#but yeah i was starting to feel like a commodity of sorts?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm surprised you haven't posted any Welcome home stuff recently! Honestly kinda makes me sad since I love your WH art and stuff

yea y'all are gonna have to be Patient w/ me bc

a) i have like. a week left to pack all of my stuff before i need to shove everything into a uhaul and leave, so its crunch time! leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else

b) to be honest my mental health is the worst its been in years - which is fine, its whatever, i can deal. it's not as bad as it could be and im handling it! like a champ, even! but also its leaving little to no energy/interest in anything else

c) had a minor crisis over my art and how i interact w/ WH, and i realized im not scribbling enough of what I want. ive mostly been trying to please people and do as asked and thats! not good! so i want to temper expectation & reassert that im Not a WH art blog - its just a hyperfixation / something i love rn. i draw what i enjoy & what i want in the moment.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying I'm not rich?

Wait stop hear me out

So the thing is, my father is wealthy. Or at least he made enough money to have two Ferraris and a boat, which to me are the most useless things because why would u spend that money on this when u could spend it on food or commodities but details

When I was young, any time I asked for money or something, he'd make a huge deal about it. He'd make me feel awful, so awful that I just stopped asking for anything at all, starting from my teenage years to my college years, and I survived entire months, living alone during college, with 50 dollars to get by. For groceries and bills. And yes, he was nice enough to pay for my rent (170 dollars back then) but every time I'd be the worst piece of garbage for asking him. Worst thing was, I wanted a job, but he had this delusion that any sort of job that would take me, basically customer service, i wanted was "underneath my daughter" so he legit didn't let me and he'd go to big, big hoops to not allow me to do so

I'd never buy clothes or other necessities: I spent my teenage years just putting together what I got from relatives to make some savings, and I'd survive on that. He'd go splendid on my birthday and christmas, I guess, he'd buy me things, but I came to dread those days because the thought of him spending money -and how he reacted to it- always sent me into a blind panic so yes even though I got nice gifts I was never happy about it and I really really don't like my birthday

So I was always the girl who had two Ferraris to my friends, and they'd always get mad at me when I honestly told them "actually Im not rich" or "I'm sorry I'd rather go to the cheaper place" - because I legit thought i wasn't - and called me an asshole. But This was my father's money and I lived with him, but I rarely saw an actual dollar, everything I bought was with my savings and I spent years and years accumulating it, hoarding it. So I lived in this fancy house, but I'd wear 3 dollar pants and worn shoes because that's what I could afford with my money.

Note that even paying my school fees was a nightmare to me, because my father openly said I was a parasite and screamed at me but whATEVER

So um, my friends always said i was an ass for saying I didn't have any money, when my father was swimming in it. But when u survive on the allowance ur aunt gave u for an entire month, u really don't feel like it? and I always always felt so bad about it, because it felt like they were right and I was an asshole for pretending I don't have money. Except I didn't. I really didn't. That was all his, not mine, and while he did pay school and college flat rent, he was always making sure I knew what a burden I was for it. So yes, I'd still say I was actually not rich - even though I was lucky enough to have someone pay for me.

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that, when it's not mine and I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

Note: I am a grown adult now, I live on my own, pay my own things and have my job. And he's happy that he doesn't have to pay for me anymore, is baffled by my relationship with money (I don't like spending it ahah), not so much about me not living with him though. (The weird thing is he wants me with him, but not to take care of me which, honestly, valid) I do have a better relationship with him, but we never talk money because I live on minimum wage - ironically enough in costumer service - and he doesn't, so to me spending 60 on groceries is a lot (150 bills destroy me honestly, so winter is a joy) and he always, always mocks me for it. It's weird how he goes around with a Rolex and snuffs me for wearing Primark pants and then people constantly just... Think I have money at all and get mad at me when I say I don't

Anyway yeah AITA for saying I'm not rich? Tbh I really don't know if I can consider myself that if it's not mine, if I've never actually used it, it doesn't feel like it, but some tell me that's my privilege and I guess that could be right

[depravitycentral]

Wait but can i please ask for a darling that can speak a language that her captor( especially Nobunaga or Uvogin) can't ? 🥹

Like she speaks Vietnamese so everytime that dude try to hugs her or random shit and she said "Cút ra coi" ( please fuck off) and he can't understand! Maybe he will be mad since her tone is carrying alot of attitudes.

Since Vietnamese have ALOT of cursed words so i think i can bullied them and get away with it sometime...

You don't have to do this if you don't want to but if you did, thank you alot. I recently go crazy with your blog, you are so talented 😭🙌. Love and support from Vietnam!

As a preface, my native language is English, I speak a passable amount of Spanish, and I'm minoring in German at my university but I'm not nearly proficient, so I'm not exactly the expert in being fluently multilingual, but I'll try my best with this one!

As with most things, different yanderes have different feelings regarding this ability of yours. By and large, they find it wonderful - you're just so smart, so capable and wonderful and hearing the way the syllables and phrases fall from your lips gets them shivering, their heart racing in their chest because god, you sound heavenly. Even if the language is harsher sounding, or isn't considered the most alluring - it's seductive to them, sensual, sexy.

But, of course, you're only supposed to use the other language(s) at certain times. On their terms. When they want to just admire you and not understand what you're saying. When you're just supposed to look pretty, to be gorgeous and wonderful and perfect.

But the rest of the time, speak what they understand, yeah?

Because really, the worst nightmare of most yanderes is to be unable to understand what you're saying - they crave your attention and interaction with you so deeply and desperately that they can't stand not having a clue of what you're saying. Every thought you have feels precious to them, like some sort of cherished, rare commodity that they absolutely can't waste.

But of course, each yandere is different, so let's discuss!

Some are genuinely ambivalent. The lucid yanderes really fall into two main categories; apathetic, and paranoid. The more apathetic, laid-back yanderes think it's good that you're speaking in a language that makes you more comfortable. They want you to feel comfortable and happy around them, after all, and if this is the way to make that happen, so be it. This is a very small price to pay to make you like them more - they can't understand what you're saying, sure, but it's good for you to be able to vent, to be able to speak all your feelings - even if they wish they could hear every single word. Besides, you look nice when you're speaking - they like to watch your lips, the different sounds making them pucker and smack and look soft and warm and delicious. A few yanderes who react in this way include Franklin Bordeau, Pakunoda, Uvogin, Hajime Iwaizumi, Gyomei Himejima, and Shouta Aizawa.

Some of them are paranoid that you're saying things about them, calling them horrible names and expressing your hatred for them. Mostly, this stems from the yandere's own lucidity and shame for how they feel for you. It's wrong to be so obsessed with you, and even further wrong to have kidnapped you and forced you to stay with them for the rest of your life - of course you're angry, and it's healthy to vent your feelings. Except, there's this sense of diminished control when you're ranting and raving in another language, because even though you sound pretty, what are you saying? You aren't using their name, sure, but you sound mad, and they're the only possible cause. Are you calling them a monster? Telling them they're hideous and disgusting and some sick freak? You're well within your rights to do so, sure, but they want to at least know what kind of insults you're throwing their way. Overthinking and anxiety get the best of them, and they start forbidding you from speaking another language - on the grounds of it being unfair or some other horrible, childish excuse. Mostly, they just don't like the idea of you harboring hateful feelings for them without even knowing about it. It's scary, and even if it sounds pretty and makes them gush over you, it's not preferable. A few yanderes that come to mind for this category are Feitan Portor, Obanai Iguro, Tobio Kageyama, Kenji Futakuchi, and Tomura Shigaraki.

Some are utterly fascinated. Watching you speak another language can captivate them for hours, and they'll be bugging you to explain everything you're saying, perched at the edge of their seat because they want to understand this piece of you. They'll want you to teach them a little bit - just a few phrases, to start, but you'll find that they've gone and done some research of their own, quickly getting a feel for the language because it's your language and they want to impress you - and will begin actively trying to use it in their everyday interactions with you. The phrases they prioritize are I love you, you are beautiful, you are mine, and come to bed with me. (And of course, depending on the language, that last one can have a whole wealth of different connotations.) It makes them feel connected to you, like there's some special thing binding you two together - particularly if it's a language that's less commonly spoken. It's like some secret you two share, and for the more possessive yanderes, it's just another claim of ownership over you - they can be involved in every part of your life, slowly seeping their presence into every little thing you do - even something as natural and personal and raw. A few yanderes who take this approach are Chrollo Lucilfer, Kurapika Kurta, Koushi Sugawara, Kyojuro Rengoku, Tengen Uzui, Hizashi Yamada, and Taishiro Toyomitsu.

By and large, most yanderes have positive feelings towards your ability to speak another language - it just makes you more special, and convinces them that you're even more worthy of their attention and attraction.

Besides, when you say their name with the accent it would be spoken in your language?

Well, it's your fault when they're throwing you onto the bed and kissing you like they'll die without you.

(Also I am sending you hugs and kisses, thanks for supporting my blog from Vietnam!! As for Nobunaga, I have mixed feelings about where to place him on this listing - I think he'd like the idea, initially, because you just look so damn cute when you're speaking your language, especially when you're cursing or frustrated. But the moment that you say something he thinks might be about him and might be even a bit negative, suddenly those endearing feelings are changing. Suddenly he's growing defensive, hostile, suspicious, demanding you tell him what you said and thus falling into the second category mentioned above. I think he's a hard yandere to categorize for most things because his delusional mindset makes him a bit unpredictable, but that would be my guess!)

[twst-drabbles]

OCs 1

Summary: Danger only continues to climb, leaving behind more and more scars and injuries that you have just gotten almost numb to. But, of course, your friends have to react to it, because they care too much.

(Yaaaaay I got all the main requests out! Now I just have the Fish's Eye to get through. Eventually. I will be opening up the inbox for all requests at some point. Keep an eye out for that! Also hehehe, my OCs! I swear, I do care about them!)

Just when you think things are fading, that the scars and old injuries on your body were receding, something always comes around to mess you up all over again.

It really feels like you’re getting used to risking your life for the sake of saving people. In your mind, they’re your dumbass friends, but you really can’t call them that when you’re over here being a bigger idiot than any of them.

You don’t have magic, and magic refuses to heal you in the way it does others. But you go on anyway, letting your legs take you forward to grab another reached out hand, another knocked out body, and shield another person caught unawares.

You stopped keeping track how many bones you’ve fractured, how many scars you’ve gained, how nerves you’ve damaged.

You’ve almost learned to live with it, but, as always, you can’t really keep to that state of mind.

Not with all these students reminding you every so often.

“I don’t understand how you can forgive them,” Valenio hovered by the doorway, clearly intending on following right behind you as some sort of moral support. “After all that, I feel uneasy even being in the same room as any of those housewardens.”

As if those same housewardens also don’t feel uneasy whenever you’re in the same room. You’re not some taboo subject that shouldn’t be seen or touched.

Valenio means well, you know that, but it irritates you all the same.

“Don’t think about it too deeply, buddy,” you sighed out as you walked past him, “It’s a mess, but I can handle it. Just, focus on your own things, ‘kay?”

Antas was… more direct about it.

“Simply put, those pixies of yours wouldn’t stop filling my ears with their bell-like voices,” Antas waved about, as if they were still ringing in his ears, “Injuries and scars such as this are rare, you know. They think your body is giving up on you, that you’re on your last legs.”

Ah, that explains the stacks upon stacks of berries, tiny potion jars and other get-well commodities you’ve seen being left on your window as of late. But, even with that truth of those pixies concern, it’s easy to see that this was just an excuse to stretch out his own brand of concerned.

“Yeah yeah, don’t pay it too much mind,” you’re trying to keep it out of yours in the first place, even through all the occasional pain and itching, “If I’m actually dying, you’ll know about it.”

Tul’Veith is gentle to you, infuriatingly so, whenever you two meet up. He was already straining himself worrying over his body and studies, and here he was, constantly struggling to bring you more potions just to help you out.

“It took me a little bit, but I managed to get my hands on some amazing ingredients. Uh, here, this one should help with pain.”

And, you have to push it back to him. You know he’s not telling you the whole truth. He pulled from his own treasures that he used on himself, to help his own ailing body.

If you let Tul’Veith start with this worrying, he’ll never stop. And you’ll get distracted, and probably even think that you need this and drain him of everything he has.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out myself how to deal with it.”

Just, he really needs to stop.

And Vio, he seethes. Well, he’s always seething against something, like the whole world has somehow wronged him in every way it can think of. But, when you’re around, it seems as though it gets deeper, more sour.

He bites into his lips until they start to bleed, and he tugs at his hair until it’s out of its ponytail and is just a curly mess.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep well at all.”

But, he doesn’t point anything out. He trudges on and at least pretends to have a normal day, coming up with every excuse to explain his mood rather than blow up in your face about your recklessness, and blow up at everyone else that gave you these scars.

You leave him alone, because as much as you appreciate him not saying anything, you don’t want any part of his mood.

Cheridal’s been persistent. He comes over to your dorm more and more, often taking up task that are generally tedious to do, like cleaning your forks and spoons to a mirror shine.

“Really? Nothing to talk about or say? No anger or resentment to speak of?” Cheridal asked as he wiped away every drop of water from your utensils before putting it in its proper drawer.

“Stop fishing, Cheridal,” you flicked water at him, almost cringing when your rubber gloves slipped down your arm, but you tugged it back with your teeth, “I don’t hate anyone. I don’t need anyone to take revenge for me.”

“Just, saying, the offer is still open.”

So he says, like he wasn’t eager to correct a perceived injustice. Your feelings are more than enough to get him to act, doesn’t really care if everyone else did something wrong or not.

You won’t let something like the state of your body be the reason you hate anyone. This was just the result of your actions. A reminder that not even magic would be able to save you if you do anything too stupid.

Whatever happens, you’ll be sure to face it as best you can.

[lostconductor]

really longwinded fuckass trans oc essay

despite being trans myself i don't really think any of my trans characters actually satisfyingly explore the trans experience to me, which is fine because a trans character can just Exist, but also i do wish i had more characters who's lives and identities are affected by being trans. because my experience so far is that being transgender has affected me in a way where i feel proud to wear the label on my lapel because i've come this far. but i find that in most of my trans ocs' stories, being transgender is either a: destigmatized and/or b: not a problem (hormones and medical transition readily available, taken care of). there's that line between "do i really want to write transphobia into a world where everyone can just be happy?" and "i want a character that's had one of the genuine modern trans experiences" (i say one of and not "the" because there is no The Trans Experience).

then theres project moon world. where gender is and isn't important because gendered bodies and traits do exist, it's literally just the names that are subverted. but (at least as far as i personally know, i dont know anything beyond lobcorp, half of ruina, and everything up to like the lab half of yi sang's canto) we don't actually see or hear any discussion of gender or gender issues, or anything implying that a gender inequality or trans people even exist. which is fine i guess. not the main focus when people are turning into giant monsters and killing each other with giant swords. but it makes it hard to picture any sort of modern experience and relationship with gender in that world that'd match up with anything we relate to. body modification is a commodity and normalized there. you can get surgery to transfer your body into a robot body as long as your brain is intact. you can replace your head now. top and bottom surgery is ancient news, that's just normal. you can replace your head with a triangle now. do people still come out of the closet? does gender even come into play with sexuality anymore? does anyone give a fuck when people are turning into monsters and shit? it sounds like a nice world, where you don't have to constantly be on defense because someone might kill you for being a little too queer, but it also makes it really hard to visualize anything you can relate to without it seeming a little old-fashioned or silly for it to even exist

in my salem world buggy / skuggy being trans was me slapping it on them because i was trans and i wanted to connect with my ocs. i honestly havent revisited them in a while so i forgot a lot but i tried to work it into their stories but mostly ended up thinking longer on it for skuggy as kind of just him crawling out of a bad home situation and him being able to transition finally being his foot down on earth away from that old life. like shedding a shell into a new one. yeah things still suck and i'm heading for a town that's going to kill me, but i finally am on t and i can start saving up for top surgery. but after that point in his life it fades to the background and it's just normal. i think my salem folks are the closest ill get to being able to explore a genuine transgender experience

farrow is weird because the entirety of his life he's been kind of accustomed to playing this certain role and sticking with it, and losing himself in the tough guy facade of uncaring manipulative loner that he just becomes it and doesn't see another way until he's literally killed for being a prick and reduced to a speck that can't hold that facade anymore after being put into his place. as a child he was androgynous and didn't care about it but was still a boy. but the moment he's forced to stop revolving his life around the sole purpose of survival (in fact probably now the opposite) and has to be forced to face what actually lies beneath that facade he's implanted into himself , that nonbinary elephant in the room suddenly gets very very big and loud and he's forced to stare it straight down. i explored his very disorienting confused tiptoes into gender expression and identity mostly in private because i got shy being anything less than funniejokes about my ocs, but it was really just "i think i might be nonbinary but i have a job so i cant think abt that rn" "oh shit im unemployed im fighting these fucking demons" "why did being called this term awaken something in me" "oh god help me". i think i explored and pushed it the absolute most in band au where it's the most similar to modern day reality and just got to make him a little thing. but it's kind of the same thing where while i did get to explore his gender presentation and his thoughts on it and how other people close to him reacted to it or affirm it it i don't ttthink it has a lot of bearing on his character. which is fine i guess. i dont know how i feel about characters who's entire basis is being trans. but i guess that is literally just how it is irl being a stigmatized group you are just Defined by it bc it affects Everything In Your Gd Life. idk where im going with this

idk the thing that prompted this is just thinking about my lobcorp ocs because it is so. HARD. to relate to any of their trans experiences or write anything resembling a modern trans experience with them. they live in a hyperdeveloped future, why Wouldn't they have access to hrt and gender affirming surgeries. why Would it have any bearing on them what gender they are, they have to go die in a Nest or smtng tomorrow. i think a lot about eva and griffin and even like myukeu or roger/mags. i'm trying to go back and think about how it might've been for eva growing up but the most i can think is that he probably just stayed in the closet until he built up the courage and his parents were just "oh okay cool i guess. maybe you wont be limited by the glass ceiling now. finish your damn homework" like just such a anticlimatic end. (but even that response implies any sort of gender imbalance or acknowledgement of gender in this world and honestly, with all the women taking leadership and even mastermind roles in this world there is no way that's anything close to canon. also i dont want to write in fuckin misogyny. but thats the thing in a modern au His Parents Would Fucking THink Like That his identity gender and all takes a backseat to his Purpose. but its hard to write that when Everyone Is Just Like That with gender). like yeah i can write this character juggling work and arranging pharmacy prescriptions and fitting in a daily t shot into his routine and having to recover after top surgery but once he's socially transitioned even if he doesn't pass it doesn't have a bearing or effect on him because It Doesn't Matter Here You're An Employee All The Same. his identity is an afterthought in the corporation. the only time it comes up is when he befriends other trans people and has that "oh hey" feeling of solidarity or when years down the line he's getting freaky with julian and has to explain no an abnormality did not scar me those are surgery scars. im trans. and then it's fine

idk this is a very looseform ramble because in the end i don't know what my actual thoughts are. i guess i yearn for just a mundane trans experience. which is why i'm so drawn to band au / modern aus of any kind because it lets me write these people being Very Mundane Normal People. sure writing them in doomed time loops and turning into giant monsters and harnessing powers beyond comprehension is fun but also i really like writing mundane shit even if its boring to read. why do you think i spamdraw post-lobcorp so much. theyre normal. anyways time to brainrot more over band au than the actual canon

also if there have been any mentions/discussions of gender in projmoon games i would 100% be down to read an analysis or whatever. this isnt a projmoon haterpost believe it or not it's just me thrashing within the nonexistent box i've put myself in.

i like mundane modern trans characters. i like trans characters that look like people i would meet irl and just Exist the way we do irl. i dont care if there is no transphobia in the world i just need to see them being mildly inconvenienced by having to do advanced aerobics to take off their binder or experience gender euphoria after wearing a tank top and jeans. i wanna see them having a sleepover and getting their nails painted for the first time and just going "oh my god i can actually be pretty thats just something i can do". idk. i think i just want to write more trans joy into my stories it's just hard when there's a more prevalent ongoing plot going on (hell timeloop and melting away of identity)

[lutiaslayton]

Hey guys, I felt like giving you a bit of a heads up: now that the transcription of the Japan-exclusive Eternal Diva novel has been completed, I am now working on its translation. And I thought -- hey, why not share this translation here as I go?

The website's translation is meant to be as accurate as possible and is filled with annotations and comparisons with the Japanese version, but if all we're interested in is just reading the darn novel like it's actually meant to be (read: a story that is actually enjoyable to read), then this translation really isn't going to make that happen.

(Just look at this. This is awful. Translation accuracy: 9/10. Reading enjoyment: WhatTheHeckIsThis /10. Do not recommend.)

---

So yeah, I'm actually working on two English translations 👀 First one is from the website and meant primarily to study Japanese and (sometimes) get the juicy lore, and the second one will be posted here! This second translation will actually be meant to be read like a novel / fanfiction, in the sense that I'll rephrase things and try to make it as enjoyable as can be. It may mean that a thing or two might be changed along the way, but I'll try to keep my creative juice under control and try to stay as close to the original as possible.

If anyone wants to criticise this translation and bring suggestions if you think that I took too many liberties, feel free to let me know so we can rephrase things! It'd be much cooler if this were a collaborative project rather than the work of just one person who might end up putting in her own biases, whether consciously so or not.

---

I can't tell when exactly I will start uploading since I'd like to have some buffer before starting, but when I do, I'll try to have some sort of schedule. Like one "chapter" or so every week, something like that. (The novel doesn't have "chapters," but it does have sections with titles. So I guess we might as well call those "chapters" for commodity.)

Anyway, that's pretty much all I wanted to say -- just a little teaser and some context for something I've been working on and will hopefully start posting soon-ish, and which I'd like to share with you guys as soon as I can! It'd be cool if this could be something I could post while my PhD is slowly ending and my workload is getting heavier and heavier -- just imagine if I had some buffer that I'd just put in my queue, and then boom, a chapter a week while I'm off dying while preparing my PhD defence and whatnot hahaha. No promises, but it would be really cool if I could pull it off.

[twothpaste]

Hiiii Clark I don’t know if you do or if you’re still taking these but I’d be interested to hear any thoughts or hcs you had about Leder :0

oh man, oh man. being asked about leder by the guy who did The Best (Only?) Written Leder Ever??? half the stuff sloshing around in my brain about this guy was written by you!! i'll bow my head gently and share what i've got, though.

i first played mother 3 a decade ago. to this day, The Leder Scene still gives me chills. i know some players aren't fond of the way the game delivers its big exposition dump, and i can't blame 'em one bit. but for me personally, it's an ethereal moment in time. something about the way the scene is set, the music, the red lighting, how solemn and straightforward it is. the way you first see leder's chained up legs, before climbing upstairs to hear him speak for the first time, and weave the whole story back together. lucas hearing it from a quiet old friend, of all people. the way he pauses every few lines to to ask if lucas understands, and kiddo has to politely nod along like "yep, y'can keep going," as leder painstakingly re-arranges his entire reality. the dawning sense of pity for this humble unsung martyr, and his broken community, and the world at large. agh. there's just nothing quite like it.

my favorite detail, one i latch onto, is that he's surrounded by books. on a literal level, i figure, aw, at least he had somethin' to read, all that time he spent locked up. symbolically, though? they must represent history, yeah? the one and only guy who remembers, imprisoned with volumes of forbidden knowledge. were these his own books? brought from the old world, and secretly stashed away somewhere? were they brought from different eras through porky's phase distorter? i feel like the former's more sentimental, but either works. got a postgame headcanon that leder founds a library in tazmily. books become a precious commodity in the postgame world. not a lot of written word remains from back before everything went to hell. they take whatever they can find and salvage, be it history or science textbooks or novels or picture books. their community'd be wise to cherish, preserve, and share this stuff, instead of locking it away. the idea of a valuable lesson learned. leder naturally being the one to foster a space where history can finally breathe.

i like to think he and lucas could become close friends. kid lucas would've always taken the time to greet leder, and leder would've always answered with a smile. postgame, my lucas develops a fervent interest in history, and stories about his community. i think he'd ache for that context. kid's got a sense of duty, too, not to repeat the same mistakes. leder'd be relieved to finally get everything off his chest. and, seeing the egg as a fatal mis-step, he'd be eager to amend tazmily's greatest mistake. giving future generations the opportunity to learn from their past. besides, leder n' lucas are both mild-mannered folks with a lot on their minds. i imagine the two of 'em could spend hours talking, or listening. maybe share some green tea. lucas goes exploring in the ruins of the world, and brings back tattered volumes for leder's library. they talk about novels they've read, and the good ol' days (with bittersweet retrospect), and hinawa.

on account of his absurd height, leder's probably got some sort of fantastical bone condition that makes it difficult to travel or get around much. on account of his age and world-weariness, maybe he's just fine with that. i imagine he's got a quiet, brittle, crackly voice, and you kinda have to listen extra close to make out every word. some of his neighbors are sheepish to get to know him again. but once their memories start returning, they recall him as a near n' dear pillar of their apocalyptic escapades. they eventually come bearing apologies, somber gratitude, and fond recollections. your premise of leder working as a sort of guidance counselor for recovering amnesiacs is brilliant - and the thought of him bearing that burden alone makes my heart ache. that he'd give himself up for so long, on behalf of everyone else, then go right ahead and selflessly do it all over again?? it's so heavy, but so real. i can definitely picture him falling back into old resolute habits, forgetting he's a deeply wounded person who needs time and care to recover too. maybe his fellow steadfast souls, like lucas' family, duster, my favorite guy bronson perhaps, could eventually lend him some shoulders to lean on.

[russilton]

Hi, I hope this isn't weird, but as I see this kind of discourse from one of my favourite author I just wanted to check in if that's a kind of thing you're dealing with too. Without any judgement to anyone. Is it really that important to you guys that we leave comments? Aren't kudos enough? And do you agree that writers have to answer to comments?

It’s alright anon I figured I might get a message like this and I do appreciate having the chance to share my piece because I utterly agree with Susi on every part.

Something that’s worth understanding is I do not have a single artist or writer friend who doesn’t face this issue. Every single one one them, without fail, puts their heart on the line to create and share fan work, and all of them, myself included, struggle with a lack of response. Every gif maker, writer, artist, edit crafter, web weaver, all of them live for the positive comments we receive, the praise. I don’t know a creative without a praise kink, frankly.

This has been true for every fandom I’ve been in since I started posting art online in 2011, and fic in 2017, but it is ESPECIALLY present in F1 RPF because the space is so small, and usually people are so used to clinging to anonymity that the space feels even smaller.

Long discussion under the cut, because I wanted to try and honestly explain the mental process behind why authors and artists ask for a comment.

Speaking from my own experience now (that I’d still put money on being a similar experience for others), posting work of any kind online is a bargain. Yes you do it for yourself in part, but if it was just for myself I wouldn’t post it. When you post, you make the mental deal of “am I willing to accept potential hate or disinterest in this, for the chance to receive love and praise on it”. If you’ve been here a while you’ve seen the anons I’ve received at times; transphobic, homophobic, or just plain hateful. Some were too hateful to even post. I have had an Instagram page make a collage of my art just to laugh at it. But I keep posting, because for me, the joy and community I receive from comments and tags on my work make it worth that bargain. There’s some work that isn’t worth the potential backlash to post. That’s why any of the nsfw art I draw never leaves my close mutuals. I’m not willing to share it online when the result of it would pale against the risk.

Creative work is a deeply personal and heart baring process. It cannot be done easily some days. Yes it’s fun and funny and entertaining at times, but most times when I’m writing, I end up stood utterly alone in my own mind with myself. I cant write if I’m too depressed, because that experience of being alone with myself is too painful. Even on a good day it can be hard. So when I choose to go to that place, remain alone to pour my mind into something I write or draw, it is an exhausting labour of love. It takes hours, I’m not a fast worker, some people are faster than me, some are even slower. I’m alone for all of it.

And so when you put that all together. The work, the creative process, the editing, the cleaning, the preparing for posting, the process of tagging and sorting work so it’ll be seen, then self promoting… the least we can ask for in return is a comment?

You have to understand, kudos or likes are great, but it’s a hand sticking out of the void and giving you a thumbs up. It’s silent, faceless, impression-less. Imagine sending your family a deeply personal message and the response you get is just “👍”. Yeah it’s technically a response, but it’s disproportionate to the Labour afforded beforehand. People posting online are seeking a human connection, that little snap of closeness all human beings through history have craved. A kudos doesn’t really satisfy that craving. I would rather get 20 kudos on fic, but every single one has a comment, than 1000 silent ones. It’s just a number, it takes half a second to press that button and move on. It makes you feel like a cheap commodity that’s consumed and spat out, and that doesn’t even speak for the shame of a thousand eyes looking at your work and saying nothing at all.

When you comment or leave a tag, it shows me you took a second to absorb what I’ve showed you. It slowed you down, made you pause or take a breath, it DID something to you, just like it did something to me to make it. That’s a connection, that snap of a bond. Myself and that commenter now share something, and usually it’s a simple act of gratitude that you see all the work I’ve done to give you something, even if the comment is just “I really liked this!thank you for writing it”. It’s a paltry amount of work compared to what happened to get us there. But I feel less alone for just a little while, just like that fic did for you.

I understand that is still hard to do on occasion. You may be tired, you may feel over exposed or sick, but again you have to remember how hard that creative worked to give you something. On tumblr at least you can still reblog without a comment and increase the chance of someone else doing so. Ao3 doesn’t have that. Even when people filter by kudos they still have to be looking to read something with those tags. It doesn’t do much for the author who is sat faced with numbers. Their work made you feel, think, or just escape your own mind, by commenting, you are giving them the chance to have a moment of the same.

I have a screenshot folder full of comments that have made my day. It’s packed with the words that kept me going, when I doubted I could write at all, when I wondered if my art was good enough. They make a meaningful impact on my life the way I hope my work does for others.

And then you have to understand how… ungrateful it seems, to have people go “well you don’t reply fast enough, so I’m not going to comment.” I understand we all want that connection again, of a reply, and that’s why most authors TRY to do so!

But that author or artist has spent hours creating something for you, they have emotionally laboured and worked and bared themselves, asked you just to say something as your payment, and then you have asked to be paid for that honour? That’s like going into a store, paying for something, and then going “because you didn’t give me an extra gift for paying rather than stealing, I shall simply steal it in future”. That’s kind of insane right? Especially when the work you receive was hand made with love by the person sat in front of you.

I don’t know a single creative person on f1blr I haven’t seen go “I don’t know if posting this is worth it”. And that should worry people. If you come online and devour content without return, you are going to see people stop posting and walk away. I’ve seen it happen over and over and over. This isn’t the hungry hungry caterpillar, you aren’t 5, you don’t get to have your cake and eat it too if you don’t pay the baker who made it. In this case nobody in fandom has the incentive of making a living to continue. I can’t buy things for myself with comments. We don’t get paid. Instead they’re just going to stop sharing and return to only giving cake to people who respond. I’ve got art and fic I wrote only for my friends, because I wanted a reaction and giving it to them was a sure fire way to get it, because I trusted them.

If it becomes more effort to post than it does the return, I simply just won’t. I owe nothing to a faceless void, and so said void should try being less faceless. That’s all people are asking for.

[starseedfxofficial]

The Inflation Rate and Three White Soldiers: Mastering the Game with Ninja Tactics You know that feeling when inflation shows up like an uninvited guest, eating all your snacks and casually wrecking your trading strategies? Yeah, we’ve all been there. And when it does, the key is to face it head-on—not unlike meeting the dreaded three white soldiers candlestick pattern. But here’s where it gets fun: what if you could harness both the inflation rate and the "three white soldiers" pattern to pull a winning move? Buckle up (figuratively, not like that cliché advice), because today we’re diving into some game-changing tactics with a touch of humor and a lot of Forex wisdom. The Beauty of the Three White Soldiers (No, Not Some Medieval Knights) Before you think this is some old-time chivalry lesson, let me clarify: "three white soldiers" is a bullish candlestick pattern that makes traders’ hearts flutter like they’re on a first date. It’s one of the most powerful signals indicating a reversal in a bearish trend—basically, it’s the market equivalent of Rocky coming back for a sequel. And trust me, sequels don’t always work in Hollywood, but in Forex trading, this is the pattern to look for. The three white soldiers form over three consecutive trading sessions, with each candle opening within the previous body and closing higher. If you spot it, you’re staring at a possible reversal—like the moment you realize you shouldn’t have bought those clearance Crocs. But why does this matter during inflationary times? I’m glad you asked (or didn’t, but I’ll still answer). Inflation and Forex: The Frenemy You Love to Hate Inflation is like that one person who comes to your party and eats all the cake, except in Forex, it eats away at currency value. Central banks react to inflation rates by adjusting interest rates, which then has this trickle-down effect on currencies, commodities, and all things tradeable. When inflation rates start spiking, traders often start running for the hills—or at least toward less volatile currencies. But here’s where the "three white soldiers" pattern gets interesting. If inflation rate reports are due and expectations point toward rising inflation, it’s worth checking your charts for those three little soldiers. They might just be signaling that traders are re-entering the market after the inflationary storm, and that’s your golden ticket. Sort of like buying toilet paper before the next pandemic—you’re ahead of the curve. Turning Inflation to Your Advantage Most traders panic when inflation data comes in higher than expected. Understandable—nobody likes rising prices (especially not my grocery bill). However, for savvy traders who spot the "three white soldiers," it could be a signal to move bullishly into a previously battered currency. Imagine if traders saw the three white soldiers as the market’s own battle plan—holding the line against inflation fears, reclaiming some strength, and providing a glorious rally. So, what’s a step-by-step approach to incorporating inflation rates and three white soldiers into your trading strategy? - Keep an Eye on Economic Calendars – Know when inflation data is being released. Most major economic calendars will have this information, like that one friend who knows everyone’s birthdays. - Watch for Market Overreaction – Initial reactions to high inflation rates tend to be exaggerated, and that’s where opportunities pop up. The three white soldiers could very well emerge after the panic. - Check for Confluences – Look for the three white soldiers forming alongside strong support levels or key Fibonacci retracements—kind of like finding the only clean table in a crowded coffee shop. You’ll know you’re in a good spot. - Deploy a Tight Stop Loss – Because, let’s face it, while soldiers are valiant, they sometimes lose. Make sure your stop loss is placed at a comfortable level, and don’t let greed make decisions for you (like that time I bought seven avocado toasts instead of one). Why Most Traders Miss the Three White Soldiers During Inflation Reports Here’s the thing: most traders get distracted during inflation reports because they’re fixated on numbers, headlines, and trying to make sense of it all while drinking their tenth coffee of the morning. The beauty of the three white soldiers is that it doesn’t require you to be an economist or a market wizard—you just need to have patience, an eye for candlestick patterns, and the guts to ride out a reversal. It’s at this point where your emotions need to be kept in check—remember that it’s natural to feel like you’re walking into the lion’s den. But here’s where you can turn the tables by staying calm, cool, and collected. And by not hitting the panic sell button… (been there, done that, no t-shirt). Advanced Ninja Tactics for the Inflation Rate + Three White Soldiers Combo To really make this strategy sing, consider adding these pro-level moves to your arsenal: - RSI Divergence: If the Relative Strength Index (RSI) is showing divergence during a three white soldiers pattern, congratulations—you’ve just found a supercharged setup. It’s like finding out your flight upgrade comes with unlimited snacks. - Volume Confirmation: Volume spikes are key when you’re evaluating candlestick patterns. If the three white soldiers are marching in step with increased volume, you’ve got yourself a reliable bullish signal. - Multi-Timeframe Analysis: Don’t be afraid to zoom in and out across timeframes. Watching the three white soldiers on the daily timeframe and then confirming it with price action on the 4-hour chart is next-level stuff. Like rewatching a thriller from different perspectives—more clues, fewer surprises. The Unconventional Play: Combining Insights with StarseedFX Tools To wrap it all up, what’s better than having some advanced tactics up your sleeve? Having tools that practically do the heavy lifting for you. - Want to track the inflation rates and be ahead of everyone else? Check out our Latest Economic Indicators and Forex News here. - Need to sharpen your knowledge about candlestick patterns like "three white soldiers" and more advanced techniques? Our Forex Education resources are just a click away here. - Prefer real-time alerts and daily analysis? Why not join the exclusive StarseedFX Community for live insights and trading tips from experts? Come be a part of something great here. Embrace the Chaos, Learn from the Patterns In trading, inflation rate announcements are the equivalent of plot twists in your favorite TV series—sometimes confusing, occasionally scary, but ultimately an opportunity to be on the right side of the story. And the "three white soldiers" pattern? It’s that triumphant moment when things start to turn in your favor. As you journey through the world of Forex trading, remember this: patterns are your friend, inflation isn’t always the villain, and humor—yes, even humor—is an underrated asset when it comes to staying calm under pressure. If in doubt, just picture those three white soldiers riding to save your portfolio, shields held high and ready to take on the inflation monster. Now, go find that next opportunity, and let’s crush it—one pattern at a time. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated   Read the full article

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 1st January

And we've reached 1959! There's no reason for the first song in a given year to particularly represent how the rest of the year is going to go, musically - in fact, you're still close enough to Christmas that you might even get a less representative pick than usual - but still, it's hard not to take it a bit of a portent. So, what's it going to be this year, as the 1960s gradually inch one step closer?

The Day the Rains Came - Jane Morgan (peaked at Number 1)

Well, this is definitely a start to the year. I've never heard of Jane Morgan, and have no mental picture of her, but she's got a wonderful, brassy voice, warm and expansive and absolutely perfect for this track, which a big swinging jazz number, complete with brass and bluesy strings throughout. You could see Frank Sinatra giving it a stab - it would be quite a different stab, but it would work, you know? And Jane's no less capable, she's really in command of the whole track, giving it a grand sort of sweep that's really impressive.

To go with this, you get some lyrics that a less charitable listener might call overblown. Personally, I like it a lot, though, I think they give it quite an epic scope, a sort of pastoral, bucolic tale of renewal and the earth blossoming and thriving, as we hear that the day that the rains came down / Mother Earth smiled again, / Now the lilacs could bloom / Now the fields could grow greener. And it's not just the lilacs and the fields, we've got birds singing to Jane, willows stretching up to the heavens, mountain streams swelling, buds coming out. It's looking ahead to spring, and all this in parallel with a new love for Jane - the song even makes the metaphor explicit with lines about how as the young buds will grow / so our young love will grow.

It's an old-fashioned track, in some ways - there's certainly not a hint of rock and roll to it, it feels very much like it belongs in a slightly earlier era, though it was written in 1957, originally in French as Le Jour où la pluie viendra. A hit in French under Dalida, it was quickly translated into German, Italian and English. Jane herself recorded it in French and English, with the French version providing the B-side for this A-side. I do kind of wonder who the audience was for that. Like, did people genuinely want to listen to both versions? That seems... odd, to me. But what do I know.

I really enjoy the backing singers in this - or more specifically, I appreciate one backing singer in particular, which is the lady doing the quiet solo "ooooooh" bit over the final verse. She's got this ethereal, clear tone, a bit like a human theremin, and it's a weird but genuinely delightful sound, complementing Jane's slightly deeper, sultrier voice well. Hats off to whoever thought to include it.

Come On, Let's Go - Tommy Steele (10)

It feels like a little while since we've seen Tommy Steele, and since we last saw him, we've had the arrival proper of Cliff Richard, and with him presumably a bit of competition in the world of British rock and roll. So, how's Tommy going to respond?

With a Ritchie Valens cover, it seems. Which is theoretically a pretty solid move. Ritchie's career is in full swing in the US at this point, as a fresh-faced 17 year old and pioneer in the Chicano rock movement, incorporating various Mexican influences into American rock music. Most notably, this includes his cover of La Bamba, which you almost certainly have heard, even if you didn't know it was by him. It didn't quite make the UK charts, but still, he's a hot commodity. So covering one of his tracks seems like a good idea.

And it's... fine? This feels like a good, standard-issue rock and roll track, lots of energy and slightly nothing-y lyrics encouraging Tommy's love to come on, let's go, let's go, let's go little darlin' / And tell me that you'll never leave me / Come on, come on, let's go, again, again, again, again, again, again. So yeah, not winning any awards for the songwriting, though that's maybe the point, since you can project just about whatever you want onto all that. It could just be a song about wanting to dance together, it could be about being in love more generally, it could be about running away together, or driving somewhere, or potentially even something steamier. The lyrics aren't the point, it's more about the energy and the dynamism of it. It doesn't matter what Tommy's encouraging his baby to do, the key point is that they're young, amorously-minded and ready to go!

There's a slightly rough-around-the-edges sound to it all, but that might just be the recording quality of the version I'm listening to. You've got some very thumpy drums that slightly drown Tommy's voice out at points, you've got a bit of feedback on the guitar, which is set to be as twangy as possible, and you can also hear a bit of an echo on Tommy's voice from whatever microphone he's using. It's not a million miles from the effect you get when the Everlys or Buddy Holly are playing, the feeling that you're dealing with a few kids mucking around in a back room - there's a definite garage-y charm to it. And on the version I'm listening to, you also get a slightly fun cross-fade effect at the end, where it's almost like you're hearing the faintest strains of a different track, or just overtones from the guitar that come through stronger on the fade-out? I have no idea what's causing it, and it's super subtle, but I kind of like it, even if it's completely accidental. We are so not in the era of professional sound mixing and production, it's great.

I feel like Tommy sounds a lot more modern and up-to-date here than Jane did. He's not Cliff - there's a lot less ambition on show, and the song's a bit flimsy, in the grand scheme of things - but it's still youth-y and fun, and I could absolutely imagine the 1959 version of me enjoying dancing along to this.

A solid start to the year. If there's more of this in store for 1959, I will be perfectly happy. Neither was a stand-out classic, but both feel well in keeping with the sort of things we were hearing last year, and both have a fun, competent sort of energy. Nice to still see Tommy Steele there, too - I've been pleasantly surprised by a lot of these pre-Beatles British rock and rollers. Even if he's playing covers. Still, the "winner" for this week has to be Jane's lovely, commanding voice.

Favourite song of the bunch: The Day the Rains Came

[cryptid-killjoy]

Seven wild and free. Alive.

The concept wasn't something he even bothered to fathom while on the other side. Seven was one of those people that always made due.

Now here they were on their march back to living.

Seven noticed the changes in Feral from Nola too, but all that was null and void by the time he saw his mothers. The Fate Sisters were a commodity to most in the divination arts and all the mysteries of that entailed. To Seven though, his emotional baggage simply just being the son of Lachesis was what was heaviest in his chest. So many questions were in his head that were left unanswered. It was easy to see why he wasn't told considering the double agency and neutrality the group often maintained. He answered many of his own questions without ever asking. Still, there was something about not having that choice that fractures something inside. He wasn't even sure why it hurt. He wasn't even sure it would mean anything to Boogie family or any extention thereof whether genuine or just to use. Strange feelings it evoked. Quite bizarre actually.

Linen snapped him out of his thought train.

"Oh linen. What I would do for some linen."

Pierre was bringing up some great memories for both Zero and Seven. Doing. What he would do. Orgies. "Mm. Maybe it's who I would do? We get to have real sex again."

The kind they controlled, not Hellians. But, oh did he remember the orgy at the Magisterium? "Oh yeah, my man. First day, great day. Brigette right in there. A queen at the center of the utopia of love. What happened to that? Can't wait to get back to days like that."

Zero hadn't moved back due to Frankenstein chaos at that point so he missed that day, but his eyes widened as the only non-bi boy there, gay as all get out. "That's so you guys. Just as long as I can get back in the middle of you guys." Now they had Zero fantasizing of the old days. The three boys just wanted their lives back to the way it was.

Seven pulled a face when Pierre went on about flirting with his mothers. That was so Pierre. He had to laugh.

He put on his big boy pants and down the hill they went.

Piper would greet Pierre first. "There you are." She'd put her hands right up to his face, a look of adoration on her own. She was so excited. The anticipation for this was such a build up. She was so careful to smooth his hair over his brow, thumb his cheek. Then she'd shimmy her shoulders before she couldn't take it another moment and take him into another big hug, warm, and inviting, more clingy than Piper had ever been known to be. She didn't want to let go this time.

"Fashionably late. Always fashionable. My beautiful Pierre."

She kept looking at him more longingly than she had in the past, but it had been so very long. Perhaps? Plus, he said yes. Maybe somewhere in her there was a little part of her that needed to hear a yes unlike the day he closed her and the rest of the familiy away when he was up in his bedroom. He had Thomas in time loops, the whole bit, such a disasterous day. She tried so hard to convince him that day. It broke her heart. This time he said yes. It was enough. Her heart was settling. Maybe there was more to it, but that layer contributed.

"I'm just so glad you made it in time."

Yes, time. They were on a ticking clock tonight even for this.

Then there was Seven who was face to face with not only the two mother who had no idea he was coming, but the one that did. It was Atropos smiling wicked for managing to keep her secret while Clotho squealed at the sight of their boy. His biological mother stood silent too taken aback with her hand on her chest.

It took his breath away because when he met her eyes it was like he knew she knew. Of course she knew he knew now. They all knew he knew everything.

"Uh." A sound of some sort started to drop out of Seven's mouth but she stopped it.

"Later son."

Then the other piled in for the hugs Zero was expecting and he looked over at Pierrie in that told ya, there it is, kind of way, like they just knew it was going to happen. He followed Pierre's idea and piled on for a group hug whether he was wanted or not. It got the ol' witch laughing at the rememberance of how this friend of his was never far behind.

"I knew." She'd boast one last time and gave Pierre and Zero a too proud of herself look with a twinkle in the eye she had left. "How are you, Pierre? Enjoy your travels?" She'd always liked her son's friend and spoke as if he'd merely been on a vacation.

Then she'd pass the magic eye over to Lachesis, the Fate sister of the past. This was Seven's biological mother.

The Fate sister of the present with her arms around Seven would say, "We should spare no time."

Then the three would glare at each other with some discord on their faces and huddle up like a team to chat among themselves.

Piper got a little nervous because she already promised Pierre that Seven could be alive too. She got the green light from one sister so she assumed it was a green light all around. Now she wasn't so sure. Luckily, they were just discussing which timeline's thread to pull for Seven. It was a delicate matter to match if they were to make such an exception. When they finished their talk they'd come out of the huddle with unanimous.

"We have decided. We are ready. Seven first."

Piper agreed. "Let's get right to it." She wanted to waste no time and was slightly annoyed at Seven being first because this was her thing, but it was their power she was playing off of. She had no room to complain.

Lechesis would take Piper's hand. "We'll get you as close as we can."

"Yes. I know."

"You can do this."

Piper gave a firm a nod. Then she looked at Pierre. "You have to trust me. I can only take one of you at a time. I won't be long. Just a few moments to you here. Then Seven and I will be back and it shall be done. Then it'll be your turn. When it's your turn it'll seem longer." She looked over at Seven so he understood she was also explaining it to him too. But she knew if anyone would understand how strange time manipulation could feel it was Pierre, so she didn't bother going into great detail.

Then there was Seven. He looked to his friend Pierre for the first time after seeing his mothers again. He looked more in awe than the first time Pierre opened his mouth. "I think I'm still stuck on you pulled his off. Here goes nothing. See you on the other side?" He thought he was being clever since they were already dead and now they were coming home.

That one got his mothers' cackling. They always liked a nice pun or joke. Atropos would chime in, "Well, the chicken did cross the road to be there."

"Last time you take tourtist recommendations from a chicken eh son?"

"You're telling me." Seven laughed a bit feeling more at home at least surrounded in their old humor.

The fate of the future quick witted as ever said, "Oh, I don't know. Something tells me he's braver than he used to be," as she glanced so sly and affectionately all the same at Pierre.

"Come on girls, focus." Another would pull a dull and lifeless thread from her pocket, one with two frayed ends.

It dawned on Seven then how his mothers fought and refused to cut his thread to realize the state of his string. Can't fight fate. A reaper always comes. It touched his heart anyway.

Then another Fate would pull out a still shiny colorful thread brimming with light and roll it off a spool inspecting it closely.

"Here. Right here." She'd show Piper the right spot.

This is when Piper would finally stop clinging to Pierre. He'd probably be able to feel her recluctance to leave his side. She'd reach her hand out one last time and squeeze it. "Really. I won't be long." The fear of losing this opportunity was real. Everything had to go just right and also before the clock on the night ran them out of time.

When Piper would leave his side Zero used that opportunity to take it. Something about the veil being extra thin and his own emotions being extra had his body just as thin. It kept flickering from his tangible state, to his skeletal, to his ghostly right at Pierre's side. He didn't let go either even as it continued to fluxuate. Used to being Dr. Frankenstein's Igor type helper he couldn't help but keep his eyes on those strings. He was paying close attention to detail even if he didn't understand it all.

But, this was it. Piper would take Seven's hand and pull out a purple hourglass quite similar to one given to Pierre. As long as there weren't any last words from Pierre to stop anything or change his mind it would all begin. The magic that would have Zero and Pierre in anticipation for just a few minutes. Five at the most. But, for Zero it would be the longest five minutes of his lifetime.

It terrified him when he realized they weren't traveling to the netherworld. Zero thought he was going to ghost dog out and run after them in skeletal form. He thought he'd tag along for the whole thing, whatever was going to be done. Whatever this magic was - was beyond his reach. Something about that was beyond creepy for him and Zero was hard to unnerve when it came to spooky stuff. Yet here they were in anticipation and this time it was Zero pulling a bit of the Scooby clutching, not a full Scoob with a jump, but he had his full body turned in on him while his kept peeking out. It was just beyond his scope of understanding. He was like a nervous dog with separation anxiety waiting for his other owner to return.

“Hell Maketh the Man,” Pierre said, always letting Seven stroke his ego, fill it up higher. It was probably the only reason why he was sane in any sense after being down in the Netherworld. This guy right here, this touch of familiarity, this touch of home, this touch of love.

“Back, back,” Pierre affirmed as they made their way towards the doors, hardly anyone looking at their backs as they left the great hall. “Like living, breathing, witches again, Seven, free and wild.”

He could imagine it now. His own body. Feeling the sunshine on his skin again. Going to Paris, shopping with Piper, sunbathing at Deauville Beach with the boys - Zero always looked like he needed a tan. Of course, he assumed that somehow, he would be rich again. Life without money was just such an out-there concept that he could not imagine it. Even if Piper were his sugar-mommy, he could live with that.

Just to feel the damn sun again. That’s something that his mind kept going back to. It was hot in hell, definitely. The humidity fucked with his hair. Made it all poofy. Almost made him look like Bastien. But it didn’t have the same sort of heat as the sun. It wasn’t warm, and welcoming, and nurturing and playful. It was … just fucking fire.

He was out there in the night air again, looking at the streetlights and the city that was half familiar. Looks like some things have changed around here, but he wasn’t bothered by that. He was a little curious about his house, wondering what had happened to it. Last he had heard was from Seven, when it had been taken over by the homeless and most of his stuff was trashed. If he stuck around in Feral, maybe he’d be able to reclaim it. He liked that elevator thingamajig. That had been fun.

He was bouncing on his feet like a damn school girl, the three of them still close together, huddled, as they made their way down the mountain. “As much as I do love the leather-daddy look in Hell, my body is craving some linen, big time,” He agreed with Seven, thinking about decking the three of them out in diamonds once he got rich again.

Oh yeah, the school had closed down. It felt like it’s been AGES since Pierre had to think about school. The last time was when he was basically doing a bad cosplay as a jock, had quit the Football team, and became the school loser. If he had been in his own skin during that time, Pierre wouldn’t have been able to handle the humiliation. But since it had been Ronno … it was kinda funny.

“Halloweentown was the shit,” Pierre agreed. He’d been there for a short time when the school closed and a lot of them had to transfer over to Halloweentown temporarily. “But the Magisterium was pretty sick too. Hey, remember that orgy we all had right outside? Now that was beautiful.”

Memories at the Magisterium flooded back as they got closer to the Forbidden Forest, and the demolished building, all of it cleaned away by now. Turned into something else. Hanging out with Seven. With Piper. Giving her a piggyback the first day that they met. School dances, Zero. The Valentines Day dance and making out with River Laveau. Now, who would have thought it would have been that duo that had the shortest lives?

“You should,” Pierre said. “Open it up. Shit, if I get my money back, I’ll invest in that, dude.” He said this all sincerely, imagining it with Seven. He’d gotten a lot more comfortable with the idea of being around the dead - even if he was still a bit skittish about some things. You don’t get too used to things in Hell, that’s why it’s Hell.

He was still thinking about those things when he took note of their surroundings, of the voices. “Dude, it’s your moms,” He said, nudging Seven, having no idea that they were going to be there either. Seven, the one who had enough moms for the three of them. He nearly chuckled as that thought came into his mind. He wasn’t nearly as worried as Seven seemed to be, rubbing his hand on his shoulder. “Come on, we’ll all give them a little love if it makes you feel less embarrassed,” He raised his eyebrows. “We’ll do a big group hug.”

Because if Seven knew Pierre, a bit of flirting with his moms was not totally out of the question.

That confident grin stayed as he walked down to Piper, his boys in tow. He gave a friendly nod to Seven’s mothers, and of course he was looking over Piper again - she seemed to glow in the moonlight - and then there was the tree. By instinct, he started to hum the song that he had written for her, played for her down by this tree an age ago. Though some of it had been cut away for Oogie’s tables, many of the limbs still remained, stretching up and strong towards the sky despite the ever-burning fire within.

He was right up against Piper’s side, gently kissing the side of her head. “You know us, fashionably late,” He hummed into her raven-colored hair.

[mrwinterr]

Over & Over (Again) - Part 1

Pairing(s): Pornstar!Pietro Maximoff x Female Reader (mention of Pornstar!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader) 

Summary: You and Bucky are set to work with each other again, but insecurities and shit. Read Part 1 here. 

Warnings: Adult themes. | Smut 18+

Disclaimer: I still don’t know how the porn industry works. We’re here for a good time, not a long time. 

A/N: Fuck it. I wrote this and never finished it, but why should I deprive anyone who happens to want read this AU? Also, feel free to visualize either portrayals of Pietro in this piece. Enjoy! 

“Now, I want a full report on everything that happens on that set, okay?” Wanda requests as she follows you out from your walk-in closet, where you had grabbed a new pair of lingerie for the said film you’re currently packing for, and back into your bedroom to stuff it into your suitcase at the last minute.

She doesn’t see the humorous roll of your eyes, but she knows you made some sort of playful gesture because of Natasha, who was lounging on your bed, and the smirk adorning her face. As your mentor, she still checked with you each time you left to film and you were always grateful for her advice. Her support is exactly what you’d be needing too because you were booked to film a scene for another prominent director - Tony Stark. For that reason, Wanda was eager to seek out any kind of insight she could get from you on how to continue in outing her rival.

“Let the girl focus on her real job, Wan,” Natasha says trying to get her off your back. It wasn’t actually a bother, but rather amusing to you that she and Tony would go to such lengths to outdo the other. He paid a hefty price with Natasha for her to allow him to book you for his next film. More importantly, she wouldn’t have steered you in the wrong direction or thrown you out there if you weren’t ready.

Your shoot with Bucky struck gold within the porn community and the momentum you picked up didn’t slow its roll. Just as you were told, you were a hot commodity! Your ranking skyrocketed, you were getting booked left and right, started working with bigger names and companies, which all meant you were getting paid more. It’s been quite the journey and the break you’ve been looking for since you started a career in the adult film industry.

“You’re right,” Wanda agrees, letting out a big sigh to alleviate her worry. “What am I really worried about? No one can top that film I did with her and Bucky,” then flashes a small, complacent smile to the two of you.

“Yeah, except maybe a sequel of her and Bucky…” Natasha counters with another knowing smile of her own.

“What?!” Wanda asks, bewildered, eyes bugging, the worry starting to creep back in on her face.

“Oops, I guess we forgot to mention to Wanda who your co-star was, didn’t we?” Natasha directs the question to you, getting a kick out of Wanda’s reaction. You shake your head at your friends before zipping up your bag and setting it on the ground, ready for you to roll on out with.

“How could you forget such a huge detail like that?” She questions, and it doesn’t stop there. “I can overlook the fact that he’s paying your expense to a lavish city in Europe, but not her and Bucky again!”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Wanda,” you say so casually with a shrug and you don’t miss the dead unamused look on her face because she knows what you said was complete bullshit to her. The now infamous video had been seen by millions and in counting, hell, you were already getting early nominations for it. Wanda feared that she wouldn’t be able to follow up to it and now her rival, who is just as acclaimed is getting a shot.

“Okay, what I’m trying to get at is that it doesn’t matter who I work with,” you explain with a different approach.

“Exactly. She was the star of that video not Bucky,” Natasha backs you up.

“Yes, but the chemistry between you two is unmatched!” Wanda insists. She’s not wrong. The connection and vibes both you and Bucky gave off was so authentic and believable that it made it a hit and for fans to beg for more in the comments.

“I don’t know…” you pipe up unexpectedly. Sex with Bucky was great and if you could you’d do it over and over again with him, but while you too were convinced you had great chemistry with him, you also didn’t want to feel type casted to work with one person your whole career.

The silence from your friends only indicated for you to continue. They were rather astonished because they knew there just had to be more of you and Bucky than you weren’t letting on.

“I mean...I work well with anyone,” you say, trying to make a point. Who were you trying to convince though? Unless you fess up and swallow your pride, you couldn’t take that back and had to just finish that thought process. “I had great reviews on the new video I did with Pietro!”

Well, you weren’t lying there. It was one of your “milestone” videos so to say. The kind that showed off where you were now, what kind of things have you learned now that you’re a “star” and people played into that, seeing the newbie become pro and only get better from then on.

“Yeah, about that…” Natasha speaks up, “...is having sex with him the slightest bit weird for you?”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, puzzled with her genuine curiosity.

“In a way, it’s like you’re having sex with Wanda,” she clarifies.

“We may be twins, but that’s totally not the same thing!” Wanda interjects.

“We work in porn, there’s nothing weird about anything,” you answer hoping that settles it. The more you worked in this industry, the more comfortable you became with things that may seem strange to most. Wanda and Pietro were both in this line of business and no doubt know about each other's work, but that’s the kind of thing that grows on you in the porn industry.

“It’s totally not the same thing and as I was saying Pietro and I get good views, Steve and I get good views...need I go on?” continuing your spiel that who your co-star is makes no difference at all.

“To an extent, yes, you do,” Natasha compromises, but you know your friends aren’t all the way convinced yet, “...but you’re still not denying it.”

“Whatever happened between you and Bucky?” Wanda asks the million dollar question. You were able to avoid the topic for a few months now, but a part of you knew with their track record, they’d bring it back up, “...I thought things were working out for you two.”

“Yeah, well I thought so too until he started ghosting me,” you reply with a hint of bitterness and annoyance at the unpleasant feeling of how his actions left you resurfacing.

“Hold on! He what?!” Natasha asks. How dare he, right? The guy makes a show of how infatuated he was with you during a shoot of all places and some months later tosses you aside like the others? Natasha was seeing red only because she was protective of you. Had she known, she wouldn’t have given you off like that again to Bucky to boost his profile.

“He just stopped replying to me one day,” you finally reveal. You don’t know where or when it went wrong, but who were you kidding? Could you two really have made a relationship work while working in the porn industry?

“When?” She continues to dig for more, Wanda leaning over intrigued by this admission.

As far as all parties were considered, everything was looking good between you and Bucky. The pair of you did go out on a few dates, recorded some home videos to upload, some private and others exclusive paid content. During all that, you were absolutely happy with your life. Your career took off, you had the best support from your friends and colleagues, and on top of that a sweet and sexy guy by your side. It was becoming believable that you two could make it work...except apparently some feelings weren’t put aside well enough.

“I don’t know…” you sigh and plop down on the end of your bed exhausted of this topic and the thought of Bucky, “...probably around the time he flew out of the country for a shoot and I was filming that sequel with Pietro.”

You were starting to reconsider this whole shoot now. Did he meet someone else on that trip? Someone better than you? Still, he could’ve at least had the decency to let you down. You can tell your friends are absorbing this new information as Wanda gently pats and runs a hand down your arm, noticing the light distress that’s overcome you. You turn your head to look towards Natasha from behind after hearing her make a noise suggesting she has an idea.

“What is it, Nat?” Wanda asks for you.

“Wilson said Barnes has a hard time watching you perform with other guys...” she starts out.

“That’s ridiculous! We do this for a living,” you’re quick to respond, not even entertaining the mere possibility of what she’s presenting to the table.  

“He’s jealous!” Wanda blurts out connecting the dots, “...of you and Pietro!” Both of them looked at each other, carrying a proud look on their faces at believing they had it all figured out.

There’s a befuddled look on your face and you’re wondering if that could be it. Bucky always played it so smooth and cool with you, never showed any signs of jealousy before, but if you look back hard enough, you start to make sense of the timeline.

The whole duration of your “fling” with Bucky was when you were doing solo videos and/or girl-on-girl scenes. It was an experimental turn of your career and when he flew off to work on his next big project, you accepted the scene with Pietro.

“So, welcome back! It’s been a year since you’ve been on this couch,” the director states the obvious and to which you smile at, reminiscing that very day.

You were so green and nervous, and in some aspect you still felt that way. The sole purpose of you being asked to come back here was to show off what you’ve learned from being an adult film performer. Newly found confidence was the point of this shoot and not so much of what you could take, but what you could offer.

The only sense of comfort you were given then and now is from the person sitting next to you. Pietro was your first co-star and you were put at ease because you always felt safe with him. He calmed your mind and nerves on day one and taught you to take only what you like from any other guy you’d work with later down the road. You loved being in Pietro’s company and you had loads of fun working with him, but that’s just what it was, work. The relationship with him was strictly professional.

“You look amazing!” The director boasts.

“Thank you,” you respond modestly and put on a show of bashfulness.

“You’ve really made a name for yourself since then haven't you?”

“I guess…” you shrug playfully and continue to downplay. You’re always being told to just take the damn compliment but everything you’ve managed to achieve in a short amount of time was still so surreal to you.

“You’re kidding, right?” Pietro butts in jokingly.

“It’s only been a year!” You argue, shaking your head at him. There’s a smile on your face that you fail to conceal from him because it’s hard to legit be mad around Pietro when you’ve only felt happiness in his presence. He was very dear to you.

“And? A lot can happen in a year!” He counters, poking a hole through your logic and literally your side, causing you to squirm into his arms.

He got you there, alright, and the subtle smirk on his striking face, blue eyes luring you into the deep end, only pushed your buttons. 

Okay, if they’re all so adamant that you’re this new Pro…you’d show them.

~

“You didn’t see that coming, did you?” You jab at Pietro, during the scene, and using one of his most used lines against him, after you successfully overtake him out of nowhere.

With him against the backrest of the couch, your legs straddling his hips, effectively trapping him in place, hands braced on top of his pecs. Well into this scene, he’d let his guard down for a few seconds after some deep and good thrusts of his hips into yours. When his quick pace began to falter, that was just the opening you needed to shine.

“Fuck me,” he pleads breathlessly, his fingers squeezing at the flesh of your hips. You feel his cock twitch up against your wet folds and your body naturally reacting by grounding eagerly on him. A satisfied hum escapes both your mouths almost at the same time as you reach down to guide him back inside your heat.

Being on top used to make you feel self conscious, especially when you were being filmed, but it was a power move you learned to master. Everyone loved a good view of the action, the way your greedy cunt dripped for the lucky cock that would find its way snug inside you and not to mention your ass and how it bounced from each force.  

You roll your hips deliciously, loving the way your clit drags against the base of his cock and how the tip scratches along your walls. Pietro’s head rests on the edge of the backrest, you brush away his matted hair from his forehead to look at him. You’re absolutely reeling on the blissed out expression on his face, eyes half-lidded, eyebrows slightly furrowed, sweat building up along his hairline, and his lips parted in want.

Of course, you weren’t super human and your stamina could only take you so far, the scene ends with your back flat on the couch again, one leg propped upright against Pietro’s chest and the other hanging off the edge of the couch.

“Look at you…” Pietro comments, admiring the white streaks of his warm cum strewn across your midsection, up as far as your breasts, while he slowly tugs at his sensitive cock of every drop he has right then for you. The last bit of it that dribbles from the tip and pooling onto your skin causes you to moan inwardly, almost setting you ablaze once more. 

“You made me cum so fast!” You comment letting out little fits of giggles and covering your exhausted face, almost embarrassed. Your pussy was still tingling as your orgasm coursed and rocked right through you so suddenly. The fourth wall never existed in this shoot because your amusement is only heightened when the director joins in on the joke pretending that Pietro ruined everything by unintentionally making quick work of it.  

You’ve had lots of great sex with others prior to today, but Pietro knew where to aim his cock just at the right spot better than most. At first, it made you feel a bit pathetic that you’d come almost instantly with him, but you made up for it in other aspects.

“No one has ever made me cum that quick,” you mention rather shyly.

He beams at the compliment, plants a few soft kisses on your calf before letting your leg down to carefully hover over you. He gently caresses your cheek, before reminding everyone who he was, “they don’t call me Quicksilver for nothing.”

“You’re such a dork!” You tease, another smile breaking through, then start running your fingers through the thick fluid that stained your hot skin before bringing them up and engulfing them in your mouth sucking on his essence. He lets out a low groan, entranced by your sexual allure, watching your throat contract as you swallow and the way your fingers slip all nice, wet and clean from your lips.

“Oh, you’re a star, alright,” he says when you’ve finished cleaning up his mess and smiling down proud of how much you’ve improved since your first scene. Thriving on the praise, you bring him back in closer by the nape of his neck, your fingers digging into his silver hair on the back of his head, as your lips press to his in a sweet kiss.

“How quick can you make me cum again?” You challenge, locking your legs around him for more.

The skin of his knuckles turned white from the death grip he doesn’t realize he has on the small screen of his phone, having watched your next best film to date. His blood curdled knowing that someone seemed to outperform him.

Fucking Pietro Maximoff, and his talent to get his co-stars off in an instant as if he had a magic touch or something. No, what bothered Bucky the most was how not only flawless you were, but your raw talent. Everything you did looked so effortless on your part, like you were born to be in front of the camera and adored by.

After watching the movie a few times, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d let his feelings get the best of him and the undeniable connection he had with you on set that day was just you playing it up for the cameras. After all, you’re an actress and your job is to look good with almost anyone you were paired with.

He wasn’t sure why he was watching this more than once. At first, it was to support you but then seeing how comfortable you were with Pietro and how you fawned over him, made Bucky’s skin crawl. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was anything more to you and the Maximoff twin.

“I didn’t peg you as a sadist, but now I’m not so sure,” says Sam ribbing Bucky for torturing himself by watching one of your films...again. Sam knew Bucky got worked up seeing you with another male performer even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Bucky is quick to swipe the video away, but not before fumbling with the device and stuffing it back in his pocket.

“Get out of my face, Sam,” he grumbles in response.

“Is this what you call studying your co-star? I thought you two were more than acquainted with each other,” Sam quizzes him.

“Stop. We filmed one scene together-”

“Bullshit! We’ve all seen those homemade videos on both your profiles. You’re clearly into her, but you’re acting like a-”

“I’m not acting like anything!” Bucky is quick to try and defend himself. He had his own reasons to feel how he felt and he didn’t need Sam telling him what he thinks of it.

“Pussy,” Sam finishes his sentence nonetheless, “you’re acting like a pussy, alright.”

“Exactly how am I acting like a pussy about all this, bird brain?”

“Instead of using your profession as an excuse to sleep with her again, you could be doing it on your own time, but you let your insecurities get the best of you and stop you from having a real connection with someone again.”

“That is not true! Our relationship was strictly professional.”

“Try convincing that to the millions that got off to the videos…” Sam throws and Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but closes it when he can’t find anything to say. You both really outdid it on that video together.

“Whatever. I have a flight to catch,” Bucky says in an attempt to dismiss the conversation.

“In five hours...now, come on, man. What happened between you two?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“No, but you’ve been a real buzzkill lately and I can’t help but think it has something to do with her.”

“There was never a thing with us.”

“Are you kidding? Did you or did you two not have sex on that couch in your living room? Then not tell me about it because you know how much I love that couch! You brought her back to your home because you liked her.”

“We needed extra income,” Bucky disputes the home videos you both agreed to share online.

“What’s the real reason, Buck?”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“Stop changing the subject. Now, what did she do?” Sam presses Bucky.

“Nothing, alright! It’s me!”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that.”

“I’m head over heels for her.”

“What’s wrong with that? That’s perfectly normal when someone likes another person.”

“I’m not so sure she feels the same way.”

“What gave you that impression?” Sam presses while he knows he’s got Bucky right where he wants with the topic. 

“I can’t believe I’m even telling you this. The first time I watched her video with Pietro, I saw... how natural she was in it...like they just looked so good together.”

“Okay, that’s her job...is to act like she’s enjoying it,” Sam explains and for a second it’s like he’s almost walking on eggshells because while he can’t help but want to smack Bucky for being childish about this, he needs to really understand why. 

“Yeah, I know how to do our job…” Sam raises his hands in defense, “...it’s the fact that she looked so...good with him that if she looked so convincing in that video then what if...all that was happening in ours was for the cameras. Everything was fine between us for a while, but maybe she just has that factor of making anyone look good with her. What makes me different?”

“So, there’s a few things we got to address here: 1) Of course it was for the cameras. You're both performers. You act. 2) What you two were doing was not acting. 3) Do you not remember that she wanted to work with you?”

“Did you not see how much she was enjoying getting it from Maximoff?”

“She’s really good at her job! She’s not getting recognized for nothing.”

“Well, she had me convinced…”

“I forgot to point out one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re insecure,” Sam straight up tells him, “...you’ve always been insecure, but when you risked asking her out while the cameras were still rolling, you weren’t. She made you feel something and you liked it. You’re gonna have to talk to her anyways, so you might as well air it all out if you want her back.”

“How successful would that approach be for someone that ghosted the person in question?”

“Really? You ghosted her? Fucking idiot…” Sam says, shaking his head before walking away from his friend. 

A/N: Annnnd...that’s it! There’s another piece with more of Bucky, but I’m not thinking about it enough to complete it. But plz, tell me what you thought or felt about this. Can you hype me enough? Bye, again! 

[betweenthescarletmoon]

The Hollywood Reporter Roundtable Analysis

It was very intriguing for me how Oscar carefully delved into the question he was given by the host Lacey in 38:45, but in a slight surface-level way. Some information he's given in other times filled up a lot of the blanks he left behind in his answer.

First let's go over what they said.

Lacey: Your co-star from Scenes From a Marriage, Jessica Chastain, talked about [how] she had to go to a place that was so dark, and she's not sure she can sort of ever go to these places as an actress again. And I'm curious if you've felt any of that and how your individual, personal sort of boundaries shift with time, with experience, with success.

Oscar: You know, before I'd be like: "what limb do I have to take—cut off to make this scene three percent better?" But I think that it's about inspiration. [...] The whole reason process exists is to inspire, right? And sometimes you don't need a wild process to be inspired by something. Sometimes the words themselves will do it, um, sometimes the character is enough. Sometimes the situation is so harrowing that that's enough to inspire a whole history of a character. And sometimes you gotta: "what did he eat for breakfast? why did he do this?" In order to try, y'know, to inspire some imagination and some sense of truth, right, or some sense of—some emotional, interesting thing.

Oscar [continued]: But boundaries, I think, are becoming more important to me now. And then you have kids. Time is the most valuable commodity. And I think with Scenes From a Marriage, the scenes themselves—that [was what was] so harrowing, not so much the character. But also it mirrored a lot of things in my own life. [...] I'd be reading a bed time story to the young actress that's a five-year-old with a little bunny lamp, and then go home, arrive just in time to sit in the bed with the same exact bunny lamp, somehow, and read a story to my five-year-old— You know, it just starts to fuck with your head, because we're just a human being, so that's a weird situation! [...]

Oscar [yeah he makes up for not talking for almost the entire hour with this question]: After a while, I think it was just all the nature of it, you know? It was right in the height of the pandemic. It was in this factory in the Bronx that had been turned into a studio. It was only like sixty people. And these were very long—almost every shot was like a thirty-minute take. It felt like a weird hybrid between theatre and TV and film. And with someone that I've known for twenty years as well—so all those things created a very uncanny situation, that I think, going back, I probably would have been a little more mindful about. Like, y'know, a little clearer boundaries— And the truth is, even if it wouldn't have been quite as real or good (you know?), I'm okay with—I'm getting better with that idea that—I don't have to cut off a limb just to make it slightly better. It's okay. It's okay.

First off, i just wanna gush over his speech patterns bc I am that all over the place when I try to communicate my thoughts (i actually skipped a lot of his endearing stutters, pet phrases, and filler things he said to grasp at his next message). It's so relatable especially in a group full of people (not to mention legendary actors), because even a guy who looks as confident as him can still sound like he's making a discovery as he speaks and takes you along.

Now on to my analysis of what he said because at first I didn't completely get what he meant!

I have a feeling he's very perfectionistic, and from how he speaks about work in other articles as well as here, he also seems a workaholic. I believe in here he's trying to say that there should be different levels of immersion and hard work to connect with or explore the character instead of always bringing his all and beyond to the job.

Also, scenes from a marriage was as traumatic an experience to film as it was for us to watch (his words after 1:56 on this vid), and Jessica admitted to crying every day for four months during filming. It was a very intimate and emotionally intense series to film especially with such a close friend from Juilliard. So i believe both Oscar and Jessica gave everything they had to make this already overwhelming series feel as real and painful as possible. And since it's a hard setting to feel far removed from (both are married, have kids, have a sex life, could be facing divorce in the future bc of its high rates), it must have hit them even harder. I believe it's not truly an experience to watch sfam without you screaming at, insulting, or feeling immensely sorrowful for the characters because THAT is the reaction they fought hard to get from you. That pain, that anxiety, that tension, that rage, that pity, every emotion you felt that you could barely cope with? All crafted thanks to their extremely immersive and talented performance coupled with their flawless chemistry. But if it feels real to us, through a screen…for them it must've felt even more so. Unbearably more so.

So i believe these experiences, as well as having a family to take care of, and other priorities like time and mental health, have recently made it more important for him to strike a balance in his life. To stop obsessing over creating the perfect role or immersion, or to use these roles to cope with and process real life struggles (as he's admitted to do). I think it's important for him to now connect with real life more, like being a father and a husband, as well as just a human being. Not just an actor or a character.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Important Excerpts from Articles about escapism and coping through acting (in case you don't feel like reading the last references):

New York Times: After His Mother’s Death, Oscar Isaac Turns to Shakespeare for Solace

“I didn’t know how to process any of this, but this [performing as Hamlet] I knew how to do.”

But [Hamlet is] also a tragedy that asks Mr. Isaac to relive the anguished death of a parent at every performance. In Sam Gold’s rowdy, deconstructionist staging, every time Mr. Isaac mud-wrestles, or lofts a prop skull or performs a mad scene in just a T-shirt and briefs, he seems to be working through his own loss, transforming raw private grief into riveting public performance.

As Mr. Isaac explained, performing has always helped him come to terms with his emotions. “This is how I’m able to function,” he said. “The only way that I’m really able to process stuff is through reflecting it.”

Esquire: The Dream of Oscar Isaac

To be in conversation with Oscar Isaac, who is forty-three, is to talk with someone who has thought deeply about the course of his life—not out of narcissism or vanity but by necessity, a desperate desire to find what feels like solid ground. For him. For his family. For us, whom his art reaches. He has worked to wrest meaning out of his confusions and fears. His effort is ongoing, and his audiences have the privilege of following him in his relentless and shattering performances, in search of the firm footing he lost every time another of his dreams was interrupted.

If superheroes have their capes and their flamethrowers to help them survive, we ordinary humans have our imagination. It has been our shelter for millennia, a way to express and to understand what feels incomprehensible. When it all gets too heavy, sometimes the fragile rope tethering us to solid ground snaps clean, and there is often no refuge sturdy enough to put us back together except in the intimate, private shelter of our minds.

NPR: For Oscar Isaac, life — and acting — is all about impermanence

“It [acting] is a funnel, and it's always been where I go to understand things about life and things that are happening to me. But it's one thing to grieve as a character and one thing to grieve as an actual person. And I think that there's still quite a lot of unresolved stuff there.”

I hope you enjoyed this post! I had to organize all my thoughts in one place because it's so fascinating and complex

[musings-from-mars]

(i considered just putting this in the tags but it's going to get too long so here's this)

I have had dreams that play out like this exact kind of horror game. Like so vivid that I still remember things about them months/years later (as you can see herein lol). And the premise lends itself to a survival horror game perfectly. Like seeing this post immediately made these dreams rush back to the forefront of my memory and I just have to share.

The dreams always start with me being in a normal public place, and I go off to find a restroom. I walk in, it looks totally ordinary, but it just keeps going, going and going. Further and further and then things begin to change and branch off. There are different rooms branching out, each with different design variables, sizes, arrangements. One room resembles a college lecture hall with tiered "seating," the seating being toilets of course, bright fluorescent lighting and white drywall and plastic all over, but no stalls/dividers. Another room resembles the concourse of a shopping mall or movie theater, complete with fountains and fake plants, dark carpet and dark, purplish lighting, windows in the roof to show it's night. And of course this massive space is empty except for me. And the walls are lined with urinals, literally hundreds of them.

From this "concourse" there are innumerable directions to go, and no telling where each leads. I just need to pee and I could just choose a commode and be done with it, but some sort of instinctual urge tells me I have to keep venturing further, like if I were to stop to pee, someone might walk in, something might appear. And no one wants to be walked in on in the bathroom, right?

And so I keep going and find more bizarre spaces, like something resembling the locker rooms at a public pool, but of course no stalls, no cover, no privacy, plain white tile everywhere. Maybe there's a hot tub, or several hot tubs, or just an actual swimming pool. All devoid of life and perfectly sterile, but the puddles of standing water on the tile floors still disgust me in a way I can't qualify. Everything is obviously so clean, so what's gross about it? It's probably to do with the feeling that this standing water really shouldn't be there. How would water have splashed from the pools and tubs, unless I wasn't the first one here...?

And it just keeps going. I still need to pee but I still can't bring myself to stop. Besides, once I do pee, what then? Do I just leave? Can I leave??

At some point I figure out I am dreaming, and usually when I have a lucid dream like that I just start dicking around until I wake up. But with these kinds of dreams, I will realize I'm dreaming, but that doesn't help. Yeah, it's not real of course. But this unease and dull desperation has felt very real until this point. There's something causing it. Even if it's nothing, even if it's something my brain concocted, it's still worthy of caution. I still can't just stop, if I keep walking and exploring I'll stay safe and alone. That way nothing can walk in on me.

It's that fear that I think most people have had at one point, and many still do, one that probably arose in childhood when the embarrassment of being walked in on while using the restroom was so immense and without comparison. Even as we grow up, old fears like that still linger, hence the prevalence of nightmares to do with school among people who have long since left school.

It’s just that intense, formative anxiety stretched to an inescapable scale. There’s the fear of being lost, and the fear of being found, with a real-life analog that’s distinct in its own right compared to general Backrooms/liminal space stuff

You know, I'm genuinely surprised that – as far as I'm aware – nobody has made a serious effort at combining this Backrooms shit with the survival-horror genre's strange preoccupation with public restrooms yet. Just a photorealistic walking simulator set entirely within the confines of an endless, deserted, impossibly complicated public restroom. Bonus points if it gets a little bit horny with it, but only a little – make folks wonder whether this is a very obtuse fetish thing, or whether they're just reading too much into it.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Malleus Draconia Silk Adorned Personal Story: Part 1

"It is truly a pleasant experience"

Part 1 (Part 2)

[Scalding Sands – Camel Bazaar]

Malleus: As time passes, the heat has started to subside. The breeze is also pleasant.

Malleus: Now, which store are we heading to next, Viper?

Malleus: …? Viper isn’t here. As well as Clover, Diamond and the rest…

Malleus: I wonder where everyone went.

Malleus: As someone who is not familiar with this area, even if I were to go searching around recklessly, it is unlikely that I will find them. Whatever shall I do.

Kalim: Huh? It’s Malleus! Heey!

Malleus: Oya, if it isn’t Asim.

Malleus: Were you not busy going around greeting everyone as the organizer of the fireworks festival?

Kalim: If it’s about that, I’ve finished it up completely!

Kalim: I wanted to hang out with everyone, so I rushed over but… Where’s Jamil and the others?

Malleus: The thing is, they disappeared in the middle of sightseeing.

Kalim: Wow, even Malleus gets lost.

Malleus: That’s not true, Asim. It’s not as if I’ve gotten lost.

Malleus: There were just many things happening that the others lost sight of me. This sort of thing has always happened in the past.

Kalim: Uh-huh. But since it’s Jamil, I’m sure he’ll be able to quickly find you so it’ll be fine.

Kalim: It won’t do us any good trying to rush to contact them, let’s just enjoy shopping the two of us until we can meet up with them.

Malleus: Alright, I don’t mind.

Street Vendor: Hey, you there young man! You’re a tourist. Come take a look at my products for a second.

Malleus: Oh, this is a bracelet resembling a cobra.

Street Vendor: In the Scalding Sands, snakes are seen as an appreciated animal. Within them, cobras are especially respected.

Kalim: Yeah yeah! They say it’s based on the cobra staff that the Sorcerer of the Sands held.

Malleus: I see. Then to be granted the goodwill of the Sorcerer of the Sands, allow me to purchase one.

Street Vendor: Thanks for your patronage!

Sundries Vendor: Hey, young man over there! How would you like a silk place mat?

Sundries Vendor: It’s shaped like a parrot, isn’t it interesting?

Malleus: Well. Since it was expressly recommended, I suppose I’ll take it.

Kalim: Hey wait. Malleus, are you going to buy everything they call out to your for?

Malleus: Yes. It's rare for me to have cityfolk call out to me in such a familiar manner, it is truly a pleasant experience.

Kalim: I see! Then, let’s buy and buy a bunch! Even if there’s too many things, I’ll call a car, so it’ll be fine!

Crafts Vendor: … Hey, did you hear that? That young man, looks like he’ll buy anything.

Interior Vendor: Yeah, this is a golden opportunity to earn a lot.

Crafts Vendor: Young man! How about our sand art? You can even put your name into it!

Interior Vendor: This glass pen, it’s a fireworks festival limited edition. If you don’t buy it now, you won’t ever be able to get your hands on one again!

Commodities Vendor: How about a soap bar made of camel milk? The sun is strong, so it’s important to take care of your skin!

Children’s Things Vendor: This is a post card made of dried flowers. It’s perfect to remind you of this travel!

Kalim: Uwa! Sellers from a whole bunch of stores all started to gather!?

Malleus: If they all come at once, it’s problematic. I cannot talk with any of them.

Kalim: Hmm, that’s true. Let’s break away from here for now.

Kalim: Everyone, sorry! I’ll buy a lot next time!

Malleus: …

Kalim: Even though you specially wanted to enjoy shopping, I’m sorry Malleus.

Malleus: It’s nothing for you to be concerned about, Asim.

Malleus: Besides, I was able to really get the feel of the energy of this city.

Malleus: It’s a lively city. I cannot believe this once was an uninhabitable desert region.

Malleus: This is the result of many years spent promoting trade by sea and land, as well as cultivating residential areas and agricultural lands.

Malleus: I seriously believed that humans were only a fleeting presence, however…

Malleus: They can inherit cultures that span multiple generations, and develop civilizations. They really are interesting.

Kalim: What you’re saying is a bit difficult for me to understand but… you’re saying that it’s a great city, right? I’m glad!

Kalim: Not to be outdone by my grandfather and my great-grandfather, I’m also going to invigorate Silk City!

Kalim: Is there a shop you want to see? If there’s a place you want to go, let me know.

Malleus: Let’s see. Then I suppose I…

Part 1 (Part 2)

[jodysaywer]

Don’t know how to start this but like I’m kind of tired of staying silent on the Shadow and Bone racism.

I don’t think I would have been as mad had this series not be treated as the pinnacle of representation. While I understand you can’t get it perfect ever, there are lots of parts that I hope we don’t make the same mistakes next time.

I think that the biggest problem about it is that it only caters to ‘diversity’ for white people — it has this sort of version of a commodity activism where white people can see it and be like ‘but the characters are diverse!’ The racism is really obvious so they can say, ‘You shouldn’t call poc slurs!’ And give themselves a pat on the back for supporting the characters and ‘not being racist.’

Just for the record, in the books there are also lots of stereotypes against all the pocs especially Jesper that makes me uncomfortable but I’m not sure if it’s my place to say (but like if anyone wants to go ahead). Here I’m going to talk specifically about the East Asian ones.

SPOILERS AHEAD

First of all the problem in the show is that it’s directed specifically towards East Asians. There were so many wonderful pocs there but Alina was true only one constantly getting attacked. And I’m definitely not saying other pocs should get attack too, I’m saying the opposite. Gonna say this out of experience, racism for me hurts more when it’s coming from another poc bc it’s because I don’t anticipate it like I do with white people so having woc like Zoya being racist to Alina was not only useless to the plot but also extremely damaging.

Alina is also manipulated constantly by a white guy (and shipped with him). Her ability is what makes her stand out against others and she basically went straight to be his favorite to be paraded around. You can see others who have worked hard like Zoya get angry and jealous (rightfully so) this creating a divide between Alina and others. It really made me feel like being the Model Minority where we are the weapon white supremacy use against other minorities to say that they’re not racist but in reality we’re just their pawns. We are constantly paraded by white supremacy to other minorities as an ‘good example’ and white supremacy has constantly belittled the hard work of other pocs blaming everything on them being ‘lazy’ instead of admitting the glaring institutional blocks they put that prevents other pocs to thrive. The addition of the power imbalance of Alina and the Darkling as a ship (and a heavily romanticized ship) is so damaging as an Asian woc who is historically and constantly fetishized by white men too, especially with the Darkling being someone who is cruel and and oppressive to others. It’s not your enemies to lovers trope as I’ve seen people pass it off as.

There are no other East Asians in the background though they’re are a lot of other pocs so intentionally Alina is the only one (She is half Shu so imagine the ramifications of the didn’t have Ravka blood at all and had more prominent East Asian features). This pattern of being the only one there is a constant reminder of feeling like a foreigner and that I don’t belong.

Unfortunately this parallels to the books. In the Shadow and Bones series itself where Alina is white, the two East Asians (who are also half white) are Tamar And Tolya who are basically Alina’s bodyguards. Although they are physically there in the series most of the times you don’t see a lot of their personality expect for one being an LGBT token and the other one reciting poems that no one wants to hear. Alina also casts them aside for whiter characters and is sort of uncomfortable with them? (Also no one in the fandom like talks abt them which kinda hurts but yeah….it’s the same as the books)

This feeling of having Asian characters making others uncomfortable also goes to Six of Crows with Kuwei who is Shu and basically just a money bargain for the Crows. Everyone just assumes he couldn’t speak their language (he can and thats the plot twist) because of where he’s from and they sort of ignore him except for Wylan who is rude to him just because they like the same person. Then Wylan spends almost of all book two borderline yellowfacing (while I understand how uncomfortable it must have felt to have to exist and carry around in a face that’s not yours, the fact that this was a white boy constantly being angry of having an Asian face probably wasnt the best choice). Also Kuwei himself is a little weird too and comes off as uncomfortable to Jesper like the way her pushes himself to Jesper and kisses him without his consent. I’m not excusing Kuwei’s actions at all and I think that what he did was wrong but having him as the only rep there for me doing that made me feel rather icky about myself in a way where I’m like, ‘is this how im perceived to others?’ Kuwei made me feel a bit like a burden and a bit of a creep. (I see some people be like, oh he’s sassy! He’s got like 5 lines! He’s honestly just constantly transported in different places to hide in the book like he’s some repressed cargo, that action itself speaks so loudly about being constantly silenced)

The Shu itself in the books are also like? They do experiments on Grishas which basically feels like the stereotypical sci-fi, dystopian, or whatever genre that squally go ‘Asia experiments on people because they have no humanity’ and etc. (Kuwei’s dad being the scientist who found the drug that basically hurst grishas also isn’t great lol)

Also in the books most pocs chacters have light eyes which is like a small thing but it kind of annoys me in the way we’re so focused on western standards of beauty.

——

The thing is, I’m not saying this out of hate. Leigh is one of my favorite authors and I absolutely love her but I feel like the fandom puts these series on a much bigger pedestal for seemingly being diverse and while it is character race wise, the stereotypes imbedded in these are important too. It really hurts when your favorite books see you as weird and foreign and casts you aside. It hurts when most of the characters that are supposed to look like me makes me feel most uncomfortable. So please keep that in mind.