#the eligible bachelors are like

[tavina-writes]

A Practical Discussion of Eligible MDZS Bachelors During the Second Life

So I keep seeing discussions floating around about like "why aren't any of these people married" and "are JC's standards too high?" and other assorted nonsense, so I have decided to put together a ranking of like "if a practical minded historical* woman wanted to get ahead politically with the LEAST amount of #suffering, what rankings would she give these guys." Because I've been really fond of @dangermousie's poll options, I'm calling this girl Potato.

*Historical fantasy more or less given that we assume that Potato is also a cultivator.

Jiang Cheng There are many reasons for this but 1) Jiang Cheng's in-laws consist entirely of (1) bratty nephew who doesn't even live at his house full time, 2) there are no other meddling in laws or sect elders given that Jiang Cheng is the only one! 3) he is reasonably good looking, well off, and has social status by this point in the story. Potato can probably win over a bratty nephew! Downsides include: if Potato doesn't like spicy foods oh dear, but honestly we don't know what Potato's spice tolerance is so it could still work out!

Nie Huaisang: Being married to NHS would be an exercise in perpetual embarrassment, and it's unclear if his budget line items ever since Da-ge died are any more detailed than "Summertime Sadness." There are worse people to marry, but why anyone (including Potato) would willingly choose to marry NHS for political benefit eludes me. He is ranked higher on this list than any Lan largely for the sake of "his mom was probably not in solitary confinement" and "there are likely no dietary restrictions present in his house." but the other downsides include "he's probably going to go INSANE" at some point but silver lining on that front is that he's really not a very good cultivator, so it probably won't be as bad as NMJ's insanity bender? Potato could rank him lower than any Lan options tbh.

Lan Xichen There are also many reasons why Mr. Zewu-jun is not an ideal marriage candidate for practical reasons but this largely has to do with his family. There's 33 favorite grandpas who seem to have opinions on the regular. The in-law trouble would suck tremendously. There's 5am wakeup calls and 9pm bedtimes and no meat or alcohol. There's like between 3000-4000 rules Potato will have to remember and actually follow! His mom spent her entire married life mysteriously in solitary confinement. #Yikes!

This seems like an unwise place to marry into. Potato could do better.

Lan Wangji See above except for the part where he doesn't even like Potato and only thinks about WWX all day.

Lan Qiren I am uncertain about Potato's investment in #HotDilfsInLocalArea but 3000-4000 rules and many of Zewu-jun's problems.

Jin Guangyao He's already married and he's never cheating on his incest marriage, and he has his ex's head in his bedroom closet. Also #Yikes. Potato could do better than this too.

Basically: Potato should either aim to marry Jiang Cheng or go to live as a hermit in the woods.

[wormsincoats]

fit fucking mc being involved in one of the most popular gay ships in the fandom will never not be funny to me

[justaz]

kagami who drops in and woos adrien agreste but has everyone turn their back on her for breaking up their beautiful adrienette (even tho they weren’t even dating and adrien showed little signs of being interested in marinette)

marinette who went out with chat noir once and pictures of the two of them circulated and almost the entirety of paris hating her guts for breaking up their beautiful ladynoir (even tho they weren’t even dating and ladybug showed little signs of being interested in chat noir)

marinette and kagami bonding over being demonized for liking a boy and the fact that misogyny won that day.

anyways. my point is. marigami. thank you. goodnight.

[fountainpenguin]

Origin of the Pixies

Fairly OddParents ~ (August 2016 - Ongoing)

"Talk of these things should be reserved for fathers and sons. I'm Head Pixie. I'm your aldra mór, but I'm no one's daddy."

Head Pixie backstory longfic

Drama & Angst (I hear there's fluff in here somewhere...)

First-person POV

Dead Dove

Summary

After being infected with Wolbachia pipientis - the real-life bacteria that causes insects to reproduce asexually - Fergus Whimsifinado soon finds himself a single father struggling to provide for 500+ genetically-identical offspring he never really wanted in the first place. Suddenly becoming the first member of a brand new species means complex politics to deal with, a Pixie World to build, a shipping company and a therapy business to manage, and a budding interspecies war to survive... ... All on top of raising children.

Not Rated; Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Read on FFN | Read on AO3

Chapter Recaps | Gen 2 Pixies Sheet

Cloudlands AU - Detailed warnings & other AU info

More Fairly OddParents 'fics

This work has a largely T tone. Borderline M for themes like 'queen bee' insect people fighting to the death, getting abducted by Cupid's family for study, being forced into a will o' the wisp's harem to ensure milk for newborn Sanderson, and general themes of non-human reproduction, child loss, and war.

Head Pixie-centric longfic with a focus on:

- Growing up with freckles in insect society, where you're typecast as a violent "queen bee" who'll stop at nothing to defend his hive. Set Daddy's fortune aside for wergild; you're gonna need it. - Accidental selkie wife addition (Please don't send her back to Mom; she needs this job) - Local party boy struggles to prioritize fatherhood above raves - Getting abducted by Cupid's hot grumpy mom, who's absolutely willing to push you to your limits if it means she can unravel your biology and show you off to all her friends - Raising little worker bees... I mean, drone pixies who regularly need their faces licked for pheromone exposure or they'll cry - Cloudlands' most eligible rich bachelor rejects hugs because he fears bee-instinct cuddle death attacks; more at 11 - Building a company up from nothing. Gotta start somewhere- Why not with cupcakes? (Maybe cute kids are good for something after all...) - Raising an heir you're biologically programmed to kill... It's fine- Sis is raising the spare - Why did we think adopting a cù sìth that can steal your soul if you lie was a good idea? - The cool girl who founded the human godparenting division is afraid you'll hurt her with your big, scary muscles and she'd rather "just be friends." oh no. - WHAT midlife crisis? Hahaha... Don't read Chapter 37. - The war over godkids from "Balance of Flour" (Season 7); H.P. and his 4 eldest pixies are drafted on the Fairies' side. Huh... That's gonna cause issues with the whole "BFF with the leader of the Anti-Fairies" thing... - Divorce? Child loss?? Raising some anti-fairy kid with Anti-Cosmo? Uh-oh. - His hat is also a pen

Read on FFN | Read on AO3 | Blog Tag

"I'm impolite and I make fun of everyone! I'm immature but I will stay this way forever <3" (x)

[annabelle--cane]

so flummoxing to me that there seems to be a large population of cishet men who sincerely believe that no women are attracted to feminine men. every straight woman I've ever known well enough to have a conversation like this has said her ideal man is a pretty boy fairy prince who she could bite in half.

[truckcrash1980]

happy pride month to arcade gannon from fallout new vegas

before i met him again i leveled my speech really high so i could recruit him as a companion and then i got the option to flirt with him instead and he immediately decided to come with me

[anxiouspotatorants]

Not me shipping Sansa with Podrick in year two thousand and twenty four

[amethystina]

The Devil Judge Meta: Introducing Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On

Hello. I'm sick with a fever and you all know what that means — another needlessly long and detailed meta about The Devil Judge. Because sometimes I like to be predictable.

Last time we looked at The Bus Scene and this time we'll be focusing on Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On's character introductions and what we find out about these two characters during them. And, to some degree, how they mirror and differ from each other. Spoilers: it's glorious.

Disclaimer: This is by no means a complete meta. I know next to nothing about filmmaking and all that goes into it, so this focuses mostly on the characters and what an amateur like me can observe during the respective scenes. But I might miss or skip over certain details, especially things related to cinematography and such. I'm a librarian, not a director, and I just want to yell about characters I love and how absolutely SPECTACULAR this drama is at presentation and storytelling. So sue me.

Second Disclaimer: I was, once again, left unsupervised with Photoshop while having a fever. So I, once again, take no responsibility for the resulting screenshots.

Third Disclaimer: This meta will not be entirely chronological but instead focus on one aspect of their introduction at a time, so there will be some jumps back and forth. But, hopefully, it will still be easy to follow.

And so, without further ado, you will find more under the cut!

Now. The first thing the drama wants to establish is that Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On are very different characters in terms of personality, experience, status etc. And how do they do this, you ask? By putting them in similar situations during their introductions but having several key differences that highlight their respective characterisation. This allows the viewer to more easily compare them and draw the desired conclusion — it might even happen subconsciously for some. Because, yes, their introductions are mirrored in so, so many ways and it's very effective once you put them side by side and actually study them more closely.

The devil's in the details, so to speak — pun ENTIRELY intended.

So! The first time we see them, they're on a mode of transportation, currently travelling through a tunnel. In Yo Han's case, it's a tunnel for cars:

In Ga On's case, we don't get a clear shot of the tunnel itself until later, but one can quickly deduce that he's in one given the details during the first second he's on screen:

Most people recognise this as a subway train and that the lighting must mean that they're either underground or inside a tunnel.

Now, here's where the fun begins since while they're both in dark tunnels, there are already some noticeable and important differences. Yo Han is in an expensive car — a vehicle he drives himself — and not only is he alone inside it, but practically alone on the road as well, with only the distant headlights of an oncoming car in sight. There are no cars (that we can see during this first shot) heading in the same direction as Yo Han.

Ga On, on the other hand? He is, as mentioned, on a subway car, driven by someone else, surrounded by other commuters. People who, in other words, might not be heading to the exact same destination as him, but at least in the same direction. They're all on the same train together.

So, even here, within literal seconds, while they're still both in this dark tunnel — unrevealed to the world, if you will — we are told several important things about these two characters:

Their current level of power over their own destiny (driving themselves vs. a mere passenger)

Their existence in society (solitary vs. one of the people)

Their social economic status (fancy car vs. subway train)

And, finally, the direction their moving (against the tide vs. the same as everyone else)

Beautiful, isn't it?

And this stark contrast continues once they emerge from their respective tunnels as well, with Yo Han driving out into the night:

And Ga On arriving to a burst of morning sunlight:

The consistent theme of Yo Han as darkness and Ga On as light will never not make me go feral, okay? I LIVE for that shit. And I'm still struggling against the impulse to write a meta about it because it would be insanely long and probably devolve into incoherent babbling at some point.

BUT I DIGRESS.

Once leaving the tunnel, they both find themselves on a bridge, crossing a wide expanse of… well, pitch-black darkness in Yo Han's case and water in Ga On's. Crossing a bridge is often meant to symbolise a transition or the start of something new. So, clearly, both Yo Han and Ga On are embarking on a new journey and we, the viewers, are invited to follow along during it. They begin these journeys roughly at the same time and, not so surprisingly, we soon find out that their paths are destined to cross. So while their journeys may have started separately, they'll eventually end up entwining and continuing forward together.

(… because we needed to make this drama sound even more like a star-crossed lovers romance, I guess?)

But where are they going then, you ask?

Well, that's another beauty of this introduction since you, as the viewer, aren't quite sure where Yo Han is heading, are you? Everything is just darkness. He could be going anywhere. We can assume he's heading to the fancy party we see in between the shots of Yo Han, sure, but we can't be certain. He's still very mysterious because, at this point, he's inside a car and we haven't seen how he's dressed or even his full face. His purpose is unknown — as is his final destination.

And that, as we all know, will actually remain more or less hidden from us until the very last episode. So I guess it's good that they establish his unpredictability from the very start? xD

Anyhow. They keep us in suspense for quite some time where Yo Han is concerned, having us watch him drive across Seoul. But one consistent thing is that he remains mostly alone on the road, even if we sometimes see other cars in the background. And, quite often, he's seen driving across or against the other cars, paving his own way, if you will.

(This is, of course, also because it's easier for the viewer to follow a single car as opposed to one in crowded traffic. So there are definitely productional reasons as well, but I do love the extra spice it adds to the reading of Yo Han's character)

We have no idea where Yo Han is headed and he could make a turn at any time, changing the direction of the car if he so chooses.

This is quite different from Ga On since all the context clues surrounding him — his clothes, the practical backpack, the number of other commuters on the train, the dusky morning sunlight — quickly leads to the assumption that he's heading to work. We might not know where he works yet, but there are still a lot fewer questions and uncertainties about his destination. Ga On's journey is, at least at first glance, predictable and mundane, especially compared to Yo Han's.

Ga On is on a train he's not driving, moving on a track with only one way to go. It's so predictable it's almost boring, the outcome set before it even began. If Ga On wants to change his path, his only option is to get off the train — that's how little control and influence he has. He's not without control — there is a choice involved, in getting on the subway in the first place — but it's a far cry from Yo Han who's in complete control, driving himself to wherever he's heading.

(And yes, do take a moment to ponder the beautiful new layer this adds to Yo Han telling Ga On to drive them to the fundraising gala. Made even more intriguing by that stunt Yo Han pulled by suddenly yanking on the wheel, testing Ga On's control over the car. And the significance of Ga On getting inside the car with Yo Han when he's telling Professor Min that he's eloping with his sugar daddy switching sides. Go on. Ponder it. I'll wait.)

Now, moving on to their faces.

Here we have two very different approaches. With Yo Han, we see glimpses of his face throughout his car ride, like this right here:

We can only barely make out his features with the majority of his face being in shadow. And this theme continues, showing us one piece here, another there, but never his fully lit face. Some parts are always hidden, outside of view, or in shadow. We get fractures of the man rather than the complete picture.

And then, of course, they hit us with this one:

Which (if you can tear your gaze away from, well, The Gaze) you'll find is about four cityscapes, twisted, mirrored, or layered on top of/next to each other. Which is, of course, very cool and pretty, but also an indication of Yo Han's character and the topsy-turvy ride we're about to go on with this man. Especially when you add the fact that we haven't even seen his entire face ONCE so far.

Translation: This bitch be complicated, fam.

Basically, Yo Han has layers upon layers and even if we're shown several parts of the whole and can assume we know what we'll find at the end, it might be a mistake to think we know him.

(I also like this shot because I can't help but wonder if this is what the inside of Yo Han's mind looks like. I mean, how he might look at a situation from different angles, layered on top of each other, flipped and tipped to its side or even upside down. Idk. It's an interesting thought.)

This build-up of not showing Yo Han's face continues for a long time, not just during the car ride but also after he arrives at the venue, where he's seen walking the halls. Again, just like while he was driving, he's often walking alone, past other people — even on the other side of a pane of glass at one point — to once again highlight his solitary and contrary path in life.

All of this makes it almost anti-climactic that the first time we see Yo Han's at least adequately lit face — when it's not being split up by shadows or camera angles — is this:

It's not even a particularly clear shot and he's surrounded by other people to the point where he's still sort of obscured. It's almost a little disorienting after all that build-up, especially since we see him relaxed and smiling, comfortably walking through a crowd of shouting people. It's in no way as flashy as that build-up made us believe. Why all that secrecy if this is how he's finally introduced? Wasn't it supposed to be special?

(Or maybe he's still hiding? Maybe this isn't his real face, either? The plot thickens!)

Ga On, in contrast, has an incredibly short build-up. We see him open the train door, walk a couple of steps, grab a handrail, and BAM.

No cheeky glimpses, fancy shots, or prolonged tension. Just: "Here he is — your boy."

(Thank you — we will treasure him)

Which, when put next to Yo Han's long and layered reveal, is pretty telling. Here's someone straightforward, to-the-point, and, most likely, honest. He doesn't need a long, complex introduction because what you see is what you get. There's something almost comforting in that clarity and it helps make Ga On feel more approachable and relatable, especially in comparison to Yo Han.

(May I also point out the hilarity of this being the first time we see Ga On's face and he's already looking at Yo Han? Better start early, I guess?)

And, obviously, instead of the darkness, artificial lights, and camera flashes of Yo Han's intro, Ga On gets this:

He is soft and warm like mash potato.

That's not to say that Ga On is without depth or layers, however. If we continue on the concept that light is very important in this drama (which we know it is) there are a couple of seconds here during Ga On's intro that are VERY intriguing. Because he, much like Yo Han, does get a moment of foreshadowing as well — of conflicts and reveals to come.

I present: The Three Stages of Kim Ga On

Shown in the order they appear in the drama, mere seconds apart. And, depending on how you choose to view the ending of the drama, could perhaps be said to show the progression of his character.

Anyway. Feel free to interpret this as a cheeky little wink, hinting at Ga On's hidden darkness. If you're into that kind of thing — which I clearly am. Because they didn't have to make the entire subway car go almost completely dark there for a second, but they did. And I, for one, am delighted.

(Yes, I'm having the time of my life, thank you for asking)

Now, perhaps you're tempted to argue that there wasn't much of that infamous mirroring here, with their situations being similar but with important differences in the key details. But that's only because I've been holding out on these two screenshots, showing both Yo Han and Ga On the seconds before their faces are revealed:

Just look at that. Look at the similarities and marvellous, wonderful differences that help establish who these two characters are — and how they contrast each other.

Yo Han arrives in a fancy suit to a red carpet event, people cheering, cameras flashing, and priceless art just on the edge of the shot. It's colourful, it's expensive, and it's important. There are even ropes separating him from the onlookers, signifying that his arrival is expected — he's the main event. The whole shot reeks of money, power, and prestige.

Meanwhile, Ga On is wearing a thick coat and backpack on a drab, dimly lit subway train, with graffiti on the walls, sleepy commuters lounging in their seats, and no one paying attention to him. Ga On is right there, amongst the rest of the people, and it's in no way important. He is in no way significant. He's just a normal guy — one more commuter on the train, heading to work.

Just these two shots alone tell you so much about these characters and what to expect from them. It is, quite frankly, masterful character establishment, especially when you put them one after the other like this.

Because, dear LORD, from a framing perspective? Both having objects on each side, framing them in, and people occupying roughly the same space? (though they're lower on Ga On's and higher on Yo Han's which, of course *chef's kiss*) And how the lines of the red carpet line up with the lights from Ga On's subway, turning them almost into literal mirrors of each other? Except instead of showing a reflection, it shows the rich vs. the poor — the high society vs. the low.

K, take the wheel, I'm going to need a moment.

(*pterodactyl screech*)

MOVING ON.

Even if Ga On's coat looks nice and all, they still make sure to establish that, yes, he's from a poor background. Partly through his mode of transportation but also this shot (which is one of my favourites):

Very often, the use of stairs, escalators, and elevators symbolise a character's status and their climb upwards or fall from grace. In Ga On's case, we see him riding the escalator on this journey he's embarked on, essentially showing us how he's moving up in the world — that he's heading somewhere new, to a place he's not originally from. To a level of influence and power he's not had before. This new job is Important. Which is only further strengthened later during the day, when he has to descend a cracked, dimly lit staircase in a bad neighbourhood on his way home, taking him back to the level where he originally came from.

Yo Han, meanwhile, stays the same almost the entire time, both while driving and walking through the venue. His journey is unchanged in terms of status, fame, and riches. The only exception is a brief moment of him walking up a staircase but it's short enough to have less of an impact than Ga On's ascent.

There's also the added layer of Ga On not walking up these steps and instead being taken there on an escalator — once again showing us that he's not really picking his destination on his own. He's just following along.

And, finally, of course: the lighting. The gorgeous lighting.

Ga On, as always, symbolises light though here I'd argue it has the additional meaning of rich vs. poor and, considering the advertisement slapped on the wall, influence vs. powerlessness. He's emerging from the dark into the light, the edge almost sharp enough to touch.

Just like stairs and elevators can symbolise status, to draw a line — literal or otherwise — and have a character interact with it says a lot about their personality, actions, and coming journey. An abundance of storytelling can be hidden in these lines, to show differences in status, influence, and opinions. It's also a very good way to build tension and create conflict.

And, in Ga On's case, he's crossing it. This is a step on his journey — one of the bridges he's crossing on the way to the new beginning he's facing. With this, Ga On is heading out into a world on a completely different level than he initially grew up in.

And he looks so hopeful, too! Gazing upward, into the light.

(This screenshot wasn't entirely necessary to prove my point, I just think he's cute)

And this brings us to the last area I want to focus on, which is their position/standing with the people and within society. Since this, too, is made very clear to the viewer during their introductions. Partly through the social-economic differences we've already touched on, but also how they interact with other people.

We see both of these men pass by the signs of unrest in their country and, quite quickly, their respective standings are established. Yo Han, for example, is seen driving through the chaotic, burning streets of Seoul:

But, clearly, he's not really touched by it. First of all, he's got the protection of the car to shield him from the literal blaze and, second, the car itself shows just how far removed he is from this. The contrast between the fancy car and the burning streets is wonderful (or, well, horrible, actually, but you know what I mean). Also, since he's inside the car, we don't get to see his reaction to any of this. Is he horrified? Outraged? Sad? Neutral? We have no idea.

There's even this shot to further hammer home just how distant Yo Han is from the struggle of the everyday people:

Not only are they separated by a wall which, as you can see, creates another line. But, unlike Ga On, neither Yo Han nor the people are crossing it. They're staying on their separate sides for now, within sight of each other but not touching or challenging the status quo.

And, once again, Yo Han's car shows the opulent world he comes from, while the people protesting are walking. You can also see that Yo Han is heading in the completely opposite direction from everyone else. And, of course, you have the added bonus of the people walking into the light — symbolising hope and righteousness — and Yo Han is driving, well, we can't quite see where, but it looks like it's going to be dark.

Absolute goddamn poetry.

And what about Ga On, you ask? Unsurprisingly, his reaction — and relationship — to the protesting people is completely different.

Not only is he walking — just like they were — but he's right there, next to them. He's one of them. He even acknowledges the protest by looking at the man's sign. And, unlike Yo Han, we get to see his reaction which, while subtle, shows quite a lot of discomfort. He keeps walking without pausing, sure, but it's clear that he's uncomfortable. He almost looks ashamed, even, since he tilts his head down as he walks past the protesting people.

That hopeful, bright-eyed optimism is suddenly nowhere to be seen and, very quickly, establishes one of Ga On's main conflicts, i.e. his desire to help the people but lack of power to do so since he is one of the people. He's not rich and famous like Yo Han.

Which is only further proved when Ga On passes yet another line — this one even guarded by men with guns, showing just how few are allowed the privilege:

This line is even clearer than the one when he emerged from the subway and the way he crosses it, without hesitation, says a lot about his bravery and boldness. But we can also see that it takes him past the protests, away from the people, and into the safe, guarded world of the rich and powerful. It doesn't mean he has to stay there, but its shows, once again, that he's going somewhere new, crossing boundaries and expectations.

And, just to emphasise this a little bit more, in case we didn't catch on yet, this happens:

He immediately gets stopped and asked to prove why he should be allowed in this space. Implying that he doesn't belong. But we quickly find out that, despite his origins, this is actually where he's supposed to be — he's just new. He's reached the destination of his journey (for now).

It's also important to note that we don't get to follow Yo Han on his route to work even if they both crossed that bridge at the start. Because while they're both embarking on something new, Yo Han's journey was taking him to the venue where he's named the new chief judge of the Live Court Show, but going in to work at the Supreme Court? Clearly nothing new to Yo Han. He's already there when Ga On arrives, even, showing that Yo Han, unlike Ga On, is comfortably where he belongs. Yo Han has existed in this world for quite some time already.

Ga On's arrival at the Supreme Court also shows just how much of a nobody he is. His face isn't recognised, so he's clearly not famous. Meanwhile, Yo Han showed up at his destination to applause and a red carpet and, before long, got this framing:

He is, quite literally, above the regular people, signifying not only how rich he is, but his status and importance. So while both Yo Han and all the organisers of the Live Court Show keep insisting that it's for the people, this shot here tells you everything you need to know. Because Yo Han is still untouchable to these people, in his fancy suit, broadcast on a huge TV screen. He's not one of them, even if he claims to represent them. His peers — i.e. the only people in the same room as him, who aren't seeing him through a TV broadcast — are other rich people or reporters. Telling, much?

I also love the added detail of how bright the screen is, like a beacon of hope in the dark, but it's artificial light, created by man, so how true is it? This is very different from Ga On who is often bathed in natural sunlight, making his light and the hope he offers seem much more sincere.

Anyhow! Let's also take a (quick) detour to discuss colours because they, too, play a role. While both of them start in more or less the same colour scheme (dark, muted blues, greens, greys, and black) they quickly head in different directions once they emerge from their respective tunnels.

Yo Han gets bright sparks of colours — some of them even fluorescent — though, most notably, glowing oranges and angry reds. There is a lot of colour in Yo Han's introduction, making it very rich, warm, and luxurious, especially once he arrives at the venue. But it's all so bright it almost feels fake. And, perhaps more importantly, you have all the fires and chaos. While both introductions show protests and unrest, Yo Han's portray a much more violent and angry side of it — a much more frightening one. And, perhaps, a bit of foreshadowing as to what kind of person Yo Han is.

Ga On, on the other hand, stays in that more neutral colour space aside from some bright glimpses of warm, natural sunlight. It's calm and unassuming, if also a bit grey and mundane, showing his low status. But it's also less artificial, which makes him feel more like an honest, ordinary person. The red pops up here, too, though, on the protest signs, connecting back to the chaos and anger we saw in Yo Han's colouring. So while we can see that they both exist in the same world that blends together at times, they are kept separate through their colouring during their introduction.

In conclusion: It's often said that how you introduce a character is vital since whatever a viewer sees first will, most likely, colour their understanding of the character for the duration of the story. It can of course evolve as more information is gathered but, in the long run, that first introduction is incredibly important.

And it's clear from what we've seen here that a lot of thought has been put into these introductions. Not only are they meant to tell us who these characters are with all the context clues and details, but also how they mirror each other. And, by extension, their relationship to each other. One on its own would still say much about that character, but it's only when you view them together that you can get the full depth and meaning behind them. Only when you contrast Yo Han's mysterious and flashy intro to Ga On's muted, more natural entrance can you fully grasp the scope of these characters — and how they're meant to be played against and complement each other.

Made even clearer by how both of their introductions involve an initial journey — a new beginning — but it's only once both of them have completed it (Ga On's taking place the morning after Yo Han's) that their introductions are finished and the rest of the story begins. There's a certain kind of beauty in how these scenes show two different journeys — when they took place, how they took place, who embarked on them — but they still reached the same destination in the end. Yo Han and Ga On's journeys both take them to the Supreme Court and, more specifically, the Live Court Show. That is where their paths are destined to cross.

And that, right there, is the core of their story and this entire goddamn drama. And also the one thing I want you all to take with you as you leave this meta.

The introduction of Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On is ultimately done with one overarching goal in mind.

To bring them together and allow for their shared journey to begin.

*Mic drop*

[mossytrashcan]

yeah that’s it I’ve got to get mutuals who actually like the shit I like

[sanduchengjiu]

one thing that always bothered me and confused me about mdzs is why Wei Wuxian and Jiang cheng were pitted against each other so strongly. Bc even if you take into account that people would assume wwx was a bastard of jfm, in the narrative its something that is common? Or at least in terms of the Jin, there were bastards flying all over the place but I don’t remember there ever being competition about who would be the sect leader, it was always Jzx until he died. So idk if I missed something or I’m misremembering but it honestly feels like most of the pressure came from the fragile relationship between the Jiang parents and less about what society thought. Also favoring Wei Wuxian is one thing but jfm never gave any implication that he was being favored as the next in line, as shitty as his favoritism was. It just makes me feel sad that both boys were under so much pressure for absolutely futile reasons at the end of the day. Like was jc’s cultivation that bad?? I don’t think so?? And even then if he was less talented than wwx it wouldn’t matter bc he’s still the heir. It would be insane if jfm just decided to break convention over talent bc of some sect motto. And I don’t remember there ever being a requirement to be an outstanding amazing cultivator to be sect leader. If that was the case then there would be no hereditary structure to succession, and jfm wouldn’t even be on the roster? Neither would jgs. There was never any importance on their ‘talents’ so wtf was the problem.

Also what was the timeline on Wei Wuxians conception bc he and Jiang cheng were born like a week apart at least at most one year and it seems like wwxs parents were not even at lotus pier since they left to wander together. I feel like that would clear a lot of things up tbh. bc I don’t think jfm capable of finding csr on the road and conceiving wwx and then coming home to yzy and conceiving jc, and csr wasn’t even a yunmeng jiang cultivator it was wcz?? So what was the overlap. Like did jfm get wcz pregnant or what?? Were they regular visitors to lotus pier? To me it read like jfm was a great friend and leader to wcz and admired csr but I read it a while ago so idk. It’s not helped by the fact that jfm doesn’t seem to favor yzy more than is necessary at least outright, and we all know she ain’t the most attentive either. So basically jc and wwx were brought into the world into a weird and fucked up long distance foursome situation and spent their entire youth suffering under the second hand feelings of their parents.

[tmmyhug]

this is baffling me. should it not quite obviously be the other way around

[yooniesim]

outgoing and artistic, some of foxbury’s loudest juniors inhabit tidal tower: antony lin, xzavier balderas, and samuel huber. best friends antony and xzavier met as freshmen both joining the football team, and they met samuel a year later when he transferred in from ubrite. antony is majoring in fine arts, samuel in drama, and xzavier in art history. antony is the oldest of the trio and spends far too much of his time making sure the other two are fed and watered; he occasionally finds time to study and go out with his boyfriend, felix. pescatarian xzavier runs his own cooking club, the golden shrimp, and live streams his gaming sessions when he’s not busy with practice. samuel is in cheer and is the first to know when anything worth talking about happens, even as he’s constantly scolded for it by the captain, shawn. always busy and bustling, they’re also always testing the patience of their lone upstairs dormmate, sam. will they manage to graduate with all their limbs and all their friends’ sanity intact?

[aciakatura]

[thebirdandhersong]

I think I'm over the "men are the WOOOOOORST" hill of irrational rage :D

[no-psi-nan]

Thinking about the Aren Harem on his special day...

[fictionadventurer]

The Shocking Redemption Arc of Chester Arthur

To my great pleasure, I get to tell you about Chester A. Arthur. If you don’t know his story, that’s a surprising statement, because most people don’t even recognize his name as one of the presidents. That’s a crying shame, because this guy has the most fascinating character arc of any president I’ve come across so far. He entered the presidency as a despicable, corrupt, conniving political lackey, and left it as--

Well, I’d best get on with the story.

Chester Arthur started out as an idealist. He was the son of an abolitionist Baptist minister, and though he dropped the religion in adulthood, he remained devoted to abolishing slavery. He became a lawyer with a New York firm that argued several civil rights case, and he rose to fame in 1854 when he served as the defense attorney for Elizabeth Jennings, the Northern version of Rosa Parks. Arthur’s victory in her case led to the desegregation of New York City’s public transportation.

During the Civil War, Arthur got an appointment as New York’s quartermaster general. After the war, Arthur returned to civilian life and became a Republican “party man” who worked behind the scenes to draw in voters, funding, and supporters. He and his wife Ellen (called Nell) both loved the finer things in life, which drove Arthur to do whatever he could to gain fame, wealth, and social status.

This is where I need to explain the spoils system. For the first hundred-plus years of American politics, all federal positions were filled by appointment. When a new president came into office, he could award government positions to his supporters--"to the victor go the spoils". Federal employees were required to donate money to the ruling party. There were no requirements for education or relevant experience. Any job could be filled by anyone with the right connections. If you think that sounds like a breeding ground for corruption and cronyism, you’d be absolutely right. By the 1870s, the system was getting extremely corrupt, and there was a growing push for reform.

But not by Chester Arthur. He owed his career to the spoils system. Through his work in the party, he became the right-hand man of Roscoe Conkling, New York’s senior senator and the state’s “political boss”. Conkling was a flamboyant showman, a magnetic politician, and a ruthless man. He had been a major supporter of Ulysses S. Grant’s presidential campaign, so Grant gave Conkling control over all the federal appointments in New York. Conkling used his power to fill positions with his friends and supporters, and he was brutal in attacking anyone who got in his way.

Because Chester Arthur was Conkling’s most loyal supporter, he got the best federal job in the country—Controller of the Port of New York. Before income tax, around 60-70% of federal funds came from the tariffs at this one port. The controller got a salary similar to the president’s, plus he was able to take a percentage of all the fines they levied. At the height of his power, Chester Arthur made $50,000 a year, which is a lot when the average skilled worker at the time made $500. (A rough estimate puts his salary at $1.3 million in today’s dollars.)

Arthur was living the high life. He racked up huge tailor bills. He had a gorgeously furnished house. His job allowed him to force his employees to donate a percentage of their salary to the Republican Party, which gave him even more power within the political machine. He bought huge amounts of wine and cigars that he handed out to people he was wining and dining for the good of the party. His wife resented that he was rarely home because of his political work, but Arthur loved the machine too much to stop.

After his 1876 election, President Rutherford B. Hayes desperately tried to reform the spoils system, but was blocked every step of the way by Roscoe Conkling. Finally, in 1878, Hayes managed to remove Arthur from his position as port controller, under suspicion of corruption, which allowed Arthur to spend more time working for New York’s political machine.

In January of 1880, Arthur was in Albany working for a political campaign when his wife caught pneumonia. By the time Arthur got home, Nell had fallen into a coma, and he wasn’t able to speak with her before she died. He felt guilty over her death, and especially the lack of closure caused by his devotion to politics. But instead of changing his ways, Arthur moved in with Conkling and became more devoted to politics than ever.

Which brings us to the 1880 Republican Convention. The Republican Party was split between two warring factions—the Stalwarts like Conkling who wanted to keep things the way they were, and the Half-Breeds who wanted civil service reform. President Hayes refused to seek re-election (partly because Conkling had made his life miserable) so these two factions somehow had to agree on a new candidate. Conkling supported a third term for Ulysses S. Grant. The Half-Breeds supported James G. Blaine of Maine—who happened to be Conkling’s mortal enemy.

James Garfield was there to nominate John Sherman—the Secretary of the Treasury and the younger brother of the famous Civil War general—and I can’t go any further in this story before I tell you a little bit about him. James Garfield is one of the most ridiculous overachievers in the realm of American politics. He was born into a dirt-poor farming family (he’s the last president ever to have been born in a log cabin). At sixteen, he left home to work on a canal boat, but quit after he nearly drowned, and his mother and brother scraped up enough money for him to go to school. His first year, he paid for his tuition by working as a school janitor. His second year, the school hired him to teach six classes (while he was still a student!) and then added two more because of how popular he was. By the time he was twenty-six, he was president of that same school. He became a lawyer and was elected to Ohio’s state legislature. During the Civil War, he became the youngest person to earn the rank of general. While fighting in the Civil War, his friends put his name in as a candidate for the US House of Representatives, and Garfield won even though he refused to campaign. He then served several terms in the House, where he became popular, but he refused to seek the presidency, because he’d watched several friends become warped by their presidential ambitions.

At the 1880 Republican Convention, Garfield was the more popular Ohio candidate, but insisted he was there only to nominate Sherman. At one point in his nominating speech, Garfield asked the audience, “Now, gentleman, what do we want?” To Garfield’s horror, one man shouted, “We want Garfield!”

Garfield remained loyal in nominating Sherman, but the spark had been lit. The voting went round after round after round for two days, with the votes being split between Grant, Blaine, and Sherman, with no one getting enough to win the nomination. Garfield got one vote in the third round. In the thirty-fourth round, Garfield suddenly got seventeen votes. Garfield stood to protest, saying no one had a right to vote for him since he hadn't consented, but the president of the convention--who was secretly thrilled because he liked Garfield more than any of the other candidates--told Garfield to sit down.

By the thirty-sixth vote, Garfield had won the nomination.

Now they had to choose a vice president. Several of the delegates got the idea to throw a bone to Roscoe Conkling. He was furious that Grant had lost the nomination, and he was vindictive. Conkling controlled New York’s political machine, so without him, the Republicans would lose New York, and without New York, they’d lose the election. He had to be placated. So the delegates nominated Chester Arthur, his right-hand man, as vice president.

Conkling told Arthur to refuse the nomination, but Arthur accepted, saying it was a greater honor than he had ever hoped to achieve. That's putting it mildly. The only position he’d ever held was port controller, and he’d been removed from that. Plenty of people thought nominating him was a horrible idea—a man like Chester Arthur only one step away from the presidency? But other people thought it was a shrewd political move—it would placate Conkling’s faction of the party, and Garfield was young and healthy and would rule in a time of peace. It wasn’t like there was any chance he’d die in office.

After Garfield was elected, Arthur immediately started causing problems. He all but openly boasted of buying votes in the election—which was not a great look when it had been a close race. He was completely on Conkling’s side in his war against Garfield. After Garfield appointed Levi Morton, a Stalwart, as Secretary of the Navy, Conkling sent Arthur and another lackey to drag Morton out of his sickbed--forcing him to drink a bracing mixture of quinine and brandy--and bring him to Conkling’s house to get chewed out, which caused Morton to resign. Conkling forced another Stalwart Cabinet nominee to resign on inauguration day.

Then Conkling went to war over the federal appointments. At first, Garfield placated him, appointing several of Conkling’s candidates. But then Garfield nominated Judge Robertson as Port Controller of New York Harbor. Conkling was livid. That was the prime federal position, a major source of Conkling’s power in the party, and Robertson was one of Conkling’s political enemies. In Conkling’s mind, Garfield had stabbed him in the back. Arthur agreed, and openly bad-mouthed the president to the press.

Conkling and the other New York senator resigned their Senate seats in protest—a dramatic political move. In those days, state legislatures voted for senators, and Conkling believed that since he controlled so many New York politicians, they’d easily get re-elected to their old seats. Unfortunately, the legislature was sick of being under Conkling’s thumb. The election became a drawn-out battle, and Chester Arthur went to Albany to help Conkling in his campaign.

While he was there, the unthinkable happened. On July 2, 1881, James Garfield was shot at a train station by Charles Guiteau, an insane office-seeker. Guiteau had come to the White House every day for months seeking an appointment under the spoils system. When that failed, he decided God wanted him to get Garfield out of the way so the spoils system could continue. After he shot the president, Giteau shouted, “I am a Stalwart, and Arthur will be president!”

As you can imagine, that made things really bad for Arthur. He’d just spent months fighting the president tooth and nail, and the assassin had mentioned his name. Plenty of people thought Arthur had something to do with the shooting. He and Conkling both needed police details to protect them from lynch mobs.

Arthur didn’t want to be president; in his mind, vice president was the perfect job—a position with a lot of political leverage, but no responsibility. He went to the White House hoping to convince Garfield that he had nothing to do with the shooting, but the doctors wouldn’t let him in the room. He managed to speak to the First Lady, where he got choked up with emotion and was observed to be in tears. A reporter later found him in the house where he was staying in Washington, and noted he'd obviously been weeping.

To Arthur’s relief, Garfield seemed to get better. The bullet had missed his spinal cord and all his major organs. If he’d been left alone, Garfield would have made a complete recovery. Unfortunately, his doctors repeatedly prodded the bullet wound with unsterilized instruments, and Garfield fell victim to a massive infection. He lingered for months, slowly starving and rotting to death.

Through all this, Arthur stayed in New York and refused to take up presidential duties; with so many people accusing him of the assassination, he didn’t want to make it look like he was preparing to usurp the throne.

It eventually became clear that the assassin had acted alone, which laid the rumors to rest, but no one wanted Arthur to be president. James Garfield had been a man of the people. The working class considered him one of their own, proof that anyone could rise from poverty and become president. He was an idealist, a champion of civil rights, a family man who lived modestly. For the first time since the Civil War, a president had been supported by both the north and the south, and the country had come together in grief. Chester Arthur was Garfield’s exact opposite—a conniving political lackey who’d become a millionaire through corruption.

James Garfield died on September 19th. To the American people, it looked like their worst nightmare had come true. Conkling’s lackey was in the White House, and now Conkling would rule the nation the same way he’d ruled New York.

Yet, to everyone’s surprise, President Chester Arthur became a completely different man. In one of his first speeches, he listed civil service reform as one of his top priorities—a shocking move for a man who’d become president through the spoils system. Soon after Arthur’s inauguration, Conkling demanded he name a new Controller of the Port of New York. Arthur angrily refused and called Conkling’s demand outrageous. Conkling stormed out in fury and never forgave Arthur. (Arthur did later risk his reputation to nominate Conkling for the Supreme Court, but Conkling, ever petty, refused the position.)

Arthur didn’t have a complete personality transplant. He still lived lavishly, hosting lots of state dinners. He still preferred the social duties of the presidency to actual government work, and he was a hopeless procrastinator. Always fastidious, Arthur refused to move in to the rotting, rat-infested White House until they fixed up the dump, and he ran up extravagant bills during the remodel.

Yet, as a president, he was...respectable. He worked for African-American civil rights. He started a major process of rebuilding and reforming the outdated and corrupt navy. He did sign the Chinese Exclusion Act, but he had vetoed an earlier, harsher version and only signed a much-reduced one (that probably would have been voted in anyway if he’d vetoed it). That remodel of the White House, even if it ran over-budget, was long overdue.

Most shocking of all was his unswerving devotion to civil service reform. He continued an investigation into a government postal scandal, even though everyone assumed he’d drop it. He voiced his continuing support for reform efforts. In 1883, Arthur signed the Pendleton Civil Service Reform Act. As written, the act required only 10% of federal jobs to be assigned based on merit, and even that required the president to take action to enforce it. People assumed that Arthur would sit back and do nothing, so the spoils system would remain in place. Yet Arthur immediately formed a commission to enact the reform, even appointing some of his old enemies. The man who’d benefited most from the spoils system became the one to finally destroy it.

How do we explain such a complete and sudden change? Part of it’s a matter of personality. If I can indulge in a bit of meta, Chester Arthur seems to be a textbook example of the sanguine-phlegmatic temperament—someone who wants to fit in with the crowd, to go with the flow. As a political lackey, this made him self-serving and amoral, but as president, the crowd he had to impress was the American people. After months of getting crucified in the press, with tons of articles saying what they didn’t want him to be, he’d have plenty of motivation to become what they did want him to be.

A more important motivation, though, was death. His wife’s death was likely the first shock that would make him step back and take stock of his political career. Garfield’s death had an even more profound influence on him. The spoils system had led a madman to murder a president in Arthur’s name; if anything could motivate a man to change the system, that would be it. Even more profound than that was his own death. Not long after entering the White House, Arthur was diagnosed with a fatal kidney disease. He hid the diagnosis during his term, but his actions in office were the actions of a man doomed to die, with a mind toward the legacy he’d leave behind.

Yet there’s another stranger, more mysterious influence that I’ve left to last because of how cool the story is. The day before his death, Chester Arthur—who’d become ashamed of his old life—asked a friend to burn the vast majority of his papers. Years later, among the papers that had been spared, his grandson uncovered a packet of twenty-three letters from a 31-year-old invalid named Julia Sand. Julia came from a family very interested in politics, and her illness meant that she spent a lot of time reading the newspapers, so she was familiar with Chester Arthur’s political career. In August of 1881, she sent Chester Arthur a letter that began, “The hours of Garfield's life are numbered—before this meets your eye, you may be President. The people are bowed in grief; but—do you realize it?--not so much because he is dying, as because you are his successor.” Over seven pages, Julia scolded Arthur for his corrupt ways, but assured him of her faith in his better nature, and urged him to reform. She sent letters over the next two years, full of encouragement and scolding and political advice. She called herself his “little dwarf”, because her lack of ties to him meant she could be completely honest with him.

There’s no evidence he ever answered her. But she did offer some rather specific political advice that he seems to have followed. And he did visit her once. In 1882, he stopped by her house in the presidential carriage, surprising her and her family (who had no idea she’d been writing to the president) with an hour-long visit. She seemed to grow more frustrated with his lack of answers after that, and no letter exists after 1883.

There’s no way to say what kind of effect the letters had on him. But amid all the turmoil after the assassination, it must have meant something to have one voice saying she believed in him. She was a voice from outside the Washington political machine, who could serve as a sort of conscience. The fact that those letters survived when so much else burned suggests he considered them worth saving.

No matter the reason, the truth remains that Arthur entered the presidency as an example of all that was dirty and loathsome in the political system, and he left it as a respectable man. In giving up his old ways, he sacrificed connections he’d spent years building. His old friends never forgave him, and his old opponents never quite trusted his reform, yet he did what he thought was right even if it meant he stood alone. In summing up his presidency, I don’t think I can do better than contemporary journalist Alexander McClure: “No man ever entered the Presidency so profoundly and widely distrusted as Chester Alan Arthur, and no one ever retired... more generally respected, alike by political friend and foe.” I think that deserves to be remembered.