#embrace ennui

[ozzgin]

content: gender neutral reader, religious themes, blasphemy, NSFW, horror

Something is wrong with your beloved Angel, yet you cannot place the dreadful feeling in the depths of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't made to comprehend such divine truths.

5. Honour thy father and thy mother

It was birthed from the void of the Heavens. No parent governs over its will. No being controls its resolve.

Father...? The word rings and echoes across ancient times, forgotten eons. It does not remember its meaning. All it knows is you, and you are enough.

4. Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy

"Six days you shall labor, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, your God." Of course. The law is clear, or at least it should be. Its mind navigates the meaning, suddenly engulfed by a mysterious haze.

Six days it labors, it serves, it worships. It exists for you, to please you and fulfill your desires. Your wish is its command.

Six days of creation. It has been molded just for you, to fit all the nooks and corners of your body and soul. You have taught it how to love, how to crave, how to need. It starves for your touch.

3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain

"Oh, God", you cry, clinging to the holy beast. It shivers in raw bliss, its many hands embracing your lewd body, drooling and panting in unquenchable desire. Its mind is possessed by one singular thought: to breed you, to own you, to fuck more profanities out of your pretty, little mouth.

The word swirls inside its head, baptized to a new sense: God is when you reach your peak, when you're within its voracious hold. Your trembling hands reach for the horns.

2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image

It yearns to create, to be the architect for once. Your home is littered in unfinished pieces: bizarre, geometrical paintings, abstract statues chiseled in most refined detail, music sheets of notes foreign to your human ears. All of them have something in common - it's how the Angel perceives you.

You fill up its senses, and the essence drips onto its works of art. It gathers the objects of worship together, like the outline of an altar, like an inviting chamber of prayer.

1 Thou shalt have no other gods before me

The abyssal creature bows before you, its many eyes devouring your form. The long, black claws reach out, like a beggar scraping its way out of the depths of ennui.

You're a blessing from the Heavens.

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist] | [First Half]

[lovebugism]

“I’m not the easiest person to talk to, or be around. It’s… hard for other people to love me. I get that.” with Eddie? Maybe he and reader are sorta rivals or frenemies?

here's an unsolicited part 2 to this fic! hope you like it :D — eddie knows you like him now, so you find it extremely hard to be normal around him accordingly (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, more succession references, 2.3k)

You walk into the Hideout behind Steve and Robin, hands trembling and sticky with sweat. 

The humid air of the overcrowded bar and the overwhelming stench of cheap beer do little to quell your swirling stomach. The too-loud music and bustling bodies are hardly more than a harsh reminder of the last time you were here — pouring your heart out to Eddie Munson in the form of anxious word vomit, only to be hopelessly turned away. 

Not quite rejected but hardly embraced, which is somehow more embarrassing. 

“You alright?” Steve asks once you’ve ducked into the dim hallway of the backstage area. 

The music and muddled chatter are mostly stifled now, but the walls continue to pulse with life — riddled with chipping paint and dubious stains that only add to your unease. You try to swallow down your distant ennui, hoping it isn’t as obvious as it feels. (It is). Your loud feelings are too big for your body, and it’s got your face softly screwed together like you’ve tasted something sour.

The concerned glint in Steve’s eyes makes you cower. “Yeah. I’m peachy,” you deadpan with an unconvincing shrug. “Why?”

“‘Cause you look like we’re leading you to slaughter,” Robin scoffs.

“You’re asking me to be nice to Eddie Munson for two hours,” you grouse. “So, excuse me if I’m not the most chipper.”

The brunette girl flashes you a look over her shoulder, ocean eyes smudged with dark liner. “Scared you’ll spontaneously combust?” she jokes with her hand wrapped around the rusted knob of the faux greenroom. It feels more like her chipped maroon nails have grabbed your heart and twisted.

“Terrified,” you monotone just before she swings the door open.

The tiny, windowless room smells like sweat and grocery store cologne. It’s crowded with vanity mirrors, plastic folding chairs, and suitcases — hardly big enough for a heavy metal band. 

The three of you run into Gareth and Jeff on your way in. The two look nothing like themselves as you shuffle past them in the doorway, sharing fleeting glances and awkward greetings as you go. A couple of D&D nerds in leather and eyeliner feels almost uncanny.

It’s the same with Eddie, sort of. Curls drenched with sweat, eyes smudged black, tanktop damp around the neckline — a total rockstar. You’re not sure if it’s the raucous outfit stirring your stomach or the body wearing it.

“Oh, shit— You assholes actually showed!” Eddie beams at the sight of you. “And you dressed for the occasion, too.”

The boy in all black and silver stands before the three of you, still dressed in corporate attire after working late shifts. Steve and Robin look at least mostly normal without the Family Video vests and branded name tags. You, however, look like one of those businesswear catalogs brought to life — glaringly out of place. 

“You sayin’ The Gap isn’t proper Hideout attire, Munson?” Steve quips, holding his arm out for a friendly (only slightly awkward) side embrace.

Eddie slaps the back of the boy’s collared shirt with a ringed hand. “Claire’s is more metal than The Gap,” he teases, then turns to hug Robin. “At least Buckley looks halfway normal.”

“And by normal, you mean hot, right?” she jokes, voice deep and gritty and effortlessly sultry.

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

Eddie has no trouble greeting Steve and Robin but loses most of his cool when he turns to you.

The not-so confession at Benny’s Burgers seemed to change more things between you than the heart-felt one you shared here not too long ago. He feels a bit weird, knowing now that you meant what you said — that you actuallyliked him, and that it wasn’t just some cruel joke. 

He feels like he’s got cool points to win with you now. And it makes him achingly aware of when he inevitably loses them.

“Look at you,” Eddie grins, tossing his chin back to shake wild curls from his face. A few chestnut strands cling stubbornly to his sticky forehead. The milky white tendons of his neck shine with sweat, too. “You look like an actual human person.”

“Wow. Thanks, Eds,” you monotone, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a compliment. You cross your arms over the chest of your fitted turtle neck and joke, “I’d say that same, but… you look like a poodle that just washed up on shore.”

Robin mumbles your name through gritted teeth, flashing you a look and poking you on the shoulder. She scolds you like a parent, as though to say be nice without actually saying the words out loud.

“What?” you shrug.

Eddie only chuckles — a low and honeyed sound he presses to your ear when he brings you suddenly in for a hug. His lean body meets yours, soft and strong and slightly clammy. His skin smells like deep cologne, minty aftershave, and very faintly of boy. You tense when his hands cradle your back.

“Oh,” you mumble in surprise, floundering at the affection as you attempt to hold him back. “Okay.”

“How’s the nine-to-five?” Eddie asks after he parts from you, sounding almost like he cares. “Boring the absolute shit outta you?”

You shrug with an air of nonchalance and hope you don’t look as flustered by his attention as you feel. “Oh, you know… Burying the bodies, counting the cash.”

“Gotta picture of me in your little cubicle?”

“Tons,” you answer. “It’s basically an Eddie Munson shrine.”

His smile widens to show all his teeth. His chocolate eyes glitter with mischief, too, like he knows what he’s doing to you. 

Eddie gives you a break from his suffocating stare and looks to Steve and Robin standing on his other side. You feel like you can finally breathe. “I told Greg at the bar to give my friends free beer tonight— just show him your ID or whatever,” the boy tells them.

“Oh, my god— I could kiss you right now,” Robin mumbles.

Eddie’s plush pink lips curl into a half-smirk when he turns to you again. “So try not to run up your tab tonight, alright, sweetheart?” he quips and pats you on the arm. It’s easier to joke that he hadn’t mentioned you at all when your name was first from his lips. Which is totally a joke you would’ve made.

You flash Steve and Robin a wide-eyed look of annoyance, jaw clenched to contain all the insults you instinctively want to spew. “He got us free beers,” the former cautions with a sympathetic shrug. “Don’t ruin it.”

You roll your eyes and hear them leave behind you — not even trying to pretend like they didn’t swing byfor the beers. Eddie’s stupid grin widens when you stay. “You heard the man. Means you gotta be nice to be all night.”

“Right,” you scoff like it’s funny. Steve The Hair Harrington doesn’t exactly scream figure of authority to you. Robin Buckley, maybe. But definitely not Steve.

“Think you can do it without spontaneously combusting?” he quips.

You hate that he knows you so well. “Not particularly,” you deadpan.

Eddie tilts his wild head to the side and sends you a pretty, tight-lipped smile. “Well, you’re doing a great job already.”

His praise is sarcastic. You know this already, so you’re not sure why it has your stomach doing backflips. “Thanks…” you mumble, inherently shrinking inside yourself as you attempt to make small talk. “How, uh— How was the show?”

“Fine,” the boy hums, shrugging his pale shoulders. “Same set from last time. Same crowd of drunks.”

“Sorry I missed it.”

“Eh. Don’t be. You’ve actually got important shit going on— Don’t worry about me.”

“Your shit’s important, too,” you argue without thinking, perhaps more shocked by your sincerity than the boy ahead of you. You follow quickly and much more harshly, “I guess.”

Eddie smiles wordlessly. You start to squirm in place. He watches you grow suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin as you seem to look everywhere but back at him. The pink expression ebbs into a more concerned one. “You okay?”

You hate the question more the second time. 

“Fine,” you monotone, hardly convincing.

He squints. “Then why aren’t you looking at me?”

“I am looking at you,” you argue just to argue, giving him a measly glance before turning away a moment later.

“No, seriously,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out to touch you. “What’s going on?”

His ringed hand caresses the outside of your elbow. You jerk back on instinct, more aggressive than you mean to be. 

“Nothing!” you huff, looking so far away from him that he can only see your profile. You grumble like a storm cloud, “You just— You make me go all weird. As you know. And fully intend.”

“That’s what this is all about?” Eddie chuckles. “You got a little crush on me?”

He reaches out for you again, this time digging his fingers into the junction of your neck. You swat him away with a harsh hand. You hate the way his touch makes your skin buzz. 

“You’re such a dick,” you groan before spinning on your heel. Your slacks swish around your ankles as you walk the very short distance to the door. Eddie’s footsteps sound much heavier in comparison as he rushes behind you. 

“Hey, hey, hey! C’mon. I’m just kidding,” he assures, still laughing as he slides his body between you and the exit. He meets your glare with a crooked smile. “It’s okay. I got a crush on you back— you know that.”

You hate how easily the words spill from his mouth, how cool he is about all of it compared to the time bomb you’ve become — tick tick ticking away as your anxiety builds. You figure this stupid crush (or whatever he wants to call it) must mean more to you than it does to him. So again, you turn away.

Eddie knocks his worn sneaker against the toe of your pleather boot. “Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t make it any less true, you know?” he tells you, quiet and suddenly serious as he tilts his cheek to his shoulder. “Doesn’t make me like you any less, either.”

His confession makes you feel funny. It makes you giddy and fills you with dread all at once. “It’s just… It’s weird,” is all you can think to say, after several long moments of silence.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I— I’m not— I don’t know,” you groan, bringing your hands to your face to hide behind your palms. “God, I did not intend to talk about this today.”

“Well, too late. We’re talking about it.”

Eddie takes a step away from the door, moving impossibly closer to you. He ducks his chin to meet your sheepish gaze, dark eyes sparkling with visible concern. 

You step back from him on instinct and talk wildly with your hands. “No! Tonight was supposed to be about you— about you’re fucking show— not about me!”

Brows raised and hidden behind his sweat-drenched bangs, he monotones. “Say it.”

A stubborn sigh puffs out your lips. “I just… I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to. Or to be around. I know that,” you confess. “I know it’s hard for people to like me, but… you do, and I really don’t fucking get it, okay? It just feels like you’re playing a big, dumb prank on me.”

Eddie stays silent for a moment, chocolate gaze unwavering as he ponders your words. 

“Wait, so…” the boy trails off, eyes squeezed shut in concentration. “You’re mean to me, but I like you anyway, and because I can see through all the— faux bitchiness or whatever— You have a hard time… being around me?”

Your eyes flit to the ceiling for a moment. You look back at him and nod. “Yeah, that’s… That’s pretty much the gist of it, yeah.”

Eddie beams before he can help it, filling the dingy room with golden sunshine. “Well, you know how we get past that, right?” he wonders and scrunches the bridge of his nose.

You get the feeling he’s teasing you still, but you entertain him anyway. “What?”

“Us being boyfriend-girlfriend—”

“Eddie,” you groan with your head tilted back, only partly pretending to be annoyed. You don’t step back from him when he inches closer to you this time, though. You don’t jerk away from his touch when his hands caress your forearms, either. 

“I know you wanna…” he lilts, pulling you closer with ringed fingers wrapped gently around your wrists. Your shoes scuff the carpet as you stumble into his chest. “It’s why I make you go all funny, right?”

You squint up at him, with hate in your eyes and your heart in your throat. “You’re so annoying,” you deadpan.

“Okay, how about this? We can just go on one date, alright?” Eddie offers, smoothing his guitar-string calloused fingers up your shoulders. “Nothin’ fancy, I promise. Just bottomless breadsticks at Enzo’s at seven. And you, bottom-less at my place at eight.”

Your knotted stomach does a backflip at his words, but you keep glaring at him anyway. “And who says you don’t know how to flirt?” you squint.

Another chuckle spills from his plush, pink lips. His tongue darts out to wet them a second later — mouth desperate to be kissed. “‘Kay. Fine. How about we just makeout in my van after closing? And I try not to be a total idiot and ruin it like last time?”

He’s much more serious now. You can see it in his very expressive button eyes. He’s borderline pleading now, for a second chance he never needed to ask for. 

You cave, far quicker and with a lot less fight than he expected. “Fine,” you shrug with an unenthusiastic huff.

Eddie smiles so big, it’s like you’ve just told him you loved him or something — all his teeth on display — so wide and full of adoration it almost hurts. 

[radiowendigo]

Anxiety was dealing with multiple panic episodes lately. It wasn’t too uncommon for her. But, her employees noticed that she would grip onto her arms to the point it would take a huge amount of strength to help release herself. Anxiety had also been experiencing these same type of panic episodes during the night, which awakened some or all of the emotions.

Despite having been unavailable for many of them, Ennui has seen them all. She wasn't always sure what to say or do in these kinds of situations. She felt guilty because Anxiety had always been so encouraging, supportive, and nice to her. She wished she could do more for her beloved. What kind of friend was she?. Deep down, Ennui as well feared that the other emotions would sense her secret feelings for Anxiety and get leaked in some way. All she could do in those moments was sympathize with Anxiety and wish her negative thoughts would subside.

Ennui woke up first in the middle of the night, which was the first time she did during Anxiety’s recent episodes. She slowly removed her white face mask and heard muffled whimpers distant to where the console was. Ennui furrowed her eyebrows and quietly got out of bed, moving past the others so as not to wake them, and trailing the noises as it made her way to the console. Anxiety was kneeling down in front of the console, hyperventilating, hair messy, and once again, hugging herself, gripping onto her arms in a deadly grip. Ennui rushed to Anxiety and kneeled down to her level in front of her, and placed her hands on hers.

“Anxiety, breathe, mon ami. Slowly.” Ennui said gently but looked concerned.

“I-I-I’m trying!” Anxiety breathed in a frantic tone, triggering tears which slowly began spilling down her cheeks. Ennui shushed her and rubbed her hands in an upside down motion in attempt to soothe her.

“Breathe with me.”

Anxiety nodded rapidly and Ennui inhaled and exhaled deeply, her low voice giving Anxiety a pleasant tingling sensation. Her voice had always been one of her favourite things about her. It was just calming and reassuring to her. Anxiety tried to repeat her but struggled.

“Again.” Ennui said in an engorging tone. They did this excerise three more times and finally, Anxiety was breathing normally, but was still gripping her arms. Ennui did not let go her hands.

“Anxiety, please let go of your arms, mon douce, you’re hurting your pretty arms.”

More tears fell from Anxiety’s eyes and nodded slowly releasing them, while Ennui carefully tugged along with her. Finally, Anxiety released her arms making Ennui sigh out of relief. At this point she let go of Anxiety’s hands. Anxiety looked up at Ennui in her distressed state, shaking less.

“I-I’m sorry Ennui, I know I’ve been doing this a lot lately, I don’t know why, I feel so bad and I know I’m disturbing your sleep, and I know you need your rest for the morning, and that I should just find a way to handle it myself, and—-“

“Shhh, hush, mon cher. You don’t need to apologize. Viens ici dans mes bras.”

Ennui pulled Anxiety into her arms, resting Anxiety’s cheek on her chest, Anxiety enjoyed the soft material of her black shirt. Ennui wrapped her long arms around Anxiety and held her in a strong but comforting embrace. Anxiety cried softly now from the exhaustion of the situation. Ennui stroked through Anxiety’s messy strands with one hand in an attempt to comfort her more. After a while, Anxiety’s cries subsided and Ennui placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, which Anxiety noticed blushing furiously. But didn’t say anything not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Are you alright now, Anxiety?” Ennui asked softly.

Anxiety exhaled and looked up at the indigo emotion. Her eyes were fatigued, bangs had creeped out underneath them, and her cheeks were tear-stained but smiled.

“Yeah, I am. Thank you..” Anxiety replied weakly, looking down flustered.

Ennui smiled warmly and placed her hand on Anxiety’s right cheek and gently guided it back to her face.

“Of course. That’s what we’re here for, right? You are never a bother to us. It’s a part of who you are. But it’s how you deal with it what matters, and you are trying. I see it.”

The orange emotion just stared at her in awe, and her smile grew wider.

“Thank you, Ennui. You really are the best.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Anxiety looked at Ennui’s hand that was resting on her cheek and put her right hand on top of hers, and kissed her palm. Revealing a shocked glance and gasp from Ennui. Her cheeks now forming a dark blush herself.

“But I will, ma chere.”

Ennui swiftly pulled her in her arms again embracing her. Anxiety wrapped her arms around Ennui as well and ran her fingers through her long hair. A couple minutes passed and Ennui looked down at Anxiety.

“Anxiety? Are you ready to try and go back to sleep?”

Anxiety yawned.

“Yeahh. I’m exhausted.”

“We should get some sleep. We have to get up in a couple hours.”

“Can I please sleep with you tonight? I don’t want this to end yet and I don’t want to be alone.” Anxiety asked a little desperate in the end.

“Oui, oui. Of course. Come, allons-y.” Ennui said in a caring tone, grabbing Anxiety’s hand. She led her to her bed, the others were still knocked out. Ennui climbed and scooted to her right side of her bed and laid down on her left side. Anxiety climbed afterwords and laid down next to Ennui, trying to give her space. This only made Ennui pull her closer, making Anxiety release a soft yelp and rested her head on her chest again. Ennui’s arms wrapped around Anxiety and used one to yank the cover over them.

Anxiety yawned, her eyes heavy. Ennui smiled softly and kissed her forehead and the crown of her head gently.

“Sleep now, chere. Everything will be okay. I will be here if you need me.”

Anxiety nodded and shut her eyes, soon breathing softly but not with fear, indicating she fell asleep. Ennui placed a final kiss on her forehead and rested her chin on Anxiety’s head.

“Bonne nuit, mon amour.” Ennui whispered lovingly.

Ennui closed her eyes and the two emotions slept in each others embrace until Riley woke up. No one understood why Anxiety and Ennui were sleeping on the same bed but decided not to bring it up. Joy thought it was very sweet and couldn’t stop talking about it for a bit during that morning.

(Been having inside out/inside out 2 brain rot for the past week. I can’t stop looking, watching reading, content about it. It’s genuinely an amazing franchise. Also anxiety and ennui have been on my mind lately, ennui’s my fav lmao. I see the chemistry between these two. I’m a little embarrassed (No pun intended) to share this and thought it was a bit out of character on ennui’s part but reading over it so much I didn’t think so much. ANYWAYS enjoy to my anxiety and ennui lovers!! ^ ^)

They’re the first two women I’ve ever written while writing LMAO

And I don’t think I need to say but if there’s gonna be any hate, leave ‼️

[ravens-two]

PICK A CARD reading

How do other people see you?

Pile 1 -> Pile 2

Pile 3 -> Pile 4

Decks used: Dark Wood Tarot & Green Witch Oracle

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Strength & Banana

Main Star sign energy: Leo & Cancer

Hi, Pile 1, Banana is the card of duality and so I think that it may be that people see you in very different ways, like you're not very consensual to the general public. The people you meet can't really decipher you, some perceive you to be incredibly nice, while others find you off-putting. However, with this card and Strength I also feel like people turn to you a lot for advice. People find you to be very wise, and most of all, impartial. They trust that you will see things from every perspective and offer the best advice you can. This also means that some people see you as a devil's advocate, because you insist on giving voice to different points of view.

In general, I think that people perceive you as being very outspoken, you don't shy away from conflict, but you don't go looking for it either. It's just that it naturally finds a way to you and you can't help but stand up for yourself and others. I also feel like other people find you to be a very calming presence, I think that it's mix of it just being your vibe, but also that they know that they can count on you to help solve any problem that might come up.

A bit random, but I think that you are known to make dirty jokes and also your sense of humor is very underrated, kind of deadpan and sometimes others can't tell if you're being serious or not.

Other people see you as being very confident in yourself, even if you don't feel like that. There's a sort of confidence that shines through you. Also, you are known as being very loyal to your friends.

Pile 2

6 of Cups & Lemon

Main Star sign energy: Gemini, Scorpio & Cancer

Pile 2 the first thing I'm getting with your group is that you have big Cancer energy. Being with you feels like coming home. I think that the people closest to you feel almost "mothered" by you, I mean this in the best way possible, they know that they can count on you to make them a nice cup of tea, pull out a blanket and hear out their problems. You have a very safe presence.

Some not so nice energy that is also coming through is that some people think that you're stuck in the past. This sentence is coming through very clearly like this to me, but I think that it will apply differently to each of you. It might be a bit literal, like you refuse to embrace new technologies for example or it could be more like you are frequently reminiscing about the good old days. I think that sometimes you are seen as being a bit sad, like filled with ennui if that makes sense. Despite that, I think that you are someone who remembers. You always know your friends birthdays and you remember the little details about their lives, and they appreciate this so so much.

With the lemon card I think that you are very talkative, but only when you feel comfortable. And the interesting thing is, when you get to the stage where you're really really comfortable you start to hold back less and less and you end up being a bit mean with your words. You're not trying to be mean, but they might sting a bit because you're brutally honest. Also, with lemon being the card of cleansing I think that your friends perceive you as being very good at cleaning. I mean this both in a literal sense (lol) and metaphorically. You're good at closing old chapters and cleaning out the old to bring in the new (with a twist too, because you always make space for the memories). You give me this vibe of it doesn't matter if it was good or bad, it matters that it happened.

Pile 3

Empress & Orange

Main Star sign energy: Virgo & Taurus

Pile 3 people see you as being full of life and energy. You are the life to her party, even if there isn't a party, you know how to cheer and pump up the people around you. I also think that people find you very charming and they love to hear you talk. In fact, I think that others love being around you and being around your energy, because it's just so big. Do you know that poem about the orange? In this metaphor you are the orange.

There's also this really interesting vibe that you are very sensual, it could be like sensual as in sexy, but like sensual as in using your senses. You love eating, you love listening to music, you love pretty things. I think that your friends and acquaintances even always ask you about restaurant recommendations and stuff like that. Also, other people love your style and your aesthetic. In fact, they really admire how cohesive you look.

Others also see you as someone who is incredibly creative and that is always filled with ideas. Honestly I think that most of you are either studying arts/design/etc or you work in those areas. You are known for your work. There's also this thing that if one of your friends has a problem they will come to you if they need an out of pocket solution. Like, you always have one. Your friends love your sense of humor, it's always so random and unpredictable. And I honestly think that you might be very popular on social media.

Pile 4

7 of Swords & Pea

Main Star signs energy: Pisces & Aquarius

Hey pile 4, you are the embodiment of chaotic energy. I don't think that anyone can pin you down, and when someone thinks that they have you figured out you immediately prove them wrong. This is big Aquarius energy honestly, not with the chaos, but with the fact that you see things in such a different manner that no one can predict what you are going to do or say next. I also think that you're the type of person to lie for fun (nothing serious of course, but just making up a whole different life to some stranger you'll never see again).

You are filled with ideas and people find you to be a good communicator. In particular I think that you're good with speaking and writing. There's also this vibe that your friends never know when to expect an answer to their texts, it could be immediately or three weeks later.

Your mind is very very busy, always buzzing with new ideas and scenarios and I think that sort of comes across to other people who think you are a bit scatterbrained. Also, people think that you are very smart. I am also getting this vibe that you have a sharp tongue, especially when it comes to social commentary. Sometimes you'll make a sarcastic comment about something around you, but not everyone will get it and those people find you a bit weird. You may get lost while telling a story, going on multiple tangents to explain your train of thought. And I also think that you get distracted easily. Some people find that a bit annoying, but your friends find it endearing.

There's this type of trickster energy here with the 7 of Swords so it might be that you are known for pulling pranks on your friends. Your presence is very fun, but sometimes a bit unsettling because again, no one knows what you're going to do next.

[toon-tales]

Is Anxiety the villain in Inside out 2?

First, let's get something straight:

These. Are. Emotions. Not. Persons.

Here's the thing, Fear isn't about being scared, nor Disgust is about being disgusted, nor Sadness is about being sad, and etc...

Sadness is about sympathy, understanding and listening and offering comfort

Embarrassment is about being careful not to draw attention, feeling ashamed, exposed, even regretful

Anger is about needing justice, feeling mad when someone does something that bothers you

Fear is about protecting, not just being scared

Disgust is about avoiding toxicity, physically and socially

Ennui is about irritation, pointlessness, feeling empty

Envy is about not feeling complete, feeling like everyone is better than you and you're lacking something

Now, to Anxiety.

I don't think you people know what anxiety is. Anxiety is a complex and misunderstood condition. It's more than just feeling stressed or worried; anxiety can be an overwhelming sense of dread that something bad is going to happen, even if there's no clear reason for that feeling. It's a state of being that can affect one's entire perception of the world, making everyday tasks seem daunting. Playing hockey, in Riley's case, is proof of that. That's her favorite sport we're talking about and all of a sudden it's a competition, an exhausting one

Anxiety often also manifests as a deep-seated need to maintain control over one's environment or circumstances. It's a relentless whisper in the head, suggesting that if things are not managed just so, something terrible may occur

And what did Anxiety do? Just that - took control

However, anxiety isn't that bad when it's controlled. It can actually be quite beneficial, serving as a catalyst for action and a motivator for change. Controlled anxiety can sharpen focus, enhance creativity, and even drive efficiency. It's like an internal alarm system, a gentle reminder of forgotten stuff

Like what happened in the end

Now, to Joy

Joy is great because it makes us feel happy and full of energy. But, it's not always perfect. Sometimes, if we're too happy, we might not want to try new things or be ready for when bad times come. Also, if we keep trying to be happy all the time, we might end up feeling sad because being happy all the time is hard. Which is what happened to Riley in the first movie

Joy, like a bright light, can sometimes overshadow other parts of our experiences. It's not that it erases parts of ourselves, but rather, it can make us temporarily forget the challenges and complexities that shape who we are. When we're caught up in a moment of joy, it's easy to overlook the lessons we've learned from difficult times. However, these aspects of our identity are not lost; they're simply out of focus. Once the intensity of joy dims, the rest of our experiences can come back into view. But with no joy to ease them, other emotions kick in, especially anxiety

Now, what's the case here? It's simple, really

The case is that Riley couldn't control her anxiety. Why? She wasn't complete, not yet, she didn't know what she wanted. But in the end, she embraced herself, all of herself, then she managed to control her emotions

Thaaaaat's it! Hope you guys liked it! As usual, feel free to add or comment on anything!

[daguerreotyping]

Carte de visite of two ladies embracing in the throes of passion and/or ennui, c. 1860s

[mageknight14]

I made a whole Twitter thread about this a few months back but I figured that I might as well bring it here as well.

Today I want to take some time to make another NEO TWEWY analysis post on the Identity Crisis sidequest revolving around Eiru and how it actually provides extra insight into Nagi and Fret’s characters.

Basically, the main gist of the sidequest is that Nagi and Fret are debating on how to imprint confidence onto Eiru, who’s suffering with his physical insecurities, and this is where we see the differences with Nagi and Fret's philosophies on life.

Fret's response is to tell Eiru to ignore the haters and even more so, ignore confronting the insecurities; life is better when you don't have to concern yourself with anything or try; don't take anything seriously. Nagi, however, believes that insecurities should be understood and harnessed so that they can ultimately be turned into a strength that can be used as a tool for success; accept your weaknesses and come to terms with them so that you can weaponize your strengths better.

On a surface level, these might read to be the same thing. Fret’s advice can be read positively as "don't let others judge you for something you can't control" and Fret certainly thinks so, hence why he thinks that he and Nagi are on the same page even though she disagrees.

However, when you read between the lines and think about it some more, there are notable implications that Fret's advice is more of a dismissive approach to dealing with emotional struggles as opposed to Nagi's own methodology. It’s no coincidence that Fret used to be a fan of the Eiji "the Prince" Oji in his ennui/apathy phase. The Prince in the original TWEWY was beloved for his “don’t give a damn attitude” and how he expressed that both in person and in his blog “F Everything.” Fret claims to have grown out of it but with certain reveals about his character later on, there are some implications that Fret latched onto the Prince and aspired to his attitude due to his own struggles with feeling genuine and wanting to embracing apathy instead.

However, if you recall in the original game, Neku and Joshua came around and helped the Prince sort out his own issues and in the process, helped him to become more genuine and true to himself in the process. With all of this in mind, you can interpret Fret’s response as him seeing the process of the Prince’s reconciliation with his genuine emotions happening in front of him and didn’t want to confront the possibility of that happening to him as well so he "grows out of it." It also acts as a neat parallel to Neku and his own thing with CAT. Whereas Neku latched onto his misinterpretation of CAT’s words in order to cope with his trauma, Fret turned away from the Prince changing so that he wouldn’t have to deal with his own trauma just yet.

To get back to the quest, if player had decided to choose Fret's philosophy, Eiru ends up doing just that, spinning Fret's stance on the situation into self-motivating positivity. However, there's a element of emotional responsibility lacking in Fret's way of processing struggles in that he doesn't seem to have the awareness to recognize the difference between overcoming adversity and just ignoring it (or maybe he does but refuses to confront that truth). In order for someone to truly not care what other people think, they need to do what Nagi suggested first, which is to find acceptance with their insecurities and build a stronger foundation for their character through that acceptance.

If the player chose Fret's approach to solving Eiru's issue, his dialogue afterwards shows how he feels about not having to face issues head on, with Nagi lamenting that her approach was not used despite being glad that Eiru's mood was visibily improved.

I also really like this moment here for how it subtly foreshadows what caused Fret’s attitude and way of thinking to happen in the first place.

Stuff like this is why I always tend to roll my eyes whenever I hear the claim that "Nagi is mean to Fret for no reason" when moments like these show why she acts the way she does towards him: their philosophies on life are complete polar opposites.

In Nagi’s eyes, Fret acting the way he did screamed to her that he seemingly had no regard for how his attitude and actions towards others made other people feel in service of his own self-interest and she fundamentally cannot get along with other people of that nature, as shown with how she dismisses Motoi entirely off the bat when the crew first meets him because she could tell that there was something off about his attitude. However, once it was revealed that Fret’s attitude was due to him trying to unhealthily cope with his trauma and not because he was seemingly unconcerned for the feelings of others, she’s far more understandable towards him and empathizes with his grief.

That’s when Nagi learns to understand that she does not need to dismiss people right away and that they, like Fret, might be going through struggles of their own and trying to cope with it via other means, even if she doesn’t agree with it at first. Hence the friendship they start up at the end of the convo.

The characters in NEO have a lot of internal flaws they need to work through, some that might not be immediate obvious at first compared to the original, but when you look back at it all, the game goes through a lot of painstaking detail to flesh out their struggles and mindset and aspects like these is what makes the game a joy for me to replay whenever I go back to it.

[crownedinmarigolds]

For vtm oc ask game, 5, 9, 14, 22, 25, 45, 46, and 48 for Pavarti!!

I love methuselah ocs I wish there were more of them in the vamily!!!

Oh my gosh! So many questions for her excellency! Thank you and ahhh! The Elders are so rare these days!! <3

5. Who is their sire? She does not know her Sire, she was basically shovel-headed while fetching water one night outside of her village! It was a lone wandering Ravnos who had been feeling a little peckish as they wandered the jungle paths between villages, and poor Parvati had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time. 9. Do they have a childer? Parvati has one Childer she created a long time ago during one of her many Sabbaticals. Parvati doesn't speak of her or to her, and it seems what little information that's been gleaned leads to two possible reasons she did it. The woman had been a queen about to commit suicide thanks to the death of her king husband and the coming of an invading force, but Parvati Embraced her instead of letting her die with honor. Was it gleeful cruelty to extend her suffering, or a distant compassion perhaps? That's completely locked within the mind of the ever quiet Parvati. Her Childe has many things to say about the situation, and a few of them are related to how many times she's had to see her story weirdly overblown in a lot of modern Bollywood. At least she's a Deepika Padukone fan! Parvati also - thanks to the magics of the Setites, her own, and the Giovanni - has a flesh and blood child with her husband... if that counts! 14. How did they initially feel after being embraced? Did they like being reborn into something knew or did it take them a while to cope with their new reality? Parvati has had a lot of time to think since her rebirth, and had been alone for a very long time before she really crossed paths with other Kindred. The way she woke up from her Embrace made her monstrous, and she seemed to take her new life in a strange stride. She's coped with it by embracing what she is, choosing to be more animalistic and accepting her new place as simply a new part of the food chain. 22. What are their thoughts on other predator types? Parvati doesn't really bother herself with the actions of others unless it directly affects the temple. If the other types aren't encroaching on their territory it does not matter. Hunting is hunting. 25. How often do they cause a masquerade breach? Parvati like her husband is a walking masquerade breach though not quite as egregious as he is. She stands too still, she doesn't blink, her gaze is too ferocious, there's something unsettling about her striking beauty. While her husband is a serpentine man glittering with gold, she has a look that would tell any clear-minded individual that she is a dangerous predator. 45. What are their disciplines? Parvati is a Phuri Dae Ravnos, so she baseline has Animalism, Auspex, and Chimerstry - nearly all mastered in her old age. She's walked in the jungles with the animals and has slept beside and fed from them. She is a avid mind reader, nearly all conversation to be had with her is through telepathy. Her Chimerstry paired with her knowledge of Sadhana make her terrifying if you are lured into her domain. Harrakhty's flock and haven are always protected with his Obfuscate and her Chimerstry combined. She also knows a couple of dots of Serpentis as she has been brought into the Followers of Set fold and is married to a prominent branch's Hierophant. 46. What are their ambition(s) if any? Parvati has reached a state where her ambition is enjoying however many days she has left. Not quite in a state of ennui, but also not quite in a state of motion, she simply enjoys what she has access to. 48. Detail things about your OC you spent a lot of time on! Let's seee.... Parvati is just about the oldest character in our VTM repertoire! She was Embraced during the Bronze Era of ancient Northern India. She's older than Harrakhty both in terms of actual age and physical age, but is younger Generation-wise when it comes to their bloodlines. She survived barely the curse of Zapathasura, having gone mad within the Setite temple but thankfully non-lethally taken down by her husband in his God form. I love my lady so much!!

[cozykittengirl]

Anxiety: *Panicking LH*

Ennui: *Grabs her and pulls her onto the couch to cuddle*

Anxiety: Ennui! What are you doing? We still got a lot of stuff to do!

Ennui: You worry too much, I think it’s time for a break.

Anxiety: But we need to be prepared ( Although I have to admit she is pretty warm… *yawns* and comfy… too comfy ) *falls asleep in her warm embrace*

Ennui: *Smirks* ( I knew that would work )

[thenadnerb02]

Inside Out Theory Concluded / Thoughts on Inside Out 2 [MAJOR SPOILERS]

Well, here we are folks. Four and a half months after I came up with my Inside Out theory based on the first movie and the sequel’s teaser, and two months after I continued on from that with the proper trailer, Inside Out 2 is here! 

So now that the movie’s come out, how well does my theory hold up? Well, let's discuss.

(Also, I had the great honor to see the first 35 minutes a week early at an event attended by Pete Docter at the Museum of the Moving Image, and a couple of the things he said in the post-screening interview will be referenced here.)

Again, major spoilers for Pixar’s latest movie. If you don't want to be spoiled, then come back.

—————SPOILERS BELOW THIS LINE—————

Okay, quick recap: I theorized that the 4 new emotions are directly influenced by the actions, thoughts, etc. of the main 5. They’re the embodiments of combinations of emotions and they can physically manifest now that Riley has matured. I figured that this would be the big twist of Inside Out 2. Well, was it?

No. No it wasn’t…

While I don’t think the theory is completely invalidated, it doesn’t mesh well with the second half of the movie.

When I first developed this theory, I had in mind that the new emotions would be fully aware of their connection to the old ones, but it’s clear this isn't the case. Anxiety initially has no idea what's going on when Joy and co. start envisioning positive outcomes of the hockey game, Embarrassment is surprised when he notices Sadness sneaked back into Headquarters, Ennui is shocked to discover Sadness stole her phone, etc.

Plus, the theory hinged upon the fact that Riley has demonstrably felt the new emotions before, but Inside Out 2 provides us a new plausible explanation for how that could be.

This room right here! While never explicitly referred to as such in the film, Docter called this a waiting area for emotions before it's their time to appear in Headquarters. And if Nostalgia is there 10+ years ahead of schedule, then there’s no reason why Anxiety, Envy, Embarrassment, and Ennui wouldn’t have been there during the first film. Their presence meant Riley could still feel those emotions even if they didn’t have access to the console yet.

And as cool as it would’ve been for my theory to be correct, after seeing Inside Out 2 I'm kind of glad it wasn't. The movie’s overall message is to embrace every part of yourself, and thinking that some of those emotions aren’t fully-formed beings of their own doesn’t sit right with me anymore.

Oh well.

Now, onto the second half of this post. As someone who deals with anxiety on a regular basis, I must commend Pixar on how accurate the emotion is depicted here. One thing I didn’t think of before I saw the movie (but in retrospect I feel like I should have) is how in addition to the worrying we often associate with the emotion, Anxiety also works hard to push Riley forward.

Sometimes my anxiety leads to endless worrying about the future, but it also pushes me to be productive and try new things. Funny how it can be both a motivator and a de-motivator at the exact same time.

For starters: catastrophizing about every possible bad outcome to a situation.

This is definitely something I experience during stressful situations. Sometimes I try to rationalize this under the belief that assuming the worst will make good things feel better, but ultimately (just like Anxiety), I get so focused on the worst that could happen that I disregard the possible good outcomes. But just like we see in the movie, it’s unhealthy to simply hyperfocus on the bad possibilities.

Another experience I have with anxiety is fretting over things in the far future when there’s much more pertinent things that could be focused on instead. For example, I won’t begin my grad school animation program for another two months, but sometimes I worry about it as if I’m already neck-deep in my M.F.A. I don’t have to stress over that right now, but sometimes I can’t help but do it anyway.

We see this at the end of the movie, where Anxiety spirals about Riley’s distant future, but eventually Joy calms her down by reminding her she doesn’t have to worry about that right now. (And she gets her Anxie-Tea!)

The belief threads and sense of self are cool additions to the canon of Inside Out. (A sense of self definitely feels like something a person would have before age 12, but let’s not think about that too much right now.) And the thing in this movie I found relatable most of all is what happens to the sense of self once Anxiety takes the reins of Riley’s life: it goes from “I’m a good person” to “I’m not good enough.” And I can say with 100% certainty that this kind of distressing self-talk is what happens when anxiety shapes one’s sense of self.

Anxiety literally forcing other emotions out of HQ is an excellent metaphor for what it feels like when anxiety gets extreme. We make no room for other emotions as anxiety builds up, and as we do our mental health state only grows worse.

(Although from my personal experience at least, this “I’m not good enough” mentality actually involves envy as well as anxiety, since what you’re really thinking is “I’m not good enough in comparison to others.”)

At the end of the day, Anxiety wanted what was best for Riley. She really, really did. It’s painful to watch her panic so much that Riley seemed to be close to a heart attack. And yeah, that’s what anxiety attacks are like — we get too caught up in worrying for the future that we forget to have joy.

And while we shouldn't let our sense of self be shaped solely by anxiety, we can't just repress the parts of ourselves we don't like Joy was initially doing with certain memories.

It's by finding that perfect balance and loving every part of ourselves that we can avoid complete breakdowns.

And it can be hard. It really can. As the film so poignantly notes, we tend to feel less joy as we get older. We can’t just have fun all the time like when we were little kids, but at the same time all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

We have a complete rainbow of emotions inside our heads, and even when things get hard and overwhelming, we must embrace all of our emotions because they all have an important role to play.

Or as Disgust puts it:

“You must make your curse your gift.”

[cogitrot]

The fact you need Nightmares 5 in order to pick the Watchful option during the process of becoming a POSI is so funny, actually.

Having a meeting with the Ambitious Barrister and she's over here judging the degree of your sallow complexion and facial spasms. Your eyes have better not focused once this whole conversation. You need to look like the next loud noise will either cause you to burst into tears or dissolve into molten rage or give in to the sweet embrace of eternal ennui with no middle ground whatsoever. She knew you had potential!

[chorizontal]

A Year in Film: How Four Movies Helped Me Understand Being Sick

It’s so important in this life to be aware that whatever you think your personal rock bottom is, there is another, deeper, rockier bottom lurking beneath it. I started the year with resolutions to have a more fulfilling year- believing life couldn’t get any worse than 2023. The linear conception of time will fuck you, embrace anarchy or pay the price.

One of my resolutions for a fulfilling year was to build on a project I had been calling ‘Film Homework’ and watch more movies. Film Homework was really born out of social pressure. When you’re 15 and obsessed with Step Up 2 it might be charming; when you’re 28 and people can’t even talk about Star Wars without being met by your vacant stare, you’re a blight on most small talk. I know about TV, but pathologically binge watching TV isn’t impressive, it’s not something people do when they’re well. Try looking someone in the eye and telling them you watched all 6 seasons of Glee in 3 weeks, in 2022 no less. So I started a list: Every time someone would mention a film I hadn’t seen, or I saw someone post about a film they’d enjoyed, or a list of “50 movies you HAVE to see before you die” I would jot it down. Since I started this project in July 2023, I have watched 209 films from the list. 

Sideshow Bob with his infinite supply of rakes underfoot would look at the year I’ve had and count his blessings. For better or worse, this year has been defined by my relationship to my illness. Between January to May, I built a life for myself where my POTS was well managed. This was rapidly undone when I was reinfected with Covid in May. Since then, I have been largely housebound. Coupled with being made redundant, this has facilitated a commitment to films typically reserved for the worst man you’ve ever met in your life. In full sincerity, Film Homework has changed my life. I am changed by the films I’ve seen and my world is expanded with each one I watch. Four films in particular have stayed with me this year: Melancholia, La Chimera, Miracle Worker, and Angels in America. Since watching them I haven’t been able to put them down, in my quieter moments I find myself revisiting a particular scene or dialogue, or stewing over a character’s decisions. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they all touched the part of me that seeks to understand my disability. 

Melancholia (2011)

Lars Von Trier’s Melancholia was a great idea, poorly executed. The movie, which begins by showing a world ending collision with a meteor, examines the different coping mechanisms of a family in the days before disaster. Kirsten Dunst, whose performance of depression was so visceral I could feel her ennui setting into my bones through sheer osmosis, is indifferent to it. Her sister’s husband intellectualises the event to feel control. Her sister plans to kill herself and her child. In the end (SPOILER), the husband ends up being the one who kills himself. The rest of the family die by meteor.

My lifetime of finely honed depression meant I responded to the pandemic’s arrival in much the same way as Kirsten Dunst’s character. Which is not to say that I coped with it well, but that I was resigned to my inability to control it. My main worry was that I was at risk for Long Covid. This was borne out in 2021, when I got a mild bout of Covid and never got better. I have since been diagnosed with POTS, which sits under the Long Covid umbrella. There’s a grim relief to being able to look your worst case scenario in the eye. I don’t have to worry that Long Covid will come knocking for me because she’s let herself into my house: She's sitting on my lungs when I try to climb the stairs; forming a fog in my brain when I try to read; ringing in my ears when I’ve been standing upright too long. I can’t get her to leave, she’s moved in and now I have to get used to her. The moral of the story? If the meteor is going to hit you, why not resign to total dissociated depression and then see if there are any pieces left to pick up in the aftermath. Or something.

La Chimera (2023)

I feel like I exist separate from time. Somewhere along the way I got knocked out of the continuum and if I reach out I can touch it but I can’t step back into it. Chronic illness necessitates a different approach to time. Thinking about the past involves grieving while expectations of the future tend to bring anxiety and disappointment. It’s healthiest for me to take each day as it comes. Alice Rohrwacher’s La Chimera is a beautifully shot film that follows Josh O’Connor as he uses his unusual supernatural ability to find graves to help a group of grave robbers in Italy. He is haunted by the death of his ex-girlfriend and is constantly searching for her through time, inching ever closer to death. At one point, just before the robbers break into a perfectly preserved grave, you see the inside of the crypt, with its walls covered in vibrantly coloured paintings. As the lid is lifted and light touches the paintings, the colours immediately dull and become old. Sometimes, when I’m at my most housebound, I feel like I’m in that crypt and I’m perfectly preserved and the outside can’t reach me and each day passes and the next one comes and I am untouched by what is new. And then I am reminded that time is still passing for everyone outside and they are changing and then my lid lifts a little and the light touches me and suddenly my colours are fading and I am still the same but I’m not anymore, I am different if only by virtue of my response to this new context. I am worn and I am not vibrant and I am out of step with a world that moves without me and as I write this I am thinking about how it’s a really good thing I’ve pledged to find a therapist before the new year.

Miracle Worker (1962)

Sometimes a film will make me feel so much that my chest hurts. I have flashes of thoughts and feelings but they’re gone as fast as they appear, replaced by this feeling like the very molecules that make me whole are clashing into each other, creating enough kinetic energy to burst right out my skin. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell whether this movie was good or not. I know I did not enjoy it. Arthur Penn’s Miracle Worker tells the true story of Helen Keller’s childhood growing up deaf and blind. At the start of the film, she is shown to be nearly feral as her parents have given up any attempt to discipline her. It is not until they hire a Nanny- herself disabled- that Helen is treated as a child with agency. The film raises questions about the line between discipline and abuse, the importance of disabled community, the damage caused by the infantilisation of disabled people, and the interaction between class and disability. 

Disabled Community (voluntary): a group of people who share a common approach to disability, recognise shared experiences, and advocate for collective empowerment. Disabled Community (involuntary): everyone who’s ever existed and their opinions on your health. I try to explain my illness and before I know it I am defending myself and justifying my actions. I worry about whether the new person I’ve met will believe something they can’t see, or if I’ll ever be able to do a job I enjoy that is also willing to meet my access needs. I want to lay myself bare, split myself open and watch all the symptoms pour out of me, have these invisible manifestations of a faulty nervous system become visible. I want to be understood totally, I want you to feel in your heart how hard every day is for me, but I don’t want my need for support to be mistaken for ceding agency. I feel like I’m in a nightmare where I’m trying to scream but I can’t find the air in my lungs and my head hurts and I haven’t figured out I’m in a nightmare yet so I’m just trying and trying and no sound will come out and I’m so afraid but I can’t get anyone else to understand how scared I am because I can’t make a sound. I can feel all the words in my chest and I’m so upset and any second now I’m going to try so hard to scream that I’ll force myself awake and I’ll say to myself “oh that was just a nightmare”.

Angels in America (2003)

Mike Nichols’ Angels in America is a film/miniseries adaptation of Tony Kushner's play by the same name. The story is set during the AIDS crisis, centring themes of community, freedom, and loss. Like The Miracle Worker, Angels in America left me feeling like emotional popcorn, each intense, fleeting feeling its own kernel. If I try to focus on any one part of the film, I find myself returning to the character of Louis. Louis made me want to scream at the screen. He made me want to text my friends like he was someone we knew. In fact, Louis, who is full of left wing ideals that he expounds constantly, is in this sense indistinguishable from any left wing man you might meet at an after party. Louis is filled with guilt because his ideals are at odds with his desire for an individual freedom without consequences. He wants freedom to be divorced from the responsibility of community and those he loves, and to be supported for making these choices. For me, Louis’ character represents the left’s ongoing issues with ableism and crip solidarity. Particularly solidarity that requires a perceived impingement on individual freedom, something that is increasingly framed as a kind of right that supersedes collective liberation. 

Louis fears true love and feels that love is a burdensome responsibility. On the contrary, I have never known love, care, and community like I have since becoming disabled. Often, when I’m engaging in hypothetical bargaining exercises in the marketplace of awful coping mechanisms, I’ll wonder about what life could have been like if I hadn’t become disabled. Would I trade an able body if it meant losing everything I have now? I don’t think I could. Even housebound my life is so much richer than it was before I got sick. I am so much closer to people who know me and love me exactly as I am and to understanding myself and my commitment to my politics. Individualistic freedom without consequence is a myth, we should not strive for it and we certainly shouldn’t believe it is our right. Our ties are the path to collective liberation. We owe so much to each other. 

[lolitalempicka]

summer so far: death of love, embracing the ennui, chanel red nails, psy trance, tarot readings, mild alcoholism, abstaining but also sex everyday, loving loneliness

[brunettedelulu]

Why is creativity so challenging to cultivate these days ?

I am bored. Currently, I am dying of boredom. I try my hand at new activities: painting, reading, sculpture, photography... but to no avail, I remain bored. I attempt to pass the time on my phone. But even that fails to entertain me. I know we are no longer in the era of Louis XIV, where courtiers were plagued by ennui and had few diversions. I am simply trying to pass the time. So, I asked myself, why do all these activities I listed no longer entertain me? In other times, they would have been highly appreciated, wouldn't they? But then, why is creativity—our originality, our personality, this complex concept—so difficult for most young people today to develop?

Constant Hyperstimulation

The contemporary era, saturated with information and entertainment, crushes our capacity to tolerate boredom. This sensory overload paradoxically sterilizes the mind. Boredom, once fertile ground for imagination, is now banished, smothered by a deluge of prepackaged content. Time, that precious ally of creativity, dissolves in the superficiality of easy clicks.

Dictatorship of Productivity

Today's society imposes a frenetic pace, valuing immediate performance and relentless efficiency. Young people, under constant pressure, see their creativity suffocated by the urgency to succeed. Experimentation, essential to creative growth, collides with the fear of failure and the cult of perfection. Creativity becomes a luxury, a space of freedom sacrificed on the altar of immediacy.

The Distorting Mirror of Social Media

Social media, with its showcase of idealized lives, exerts an ambivalent influence. It inspires as much as it discourages, fostering incessant comparisons and a sense of inadequacy. The achievements of others, displayed in their best light, crush confidence in one's own ideas, undermining the fertile ground of originality.

Mental Saturation

Omnipresent visual and auditory stimuli saturate the mind, making it impermeable to new ideas. Creativity, which requires space to breathe and flourish, is stifled by the continuous flow of pre-digested information. In this world where gratification is instantaneous, the room for imagination shrinks like a withering skin.

The Possible Renaissance of Creativity

And yet, all is not lost. Rediscovering creativity involves simple actions: regularly disconnecting, embracing boredom as an opportunity, and accepting that creativity is not a linear process. By relearning to savor the journey rather than the destination, we may perhaps reclaim that elusive creative spark.

[beeblackburn]

Top 5 favourite films?

Thank you, @hiddenlookingglass!

Before I continue, I have to give the obvious caveat that I haven't watched a ton of films, relatively speaking. I think most of these films were watched last year alone. And, making this list, I have to give honorable mentions, because, fuck me, originally this list was seven entries and, short of cheating this ask to write out top seven or ten, it was never going to happen without title-dropping the runner-ups, so here goes:

You Were Never Really Here: Take the premise of John Wick, drain it of all the orchestra and slickness, ground it in broken people, scarred by violence in childhood to adulthood, and polish it off with some of the tightest film editing and sound design in the industry, and you get my unquestionably favorite anti-violence film.

The Final Exit of the Disciples of Ascenscia: A lovely and tragic indie gem of an animated film about a cult, one that finally clicked the appeal of them without diminishing their harm, and one that breaks me in touching on my own questions of loneliness... and whether being in an unhealthy dynamic is better than being alone.

Paddington: The second one is undeniably an even better film, but this one's rain scenes and leisurely narrative feels cozier to me. Whenever I feel like complete dogshit, I rewatch this, because Paddington's charm and earnestness winning over the Browns before realizing he found his family and home with them is hrrgh.

The Green Knight: A visually sumptuous banquet of the senses, trippy and wondrous in how it depicts Gawain's knightly trials, with moral and literary themes that scratch my itches and a fantastic leading actor who carries the film, complete with an ending that brings it all home, landing with such an earned emotional punch.

The Witch: Eggers' mastery at inhabiting the psychological reality of his time periods is impeccable, and it all started with this horror tale of a family plagued by the supernatural outside their walls... and religious anguish and Puritan misogyny among its members. Paired with a hell of an ending and arresting last shot? Delicious.

And, now, onto the proper top five!

1. Everything Everywhere All at Once

Look, is the script overstuffed with exposition about how the multiverse works? Yes. Is it ultimately narratively unwieldly, even faking us out with a false climax, and increasingly uneven to the end? Yes. Are some of the jokes pretty juvenile in the "haha, dildos are funny" realm? Yes. Could it have been more queer? Yes. Is the conclusion a little too tidy and pat, especially for my Chinese childhood abused-ass? Yes, yes, yes. There are definitely fair criticisms that I can agree to, but...

Every time I revisit this film, it wrecks me a whole another way. I never escape this film emotionally unscathed, I philosophically and morally match to it like an alternate version of me jumped into my mind, slipped into my flesh. There are at least five scenes in it that crack me open like a chestnut and I'm left a blubbering mess and astonished at how it manages to tie together all the chaos at the end in such believable catharsis that I can still buy into.

It's still an amazingly-acted film that allows for a rough, unpleasant, and embittered middle-aged female protagonist to lead the events, quite a few ladies dictate and command the plot, and manages to juggle a ton of disparate tones, balancing genuine pathos with bathos, and emotional weight undergirding every bit of silliness and goofy concepts it throws at you. It's still a multiversal familial drama that, at the heart of it, is centered around the experience of what if our first-generation immigrant parents made different choices, that failure can be its own positive experience in a lifetime full of not living up to your parents-demanded potential, and that, in depressive ennui, loneliness, and intense nihilism, all we can do is love, embrace what little joys our speck of lives get, and be there for each other. That, despite the material hardships and pain of a life, our connections still matter enough to keep at it.

It throws the totality of everything beyond the universe at our minds and senses, even down to "talking" rocks and sausage-fingers people, calling to the sheer information overload that most everyone in 2022 felt keenly, acknowledging that it can be such a burden that threatens to hollow us out with existential indifference... and earnestly makes its own case against that. If nothing matters, if all we do and are is worthless in the grander scope of the universe, then these moments we're facing right now, the people in our lives, they matter.

We're not built to attend to everything everywhere all at once. We'll always feel the whisper of what-ifs, the weight of different paths not taken. We might even be useless alone. All we can really do, in the end, is be there for these moments and people around our present. I can't help, but cherish this film on those grounds, but it offered such an awe-inspiring, emotionally resonant experience that it jumps up to my favorite as a result.

2. Pig

How has this masterpiece of a debut, depicting grief, human connection, the heart and art being hollowed by loss and commercial concerns, and masculine vulnerability with such finesse, flown under the radar, nor been nominated for any major accolades? I'm genuinely asking, because, aside from maybe one particular scene that tries to fake us out into thinking it'll become a more conventional John Wickesque revenge thriller, I don't see any crucial flaws that wouldn't warrant it in the discussion as one of 2021's best films. If you haven't yet, treat yourself to one of the best films I've watched.

I watched one of its mid-section scenes, that speech, you know the one if you've watched it, on its own, and wept at the power of its acting, dialogue, and direction by itself. The fact that I still broke down, despite primed, when watching it in the context of the full film should tell you how good Sarnoski's hands are at his first try as director. He brings an intimacy and restraint to the camera in capturing the events in the film, often situating his central characters against the wider scope of his landscapes and environments through a wider lens, showing them as small people against the greater beasts of being scored by grief and loneliness.

Though, given I brought up John Wick, one facet these two share, despite the bait-and-switch of premise, is that almost every character, no matter how minor, has a personality and some texture of history with the protagonist, by direction or sheer acting. Sarnoski just trusts us to infer the weight of history between our characters and, if you want to know how well that approach turns out, Cage's performance should be the clear-cut sign. If you have any doubts of how good Nicholas Cage could be, and trust me, I had a few, this is easily his subtlest, most restrained performance. No signs of a Cage hamfest, this is him at his best and minutely controlled, portraying a stoic man whose hardened demeanor and lack of social graces belies a painful past and years spent in intentional human disconnect.

And how we disconnect from other people bleeds into this narrative, permeates like an unspoken wound that won't scar and heal without proper treatment. Our central characters are haunted by ghosts in the narrative, unable to process what they've lost or reach out to others, for fear of surrendering to the totality of pain from that absence. But there's also disconnect from retreating to what others want, never showing ourselves and only what's acceptable to our social peers, our patrons, or our families, and it costs us piece-by-piece until there's slowly nothing left of us.

And it ends up on an unexpected climax and such a gentle note about masculinity, about how men suffer in trying to bear their griefs stoically, instead of permitting a chink of vulnerability. I dare not spoil more, you have to see it for yourself in how it succeeds in defining its own terms for masculinity and how much emotion cracks through the narrative. It's a film that divulges into the nature of art and food, and how they can bring forth an invitation of connection to others, and it deserves so much consideration and attention, given how much of a powerhouse it is.

3. A Ghost Story

Oh, this sleeper hit of heartache. I knew, going in, that the ending scene would cut to the emotional bone, having checked it out in a clip before, but the knife this slid between my ribs was unexpected in its depth and sharpness, especially given when I watched it. This was after I watched both Pig and The Green Knight, both stellar, emotional films, and while I think Lowery's later work there is better put-together in both pacing and visuals (A Ghost Story absolutely has scenes that drag, and I genuinely think one in particular suffered from overstaying its moment and not fitting Lowery's strengths as a visual/atmospheric director), this touched me so much more in its statement of grief and time.

I've watched enough films to get a decent grasp on my tastes, and its meandering, contemplative, more mundane fares that let scenes breathe in their silence without a quippy aside. This one suffused me in its haunting, contemplative atmosphere from the halfway point, lingering onwards and well after it ended. Lowery's direction is grounded in its intimacy, choosing to focus long stretches on mundanities other directors would've skipped past, as if to say these small moments, daily and common as they are, are what's most important in the grand scope of life and what we focus on, despite the vastness on time upon us all.

And the time spent during grief is where the film guts me in its first half. Going from cozier domesticity, full of lived-in marital discussions and intimacies, to the tangle of strangers sorting through the post-death ceremonies and the silences in the griever's life, booming from the absence of their beloved. Those long, uninterrupted shots, from then on, serve to point out how life persists after our bereavements. There is such attention and empathy to the camera, in how the director wants to show how people cope with grief, how it dogs our every movement, weighs down our limbs, loosens out the tears inside, and make us focus our energies on such simple things like eating food in the dark, to fill the hole our losses leave behind.

But if some trace of us survive as ghosts, upon death, then loss cuts both ways, and it's here that this film truly unmakes me in how it handles grief and remembrance on the ethereal side. Using ghosts as a speculative vehicle, it invites us to see how differently they experience the passage of time, as these beings are temporally untethered, but stay geographically tethered to a particular land. There's such a bitter loneliness to their existences, how being unravaged by time means they are unable to grieve being left alone themselves, they cannot move on by the temporal march by itself.

It's a beautiful, tender film, where centuries can pass by in the blink of a transition, but tiny affections take up whole minutes. A quiet narrative where snapshots of marriage and the tolls of grief take up uninterrupted stretches, letting them sit inside us and linger. A poignant story that ponders, sincerely, if something, anything survives of us after we are gone from this earth, or if we are doomed to have our impact on this mortal plane swept aside and forgotten after we pass away and time moves on from us.

4. The Last Duel

I have a confession: this is my first and, so far, only Ridley Scott joint for various reasons. I don't love R-rated films, I easily get squeamish over live-action gore, and his biggest film and the one most people remember him by was Alien, which wasn't The Thing graphic, but definitely still above my comfort level! So I never touched him for a decade and a half. Now, later, I watched some of the earlier grisly parts of Game of Thrones and found out he directed plenty of period dramas, which was more my speed, and I got the opportunity to check his The Last Duel out with a group viewing. Now, given that preamble, imagine how I felt at its opening scene: a slow-burn of an opening with a lady being dressed before a duel between two men, shot in the same way they are being armored, as if she bears her life as well on the line, and bears witness to two knights charging at each other, before they converge, both hoping to break bones and shed blood.

That, and the subsequent Battle of Limoges, would absolutely impressed onto me that holy shit, Scott directs action in two minutes unquestionably better than some directors do in entire films. He portrays the inherent viciousness, filth, and ferocity of battle in a way that immediately clicked to me as a fan of Joe Abercrombie and a lesser one of Miles Cameron. And armor matters! But that, by itself, wouldn't have made for a favorite of mine. No, it's how this is a proper medieval legal drama with three central, compelling characters at its heart, each explored through a Rashomon-style framing device, and a heartbreakingly timeless message of what a rape victim's choices are in the patriarchy. Does it have its flaws? A few admittedly key ones of editing and dialogue that give away its directorial intent, but nothing so critical to weigh it down from its vaulted highs.

What's amazing about this film, and one of the key things I respect about it as someone who wants to write in that age, is how much, for the majority of its narrative, it is grounded in its medieval realities without turning its characters into anachronic mouthpieces. It has a showcase of warriors scarred and visually worn down by the wars they waged, discusses how the Black Death affected medieval economics and taxes, deals with betrothals and the dowries involved, and how waning wartime fortunes in a lord can sour the pot there, and the turmoil of marriage life, especially how reproductive knowledge intersected with beliefs about rape and love at the time. It admirably enmeshes itself so utterly in the culture of that age, that it's depressing to consider just how much patriarchal culture hasn't changed since then.

And how it divulges into patriarchal culture with nuance, and how women become victimized by it, is so key to making the proceeding duel all the more impactful. Because, as the framing device shows, these men don't come from a vacuum of their medieval culture, their egos and entitlements and self-justifications were shaped by their sexual circumstances and chivalric tales, and there are countless others like them who've done just as bad, if not worse, to others. It's why, even before the duel's outcome is set in stone, the crushing truth of the matter is... no matter the result, at least one individual dies, but the patriarchal apparatus stands, grinding up women in the future as it did the one witnessing the duel.

It's unflinching in its depiction of medieval culture, it's brutal in its violence, both warfare and sexual, and it demands an expectation of ambiguity in the character psychologies and gives no easy answers on how to deal with the patriarchy, especially when, as a lady of the time, you were dependent on the men who uphold it, at the mercy of their actions for your justice. It's why the last third is so harrowing: before the duel, before the trial, even before the incident, countless women went through similar horrors without the spectacle of public scrutiny. The final emotional context leaches the initial excitement when we return to the opening, leaving behind only cold understanding and terrible tension, no matter how much thrilling combat clashes and clangs in the winter air. It's my favorite period drama so far, and I don't expect it to be beat anytime soon.

5. The Secret of Nimh

Another confession: I didn't watch this, front to back, until the 30th Anniversary screening at my local Cineplex theater last year. Not that I didn't love what I saw in clips and pictures, but when the full film was on Youtube when I was in my teens, I neglected to watch it all the way, then it got taken down for a long while. There were other animated films and I didn't relish checking it out in separated clips. So, I knew a bit of what to expect, but boy, this whole film on the big screen was a greater feast for the eyes than any recent Pixar film I checked out. Does it have its problems? Yes, it's definitely narratively uneven, even rushed at times. I do wish some characters got more fleshed out and more time was given to the runtime, as a result. And I can 100% get the criticism of that climax resolution being a deus ex machina, even if I don't agree with it.

But, also, it's fucking The Secret of Nimh. Every frame here feels like it was downloaded from my mind, every sketchy bit of animated linework like it was distilled from my meaty head pulp. Its gothic and dark sci-fi aesthetics are unimpeachable to me, no other animated film comes close to approaching how much I viscerally crave their visual trappings. Say what you will about Bluth, and I certainly have my opinions about his stinkers, but even in them, the man and his team can draw up gorgeous, magical backgrounds and artistry. They're fascinating, lovingly animated and/or goddamn horny messes, bless them. You get a consistent grainy sort of texture in the linework, in the animation models themselves, that I can't help, but always adore with my eyes, hitting a sweet spot with me in this particular feature animation of his.

Even through the more childish trappings like Jeremy and the simplicity of the quest structure, how it balances those with its more heady themes always intrigues me further as an adult, like how we'll uplift our lesser animals before disregarding them, leaving them with the alienation and consequences of those experiments, and how the arrogance and selfishness of humanity manifests in our creations as a result. There's also bits of understated worldbuilding one catches better as an adult, like the fact that the non-Nimh associated female animals have no first names and are surname-defined by species (Auntie Shrew) or by male partner (Mrs. Brisby), suggesting a patriarchal ecological system. And, even before all that, the poignancy of a mother's quest to suck in her fears to protect and save her child from death only enriches with age.

None of this would hit as well, if not for the characters, even the supporting cast being animated to give them such fluid energy and expressive body language in the best of Bluth fashion. Most are dimensional enough in script to make the overall cast a cut above the typical animated fare, even the one-offs or the minor ones that appear in one scene or two. But the crown that completes the jewel of this production is the lead herself, Mrs. Brisby. She's easily one of the best, if not straight-up so, animated protagonists ever. Female leads weren't unknown back then, but mother leads? Almost unheard of, back then. And a huge part of that best status, what cements her place as such is that she's vulnerable throughout the movie. She's just a small mouse in a world full of giants and monsters, and she never fails to be scared at the vastness of the obstacles in her path. Yet, she doesn't whine, nor cower when the chips are down. By all accounts, her storied husband should've been the hero here, carrying out this mission to help cure his child... but he's gone, and Mrs. Brisby has to rise up to the occasion, stir up her courage to go on this sprawling quest, face down horrors and ancients again and again, all for her child. No one expected this of her, and she's always fearful every step of the way, but her conduct always reminds me of the GRRM quote, that being afraid "is the only time a man can be brave," which Mrs. Brisby demonstrates so much, with such earnest vulnerability.

The Secret of Nimh is a lot of things. It's a story about the vastness of the world as a little person in it through the perspective of a mouse, with horrors and monsters beyond your comprehension and understanding. It's a cautionary tale about human hubris towards nature and how our creations risk being condemned by the same flaws we ourselves succumb to. It's a three-way struggle between nature, science, and the unknown beyond our knowing grasp. It's a beautiful series of nature and grotesque sci-fi backgrounds and animation work, through some of the most expressive body language, facial emotions, and voice acting with talking animals, worthy of being Disney's creative challenge at the time, and especially now. It's a dreamy fairy tale narrative, where the hero must undertake a quest for a reward at the end, except this protagonist dwells in the shadow of the hero that should've been. Deep down, at its very beating heart, it's a mother journeying to the ends of her earth to protect and save her child, with fierce fear and clear courage. It's my favorite animated film.

[talenlee]

Story Pile: Pretty boy Detective Club

I feel like I’m going to need a chart for this one. And some kind of containment perimeter.

Pretty Boy Detective Club is a series of light novels that have an anime adaptation and that anime adaptation has a manga adaptation. The anime came to my attention thanks to my liking the music of Sumika, the band that made the opening song from the excellent anime Wotakoi. Sumika do a kind of jazzy pop song style, which suits Wotakoi‘s office vibe, and before that, they did the opening for this anime, a song called Shake & Shake.

TVアニメ「美少年探偵団」オープニングテーマsumika「Shake ＆ Shake」

Watch this video on YouTube

I’m not talking about the anime this time because I can’t watch the anime here in Australia for some reason, and instead I read the manga — which means I get a different set of cases to the anime, which is potentially a good thing, as we’ll see. Also this manga is part of and connected to the Monogatari novels, both in that they share an author, Nisio Isin, and the main character Mayumi Dojima shows up in both universes.

The two people who read this blog and Monogatari are going What? right now.

Anyway, uh, yeah, that’s the largesse of how this thing exists and why I know about it, and what spurred me to read it. The pitch is pretty simple: It’s a manga about a detective club full of pretty boys. To that end we’re going to discuss the pitch, the characters, the mysteries, and then the problem.

Before we proceed, though, you’re going to need a Spoiler Warning so I can feel free to talk about the twists and surprise in this stupid stupid series and also, Content Warning because we’re going to once again go to the Anime Age conversation!

At the heart of Pretty Boy Detective Club is a continuation of the wonderful tradition of what I think of as Ouran-likes; it’s an anime where a girl falls into what is ultimately a harem setup, a bunch of boys who all attend a club and who are all in their own ways desireable for her to either consider kissing, or to consider kissing one another. The club structure gives you a unifying aesthetic, a common space, and a typical thing to be doing from episode to episode, a habitual to be, and the series spends its time doing episode to episode introducing this girl to these characters and how they solve problems and do things.

Here, meet the protagonist Mayumi Dojima. She’s a girl, which obviously has some problems with Pretty Boy Detective Club, but don’t worry, we’ll get there. One day, pursuing a mystery and filled with the overwhelming ennui of wasting her life as a fourteen year old teenaged girl in Japan (hey, is Japan okay?), she stumbles into a club of pretty boys (don’t worry, you don’t need to know who they are), who tell her they are the Pretty Boy Detective Club (hey that’s the name of the book!).

There, she learns the four rules of the club:

Be pretty!

Be a boy!

Be a detective!

Be a club!

And honestly, this is the most charming thing about this manga for me. It might be showing at this point, but this manga is not as strong a story as I like, but here, this kind of central core aphorism appeals to me greatly. Each of these ideas can be knitted together into a whole idealised behaviour – things like expression, aesthetics, willingness to embrace one’s youth, sticking together, being curious – but it’s also just an obviously silly phrase that makes the speaker sound like they’re telling a joke. I love it!

What follows from here is some honestly fun good hijinks. After all, Mayumi isn’t a boy, so to fit in the club, she crossdresses. But then, fool, they make ‘him’ too hot, and that means for him to leave the class without a girl on his arm would be suspicious! But don’t worry, rather than, say, change the persona or fake identity they gave Mayumi, one of the boys then cross-dresses as a girl, to walk out with ‘him’!

This is, in my mind, delightful. That’s funny. That’s a kind of devotion to ridiculousness and a willingness to clown around with gender presentation that I find very endearing in characters. There is a humour at work here in this series that clearly recognises these ideas, like crossdressing and cute boys are appealing and you can have a fun time with a story that shows them off. There’s a joyful, comedic indulgence, a playfulness and all of this is lovely and fun, asterisk.

Good premise! Good pitch! Ouran type, crossdressing, characters who are extra and idiots!

Now, about those characters. There’s first of all Mayumi, who is an ordinary high school girl, asterisk, who starts the story off by trying to solve a mystery that started when she saw something at the age of four. Without going through all the steps, this winds up getting her attention of both nefarious forces and of also, the club. This club at introduction includes:

Manabu, the leader of the group, and owner of one of the two personalities in the club,

Nagahiro, the student council president and aloof, ponytailed sort of cardboard cutout with access to money and resources,

Michiro, the delinquent and tough guy as represented by never doing anything delinquent and mostly being a nonverbal chef,

Hyouta, one of the other personalities in the club in that he both likes showing off his legs and nonconsensually looking at peoples’ underwear, and I know that doesn’t sound like much but we are trying here,

Sousaku, who I don’t want to talk smack about because he seems to just be a sweet nonverbal autistic kid in the group but this is a Japanese show so even if that’s what they mean they’re not going to say it.

Now you might be thinking ‘hey, that’s kinda mean to say about those two characters and those three other things,’ but this is one of the areas that Pretty Boy Detective Club stumbles. It has a cast of six characters, but is only interested in three of them across five volumes of manga. Don’t worry, there’s still plenty to do with Manabu’s sock puppet accounts across the three-ish cases the manga covers.

These are, I must say, some top tier designs. Like, in the context of Pretty Characters, the characters in Pretty Boy Detective Club are very, very cute, and this manga covers a range of different ways to look good. The crossdressing looks are also really clever in how they incorporate very openly the original designs of the characters, and outfit components that let them hide details of the other identity. The characters also have different body language and stand, sit, and act around a scene in different ways that express different approaches to things.

(And yet they don’t have anything for most of them to do.)

Anyway, yeah, this indulgent manga is great at making indulgent art! It’s really enjoyable! Asterisk!

Next up we have the three mysteries covered by the manga series.

There’s a story about a missing painting on their school property. In this story, there’s a famous artist who it turns out is connected to the school, and an artwork of hers has gone missing somehow. The puzzle of the story is finding out why this teacher left or disappeared, and how she took her artwork with her. The whole of this story is built around considering loyalty to teachers versus loyalty to institutions and the importance of properly funding the arts department in your school.

The second story is about a rival school running an illicit casino, with pretend adult attendants, rigged games, and Sexy Outfits, asterisk. In this casino, our pretty boys play games and win them because they’re so smart, and then they lose a game because the house is running cheated games with special super-technological stealth devices. Dun dun dun! This is done for some nefarious ends about stealing information from the clientele, and if you know me, you know, you know I have beef about this, you know I’m going to be mad because I get mad every time you see a casino being used in a fictional space.

Anyway.

There’s also the story about how Mayumi has super-eyes that she needs to keep contained with her glasses, or she will go blind from looking at too many things, too well, with her too-perfect eyes, like that time she saw a Japanese government satellite doing a nuclear test in space, and therefore is witness to an international violation of multiple treaties. When this information is brought to light by our Detectives it comes out that in fact, Mayumi’s been stalked! Her whole life! To make sure she doesn’t let this information out! And suddenly she’s kidnapped and so is Manabu and Hyouta has to catch them on a bike but then he’s kidnapped and there’s a confrontation and a mystery resolution that happens because someone had money and a helicopter and wizardry, resolving everything. This story also features a really hot evil woman mercenary, so that’s nice.

Are these good mysteries?

No.

They’re really quite bad.

The best one is the art teacher one because the stakes are appropriate, the solution is coherent and there’s nothing they do with just spending piles of money to solve it. The problem and the solution make sense and the actual process of digging into it involves following clues a person left behind, and Sousaku gets to do some things, which is nice. It is, as a mystery story, the best one and the best place to start.

The Casino story is a real mess-up, though not the worst one. It’s a casino written by someone who doesn’t seem to have any interest in understanding how card games work. Frustratingly, they have Manabu sit down to play blackjack, which the narrative describes as ‘the tough stuff.’ Blackjack is one of the easiest Casino games to play. Then they have him describe that he doesn’t know the rules, ‘he’s just memorised some hands.’

That’s not how Blackjack works you ding dong.

It’s silly. It’s very very silly. I hate it when a series tries to use games to tell a story that gets worse if you understand those games. Casinos make money by getting people to gamble. They know they can take losses on any individual because that individual serves as an example of success that other people will use to judge. Games are balanced so the house wins. You know how an illegal casino makes money? It’s not by outsourcing military technology, it makes money by being a ding-dang casino.

And then that whole ‘nuclear satellite explosion’ plot? It’s fantastically silly. It involves the idea of a long-reaching government conspiracy that’s willing to stalk a child for her whole life, and not willing to kill her in the mean time or interfere with her life along the way. It’s this silly kind of honourable vision of an identity for the government, and the mystery is kind of deeply out of context. It requires so many new things to be introduced for the mystery to make sense — like, Japan doing nuclear testing with a satellite in outer space, and for our protagonist to be so good at seeing things she could have witnessed it at four years old.

Know what else makes these mysteries bad?

I’m listing them in reverse order.

This manga starts with the national conspiracy nuclear testing war crimes story and then scales down to an illegal casino run by ninnies and concludes with gosh don’t you miss that cool art teacher? This isn’t good structure. You typically want the start of a story to set the expectations for the rest of that story, and this story explicitly goes in the opposite direction, with the stakes decreasing at every step, with literally the only stakes for the final story being ‘well, I would like to know the answer to this’ rather than any kind of consequences or punishment.

Okay, then that means the mysteries are a disappointment, what else we got?

Alright, I said ‘asterisk’ a few times, and this is where this all comes up.

Way back when, when I wrote about Violet Evergarden, a cool anime series which inexplicably changed the source material to make the protagonist (an obvious adult) claim her age was 14 years old despite something like five years of experience and recovery as a military operative, I did so addressing what I consider ‘the speed run’ of a genre trope we file under ‘anime bullshit,’ which is to say, anime characters, their age, and when they get sexualised.

For the most part I don’t care about anime where teenagers are fucking teenagers because that’s a thing teenagers do and I know as a teenager it’s a thing I wanted to do. What tends to set off alarm bells for me is when a work treats sexual harrassment or objectification as a non-factor, which is why I actually dislike My Hero Academia more knowing that Mineta is around for the very end of the story. When a teacher or adult does this stuff and it’s just kind of meant to be treated as a funny background detail, that makes things worse and so on. Plus, for a lot of anime, the character being ‘fourteen’ is literally nonsense – fantasy kingdom heroes claiming to be fourteen years old despite a lifetime of experience is just in my mind, the author using that number because they think they should, and they’re wrong. It’s at the point where I now consider 14 years old to be a sort of Default Fake Age for anime characters where their life and resources are not explicitly linked to going to school.

If you have two full-time jobs, and a previous career you burnt out of, anime boy, you are not a fourteen year old.

This is however, a surface of Anime Bullshit, because there are depths to it, places it gets worse. Specifically, if an anime wants to centralise its story around a relationship across an age range, or if it wants to bring up things like consent laws. In Transformers: Who Cares there’s a long shot of a card showing the Romeo and Juliet Laws a character keeps in their wallet, which is pretty unnecessary unless you want to focus on it for some reason, and that kind of focus is important to recognise as something a story does as a choice.

Then, phew, Pretty Boy Detective Club really brings up age in weird ways.

You remember how I mentioned that Manabu is a really cute crossdresser? He’s part of the club that directs them to fly their helicopter to the beach when they’re investigating the murder and talks of all his experience being kidnapped and rescued, and then the story tells you he’s ten.

He’s ten.

Again: This is obviously nonsense. He is clearly not ten. Ten year olds do not behave or think like that. I know, I’ve met some ten year olds. I’ve met some really smart ten year olds. They are not encyclopedically constructing multiple crossdressing identities. This is because they are ten.

Okay, okay, okay, maybe it’s one thing, maybe it’s just because the main characters ‘have’ to be fourteen (which they don’t), that means that he has to a whole four years younger than them to make it funny that he’s in charge. He doesn’t attend the same school as them, since, again, they are high schoolers and he is ten and I feel like I’m belabouring this point but I’m just trying to underscore this was a choice. The choice to draw this anime prettyboy the way almost all the characters are drawn and then say ‘by the way, this one’s really underaged?’ That’s messed up.

But don’t worry, the story also touches on how Hyota, who is fourteen, likes to wear shorts, expose his legs, and wants to seduce an older woman. It mentions Hyota being intrusive and sexually harrassing other students as well, and then throws in that one of the characters, Nagahiro, is engaged to a six year old as an arranged marriage. He points out this doesn’t mean anything, but Hyota nonetheless calls him ‘Mr Lolicon.’

It is hard to see the same idea toyed with in three different ways and not go: Oh this is intentional. This is something that the story is indulging for a reason. And I know, knowing this author, part of what’s going on here is a focus on the author’s interests neutrally. This is a series that Goes Some Places and it is, generally speaking, going to be playing around in the genre and conventions of anime. It’s possible to feel the way that this manga is ridiculous about age and go ‘well it’s clearly just nonsense’ and discard that part of the story, in negotiation with it. I might even try and do that! The boys are, after all, hot designs, I would happily steal these looks for characters of my own, and given the elastic nature of anime aesthetics, any of them could work for a character of almost any age range up until they cross the anime threshold of Actually Old in their seventies.

But I kinda wish I wasn’t getting fanservice saying ‘look at this hot child.’

For a premise as powerrful as ‘detective story Ouran,’ I’m sad that Pretty Boy Detective Club is built out of such bad pieces. The mysteries are shaky, the characters are underdeveloped and the structure is a hot pile. Despite all of this, though, I still find the whole project kinda cool, and just find myself hoping for a better version of it.

Anyway, my current hypothesis that holds this nonsense together is that this club is actually at a college and all the characters are roleplaying being anime perverts.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!