in general… you have a unique style and I like that.” You softly add. “I wanted you to wear something you’d want to wear.”

“No one else has done that for me.” Taeyong reveals as his eyes were glued on your face now as if they were unable to let go off you in the sight. You turn around with your eyes widen as you saw how intensely he’s been watching you. Somehow your heart starts to beat even more.

‘Why am I feeling so nervous suddenly?…’

Taeyong comes forward watching you as his hands slowly lift themselves to feel the hem of your shirt attaching on your body so nicely. His fingers wrap themselves around your perfectly shaped waist and his gaze lows down to your kissable lips. Somehow he always knew you were attractive but seeing you more and more. Working with you was a pleasure he enjoyed the most. You’re the first designer to make him feel this way. You catch his breath to become hitch.

You knew you shouldn’t be this close to Taeyong. You know how much this can become a scandal if anyone saw you how close he’s closing into your body the gap between you both shrinks and now you could feel his chest pressing on your body with the same amount of intensity your heart was pumping out of your chest. Your eye could pop out their sockets. It definitely feels like it.

You whisper. “Taeyong…we can’t be doing this.” He knew you were right but, the moment feels too good to stop and he can’t help but want more. More of you. More than anything else he’d ever want before. “Shh…” he tells you slowly.

His deep voice was so powerful yet so low and deep you couldn’t help but think perhaps you’re addicted to hearing his deep voice speaking like this to you. And now you don’t want him to stop when he was looking at you with so much emotion.

“Lay low lay low lay low, baby, keep it low-key…”

Your lips crash into his passionately moving in each others shapes. The kiss leaves you feeling more and more detached from reality than before and you never thought getting kissed by the famous Lee Taeyong would make your skin crawl with so many compliments towards him. He was not only so handsome and talented — but he can kiss so good. You never expected to have been able to see this for yourself. To have yourself experiencing such pleasure given to you by Taeyong. The man drags you on top of a desk. The outfit you created was put on the side out of your minds.

What was important now to him was you getting pinned by his tongue in your mouth dominating yours with so much ease it was like an easy game for him. You weren’t sure if this was reality. Or if this was virtuality.

Hearing your moans escaping out when Taeyong pulls apart from your ruby red lips that he could kiss on and on without a singular boredom irking him. Now your neck was begging to be kissed, held, loved and marked by him so much he couldn’t help but launch down to your soft skin. Biting on it carefully leaving beautiful marks behold like you were rewarded.

You shift on the table with your thighs trembling. The way your neck was your most sensitive part; Taeyong was in awe at the effects it gave you.

It made your tremble already and he hasn’t even gotten to the part where he fucks you.

Your eyes were dilated so much. Taeyong could stare at your pupils for hours on end. The way your Iris pupils reflect the light so beautifully proved that you’re light itself.

“Oh god… Taeyong…” you groan when your shirt was pulled off by the model stripping you clean. You couldn’t help but join in pulling his expensive branded clothes. Though you were careful not to rip it. You both succeeded in getting yourselves naked in their arms as Taeyong’s mouth lap on your breasts. Hands condoling your chest with a light squeeze there and then.

The tongue playing by your nipples finding your head hanging back as your shoulders clench up tensing together. Your stomach pressing inwards at your pelvis because of how good it feels to have his warm saliva paint your breasts with it. Like he was a painter and you were his one true canvas masterpiece.

“You like that, Y/n?” Taeyong murmurs against your beautiful breasts he finds them to be the most attractive part of you but he would lie if you weren’t completely attractive head to toe. Because you are. You’re someone who has it all.

And he wants all of you. He strives to be better for you all along.

You nod softly in his response unable to find your words to answer him back but nonetheless he didn’t mind. He prepares you by stretching your wet folds with his two fingertips. You gasp when you feel him watching you, no, he was staring at you as your clenching round his two fingers tightly. Each meaningful movement as stretching you so far you could feel your tongue coming out with your moans. He loves watching you become a mess, from such simple touches, he loves the effect you give out.

You muffle your moans with your palm as Taeyong stops pulling away he leans down to give a soft kitten lick on your clit that makes your hand slide off your face. It was nearly impossible to be quiet when you were getting devoured head on by Taeyong. His hands stretching out your thighs. You feel them greatly and sharply pushing you down and down which only makes your pleasure stronger than your muscles could take.

You couldn’t even tell where you were anymore because you were so lost in the moment feeling your high coming closer that both you and Taeyong couldn’t hear the front door knocking. The voices behind the door belong to the managers, indicating they came back with the coffee they had been waiting to get for the two of you — Taeyong doesn’t stop eating you out as if he was starved unable to get any self control back.

So now you’re on the desk with your thighs spread wide over getting yourself eaten out by your model. And you try not to make any loud sounds that can get you two caught. Somehow his gaze was watching you as the managers call out your name on the other side of the door, while they keep knocking.

“Miss Y/n? May we come in?” The manager asked finding the silence quite hard to ignore.

You juggle your own moans and your voice trying to separate them. You deeply breathe out and your voice is very muffled and strained by your lacking sinful thoughts of how good Taeyong’s mouth on your wet soaking pussy is. “N-no! Me and Taeyong are doing something— v-very important right now…!”

The managers stood there quiet reacting to your response. Maybe they should leave you two alone to discuss your work process?

The snapping motion of your stomach finally lets go and your pussy juice spews down from your aching wet hole into Taeyong’s mouth who didn’t waste a single drop. He darkly muffled. “That’s it… such a good girl…” he whispers keenly against your folds and you shudder at how hot he absolutely sounds. It’s so difficult to not be moaning out his name; heck you’d chant it not moan it loudly. You’d be chanting it as if it was a holy hymn meant to be sang to the world how good he ate you out.

You whimper. “G-gosh I can’t do this anymore Tae…” You say as your fingers fiddle in his hair and he murmurs softly kissing your overstimulated pussy humming. “Just a little bit more hm?”

You can’t say no when he’s so persuasive with the way his voice has his power over you. Taeyong knew you cannot reject him when he’s having so much fun controlling you right now.

“Miss Y/n but the coffee is getting cold? Will you and Taeyong be okay with that?” The managers come back asking as if they were worried more about the coffee meanwhile Taeyong was busy trying to destroy you from inside and out.

He’s loving this fucked out version of you so much, it’s impossible not to fall in love with you.

You wanted to tell the managers to already go away and do something with their life than to disrupt your time together, but then again, deep inside the idea of getting caught makes this even more thrill seeking to you in your opinion.

You muffle your groans out. “T-that’s fine— leave the coffee outside the door…!”

Taeyong smirks as he finally sees you getting closer to your second orgasm and this time you didn’t bother to hold back you simply let it run over you taking your first hand pushing it down to his head grinding his face on it. He loves it when you start to fidget with yourself and force yourself on his face — you love face fucking him when your orgasm was reaching its peak washing you both down with your juices spilling down your thighs and on the desk now. Your moans was incredibly strong that Taeyong had to reach up putting his hand on your mouth covered by your own lubricant from your orgasm, so your moans don’t come out.

Your eyes roll back slightly as you feel your orgasm washing away and soon Taeyong let’s your mouth become free from his mouth as he deeply kisses you. You feel your stomach panting in and out.

He whispers leaning down. “I like the name by the way.”

You raise your eyes up at him dazed and confused. “What name?”

He smirks. “Shalala.” Taeyong’s eyes never leave yours because he finds them to be the prettiest little orbs of life he ever dreamed to see. “I like it, Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile in response, overwhelmed with pride and joy to know he likes it.

“I am glad…”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[ask-the-prose]

The Gun In This Guide Does Not Go Off

Hi yall, sorry for the late post this week! I'm running this blog by myself, so if you are interested in helping mod this blog or write guides, please fill out the mod form linked in the pinned post! If you have anything you want to see covered or specific questions answered, please don't hesitate to send an ask! Anon is on.

Onto the guide!

This week I want to talk about foreshadowing, what it is, why incorporate it, and how!

What is foreshadowing?

Foreshadowing is an event, line, dialogue, or other element of a story that alludes to or predicts a future event. Foreshadowing can be overt or covert, and it can appear in many different elements depending on your writing style, story needs, or reader interest.

Overt or concrete foreshadowing is directly and clearly stating a prediction or allusion to an event in the future. This can be a line of dialogue ("Winter is coming" from Game of Thrones or the musical number "Be Prepared" in The Lion King), an event or image (Korra's anxiety dreams about losing her bending in season one of Legend of Korra), even the title of the work can be foreshadowing (The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allen Poe).

Covert foreshadowing is a little more subtle. An example includes bad weather in Great Expectations to allude to Pip's future angst. Symbols, setting, and throwaway comments can be utilized as covert foreshadowing as well.

Why would I want to spoil the twist?

Foreshadowing doesn't necessarily mean spoiling the twist or ending of your story. However, spoilers can be utilized to your advantage if you do so purposefully (John Dies at the End started out as a web novel serial. In every update, readers tuned in to see if this was the chapter in which John dies, as spoiled by the title). The key word here is "purposefully." Foreshadowing is not accidental, and it can do a lot of heavy lifting with the emotions and feelings you want your reader to experience while reading.

Your reader is smart and will pick up the hints you lay down. You can use this to your advantage to create tension, dread, excitement, or simply a desire to discover what happens next.

How do I incorporate foreshadowing?

Foreshadowing usually happens at the beginning of the story. If you're a pantser like I am, foreshadowing may be difficult to incorporate in your first draft when you don't know where it's heading. That's okay! Foreshadowing can be added in later drafts when you know what exactly happens in the story.

For the plotters out there, consider foreshadowing during your outlining. When you know what happens next, how do you hint at those events early on? There are so many different ways to incorporate foreshadowing into your story. Your imagination really is the limit.

A few notes about what foreshadowing is NOT

Foreshadowing is not a flashforward. A flashforward is a moment in the story in which the narration moves forward in time. The narrative shows the reader explicitly what will happen in the future by depicting those events. Foreshadowing is an allusion or hint at events but not the depiction of those events as they happen.

Foreshadowing is not Chekhov’s Gun. Chekhov’s Gun is a method employed by storytellers as a rule. Anton Chekhov said in his famous quote that if a gun is described hanging on the wall in chapter one, it must go off in chapter two or three. This is to say, every element in a story is there for a reason. The gun is only described because the gun will be used later. If the gun does not go off, it should not be mentioned in the narrative.

The difference between Chekhov’s Gun and foreshadowing is that foreshadowing is an element of the story, whereas Chekhov’s Gun is about the storytelling process. Chekhov’s Gun is not a real rule, so much as a suggestion that if you are to create tension in the story, it must pay off. Foreshadowing is the act of creating tension.

Foreshadowing is not a red herring. Building off of Chekhov’s Gun, if the gun is described but never goes off, following Chekhov’s rule would indicate the gun is a red herring. A red herring is a hint or allusion to something that never comes to fruition, such as describing a gun to create tension that it will fire and then never firing it.

Conclusion

Foreshadowing is an interesting and, frankly, fun storytelling element to incorporate into your writing. Readers often love rereading books to see all the hints they missed at the beginning! That’s foreshadowing.

Foreshadowing can exist in many methods and elements, and it is up to you how you want to approach foreshadowing. Keep in mind how you want to utilize tension in your story, and you’ll find the foreshadowing falls into place to create an interesting and engaging story your readers will love and love again.

– Indy

** Edit: 6/8/23 fixed an error regarding one of the examples in the first section.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 70 – American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis

I’m honestly not sure I ever would have gotten around to reading this on my own, but ended up buying it through the ‘blind date with a book’ thing a bookstore in New York was doing when I was visiting (incredible gimmick, for the record). The fact that it then took me a solid three months to actually finish probably tells you something about how genuinely difficult a read I found it. Not in the sense of being bad, but just legitimately difficult to stomach at points. Overall I’d call it a real triumph of literature.

Not that anyone doesn’t already know, but; the book is spent inside the head of Patrick Bateman, high-flying wall street trader and Harvard blueblood at the close of the Reagan era. Also a serial killer. The story is told as a series of more or less disconnected vignettes, jumping from dinner conversations at one exclusive bar or club or another to the brutal torture and murder of a sex worker to several pages of incredibly vapid pontification on Nina Simone’s discography. The story vaguely tracks Bateman growing ever-more alienated and out of control as the year goes on, but there’s very much not any real single narrative or cathartic climax here. - most stuff just happens (stuff that’s either incredibly tedious or utterly nauseating by turns but still just, stuff).

So yeah this is an intensely literary work (obviously), a word I’m here using to mean one that is as much about the form and style of the writing as about the actual events portrayed. Bateman is a monster, but more than that he’s just an utterly boring and tedious husk of a man, traits which are exaggerated to the point of being fascinating– if you told this story in conventional third person narration without all the weird asides, it would be a) like half as long and b) totally worthless. The tonal whiplash of going from an incredibly visceral depiction of Bateman cutting out the eyes of a homeless man to six (utterly insipid) pages on the merits of The Doors is the selling point here (well actually I think Ellis goes back to that specific well probably one time too many, but in general I mean).

Bateman is a tedious, unstable monster, but as far as the book has an obvious thesis it’s that he differs from the rest of his social milieu only in degree. A symptom of a fundamentally rotten society, not a heroic devil among sheep. The book’s climax, such as it is, involved Bateman getting into a drug-fueled gunfight with the NYPD, shooting multiple people in the middle of the street, and then stumbling home and leaving a rambling confession to every crime on his lawyer’s answering machine – but despite very clearly wanting and trying to get caught and face some sort of consequence or justice, people just refuse to believe that someone like him is capable of anything like that. (It’s not, it must be said, an especially subtle book).

There is, as far as I can recall, not a single character who gets enough screentime to give an idea of their personality who I’d call likeable. Sympathetic, sure, but that’s mostly because it’s pretty much impossible not to sympathize with someone getting horrifically tortured and torn apart (at one point a starving rat is involved). The upper crust of New York yuppie-dom is portrayed as shallow and vapid, casually bigoted towards quite literally everyone who isn’t identical to them, status-obsessed to the point of only being able to understand the world as a collection of markers of class and coolness, and totally incapable of real human connection. Bateman is a monster not because of any freak abnormality, but just because he takes all of that a few steps further than his coworkers.

The book is totally serious and straight-faced in its presentation, and absolutely never acknowledges any of the running gags that are kept up through it. Which shows impressive restraint, and also means that none of them exactly have a payoff or a punchline – it’s just a feature of the world that all the expensive meals at trendy restaurants everyone competes for tables at sound disgusting when you think about them for a moment, or that the whole class of wall street trader guy are so entirely interchangeable that ostensible close friends and coworkers constantly mistake each other for other traders and no one particularly cares. Or – and I’m taking this on faith because fuck knows I’ve got no idea what any of the brands people are wearing are – that the ruinously expensive outfits everyone spends so very much time and money on for every engagement all clash comically if you actually looked up what the different pieces looked like. The book’s in no way really a comedy, so the jokes sit a bit oddly, but they’re still overall pretty funny, at least to me.

I like to think I have something of a strong stomach for unpleasant material in books, but this was the first work of fiction that I had genuine trouble reading for content reasons in I can’t even remember. I’m not sure it’s exactly right to call the violence pornographic in a general sense, but as far as American Psycho goes the register and tone Bateman uses to describe fucking a woman and torturing her to death are basically identical (and told in similarly explicit detail), and all of Bateman’s sexual fantasies are more or less explicitly just porn scenes he wants to recreate, so. Regardless, the result’s pretty alienating in both cases – his internal monologue never really feels anything but detached and almost bored as he relays what he does, sound exactly as vapid and alienated as when he is carefully listing the exact brands and designers every person he ever interacts with is wearing at all times, or arguing over dinner reservations for hours on end with his friends and lovers (though both those terms probably deserve heavy airquotes around them). He legitimately sounds considerably more engaged when talking about arguing over sartorial etiquette. It all adds up to a really strong alienating effect.

Anyways, speaking of sex and violence – perhaps because my main exposure to the story before this was tumblr making memes out of scenes from the movie, but I was pretty shocked by just how explicitly awful Patrick is ‘on screen’. The horrible murder, sure, but also just the casual and frequent use of racist and homophobic slurs, the pathological misogyny, the total breakdown he has at the idea of a gay man being attracted to him and thinking he might reciprocate – all of these are entirely in character for an asshole Wall Street ‘80s Guy even if he wasn’t a serial killer, but it’s still oddly shocking at first to see it so thoroughly represented on the page. It makes how comparatively soft-pedaled the bigotry and just, awfulness, of villains in a lot of more modern books stand out a lot more, I suppose? I have read a lot of books that are in some sense About queerness and/or racism in the last year, and no one in any of them holds a candle to good old Patrick Bateman.

Part of that is just the book being so intensely of its time, I suppose. The New York of this book is very much one of the late ‘80s, incredible wealth living side by side with social rot and decay, crippling poverty everywhere and a society that has to a great degree just stopped caring. Absolutely none of which Bateman or any of his peers care one bit about, of course – they’re too busy showing off the latest walkmans and record players, going to the newest clubs, and just generally enjoying all the fruits of Reagan’s America. Recent history has made the fact that Bateman’s personal idol is Donald Trump almost too on the nose to be interesting, but in 1991 I’m sure it was a bit more subtle in how telling it was.

Anyway, yeah, horrifying and exhausting read, triumph of literature, my god did Easton Ellis hate America (this is a compliment). Now time to go watch the movie!

[itsmaferart]

SPY x FAMILY x CHAIR Vol 10 - 11- 12

Continuing with this series of analysis of the covers:

SxF . Vol 10 - Redacted

Unlike all the covers so far, cover 10 is the only one that does not show us a chair, but instead introduces us to [Redacted]. So we can give a little deeper analysis.

We can highlight that behind [Redacted] we can clearly see the rubble of a house of which there is absolutely nothing left, a soldier's helmet with scratches and cracks, the toy gun and a radio that apparently announced the war and the look of a child who has lost all happiness in his life and now must learn to survive with no one to take care of him.

I think it goes without saying that this is the saddest cover of the whole collection so far. But we can talk about the influence of [Redacted] on the current story.

In previous reviews I have talked about how [Redacted] is the basis for the existence of Twilight, the great spy of Westalis, the metaphorical death of this child who has lost his parents and his friends due to the conflicts of his country, and who later, blinded by hatred, would want to destroy his apparent enemies, to finally learn the hard lesson from his father of always longing for peace above all else.

From my perspective the tragedy of [Redacted] is the basis of Twilight, it's why the spy fighting for peace exists, but more importantly, it's what allows Twilight to not be entirely a living weapon serving a specific side. And while Twilight you made remembering her past "Self" is weakness, it is also who reminds her of what is truly important.

And it is [Redacted] who gives authenticity to Loid Forger, who reminds him that in the past he could experience happiness, his more vulnerable and sweet side, a child who could easily cry and wished to be in his mother's arms every night. Someone who just wished for a little love. Redacted] may never come back, but it is because of him that Twilight and Loid Forger are genuine and real.

This is a good time to dry your tears! 😭 

SxF . Vol 11 - Emile and Ewen - Hill House Chair

The Hill House Chair was designed by Scottish architect and designer Charles Rennie Mackintosh in 1902 for the Hill House residence in Helensburgh, Scotland. The design has a strong Japanese influence, which Mackintosh incorporated into his work after being exposed to Japanese aesthetics during the Glasgow International Art Exhibition.

The chair is in Mackintosh's "Glasgow Style", which is characterized by straight, simple lines and shapes. The chair, along with the rest of the furniture, was designed to integrate with the architecture and décor of the building, resulting in a harmonious and balanced ensemble.

Both the Willow chair and Hill House Chair are designs by Mackintosh, which is characterized by simple lines, geometric shapes and a modernist sensibility that gives them a unique and recognizable look. In terms of style and architectural context, the chairs have important differences in terms of form and functionality. The Willow Chair is a low chair with a curved back and woven seat, while the Hill House Chair is a taller, slimmer chair with a rectangular back and upholstered seat.

Damian-sama!!

There are two very interesting details that I could highlight and the language of the objects with respect to the chair, and the characters. Unlike Damian, the proportion of the chairs with respect to both children is much more harmonious unlike Damian whose chair stands out easily and its size is huge with respect to his size, indicating that while Damian projects greatness, Emile and Ewen are the complementation, both stand out, but balance each other at the same time, and do not overshadow Damian-Sama!

It is very interesting, given that the chair selection reflects this bond of friends/followers. While the chairs have different contexts, while Willow Chiar's has a primary function, the Hill House has the function of complementing the decor. Pointing out how the personalities of Emile and Ewen is to complement Damian.

Like Becky, the reflection of each other's personality is evident, they are notorious and not hidden. While Ewen has a passion for space, astronauts and the stars; Emile is a lover of sweets and all kinds of junk food. However, in the middle of both of them there is an obvious bond for explorer adventures. Having his picture with Damian in the center, because their bond as friends is very genuine!

SxF . Vol 12 - Sylvia Sherwood - Diamond Chair

The Diamond Chair, also known as the Bertoia Chair, was created by sculptor and designer Harry Bertoia in 1952. It was originally designed for Knoll International and has become a symbol of 20th century industrial and avant-garde design.

Bertoia designed the chair because of his desire to explore new forms and techniques of furniture making. Inspiration came from his interest in experimenting with steel wires, which allowed him to create light and elegant structures.

The motive was to achieve a perfect combination of form and comfort, which would be attractive but also ergonomic and comfortable to use. The chair's curved steel wire frame allows for breathability and provides flexible support, adapting to the user's body. Its design is minimalist and timeless, as well as its versatility and ability to adapt to a variety of environments.

"Stop waiting for easy answers to fall into your lap, Rookie. Use that head of yours to find them for yourself"

Both Fullmetal Lady and Diamond Chair could be described as elegant, sophisticated and modern. In addition, the attention to detail and quality workmanship reflect a high-end personality and refinement that projects the experience Handler has in executing its work. At the same time, its comfort and ergonomics demonstrate a concern for the well-being and experience of the user, which makes it friendly and welcoming, one of the most human characteristics of Sylvia who, although she is a relentless woman, also knows how to relate to her humanity, and reminds her little spies that having a soft spot is part of them.

While the folders and surely confidential papers are shuffled and exposed, reminiscent of Handler's main role, we can see subtly hidden the family photograph that is pierced by the chair leg reflecting the rupture caused by the war of losing her husband and young daughter. For no matter the passage of time, it will always be something that will accompany her.

.

You can read the previous part here

[magicxc]

Toxic Traits

Pairings: Survey Corps x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1280

Warnings: none

A/N: I love a lil toxicity lol. This is the variety I was talking about earlier. From the mundane to the sexy and even the toxic. Everyone has their flaws, now let's explore what I think theirs is in a relationship. Tell me which trait you think matches their character the best. 

Its as the name suggests - toxic. No physical abuse or sexual deviance of the sort, but do proceed with caution or not at all if toxic-type themes aren’t your cup of tea.

Lastly, do note that I have a habit of modernizing these characters while keeping their stories true at its core lol. So if you see me mention trauma from titans and a range rover in the same sentence, just mind ya business.

Headcannons Masterlist

Eren - Jealous

You never knew what kind of day you were gonna get with Eren. Sometimes it’d be the best day ever and other times it’d be the worst. You make eye contact with some random man for a second too long? Clearly you want him. You’re paying for something and the hand of the cashier slides against yours during the transaction? Thats basically cheating because now you’ve hand fucked a stranger. You give a full frontal hug and not the, more appropriate, side hug to one of your male friends? You two must be fucking each other. As intense as Eren can be, you found that the pendulum swung both ways. He’d get down on his knees and worship the rain for nourishing the grass that you walked on should you ask for it, so it was hard to walk away when he got into his little fits. It was like a see-saw of emotions being in this relationship, the highs feeling ethereal and the lows leaving you distraught. You often wondered why you allowed Eren to get away with such behavior.

Levi - Possessive

It was like a double edged sword with this man. He was all for showing you off until someone's eyes wandered just a little too long, now he’s shoving his tongue to the deepest parts of your throat until they get the message. One time Connie complimented the shirt you were wearing which happened to be a low cut and exposed your chest; and Levi’s immediate response was to litter your skin in love bites. Anything to get the message across and let others know that you were a claimed woman. Cause Levi isn’t too much for the long talking and he would hate to see push come to shove for whichever poor bastard couldn't get the message. While you adored how much he loved you, being with him definitely got a little exhausting from time to time.

Erwin - Controlling

He’s a commander so he’s used to people following his orders without question. And while he isn’t always unreasonable, Erwin does expect you to take into consideration his every suggestion, and by consideration, he means do it. It can be as simple as styling your hair, cooking a certain meal, or saving your more risqué outfits for when he accompanies you. Though he phrases his demands politely you can't help but feel a little confused after every encounter; wondering how he’d talk you down on something you were so headstrong about. Thankfully he didn't ask for such outrageous requests, and you’ve since learned not to question it; for the last time you found yourself with a sore ass.

Connie - Petty/Blackmail 

Slippery slope this one. Pissed him off? Well now he’s taking the things you didnt realise were gone until you needed them. Shoelaces out of all the shoes, backs to your earrings, lightbulbs from each room. Not in the mood for sex? He may as well go get it elsewhere. You finally build up the courage to walk away from him. Well now your boss is about to find out exactly what that mouth do. Connie himself is unsure if he’d ever follow through with his more extreme threats since it always works out in the end. I guess it’s really only one way to find out and thankfully you’ve never been stupid enough to try it.

Jean - Obsessive

Jean doesn’t have a whole lotta chances at true love lowkey. First real crush paid him dust. His bestie died during training. And his other bestie died during a mission. Considering he’s one of the few people with the least traumatic childhood, I think he loses his shit at the idea of letting love slip away, because everyone somehow always ends up leaving him. Therefore he needs to know your every move, your daily routines, hours spent on a typical girls night out, mileage it takes to make sure that you’re going exactly where you said you were. You couldn’t sneeze without running it past Jean first. But life sure is easier now that he’s got a tracker on both your phone and car. It would raise the tension if you were to find out, he thinks, but what could you do about it really? 

Onyankopon - Arrogance. 

Mans can literally never be wrong and it’s super frustrating. It's like talking to a brick wall. He’s entertaining some girl who’s clearly flirting with him and suddenly you don’t know the meaning of friendship. You wanted pasta for dinner? Well he’s cooking soup because it’s heartier. You’re in the middle of an argument yet he’s only focusing on the minor details that are wrong in the story as opposed to the bigger picture overall. But it’s okay, cause he doesn’t mind working through these little hiccups with you. After all, where else would you go? Who else would love on you the way he does? Put up with your constant nagging? Only he would.

Reiner - Yandere

Not only was he never supposed to find love, but the idea of him finally finding it and almost losing it? Let's just say it doesn’t end too well for your dating prospects; and after a while Reiner makes it clear that it can end just as bad for you. Reiner is a sweetie pie and a devout lover when things are going great. But sometimes he gets to be a bit overbearing, and what was supposed to be a break between the both of you turned into him breaking some bones. The same ones that your friend dared try to comfort you with. Since then, the relationship has been as steady as it can be and you’ve been getting nothing but queen treatment, but at what cost?!

Armin - Dishonesty/Isolation Not a trait that raises too many red flags, until it does. Armin loves being around you. He considers you his best friend and has no qualms about you both spending literally 24/7 wrapped in each other’s arms. Though your friends were happy for you guys at first, it did raise a few eyebrows down the line. You both had gone from sharing similar interests to sharing an identical lifestyle. The same job, the same apartment, and the same friends all seemed to merge into one. But how could Armin help it when you were…well you. So what if a few phone calls from your homegirls to hang out went ignored or a few check in text messages from your family got deleted? Armin would claim to never know, see, or hear such a thing; and it’s usually the story he stuck to. But should you ever question him further, he’d find a way to put your mouth to better use, dick stuffed so far back until you forgot what had you so upset with him in the first place.

Floch - Manipulation 

Any time you get mad at him, he becomes the king of gaslightery. Floch went all day without sending so much as a text message? Well he worked a double to put food on the table. Valentine's day passed and he didn't get you any flowers? He doesn’t need a holiday to show you how much he loves you. You want to wait a while before tying the knot? Now you're using him for all he's got and wasting his time. Very rarely did Floch get nasty in his insults or the manner in which he manipulated you. In fact, they were always followed by a soft voice, gentle touches, and a redeeming act. So how could you stay mad at him when he was truly trying his best to build a great lifestyle for you both. 

[drdemonprince]

I read Anna Biller's (director, writer, set designer, and basically everything-er of The Love Witch) new novel Bluebeard's Castle. And I really found it to be quite the addictive and enchanting read, though all of the criticisms of the book that you'll see on Goodreads and Amazon are completely legitimate.

The book very much does read like a screenplay -- there are long descriptions of interior design and costumes, sometimes positioned in the middle of a scene in ways that break up the emotional momentum, to a hilarious effect. For example, in one sequence the protagonist is considering a gruesome vision of suicide, and then looks in the mirror to admire her hobble skirt and reflect that she's looking very sexy.

Some of The Love Witch's less charitable viewers didn't understand the way Biller's work sweeps from the grand and romantic to the self-involved and frivolous, but it's clearly intentional, and it works on the page for me just as well as it did on the screen. You just have to have the irreverent, glamorous toxic girl sensibility for it. If you love the way Lana Del Rey mixes the high and low brows, the tragic with the prosaic, you'll lap it up here too.

In some cases, Biller's descriptions do feel like placeholders, or are so generically written that it would make perfect sense in a script (because there is an entire team working on the film that can bring a "sexy" dress or a "lovely" piece of furniture to life), but which falls flat here. Because I know Biller's aesthetic style so well, when she tells me that room is sumptuous or well-appointed, I can picture precisely what she means, and most of the time she is so specific with her descriptions of outfits and accessories that you can easily conjure what she's going for. At some random moments, though, things are underwritten and demand that you as the reader fill in the details she normally provides.

Bluebeard's Castle is the story of a contemporary romance novelist and converted Catholic virgin, Judith, who falls under the seductive spell of an aloof, gruff, emotionally volatile Baron's-son, Gavin, who sweeps her off her feet following a fated encounter at a wedding. After a whirlwind romance and a hasty wedding, Biller's protagonist moves into a remodeled castle with her brooding lover, and the cracks in his shining armor begin to show. The charm of the love interest is something of an informed attribute; you have to believe the narrator that he is handsome and dracula-like (or believe that she believes it) in order to allow the story to move along. Since this is a tragedy rather than a romance novel, I think that buy-in is relatively easy to provide. The sex scenes are largely left to the margins as well; this book isn't meant to titilate but rather pull you into Judith's rich, sad, delusional inner world.

Some of the most positive reviews of Bluebeard's Castle describe this as a novel about how and why women find themselves entrapped within abusive relationships. As someone who has been in abusive relationships, I think this truly is where Biller's writing excels -- and she truly gets what it's like to become romantically and sexually addicted to someone who is bad for you to a degree that is almost embarrassing to see oneself reflected in. She truly gets it -- the way you excuse small violations, blot out any consideration of your own consent, justify unexpected outbursts from your partner and then take steps to prevent them, the way you must romanticize every single tender moment, rewrite the gradual conditioning of your own behavior as yourself becoming a canny, subtle manipulator of the situation, and color in between the lines of a truly unfulfilling existence with grand narratives and self-serving lies.

It's not a pretty portrait -- Bluebeard's Judith has a fanciful, inconsistent mind, constantly swapping between admitting to herself that her husband has mistreated her, and seeking refuge in religion, fantasy, alcohol, sex, and self-negation in order to convince herself that such abuses did not really happen, or don't really matter. She also uses other people -- leaning on her sister and a former romantic interest, the respectful, reliable doctor Tony -- extracting as much attention and support from them as she possibly can when she and Gavin are in a rough patch, then abandoning them entirely the moment he returns to her. I think a reader who hasn't been in an extended abusive relationship will probably find Judith infuriating and unsympathetic. But as someone who has done and been all of these things, I feel incredibly exposed by Biller's narrative, in a bracing way. It's like a shot of cold water to the face.

Many people will justifiably write this book off as melodramatic and arch, but I think it perfectly nails the alluring drama of being wrapped up within a terrible relationship dynamic. When you're being abused and you deeply love your abuser, you are absolutely fascinated by their unpredictable emotions and your own love -- you think constantly about how you might elicit the treatment from them that your heart longs for, you're reading into their every gesture and expression all the time, and you're inventing satisfying explanations for your situation in your head all the time. It's an isolated, deluded life, but it's pleasurably intense too sometimes, and those of us who fall prey to it often have some deeper longing for connection and passion that makes us easier to prey on. Biller really understands that.

If you adored The Love Witch, you'll probably have a lot of patience for this book's flaws and feel appropriately targeted by its strengths. Sad girls, Virgin Suicides fans, BPD baddies, Jane Eyre lovers, grown up former Twilight readers, and all kinds of other pitiful glamorous freaks will enjoy it.

[lemonmelonboy]

Oblivious

Taylor x Reader

TW: None

Content: GN!Reader, Movie Mentioned: Hush 2016, Netflix

Word Count: 925

Summary: What if Taylor did try confessing just before you went into Gallagher Mansion and it flew over your head?

18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!

 I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Taylor meet bright and early as usual, hanging out before both of your 10 am classes had become a delightful ritual. Typically you would spend 2 hours in a private study room, that you would reserve at the beginning of each week. 

“Hey bud!” Taylor calls as he comes into the private study room you had reserved in the library. He slips into the chair across from you at the small table. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.” He said with a soft apologetic smile. You could see the sleep in his eyes still, he must have missed his alarm again and came straight here after waking up. 

You smile kindly back, “No- it’s ok, I only just got settled a couple minutes before you got in”. You notice a soft pink spread across Taylors' cheeks before he nods and looks away. He starts pulling out his laptop and notebooks so that the pair of you can start working quietly. 

Most mornings were spent like this, a quiet individual study together. It was always a comfortable silence and rarely accompanied by discussions unless one of you had a test to study for that day. The only time the pair of you actively spoke about anything most days was around 30 minutes before you two would have to leave to class. You would pack away your things and just chat and banter about your recent favorite shows or games. A lot of times Taylor would ramble about a new horror story he heard or scary movie trailer he saw. 

And so the pair of you quietly study together, occasionally casting soft looks to each other, Taylor getting clearly flustered every time you caught him looking over at you. The hour and a half of studying passes quickly and you sigh softly to break the silence and start to put your things away. Taylor perks up when he sees you packing and quickly follows suit. 

“So, what’s been on your thoughts today? Found a new version of the Banshee story?” you asked playfully as a teasing smile lingers on your face.

“N-no..” he says softly, as he procrastinates replying while he puts his notebooks away. “I  uh, actually found a movie you might like?” He said awkwardly. “It's uh- a story about a deaf and mute woman who’s being attacked by a serial killer in her home?” 

“Oh! Yeah, I heard about that one!! I think it looks so cool!” You say excitedly, slashers and thrillers were much more your style compared to the more paranormal-based horrors that Taylor enjoyed. Taylor smiles almost proudly.

“Well- I figured- I’d take you to see it when it comes out? I thought it’d be really cool to see it with someone really amazing like you…” He says nervously with pink cheeks. And as he continues it sounds almost like the words are tumbling out of his mouth before he is prepared to announce them. “B-because you know! I get really- scared- by thrillers and uh- you love them and- you make me-” he stops himself, fiddling with his fingers and taking a small calming breath. “You make me feel safe-..” he mumbles out with a shy smile.

You look him over with an excited grin “Don’t worry! I’ll protect you from any crazy killer who’d come after you!” You give a fake and playful determined and brave look, pounding your chest with your fist. And Taylor just looks at you with a deep blush on his face, the silence between you hangs almost heavy. But soon Taylor gives a soft amused chuckle, covering his mouth as he begins to cackle, covering his mouth with his hands. You join him quickly, dissolving into wheezing laughing fits while you both try not to be too loud.

“Ye-yeah! Of course, you would.” He says a sweet and overjoyed smile on his face. “So you’ll come with me to the movie?” He asks with a small tilt of his head. 

“Yes of course!” You say gleefully “If you’re paying~” You tease with a grin.

“Ough!” he claps his hands over his heart “You only want me for my money!?” he joked back in a heartbroken voice. “And here I thought you just lo-liked me for me!” he said shyly as he corrected himself. 

“Maybe it's both~” You tease again with a gentle laugh. Taylor moves to prop his head up on the table with his hand. You mimic him and give an exaggerated sigh, looking Taylor in the eye as you do. You stare at him for a few minutes, and noticing him getting a bit fidgety makes you smile bigger which makes him look away covering his mouth with his hand. Your gaze follows his, and the pair of you just watch the movement in the library through the window of the study room.  You both sit comfortably in the silence for a bit before you shift with a sigh to check the time. 

“We should get going to class- we’re going to be late.” You say as you stand and pick up your bag. Taylor nods and follows suit. “You don’t have another test until next week right?” you ask him as the pair of you leave the room, locking the door behind you. You and Taylor continue your small talk as you walk and soon split ways to your separate classes. You continue the day as normal, but Taylor has trouble focusing in his classes as he runs through just how much he embarrassed himself in front of you.

[layingeggs]

Uh oh Dragon Ball negativity I'm going to be negative about Dragon Ball.

It's crazy how, as Akira Toriyama's health and ability to draw declined in his life, the artists who admired him most and followed in his footsteps, never bother learning to emulate his earlier stronger work and are content only to emulate his later weaker work instead.

You look at Dragon Ball Super and Dragon Ball Daima. Like, yeh, Toriyama can't draw anymore. And a lot of these new characters, have a lot more shortcuts taken in their character design and are a lot more friendly to draw for an old person with arthritis and memory problems who has to look it up on the wiki to remember exactly what the character looks like.

And like, I sympathise for Toriyama. But he's not the lead artist for Dragon Ball anymore? He hasn't been for a long time?

Dragon Ball Super was, I think, actually made by the guy who made the old infamous Dragon Ball doujins where Goku went Super Saiyan 7 and had long white hair and was cast in godly energy?

Someone who's been drawing Dragon Ball for that long, and has had that long to percolate story concepts, is now in charge of the show, and has no desire to bring the art direction back to the standard of quality of old school Dragon Ball, is simply happy forever to make something that feels like a cheap but fun doujin.

It's just sad isn't it?

And I especially think of this any time I see Bulma.

Bulma is a huge character for this. Every time I see DBS or DBD Bulma, I'm always thinking, wow! She used to be so pretty! What happened to her?

And every time I see Dragon Ball Bulma, or early DBZ Bulma, I think, wow! She's so pretty! I'm actually surprised that Toriyama used to be able to draw pretty girls in a way that you'd expect to see in shoujo manga!

I mean, let's be honest. Dragon Ball is pretty misogynistic. I love Dragon Ball, but it's hugely misogynistic.

But Toriyama clearly studied the contemporary art trends for how to depict a cute girl in a stylish feminine way. He must have been reading shoujo manga. I would be shocked if he wasn't. Or at least doing what the shoujo artists were doing, watching loads of Chinese films and basing his manga girls off of beautiful Chinese celebrities and actresses.

And it's not just Bulma, you can't just say oh well it's because Bulma's old now in the fiction. Because even the young girl characters just don't look as pretty anymore. And the flashbacks to young Bulma, she just looks very plain and stocky, but actual DB and early DBZ Bulma has a softness to her that's very appealing.

And it was the whole art style. It wasn't just Bulma. Goku also had a softness to him that was very appealing.

And it's crazy to me, that someone could grow up loving Dragon Ball, growing up loving Toriyama, get there foot into the industry through making Dragon Ball doujins, and all you ever draw is Goku powering up and going Super Saiyan?

You never once draw any of Toriyama's cute girls? :c

And that's before we even get into the decline of the background art. And the decline of the machinery art. And the decline of the fashion.

WHEN was the last time YOU SAW Goku wearing a hat or a jacket that had the words "SON GOKU" embroidered or printed on them?

I know that young Toriyama was a beast. I know that it's very rare for an artist to have all of the skills that Toriyama had. Even Toriyama himself didn't have those skills for very long!

But it's just so depressing that Dragon Ball Super was a labour of love, and all of the love went into making it canon that power levels don't matter anymore, instead of any of the actual important stuff.

I would really much rather Dragon Ball just be laid to rest.

[loserchildhotpants]

I'm 5, my father is exhausted by my disabilities, and is in the house, but disappears from my view. I don't see him, he doesn't speak to me. My only sign that he cares about me is that he draws me perfectly rendered Loony Tunes shorts on my napkins, which I find in my lunchbox every day at school. The kids at school are so jealous. I think that even though I seem to annoy him, he must love me still, so I'll keep trying to be good for him.

I'm 8, my father doesn't smile anymore, I can't remember if he ever did, he doesn't draw things for me anymore, but I hug him when he comes in the door after work even though he never hugs me back, and I pour his wine for him because I think it will please him. He doesn't stay in view for longer than it takes him to finish his dinner and wine.

I'm 9, my father's temper is a red-hot, violent animal that I feel prowling around the house at all hours. I am scared, all the time. He sometimes makes vague comments alluding to that he'd like to hurt me, if he knew he could get away with it. I make myself smaller.

I'm 10, my father tells me my art style is cheap and immature, and if I don't learn to use references, I'll never improve, and anyway, I'll never be as good as my friends or sibling.

I'm 11, my father tells me often that I need to lose weight, and I can't be wearing those sundresses (my mother picked them out, I thought they looked pretty, but I guess not).

I'm 11, my father scares my sibling and me so much, after a sit down with my mother about what to do if she ever 'goes missing,' my sibling teaches me what to do if my father ever comes upstairs to kill us both. My sibling is 16 years old. They're prepared to die to protect me long enough to escape that house, if it ever comes to that. I'm grateful.

I'm 12, my father snorts derisively at the assertion that I'm really *just* friends with Kevin, Joe, Chris, and David. He tells me that I'm 'not the kind of girl a good man would marry.'

I'm 13, my father shows me all the love and affection I've ever wanted from him, then drops me entirely after 9 months of that because he was only showering me with attention to piss off and confuse my mother.

It occurs to me then that he knows how to be a dad to me, he knows what I want and need from him, he just chooses not to be my dad, because he doesn't like me.

I'm 14, my father gives me an analogy about a man that comes home everyday to a wife that hits him in the head with a frying pan and he asks me 'who has the problem,' in the story. I say, 'the man.' He's baffled, and asks me why in the world that would be my answer, and I ask, 'well... why is a man continuously returning to a place where he gets hit in the head with a frying pan? He's clearly unwanted there, I mean... how many times does he need to be hit in the head before he takes the hint?' -- he storms away from me, visibly irritated.

I do not realize at that time that I've not sympathized with him where he wanted me to.

I'm 14, my father puts down two bottles of wine and takes off on his motorcycle in the middle of the night, Christmas Eve. I don't remember if he returned by the next day or not. I was angry with him. I don't remember if I was angry he returned, or angry he left.

I'm 15, but I turn 16 at midnight, my father remains silent and stoic as I disclose what details I can manage to verbalize about my CSA. He never says anything to me about it. I think he doesn't believe me, and my mother later tells me just as much. She will go on to remind me of this throughout my life, especially when I wound her pride. It hurts each time.

I'm 16, my father tells my relatives at Christmas dinner something along the lines of that I'm 'easy,' I always have been, what with all 'those boys,' I've always kept around me. I look to my mother with tears in my eyes, silently beseeching her to do or say something, anything in my defense, but she begs me to please just stay quiet. I do.

I'm 16, my father tells me he would have beaten me throughout my life, had he known my mother wouldn't have left him for it. I realize I was right to feel so unsafe all these years - I wasn't imagining his desire for violence against me, that desire to harm me was so powerful, it was another resident in the home. That silent animal did prowl around me.

I'm 16, my father physically intimidates me for daring to presume it was okay to crack his bedroom door open in the night, because our elderly dog wanted to sleep at the foot of his and my mother's bed. I stand toe-to-toe with him, but I cry and shake as soon as he stomps back to his room.

I'm 17, my father's birthday arrives, and I write him a heartfelt letter about how I would love to see him draw again, and I hope my gift of sketching pencils and a leather bound sketchbook will encourage him to return to his greatest passions. He puts a potted plant on top of the sketchbook and never uses it, my card is somewhere in the garbage.

I'm 17, my father, after being prompted to reassure me that he really does love me, instead tells me he hates me and has always hated me. We are in public, with several other people. My mother tells me to not make a scene and to please just finish my dinner.

I'm 17, my father rambles about his perpetual victimhood. I tell him I don't want to speak to him anymore. Ever. We don't need to. We don't need to do this, and I don't want to. I tell him he's hurt me more than my childhood molester ever could have. He looks gutted, he cries and asks me, 'how could you say that to me?' and I tell him, 'because you were supposed to love me.' He asks to hug me, but I don't let him.

I'm 18, my father leaves without saying goodbye to me, despite me leaving a note for him to please give me a chance to say goodbye before he leaves. I don't know why I thought he would. I'm still disappointed he doesn't.

I'm 23, my father saves a holiday from being absolutely ruined by my mother's narcissistic tantrum. I tell him that she tells me often that he's never believed me about the CSA. He assures me he always has believed me, but I don't know. I don't know. We hug before I leave. I don't know how I feel about it. I don't know.

I'm 24, my father sometimes sends me shit I don't need or ask for in the mail, I tell him to stop. I wonder if this is another attempt at one-upping my mother. I don't want him to send me shit. I'm not asking for it. I don't need his help or his attention, I don't want it. He backs off a bit.

I'm 25, my father calls me maybe once a year, I think it's mostly to check I'm still alive and to pretend to his side of the family that he knows anything about what's going on with his children, because they ask, and he never has any information. I give him an annual rundown of my achievements, so he can tell my aunts and uncles and cousins that I'm still out there, doing things, I guess.

I'm 26, my father insists on getting into a political debate with me on the phone that quickly devolves into shouting, because we are morally antithetical to one another. He wants to play 'Devil's advocate,' and I tell him, 'the Devil doesn't need an advocate, and if he did, he wouldn't choose you.' I hang up on him and don't speak to him for two more years.

I'm 28, my father calls me twice in the same year. It's fine. We're civil.

I'm 29, my father calls me maybe four times in the same year. At some point, he asks me what he ought to do, because he agreed to see my mother for a dinner, which he didn't want to do, but she loudly cornered him at a relative's funeral, and he felt pressured to accept. I tell him honestly that he shouldn't go, that she hasn't changed, she's still toxic, she's still awful, and he doesn't owe her anything anymore.

I tell him that for the safety of his own emotional well-being, he should construct a polite text message and tell her that he's sorry for the late notice, but he won't be able to make that dinner.

He seems really relieved to have someone tell him that. He seems surprised that I ever noticed he was mistreated by her.

I don't mention that he also mistreated her, because that's not the conversation that we were having right then. I can hold compassion in more than one place, which is not a skill he taught me, not a skill my mother taught me either, and was not an inherent trait about me.

I learned it on my own, on purpose.

The calls are still few and far between, but more pleasant; we avoid inflammatory subjects, I don't ask questions I don't want the answers to, we build a little bit of rapport. It's fine.

I'm 30, my father sends a birthday gift to my husband (who he's always been awful to), later in the year, he compliments my nature photography. He has begun mailing me things again-- harmless things, really. Things I even like to receive in the mail. I'm a bit of a family historian, and he sends me an authentic copy of the New York Post from 1974 with articles relevant to his personal history, which I know next to nothing about. He's friendly.

I'm 30, my father is calling and texting a bit more frequently, and I speak to him today.

Today, I tell him he's being very compassionate for taking care of his ailing mother when she never took care of him, that this is gracious of him, and I don't mean to applaud martyrdom or anything, but his bandwidth of sympathy for her is commendable, and she's lucky to have him there to take care of her in these late years, even if she's a bit too senile, and was always naturally a bit too cold to ever appreciate it, even when she wasn't senile.

I guess he feels seen.

I joke with him, I make him laugh, we chat, and it's fine. It's nice, even. When we commiserate about how similar my mother (who we are both No Contact with) and his mother are, and how the Devil we know is so much easier to seek out in the world than what we don't know we don't know; I tell him I'm sorry he made such a long investment in a woman that ultimately reminds him so much of his mother, but that if it's any consolation, both his kids turned out pretty funny.

He tells me that my sibling and I are the only good thing to come out of his horrendous marriage, and I don't know that he's ever said anything so kind about me or my sibling before.

When I get off the phone with my father, I'm 30 still, and he's still my father and not my dad, I still don't have a dad, I still wish I did, and I'm not exactly feeling nostalgic, but wistful in a very strange way, and bereft in an even stranger way.

I have trouble crying, historically, but I feel like I might. I don't know why.

He's a cat that sits just out of reach.

Sometimes we orbit the perimeter of what I need and want from him, but I'm scared of him, and I don't think he likes me, still. I don't know if I've made him proud, and I don't want to ask, because I won't believe him if he says he is, and I don't want the answer to matter to me anyway.

He's still a stranger. I know him a little bit, though. Could I have known him anymore than I do? Or was he always going to remain out of reach, this way? I don't know him because he didn't want me to know him. Does he want me to know him now? Is he a safe person to know?

Now that I'm an adult that evidently holds compassion for him, does he feel now that it's safe to connect to me, to show me affection?

What part of this do I mourn? If I get too close, will he swipe at me?

He's a street cat that was kicked and beaten and burned his entire life, and it didn't make him gentle. It didn't make him kind. No one taught him how to be gentle or kind. Whatever peace he's achieved, it's been against the odds.

I used to be angry with him, but I'm not much anymore. I'd be lying if I said I didn't hold an ounce of resentment, but the past is just that, and there's nothing to do about it now.

Right?

[theficpusher]

Next time I see you, remind me not to talk to you. by werepope | T | 1138 Too much punch at someone else's office party. Those are the kinds of decisions he's making tonight.

Maybe I Like This Rollercoaster by dessertmeltdown | G | 1638 Harry sets Nick up on a date for their office Christmas Party.

Sweeter Than Fiction by fairytalelights | T | 2790 With that, Louis channels every single Drama lesson he ever took in school, and starts walking towards Curly Angel, as his drunk brain has dubbed him in the past twenty seconds. It sounds at least a little less biblical than His Saviour. And then, in lieu of a great conversation opener, he does the only thing his drunk brain can come up with. He grabs Curly Angel, pulls him close and kisses him. or, the one where Louis has to attend the most boring work party and Harry might be his way out of there.

I Just Want You (For My Own) by BleedMeAMelody | nr | 6147 “I made it so that you’re Harry Styles’ secret santa!” Niall practically shouted, clearly excited by his handiwork. Louis blinked once, twice, three times. “I’m sorry, I must be hearing things because it sounded like you just said that you made me Harry Styles’ secret santa, which I know can’t possibly be true,” Louis said evenly with a shake of his head. “Oh, but it is! I did!” Niall exclaimed happily. Or, Niall is tired of listening to Louis pine over the cute, curly-haired boy who works on the fourth floor, so he rigs the company’s secret santa. Holiday antics ensue.

Blame It On Christmas by Kikiberoski16 | E | 7068 Life was good until a new coworker showed up. It’s a little insane but not even a little bit funny how much Harry instantly despised the new guy. He’s always late, but always shows up with the most charming smile so nobody can get mad. His desk is a mess and he doesn’t seem to have ever learned the words ‘thanks’ or ‘sorry.’ And as if a bad employee isn’t bad enough, this particular bad employee is none other than the CEO's nephew, Louis fucking Tomlinson. Or, Harry is the six-time winner of the yearly Christmas sweater competition, but it all changes when a new coworker shakes up his whole world.

You're Invited by QuickedWeen | M | 8581 Harry loves the Christmas season, but she does not love her office Christmas party. Every year it's the same old story, all of her male coworkers that she thought were nice, normal guys during the year turn on a dime and won't stop hitting on her. She backs herself into a corner when she accidentally blurts out that she can't attend the party with any of them because she's bringing her girlfriend. One problem: she doesn't have a girlfriend.

I Think I’m Addicted to Your Light by supernope | E | 9241 Louis is just zipping back up when the door swings open with a swell of noise and someone shuffles up next to him, shoes tapping loudly against the tile floor. Louis turns to see who’s walked in and just violated the code of the men’s toilet by taking the urinal next to him and is met with wide, green eyes and red lips stretched into a brilliant smile. “Happy new year,” the guy grins, shaking long, curly hair away from his face. “You look sharp. Sorry, do you mind holding this for a minute? I don’t really have any place to keep it and it’s kind of a hassle, getting out of these things. Don’t want it to fall in.” He indicates his legs with the hand clutching a pale pink phone, and Louis’ gaze drops. Speechless, Louis takes the phone, eyes locked on the guy’s legs. His gorgeous legs, clad only in a pair of black thigh-highs held up by a silky black garter belt.

The Christmas Lift by homosociallyyours | G | 13150 Louis lies about having a boyfriend to avoid being set up on a blind date by an overzealous co-worker, but now he's in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his office holiday party. He’s complaining about it on the phone to Liam when Harry, his unknown but hot neighbor, overhears him in the lift and offers to help. It doesn't take long for Louis to realize he wishes things weren't quite so fake, but he's afraid it'll take a Christmas miracle to make anything happen.

Chestnuts Roasting... And All That by elsi_bee | M | 46760 Louis is apparently the only person at his new job who is single as can be. It’s not a big deal to just tell his new colleagues that he has a boyfriend, right? Until he has to make this imaginary boyfriend magically appear at the office holiday party. Cue fake relationship antics with a certain someone who is more than willing to play along.

[high-guardian-spice-fan]

The good points of: Sage

Other parts here

Today, I will write about the second main protagonist: Sage.

Sage is... a complexe character to analyse. Not because she has a very deep psychology, but because she’s two very different characters in one. Sage is like doctor Jekyll. Good Sage is an anxious, shy, hard-working, bookworms nerd. Bad Sage is a manipulative, toxic, selfcentred villain. So in the fandom, you can find people who absolutly love Sage because they relate to her a lot and people who just hate her because she reminds them horrible friends. Since I was an anxious nerd in my teenager years AND I had a friend like bad Sage, I have trouble to decide how I feel about her.

So for this post, I will only talk about good Sage. The Sage that the creators want to write most of the time and not the Sage that they write because of a lack of global vision.

As usual, don’t hesitate to go to the creator’s tumblr: @dinoraye​

(And if you don’t want to be tagged on all my post Raye, don’t hesitate to tell me in mp)

Her design

Sage’s is pretty simple for this serie. In comparaison with Rosemary’s one, we could call it too simple: only one color, overly simple clothes... But I think it matches well with her personnality. If Rosemary is flamboyant, loud and energetic, Sage is the exact opposite. She’s quite, tries to not attract too much attention, is more of a follower.

So, her simple old-fashioned dress, her big witch hate, her simple boots and her braid tell you everything you need to know about her. And also about the dynamic between her and her friend.

Plus, I really like that her eyes are pink like Rosemary's hair and Rosemray’s eyes are blue like Sage’s hair. It’s a nice touch that express how much this two are close.

But that’s not it. Because Sage has a particularity: her design evolves during the show. And it’s not her clothes like it’s expect, but it’s her haircut.

This design is the original design that Raye Rodriguez made for her. And I must admit that short-hair-Sage is adorable! Plus, it’s a symbol of her evolution. I’m kinda sad that the scene where she cuts her hair isn’t related to her arc (she cuts them for saving Rosemary, and even if it’s cute that she did it for her friend, she never express a lot of attachment toward her hair and saving Rosemary isn’t related to her personnal arc), but at least we understand that short-hair-Sage is more confident (she compliment Snapdragon about his nails without being anxious) and that she finds her own way to do magic (which was her arc).

Bonus point for the fact that when she cuts her hair, it’s not nice right away and Rosemary needs to style it:

It’s a nice little touch to her design and her character.

Her personnality

Like I said, Sage has two very different personnalities. But for the sake of this serie of post, we will talk about Good-Sage.

Sage begins the story as a quite, shy and anxious but who tries to do her best. She brings a nice contrast and breaks with the always enthusiastic Rosemary. With her, we have the time to learn about the universe, its rules and magic. And since she doesn’t take all the spotlight, she’s also a good character for introducing others less difficult like Thyme or Amaryllis.

But she also has the potential to be a guardian. At her first class, professor Caraway explains that they must be brave if they want to be a guardian. And that’s what Sage does: she overcomes her shyness (showned a few moments before) and raises her hand to talk in public.

She also knows she’s not perfect at all and she has a lo to learn. So when she decides to use new magic, she wakes up early to train. It’s admirable.

Her story and her arc

Sage is clearly the character that the creators were the most interested in. Her arc is the main one for half the show, her troubles are way more explored than the other’s and she’s linked to every story unlike Rosemary (who is linked to the rot only because she likes Parsley and Parsley is Thyme’s friend).

Sage is involved in the plot because her arc is about magic. So she has to learn it, which linked her to the school’s stories. So she has to talk about with her relatives, which linked her to the outside school’s stories. So it creates drama because she’s inscured about it, which linked her to the dramatic stories. So she argues with other characters, which linked her to character’s exploration’s stories. And since the ain threat is magic, she’s linked to it actively. Clearly, Sage is the most interesting to follow and - in my opinion - the real main character of the show.

Like I said, Sage as the anxious nerd, is very relatable. Everyone has being insecure during their teenager’s years. And seeing Sage having the same problems and solving it is comforting. She also becomes more confident, more open, more stable. We’re happy for her.

Finally, Sage has a real romance with Snapdragon (sorry Raye, I don’t buy it the “Sage and Rosemary could be the end goal”). And it’s really, really cute! Their flirts and their interactions are well written and it’s pleasant to see them together. Especially when Snapdragon doesn’t really have someone to talk about his feelings since his only friend - Amaryllis - isn’t really good with emotions and all. Same with Rosemary and Sage, as much as Rosemary wants to, she’s unable to quite understand Sage’s troubles with her family since her whole background is family love. They could make a great couple.

She has a full arc, problems, an evolution psychological and physical, has a cute romance and is involved with the plot.

Conclusion

Sage is clearly the character who represents what the creators wanted to do: writting story about growing up. She’s the one who is the most involved and who evolves the most. She’s also the most relatable one because her problems (fear of disappointing her family, not being enough, anxious about not knowing everything and not being able to plan proprely, troubles to adapt to new concept...) can be apply to our own life.

And since she’s the quite one, she lets her scenes breath and we learn as much about other characters as about her in them. She made a great duo with Rosemary to help the audience to feel involved.

What do you think about Sage? Do you like her? If not, why?

[luna-3-clips]

Blue Lock written as a play script

Act 1, Scene 1

Chapters: One (Dream)

JFU meeting

Anri sits at the end of the long meeting table of the JFU while Buratsuta sits across from her at the other end, all other members fill in the rest of the chairs. Every member has articles or documents in front of them, and all members, except Anri, have a bottle containing a drink in front of them.

Anri “Err… once again, our Japanese representative team has keenly felt the wall that is the rest of the world. I believe we must take this to heart and devise a plan to become even stronger for the next would cup… What do you think, chairman…?”

Buratsuta is sitting back on his chair while resting his right elbow on the chair’s armrest and has his hand against his cheek.

Buratsuta “Huh? We’re making money, so who cares? In the end, soccer is just business. Let’s just find some foreign coach or some Japanese guy… And I’d it doesn’t work out, we’ll just fire them. Even if we don’t do anything, just representing Japan is enough to make our brand profitable.”

Anri is silent at this and Buratsuta crosses his arms while leaning farther back in his chair.

Buratsuta “What if your reposed firm ends up hurting profits? Some people may appeal against you.”

Buratsuta’s face turns from not caring and relaxed, to looking like he has an idea.

Buratsuta “May appeal… May a… Maya… ah!”

Buratsuta puts his hands on the table as he makes his joke.

Buratsuta “I said Maya! Like Maya Yoshida!”*

JFU member 1 smacks his forehead as he laughs while JFU member 3 puts his hands in front of him as if he’s about to tell a story.

JFU member 1 “Baha!”

JFU member 2 “How about that, Oka-Chan?!”

JFU member 3 “That was pretty foul! I give it a red card!”

Anri puts her hands on the table in front of her as she speaks in a slightly annoyed but determined tone.

Anri “It’s true that Japanese soccer has made great advancements over the last twenty-five years, and we’ve become a regular participant in the World Cup, and thus it can be said that we’ve achieved a certain level of success. However, allow me to state this clearly! At this rate, Japanese soccer is in danger of never winning the World Cup.”

Some of the JFU members look at Anri with shocked faces.

Buratsuta “Huh? Anri-Chan, do you really believe that Japan can win the World Cup?!”

Buratsuta says as he has his creepy smile on his face, and Anri gets up from her chair.

Anri “Of course I do, you damn Tanuki**. That’s my dream!”

Anri stands in front of a tv-sized screen that’s being held up by two long metal (assumed) rods.

Anri “‘We can win if we play our own type of match.’ ‘Japan’s passing-style soccer can be effective internationally.’ It’s because we keep saying things like this that we never make it past the best sixteen.”

Anri turns on the screen with a remote, the screen shows a guy’s profile. He’s slim and seems tall from the image, he has a bowl cut and wears glasses.

Buratsuta “If you’re saying all that Anri-Chan, do you have some kind of plan?” ‘They’re so big..’

Buratsuta’s face looks some-what bored as he admired Anri’s breasts.

Anri “I will produce players who can lead this country to a World Cup victory!! Please observe! This is the indispensable coach who will help us destroy and remake Japanese soccer…”

Anri, some-what harshly, puts her hand just below Ego’s picture on the screen.

Anri “Jinpachi Ego.”

-End scene-

*Maya Yoshida is a famous Japanese soccer player

**A Tanuki is a Japanese raccoon dog

[bllk-play-script]

Act 1, Scene 1

JFU meeting

Chapters: 1 (Dream)

Anri sits at the end of the long meeting table of the JFU while Buratsuta sits across from her at the other end, all other members fill in the rest of the chairs. Every member has articles or documents in front of them, and all members, except Anri, have a bottle containing a drink in front of them.

Anri “Err… once again, our Japanese representative team has keenly felt the wall that is the rest of the world. I believe we must take this to heart and devise a plan to become even stronger for the next would cup… What do you think, chairman…?”

Buratsuta is sitting back on his chair while resting his right elbow on the chair’s armrest and has his hand against his cheek.

Buratsuta “Huh? We’re making money, so who cares? In the end, soccer is just business. Let’s just find some foreign coach or some Japanese guy… And I’d it doesn’t work out, we’ll just fire them. Even if we don’t do anything, just representing Japan is enough to make our brand profitable.”

Anri is silent at this and Buratsuta crosses his arms while leaning farther back in his chair.

Buratsuta “What if your reposed firm ends up hurting profits? Some people may appeal against you.”

Buratsuta’s face turns from not caring and relaxed, to looking like he has an idea.

Buratsuta “May appeal… May a… Maya… ah!”

Buratsuta puts his hands on the table as he makes his joke.

Buratsuta “I said Maya! Like Maya Yoshida!”*

JFU member 1 smacks his forehead as he laughs while JFU member 3 puts his hands in front of him as if he’s about to tell a story.

JFU member 1 “Baha!”

JFU member 2 “How about that, Oka-Chan?!”

JFU member 3 “That was pretty foul! I give it a red card!”

Anri puts her hands on the table in front of her as she speaks in a slightly annoyed but determined tone.

Anri “It’s true that Japanese soccer has made great advancements over the last twenty-five years, and we’ve become a regular participant in the World Cup, and thus it can be said that we’ve achieved a certain level of success. However, allow me to state this clearly! At this rate, Japanese soccer is in danger of never winning the World Cup.”

Some of the JFU members look at Anri with shocked faces.

Buratsuta “Huh? Anri-Chan, do you really believe that Japan can win the World Cup?!”

Buratsuta says as he has his creepy smile on his face, and Anri gets up from her chair.

Anri “Of course I do, you damn Tanuki**. That’s my dream!”

Anri stands in front of a tv-sized screen that’s being held up by two long metal (assumed) rods.

Anri “‘We can win if we play our own type of match.’ ‘Japan’s passing-style soccer can be effective internationally.’ It’s because we keep saying things like this that we never make it past the best sixteen.”

Anri turns on the screen with a remote, the screen shows a guy’s profile. He’s slim and seems tall from the image, he has a bowl cut and wears glasses.

Buratsuta “If you’re saying all that Anri-Chan, do you have some kind of plan?” ‘They’re so big..’

Buratsuta’s face looks some-what bored as he admired Anri’s breasts.

Anri “I will produce players who can lead this country to a World Cup victory!! Please observe! This is the indispensable coach who will help us destroy and remake Japanese soccer…”

Anri, some-what harshly, puts her hand just below Ego’s picture on the screen.

Anri “Jinpachi Ego.”

-End scene-

*Maya Yoshida is a famous Japanese soccer player

**A Tanuki is a Japanese raccoon dog

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #36 – Life Does Not Allow Us To Meet by He Xi

I read this basically entirely because it got a hugo nomination, and assuredly would never have tried it otherwise – I literally wouldn’t even have heard of it, let alone be able to get my hands on a (digital) copy. So I went into this with frustratingly little context. Overall I’d call it an interesting read if not necessarily a loveable one.

The story follows a trio of explorers being sent to the colony of Caspian Sea, decades after the previous attempt to check on its progress was lost in a freak FTL accident. The planet, seeded with a population of genetically engineered ‘pioneers’ - humans modified to thrive in its environment - needs to be graded for suitability, and the colonists introduced to advanced technology and welcomed into humanity. Unsurprisingly, things do not go according to plan – the last mission’s destruction wasn’t as reported by the lone survivor, and the population has strayed increasingly far from the plan the Constitution of Earth demands.

Its heritage is of course entirely different, but the story was just incredibly reminiscent of old Golden Age American sci fi to me. The reason is some combination of style and content, I think. It’s overwhelmingly a novella of dialogue and exposition – pages at a time are dedicated to one character explaining a principle of the story’s science or technology to another. With the exception of the very final reveal, the whole plot is dialogue explaining the laws which the story is an expression of or decisions that they had already made – ‘action’ in any sense is in very short supply (despite the genocide). Reminded me of reading my dad’s ratty old paperbacks in the basement as a kid. Oddly nostalgic reading experience.

Prose-wise the story does come across as slightly stilted? Or maybe distant is the better word. Characters emote and have strong reactions, but in nearly every case it felt a bit tell-not-show. I’m not sure how much of that is from the original and how much is an artifact of translation (such is life for the tragically monolingual). While I mean, I’m fairly certain the translation could have been more graceful in places (I simply do not believe that referring to the original colony ship as Big Ship as a proper noun reads the same in English as whatever the original Mandarin was), but beyond that.

Speaking of being in translation – this is a story that made me desperately wish I was more properly familiar with the Chinese SF scene. If only because my initial reaction to it is that it’s obviously in conversation with the whole Three Body Problem series, but also those are literally the only two works of Chinese science fiction I’ve read so I really have no knowledge at all of the wider context they’re both swimming within.

Regardless, Life’s presentation of alien life absolutely does rhyme with Three Body’s, right down to the same examples of historical genocides being used to make the point. The xenophobia is presented as policy rather than an actual law of history, but it feels like a very intentional reference (and the story clearly considers it at least plausible if not necessarily self-evident). Which is what drives the central moral drama of the story – that despite the most careful possible genetic engineering, stellar radiation has left the pioneers of Caspian Sea incapable of reproducing with earth-born humans, and so made them functionally a different species. And thus, by the constitution of earth, axiomatically a potential threat to the survival of humanity that must be exterminated out of hand.

Going from Children of Memory (a series motivated in large part by wonder and joy at the idea of truly nonhuman intelligence, and possessed of ironclad faith in the potential of cosmopolitan, liberal societies to integrate wildly disparate parts) to this was something of a shock.

The book’s vision of humanity is kind of interesting, honestly. Subspecies modified to thrive on different planets, but capable of interbreeding to ensure some level of biological solidarity or shared destiny or something. Not making drastic changes to the appearance, even if it means awkwardly hiding gills under arm pits or not even trying to colonize worlds that would require exuding a thick mucus layer, basically explicitly to make sure that everyone will still find each other fuckable. Fascinatingly shallow, almost?

Anyways yes, interesting ideas and central drama, let down some by prose and execution. Very Asimov.

[sciencespies]

Archaeology and ecology combined sketch a fuller picture of past human-nature relationships

https://sciencespies.com/environment/archaeology-and-ecology-combined-sketch-a-fuller-picture-of-past-human-nature-relationships/

Archaeology and ecology combined sketch a fuller picture of past human-nature relationships

For decades now, archaeologists wielded the tools of their trade to unearth clues about past peoples, while ecologists have sought to understand current ecosystems. But these well-established scientific disciplines tend to neglect the important question of how humans and nature interacted and shaped each other across different places and through time. An emerging field called archaeoecology can fill that knowledge gap and offer insights into how to solve today’s sustainability challenges, but first, it must be clearly defined. A new paper by Santa Fe Institute Complexity Fellow Stefani Crabtree and Jennifer Dunne, SFI’s Vice President for Science, lays out the first comprehensive definition of archaeoecology and calls for more research in this nascent but important field.

While an archaeology or palaeobiology study might examine a particular relationship, such as how humans in New Guinea raised cassowaries during the Late Pleistocene, archaeoecology takes a much broader view. “It’s about understanding the whole ecological context, rather than focusing on one or two species,” Dunne explains.

Crabtree hatched the idea for the paper in March 2020 after isolating in her father’s basement in Oregon as COVID spread across the U.S. She and Dunne, who had both worked on projects about the roles of humans in ancient food webs, realized that work didn’t fit readily in either archaeology or ecology. At the time, there was no notion in the scientific community of an area of research that deeply integrated those two disciplines. Crabtree, an archaeologist, and Dunne, an ecologist, saw an opportunity to define archaeoecology, including the role it can play in addressing the myriad challenges of the Anthropocene.

Archaeoecology, they explain in the paper, examines the past ~60,000 years of interplay between humans and ecosystems. It aims to show not only how humans impact nature, but also how the ecosystems they lived within shaped human culture and dynamics. To achieve this, archaeoecology weaves together data, questions, strategies, and modeling tools from archaeology, ecology, and palaeoecology.

“What it’s doing is breaking down a traditional, but unnecessary, disciplinary separation between archaeology and ecology,” Dunne says.

Crabtree hopes the paper will encourage more scientists to pursue research in the emerging field. And with humanity facing the twin crises of climate change and biodiversity loss, archaeoecology could yield crucial insights that help us navigate our present-day environmental challenges, she says. For instance, as climate change causes Utah’s Great Salt Lake to dry up, we don’t know exactly how this will impact the larger ecosystem. However, we can look to the past for warnings about what might be in store: Through an archaeoecological lens of the Aral Sea during the height of the Silk Road, we can see more clearly how the Soviet Union’s 1960s water diversion project and the subsequent desiccation of the sea impacted the surrounding ecosystems and human communities. Similarly, an archaeological lens documents the stabilizing role that Martu Aboriginal people had on Australia’s Western Desert and the massive biodiversity loss that resulted when the people were removed from the land.

“Every ecosystem on the planet is impacted by humans in one way or another,” Crabtree says. “It’s naïve to look at just the last 100 years because people have been impacting ecosystems everywhere for many thousands of years. We need to understand the past to understand our present and future. Archaeoecology helps with that. We can learn from these experiments with sustainability in the past.”

Story Source:

Materials provided by Santa Fe Institute. Note: Content may be edited for style and length.

#Environment