#postmodernism explained

[lisaandthedevil]

Rest in peace Walter Benjamin because you would have had such a field day with Vertigo 1958 because it is literally a film about infinite reproduction. It is art in the age of manufacturing. Of course there is the most obvious reproduction of Kim novak’s character when Scottie tries to turn Judy into Madeleine, reproducing her without knowing that she was already a reproduction of Madeleine in the beginning. But there are other reproductions too. Madeleine “possessed by the sad Carlotta” reproduces herself as a portrait of Carlotta Vardes, posing as her and wearing her hair as her. In Scottie’s dream sequence, we see Carlotta literally take Madeleine’s place standing next to Elster. But this is also fake, of course, so it isn’t Carlotta reproducing herself, it’s Judy reproducing Madeleine, reproducing Carlotta. Literally manufacturing identities. Furthermore, Scottie’s ex-fiancé Midge reproduces herself as Carlotta as a way of admitting her feelings for Scottie. Not only is it a psychological joke but it’s also a literal artwork reproduction. At the end of the film, Scottie reproduces his traumatizing incident that both led to his fear of heights and his obsession with Madeleine’s reproduction. It is then revealed that Judy had been seeing Elster as his mistress while he was still married to Madeleine, but had been discarded by him after she outlived her usefulness, making Judy reproduce Carlotta — skipping the Madeleine step — which is then returned when Judy lunges off the building, just like Carlotta and Madeleine, becoming the final reproduction of the film. The thin is that Scottie can’t love Judy unless she’s a reproduction of Madeleine, and therefore Carlotta, because it’s Carlotta he really loves. The two finally accept one another when it is Judy who is able to reproduce Carlotta and not Madeleine. THUS! Reification. What’s even better is that the last hour of the film could theoretically loop over and over again, because the movie literally reproduces itself.

[demon-of-side-quest-hell]

Alex Eggleston is canon to cyberpunk 2077 now...

I'm yiiking out right now

What the fuck is life

[mariocki]

Thirty Minute Theatre: Not Counting the Savages (BBC, 1972)

"I didn't look round, of course, but when I went round to tidy the other side of the grave, I... became aware of a man standing up against the wire fence. At first I thought that he'd caught his handkerchief or something white on it, and then I realised what it was."

"What?"

"He was exposing himself. Exposing himself to me."

"Well, you've seen one before."

"But I was... I was terribly upset. You can't know how distressed I was! I still am."

"Why? You're an old woman. Why should you be upset? It was play-acting. You're an old woman."

[cabinetofquriosities]

Love on the Brain

Agathario AU: Singer and Roadie

Warnings: Smut

Listen while reading!

Find the complete playlist here.

——————————————————————

Rio Vidal’s career had exploded in the past five years after working towards it her entire life. She was now in her mid thirties and riding the high of being an established phenomenon. She toured too much to hold a consistent relationship, but her tour crew became her people. One such person was a newer roadie named Agatha who had joined on the previous tour.

Rio had found herself noticing the woman more and more. She had something of a flair to her even when just in a band shirt and black jeans with her long hair messily tied up. Though she got along well enough with everyone, her brash attitude and humor caught some of them off guard. It only endeared Rio to her, making her snort-laugh whenever she said anything cutting. The two had become friendly, with the both of them still keeping a bit of distance from one another for reasons they couldn’t quite explain.

When the new tour began, Rio led by asking for Agatha back. Her manager, Jen, seemed surprised at the request.

“Agatha?!” Jen asked, “Like, Agatha, Agatha?”

“I don’t think we know any other Agathas.”

“Sorry, I just- I mean, she can be a little much sometimes. I don’t know if she fits with the rest of the crew…”

“I like her,” Rio said simply, “She’s funny.”

“She threatened to set me on fire with the pyrotechnics.”

“She didn’t go through with it, though.”

“That cannot be where the bar is,” Jen deadpanned.

“Please. I want her on tour with us,” Rio said, reaching over and taking her hand, “I will make sure she doesn’t set you on fire.”

Jen sighed, folding for her employer and close friend.

“Fine. But I’m not sleeping on the same bus as her.”

“Feel free to take the other bus and snuggle up with Alice in the bus’s private bedroom…” Rio said with a smirk.

“Huh… didn’t think about that solution.”

“See? Silver lining.”

The first day of the tour came and Rio treated everyone to a night out on the town to kick everything off. They ended up in a club where they took up a good part of the dance floor. Rio gravitated toward Agatha, the other woman with her hair down for once.

“Hey, what are you drinking?” Rio asked.

“Martini.”

“Dirty?”

“Always.”

“Let me get you another,” Rio said before giving the bartender the order along with a tequila shot for herself.

“Thanks,” Agatha said, taking her drink, “I appreciate you hiring me back. I know I didn’t exactly make the best impression with Jen.”

Rio smiled and made a little wave at the mention of her.

“Don’t worry about Jen. I love her, but she can be a little judgmental with new people.”

“Well, I’ll try to be a little…” Agatha cringed before saying, “Nicer.”

“No you won’t,” Rio said with a fond laugh.

“No, I won’t,” Agatha replied with a smile.

The two drank together for a while before Agatha took her hand, pulling her out to the dance floor as Suavemente played. Rio could barely think with the touch of Agatha’s hand in hers as she danced. She spun Rio and pulled her in, their bodies close. They moved together with Agatha leading. She was impressed at how good Agatha was, handling Rio in a way that left her breathless.

At one point, Agatha and Rio found their eyes locked on the other’s. Both seemed a little terrified at the intensity of the moment. In that instant, both seemed to be realizing the same thing. Rio froze while Agatha’s chest thudded with her heartbeat.

“I should get some sleep,” Agatha blurted out before turning around and abruptly leaving.

Rio almost called for her, almost followed her out, but was stopped when Jen and Alice interrupted.

“What the hell was that?” Jen asked, her head cocked.

“What was what? We were just dancing..”

“That wasn’t ’just’ anything,” Alice said with a smile.

“Don’t encourage this!” Jen said to Alice.

“There’s nothing to encourage!” Rio said with a groan.

“That look you both had says there is,” Alice said.

“Okay, okay, I’m going to bed,” Rio said with a sigh.

“Rio, you don’t have t-“ Jen said, regretting her harshness.

“I’m okay, Jen. I want to be rested for tomorrow. Big day and all that. Make sure everyone’s drinks are paid for and that everyone is on the bus by 2.”

“Alright. Rest up. Drink some water,” Jen said, hugging her.

Rio walked out before Alice said, “I think they’re cute.”

Jen rolled her eyes before pulling Alice to the dance floor.

Agatha had stripped out of her clothing and was left in her sweat shorts and tank top. She finished brushing her teeth when she heard the door close. She looked out and saw Rio come on. Rio took her hair down and walked past. She looked back at Agatha. Agatha tried to avoid her eye, giving Rio the message to leave her alone.

“See you tomorrow. Sleep tight,” she said.

“You too,” Agatha simply said.

Rio walked into her private room in the back and closed the door. Her mind swirled with everything she had been feeling. The look in Agatha’s eyes haunted her as she drifted off to sleep, drawing out emotions she thought she would never feel for someone.

She had never been good at relationships. She was always half in since she felt like she was performing with them the way she did for her fans. With Agatha, it felt different. Something inside of her relaxed when she was around. She groaned just before falling asleep when she realized it.

She was in love with Agatha Harkness.

Fuck.

She had not signed up for love.

Agatha was off the bus by the time Rio woke up. The two stole glances at each other throughout the day, one looking away when the other saw them.

“You didn’t seal the deal last night?” Alice asked Agatha as they carried a speaker to the edge of the stage.

“Seal the what now?” Agatha asked with an arched brow.

“With Rio. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I mean, Jen and I got together on a tour a few years back. The road just makes people closer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Agatha said, looking away.

“Okay, then. Don’t make her wait too long. Rio doesn’t show interest often.”

Agatha didn’t need reminders that Rio was notoriously single, never staying with a woman longer than a night. Agatha had also been fiercely independent, having been married years ago before it all fell apart after their fifth anniversary. No, Rio didn’t see her that way.

“What do you mean ‘nothing happened’?!” Jen asked loudly with an indignant tone.

“Keep your voice down- I thought you’d be relieved,” Rio said.

“I mean, yeah, but I’m more confused. Did she shoot you down?”

“No.. I didn’t really… I just went to bed. And told her to sleep tight,” she said, cringing at her own failure.

“Oh no,” Jen said, her eyes widening.

“What?”

“You’ve got it bad bad. She triggered a useless lesbian response.”

“Useless lesbian?”

“Gay panic. You couldn’t make a move because you like her too much. Shit, of course it would be her…” Jen sighed, “Sometimes I hate it when Alice is right.”

“I don’t… I didn’t… I mean… it would be wrong to pursue anything with her, right?”

“You’re worried about a power imbalance with Agatha Harkness? That woman doesn’t let anyone have the upper hand. She’ll be fine.”

“I thought you didn’t like her…”

“I don’t. She’s an asshole. But I also haven’t seen you like this since high school when you dated Carol. It’s been twenty years. If someone is finally making you feel this way again… well, I will unhappily support you.”

Rio laughed softly before saying, “While I appreciate that, I don’t think she wants anything to do with me. She won’t even look at me.”

“She won’t STOP looking at you. She just doesn’t when you aren’t. Just do yourself a favor and shoot your shot. Okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too long. The tour doesn’t need this level of yearning,” Jen said before walking off.

The show that night went perfectly. The arena was packed and every number went according to plan. Rio soaked in the adrenaline. Performing was like a drug to her. It fueled her. Coming back after a few months felt like recharging her system.

She thanked the roaring audience wearing a bodysuit that was dripping with diamonds, her hair slicked back. She walked offstage, hugging and thanking her crew as she went to greet fans by the tour bus. After an hour of signing autographs and talking with overexcited teenage girls, she walked to her bus.

She walked to her room, closing the door behind her. She was still smiling, still feeling the high of the show running through her veins. A knock sounded at her door. She opened it up and found Agatha there.

“Hey,” Agatha said a bit awkwardly.

“Hi…” Rio said, “What’s up?”

“Jen told me you needed me?”

“Oh,” Rio said, reminding herself to thank Jen later, “Yeah. Uh, come in.”

Agatha stepped inside as Rio closed the door.

“The show was amazing,” Agatha said, a nervous smile showing, somehow making Rio love her even more in that moment.

“Thanks. You guys did great with all of the setups.”

“So.. what was it you needed to see me about?” Agatha asked, unable to stop her eyes from raking down the deep V cut of the bodysuit that plunged down Rio’s front.

“I.. just wanted to make sure you were alright… after last night. You seemed… like I made you uncomfortable.”

“No! No, you didn’t,” Agatha hastily answered, “I promise.”

“Okay, good,” Rio sighed with relief.

“Was… that all?”

“Well… could you actually help me with this?” She asked, pointing at the back of her suit.

Agatha’s face flushed before she said, “Sure, of course.”

It felt like a special type of torture as they stood before a full length mirror, Agatha’s fingers pulling down her zipper. Rio took a deep breath, her heart racing as the fabric loosened and fell apart. She was left in her underwear. Both women looked at each other through their reflection.

Rio suddenly turned, standing face to face with Agatha. Agatha reached out, cupping her face in her hands. Rio leaned into her touch, gazing into Agatha’s blue eyes. Her hand reached up and gripped her wrist as if using it to steady herself.

“Would it just be a night?” Agatha breathed.

Rio slowly shook her head, hoping it wouldn’t freak the other woman out.

“Good,” Agatha replied.

They closed the space between them, their lips colliding in a slow kiss. They took their time at first, refusing to come up for air while their tongues danced around one another. As the electricity grew between them, their movements became more frantic, more charged.

Rio pulled Agatha’s shirt up and off, finding nothing underneath. Agatha was already kicking her jeans off before she lost balance and fell back onto the bed. She was about to get back up when Rio was suddenly crawling over her like a panther.

Rio looked at her, her eyes moving down to her breasts. She dove down, wrapping her lips around her nipple, grinding her tongue against it. Agatha drew in a sharp gasp, her back arching off of the mattress. Rio moved to the other breast, her dark eyes locked onto her.

Agatha reached down and gripped Rio’s ass, digging her nails in. The other woman let out a feral moan that activated something in her. In one swift motion, Agatha rolled them over, topping Rio. Her long hair fell over her neck in a curtain as she looked down at her.

Rio was so used to people assuming she was a top that Agatha’s move completely took her by surprise. It stoked the fire in her chest, making her need this woman more than she thought was possible.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

“Oh,” Agatha said, gripping her chin in her hand, “I intend to.”

Agatha reached down, rubbing Rio over the lace of her panties. Rio sucked in a sharp breath as her entire body came to attention for Agatha. The woman had complete control over her with just a little touch.

“Mm… you soaked through your panties…”

Agatha pulled her underwear down her waist and legs, moving down between her thighs. She kissed up her form and wrapped her arms around her thighs. She ran her tongue along her slit before finding her clit. Soft whimpers left Rio’s lips as Agatha toyed with her.

She slid her tongue inside of her, yanking her closer by her thighs. Rio’s hands clutched the sheets. She stared at her new favorite view of Agatha’s head between her legs. Agatha let go of one leg before using her free hand to tease her. She slid two fingers into Rio, causing her toes to curl.

“Fuck! Yes..” Rio gasped.

Agatha’s tongue circled and swiped over her clit. She sucked while thrusting into her, crooking them against the most sensitive spot of hers. It didn’t take long for Rio’s pleasure to build. She gasped and moaned as her cunt strangled Agatha’s hand. Agatha watched her as she stroked and licked her through her climax. Agatha had a wicked smile on her lips. She moved up her form, nipping and biting everywhere she could reach.

She moved to straddle her chest, moving up onto her knees. She looked down at Rio, saying, “Now, show me what a good girl you are.”

Agatha grabbed the headboard and lowered herself onto Rio’s face. Agatha’s dominance was intoxicating. Rio found herself wanting her approval along with her pleasure. She ran her hands up her thighs as her tongue explored her. Agatha let out a soft moan at the sensation.

Rio’s hands settled on her ass, gripping and slapping it as she wrapped her lips around her clit. Agatha’s moan tore from her mouth at the slap. Rio would have smiled to herself if her mouth wasn’t full. She slapped her a few more times, noticing how wet she became with each strike.

Agatha looked down at her as she rolled her hips. She reached down, running a hand through Rio’s hair. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced. Her moans rose in pitch until they stopped altogether. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as Rio drank her arousal. She caught her breath, looking down at her and saying, “Good girl.”

She moved off of her and laid beside her. Rio surged forwards and kissed Agatha, her lips covered in her. The two women pulled back to look at one another. Rio smiled softly and played with the ends of Agatha’s hair. Agatha gazed into her eyes until her own closed. She snuggled into Rio, the dominant woman suddenly cuddly in her sleep. Rio ran her fingers through her long hair until she drifted off with her.

[librarycards]

So, there’s an actual theoretical use of bodies/theories of body/flesh whose misappropriation is at work here. The use of “body” as opposed to “person” when talking about marginalized people is meant to call attention to the ways that when we take up space, we are working within systems that have pre-scripted roles for us prior to our entrance. The reason it sounds dehumanizing is because the goal is to show how structural violence deprives us of personhood.

To refer to a body rather than a person, in this case, is a way to specify that there are more forces at play in making us who we are/do what we do than the myth of “personal agency” alone. What happens when this is taken up by random people without context, though, is that people who use “bodies” will end up reaffirming denials of agency as natural rather than taking these denials as a site of critique.

remember when online leftists were obsessed with replacing the word “people” with “bodies” to make it sound more social justice-y without realizing how strange and dehumanizing it sounded

[ponett]

if you know what's going on with the Heathcliff comic can you explain it to me. it's like the punchline gets expertly surgically removed from every one. like someone has tinted the windows on their car so darkly you can no longer see inside. like a critical ingredient was omitted from a sandwich before it was pureed

modern heathcliff by peter gallagher is a masterful work of postmodern anti-humor. the less of an actual joke there is the funnier it becomes. following over a long stretch of time lets you see the patterns of things peter will fixate on (labeled helmets, gum, slugs, the bro fish, etc.) and better understand the shape of it, like stepping back from an impressionist painting. it's very rewarding

[weaselandfriends]

Are ARGs the new avant garde?

There's this unfiction ARG on YouTube about a fake video game called Valle Verde. Here's episode 1, there are three episodes:

Watch this and the other two episodes. This is the most technically impressive thing I've seen on YouTube that was made by a single person, and if you watch this video for 54 seconds you'll start to see why.

Once you've watched Valle Verde, you can read this post.

ARGs, or alternate reality games, were a natural outgrowth of creepypasta (as the great Jenny Nicholson once put it, "campfire stories on a global scale"). With creepypasta, people, usually young people, would hop onto the internet and tell a spooky story about a haunted Sonic cartridge with realistic blood or a super evil serial killer who was never caught or Slenderman or something.

Due to the memetic nature of these stories, though, there became an arms race to make them on increasingly elaborate scales. Soon, people were ROMhacking their favorite old games to actually show the spooky haunted realistic blood. A famous example, Ben Drowned, showed modded/corrupted Majora's Mask footage that was generally effective because Majora's Mask is already sort of a creepy game.

Ben Drowned was also notable for being a story that was continually updated. Originally, most creepypasta would be a single story, usually short, posted once. This is an effective medium for horror, which loses effectiveness the more things get explained, but at the same time, when people like something, they want more.

Okay, so how do you make an ongoing horror series that doesn't outright explain everything, and thus retains its horror aspect? The answer, seemingly independently reached by a wide variety of indie horror creators at the same time (Ben Drowned, Marble Hornets, and the godfather Five Nights at Freddy's) was arcane hidden lore.

That's basically what separates an ARG from creepypasta: the "game" in "alternate reality game" is that sprinkled throughout a series of videos are scraps of hints toward a broader narrative, and the viewer is expected to locate those hints, piece them together, and figure out what's actually happening.

The logic is similar to the appeal of a mystery novel, so it's no wonder this took off. Channels like Game Theory posting lore breakdowns of FNAF or other popular series raked in beaucoup views. Indie horror devs would start putting dumbass lore hints in their goofball games to piggyback off FNAF's memetic success. Pathetic things like this happened:

But ARGs are fundamentally different from a mystery novel. In a mystery novel, the terms of the mystery are overtly made known. Someone has been murdered and a world famous detective has arrived to find out who did it/how they did it. By contrast, ARGs are often abstracted to the point that it is difficult to know whether there actually is a mystery. And besides, the mystery in an ARG isn't "who is the killer," it's "what is even the plot?"

Heavily abstracted, often fragmented storylines, with no clear plot, disjointed organization, and only scattered ambiguously meaningful moments that could be arranged in any number of ways to attempt coherence. What does this remind me of?

They reinvented postmodernism!

This realization came home when Skinamarink received a theatrical release in 2022. Skinamarink was an analog horror (another offshoot branch of creepypasta/ARGs) video blown up to cinema length, created by an analog horror YouTuber based on an original 20 minute video they made. Mainstream critics who saw this film, being completely unaware of what analog horror was, extolled the film for its Lynchian, Kubrickian influences. They were unaware its actual greatest influence was Mandela Catalogue. They were unaware that a thrillingly unique, abstract form of storytelling had organically been created by a group of outsider artists on the internet.

Kubrick would be proud.

I find this especially exciting in a mainstream pop cultural milieu that is trending toward, at least in my appraisal, increasing obviousness and simplicity in how it communicates ideas, which is not only boring but also annihilates the capacity for nuance, interpretation, and even meaning itself.

This also comes alongside ARG creators often pushing themselves to new technical extremes, extremes that are absurdly impressive for individuals. Kane Pixels has created amazing found footage videos using Blender-made labyrinths. The Mandela Catalogue guy was doing some crazy shit with puppets(?) last I checked. And, of course, the act of modding old games has evolved into the act of creating whole video games entirely as a vehicle for an ARG. The first example of this I know of is Petscop, and there have been others like Catastrophe Crow (which splices in an extremely accurate pastiche of a retro gaming video essayist, plus period-accurate game magazine articles), but Valle Verde takes it to a new level.

Since you've all seen Valle Verde by now, I won't waste time explaining the seriously impressive stuff it pulls off.

Instead, I'll let the other shoe drop.

I have a fundamental problem with all these ARGs, one that pains me all the more because I am so thrilled by so many aspects of them. The problem is that once you dig into them, once you piece together the underlying narrative from all the tiny clues, interpret the ambiguities, and see the broader picture -

The picture sort of sucks.

Ben Drowned, FNAF, Petscop, Catastrophe Crow boil down to the same residual dew: Children died. (Either murdered or just tragically.) Their spirits haunt the game cartridge/animatronics. All the scant hints point to the cause. (Ben Drowned spoils it in the title.) It's not only sort of banal but also the story that you could probably guess at without reading into the deep lore, just from the story's general vibe.

It's a fundamentally boring answer to a fascinating puzzle, and worse, it reveals that there was no true value in the puzzle being presented as it was. The abstraction and postmodern technique of the narrative contribute nothing to its overall meaning. They exist with the sole aim to obfuscate, because horror only works when unexplained. Rather than leave the horror unexplained, though, the way Kubrick would in The Shining (which deliberately strips out overt explanations that exist in the book it adapts), or Lynch would in anything, these works are attempting to have their cake and eat it: there's stupid lore that explains everything, but it's just a little hard to find. In that sense, rather than being a rejection of the current cultural milieu toward works that make simple sense, this trend seems more like an attempt to reinject that milieu into one of the few genres of storytelling that had effectively rejected it. (It reads similarly to all the Babadook-inspired indie horror films of the past decade where the monster is some transparent allegory for grief or trauma or something.)

So what's the story of Valle Verde?

I won't go into a Game Theory breakdown of every symbol and detail. As far as I can tell, this is what's going on:

Valle Verde, the fiction within the fiction, is a Japanese video game developed with experimental technology called THBrain that gives it a sophisticated and advanced artificial intelligence capable of making on-the-fly alterations to the game's script. Valle Verde, the series of videos, depicts an investigation into certain malfunctioning elements of the game prior to its release. The player character, self-identified as TEST05, is actually played by two "agents" (of what agency is unclear) named Pablo and Robert testing the game and chronicling anomalous behavior.

The series of glitches and other bizarre things they record seems to depict a theological battle between Valle Verde's freemasonic villagers, led by Foxxo (remember that the next elections), and the Catholic Church, led by Pietro (possibly an avatar for St. Peter, the first pope and guardian of the gates of heaven).

Joseph of Cupertino is the patron saint of aviation. It's a "time flies" pun.

It's unclear how much autonomy either of these factions have, even knowing that there is apparently a super-sophisticated AI capable of injecting novel information. Pietro at times breaks the fourth wall and addresses Pablo directly by name; the villagers don't break the fourth wall, but do all sorts of stuff that is described by the tapes as anomalous. The AI seems like the obvious culprit, but in Valle Verde 2, Pablo actually meets the AI, who claims to have sequestered themselves from the rest of the game because they didn't want to partake in the villagers' rituals, and who has even disabled all their language libraries except Spanish to avoid comprehending the screams of the children trapped inside the game.

Oh yeah. Children are dying.

The THBrain seems to not only enable incredible AI, but is a way to upload humans into the video game (maybe this is unrelated to THBrain? I'm fuzzy on that point). Several children have already been uploaded and are presumed dead; currently, an Argentinian child named Matias is trapped in the game. Matias is the only other character besides Pietro capable of breaking the fourth wall, due to being a real person; he is aware of Pablo as an "agent" and suggests at some sort of conspiracy outside the game, which has not been explicated in much detail in the available videos.

The reason the children are dying is eventually revealed: the freemasonic villagers are sacrificing them to their false god, Moloch.

I'm not kidding about the freemasonry. Note the Argentinian flag.

There are other plot elements that are a bit murkier; Valle Verde seems to be a nexus of several unrelated video games, which can be accessed through an in-game library, and it is within this nexus that Moloch lives, and perhaps where the underlying purpose behind the villagers' actions lurk. There is also a recurring motif of a coming Christian apocalypse, likened to Noah's flood. After the freemasonic sacrifice, a doomsday clock ticks closer to midnight. Are the masons unwittingly provoking God's wrath? The series is framed as footage from 1997 that was unearthed in the modern day, so was this apocalypse averted, or did the apocalypse simply exist within the game, with no bearing on reality? The series remains ongoing; future installments may clarify.

But the underlying issue remains that, for me at least, the basic conflict in its simplicity and lack of ambiguity seems inadequately matched to the unique, impressive, and open-ended presentation. It retroactively makes me wonder what the point is of telling the story the way Valle Verde is told, if its story is in essence the Church versus Satan-worshippers, with clear moral and ideological lines drawn. Doesn't a more conventional narrative make sense for this sort of story?

There's a scene early on when the player character traverses a series of rooms corresponding to the Seven Deadly Sins. The sin of greed is depicted, not simply with stacks of gold, but with works of modern art:

As the player proceeds through the room, they discover a dumpster where Renaissance artwork by Titian and Michelangelo is trashed:

The message here is almost fatuous. It's also deeply ironic. Valle Verde is a work that has far more in common, in terms of its formalistic technique, with Picasso than Titian. Is it a lack of self-awareness that puts this here? Or perhaps something else?

The novel Infinite Jest ends abruptly, with none of its plot points resolved. In this way it's similar to the titan of American postmodern literature, Gravity's Rainbow, which peters out without explaining the conspiracy that has driven its narrative. Infinite Jest plays a trick, though, as devious as it is facile. The final 200 pages of the book have been cut off and moved to the front. The story's beginning is a flash forward that, in its lack of context and confusing abstractions, is difficult to make sense of on first read. Upon rereading after finishing the book, though, it clearly contains the answers to all the unresolved plot threads.

If postmodernism could be described as an artistic period of uncertainty and obscured truth that was a response to the similarly uncertain Cold War era, where the inner machinations of governments may at any time cause the annihilation of the entire world, then what Infinite Jest did, published just a few years after the Cold War's end, could be seen as a reclamation of truth.

Truth itself is a concept deeply interwoven with Christianity. In Valle Verde, Pietro even calls it out with a green highlight to indicate its importance:

La Verdad sounds suspiciously similar to Valle Verde. Coincidence?

The context of this quote comes after the villagers destroy the church; Pietro reassures the player that La Verdad remains unchanging, and that this tribulation shall pass.

Might Valle Verde itself then be an Infinite Jest style reclamation, using the formalistic techniques of postmodernism that are so useful for obscuring truth to obscure what is, at its core, a simple and morally black-and-white tale of Christianity versus wicked idolatry?

There is a real-world allegorical undercurrent to Valle Verde that makes this reading even more appealing. Valle Verde's creator, Alluvium, is Argentinian, and the game is steeped in references to Argentinian history and politics.

That's a map of the Falkland Islands and a picture of former Argentine dictator Juan Peron.

At one point, when the villagers destroy the church (with the unwitting? help of the player character, who seems to have no moral interest in anything happening, and who only does whatever anyone asks him, whether it's Pietro or Foxxo), a highly overt reference is made to the death of Pope John Paul I, who reigned for only 33 days in the late 1970s before he died, officially, of a heart attack. The abruptness of his death, and the failure of the corrupt, Mafia- and freemason-connected Vatican Bank in the years that followed, have led to conspiracy theories that John Paul was actually murdered by freemasons within the Vatican so that they may continue to corrupt the Catholic Church.

Specifically, the conspiracy posits the assassination was done by the freemasonic branch P2, or Propaganda Due, an illegal fascistic secret society that contained many high-ranking members of Italian politics (including Silvio Berlusconi), whose goal was to act as a shadow government that could prevent the rise of communism within Italy. (P2 definitely existed; how much it actually influenced Italian politics is a matter of debate.)

Though primarily an Italian organization, P2 had several influential members from other countries, notably Argentina, where several politicians and military leaders at the highest levels were involved. As a nation, Argentina is something of a tragedy; at one point considered a rising economic powerhouse, its excellent geographic and demographic advantages were squandered by a long succession of corrupt leaders, including those involved in P2. It makes sense, then, why an Argentinian creator like Alluvium might be so interested in critiquing the evils of freemasonic corruption.

Valle Verde satirizes Argentina's leadership via Foxxo, not only through his freemasonic devil rituals, but also in more down-to-earth ways. In his introduction, Foxxo provides the player character 100 coins, telling him to "remember that the next elections" (Foxxo's catchphrase, despite him clearly stating he has been given absolute authority over the area by The Smiling One); moments later, when the player turns to leave, Foxxo mugs him from behind and puts him 99,999 coins in debt.

Through the use of masonic slogans like liberté, égalité, fraternité (which is written over what appears to be a portal to Hell) and masonic symbols such as the Statue of Liberty and Washington Monument, there's an undercurrent that expands this freemasonic secular/Satanic conspiracy beyond Argentinian politics and into the post-Enlightenment secular governments that have come to rule the so-called free world. "Progress is God," the freemasons state during their child sacrifice ritual. (Foxxo is joined in this scene by the village's museum curator, representing knowledge, and its scientist, representing progress.)

It's this kind of framing that makes me wonder about the previous scene depicting Picasso paintings as emblematic of the sin of Greed, compared to Renaissance paintings in the dumpster; is there a general theme here raging against modernity in all its forms, compared to a fundamentally good and absolute Christian religious truth? If so, it makes sense why Valle Verde is presented as it is, so abstractly; it shows a world rendered incomprehensible by modernity, but one that can be sifted and parsed to find incontrovertible religious salvation still shining underneath.

It is a rejection of "progress," using the formal techniques of "progress." In a milieu where the promises of the Enlightenment seem to have hit a dead end, where the freedom secularism once promised has given rise to corruption and abuses akin to those the Catholic Church of the Renaissance once inflicted, perhaps the sense of going back appeals.

The English literary world post-Infinite Jest itself also seems to have returned to the past; the works published today are realistic in style and scope, eschewing most formal techniques pioneered across the preceding century. Though I doubt that was David Foster Wallace's goal, it's what he created. Valle Verde, which is so explicit in its fundamental belief in Christianity, is probably far more deliberate in its rejection of the world as it currently exists.

Though there have always been voices calling for a return to the past, perhaps this is a mindset particularly enticing in the information age, when meaning seems so fragmented as to be ungraspable. Though Valle Verde is conscious of what it is doing formally in a way that, say, Ben Drowned is not, the inner simplicity of these ARG narratives obfuscated by abstraction strikes me as a collective yearning for clearly explicated, graspable truths in a world where such a thing seems increasingly impossible. Almost a fantasy: If only this incomprehensible eldritch horror could be explained by a 10-minute Game Theory video!

(The eldritch itself is a horror rooted in incomprehensibility. Making it explicable banishes it entirely, the way the protagonist of Valle Verde banishes a demon by holding aloft a crucifix. La Verdad triumphs. Couldn't our lives be so simple?)

Not every ARG is like this. Kane Pixels, another creator I would highlight for their exceptional technical talent and avant garde storytelling, has created far more nuanced and ambiguous narratives with works like The Oldest View, which deals with themes of nostalgia and memory without being resolvable into a simple pat sentence synopsis. Overall, I consider this entire collection of web original horror creators to be blessed with both the talent and mindset to create truly innovative works of fiction, even if many of them are outsider artists fumbling around just trying to scare someone; as outsiders, these confused anti-confusions of theme and meaning might be par for the course.

Valle Verde is an impressive work of art, even if it is an avant garde work that paradoxically rejects itself. Perhaps in that paradox more could be said than had it remained fully self-consistent. Either way, I eagerly await what comes next.

[dewana]

"Die for you"

Syzoth x fem! Reader

Synopis: You’re on a mission with Syzoth, empress Mileena and Lord Liu Kang sent you both to investigate the sudden criminal activities happening on the outskirts of Sun Do.

3k words

Song: “Die for you”- Scott Bradlee’s postmodern jukebox

Warning: s m u t, minors dni

“Syzoth, what do you think is the cause of these riots?”

You were in a desert like place, it was the nighttime so the sun wasn’t as cruel. Little grains of sand crunched beneath your foot and you winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Few plants were in your line of vision only few cacti, which alerted you without plants your powers were useless. Of course you were skilled in hand to hand combat but it was better to be at full power when battling an unknown enemy.

“I do not know, my lady.” The reptile shifter answered not looking your way. You had a feeling he wasn’t fond of you, often avoiding your gaze or standing in the opposite side of the room. You were confused as to why he was behaving that way, have you upset him any way?

“There is no need to address me so formally, Syzoth.” You mumbled sheepishly, his gaze rested upon your face for a moment.

“You are Lord Liu Kangs paramour therefore your title is as such.” Your eyes widened at that statement.

Liu Kangs paramour? You wanted to laugh at that, he was your mentor nothing more. A quiet chuckle escaped your lips, you gently placed your palm on Syzoth’s shoulder.

“We are not lovers, he is sort of my boss… my mentor.” You explained, the tattooed man stopped dead in his tracks. He quickly turned around, his fist clenched at his sides. He had a rather serious expression, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

“You are not?” He asked again, and you shook your head affirmatively. He nodded quickly and resumed walking.

The rest of the walk was silent, the only noise was your feet shuffling on the ground. You did however catch a lot of subtle side looks from the reptile. Instead of walking ahead he walked along, helping you up a rock. Something changed within him after the conversation you two shared, you didn’t mind however that still hasn’t explained his past behavior.

“Syzoth have I done something to upset you?” You finally asked, the tension becoming unbearable, you fiddled with your fingers. He looked at you suprised.

“No not at all. Why do you think that?” He asked, you could feel roots growing along your ankles. Stress negatively affected your powers, they listened to your heart not your mind.

“Oh it’s just that, since we met you have been kind of avoidant of me? And I was wondering if I have upset you in some way? If i have I’m really sorry.” You mumbled, the roots tightening around your legs. Syzoth’s face held a warm expression, he scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat.

“You have done nothing wrong, it’s my fault actually. I thought that you and Lord Liu Kang were together and since he’s a god i did not want to make you uncomfortable or annoy you with my presence. I know that to many I am a freak and i did not want to scare you and disrespect Lord Liu Kang by being in your presence. A beautiful woman like you should not be forced to be in my presence, an ugly shifter.” He explained, eyes locked with the ground. You could not help the gentle laugh that escaped you, Syzoth raised his head at that.

“Oh, Syzoth” You mumbled and placed your palms on his cold ones. “You are very handsome, inside and out. You must not think so lowly of yourself, and I do not understand why you thought such things. I enjoy your presence.” You smiled and picked a small cacti that was dying on the sandy ground. You raised your hand above the small cacti and green light emerged from your palm, with your power the cacti grew stronger and greener, colorful flowers sprouted from the plant. “Even if you think of yourself lowly there are people like me that see the beauty in you, like this cacti. Someone noticed your potential and you grew into an honorable and kind man.” You handed him the healthy plant. He gently took the plant from your hands smiling slightly.

As you continued your journey you couldn’t help but ponder as to why he thought that he should erase himself from your presence if you were “with” Liu Kang. There was no point in overthinking the matter when you could just ask him.

“If you don’t mind answering I have a question.” Syzoth nodded “Why would me being with someone be so important that you avoid me?” You could see the man tense when the words left your lips.

“I um, I was infatuated with you the moment my eyes fell upon yours, but since I thought you were with someone the best thing for me to do was purge myself of those feelings and it was easiest avoiding you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to contain myself, your beauty, your smile, how kind you are to everyone, how nice and warm you are.” He stopped immediately after muttering those words, you could see a little bit of a green hue on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but sprouting the same red hue on yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, he shyly gazed into yours.

“You liked me?” You asked stepping a bit closer to the man.

“Still do, my technique did nothing.” He admitted slightly embarrassed “I thought day and night about you, nothing really helped.”

"If now you know that I'm single will you act on your feeling?" You asked curiously.

"Would you like me to?" He responded his tone equally curious, you nodded you head slightly. Syzoth stepped even closer, your chests almost touching, he lowered his head so your foreheads were touching. You placed your hand on his cheek, he placed his much larger cold hand over yours, wanting to feel him even closer you pressed your lips against his. Syzoth melted in your hold, quickly becoming putty, his lips searched yours feverishly but before he could deepen the kiss you pulled away.

"After the mission is complete, If you want I can share my warmth with you." The reptile shifter nodded excitedly, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"Does that mean you're mine?" He asked hopefully.

"If you want me to be." Syzoth nodded eagerly.

You finally arrived at the rebel camps, you observed it from above a mountain, you laid on your stomach a knife in your hands, Syzoth turned invisible but was still close to you.

"100 to 150 tents filled with max 14 people over two thousand rebels." You spoke quietly to the earpiece that was connected to the current Umgadi on duty which was Tanya.

"Understood, do no engage in combat as of now, there is backup heading your way. Syzoth sneak into the camp and find out as much as you can about their plans." Tanya spoke through the intercom, you nodded at her orders.

Syzoths invisible hand tapped your shoulder signalising he was heading into the camp, you nodded and kept observing the camp. The leader, someone wearing the army's uniform that was enforced under Shao.

"Their leader is someone from Shao's army." You spoke to the intercom. "I do not know who he is but he's wearing an army uniform."

"That should not be possible, we interrogated and disposed of any survivors of Shao's unit." Tanya's voiced echoed in your ear

"Maybe he escaped and started to follow in the generals footsteps." You entertained that idea but it seemed foolish, Shao along with Reiko were defeated and killed for the crimes against Outworld.

"The reinforcements are in close proximity to your location, attack the camp but do not kill anyone, capture the so called leader and bring him to Sun Do before Empress Mileena."

You moved back from your current position to greet the aiding troops. Li Mei as their leader, you bowed with respect.

"First Constable" You said and hugged the woman, she returned the gesture and smiled warmly.

"Earth mage." She responded "Where is Syzoth?" She asked

"Spying I shall tell him to regroup." You turned from the woman and switched channels to Syzoths earpiece. "Syzoth? Regroup the aid is here and we attack once you return." The reptile shifter suddenly appeared next to you his invisibility fading.

With everyone ready you prepared a silent ambush to take the rebels by surprise. Injuring as little people as possible, Syzoth was behind you his invisibility once more in full effect.

You noticed three entrances that lead to the mountain protected camp, once all the troops entered you dug your heel into the rocky ground and raised your palms, the entrances were closed by walls of rock, alerting the rebels but before they could prepare the Sun Do police were already in the works.

You ran towards where you last saw the leader, a well built man with a helmet covering his head. He was walking towards the largest tent in the camp surely it belonged to him. You sealed of the exits with cacti roots and grabbed the man in a chokehold. He was a skilled fighter but you were even better, defeating him without breaking a sweat Syzoth reappeared at your side, tying up the man.

In this moment you felt a bit of relief flow through you, Syzoth and you were unharmed and you caught the vigilante. But that feeling was trampled when a second person emerged from the shadows, dagger in hand aiming for your back. In second Syzoth shielded you with his own body, when you regained your senses the man was trying to escape to notice that the exits were sealed off.

"Big mistake buddy" You said angrily, running towards him and kicking him in the side of his head, he fell on the ground instantly. Your roots wrapped around his limbs. "Tanya, target secured we're moving out." You notified the Umgadi and quickly moved to Syzoth who was clutching his side, green blood dripping from his fingers. He sat on the ground and you quickly kneeled next to him. "Show me." He reluctantly moved his palm revealing a nasty gash. You sucked in a breath and ripped a part of your sash to tie it around his abdomen. "Take off your shirt." You ordered

"I thought we're doing that after the mission?" He teased and sucked in a sharp breath as you tied the material around the wound.

"Unfortunately you're not a plant so I can't heal you but I'm sure the police have a medic with them. You'll be fine." You mused helping him up. "Li Mei everything taken care of?" You asked through the intercom.

"Affirmative, a few minor injuries but we're fine."

"I'm gonna need aid, Syzoth got stabbed but the target is secured."

Soon enough three of Sun Do's police arrived at the scene taking the target into custody, you helped Syzoth out of the tent and out of the camp.

Empress Mileena congratulated you both on a mission well done, granting you favour in her court. Syzoth was rushed to this room along with a doctor who would heal him, you went to visit him after sharing your report with Tanya and Liu Kang.

"Syzoth?" You asked after knocking on his door. You noticed the injured man laying beneath a heavy duvet only his eyes visible. "Cold?" You teased

The reptile avoided your gaze, shifting between the window and the door where you were standing. You noticed the uncared for plants in the corners of his room, with your magic you restored their healthy and vibrant forms. You sat on the corner of his bed, he refused to look at you, which saddened you.

"Syzoth what's wrong?" You asked placing you palm on his chest, he took a deep breath and tried to sit up to the best of his abilities. You helped him of course, placing a few pillows behind him for comfort.

"I do not want you to see me in this state." He whispered, his voice hoarse and sad.

"Why on earth shouldn't I see you in this state? You took a blow for me, I'm thankful." You scoffed, and awaited further explanation.

"I do not want you to see me weak, it is unbecoming of a potential mate." He quickly explained, the tips of his ears turning green.

You laughed at that, and climbed over Syzoth, he followed your every movement with curious eyes.

"You sacrificed your health for me, you protected me that is exactly what a mate does." You used his definition of a partner to help him understand better. "You're very hard on yourself, you didn't even have to protect me, I could take the blow." Syzoth very quickly sat on the bed with you in his lap, you combed through his short hair.

"I would die for you" He spoke seriously, his gaze stern and searching your approval.

"Don't die for me, live for me." You answered pressing your forehead against his. The reptile shifter basked in your warmth, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face hidden in your neck. You gently petted his hair then his back. You noticed the subtle goosebumps appearing on his skin. You felt his lips on your neck.

"Syzoth" You said breathlessly "You're injured, we shouldn't" You spoke not fully convincing yourself.

"You said you'd share your warmth with me once the mission is over." He argued pressing feather kisses to your jaw.

"I didn't take into account you could get hurt." You whispered against his lips. But before you could say anything more, he connected your lips silencing you. His hands roamed from your waist to your hips, you in turn wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer.

His tongue moved against yours, teeth clashing and subtle moans stained the air. You gripped his short hair and pulled his head away from you to catch your breath. In that moment Syzoth stared at you, eyes full of passion and lust. You could feel his groin stiffen under you, and you took in a sharp breath. Your hands found themselves on his broad chest, leaning in for another hungry kiss.

"Please beloved" He moaned in your ear, slightly grinding his hips against yours. You finally gave into the temptation, stripping your top and bottoms leaving you half naked in your lingerine. Syzoth was topples, his abdomen covered in white bandages, loose undergarments covered his manhood that was becoming more noticeable.

You smiled into the kiss but pulled away soon enough he whined at the loss of contact and warmth you provided his cold body. Pressing your palm to his chest, pushing him slightly so he would lay on the bed. You palmed him through his undergarments, applying just enough pressure to have Syzoth moaning breathlessly.

"Take them off." He eagerly followed your order, leaving him completely bare before you. His dick pink and leaking precum at the tip, twitching occasionally. You could barely wrap your hand around him, nonetheless you stroked his dick in a slow but firm motion. Syzoth reached towards you, pleasure already making him hazy. You took off your panties and tossed them behind the huge bed.

"Please wanna feel you, please." The reptile shifter begged glancing at you through half lidded eyes, his chest heaving with laboured breaths as pleasure coursed through his body. You obeyed his wishes and once again straddled him, his dick snugly fitted between your tighs and lips. Syzoth moaned at the warmth from your body so close to his dick. He sat up swiftly grabbing your ass, his head laid between your breasts and you couldn't help but giggle. You entangled you fingers into his hair, but quickly abandoned the soft gesture to take off your bra. Syzoth stared at your pebbled nipples, and quickly wrapped his lips around the left one, you moaned quietly slightly moving your hips against his erection. Syzoth shuddered at that, kissing your right breast.

You propped yourself up on your knees and grabbed his dick and aligned it with your entrance. Lowering yourself slowly on his girth, you bit back a groan of discomfort and pain that you felt at the new contact.

Syzoth moved his fingers to your clit and rubbed comforting circles on it, shocks of pleasure coursing through you and him. As the discomfort subsided you lowered yourself even more, Syzoth tried not to buck his hips up into you. When he finally bottomed out you started moving, riding him gave you great pleasure no doubt. He fit snugly in your velvety walls, rubbing all the right spots.

The shifter gazed at you lovingly, eyes scrunched up in pleasure, airy moans escaping your lips, breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips. He massaged them with his large cold hands, yours found themselves on his chest once more.

"Please baby, let me make you feel good." Syzoth spoke breathlessly stilling your movements, you cracked an eye open and nodded. He pulled out and flipped you on your back, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he re-entered you quickly, already missing your warmth.

"Can I move?" He asked once he bottomed out inside you.

"Yes please." You answered and leaned in to press your lips together, Syzoth began to roll his hips into your heat.

"Please Syzoth faster." You whispered, he obeyed and thrusted deeper and harder, placing one hand on the headboard, the other placed right behind your head.

You could feel the familiar knot forming in your abdomen, Syzoth noticing how you squeezed him, pressed circles into your clit, doubling the pleasure and quicken your upcoming orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum, Syzoth yes like that." You moaned your nails digging into his back, Syzoth himself could feel the knot in his abdomen almost snap but he wanted to make you feel good first.

"I'm almost there baby." He groaned, thrusting into you quicker his pace turning a bit sloppy and erratic indicating his near climax.

The change felt so good your eyes rolled back to your skull, body spasming and pussy fluttering around his dick. That was just what he needed to burst the knot in his abdomen.

"I'm cummin'" he groaned "Baby please let me" His chest heaved words not making sense. "Inside s'warm please" He begged and you nodded giving into the pleasure.

You could feel him spurting thick white ropes into your heat, he thrusted a few times to ride out his orgasm. He panted above you, brows scrunched and lips pressed together. A thin sheet of sweat covered you both, a distinctive aroma of sex filled his quarters.

"Can we stay like this?" He asked moving to lay beside you, his dick softening inside you. You nodded throwing your leg over his hip nestling him even deeper inside. Syzoth's head pressed onto your breasts you smiled and kissed the top of his hair. "I want to stay like this forever. You're so warm and wet and smell so good." He panted out the words, and you could feel something growing hard inside you once more.

[curtwilde]

Henry vs Julian

I have been thinking about this a lot. While Henry clearly admires and models his scholar self on Julian, their essential difference is in how they perceive the Ancient Greeks.

Julian's interest in the Ancient Greeks is true interest, he admires their high and exalted values. For him, the Greeks were the highest point of human civilization, and the closer he comes to his own time the more his disdain increases - the Roman Catholic Church he holds in contempt but it's still a 'worthy enemy' not as bad as the Presbyterian Church. It isn't mentioned but he must hold modernism and it's philosophy with disdain - modernist moral vacousness being a direct contradiction of the idealist values loyalty, honor, chastity etc. that were so exalted by the Greeks. Which is why he is always cherry picks, sees only what he wants to see, and invents what he can't - both for himself (his ambiguous involvement with the Isrami government) or for his students (encouraging Richard to lie about his life in California). Since he can't time travel back to Greece himself, he must try to live that life as much as he can and believe himself a character in a Greek play. But it comes, not from a place of wanting to escape his current reality, but true admiration of the ancient Greek way of seeing and doing things.

Henry is a true modernist. The monologue about feeling dead is central to his understanding his character:

Maybe it stems from his near death experience but he sees the world as inherently meaningless, God is dead and heaven and hell have been revealed to be man-made constructs, there is no punishment for evil and since there is no moral line. I think he subconsciously realised all of this before coming to Hampden, but to truly accept it would have been soul-crushing. So he tries to escape it by immersing himself in the Greeks, I imagine the absolutist values, vague representational ideas pertaining to each god might have interested him but really, it could have been anything else, the Medieval Age or the Victorians, anything. He just needed something to be obsessed with, to give meaning to his existence which he subconsciously knew to be meaningless. So is his adoration of Julian, he admired and wanted Julian's ability to almost half-live in another time when, in his view, things mattered more (we have divinity in our midst). It also explains the Bacchanal which is otherwise so out of character for him. The appeal was to escape the soul crushing knowledge of meaninglessness - even if for a while. To worship and call on Dinosiyus with the blind belief of the Ancient Greeks, a kind of belief that simply cannot exist anymore in the postmodern, post-Neitzche world. His harebrained plans also came from the same impulse, including the poison plan, and the one way ticket to Argentina.

I suspect that what subconsciously drove him to murder bunny, aside from the obvious fear of getting caught - is the same thing that drove Mersault to murder the Arab - it's the old existentialist question, if good and bad are relative and there is no punishment for evil, how far can one go? Bunny's murder was Henry's existentialist experiment with himself. And, I think in a way it confirmed for him what he already knew, they escaped unscathed and he didn't feel any of the fear or remorse he expected to feel. While it did give him the momentary sense of power, the feeling that he could now do whatever he wanted if he can be clever enough to not get caught, since he won't be punished for it otherwise. While it gave him enough courage to go get the girl he always wanted - it did confirm for him the inherent meaninglessness of the world. Also, conversely, Camilla could have been another experiment - something must matter, was it love? Camilla was the only girl he knew and he was fond of her - he may not even have thought of her romantically before considering he never cared to act on it in all the time he had known her. But either way, Julian's abandonment broke him.

Coming back to Julian, Julian's abandonment omakes perfect sense to me - he was disgusted by the modernist moral vacousness in his students. He himself was a moral man, but his morals operated on his own standards. He based it on the Greek sense of Honour, not the more modern sense of Justice. His basic instinct was the preservation of his own purity - he couldn't possibly keep on as their teacher. But also, to turn them in would be against his sense of honour - he must have very little respect for the police and law enforcement as institutions being the kind of person he is. Not to mention it would mean his having to be in frequent contact with the police and court. From his point of view atleast, leaving is the only thing he could have done, really.

For Henry however, he sees that his obsession with the Greeks as well as his admiration for Julian as the sham that it really was, is disillusioned with the world, shattered. Except for his fondness for Camilla he didn't really have anyone he loved, he saw his friends as pawns, wasn't close to his family, didn't have any goals in life with everything in his reach with his father's money - the only person he had really loved was Julian, and there he was betrayed. His obsession with the ancient Greeks was also thus tainted with Julian's betrayal - since it wasn't true interest at all, only a disguised attempt at escapism - it wavered and fell apart, and he didn't have a reason to live anymore.

.

Side note : Richard falls between the two. Like Julian, he had a real interest in the ancient Greeks, but he didn't put them on a pedestal like Julian did. He realised that like his own time, and like all other times in history the Greek civilization too had its own good and bad aspects, and he wanted to learn about it for its own sake. But he doesn't make it his life, or use it to escape his own reality - outside of his classes he was very much rooted in his own time.

[danvolodar]

A bit on postmodernism

I understand why Ice-Pick Lodge added the postmodernist performative layers to Pathologic, if only from the purely gamist perspective - for starters, to explain the save/load mechanics and multiple deaths.

I enjoy some of the meta plot elements such as the Haruspex meeting the next actor assigned for his role, or Murky's Haruspex doll, or Aglaya's doomed rebellion, or the pantomimes in the theater.

(The text in the image reads: non-pantomimity).

Yet still I feel that layer devalues the player characters' (and thus, the player's) achievements a lot. If a healer saves real lives in a real city, that's meaningful. If a healer plays a role in a community theater play, better or worse, a lot of that meaning disappears, much less if said play and said community theater are themselves a game played by children.

That is particularly apparent when thinking about the events after the games - for instance, writing post-ending fanfics. Essentially, either the setting is treated as "real", and then the postmodernist elements have to be danced around somehow, or the whole endeavour becomes meaningless from the start - or, at least, devolves entirely into further purely postmodernist play.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Jimin - Muse (2024)

3/5 ☆

I thought it'd get me several days to come back here with some thoughts on Muse, but it proved it's not necessary.

Who as title track makes complete sense. We're still into 90s nostalgia, but it's a recipe that works. Not just in kpop, but pop in general. Looking at the charts, it paints a pretty clear picture for the last couple of years. Add the zoomer idea of a what a Y2K aesthetic is like and we get the recipe for today's music and concept. Repeat, reuse, recycle. How fitting for postmodernism.

Who is a really catchy tune, with lyrics easy to remember and sing out loud. A tad more commercial-sounding than Like Crazy, but that's Muse overall anyway. The truth is, I have the song on loop (streamers can't come for me, lol). I think Jimin's style of singing and the melody itself are a good fit. Lyric wise, it's sort of basic, but this is pop music made for mass consumption. I don't mind it. It's also radio friendly and definitely has the potential for summer hit, but I'm 99% sure it won't turn into one. BH won't move a finger to send it to radio and it's another song that will fall victim to fandom mass streaming to chart high for one week. I've seen this all before.

It's also a shame to have this released when an artist is away, without being able to properly promote it. In my non-expert opinion, it could have been released as a single a few months later after Face and scratch the rest of Muse or keep it in the drafts.

As to the other songs, perhaps Rebirth (Intro) is the only other song on the album that has something to it, it stands out a bit more and it also bridges the two albums, despite the connection being sort of flimsy.

Having Sofia Carson on Slow Dance had brought nothing to the song. It could have been a full Jimin track all the way. Her style of singing does not stand out and I find it a failed pair because there's no contrast or voices complementing each other. Jimin can sing just like her. If a collab is really wanted/needed/necessary, then I'd wish for a pairing that also makes sense vocal-wise.

Be Mine is ok, but it sounds too much like that one TXT song and I simply can't get over past it. It's afro beat and latino influence which has been all the rage in the past few years, which Hybe has been pushing a lot. It explains the song.

SGMB and Closer Than This were previously released and I'm not covering them again.

I think it's difficult for me to not make comparisons to Face, considering both albums were produced around the same period, without much time left in between them. One is simply more cohesive and has a depth that showcases a first solo attempt, while the other one is clearly going a more commercial route with less of a personal signature.

Despite Muse being promoted as another conceptual album, I find that umbrella to be a bit forced given that the theme of finding love is really a generic one. Perhaps way too generic with not much individuality. Does it show Jimin's vocal range? Yes. Does it show him trying various genres? Yes. In this case, perhaps Muse is a bit similar to Golden in some aspects, with the difference that Jimin gets producing and writing credits in 5/6 songs. So his involvement is greater, but the scope of the album is in the same category as Golden, which is another production that had this LOVE as an overarching theme. But without much more to it that would make it stand out lyrically. The focus on both is genre diversity and vocal capability.

In short: I like Who (I also like Ace of Base songs and all those silly 90s pop songs, so my music taste is most likely considered bad, but I don't care). I think Muse overall is an amalgam of whatever is trendy at the moment, without being able to truly stand out and say more about Jimin, apart from his capabilities as idol/performer. Perhaps that was the point too.

P.S. My inbox has been closed for anonymous asks since I reblogged a few days ago my post about using lyrics as clues for personal life. It seems that it invited homophobia and I won't have that here.

I'm keeping it that way for now because I'm sure my personal "review" on Muse will either be seen as an invitation for people to either bash me for not thinking it's the album of the year or to be seen as an opportunity for others to talk shit about Jimin, Who and the album overall. I found that usually there is no middle ground with kpop stans/army/Jimin stans, etc.

[justanamesstuff]

Unrequited love at the bookshop - Matty Healy

Part 4 of Unrequited love...

A/N: took a break from studying to edit it. Happy reading :)♥

Warnings: none, just two idiots in love.

Word count: 1.9k

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Y/n took a book from the shelf after admiring a few covers that caught her attention. She was well-aware of Matty’s body standing close to her. The local bookshop she liked to visit from time to time was cosy, Y/n adored wasting her hours around those bookshelves. 

“No.” Matty immediately protested when Y/n turned a couple of pages. 

Y/n kept her sight on the book, asking innocently, “What?” 

She sensed him walking closer. Peeking over her shoulder to cheek what the book was about. 

“I can see it in your eyes.” Matty accused her. His breath made a loose strand of her hair dance in the air. Y/n sighted loudly.

Matty was the first one to encourage her love for books, at the same time he kept her on check about buying ones she would probably never read. 

“What do you mean?” Y/n tried really hard to keep her voice as neutral as possible, she didn’t want to let him know he was in fact right. 

Matty was too clever for her liking. “You have enough books to read…” 

“I wasn’t-” Y/n tried to object. 

Matty was quick to stop her.“Oh, you so were!” he laughed, resting his hands on her shoulders. Even though Y/n had a tick coat on, she could sense the warmth of his hands. Her shoulders relaxed under his touch. 

“It’s a classic! And look at this edition…” Y/n touched the spine of the book, feeling the soft friction of the material against her palm. “You can’t say to my face that you don’t think this is the most beautiful cop-” Y/n continued to ramble.

Matty cut her short, again, “I sure can.” He moved to stand at her side, taking a book he didn’t care about. Matty sensed her eyes on him, she was annoyed. Y/n always got annoyed when Matty joked about her fixation with books, even when she was aware Matty was only messing with her. “Soon I’ll open your flat's door and your books are going to kill me from an avalanche!” he gasped. 

Y/n rolled her eyes, “You’re so dramatic, Healy!” moving a few feet apart from him, returning the book to rightful place.

Matty copied her actions, before walking behind Y/n like a lost puppy. “I’m not when it’s about your books.” 

Y/n took a new one, trying to keep herself distracted.

“You have a lot of them all around your house…on the floor!” she accused her. It was another one of their debates about books. Y/n kept her beloved positions organized into shelves, by genres and alphabetical order. Matty made piles all around his house, which drove Y/n crazy. “Don’t get me started on that!”

“I don’t have as many as you…”

Y/n looked at him, “Yeah, no classics…” she protested. “You’re the cool postmodern bad boy that also reads!” the teasing was accentuated by a weird movement of her hands and limbs. Matty laughed at her poor impression of him. “Such a cliché.” Y/n said in a low breath, even though he heard her. 

“Excuse me?” he continued with the teasing. 

Y/n didn’t have more arguments to continue, so she just tried to shut him up.  “Shh, I'm reading!”

Matty took a good look at the new book Y/n was holding. He moved closer. 

“You already read that book, Y/n!” he complained, trying to take it from her hands. “At least, buy one you hadn't.” Matty advised Y/n, leaving a sweet kiss on her hair line. 

Y/n admired Matty in complete silence. The singer closed the book, left it on the shelf, and tried to find one she didn’t have read. His frown trying to focus on the task was the cutest sight for Y/n’s eyes. 

Everything was interrupted when Matty glanced at the other side where Y/n wasn’t standing, making short eye contact with a group of teenagers. He turned around, shielding Y/n from their view. 

“Oh, shit…” he said under his breath, without taking another look at the group. 

“What?” Y/n asked, intrigued by his sudden change of attitude. 

“Fans.” Matty only explained for her.

He pushed Y/n to the end of the aisle, trying to be gentle while guiding her body from behind. Soon they were at a hidden corner of the bookshop, away from fans attention. 

“They recognized me? I was trying to keep my profile low…” Y/n joked about it, she wanted to ease his tension. “Y’know, I just stay hidden at home. It’s impossible to breath with all this attention-“ she kept going, watching how Matty paranoid looked around. 

“You’re not funny, you know?” he said, folding his arms, annoyed. 

“I am!” 

Y/n copied his posture.

“No.” 

Y/n stared at his eyes, creating a battle of who could maintain it longer. She smirked.

Y/n clapped in front of his eyes, “Sure, let’s ask my fans!” she proposed and started walking.

She didn’t go very far. Matty stopped her, holding her by her hip when Y/n tried to walk around his body, blocking the way.

“No.” Matty said, shortly, looking down at her eyes. “If they approach us, I’ll talk with them. Not the other way around.” Y/n stayed there, mesmerized by his soft dominance. “This is the last evening, in…months, that I’m going to see you.” Matty explained the reasons behind his actions.

“One month.” Y/n corrected him.

Matty didn’t say anything about it. He continued, “And I love my fans, but I won't waste the short time we have away from you, love.”

Y/n boobed her head up and down, “Okay.” she agreed with him. His closeness was overwhelming, so she returned to her safe space: books. 

Matty was cheeking his phone, meanwhile Y/n focused on a new story. 

“You know what’s funny?” she interrupted the silence they had been for a few minutes. 

“No, what?” he replied to a few messages from the boys and Jamie. 

“They never paired us together.” Matty eyes grew three sizes when her words reached his ears. 

He commented the reasonable thing to say, “Because we’re friends.”

Y/n didn’t stop talking her thoughts out loud. “Yes, I know. It’s strange. Like, every girl that breathes around you is dating you most of the time for fans and tabloids…”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“And yet, here we are.” Y/n closed the book with a big sound. “I’ve been around you for years now and not a single article. They even shipped you with Phoebe!” 

“Let me get this right.” Matty rubbed his face. “You are angry because they don’t think we’re possibly dating?”

Y/n turned to be face to face again with Matty. She noticed he was trying –miserably–  to suppress a smile. Matty waited for her answer patiently, entertained by her dissertation. 

Y/n replayed his words, cringing instantly, “When you put it in that way, no.” she shook her head. “What I’m trying to say is that I feel underrated by public opinion. Like, I’m not suitable for Matty the ratty Healy?” 

Matty’s face fell, “Y/n…”

“Am I not beautiful enough?” she let her hand swing into the air. Matty took it, catching it between his own. 

“It’s not that!” Matty said, looking at her eyes.

Anything seems to work with her. Y/n didn’t know how to stop up to that point of the conversation. “Am I not smarter enough? I've met some of his girlfriends, and I don’t want to shame anyone but…I do have a higher IQ.” Matty wanted to laugh about how she was talking to him, but at the same time she was talking to herself as if he wasn’t standing in front of her.

“Y/n!” Matty tried to bring her back.

“What? I really want to know now.” 

“There’s no conspiracy theory behind it. They know you’re my best friend.”

“I know! But…”

“Drop it.” Matty drew circles on her hand. He wanted to change the topic, although he didn’t want to be insensitive with her.

Y/n studied his factions, without uttering a single word. 

She took her hand from his, muttering, “Annoying.” 

“You can’t be bothered by this…” Matty made his try to laugh about it.

“Watch me.” she was so stubborn when she wanted.

“Y/n!”

Her cheeks were red, she wanted to floor to swallow her body, it was too late to abandon her battle. “What? I know is childish and…”

“Immature.” Matty contributed.

“Yeah, thank you.” her tone sarcastic. “What if I was famous and no one paired you with me, ha? How that would make you feel?”

“There’s no point-“

“What if they ship me with George…or Ross? Adam is probably in love with a Carly in every dimension.”

“You’re thinking way too serious about this.” Matty placed his hands at each side of her face, forcing Y/n to look at him.

“This is your fault.” Y/n protested.

Matty scoffed, “What? Why?”

“You and your fans underrate me.” she pouted like a little girl, action that made Matty melt.

Matty moved his hands to hold her blushed cheeks, “Woman, what are you talking about?”

“I just want to be called pretty…and good enough for-“

“Possible dating a rat?” Matty succeeded with his intention to make her laugh. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/n.” He admitted in a whisper. 

Y/n couldn’t keep looking at his eyes, so she fixed her sight on his tie. “Yeah, well, no one ships me with someone famous.”

“I ship you with me.” Matty spat, before he could rationalize what he was going to say and stop. His heart was beating fast inside his chest. 

“Matty…”

“Love…”

Matty leaned forward. His nose touched Y/n’s, when she was trying to understand if he was joking or not. She was expecting. 

He didn’t look at her eyes, he just stared at her lips. Y/n felt the urge to wet her lips, making Matty’s mind spin. The singer let his lips barely brushed with hers. 

Someone cleaned their throat from behind Matty’s form. “Excuse me-” the person started, “Do you need help with anything?” It was an employee from the shop. 

Matty leaned backwards a few inches, staring at an amused Y/n. “No, we’re good” he replied without turning around.

“Okay, tell me if-“ the person tried to add.

Matty cut them shortly, “Thank you.”

Once the person was out of sight, Y/n started laughing at Matty.

“What?”

“You didn’t have to be mean!” Y/n half whispered, scared someone might listen. 

Matty groaned. “I was going to display the most romantic kiss of my life…at a bookshop, standing beside Woolf and Wilde and this wank-“

“Matty!” Y/n complained, smiling wide. She tried to push his body from his shoulders.

“No, come here…we haven’t finished-“ Matty went to push her close again. 

Interruptions were the order of the day. The frontman closed his eyes, Y/n admired him. 

“Sorry…” A grown-up woman commenced shyly.  “Are you Matty from the 1975?” she added then. 

Matty wanted so hard to say no, so he could return to kiss Y/n for real this time. He glanced at her. They couldn’t be mean with fans. Y/n mimicked with her mouth a silence “go”, instructing him to talk with the woman. He breathed deeply.

“Hello, yes, nice to meet you.” Matty greeted her. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you guys. My daughter is a big fan…” she started to introduce herself to Matty.

Meanwhile, Y/n stayed behind, deep in thoughts. Was he really trying to kiss her? Or it was a joke, a prank?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tagging: @jagz72 @deamus-liv @mrspeacem1nusone

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

[sasheneskywalker]

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Why the Cynical Superhero Isn't That Interesting

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This video is not about The Batman | Renegade Cut

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Bad Superman - Postmodernism in Superhero Movies | Renegade Cut

Superman Isn't Jesus.

Satirizing Superman - Detail Diatribe

Superman: Collateral Damage – Detail Diatribe

The Divisive Politics of Bisexual Superman Backlash

No Way Home Was Kind of Sexist

Spider-Man, Class and Militarization in the Marvel Cinematic Universe

Saving MJ: The Feminism of the Spider-Man Films

WandaVision: Addiction, Abuse & The Fear of God

How WandaVision Avoided The "Crazy Woman" Trope

The Avengers - How Do We Know What's Right and Wrong? | Renegade Cut

Marvel Defenders of The Status Quo

Captain America: Civil War - Renegade Cut

Team America World Police: MCU | Copaganda Episode 6

Black Panther - Africa Without Colonization | Renegade Cut

Loki and How Conservatives Become Fascists

The Politics of The Boys

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Commodifying Bi Validation: Loki vs Russell T Davies

QueerCoding The Joker: An Analysis

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[purplecoffee13]

Mr. Sunshine - part 2

Part 1 & Series Masterlist & General Masterlist

Summary: “You start tutoring Harry, the two of you grow closer, and you get more and more confused with the way you feel about him.”

Wc: 4K

Tropes: grumpy!MC x sunshine!H

Warnings: none. Just Harry being a cutie and bantering with Y/N

"Wait... which one do metanarratives belong to again?"

"Lyotard!"

"Oi, chill out, sunshine! You're giving me too much information at the same time. Everything and everyone is beginning to look the same to me." Harry sighs, leaning back in his seat.

You and him had been going over different literary theories for the past few weeks. You felt it was necessary for him to be able to explain each theory at the top of his head, both for his upcoming re-sit as for his own benefit. It'd make it easier to identify said theories in the reading material you got from the course.

Your jaw clenched at his nickname for you. He had been using it ever since the first session. You knew he did it to annoy you, and it was most definitely sarcastic. If anything, you should call him sunshine. He is quite literally Mr. Sunshine. Always smiling, always happy and never put down by the weight of the world.

Asshole.

"The Postmodern Condition quite literally revolves around metanarratives. Or well, its skepticism towards it." You explain to him what feels like the thousandth time.

You aren't exactly annoyed with repetition; you knew what you were getting yourself into. You are simply frustrated with the fact that it seems like Harry doesn't want to remember what he's studying. You know he's smart, and you know he can memorize things quite quickly, but these literary theories seem to be kicking him in the butt.

You, however, have found that with enough nagging and fed up glares he puts in the work you know he's capable of. He likes your stern attitude, maybe it motivates him better, you think.

Harry has been loving your tutoring hours, and he never wants it to end. He loves postmodernism and post-structuralism, and knows more about the subjects than the professor of your course, but he made sure not to tell you. It would just be two more things for you to explain to him, and an opportunity for more tutoring sessions to attend.

He knows that you have been trying to be nice, and he sees that you've been enjoying helping him. Those soft sides of you, though they didn't come out often, were like seeing rays of sunshine through a cloud. But he loved your storm, and frankly, he was getting a bit freaked out at how non aggressive you were being towards him. So he found other ways to get on your nerves, and boy did it work.

"Right, right... I'm hungry, wanna eat something?" Harry changes the subject once again. He has been unwilling to study this whole session. It seems like this week he has lost all motivation and it is irritating you to no end. He almost has all the necessary theories down, but it appears as if he doesn't want to remember them.

"No! We aren't done yet. C'mon, you literally almost got it." You growl, the frustration dripping from your voice. Arms crossed, you stare at him and watch as he leans forward to you with a deviant smirk on his face.

"Get food with me and I promise I'll be a good student." He tries to bargain.

"I don't know why you're trying to bribe me with your obedience. These tutoring sessions are beneficial to you, not me." You cross your arms, leaning back into your seat. You are exhausted from all the studying too, but you know that if he just puts his mind to it, it won't take longer than ten minutes for Harry to have everything memorized. But of course, he needs to take the difficult route...

"How do you feel about burgers? I'm not really in the mood for pizza tonight." Harry ignores you and takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Harry!" You groan, throwing your head back in frustration.

"Fine, sunshine, if you really want pizza we'll go to Alessandro's." He sounds like a defeated child, and despite the migraines Harry caused you, a smile grew on your face.

"I hate you." You simply say, fighting the corners of your lip from tugging up.

"You love me. It's okay, you can admit it. I love you too, you know?" Harry just grins at you. Your jaw is clenched and you roll your eyes, and he celebrates before you even say the word, because he's learned everything about your body language when it comes to his. Rolling your eyes means he's won you over.

When Harry closes his books and starts packing up, you frown. "What do you think you're doing? We're going right back to studying after dinner."

"I know." He shrugs, continuing to put away his stuff.

"Then why are you putting your books in your bag?"

"Because we're going out to eat." Harry says, getting up and putting on his jacket. Not once does he meet your eye. His casual tone has you dumbfounded.

"I thought you were ordering pizza." You squint your eyes at him, trying to get him to stay. Why did he insist on all the hassle anyway?

"You don't want pizza." He replies in a calm tone as he begins packing up your books for you. You look up at him, your glance shooting down to the necklace that dangles below his face as he leans over you. His scent takes over your entire nose, and you feel yourself get a little distracted from it. Just for a second, though. You are quick to regain your senses.

"Don't tell me what I feel." You growl at him. Harry doesn't do anything but chuckle at your — to him — weak attempt at shoving him away. Not today, he thinks. Not ever.

"When we got pizza two weeks ago, you said you can only have it every few months, otherwise you'll get sick of it." Harry says, and you feel you ears go red. You had said that. And he had remembered it.

What a weirdo.

After a few moments of silence, you decided to speak up. After all, he was being nice and all, so you figured you owed him a reply at the very least.

"Where is this stupid hamburger place anyway?"

************************************************

"I can't believe you still haven't had enough." You say, eyes wide as you watch Harry completely demolish what's left on your plate after you gave up on clearing it.

He ate so much, which wasn't particularly weird for a guy built like him. He needed the food, it was fuel to him and he had mentioned that he hadn't eaten a lot today. Still, you find yourself fascinated at just how much he manages to eat.

"Oi, stop shaming me."

"I'm not shaming, just observing." You shrug, letting your gaze fall into the rest of the diner where Harry drove the both of you tonight. It was a bit old fashioned, had some of that 50's retro feel to it. Reminded you of Grease. You loved that movie.

You find two of the waitresses giggling and staring at Harry while whispering things to each other. When they catch your gaze, their eyes widen for a second, before they both turn their back to you and get back to work. Weird.

"What are you glaring at?" Harry asks before taking a drink from his coke. You eyes shoot back to his. You hadn't realized you were glaring. No wonder the girls didn't dare hold your eyes.

"I'm not glaring, this is just my face." You give him a sarcastic smile, fiddling with the straw of your drink. Harry, sipping on that drink of his, still manages to conjure somewhat of a smile which he happily throws at you. You feel yourself envy him for it. That lightness he carries with him, the way he uncomplicates things with the light of his smile. It's unfair, and yet there is no way in which you could ever be mad at him for it.

"Can I ask you a question?" You say it before you can stop yourself. This so isn't you, why would you ask permission to ask him a question? What has gotten into you?

"Yes, they're real." Harry strokes a finger over his mouth and pulls it into a naughty smile.

"Harry..." you urge.

"You can ask me anything, sunshine." He assures you before taking the last piece of your hamburger in his mouth, and you ignore how your cheeks warm up at the way he says your name.

"How are you always so... happy?" You tilt your head a bit as you ask the question. You wait until Harry has swallowed his food and took another gulp of his drink before finally saying something.

"I regularly get laid."

Your eyes widen in horror. Of course you wouldn't get anything close to a serious answer from him. That's what irritated you about him. It wasn't the part where insinuating that he was sleeping with other people bothered you, it was the part where he took everything as a joke. Yeah, that was the part that annoyed you the most. Harry starts laughing at your shocked face.

"What? It's true." He chuckles. "It's way easier to have a positive outlook on life if you aren't sexually frustrated."

It stays quiet between the two of you. It is a moment in which you pretend you do not find his answer funny, and where he pretends he doesn't know you do actually find it funny.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asks, and you nod, hoping the subject will be changed now. That vulnerable moment of yours didn't unravel the way you hoped it would. Nothing ever unravels the way you think it will around Harry.

"How come I've never seen you at a party?"

You shrug. "Maybe you haven't looked hard enough."

"I have." Harry doesn't miss a beat with responding to you. "You're never there. You hate people that much?"

"I don't hate people." You suddenly feel defensive. You never quite mind having people think of you as a the boring silent girl or the buzz killer, but Harry just confronting you with it hits harder than it should. Maybe it's because he's saying it, or maybe it's because of your past experiences. Either way, it's bothering you.

"Then what is it?" He keeps pushing.

"None of your goddamn business." You snap at him; your standard method to keep people as far away as you can. But Harry shakes his head, making a disapproving noise.

"Nope. I answered your question, you answer mine. An eye for an eye, my friend." He argues casually. Silence befalls the two of you as you ponder on how to answer that. You half expected him to throw out some profanities and leave, like you think the average person would have done if they had been snapped at like that, so now you're at a loss for words.

"I don't like to drink."

"That's why you don't go to parties?"Harry frowns in a way where you know he doesn't fully believe you. You ignore it, and shrug you shoulders.

"I guess, yeah." You slowly nod, quite satisfied with your answer of choice. It's partly honest and believable, although Harry doesn't quite seem to.

"You don't have to stop yourself from going to a party just because you don't like to drink." Harry tilts his head.

"Yeah, thanks for the advice." You attempt to smile at him but it your mouth just twists very awkwardly and so you shoot your head down. You get up from the booth, and gather your stuff.

"I'm gonna go the bathroom, and then we're going to continue studying." You say, not even waiting for an answer before you walk away.

When you come back, Harry is already waiting by the door with his coat on. You frown and try to walk past him to the table, where you see some cash laying. But Harry grabs your arm and pulls you towards him before you can pass him. You look up at him with big eyes; you're caught off guard by his touch.

He opens the door for you and puts a hand the small of your back, leading you back to the car. He doesn't take it off of you, even though you're already outside.

"How much was it?"

"It's taken care of."

"How much was it?"

"Consider it a payment for your tutoring services." Harry says as he opens the car door for you.

"Harry!" You cross your arms, scowling at him. He chuckles at your angry demeanor. He chuckles! You couldn't believe him, he thought your anger was funny?! "You pay me in coffee. Just let me pay you back."

"It's really okay, Y/N. I was the one who wanted to go out to eat, I was happy to pay." He says, keeping his eyes on you as he takes a hold of your crossed arms and pushed you into the passenger seat. For some reason, you let him. And he knows you are letting him do this, and it makes the grin on his face grow even more. "Feet in."

You hesitantly follow his orders, but your crossed arms and scowl remain. Your eyes widen when Harry grabs your seatbelt and leans over you to buckle it. You want to be mad at the way he's handling you like a toddler, but then again you are acting like that out of some form of defiance to him paying for you. But it's mostly the smell of his perfume that washes any anger or resentment you might have towards him away. You stare breathlessly at the few curls that hangs before his face and you realize you haven't ever seen anyone this beautiful.

Harry doesn't look at you when he pulls away, or as he closes your door and walks to the drivers' seat. He doesn't even glance at you when he's buckling his own seatbelt or starting the car. But you do. You stare at him like a freak. When the car starts you get thrown out of your trance, and you realize... fuck. You need to get laid.

************************************************

You:

Hey

Harry:

Hey sunshine

You:

you reply fast

Harry:

only if it's important ;)

You:

🙄… I wanted to say thanks for the dinner again. I hope it wasn't too expensive.

Harry:

it was my pleasure sunshine. And it wasn't :)

You:

are you sure? I mean the prices of these food joints keep getting higher and higher

Harry:

I'm not going to let you pay your part.

You:

come on! why not? I don't want to feel like I owe you anything

Harry:

I owe you more than you owe me. You're the one tutoring me.

You:

still...

Harry:

dinner is on me. End of discussion.

besides, a gentleman always pays on the first date.

You stare at your screen, wide eyes. How does he always know how to shut you up?

Harry:

that's what I thought. Goodnight sunshine xx

************************************************

"I think you got it." You sigh, leaned back in your seat as you look at Harry, who is sitting across from you. His eyebrows knit together, and he shakes his head.

"I don't know..."

"Harry, you're going to ace this re-sit. I promise, you know more about literary theories than I did when I made the test, and I got an A." You assure him.

Ever since your shared dinner, Harry insisted on meeting up three times a week instead of two. Sometimes he would even plead for four, and since you had quite literally no friends and thus no social life, you agreed. It was kind of pathetic, but you had begun to realize that you might have just become a loner out of habit, not because you necessarily love being on your own more than being around people.

It had dwelled on you, that thought. The idea that you maybe had been a people person after all, but that no one wanted to hang out with you, which made you grumpy and hurt and caused you to push people away. But you knew that it wasn't a thought, it was a realization. You had pushed the happiness of other people's company away because what happened in the past had scared you too much.

Harry looks at you, unsure. You don't like seeing him this insecure, even though you know it's just his nerves for the re-sit on Friday. Over the weeks you have gained this need to see him happy, which has confused you to the very max. But you can't help it, it doesn't look right when he's anything but cheery.

"How about you go over your notes, find your weak points, and memorize the fuck out of those. And then I'll go over everything with your on Friday morning." You offer, and he nods, grabbing the papers and starting to wade through them. His face is bundled up into a serious, concentrated frown. His concentration face is the closest you think you're ever going to be to seeing his angry face.

You sit in silence for the next five minutes as you wait for him to highlight all the points he wants some more clarification on. You drink the last of your caramel macchiato and get up to throw it away. Harry's eyes shoot up towards you, and he sits up a little straighter. You have noticed over the past two months that Harry is very observant of your every move.

A couple more minutes go by in which he silently studies the papers in his hands and you're cleaning up the mess you both have made on the desk. The amount of books and notes and scribbles have gone into these months of tutoring is insane. Besides your uni work, this is the most effort you've ever put into something, or better said someone. But it was worth it. You're staring at him and you think yes, yes it was worth it.

If there's anything that you have learned from your limited time with him, it's that he might just be the only one whose annoying features don't annoy you.

You thought that maybe your introverted character was just you shutting out anyone who would dare to come to close, and maybe it was, partly at least, but you had realized that there was a reason you didn't talk to a lot of people. They were insufferable!

You had tried, after your dinner with Harry, to be more social in class. Maybe even 'get laid' as Harry had so eloquently described. At the end of the day, he was kind of right. And you thought that maybe you just had some kind of stick up your ass that needed to be removed.

But you soon realized that it wasn't all you. People were annoying. So, in the end you only got a bit closer to your roommate. She was cool, and like Harry, her presence didn't make you want to rip your hair out.

You know, though, that with Harry it's different. It's extra comforting and extra calming, but you aren't quite ready to admit that to yourself. It's best to ignore it, especially because after these tutoring sessions, the contact between you and him would have to come from his own free will. And you didn't think you were fun enough for him to stay friend with voluntarily.

"Okay." Harry sighs, leaning back as he threw the paper on the table. He's so tired; his eyes are a bit red. He really needs to sleep.

"Don't look so freaked out, you're fine." You spew out the most encouraging thing your brain can come up with. Inspirational speeches have never really been your forte, so to say.

Harry doesn't say anything, just nods and packs his bag. You feel a pit in your stomach. He looks kind of sad. Did you just cause that?

In a state of panic, you fiddle with your opened bag, and an un-eaten Twix bar you bought earlier today catches your eye. You never ate it because you forgot, and now you're not hungry anymore. You take it out of your bag and put it on his side of the table.

Harry, who was organizing his own stuff, frowns at the candy bar laid in front of him, and his eyes slowly trail up to you. You just stare at him, almost a scared look on his face, as you keep your mouth shut and pray he will understand the message.

"Did you just give me a candy bar?" He questions the obvious. You nod, which seems to make him more confused. "Why?"

You shrug your shoulders, and start packing up more of your stuff. Your jaw clenches and upon feeling your cheeks heat up, you reach out to snatch the candy bar away from him. "You know what, never mind—"

But Harry grabs your wrist before you can take a hold of the candy bar, and he takes the Twix with his other hand, putting it in his bag. He gives you a playful smirk as he leans forward, your hand brushing against his shirt.

"Thank you, sunshine."

He knew what the Twix bar meant, he knew you were trying to console him in your own odd way. He just wanted to put you on the spot. You scowl at him, but don't say anything.

"So, I had a question." Harry says after letting go of your wrist and continuing to fill up his bag with his studying materials. You hum a in a bored tone, a bit frustrated with him at the way he just teased you.

"My friends are throwing a party on Saturday, and I thought you might like to come with me."

Your mouth is still tightly shut, but the glare you send his way is enough of an answer. No.

"What do you say, hmm? I promise it'll be fun." He wiggles his eyebrows. Your glare shoots from his eyebrows back to his eyes. You don't know if that was supposed to make the offer enticing, because if anything it made you want to go even less.

"No."

"Ah, c'mon! Why not?"

"I don't drink." You throw the argument from last time back on the table.

"We'll stay sober together. We'll just drink soda or whatever."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I told you, I don't drink." You say, and get up from your seat, walking away.

"And I told you, we can stay sober. You don't need alcohol to have fun." Harry shrugs, stumbling out of his seat to catch up with you.

"I know that." You grumble.

"Then what's the problem? Why don't you want to go?"

You're waiting until you snap at him. Tell that he needs to mind his own business and quit pushing you because he's not your friend or even anything close to that. That just because you sit and help him in exchange for coffee means that he is entitled to know anything about you.

But you can't. Because it isn't true. So even though there's a part inside of you that tells you to scream at him, you take a deep breath instead. You turn to him, and look into his green eyes. You don't stare at them often enough.

"Because I don't want to drink."

"But I just said—"

"At all."

Harry tilts his head at your confession. You hold your breath until he finally speak up again.

"At all?"

"At all."

You look at him expectantly, but an answer never comes from Harry. Instead, he simply nods and resumes to walking. Slightly dazed, it takes a few seconds for your feet to get with the program and start moving too.

The rest of the way to your place, he says absolutely nothing...

[iclosedoors]

okay okay. let me explain

so me and my friend juno have this au where we mash the magverse and ars paradoxica together

so jonathan sims is some physicist that gets sent back with sally and nikhil (in this au nikhil lives longer than five seconds in 1943!!!!!)

nikhil also went to oxford with jon, so naturally he knows about his old band

feeling nostalgic for modern music, they band together to form the band Nikhil MinSaJ. Theyre essentially the opposite of postmodern jukebox.

jon sings most of the songs (except the few that are simply TOO much like the cupcakke songs and also WAP), sally sings the rest because nikhil is TERRIBLE

actually there was this one time they got helen to sing a song. five nights at freddys, the jazz version. she was very perplexed

sally plays the kazoo, passionately. nikhil knows a little guitar. he is not so good because he relied on guitar tabs. there are no guitar tabs in 1943.

i made a cover for their album:

the green crayon is actually stolen from petra (jon stole it)

idk who threy got to draw the main part of it, but they only really drew the green parts

here is their entire discography. we take suggestions

here is a couple other facts from our au:

- after nikhil attempted to seduce sally, he turned to jon who was shoved in the back. this went as smoothly as you can imagine

- jon visibly winces anytime he has to refer to martin (who he left in modern times) as his wife, Margaret. everyone just thinks he really hates his wife. only nikhil, sally, and esther know about martin.

- nikhil and sally started doing this thing where everytime the time piece would fuck up or they just fucked it up on accident theyd excuse it by saying jon was simply throwing ass too hard and damaged it. no clue where we started with this headcanon. anyways jon always just goes along with it without question.

- they make up other insane shit about jon that he just accepts and carries on with

- they take jon to las vegas and he loses all his money gambling

- jon will openly tell chet wickman to kill himself in front of everyone because he really just fucking hates chet whickman. in fact he would be so pissed to find out that in protocol they refer to him as chester. he does not want to be associated with that man

- jon keeps a really shitty drawing of martin in his wallet, much like how a soldier would keep a black and white photo of their wife while out at war. sometimes he stares blissfully at it, pining helplessly. no one can tell what the drawing is of, except him.

- jon roasts the shit out of anthony partridge because his wife left him. he will NEVER let that down. anthony is very disturbed by this little man and grimaces anytime he walks in the room

- jon really struggles to conform to the standards of the 1940s but they cant just let him do whatever cus he will ACTUALLY die

- the magnus institute kids from tmagp (gerry, sam, and presumably alice) are all part of the plasticity kids group

- they all live together with the cat and everything. every once in a while they will run into each pther in the kitchen at three am. jon will always walk in and say the most insane shit ever. i actually drew one of these moments here

as you can see jon is very disturbing

oh tjis is how jon draws petra and carmen

oh here is just a drawing of them brainstorming

oh i also made a fuckass edit of them

you may not get many of yhe references in it becahse it was never meant to see the light of day really

anyways cringe culture is dead i made this for anyone just as brain rotted as we are.

i hope this makes someone happy

[sivavakkiyar]

Actually the best story of Said from Najla’s memoir is about the time she first came back home from college. According to her she hadn’t really paid attention to her dad’s work, he was her dad. So she was just discovering theory, as you do, and was telling him about stuff she was reading and started explaining postmodernism. And he looks at her and half exasperated says ‘Najla, they say I invented postmodernism’