#the contrast for my internal monologue to go from

[forzaferraris]

NOTHING MATTERS — op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader

summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !

style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.

faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.

word count: 4.1k +

YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.

you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.

however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.

and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.

your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.

your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.

the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.

“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.

“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.

“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.

had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.

“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.

oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.

the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.

if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.

you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.

“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.

“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.

“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.

you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.

"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."

you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.

the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.

his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.

you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.

if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.

he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.

oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.

your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.

"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"

the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.

"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"

you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.

your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.

his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.

"please oscar, fuck me"

there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.

the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.

"you're so tight, holy shit."

his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.

you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.

in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.

arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot

"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"

you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.

the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.

it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.

you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.

yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party

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oscarpiastri oh.

authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.

add yourself to the taglist here !

taglist: @iluminaya @therealcap @marshmummy @@im-an-overthinker @a1leexxa @chasing-liberosis @marauderssworld @nesssywrites @valntynebaby @larastark3107 @justtprachisblog

[melrosing]

so stuff I’ve not liked about the finale and S2 more generally…. unfortunately it’s a lot and i'm thinking i might need to say this in several parts but first and foremost: the pacing really was shit and i don't just mean there weren't enough action scenes i mean the whole season they've had almost nothing to say about these characters and have just been making us think they do by having them repeat the same ham-fisted monologues about power and peace and the cost of war and whatever whilst moving at a glacial pace from one minor plot point to another and by the end of it most of these characters STILL haven't changed, and where they have it feels undeserved, and yes they really are at roughly the place they started so what have they even got to show for these eight hours of TV?? like damn

and I do get that the writer's strike has really effected them here and HBO hacking two eps off their season affected them too and that really can't be helped. but the pacing has been pretty poor from kick off and I can't just put it down to this being a more 'internal' season. i do not care about big battles. it's fine to have a season of a show that’s more about the characters’ interiority rather than plot action. that’s the exact reason why I like AFFC so much.

but these characters barely have interiority like idk what to say. some like Rhaenyra, Jace and Alicent have been spouting the same monologues every episode about wanting peace/wanting agency/wanting peace again etc etc, and the more interesting moments like Alicent's apparent suicide attempts, Rhaenyra's butchering of the dragonseeds etc... I mean where IS the interiority here?? unless they are spelling out a character's thoughts in the most literal way they can (as per Jace's diatribes about the dragonseeds), they leave their audience to do absolutely all the work by showing us nothing, and just leaving us to figure that the characters must be having some kind of thoughts but y'all can decide what they are.

and even Daemon, whose entire ARC was about his interiority.... like look I was so so ready to love this arc. i love fucked up little dream sequences. i love harrenhal. i was really enjoying the angle they took with alys. i was here for it. but now we've seen the whole of his S2 arc, im going to say yes, it was intended as a redemption adjacent kind of arc, and it isn't a very good one. Daemon has a handful of weird dreams, gets shouted at by some Riverlands folk, and he's a changed man.

consider the character everyone compares Daemon to (and who I'm always more than happy to talk about) and that's Jaime. and look at the sheer ground covered in ASOS: Jaime breaks out of a dungeon, Jaime meets a younger version of himself, Jaime gets his hand hacked off, Jaime reveals his anime villain backstory in the bath, Jaime deals with Roose Bolton, Jaime has a weird weirwood dream, Jaime fights a fucking bear - and at this point we're still only about halfway through.

now in contrast, what have they actually managed to do with Daemon this season. where has that finale moment with Rhaenyra been earned. this is not slow pacing for the sake of powerful character development, it's slow because they don't have anything else to say.

and also look at the state of characters like Aemond who seemed really promising in S1, yet in this season he barely reflects on the fact that he hadn't meant to kill Luke, and this war is an accident that he started, etc etc - he's just a killing machine lol. there were some nice touches in there, like i say i enjoyed Helaena telling Aemond how he'll die in the finale. but I no longer trust these writers to do anything with their more inspired ideas because they just consistently fail to do so.

look at Baela!!! like my god, has Baela had the opportunity to do anything except A) what she's told and B) counsel men on their feelings. she has like one moment looking at Daemon and you feel like the series is going to explore how complex it is to be Daemon Targaryen's daughter.... but my god they never do!! so where IS this interiority we've spent eight episodes on! what have they got to show for it!!

and i talked more weeks back about how frustrating i've found the writing of women more generally in this series and as of the finale I am finding it so egregious and so condescending. women want peace. women want to protect their children. women are tired of men. women are tired of war. women are trying to end this war peacefully. women are pacifists. women hate violence. and so on and so on and so on like jesus christ who am i even talking about here. even i don't know. it's so boring. it's so dry. and it requires female characters to always be the paragons of virtue, never do anything truly condemnable, never be unlikeable, never fucking anything except stand around saying how much they hate this. im bored of it and it makes me angry that they would do this in a series that specifically seeks to make everyone grey and everyone complex - they keep suggesting that might extend to the women before abruptly shutting it down again. see Alicent and Rhaenyra even STILL, after EVERYTHING, trying to peacefully shut down the war for the sake of love and friendship in the goddamn finale. I don't believe it anymore!! it's not cute! it's just dull!!!

and finally that just kind of brings me to how shortsighted a lot of the plot developments seem, when you see how the characters fail to reckon with their pasts or shit that just happened. Rhaenyra and Mysaria make out, and then that's never mentioned again and the tone never changes between them. Rhaenyra is done thinking about Luke. Helaena is done thinking about Jaehaerys. Aegon actually didn't mention Jaehaerys in the list of things he's 'lost' in that finale. Alicent's relationship w Viserys was just now condensed to 'we were fond of each other but he always liked your mum better'

like idk it's just. if this season's pacing is all about giving characters the chance to change and grow into the people they'll be when this war REALLY kicks off.... do it. write it. do not just write the same monologue a dozen times and hope it'll hit harder with each. doesn't work like that. sorry.

[1moreff-creator]

What are some dynamics (in terms of like, foils/parallels) that you enjoy in DRDT?

you’re staring at a forest and asking me for every tree i like. do you want me to write another 28k word post /lh

I jest, of course, but not about the number of interesting foils in this series. It does a fantastic job tying everyone into several key themes in ways that make their dynamics endlessly enriching for my silly little character parallel-loving brain. So, uh, get ready for a long-ish post?

CW: One mention of self-harm, self-loathing

Teruko-David: I mean, you gotta start at the center, yeah? David’s the closest thing to a “main antag” we have, and it’s no wonder; the guy’s built like a standard DR protag, obviously he’s gonna have a cool dynamic with the actual protagonist. 

These two could breathe a bit weird and somehow parallel each other doing it, that’s how much this foil permeates both their characters. From their fatalistic outlooks on the world (“my luck will always be terrible, I’ll always be betrayed” vs “people can’t change, the world sucks”), the ways they hide their feelings (Teruko was more distrustful than she first presented herself as, but cares about people more than she shows during most of CH2; while David has an entire different persona up to 2-11 and then pretends to be worse than he actually is), the self-loathing (Teruko refuses to think she could be a good person, David has the whole “inhuman” thing going on), down to the oddball sibling figure (Terubro “I know nothing about you” Tawaki vs Diana “I’m not even sure you exist” Chiem).

There’s their feelings about Xander and Min, too, which are all over the place. Obviously we all saw in 2-12 how much the British twink fucked both of them up severely, with Teruko rejecting any positive or yearning feelings she may have had about Xander (you can’t hide the cactus scene from us girl) while David vehemently defended him from any criticism. On the other side, Min is less of a narrative poltergeist (for now; XF-Ture exists), but she still comes up with them, with David calling her pathetic eleven episodes after Min hugs Teruko and Teruko’s internal monologue gives away how much she cares about the Student. 

And these parallels play into their weird-ass dynamic very well, because their beefing is founded on their similarities and their differences, out of projecting their self-loathing to someone similar at the same time they hate each other because of their disagreements on things like Xander. Crazy stuff.

Xander-Min: Mentioning these two second because they’re also Eternal Parallels. There’s almost not a single thing about these two that isn’t somehow reflected on the other. If you projected them onto each other’s direction, you would get no perpendicular component. Get it, ‘cuz they’re completely parallel- That is, by far, the nerdiest joke I’ve ever made, I apologize.

But come on. Their attitudes towards fate (the Rebel fighting it and Min resigning herself to the XF-Ture thing), the whole “holding on to the past vs wanting to move on from the past” thing, the similarities between how they actually feel about the education system (they have issues with it) contrasted with the things they actually do in respects to that (Min is still the Ultimate Student, but Xander dislikes that), their already mentioned contrasting connections to Teruko and David… Just, absolutely everything about them is a meaningful contrast. And it comes into play a lot, with their eternal beef being born largely out of these parallels. They’re awesome.

Teruko-Ace: Pretty topical for post-CH2. Ace’s entire arc is sort of a reflection of Teruko’s, yet taken to the extreme because of one particular point of contrast; Ace feared death, Teruko doesn’t think she can die. But he still basically serves as a demonstration of all the flaws in Teruko’s all mindset; the feeling of unchangeable fate, the complete lack of trust, all the good stuff. It basically allows an exploration of Teruko’s mindset from an outside perspective, which makes it easier to see the flaws in it.

Ace-Nico: Also topical, these recap foils go kinda insane. Their motives for murder, their contrasting talents (love for animals on Nico's side and fear of horses on Ace's), the way they relate to the rest of the cast, Ace's persecution complex vs Nico actively disliking how much Hu defends them, etc., it’s all very fun to see play out. 

Ace-Levi: The one who doesn’t care but protects others and tries his best to be a good person so he can be accepted in society without having issues, vs the guy that acts like an asshole because he’s scared of caring too much and he thinks the only way he can get out alive is by being the only one to survive. This leads to a fundamental misunderstanding between them that causes some of the most doomed yaoi of all time, which is the whole “Levi getting frustrated at not understanding Ace.” 

Arei-David: You’ve presumably watched 2-13, so I don’t think I need to explain all the awesome stuff that’s come from their shared themes of “good people” and self-betterment and all that. Not to mention, David’s little breakdown over Arei trusting the letter of the only friend she had being presumably born from the way he saw Xander as the only friend he had. Shit goes crazy.

Arei-Eden: Recap foils… Good people… The choice to be kind… Etc… Woah :O

Teruko-Charles: Ah, Teru’s recap foil. This one’s basically opposite of Ace’s, where Charles used to be sort of like Teruko acted in CH2, but later became a bit friendlier, if still somewhat prickly. Basically, if Ace highlights Teruko’s character traits from CH2, Charles post CH1 serves as more or less the “end goal” in a way. It goes beyond that, too, with the whole memory issues (prosopagnosia vs childhood amnesia) and, again, mysterious siblings (Terubro and Elliot what are your deals), so it’s always neat to rotate these two in the brain.

Veronika-Levi: We really don’t know too much about Vero, which always makes it a bit harder when analyzing these dynamics, but they already got some interesting points of contrast. Neither of them are particularly concerned about the deaths of the others, at least post-CH2 (Levi doesn’t grieve and Vero actively laughs at Ace’s death), but it comes from almost opposite ends of perspective. Levi doesn’t understand others because he doesn’t feel much empathy (if any at all), while Vero seems to treat the others not as people, but almost as characters to be analyzed (that’s the impression I get, at least), which makes her come off as very good at reading people but also occasionally causes her to see them as sources of entertainment first and foremost. Not to mention there’s also the fact they’re both very different people than they were in the past (Levi was some form of delinquent and now is a good person, Vero used to be outdoorsy and then no longer was). Wow that’s… more than I thought there was- How am I finding more interesting foils just by writing more???

Hu-Levi: I kinda talked about this in my CH2 PT2 analysis so read that ig.

J-Rose: A pair of recap foils who haven’t had too much yet, but a lot of their themes, in particular about fate and privilege and stuff, are pretty noticeable with them, so this is always a fun dynamic to consider.

Levi-Arturo: More recap foils, this one’s fun because of the dead family member :) Also things like their talents being related to aesthetics and both doing the things they do for a better life.

Veronika-Hu: This one’s kinda more hypothetical, since Vero in particular hasn’t had as much direct focus as other characters yet, but that’s part of what makes them fun. Past history of self-harm (even if brought on by very different feelings) is just the first of many parallels they could have, and it’s fun to see the contrast between Hu defending Nico to the ends of the Earth and Vero talking about how much she likes Arturo because of how awful he is. They’re really silly.

David-Whit: All the recap foils are fun, but I've always struggled to see this one in particular. Partly because I feel like I know less about Whit than I know about Mai :v Still, certain things like Whit ignoring anything that upsets him which connects to David constantly lying about his real feelings for his fans, which is probably what leads to David's outburst at Whit in the second trial.

Teruko-MonoTV: Because fate. Really this is here plainly because it’s just a funny as hell dynamic to even consider lol.

Teruko-Mai: Have they interacted? Has Mai had enough screen time to truly determine that this parallel truly exists? Do we even know a single theme that Mai’s character touches on for certain? No and it doesn’t matter! Because these two are clearly connected somehow and the whole “someone dearly loved - someone dearly unloved” thing makes me ill. Mai is getting mentioned in this post and you're not stopping it.

Mai-Whit: Fuck it! “We tend to idolize the dead” dynamic!!! It's very speculative, but this one’s just fun to ponder even if we have even less idea of what could be going on between the two than with Mai-Teruko.

Anyways ready for a few themes that run through a lot of characters?

David-Levi-Nico-Rose: The “feeling disconnected from the rest of humanity’s experiences” gang!!!

Min-Rose-Hu-Veronika-Arturo: The “wants to move on from the past” gang!!!

Min-Arei-Teruko-Ace: The “trying to fix mistakes” gang!!!

Teruko-David-Eden-Arei-Levi-Xander: The “what makes a good person?” gang!!!

Teruko-David-Xander-Min-J-Whit-Ace-Rose-MonoTV-Probably everyone else: Fate!!!!

And there’s more than I’m probably forgetting because I can’t possibly check every conceivable connection between these guys. At least I hope I covered most of the major ones. Thanks for the ask, these dynamics are always fun to think about!

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Love At First Sight (2023)

Okay, we’re going to talk about the new Netflix romance directed by Vanessa Caswill, Love At First Sight, because I’m seeing almost no chatter about it and that cannot stand. Full disclosure, I’ve never read the book on which this movie is based, The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight, so I’m reacting only to the film (which I’ve now seen 4.5 times in 2 days).

The Surface Reading

It’s a perfect, tight, adorable little RomCom that’s heavy on the Rom and light on the Com, with a wrenching dash of angst and the most hair-twirling chemistry between two leads that has graced our screens in years. Truly, if all you want is 90 minutes of two actors being saccharine precious cinnamon rolls, look no further!

There are simple takeaways here, like that chance can only take you so far, but in the end you have to choose to love. Or that change and loss are part of life and you can’t run from them. Or that London is a massive labyrinth of eccentric people that probably looks 400% cooler onscreen than it is in reality (I wouldn’t know, I’ve never visited, so this and the 90s Parent Trap are the extent of my knowledge about the city, sorry).

Anyway, I adored how straightforward the story was - that the narrator (played brilliantly by Jameela Jamil) tells you directly in the first two minutes that it’s a story about love, fate, and statistics. She then repeatedly describes every development as it is happening, the characters’ histories and internal monologues, and all the context you need to follow the thin but fast-paced plot. The writing, performances, and production design are all solid, allowing the audience to get lost in the romance as it unfolds.

BUT if you’re slightly unhinged like I am and you’re always looking for more layers in your media, HAVE NO FEAR! There is in fact more going on in this little movie than you might expect.

Color Theory

For starters, the use of red and green in the film is fascinating. Yes, I realize the action of the story takes place a few days before Christmas, so you might assume it was just a seasonal aesthetic choice, but if you look closer, you can see very carefully selected shades of red and green repeating throughout the film. The red is a cool, deep rose color, sometimes pink, while the green is cool and dark, like oxidized bronze rather than emerald. Further, while they appear over and over, these hues are rarely used in a purely decorative or festive way. Instead, they play a role in the separation and coming together of the couple. On a color wheel, red and green are complements, perfect opposites that are never adjacent but always joined in the middle.

The title card during Hadley’s introduction is literally a green stripe over a red stripe, then the hallways of the airport are green, and of course Hadley’s ever-important backpack is a rosy red. As the couple grow closer on their flight, the light turns pink. Once in London, a green van takes Oliver one way while a red taxi takes Hadley the other. At her father’s wedding, Hadley is dressed in red (“the color of a bruise” she calls it), contrasting beautifully against her green jacket. Upon realizing Oliver’s true purpose, she chases after him on an iconic red double-decker bus. Meanwhile at the living memorial, Oliver’s father is dressed in red while his mother wears a faded green, as if to say she is already beginning to fade away. The event is decorated with green drapery and streamers, and there are even stacks of red and green chairs in the stairwell where Oliver begs his mother to receive treatment.

Hadley gifts her red and green bouquet to Tessa, and when she is driven away, a green-clad narrator returns the red backpack to Oliver. Wandering London alone, Hadley exchanges her painful red heels for a pair of green trainers (“sneakers!” she insists), and tries to call her dad first in a red phone booth and then on a phone from a stranger sitting in a cluster of red chairs. Finally, Oliver chooses to pursue Hadley to the wedding reception which is lit in pink, and where they finally share the long-awaited kiss.

There are many more examples, but in general we see that green indicates separation and loss, while red symbolizes joining, intimacy, and (what else?) love! It lends the film a gorgeous, subtle aesthetic without being garishly festive, and shows the lovers’ emotional journey from lonely childhood to vulnerable, loving adulthood.

Death and Rebirth

Speaking of which, there’s plenty of rebirth imagery too! When Hadley and Oliver meet, they are both still children, struggling with the impending loss of parental security through divorce and death. Thus, when they board the plane, it is as if they enter an underworld or womb, separated from their families and remade as new adults. They emerge on the other side into a hallway (read: birth canal), as each must still confront their own dying childhood before they can join as full and equal partners. Hadley journeys to a bright, red-strewn celebration of life, while Oliver must enter a dark green commemoration of death, his fear driving him deeper to hide in another hallway. Here his mother comes to find him, begging him to emerge into life, but Ollie still can’t confront her death alone.

Thankfully, Hadley travels to this underworld to find him, bursting into the memorial like a bright red flower. Even the bruise metaphor works, acknowledging the pain they are both experiencing at the changes in their lives. But Oliver still refuses to face his fears, trying to take a shortcut around death to life with Hadley. Still, she knows he’s not ready (likely because she’s not yet, either), and gently pushes back. And so, Oliver returns to the underworld, and Hadley walks off alone until she descends barefoot through a soggy riverside tunnel (birth canal again!). Finally, she calls her father and admits she is “lost.” When he arrives, Hadley at last gathers the courage to ask why he ended their old life, and to tell him how much it hurt her. But as Oliver predicted, she forgives her dad and even begins to accept his new bride.

Back at the memorial, Oliver is reminded by Hadley’s red backpack - his unaddressed emotional baggage - to be honest about his pain. In at last openly mourning his mother and his own childhood, Ollie takes a step into adulthood, just enough for his family to nudge him that extra bit to go after Hadley. And so, the family delivers him to his bride, who has meanwhile learned to dance again, even through her heartbreak. With one last confession, the two consummate their love with a kiss, bathed in pink light before an open door.

Happily Ever After

There’s so much more, with the hand-holding, numbers, Shakespeare, Dickens, the music, and beyond, but the point is that this cute, charming little romance is actually very deliberately constructed. It follows timeless patterns and motifs which we instinctively understand through visual and auditory language. And the narration plays a huge role in this as well, not unlike the prologues and epilogues of the Bard’s plays in that they state the story’s lessons plainly: that we cannot always be prepared for unwelcome surprises, but that we can make the choice to love every day.

Anyway, Vanessa Caswill deserves all the flowers and if you haven’t seen her gorgeous adaptation of Little Women (with all due respect to the marvelous Greta Gerwig and Gillian Armstrong), please do yourself a favor and watch that after you finish this!

[stardustdiiving]

I would love to hear more about your thoughts regarding Wanderer being trans whenever you find the time to write about it more!

(follow up to this post)

AWESOME. okay. So. This got super long and I keep nitpicking if it clearly says every single thought that goes through my head or not so I’m just going to post it

There’s many interpretations about this headcanon I enjoy, but one particular angle I would find interesting to explore that I’ll pitch here is basically centered on a characterization where Wanderer’s internal relationship with his own transness is very tied with his non-humanness, maybe even more so than his gender.

The appeal of this angle for me is essentially having a character’s queerness tie into genshin’s overarching themes about identity & personhood, especially in regards to the relationship between divinity & humanity—themes that obviously apply to Scaramouche (and also basically every other not human genshin character I can think of that people generally agree are engaging characters)

Scaramouche (which name I use for him is intentional & reflects what era of his life I’m talking about) to me is someone who basically enforces a sense of apathy over his own emotions, especially ones relating to his sense of identity—he seeks godhood in hopes of being able to purge himself clean of experiencing (human) emotions, and therefore the vulnerability & trauma he associates with having them.

Intuitively I can see him feeling a similar conscious apathy about his gender: I see him as viewing gender identity as a “too human” trait and therefore something he’s above, basically—which is really a deeper deflection of his own insecurities with his personhood/identity.

So to Scaramouche, internally, anything about his transition or transness is less about gender and actually far more about his desire to obtain godhood, and this is a mental narrative he really sticks to because it fits in comfortably with his hatred of humans and desire for a purpose/identity for his existence as a non human entity “without a heart”.

If this were a fic I were writing, Scaramouche would undergo a lot of physical/medical transitioning during his time as a Harbringer and he would essentially be narrating & viewing anything gender affirming thing he does as him becoming closer to godhood and further from being human. This would contrast how I’d portray Kabukimono earlier on in his arc—where I imagine Kabukimono took on a lot of social transitions based on observing humans and building a sense for what human things he liked to participate in or mimic.

Kabukimono, in a manner similar to Scaramouche, might sometimes categorize some of his transness as relating to being more of a puppet/nonhuman origin thing than a gender thing, (ie getting gender dysphoria from having long hair but rationalizing it has more to do with not wanting to look like Ei), Kabukimono was more in a position of building towards his transness being a positive thing that affirmed him his sense of personhood & sense of belonging with others. By the time Scaramouche reaches the point of resenting humans, and in turn resenting his own sense of humanity in his arc, he needs to establish all parts of his identity as the farthest thing from human as possible

The irony, however, that I’d highlight in the hypothetical fic of this, is that Scaramouche’s experiences with his transness are narrated as being things no one could ever understand because of how inhuman he is—while in practice you see a lot of his trans experiences are actually pretty common ones many trans people would understand.

So like, Dottore does his canon typical physical experiments/modifications on Scaramouche, and the entire time Scara is undergoing but also gloating the entire time how he’s able to endure this because he’s not as weak as humans are—and this continues when, at Scara’s request, Dottore gives him Evil Mad Scientist Top Surgery, and he’s having this snide internal monologue about how godlike he is because of all the inhuman ways he can physically modify and mold his body to be to his liking, and then suddenly he looks in a mirror and sees himself with a flat chest for the first time and just has… like, a moment of very genuine happiness with feeling more like himself for the first time, and processing all the ways he can exist more comfortably in his body without having to work around dysphoria constantly. He imagines himself existing among humans in these brief thoughts without even realizing it, and the idea is this is written in a way that makes him sound very human—and how he seems happier when he lets himself be.

Meanwhile Dottore in the background is just, very nonchalant about this and makes some bored comment about they ought to not delay more important procedures any further if he wants to ascend to godhood anytime soon. Scaramouche kind of snaps out of it & back into his usual sort of headspace/mindset and kind of sneers at him how this was a far more significant step in ascending to godhood than Dottore could ever understand.

And after he says this he mentally pauses, because he really hadn’t been thinking of it like that before—and then wonders if it was true, because it wasn’t an experiment that made him feel more powerful like the other ones had. What he feels now is something other than more powerful—but there’s not really any other explanation for this reaction. More godly, maybe. It makes him feel not more powerful, but closer to what he wants—which is a god.

So from there my idea is Scaramouche kind of…attributes the joy associated with his top surgery, and other similar major landmarks in his transition, with his pursuit of godhood. It spurs him on to want to be a god even more, because it's solidified in his mind as the one thing he really needs to be himself/truly happy

And then he does finally reach godhood—and is plugged into the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom’s body, he’s just finds himself feeling disappointed.

He has this minor mental crisis about it where he’s not unsatisfied—he’s more exhilarated than he has ever felt in his entire life, because he feels unspeakably powerful in the way he should be. It /is/ everything he wanted, and he savors the sheer triumph and power of the movement, but it’s just not the same. It’s not enough to make him regret what it took to get here but he’s really frustrated, because he doesn’t feel happy. Which is not an emotion Scaramouche really cares about, but even one thing he wants being somewhat out of his reach when he had hoped to suppress all the unpleasantness of having emotions is deeply unpleasant for him.

I think the next time Scaramouche really feels something close to what he’d been missing is post Inversion of Genesis, after he becomes the Wanderer.

In this narrative I think it would be an extra kick in the face that Dottore had helped him with part of his transition while Scaramouche watches Dottore kill Niwa, where Dottore basically affirms Scara’s dehumanization while Niwa insists on affirming his humanity with his dying breath. There’s the obvious violation violation of realizing someone basically sabotaged your support systems to isolate/alienate you from the world, then manipulated and groomed you into joining the fatui so they could experiment on you for their own satisfaction and intrigue, but he also finds himself grappling with recontextualizing alot of his interactions with Dottore, and coming to this conclusion that Dottore was only ever vaguely interested in Scaramouche’s potential for godhood, and doesn’t care about…this other part of why that was important to Scaramouche as a person. (Which is his transness, basically)

It’s not that he ever believed Dottore cared about him or wasn’t pursuing his own interests, but I think recontextualizing how dehumanizing Dottore’s treatment + view of him is, forces him to really pick apart his transness vs desire for godhood, and realize there’s sort of a distinction between the two he hadn’t been making.

Post IoG I think this line of thinking, along with learning Niwa hadn’t betrayed him making him hate humans much less, lets Wanderer start developing a much healthier relationship with his transness, and also just his entire identity in general. He can reconcile with his own humanity, which lets him reflect on himself more, and I think eventually he can come to an answer on why becoming god wasn’t what he needed to be happy with himself + his gender.

So essentially I’d write present day Wanderer as being more comfortable with his gender than Scaramouche would be. If I were to apply our contemporary English labels/language to his gender I think he’d more or less jsut view himself as a trans guy, but I guess by technicality has a sort of “non binary” gender bc he just doesn’t view himself in terms of human binaries due to being a puppet?? That’s just my own characterization tho. All in all I bend characterizations of characters’ queerness in line with what whatever sort of transformative work I feel like doing so this isn’t even the only way I’d write trans Wanderer. Just usually the one I go off the most when portraying him as a character

[achaotichuman]

Okay i know I just sent an ask but pls HEAR ME OUT🤚🏽

Imagine....Tamlin at his lowest right? Crap has hit the fan, he's feeling awful. He finds this baby toddler, who's parents couldn't afford to take care of her because...the court is in shambles which means 1-economy is crap 2-its not a safe place to live in, without a leader, the country is basically a hazard

He feels bad but like, he can't even take care of himself so how is he going to take care of a TODDLER, which is arguably one of the worst stages for children. So he just decides to feed her, and you know, give her clothes and a shelter. The Manor is literally in shambles and Tamlin is a hermit half the time so he's only going to see her what, once a day to you know, make sure she's alive?

But you know what they say, give a stray food and they'll keep coming back. The girl gets attached and she starts yapping all the time whenever he comes to meet her, at first Tamlin was surprised because he's used to literally everyone treating him like either broken China or the most horrible monster, not a normal male. So little by little they get closer. And she kind of fixes him in a way.

(I'm so sorry If this made no sense my first language isn't English and its so late rn😭. Ily🫶🏾)

Helloo!!

Don't ever hesitate to send me an ask, I love them, send me a thousand a day I will read them all!

Okay, I have to have a moment, because I love this fic idea so much. This is frankly beautiful and has the potential to be so angsty.

I love fics that explore Tamlin's internal monologue and showcase the image he has of himself, and I think this absolutely has the potential to do so. One of my favorite things to write about is the character's internal conflict and showing how what they think of themselves differs from how the world views them.

And this would be so perfectly encapsulated with the fresh perspective of the toddler. A little kid who only sees the kindness of a big adult giving them love and affection when they have just had that removed by their parents abandoning them. They are too young to understand complex ideas, so they don't understand that they have been abandoned or why, they don't understand how Tamlin is the High lord or what he's done before. They just see this parental figure and understand that they are giving them love.

Take that perspective and put it next to Tamlin's image of himself. How he is filled with self-loathing and feelings of unworthiness. Riddled with guilt for what he's done and thinking there is no one in the world who doesn't hate his guts, and you have a beautiful contrast that has the ability to turn into Tamlin slowly seeing that there is more to him that just his past actions and slowly started to rebuild himself, along with that his Court.

This is truly a beautiful idea, I absolutely adore fics that explore Tamlin learning to understand and heal himself. And having dad Tamlin fluff is always a bonus.

Thank you for the ask!! I really enjoyed this one!!

[bonsoir-tyrelliot]

I know I haven't posted in months but here is your periodic reminder that during Tyrell and Elliot's first meeting, Elliot's actions in order are:

--Willingly shake hands like it's not a big deal --Smile --Glance up and down Tyrell's body --Bite his lower lip --Stare while blinking a lot --Be impressed by Tyrell's tech knowledge --Also please note that at no point during this interaction with Tyrell did Elliot's internal monologue take over. He didn't even look away from Tyrell for the entire conversation. That is not normal Elliot behavior lbr.

And Elliot's actions just after meeting Tyrell were, in order:

--Contemplating his dream of making the world a better place for everyone. Why? This could be interpreted as Elliot recognizing the increased challenge involved in saving the world if it were run by people who know what they're doing like Tyrell, like he's recognizing a worthy opponent. My enemies to lovers heart enjoys this interpretation. --Going home and being overcome by a crying bout over how lonely he is, something that happens every few weeks or so but not every day; why today, Elliot? --Has grudging, drug-induced sex with Shayla. We see this man have sex a total of twice, and the other time is strategic. There is nothing on earth that can stop me from believing that Elliot was thinking about Tyrell's little waistcoat while he had sex with Shayla.

In addition, please recall that moments before Tyrell introduces himself by offering a hand to shake but not forcing it on Elliot, Ollie forced physical contact Elliot didn't want. The contrast is obvious.

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 13 – A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine

Okay, getting back into writing these reviews before I fall so far behind that catching up is just impossible. Memory is the first book this year that I’ve actually read before; I’m rereading as the first choice for a theoretical book club with some friends. Honestly quite enjoyed the experience, if only because trying to jot down some things to say when discussing it forced me to take it a little slower this time.

To get the technical details out of the way – the book won the Hugo, and did basically deserve it. The writing’s lovely and occasionally downright poetics, the two leads are both insanely compelling, and the court intrigue is appropriately convoluted and byzantine for what is obviously Constantinople IN SPACE. It’s just overall a joyous read.

So Martine’s clearly very fascinated by the experience of having your standards of aesthetics, and sophistication, and civilization defined by a culture which has never even bothered to notice your existence. The simultaneous rapture at being in the heart of the universe that you’ve read about your entire life, and deep alienation knowing you’ll never actually be a part of it. How ever most of the people trying to be friendly and compliment you don’t even notice how patronizing they’re being. And so on and etc. Mahit’s internal monologue does a really good job of selling the ambivalence of it, especially in the party scene.

The book does an excellent job of actually selling the palace district as a site of imperial grandeur, too, every building buried in symbolic aesthetics and ritual significance. But also just, like, actually impressive and grand to read about. All the contrasts between the oveflowing abundance in the city and life on Lsel are fascinating too – Martine makes really good use of the little worldbuilding quotes at the start of chapters to sell the difference. The one that really stuck in my head was a quote from a tourism

guide explaining all the myriad fine dining choices for tourists visiting the City followed directly by a Lseli agricultural report about how new hydrophonic techniques had increased rice yield sufficiently to support a whole hundred non-replacement births in the next generation (it helps that all the Teixicalaanli food legitimately sounds pretty amazing). Though the time where Mahit’s internal monologue short circuited over the idea of carrying a pregnancy to term in your own body – wasteful! Depriving the station of a necessary laborer for months and months when perfectly good artificial wombs are right there! So decadent – is a close second.

Martine is, as I understand it, a Byzantinist, and oh boy can you tell. The city’s a little bit Tenochtitlan in the aesthetics and the religion, but it really is overwhelmingly space Constantinople. The theoretically absolute emperor dealing with mobs in the streets willing and potentially able to acclaim a usurper, the constant risk of legions doing the same, the basic fact that there’s a vast empire which is viewed as nothing but an adjunct or extension of the capital city which is the entirety of all political life and the place everyone whose anyone needs to be, and so on.

In a way, the obvious Byzantine-ness of the Teixicalaanli makes them seem less imperialist than just imperial, at least from Mahit’s perspective. Which is to say, well, first of all that ‘empire’ has far too many meanings and distinguishing them is hard, but the Teixicalaanli don’t expand like the British or French, in constant competition over captive markets and strategic locations, they don’t feel some glorious burden of manifest destination or a mission civilisatrice that requires universal dominion. They already are the universe, or at least everything worthwhile in it, they go to war like medieval kings or Roman princeps – to win glorious victories and so show the empire they have the right to rule it.

The relation between Lsel and Teixicalaan – well, if suffers from the standard space opera lack of scale, first of all. The stationers number in the tens of thousands – the empire must be in the hundreds of billions, minimum. ‘Realistically’ Six Directions would never have found out about the imago device because relations with them would have been handled by some mid-ranking provincial governor, only showing up in travelogues and fanciful ethnographies. But leaving that aside, Teixicalaanli myopia also means that the cultural imperialism that the book’s so fascinated by is oddly...blameless? Teixicalaan presumably has brutal campaigns dedicated to stamping out native cultures and integrating them into the empire, but there’s hardly one directed at Lsel. The general sense you get is one of vaguely tragic inevitability – that the mismatch in size and wealth is such that of course any sort of even slightly free exchange of media and ideas will lead to Stationer culture being overwhelmed. Makes me think about arguments around CanCon regulations.

(The whole Roman, medieval feel of the empire means it all kind of calls to mind various Germanic elites actively reaching for Roman iconography and institutions to legitimize themselves as much as anything, though of course that’s not really right.)

The book’s politics are, I think, a bit limited by the degree it’s laser-focused on the very uppermost tip of imperial society – the book seems to know this too, given the thirty page digression into cyberpunk two thirds of the way through (speaking of which, I absolutely adore the fact that the elegant, ritually harmonious and utterly aesthetic architecture lasts about three metro stops away from the palace before everything starts turning into economical concrete blocks). Which isn’t really a knock on the book, but I do think some of the praise of it does get a bit overblown; there’s a limit to how much insight you can really have on imperialism when you’re so focused on the stories an empire tells about itself in its most rarified and luxurious heart.

In much the same way there’s something very, I don’t know, ‘written in America in the late 2010s’ about the political imagination the book allows itself. There are people who don’t want the world to be the world, and maybe they can help a bit, but the actual players in the game of thrones are corrupt oligarchs and populist warmongers, you know?

All that said, the book sure does portray a city that views itself as synonymous with civilization. I only realized there was a Teixicalaanli word for foreigner that wasn’t ‘barbarian’ when one of the probably-terrorists made a point of using it during the whole cyberpunk interlude. Which retroactively makes, like, every single other Teixicalaanli character in the book waaaaay more of an asshole. (fanfic thought - Teixicalaanli attempts to talk even vaguely respectfully to/about foreigners as analogous to people trying to be gender neutral or talk about nonbinary people in really strongly genedered languages, right down to the awkward neologisms that the ‘average citizens’ rolls their eyes at. What’s the Teixicalaanli term for ‘the woke plague.’?)

Also – not really a better place to put this in, but something I really do like about the worldbuilding is that no one has anything like the same ideas of what constitutes political legitimacy as the contemporary liberal default? Lsel is a corporatist state, where political power is divided between what are basically guilds who seem to have wide remit to make policy within their jurisdiction, with only one seat on the council seeming to have any sort of election. And Teixicalaan is, of course, a bureacratic-verging-on-stratocratic monarchy, with a strong sense of popular involvement in government, but through demonstrations and rioting instead of any formal process. It’s enjoyable that neither place is actually, like, familiar.

The motor of the book’s plot is byzantine (or Byzantine, I suppose) court intrigue, and as someone who loves polite conversations and poetic allusions followed directly by assassination attempts, I adored it. That said, I’m going to be a slob demanding everything be hand fed to me for a minute and saying that it all got positively opaque by the end. Which is, I suppose, entirely realistic, given Mahit’s position and role in everything, but still I wanted an Agathe Christie drawing room denouncement so bad. Was Ten Pearl actively backing the coup? If not, what was up with the Sunlit? And the Cityshocks? Why was the Information Ministry so politically passive and uninvolved in a literal coup attempt? How was Eight Loop involved in the whole final resolution, given it was her people keeping the emperor safe but it was Nineteen Adze who was with him on camera? All these questions and more, unanswered and, probably, irrelevant! But like, inquiring minds want to know.

Though speaking of the coup, I really did absolutely adore how, like,incompetent and amateurish both coup attempts were? Which seems like it would be a plot hole, but actually it’s probably the strongest argument the book can make for Six Direction’s immortality plan – the empire has been peaceful for so long no one remembers how to do a coup.

Anyway, yes! Extremely good book, Mahit and Seagrass are absolutely great protagonists. Not at all sorry I’m peer pressuring people into reading it.

[greycappedjester]

Doing my kinda annual rewatch of Haikyuu. Just finished season 1. Some thoughts:

-i love so much that you have all these characters doing some dramatic soliloquy about volleyball and other background characters will just be normal about it. Love the contrast. Bonus points to the game with the neighborhood association where they flat out mock the dramatics to their face

-Those first year junior high kids Hinata conned into joining the first episode gotta be vaguely scarred by that game. They just joined for a good time and their captain is flat out running for the ball so hard he slams head first into a wall before giving terrifying one-liners. They then maybe see him give tear streaked declarations of rivalry with the opponent. They gotta have gone home after that, been asked how the game went, and just gone "ummmm?!?!"

-I miss Bokuto and Yachi

-we really sleep on that dialogue in one of the earlier episodes where Hinata is talking about volleyball and Kageyama is internally repeating basically every ending word and Hinata goes "like gwah" and Kageyama goes "gwah" in the most serious melodramatic way ever. Hilarious. 10 out of 10. Also love, at another time, Hinata telling Suga he practiced in tons of places like hallways and an eavesdropping Kageyama is like "hallways". He chose the craziest things for internal monologue

-They've grown so much 😢

-Season 1 Asahi hair is best Asahi hair

-I do really love that the only team to beat Karasuno at an official match when both teams are at 100% (ie no one collapses on ground mid-game) is Aoba Johsai. Yeah Oikawa never got to go to nationals but he is the only captain to be shown officially winning against the team with both teams at their (at the time) best.

-I miss the later seasons where everyone pretty much knows to be wary of Hinata but I do love the absolute shock of going from "who's that grade schooler with the team" to "Oh shit!". Also kiss the flightless crow imagery that was so satisfying to overcome

-Tsuki is such an asshole. Love him.

[coraniaid]

Kendra shows up for the first time in What's My Line? and delivers several speeches about her past and her training to (maybe!) one day become a Slayer that boil down to:

"I don't really remember my parents except as pictures I've been shown, but I do know [somehow?] that they took slaying really seriously and they sent me to be trained as a Potential Slayer when I was very young. I know that if you want to be a good Slayer it's important not to be distracted by things like boys or friends or school or family, and I really want to be a good Slayer. And I know that a Slayer has to work in secret, and she musn't tell anybody else about vampires or being a Slayer (but again, my parents -- yeah, the ones I'm not allowed to talk to -- they really knew I was a Potential Slayer and they definitely approved of me being raised by my Watcher and never seeing them again ... No, I don't know their last names). You shouldn't feel sorry for me, though: I definitely don't feel sad or angry about this at all. My Watcher -- he's pretty much the only person I'm allowed to talk to, I guess -- he says that emotions are a weakness. I am a good Slayer. I definitely don't feel sad at all."

If you take Kendra seriously as a character for even a second, I'm not sure how you can hear all that and not think that something suspicious is going on. I'm not saying the Council had Kendra abducted or had her parents killed -- it doesn't seem quite their style -- but ... if her parents or her extended family (her "people", as the show puts it) know about Slaying and take it very seriously, why would the Council want them to send their daughter somewhere away from them where she isn't allowed to talk to anybody apart from her Watcher about being a Slayer? Was she going to be "distracted" by being brought up by people who were definitely 100% in favour of her being a Slayer? What real evidence does Kendra have that her Watcher can be trusted about anything he tells her about her parents? Why does this sound like the internal monologue of a character in the first third of a horror novel who doesn't quite yet realize they've been raised by a cult?

And so, you might think, this is where Kendra's arc is going to go. Next season is, after all, all about Buffy losing confidence in her own Watcher and the system of Watchers in general. Maybe Kendra will start to suspect she's been lied to. Maybe she'll try to track down her parents. Maybe they've been looking for her all this time; maybe they died in an accident and the Council decided it would be simpler to train Kendra as a Slayer if she didn't have anything else in her life to "distract" her. Maybe this is another Ampata situation, and Kendra's family really did give her up, and when she has some space away from her Watcher to think about it she realizes she's pretty angry about that. Maybe she'll go through the Cruciamentum, and lose her powers for a bit, and ask herself what would have happened to her if she'd waited and trained and gotten older and never been Called as a Slayer at all.

But instead the show means all this to be taken entirely at face value. Everything Kendra says is just supposed to stand in contrast with Buffy's own experience of becoming a Slayer, even though you can't really just reverse "Buffy's parents don't know anything about Slaying" and "Buffy lives with her Mom and has to try to hide her patrolling activites from her" and "Buffy never knew anything about the supernatural or vampire slayers until she was told she was one" and "Buffy still tries to go to school and socialize and date and have as much of a normal life as she can" and "Buffy isn't always perfect at keeping her Slaying secret from the people in her life" and hope to create anything coherent.

The next time we see or hear about Kendra it's literally just for about fifteen minutes so she can be killed off and written out of the show forever. And then pretty much nobody ever talks about her again (except for a brief mention the episode after she dies and a final fleeting reference early the next season. And then in Season 7 we meet Kennedy, the only other Potential with any real screen time who the Council seem to have trained from a young age, who definitely does remember her family and tells Willow about growing up as a relatively normal (if slightly spoiled) child and doesn't seem to have gone through anything like this.

[jojoseames]

How did you come up with the story of The Makeshift Man? Also, Elvis is one of my favorite buns of all time right next to Fiver from Watership Down. Did Watership Down have any influence on the creation of Elvis?

Aaaaaah, you've made my day!

So, I'd started doing webcomics when I was in high school. And like most teens just starting out in the artform, I wasn't sure what kind of a cartoonist I really was, or rather, what kind of cartoonist I wanted to be. I was doing this long-form black-and-white screwball romantic comedy thing, right? And after a few years, I just hated it. I didn't like working in black and white for that project when I was thinking of all the scenes in full color. I didn't like character designs that I now had to just live with. I didn't like how tired the tropes I was playing with felt. I just hated working on it, and kept not drawing my comic because I'd discovered a love of painting, and kept just wanting to do that instead.

So, after wrestling for a long while with the guilt of disappointing the few very kind readers I had, I gave myself permission to abandon that book. And start a new project.

This new comic was one I was going to design from the ground up with all my own preferences at the forefront. I was going to do it in color, and I was going to paint it in watercolor because it turns out that that's my favorite medium to work in. I wanted to do something supernatural, and something that was maybe a noir, maybe a western. Something moody, in contrast to the screwball comedy I'd been doing for so long.

My only goal was to do a short story, a single issue. And if I liked it, I could then do a follow-up. I hit on the notion that if I ended up liking it enough to do multiple issues, then I could do it as a series of short stories. That would give me the freedom to do the series for as long as I wanted to, or I could wrap it up and conclude it fairly easily at any point.

So I developed from there. I was going to do a series of stories about a nameless stranger who rolls into town in different places. That would mean every issue could be in a different location, with a different color palette, and I could change genres every issue as well, to keep myself from getting bored. I made the character immortal, too, which served the double purpose of letting me do stories in different time periods as well as locations, and would let me just absolutely put this guy through the wringer. (My love of Deadpool comics was part of my inspiration for this latter point.) This is all to make it as fun and interesting for myself as possible. Letting this project be really self-indulgent.

I gave myself really only two limitations:

No cartoon devices. No speed lines, no impact bursts, no stars or birdies circling the head after an injury. All dynamism would have to be achieved through basic positioning. Every panel would have to be like a photograph. (Inspiration for this technique came from Dave Gibbons' work on "Watchmen".) This was done to give the book a subliminal sense that it's in a grounded, realistic world, so that when weird things started happening, they would feel more like they stood out as unnatural and surprising within the context of the story.

No ghost stories. If my main character is immortal, then I wanna make him wrestle with that, in a way that death is not portrayed as a different form of being present in the world, but exists as a full removal of a person from the world, and that that is a thing that eludes my protagonist.

So, yeah, the project came about. And I designed a main character who I would personally never get tired of drawing.

I discovered after the first issue that I didn't like giving him an internal monologue in caption boxes, though. And that I'd prefer a storytelling format where exposition is delivered through dialogue and environment. I needed my guy to have someone to talk to. I needed a Robin to his Batman. So I decided to give him a sidekick who would exist in contrast to him, all chipper, friendly outgoingness and soft shapes in relief to his sullen introversion and sharp edges.

And I love bunnies. They're my favorite animal. I had several pet rabbits when I was a child, and I love them so. Elvis is based especially on my childhood pet, Patch, who was a tiny little cross-breed Netherland dwarf and Dutch rabbit with a feisty personality. So this is another character I'd never get tired of drawing.

Hence, Elvis.

And yes, Richard Adams' "Watership Down" was absolutely an influence! It's one of my all-time favorite books, and I've never counted, but it's certainly the single novel I've read the most times. The idea that there are all these different societies in the world that coexist, each with their unique perspectives, priorities, histories, and senses of logic...That's very much a theme I'm going for in my own book, and a lot of that concept was sparked by "Watership Down".

[wildflowerteas]

hella got through chapter 6 everyone cheer!

i don't know how to respond to this coherently so i'm just going to scroll down and let the word vomit happen:

the choice of emoji reacts to some of these . . . i'm surprised hella hasn't killed you guys. keeping gin away from this mess is the last thing on my mind, unfortunately *stares at the BEAST tag*

ARRGHHHFGHHH IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE SSKK. they're such a breath of fresh air, and writing them comes so easily to me. while i like writing skk ( fucked up as they are--even at this point in the story ) and the fast-paced nature of their relationship, this is romance writing work coming from the guy whose only other fic had a first kiss at uhhh...160k words.

yesenina did serve too hard. i imagine her as similair to the others, but with a Rita Hayworth-like air of ambition about her, and that's a serve. and it's what gets her killed.

Chuuya Yuan history coming in SOON. actually. Next chapter. seeing hella lose it over Chuuya's internal monologue here has been absolutely hilarious and kind of rewarding. I Knew All That because I'm the author ( duh ) so i never really grasped how strange the shift to Chuuya's thoughts about the relationship would be. I mean there's snippets of it, like the diner scene, but you're right, it's fanfic and so that is a lot easier to sweep under the rug.

ACAB. I considered putting a line from Doc Riedenschneider in The Asphalt Jungle ( 1950 ) "Experience has taught me to never trust a policeman. Just when you think one's alright, he turns legit." in a divider chapter between part I and part II, but I thought was too on the nose following 7 ( and a bit pretentious considering this is just ao3 fanfic and not a published work or anything ) so i grabbed myself by the metaphorical monkey backpack and didn't. Mafia Nepo Baby 😭 I love Hella HUGE WIN FOR ME. I was so nervous because i needed to balance Chuuya being observant but also quite literally *out of the loop.* He's not from the same world as Dazai--he's not involved with the murders or the politics or the mess going on yet. He comes across as oblivious at times because Dazai's POV is purposefully designed to make you see him that way. Dazai's so sure he's in control of what Chuuya knows that he doesn't realize he might have met his match.

ZSKK are uhm. yeah. all im gonna say there.

the "PARDON." IM CACKLING

argh. the switch up with this chapter...why the hell am i getting nostalgic for something i wrote less than two months ago ( ican't believe i've been grinding through this fic so fast jesus ).

i love unhealthy dynamics, truly. this fic was really a test to see if i could write soukoku making each other worse. which is a pretty stark contrast to my other stuff.

HELLA. OH MY GOD. that bit about their careers . . . i can't believe she noticed that. Chuuya started the fic genuinely ambitious, wanting the spotlight, wanting to defy expectations set upon him by his looks, his race, and his past. Dazai's a cop, sworn to uphold the law, but he doesn't feel like a good person. He can't ( interlude chapter . . . stares out the window ), but he can use everything about who he is to give Chuuya the life he wants. like a guardian ange--*gets taken out by a sniper chapter 8 style* Their original goals aren't gone, per se, they've simply been reoriented.

can't wait for chapter 7

i know it'll make Hella want to hunt me down for sport, so i'll sleep with both eyes open for the forseeable future.

[babacontainsmultitudes]

always always thinking about your post that was like “normal has a very high threshold for being loved that is nearly impossible to meet and he will do *anything* to feel validated” and then today in the discord during the part where willy reveals it could’ve been either normal or scary, will said “willy fucked up normal would burn the entire world down for the tiniest crumb of validation” and just. screaming screaming forever about this boy’s inability to ever feel loved enough, he is every webweaving post about always devouring and never feeling full from love, this boy is RAVENOUS and it’s hard to understand how the oak good-boy morality can even supersede that, he has every trait imaginable to become a villain and it feels like the only thing preventing that is the desire to be good, bc tbh I don’t think he wants to be good more than he wants to be loved

SORRY FOR TAKING ALMOST TWO FUCKING WEEKS TO ANSWER THIS ANON!

Eheh, firstly *thank you* because this message is very sweet and made me extremely happy. The post you’re talking about took a good while to write and came with a lot of anxiety so it’s very nice to hear that you’ve kept fragments of it with you, I really do appreciate that!!! 💜

I’d debated for a bit on answering this privately to be honest with you, as not every fire I’ve sparked is one whose flames I wish to fan, so to speak, but everything you wrote is just so on-point and well-articulated that I couldn’t resist. Otherwise. *Ahem*. I know it's very very silly to respond to a response about an essay with what is essentially another essay, but you see, in thinking of how to answer your message, I got a little caught amongst many other things that have been on my mind... And I've seen some takes that have annoyed me for one reason or another and couldn't decide how to address those and. Well. Ultimately I decided that the stuff I wanted to talk about was connected *enough* to the stuff brought up in your message (as well as in my original post) that I could put it all together, soooooooo if you'll entertain me rambling once more~

Let's start by saying that, I recently saw a take going around stating that “Scary’s internal issues caused her external issues while Normal’s external issues caused his internal issues” (among a number of other statements that I frankly found pretty questionable), and I must say, for reasons that I hope to explain, I disagree with this assertion on both accounts!

In Scary’s case, this statement completely erases and undermines the trauma of her dad walking out, and what that does not only to her confidence and sense of self-worth, but to her relationship with her mother as well. And the degree of the impact of this external trauma on her internal view towards and treatment of herself is clear as day just by looking at the stark contrast between Terri and Scary. Scary (Terri) is someone who once had confidence in herself and could find validation and motivation internally, most recently evidenced by Terri's words of encouragement to Scary whilst under beacon of hope:

But then her dad leaves, and things get harder at home, and Scary starts to fight with her mom (her mom who she once called her best friend!!!), and she starts to feel worthless and unlovable- something that only gets worse with time as Willy alienates her from the rest of the group, case in point with this revealing exchange:  

No one’s told her they’re proud of her in a long time (sound familiar??),

her teachers at school shut her down when she tries to speak her mind or otherwise dismiss her behavior as “acting out” seemingly without any sort of intervention or attempt to actually check in with her,

[the above teen fact is from episode 31]

Only then, in response to her diminished sense of self-worth does she begin to cut herself off from the rest of the world and from her former self, most importantly quitting soccer (which we know matters a lot to her!),

and those things leave her even more vulnerable and supportless and ashamed. Not to mention all the mixed emotions she must feel when Terry walks into the picture, between actually liking him but not being able to see his love as genuine due to her relationship with her bio dad and all the frustration and shame she must feel as a result.

This is not to claim that Scary’s internal struggles do not inform a lot of what happens to her and the people around her over the run of the season- of course they do! (In fact some of the later things mentioned above are examples of that- I guess I got a bit carried away). But Scary’s major internal struggles that affect her throughout the course of the adventure are preceded by a slew of important external events that negatively affect her psyche and are in many cases out of her control. Scary’s internal struggles did not originate in a vacuum, and I absolutely would not say that they “caused” the bulk of what she has been through.

Unlike Scary, Norm’s excessive dependency on external validation to feel like he’s worth anything begins when he is very young. [Emphasis on “excessive” here, since obviously everyone requires validation from others to some degree, the point being just that this trait is so very pronounced in Normal and, as I argued a bit in the post anon is referring to, usually the most important factor informing his courses of action, superseding (but not implying the absence of) any desire to be good and help those around him. Will’s statement (the one which anon quotes) seems to corroborate this.] We know that things go so far back from Sparrow’s account in episode 17:

It’s important that this is about Normal’s kindergarten experiences too, because it tells us that Normal’s predominant internal issues go back farther than this and hence were not caused in and of themselves by his peers- instead being perhaps more fundamental to who he is as a person.

This is not to say that external events do not exacerbate the state of Normal’s psyche. In his youth most notably, we can infer that he interpreted Hero’s treatment (which of course he did not understand at the time to be her training) as favoritism, and I think it’s pretty clear by this point that his resentment of her is tied to the degradation of self-esteem that he experienced as a result.

Then of course there is the dance. Sparrow’s words to Normal during the dance obviously consist of a very pivotal moment for Norm within the context of the season, but I think it’s important to remember and not erase the fact that Normal’s internal issues with validation do not begin at the dance, as established in the kindergarten case but also further exemplified by Norm’s primary motive in becoming the school’s mascot in the first place (to get everybody to like him). I think it’s important to remember this in part since it informs so much of Normal’s reaction to what his father has to say, immediately afterwards but also throughout the whole rest of the season. No kid wants to hear that their parent isn’t proud of them, but the severity of the response to this sort of statement is going to vary drastically depending on the person, and in Norm’s case, given his natural disposition, it’s devastating. [and I swear there’s a teen talk moment where Will says basically this but I can’t find it for the life of me rn damn it lol maybe I’ll edit in the clip later if I do]

Of course in this specific case, one can still mostly say that the problem stems from outside of Normal, and that his preexisting issues exacerbate his response but are definitely not the cause of it. Outside of this instance, however, this is not always true! In fact, Normal’s excessive dependency on external validation and related rejection sensitivity (negatively) inform a large amount of his interactions with those around him, particularly Lincoln and Taylor (imagine me underlining “Taylor” several times as I say this). Truthfully that’s a whole ramble on its own, but with respect to more recent events, I have to admit that I was genuinely quite irked to find a lot of people blaming Taylor and Lincoln for Norm’s response to their uh. mech shenanigans in episode 37, choosing to frame this as an act of moral failing or even malice on their part, rather than a reflection of Normal’s own issues and room for growth. Lincoln and Taylor were simply focused on the mission at hand, and there was no good reason realistically speaking to have expected them to be aware of Normal’s emotional state at that point in time (or in general, to be aware of the jealousy their bonding moments evoke within Norm- particularly when Normal consistently fails to communicate and address those emotions with them in a manner that is direct and not passive-aggressive). Lincoln in particular is very clearly stated as not even having fun in that moment, very understandably being focused instead on the fact that his friend Scary is around his father, who he just witnessed, you know, murder someone. This is not an instance of the world going against Norm for no good reason other than to put him through it, this is a very clear example of Normal’s internal issues affecting the way he perceives external events in a manner that is not actually very reflective of the reality of the situation, and which of course feeds in further to his cycle of self-loathing (and I won’t go into it here since I sort of did in the post anon is responding to- but Normal’s negative reaction to Lincoln breaking the pick to gain Scary’s trust is another important example of this [tbh all the more so now coupled with the hypocrisy of how he handles the anchor in Goofs but that’s a tangent]). As aforementioned, Norm also struggles a good chunk of the time to actually explain his feelings in a manner that is direct and does not rely on blaming others for not picking up on his dejection, as exemplified in how this discussion goes with Lincoln in the most recent episode:

The treatment from fandom of this whole instance being reflective of a reoccurring issue I tend to have with a large chunk of the fandom, wherein the collective memory of canon tends towards getting warped to account for Norm’s mental state. Sometimes that’s hailing him as some morally-perfect, emotional reincarnate of Henry (as though the pride layer didn’t happen, as though Goofs didn’t happen, as though all of Norm’s relationship with Taylor isn’t what it is- …I feel like I should stop implying stuff about the significance Taylor and Norm’s relationship and not elaborating but it really is an essay in and of itself LOL), other times it’s just downright turning everyone around Normal into a villain, a persistent phenomenon which I sort of illustrated in the above example but also touched upon in an earlier essay (arguing that despite the fandom’s quick jump to villainize him- Lincoln breaking the guitar pick would prove to be an act of love). Sparrow also takes a good brunt of the damage from this. Sparrow saying he’s not proud of Normal gets turned into Sparrow not loving Normal (despite an abundance of proof in canon to the contrary), his apology for what he said and the support he shows for Norm in light of his alternative plan on dealing with the Doodler are completely ignored by most of the fandom, as are any other demonstrations of emotional availability and shows of growth that he displays throughout the course of the season, and the true motives behind Sparrow’s insistence on Normal living a “normal” life- to protect him from the childhood that he but also that Hero had to undergo- is somehow framed as Sparrow actually holding some kind of favoritism for Hero. It’s as though there is a complete inability on a larger scale within the fandom to see Sparrow as separate character outside of the filter of Norm’s emotions, and the other teens (including Hermie) get a similar if less pronounced treatment.

[Actually, I would argue that to some degree all of the kiddads except Terry (and Lark since he’s not officially a dad) tend to be perceived and criticized predominantly through the noise of their respective child’s emotions/behavior. In Grant’s case, Lincoln 1. spends a good part of the earlier half of the season asserting that his dads are the best dads in the world despite everything going on and 2. has a very unfortunate tendency to compartmentalize and push down his negative emotions as much as possible- in typical Wilson fashion- so the complexity and severity of Lincoln’s issues with his dad generally go understated, and only now that Lincoln has begun to be more vocal and upfront about his issues has some of Grant’s parenting finally begun to come under fire, and even then mostly only his more recent transgressions. In Taylor’s case, Taylor’s emotional security/stability and general fondness for his dad mean that Nicky is being hailed by many people as “the best dad” where in fact Nicky- while certainly helping the teens out in many ways and perhaps even acting as a friend to them- has done just about jack shit for Taylor as a *father*, and really if Taylor has anyone to thank for being as well-adjusted as he is now, it’s definitely his mom! But I digress.]

Normal and Scary are very similar, but the way fandom treats them is very different. People (mostly) seem to be able to acknowledge that Scary, in spite of her mistakes and flaws, is a scared, tired kid with a good heart who is capable and deserving of love. In Normal’s case, I just can’t seem to shake the impression that the fandom (in general) would rather strip Norm of all the things that make his character complex, and nuanced, and flawed, reducing him to an utterly uninteresting husk of a character before depicting him as anything other than a perfect goody-two-shoes who has never hurt anybody in his entire life or daring to acknowledge the fact that “Normal has been through a lot, is hurt, and deserves a good support system and emotional validation” and “Normal can at many times be his own worst enemy, sometimes makes mistakes that affect those around him, and has room to grow emotionally” are notions that can and should coexist. Or at least, that's my two cents on the matter.

[ink-dusted-dreams]

The original Japanese manga of Rurouni Kenshin reveals a significant distinction in Kenshin and Tomoe's relationship, a detail overlooked in the English translation

As mentioned in several of my previous posts, I believe that translating from Japanese to English often results in the loss of nuances specific to Japanese. The timeline of Kenshin falling in love with Tomoe is not as evident when reading the Manga in English, but it becomes quite apparent in Japanese. Therefore, in this post, I will explore some aspects lost in translation.

It's important to note that the challenge in understanding Kenshin and Tomoe's feelings arises from their reserved characters, contrasting with more expressive characters like Kaoru, Megumi, Sano, Yahiko, Misao, etc. Kenshin and Tomoe, being extremely reserved, disclose very little about themselves. Tomoe, in particular, is even more reserved than Kenshin, who, despite his reserved nature, is more expressive about his feelings, at least to Tomoe.

The scene I aim to decipher today is the one where Kenshin states that Tomoe is the only person he would never kill, even if she had a katana against him.

Towards the end of the scene, both characters blush. While it does seem special when Kenshin makes that statement, essentially expressing that she is special to him by being the only one he would never kill, the weight of this sentiment is significantly different when read in Japanese.

In the preceding scene, we catch one of the exceptionally rare glimpses into Tomoe's emotions. In her internal monologue, she reflects on Katsura's words regarding the beliefs of Ishin Shishi. Her monologue goes like this,

…新時代のためあえて狂うことも厭わない正義…

Translation: Justice where one dares to go mad for the sake of a new era

その狂の正義の先鋒

Translation: The vanguard of that justice of madness

でも…こうして寝顔だけ見てると…

Translation: But.. when I look at his sleeping face like this...

まだまだ…元服前の少年なのに…

Translation: He is still... just a young boy who has not had his Genpuku yet...

Tomoe's internal monologue reveals that, up to this moment, she perceives Kenshin not as a man but as a child.

In the aforementioned scene, he experiences a complete breakdown - unable to stand up, breathing heavily, and sweating profusely, yet he tells Tomoe to leave. He says,

市井の人は斬らないと大口叩いたところで今の俺はこの有り様…

Translation: Even though I talked big saying I don't kill ordinary citizens... look at me now...

もう出て行ってくれでないと俺はいずれ本当に君を…

Translation: Please leave already

If you don't, someday I'll really... you...

However, his panic is not stemming from the fact that he mistakenly drew his sword on someone. Instead, it arises from the deep feelings he harbors for her, a point made evident in the manga. The manga subtly conveys his emotions through the use of Yobisute (呼び捨て), a significant gesture. For those familiar with Japanese anime, it's known that addressing someone often involves adding suffixes such as -san, -kun, -chan, and so on.

Kenshin consistently employs honorifics when conversing with women. Even in his childhood, he referred to the girls he traveled with using -san. When initially speaking to Tomoe, he addressed her as "Tomoe-san" and utilized "Anata" as a pronoun, a clear indicator of respect. This choice becomes even more apparent as Tomoe is older than him. However, in this particular scene, he opts for "君" (kimi), a pronoun not paired with the -san suffix. He completely drops honorifics.

This is a significant development because many Japanese readers recognize Kaoru's importance to Kenshin when he omits the honorific and calls her "Kaoru" once. In romance mangas, the moment when characters drop honorifics is considered very special.

In the live-action adaptation, Kenshin continues to use "Anata" at this point, switching to "Kimi" only after they are married. In the manga, Kenshin's way of addressing her suggests a sense of possessiveness, even when she remains emotionally distant.

In the scene described above, Tomoe places her shawl on Kenshin, and his heavy breathing ceases. She tells him,

もうしばらくここに居させて頂きます

Translation: I'll be here for a while longer

今のあなたには狂気を押さえる鞘が必要ですから…

Translation: You need a sheath to suppress your madness right now...

If you observe, she isn't seeking his permission. She's simply stating that she will be with him for an indefinite period. She isn't explicitly expressing a desire; she's making a declaration. She can only do this with someone who, after telling her to go out, she knows didn't mean it and will allow her to be with him. So, I suppose she has a strong awareness of his feelings (which is quite evident, given the Yobisute).

In the above scene, he confesses that she holds a special place in his heart, expressing it verbally. Kenshin avoids direct eye contact, showing a slight blush. Tomoe also blushes slightly, marking the moment when she ceases to see him merely as a boy and begins to perceive him as a man. He says,

ずっと前の問いの答えー…

Translation: The answer to the question from a long time...

君が刀を手にしたら斬るか否か…

Translation: Whether I'd kill you or not if you picked up a Katana...

答えは「斬らない」

Translation: The answer is "Won't kill"

おれは斬らない

Translation: I won't kill

どんなコトがあろうと君だけは絶対に斬ったりしない…

Translation: No matter what happens, you are the only one, I'll never kill...

君だけは…

Translation: Only you...

絶対に…

Translation: Never...

When reading the English translations, the entire Yobisute is not discussed because both "Anata" and "Kimi" are translated as "You." However, in Japanese culture, this is a significant matter, indicating the distance between two individuals. The impact would not have been as profound if Tomoe were much younger than Kenshin. However, precisely because Tomoe is older than Kenshin, when he drops the honorifics, his feelings become completely evident.

[niko-sasaki-dbd]

Music anon back with more song recommendations! None of these are as good of a match as SFDD, unfortunately.

Charles: PIRATE RADIO* by Jean Dawson ("I'm on the edge of my coffin / With a smile and some hope")

Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod by The Mountain Goats ("And then I'm awake and I'm guarding my face / Hoping you don't break my stereo")

Crystal: Too Much Too Soon by Green Day ("She packs her bags and says goodbye and bon voyage / Farewell I'll see you in hell I hope you rest in pieces")

Niko: Be Kind by Pixie and the Partygrass Boys ("I know times are scary / I know times are hard / Reach out your hand, love / I will protect your heart")

Gosh, love to receive an ask from you again! 🩷 You're going to be Stereo Ghost 👻🎧 from now on.

Just the first line made me tear up. It's not fair. I love this song, the contrast between the lyrics and the melody is beautiful, and it breaks my heart a little, but it's still awesome ♡ I wrote something about Charles looking at his own coffin and now that is linked to this song permanently.

The lyrics made me curious, and I read some of the history behind this song on genius and I guess now I understand why the lyrics express a similar experience and a hope for freedom, as the one I imagine Charles had when he was alive (Also, I know how it is to laugh about something that happened to you, in front of people that doesn't find it funny).

Damn, isn't this my old friend? I almost forgot I was fond of this album when I was 16. Such an incredible rec! I definitely can see a lot of Crystal's internal monologue expressed in the lyrics, and also, a lot about the David situation, and her past, 10/10.

This song has such a cute vibe, or maybe I just find it familiar, but still, I love it. I had to rely on my listening skills to understand the lyrics (I can't find them), but it really reminds me of something warm, autumn vibes? I don't know if there's a way a song can be described like that, but the point is I really really love it :')

Thank you so much for all the recs!

DBDA PLAYLISTS

[variousqueerthings]

@autistic-puffin Alright, one episode left of season 1 [insert screaming]

So, some of my favourite things about nine:

the way they're clearly relearning how to interact with any kind of person, only really good at conversation at the beginning if there's danger

doctor internal monologue: "what would be the best thing to show rose - a woman I've just met - to make her think I'm so cool? I know, I'll show her her planet exploding!"

the fact that they're really so fragile and learning to be again and scared of rose leaving them on the one hand, but on the other is so scared of getting too close (the "domestics") and opening up for fear of what will happen (and what happens... well, we know...)

but also will have a whole trauma response the second time they ever met ("we're falling through time, you and me, and if we let go...")

in retrospect with the war doctor, the way they interact with the dalek in the last sequence of that first episode almost feels like they can't access those memories, like there's that "version" of them locked in some part that could have been re-released if not for rose, but what's left is these half-spoken sentences that just trail off and into "oh rose. they're all dead." and that sense is there anyway, but as a metaphor with the later war doctor reveal, that performance hurts all the more

the way they smile when they say "fantastic" is like a new person being revealed

nine knew from early on in the episode "father's day" that the way to save everyone was for rose's dad to sacrifice himself, and never even had it as a consideration, never mentioned it to anyone, even said they had no idea what to do (until the tardis key), even though that was an option

"It's brilliant! I'm not sure if it's Marxism in action or a West End musical."

(in reference to wwii) "Beat the Germans, save the world - don't forget the welfare state!"

this is reading into it, because I fully didn't realise all those dancing references in empty child/doctor dances were meant to be sexual (the bits about jack, sure, but all of them? and it doesn't even make sense, anyway) point being, I always read it as a way of showing the doctor coming back into themself, learning to hope and have fun and not always worry about the other shoe dropping. joie de vivre as it were. so I love the bit at the end where nine says they can dance and I will continue to read it as I always have done

nine's very direct way of inspiring people and seeing people once they've started coming out of their shell -- the way they talk to the bride-and-groom-to-be in father's day, to cathica in the long game, to jabe, to gwenyth, to harriet jones, to nancy, to lynda with a y (also so often it's women in RTD's stories). the journey nine goes on is so vast, from rebuffing rose several times in the first episode and thinking the worst of people, to remembering why people are amazing and inspiring better versions of them

I'm always somehow just. sad. and touched. by the way nine talks about the pig that was experimented on and then shot. they were so upset by the callousness of it. nine cares about peoples names as well. they're consciously making a point of life and death mattering

by contrast the conversation with blon in "boom town" about being a killer. nine is doing better, consciously. nine has seen violence on a massive scale and is choosing not to perpetuate that and is learning (also in contrast to "dalek")

by the time "lynda with a y" came into the picture it was like they were ready for a whole family -- rose, jack, the more the merrier

and coming up I know in the last episode: "Coward or killer?" "Coward." and "you were fantastic, you know that. absolutely fantastic. and you know what? so was I."

generally nine was so imbued with a sense of vulnerability that's begging to be seen and coming from being so raw and hurt and closed to the beauty of living because of the violence they've experienced, and then relearning it and re-embracing the classic ethos of dw, as well as that fair play for all idealism that feels quite inspired in some ways by eccleston's own socialism and rtd's ideals (did enjoy the "no third term for thatcher" socialist signposts to indicate the 80s, I feel like we need to bring that energy back into dw again)