#they’re not meant to have the same structure each time

[cyberfunsupporter]

i don’t really get why people wanna change the vocal roles of rv (irene rapper, seulgi main vocalist, wendy main vocalist, joy sub vocalist, yeri sub rapper) so bad. i personally think they fit very well + they vary depending on the song, which is what’s supposed to happen in a music group?? it’s just the general set-up for their songs, although it doesn’t inherently mean that’s how it’ll be all the time 😭

[missredherring]

Develop

Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: R

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: one-sided feelings. unspecified age gap. stalker behavior. a dash of voyeurism? female masturbation.

Summary: Your fingers freeze on the mouse when you get to the last pictures of the final roll of film. You scroll through, eyes straining to understand what the thumbnail is showing you. 

It looks like Joel had an adult sleepover of his own.

A/N: This came from @psychedelic-ink and the idea that Joel has a collection of dirty pictures. Thank you @johnwatsn to the moon and back for being an amazing beta.

A little thrill zips through you when you see the name on the blue and white striped envelope on the counter. You crane your neck to see if he’s still in the store, but you only see a pair of broad shoulders and curly hair walking out the door.

There, filling out the request form printed on the front of the envelope in neat and legible handwriting, is his name, contact information, and print order.

Joel Miller.

The envelope is slightly larger than a 5x7" print so it can fit the two offered print sizes and negatives easily. It can begrudgingly fit an entire disposable camera, maybe two with seams near bursting, but not the four that Joel had left in a line under the envelope. You smile at his thoughtfulness. Other customers toss them on the counter without a care, but his are lined up neatly with the envelope resting on top. Had he looked around for a rubber band to keep them together? You’re disappointed at the missed opportunity for small talk, but there’s always a chance you’ll be working when he picks his order up. 

You get to work, cracking open the plastic case of the disposable cameras like crab shells. Four rolls of film go into the processor, unspooling and revealing their secrets. Usually he brings in one or two every couple of weeks. They’re filled with things like his daughter’s soccer games, family cookouts with who you think is his brother: they have the same eyes and nose. Sometimes they’re pictures from jobs he does. You don’t know anything about construction, but you think he’s good at what he does. The lines are clean and the structures look solid.

The machines run through their functions and your computer screen steadily fills with thumbnails of pictures as each negative is scanned. It looks like his daughter had a sleepover. There’s picture after picture of faces too close to the lens. Red eyes and toothy grins take up the frame. An impromptu concert with music video dance moves frozen in time, and peaceful faces peeking out of sleeping bags. It looks like a nice time, making you remember sleepovers of your own, and the fuzzy feeling you usually get when looking over Joel’s pictures warms you almost as much as the heat coming from the machines.

Your fingers freeze on the mouse when you get to the last pictures of the final roll of film. You scroll through, eyes straining to understand what the thumbnail is showing you. 

It looks like Joel had an adult sleepover of his own.

Included in your job description as a photo technician is the duty of reviewing photos that people want prints of and deciding if they were too adult in nature to print. That meant no nudes or anything illegal in nature. Thankfully, it’d never been an issue baring the few rolls of film that showed up after an annual biker rally. 

Objectively, these photos aren’t anymore risqué than a boudoir photoshoot. It’s hard to be objective right now. 

Some of the lines are blurry from the camera being operated with one hand. A woman in lingerie pushing up her chest with her arm, just the hint of a coy look on what you could see of her face. The last two are different. The angle, the perspective, and the photographer has changed. 

The lace of the lingerie teasing the curve of a hip and a hand, big and rough-looking, resting just where the line of fabric gives way to skin. The indent of his fingertips just beginning to show as they press down. 

The woman’s face. Her lips are plump and open like she’s waiting for another kiss. Large glassy eyes don’t look back at you from the lens. Instead they’re looking just off to the side, where he must be. 

A man’s hand. It has to be Joel’s; you recognize the fading bruise on his thumbnail from when he handed over his disposable cameras last time. His hand is cupping her jaw, tilting her face to the side just so. Like he was directing her to the perfect pose for this picture. 

Your mind has turned to static. Before you can form a coherent thought, your finger twitches, increasing the print count for the last photo, and before you can cancel it the order is starting, the printer rumbling to life. 

You know you shouldn’t have done it. It’s an invasion of privacy. It’s against the rules. It’s probably illegal. It’s just not right.

The picture, still hot off the rollers, is shoved into your purse like the contraband it is. 

***

You’re too old to be sneaking things into the apartment like this, but it feels like there’s a giant sign pointing right to your purse that tells everyone what you did. You shove it under your mattress and try to forget about it. You can’t. It feels like hiding a dead body. A tell-tale heart under your mattress that beats along with throbbing in your pussy. 

It’s a slip of paper. Nothing. But as you lay in bed that night you swear you can feel it. It makes you feel silly, like the princess and the pea, but you don’t remove it. You don’t have to.

The tableau is seared into your mind’s eye. Showing the negative image on every blank surface you look at. You can’t stop thinking about it, wanting it.

You want to be the one his hands are on. So you touch yourself to that fantasy, and it’s so strong, the closeup of his hands so detailed, that you’re close to coming in minutes. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, but you don’t care about wrong or right; you just want Joel Miller to fuck you. The thought, blunt and delicious, spurs you on and you come, turning your head to your pillow to muffle the whimper that escapes you.

The endorphins rush through your body, and there's some satisfaction from coming, but the ache, the want, is still there as you clench around your own fingers. 

Crossing your arm over your chest, you cup your own face with a trembling hand in the same way Joel had in the picture. Tracing the curve of your lip, you press down, as if admiring the darkened hue.

Did he turn her head just for the camera? Was her pulse hammering in her ears so loudly that she couldn’t hear the crank of the film advancing or the click of the shutter? Did she smile at him after? Did he call her his good girl? Did he call her his "Baby," “Sweetheart,” or “Darlin'” in that southern drawl? Yea, you like that one.

“Look at me, Darlin’.”

Wind, wind, wind. Click.

You imagine it’s his weight on the mattress that makes you shift. The way he’d keep himself back, maybe even still wearing his jeans and nothing else. The bulge in those jeans would be evidence enough of his desire, even if you couldn’t see his face, partially covered by the camera. 

You widen your thighs and lift your hips to him; to his touch and to his view. Your hand goes back down to your pussy and you start touching yourself again, opening the swollen lips for him. The cum makes everything slippery and you know you must look a mess. Spread open and on display for a phantom photographer. Would the flash catch it and make it shine?

Would he want a picture of this moment too? A keepsake from a night of passion. When memories and sensation fade, would he take the picture out and remember you fondly? Would he touch himself while he looked at it? Remembering how you felt? The softness of your skin, the taste on your tongue, the heat of your pussy. Would he be careful not to cover the glossy paper with his cum so it wouldn’t stain? Or would he like that so much he’d do it again on purpose. Covering your image in his cum just like he had covered your body that night. He wouldn’t have had enough wits about him to take a picture of that. 

Your entire body tightens up as you continue to press against your clit, circling and circling, pushing into overstimulation as one orgasm rolls into another. “Joel.” His name echoes in the room and the climax feels better this time.

You go back and forth on whether you want to be the one to hand him his completed order before you fall asleep. 

[3584-tropical-fish]

Guess who just remembered this really old document they have sitting in their notes. Anyways woe empires smp season 1 dance style headcanons be upon ye

Pixandria: Dancing on sand is hard, so dances are specifically meant to be done on stone. Because of this, Pixandrians started dancing with the intent of making sounds with their feet and dance with a sort of tap shoe. Since the Anthill has the hardest rock of Pixandria, structured dances are done there. The Anthill has the added bonus of being the place closest to the sky, and dance is heavily associated with the winds and the storm. Dances are mostly calls for rain or a celebration of it. They are accompanied by drums, which mimic thunder, and the dance is very percussive and grounded. Wearing copper jewelry is also a large part of the dances, since it is so important to Pixandrian culture, calls the storm, and adds extra noise when it clinks together that sort of mimics rainfall

Mythland: I’d imagine partner dances are a very big part of their culture, and large group dances even more so. A lot of interlinking arms and Maypole style dances, because connection is very important to Mythlanders. This probably stems from the blood magic, and a major theme of Mythland blood magic is feeling connected to those around you. Mythland dances are grounded, and often done barefoot

Gilded Helianthia: Like Mythland, they have a heavy emphasis on partner dances, but group dances are less of a thing there. Duets are a large part of their culture in general. They’d dance a style similar to Irish, and their music is also in that style. Their dancing has two major styles: a down-to-earth, grounded style often done barefoot or with hard shoes, and a more lifted and airy style meant to praise the sun and mimic sunflowers

The Overgrown: The Overgrown dances are incredibly airy, they use a lot of flowing fabrics and include the fabric in their movement. Dances are always performed outside because it’s a celebration of the flowers and magic around them. Dances are often done solo as a coming of age rite. There are a series of set dances that everyone learns that are done on important days. Typically fast paced

Rivendell: Think French aristocracy, court dances. Performed with small steps on the balls of your feet, typically as a partner dance. Slow, measured, and lifted. There are very strict guidelines for how these dances are done, and are often meant to be a display of power. Ornate costumes are an important aspect of the dances

The Crystal Cliffs: Dancing is incredibly informal here, and not done often. Because the Cliffs are mainly a place of study and not a proper sovereign state, there are students from all over the world. So, styles from all different empires mix as the students share their native styles during their free time. The dance styles that have evolved here are short and quick, since students often fit them in between other things the need to do

The Grimlands: Like in Mythland, group dances are important to Grimlands culture. However, instead of dancing together, dances are done like breakdance cyphers where steps are exchanged in a turn based system. The Grimlands style stems from an older, more syncopated version of Mythland dance. It is grounded, and a major aspect of it is the way that their boots scuff across the ground to provide accents

The Undergrove: Shrub doesn’t dance much, but she tried to teach the wolves a gnome dance once. Gnome dances are known for their use of dizzying turns and focus on arm movement. It’s common to sing/play an instrument and dance at the same time, though when that occurs the steps are less complex than when one can put all their effort into just dancing. Dancing together is important to gnome culture

The Lost Empire: There are four very spiritual dances, one for each of the temples. Each has a slightly different style, but they’re not overly difficult so no one dies due to the heat of the jungle. These dances are only done by the emperor and the ones who upkeep the temple, and there are many rules surrounding these dances that apply to attire, where the dances are done, when they are done, as well as the importance of knowing why the dances are done. Secular dances focus on stomping rhythms out with your feet and a lot of improv, as well as up and down movement with the arms and torso which mimics bird wings

Mezalea: Dance isn’t a major part of Mezalean culture, since the entire population is Joel and his clones and Joel wasn’t much of a dancer. Instead, Mezalea focuses on visual art more than performing art. For the scattering of Mezaleans that do dance, dance is a means of creating art by painting the soles of their feet and dancing across a canvas or slab of terracotta with the sole purpose of creating patterns. So, Mezalean dance is categorized by the dancer dragging their feet across the floor and many repeated motions

The Ocean Empire: Dances here are very swing, there are a lot of weight shifts and partner dances where on person spins another around. Since it’s the Ocean Empire, most dance is done underwater, which leads to a very unique way of dancing that can’t be done anywhere else. Vertical height is played with a lot, as well as the use of loose clothes and long ribbons held by the dancers

The Cod Empire: The dances in the Cod Empire are quick and lively. They also use swing rhythms, as well as many dances that are meant to be performed in canons. Cod Empire dancing is very informal, and spontaneous challenges are issued from one person to another which starts off a round of dancing that may last for hours

Bonus, Mangrovia: Mangrovia is the home of refugees from all over, and the dancing reflects that. Like in the Crystal Cliffs, there is no one clear style, and instead an amalgamation of shared dances from all over. It is common for musicians from one empire to start up a song and dancers to match the feel, then another group of musicians will jump in and take over in a sort of call and response. Many people in Mangrovia know not only their native dance style, but also pick up many other styles so they can jump into any dance

[karouvas]

Was looking up every mention of Aurora in the books for the char study piece I want to write about her and my jaw dropped here because I had been misremembering that “She was the only person who he could not dazzle, and he loved her for it.” line as being a Bluesey quote when it’s about Niall and Aurora… yikes @ myself. But really when you isolate just that line it is very romantic and fits the definition of romance we see for the other main couples. Bluesey Pynch and Jordeclan are all structured as 

character A (Gansey/Adam/Declan) who is a social masker and disconnected from the ‘real them’ to some degree in a lot of interactions with the world around them x character B (Blue/Ronan/Jordan) who in Blue/Ronan’s case especially is very authentic and blunt and fearlessly themselves, that’s a little more complicated with Jordan who also has to perform as a version of Hennessy and then kind of find herself outside of that at the same time she starts her relationship with Declan, but she’s imaginative and creative the way Blue and in a less artistic way Ronan are and that proves an “authentic” contrast in a similar way, and she’s a helpful relationship for Declan in some of the same ways as Bluesey/Pynch.

 So understanding that’s a notion and type of dynamic this verse generally paints as romantic, Niall and Aurora’s relationship being a warped take on the formula is pretty interesting! Niall wants to be with someone who sees the truth of him and wants the truth of him, which was Mor who is also too complicated and sharp-edged for him to understand or to give him the type of love he wants, so he has to craft someone both much sweeter who is a more conventional housewife for him, but she couldn’t be someone who agreed with him 100% of the time because she had to be fundamentally different from him and also provide him with the faintest, most easily controlled glimmer of what he liked about Mor’s challenging nature, without any danger of her actually leaving or overpowering him. So Aurora can contradict him or call him out when she says he’s lying about the way Ronan was born, but she can’t truly Challenge him there’s a difference. I do get the sense from the way the brothers talk about her and the few flashbacks to her in that time she was more dynamic and complex pre Niall’s death than the Aurora we meet in trc present, which makes sense based on the mythology, and I don’t see a reason for her to not have an individual personality the same way Mathew and Jordan do although it would still be comparatively muted by her role. 

But basically, Niall wanting the same thing Gansey/Adam/Declan do but not being willing to actually build a recirprocal connection with someone with autonomy and offer them support too. There’s no Gansey comforting Blue after Persephone passes or Bluesey connecting over their similarly curious natures and wants and strange-loving relationship with Henrietta, and also none of their arguments which are honestly quite integral. If Niall’s… well does Niall have friends probably not, but theoretically if he had a male friend who made a comment like Henry’s very unfortunate r*pe joke in BLLB Aurora’s wouldn’t take Niall to task for putting her in that situation at all she would probably just smile along… None of Adam and Ronan’s conflicts or their viewing each other as equals would be able to occur same for Jordeclan.

I feel like seeing how that desire to have someone unconditionally understand you can be warped to the point of not respecting your partners agency or seeing them as a person outside of what they provide you really puts the main relationships into perspective for how they’re different, is what I meant to say. That’s not to say they’re without flaws (and they would be boring if they were), and I think some of the notion that perfect understanding is possible is one I would have liked to see questioned a little more than it is in canon, because I think these relationships provide the chars with types of understanding they crave and Might know them better than anyone else, but that doesn’t mean said understanding is absolute. As much as I love Bluesey I do think it’s fair to point out there’s sometimes a gap between how much Blue is encouraged by the narrative to understand Gansey and how much he has to reciprocate because of some misogyny and classism in the narrative, so there’s that. Or rather I’d say he reciprocates the understanding but less so when it comes to gendered conflicts. I think the ideal version of the Pynch arc in TD3 would be that it’s meant to challenge the notion we should rely on one person / our partner to always understand us fully by making it clear how terrible their communication has become and the gaps in their understanding related to their contrasting life goals and desires. It would actually be a really fascinating thing to deconstruct with them and if it had panned out I think that storyline could’ve been something truly special, but then either because of an audience feedback loop or just Maggie getting cold feat about some concepts, there’s a major backtracking to actually-love-solves-everything, Like, in isolation Adam telling Ronan that he’s the only Real thing in his life at this point and that’s worth too much to let go of is really romantic …. but then if you truly think about everything in the text around it and where Adam is at this point, and your reading a tad more cynically, you could also say that it reads less as high romance and more as a sunk cost fallac- but I digress the point was that Aurora & Niall’s relationship functioning as a mirror to these protagonist relationships is interesting, and there’s more to be said about the Mor&Niall/Adam&Ronan parallel and how it intersects with the comparison but I don’t have the energy.

(Also worth noting that while comparatives exist the m/m relationship is obviously never going to operate under the same gendered lines as the m/f romances and so any of those comparisons would be imperfect). 

TL;DR Niall and Aurora’s romance is a warped mirror of the protagonists (Bluesey Pynch Jordeclan) romantic dynamics in that they show how a relationship built on a similar dynamic premise of desire to be understood could be horrifying if one stops respecting the other party as an autonomous being outside of the understanding they offer them.

[mapileonxputellas]

Best Christmas Present (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Loved this Christmas one! Please send in anymore Christmas ideas... Requests 1, 2 and 3. 3k words x

“Final question for Y/N before we move onto Alexia.”

The joys of being the vice-captain of Barcelona meant joining Alexia for the press conference before the final game of the year. It felt like the middle of the night as you pulled up at the training session, hours before the training session all to face the questions of the media.

Having Alexia with you made it bearable, the two of you having been in a relationship for over four years now. The 7am wake up didn’t feel too bad when you were greeted with the love of your life in your shared home with Nala asleep at your feet.

“Y/N, how would you assess the season so far and what plans have you got for the Christmas break?”

A seemingly meaningless question to probably everyone in the room but one that brought up a touchy subject for yourself.

“In terms of the season so far I am pleased with both my own performance and the team overall but we know we cannot rest on that going into the new year. We’re more determined than ever to keep that unbeaten record in the league and reach the Champions League final again. We miss Alexia and others on the pitch at times but we’re trying to find alternative ways to break teams down effectively.” You answered, feeling your heart almost beat out of your chest as you thought about the second part of your answer. “I’m going to take the Christmas break to rest up and recharge ready for the new year in Spain.”

Out of all the things you loved about being Australian, the distance between there and your now home in Spain was not one of them. Christmas had never been an issue before, with the long break in the league you usually had time to travel there and back but this year the league structure meant that wouldn’t be possible and your parents’ health problems meant they couldn’t make the reverse journey.

“So you’re not travelling to Australia?”

“Sadly not.”

A simple answer but saying it out loud every time made it more real for you. Feeling a little nudge of your feat you slightly turned your head to find Alexia almost assessing you, making sure you weren’t going to breakdown so you sent her a weak smile accompanied by your blurry eyes.

Her smile immediately dropped noticing your mood and slightly scooted her chair over so her hand could grasp your own and draw patterns on your hand to calm you down.

The rest of the press conference was a blur for you, just focusing on the hand connected to your own and vaguely listening to Alexia. All you could think about was the new-found reality that you would be celebrating Christmas alone this year. This was your favourite holiday and it wouldn’t be the same on your own with no-one to celebrate with. This time the final question was a blessing as you quickly thanked the media before shuffling out of your seat.

You could feel Alexia’s eyes on you as you walked out the door but you didn’t have any time to talk about what had happened as you were thrust into a full changing room ready for the training session.

“Here come the love birds.” Claudia shouted as you entered. Trying to distract yourself you went straight over to your cubby between Ana and Jana. “Can’t even keep your hands off each other for twenty minutes.”

“Leave them alone.” Ana defended you. “They’re just in love.”

“What are you talking about anyway?” You questioned, quickly trying to change into the training gear.

“Let’s just say you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were.” Jana teased as you sat down. The young girl had spent a lot of time with both you and Alexia and often referred to you as her team mum.

“What?”

“Alexia getting handsy.” Mapi interrupted her. “You should see twitter honestly it’s like you’ve got married never mind just held hands in a press conference.”

“I thought it was cute.” Ingrid added. “Don’t listen to them.”

“I always preferred your girlfriend Mapi.”

“Right back at ya.”

Just as you finished tying your boot laces a hand came and rested on your knee before your girlfriend came into your vision, kneeling down in front of you. Her glances around the room gave away that she was waiting for the room to clear before she spoke.

“Are you ok?” She whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me….”

“Can we do this later? Please.” You almost begged, not wanting to get upset and then have to go out into the cold.

“Promise you’ll talk to me later.”

“I promise.” You replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for back there.”

“Anything for you.”

….

You avoided the conversation for as long as you possible could by busying yourself around other people. Offering to give Jana a lift home who lived round the corner from you both, taking the longest shower possible and busying yourself with making tea before you sat down together for dinner, ready to face the music.

The silence was overwhelming as you both sat down, twirling the pasta round your fork as you avoided eye contact. Slowly making your way through the meal.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Alexia broke the silence.

“It’s complicated Alexia.”

“What’s complicated for me is the fact that you didn’t want to tell me.”

“There’s nothing you can do though, your family is here and mine’s not.” You wiped away the sole tear that was slowly trickling down your face. “I thought they were going to come here but then with their latest problems the health insurance wouldn’t cover them. But it’s fine, I’ve got everything I need here and we can celebrate together the day after.”

This time though it was Alexia who was confused. “What?”

“It’s fine at least you’ll get two Christmases.”

“Babe take a step back, I’m not letting you spend Christmas day alone.”

“I mean what other choice do I have?”

“Spend it with us.” She reached over to grab your hand. “My mum always cooks enough for the whole village and she loves you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s your family Ale.”

Well and truly before this year you’d never even had the option of celebrating Christmas together with the distance between you all. “They’re your family too and before you ask whether they’d be OK with it, my mum will be just worried the whole day if she knows you’re spending the day alone.”

“I feel like I’d be intruding.”

“I promise you wouldn’t be, this past year you’ve been a rock to me and my family and we owe you this at least.”

“You don’t owe me anything Ale.”

“I do, you gave up so much of your time watching me playing football, all those nights you stayed with me in hospital and then you’ve been the brunt of all my mood swings.”

“I did it because I love you.”

“And I love you so let me do this for you now.” Ale slipped out of her seat before gently sitting on your lap. “You know one day we’ll have both our families together, little ones running around and we won’t be the guests anymore. Consider this the first step in that, I don’t want to spend Christmas apart from you any longer, I’ve done that for four years and that’s long enough.”

“You’re a good persuader Miss Putellas.” She was getting to you and the smirk on her face said she knew that as her fingers gently dragged back and forth on your exposed collar bone.

“Please, I won’t be able to celebrate if I know you’re here all alone.”

“I’m calling your mum tomorrow and double checking this is alright with her.”

“Is that a yes?”

Reaching up you gently grabbed her chin to draw your eyes together. “Yes Ale, I’d love to spend Christmas with you.” The only way to seal the deal was with a kiss which you almost immediately pulled away from as a thought came into your head. “I need a full list of who will be there so I can add them to the Christmas present list.”

“Babe I’ve already started just putting both our names on them.”

“Really?”

“Well the shit ones I just put your names on.”

“Very funny.”

Moments like these cemented how much you loved the woman on your lap, throughout all the moments her newfound fame had given her she was still your Ale. As your lips gently caressed each other’s you thought of the perfect way to thank her for all of this to truly show how much you loved her and thankfully you knew exactly how you could do that.

….

Christmas with the Putellas family was definitely an experience. You knew how much Eli loved being a host and that showed on Christmas day.

From the beginning you were made to feel just as much a part of the family as Alba and Alexia: from the stocking embroidered with your name on to the heap of presents for you. It almost made you emotional thinking about the family that you had gained from your love for the Spaniard.

The day however only grew from there with family member after family member being welcomed into the house. Even though you had met everyone before it was still quite overwhelming so you tried to help Eli as much as possible in the kitchen. Cooking was definitely your other passion away from football and it helped you to forget about all the craziness going in the other room.

“How is my favourite daughter finding today?” Eli asked as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder before dropping down into a whisper. “Have you got a plan yet?”

Before you could even answer though another voice piped in. “Wow mama you could at least pretend not to have favourites.”

You loved Alba like a sister and you knew she was only joking, further shown as she joined you in a group hug. “Alba is just jealous.”

“No me and Alexia always knew you was the favourite. Alexia sent me to get you by the way, we’re playing games with the children.”

“Tell her I’m helping mama.”

“No you go.” Eli almost pushed you out, giving you her best authoritative look. “You’ve helped me more than enough today.”

“I’ll be back.” You promised.

The living room was far from the quiet serenity of the kitchen, both the sofas were filled with extended family, children were scattered across the carpet playing all sorts of different games and you found your girlfriend on the armchair trying to work out the latest game they wanted to play. You couldn’t help but watch as she tried to answer the questions of her young cousins all whilst looking incredible in the black blazer set she’d settled on, a stark contrast to your red dress. Your thoughts were interrupted though as Alba bumped your shoulder knocking you out of the daydream.

“Having a bit of trouble there.” You teased taking a seat on the arm of the chair. “These are supposed to be for children you know.”

“Shut up.” With one arm still holding onto the instructions the other tugged your waist causing you to slide down the arm of the chair onto her lap. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to the top of her head as she still tried to wrap her mind around the game.

“How about I do the next game?” You announced getting the attention of all the kids. “Count to twenty and I’ll be back.”

Scrambling to go to your backs you left in Alexia’s old room you found the parcel in your overnight bag ready for this exact scenario. Coming empty handed was never an option for you.

“Here it is.” You announced getting everyone’s attention. “Who wants to play pass the parcel?”

Your suggestion was met with a round of cheers as everyone got into a circle to include all the adults on the sofas. Taking a seat on the floor you were ready to start when one of Alexia’s cousins, Ana, sat down on your lap. Your arms instantly wrapped around the young girl as you started the music, each time letting the girl pass the parcel on to Alexia.

“Why did you not sit with me?” Alexia asked Ana dangling her hand over the chair to tickle the girl, pouting to feign her hurt.  

“Want Auntie Y/N.” Even just her calling you Auntie made your heart skip a beat, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to now call these people your family.

“Yeah Auntie Ale.” You teased sticking your tongue out.

“She’s my favourite too.” Ale admitted to the little girl, faking a whisper. “Don’t tell her than though.”

“Secret.” The little girl whispered, thinking this was a real secret even though you could obviously hear both of them.

“Yeah keep it a secret.”

“What are you two talking about?” You asked gaining the attention of Ana who simply curled back into your lap.

“Nothing.” She answered. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Alexia couldn’t help but just look the at the two of you together. Your attention split between a conversation with her uncle and trying to soothe the girl in your lap.

“You’re so whipped.” Alba whispered teasingly into her sister’s ear. “Stop staring.”

“Shut up Alba.”

…..

Your moment didn’t come till after the meal had finished and everyone was still sat around talking. Alexia was curled up on the chair next to you, both of your hands intertwined on your lap as you mixed with everyone. But the box in your bag upstairs could no longer be ignored and now felt like the moment.

“I’m just nipping to the bathroom,” You whispered to Ale before slipping out the room.

Quickly refreshing yourself in the bathroom before retrieving the little box hidden in your overnight bag. You’ve played in front of nearly one hundred thousand people in your career but this is the most nervous you’ve felt before.

You couldn’t stop your hands from shaking as you slowly made your way into the dining room again. Stopping behind Ale’s chair your hands rested on her shoulders as you cleared your throat to gain the attention of the room, all eyes suddenly focused on you.

“Sorry for interrupting all your conversations but I just wanted to say something in front of you all. Firstly I want to thank you for today, you’ve all welcomed me into your family and took me in as one of your own. To Eli, thank you for being an amazing host and for the amazing food.”

“Which you helped with.” She pointed out. “We’ve all loved having you here, plus Ale would have spent the whole day being miserable without you.”

“Whining even more than usual.” Alba teased her sister.

“As you all know I’ve been with Ale for more than four years now and they’ve been the best of my life.” You started, Alexia turning to face you. “We’ve been through more struggles than anyone will know, with injuries and the pressures of being who we are but we’ve always had each other and I know I wouldn’t have come this far without you by my side.”

“What’s all this for?” Alexia asked.

You ignored her question to continue. “You’re my best friend. I love everything about you even when you keep me awake snoring at night or when you burn my toast in the morning. You’re always the first to offer to give me a massage after a match, you always remember my green tea in the morning but more than that you make me feel more loved than I’ve ever felt before.”

The realisation of what was slowly happening was dawning on Alexia as tears streamed down her face.

“I’d love nothing more than to have the rest of my life to continue to show you how much you mean to me and stand by your side to share every moment together.” You said, slowly getting down on one knee, opening the box to reveal the ring you’d chosen. “So Alexia Putellas Segura, will you do me the greatest honour and be my wife?”

“Yes, yes of course I will.” Immediately shooting out of her chair she wasted no time in gathering you in her arms, spinning you around in the air. “I love you so much.” She whispered, planting you back down on the floor to kiss you.

“I love you too. I hope you like the ring.”

“It’s perfect. Everything you choose is perfect.” Taking the simple but elegant diamond ring in your hand you slid it onto her finger like a glove.

It’s only then that you realise you’re not alone in the room, both of your eyes immediately turning to Eli and Alba. Tears uncontrollable streaming down their faces as they gathered you in a group hug.

“I’m so happy for you both.” Eli whispered, kissing both of your heads. “No-one deserves this more than you two.”

“You’re both made for each other.” Alba added, first hugging you as Eli took Alexia in her arms. “That ring as well, wow.”

“You should thank Eli for that as well.” You admitted as you swapped to get your hug from Eli. “I can’t take all the credit for that.”

“You knew?”  Alexia turned to the both of you.

“Y/N came to me a few months ago and asked for my permission which I of course gave her. I didn’t know she as planning on doing it tonight though.”

“It just felt right.” You admitted. “All your family here and we both love Christmas. Of course I’d love to have met your father and ask him but I felt this was only right.”

That again set Alexia off as the tears started again. “I love you.”

“I love you too my fiancée.” Bringing her into your arms the cheers started as you sealed it with another kiss. “Forever.”

“Forever with you.”

[chuuyadelune]

now that i have recovered from the emotional shock of seeing *that* akutagawa scene from chapter 88 animated in HD 4K (i thought i’d have another week to emotionally prepare myself LMAO), i just wanna be a little bit of a nerd and say that i really liked the cinematography/composition this episode.

in particular, i really enjoyed the anime’s decision to draw visual parallels between this fight and previous fights (in particular, the fight against francis, which is important because it is the first time they worked together).

after all, this fight is the culmination of everything they’ve done together. from the combining of their abilities, coming to an understanding with each other, realising the potential of beast-beneath the moonlight-rashoumon… bringing back similar shots that were used in previous fights is SUPER effective at highlighting the parallels and how far they’ve come, in my humble opinion.

here are a few things i noticed:

- first of all, both of them activating their abilities one after another is an explicit nod to S2’s fight;

- the confrontation/conversation in the hallway from S2 (to an extent! they’re on the same sides, which caught my eye);

- akutagawa blowing up the engine room on the ship, and kyouka doing the same during the first fight between him and atsushi (S1);

- and a similar angle being used for black tiger claws / koukko zessou as a nod to the fight in the S3 finale.

the parallels — though maybe less explicit, *are* still there in the manga? like, the entire “structure” of the fight so to speak is very similar to the francis fight in S2 — akutagawa finding atsushi, taking place on a(n air)ship, breaking away from the fight to strategise before confronting the final boss (then, francis, and now, fukuchi) is undeniably a nod to that fight? i love that this is given its due in the anime as well.

another thing about the cinematography this episode i loved was them using the clock as being the indicator of fukuchi’s fuckass space-time sword doing its thing. that was a really nice touch, in my opinion; the cuts in between were jarring and disorienting and really helped put us into sskk’s shoes.

and as for the background design alongside the clock itself — there were a couple of things about them i enjoyed:

- the number of floors / levels of the ship in the back (5, as a nod to the five ways an angel decays, the DOA)

- the blue of the clock is meant to be reminiscent of fukuchi’s sword, i’d argue, with the way both of them pops out of the sunset/orangey-red lighting

- the clock’s design being super ornate and gold plated reminds me a *bit* of a tabernacle (where they keep unused eucharist in a church) — and thus brings up connotations of sacrifice. that white bridge-thing beneath the clock as well reminds me a lot of an altar, too (see the image above the last to see what exactly i’m referring to, because image limit)

okay, yeah, that one might be a bit of a stretch, sure. but its placement as being above them, combined with the two tables/boxes to the left and right of the ship’s bow (which looks very much like a cross, btw) gives it a distinctly religious, altar-kinda feel, i’d argue. and crosses have been used in S4 as symbolism as well!

(tbh, there could even be a bit more imagery i’m missing, because — the angels of the DOA refers specifically to the buddhist conception of an angel. i’m not too familiar with buddhist imagery, but i thought that this was worth pointing out regardless!)

the last thing i want to say is that the red and blue symbolism went CRAZY this episode. i don’t have much else to say because it was super obvious — they even reused the same “black tiger claws” shot from S3, after all — but i do wanna point out that the symbolism even went into the carpets. the fucking carpets.

like, the shift: it’s red when akutagawa’s leading the conversation but changes to blue after atsushi’s suggesting of the submersible as a strategy? i mean, i don’t know if this (or anything i’ve said, to be fair) was intentional or not, but it’s a cool detail anyway!

personally, i enjoyed this episode, the action was great, and all of this too was a really neat addition as well! and now… uh. we wait for the chaos to get worse i suppose !? (laughs nervously)

[autumnalfallingleaves]

Question, in the first few chapters on WondLa, before Rovee gave Eva the translator, were you able to decode what Besteel and Rovee were saying? I’m still having a hard time trying to figure out what they’re saying. Still wondering what Shee-na means.

*spreads arms dramatically* My time has come.

Lmao. I love conlangs, so I've definitely tried to translate the non-human dialogue a couple times over the years, so I'll give it my best shot!

First, I think "shee-na" probably means "quiet" or a variation thereof, given that Rovender makes a shushing motion when saying that. As for book dialogue:

"'Ovanda say tateel?'" (pg. 69, Rovender)

Likely "What are you doing?" I'd be inclined to translate as "Who/what are you?" instead if not for the fact that Rovender says this same thing to Eva when she's hiding under Otto on pg. 94. They're sort of familiar with each other at this point, so it doesn't make any sense to ask who she is again.

"'Daff effu Cærulean?'" (pg. 77, Besteel)

Possibly something along the lines of a snarky greeting, or "What are you doing, Cærulean?", or even "We meet again, Cærulean?". From context clues, I'd say Besteel and Rovender have crossed paths before (they seem slightly familiar with each other; Besteel knows Rovender by name) and have a history of not liking the other/Rovender keeps messing with Besteel. This is also why I'd posit a snarky greeting.

"'Tuda neem,'" (pg. 82, Besteel)

"Don't worry," meant in an extremely worrying fashion.

"'Kap und gabbo.... Ta, broog iffa yu nabba,'" (pg. 83, Besteel)

Context seems to suggest "ta" is "yes" in the common Orbonian language. The whole thing is perhaps "You can't escape [or you are scared].... Yes, you will be perfect [or: you will live]," possibly as a reference to his mission to capture specimans to free Redimus.

"'Oeeah. Te banga nee peezil,'" (pg. 83, Rovender)

"Oeeah" is an exclamation, so has no translation. Possibly "see what he's doing there"?

"'Dot, dat.'" (pg. 83, Rovender)

"Stop, no." "Dat" appears to be "no".

"'Peesa van shuuzu,'" (pg. 84, Rovender)

"Going up is the only way out"; "peesa" is "up".

"'Ta! Ta! [...] Peesa.'" (pg. 84, Rovender)

"Yes! Yes! [...] Up."

"'Pra! Dooma boffa!'" (pg. 85, Besteel)

"Back! Stupid animal!" (translation note: what an asshole)

"'Dat, dat, dat. [...] Te,'" (pg. 85, Rovender)

"No, no, no. [...] There,'"

"'Tasha, zaata,'" (pg. 87, Rovender)

"Alright, go,"; "zaata" is "go".

"'Bluh, sizzu feezi,'" (pg. 88, Rovender)

"Bluh" is an exclamation and has no translation. "Feezi" means "nymph"; this seems to be a word Orbonians-- or at least Cæruleans and/or Halcyonus-- use for children. Eva is referred to as "the nymph" and-- I believe-- "the nymph of the forest" and, in the 200 years later epilogue, the language blend of English and the common Orbonian language gives us "'Feezi, known as Eva'", providing a direct translation. This whole phrase, then, could be "Bluh, ridiculous nymph."

"'Feezi meed! [...] Ya battee meer de hagrim Ruzender. Wha seesha?'" (pg. 88, Besteel)

"The nymph is gone! [...] You're to blame for this, Rovender. Where is she?"

"'Grazeet! [...] Zaata! Zaata! Zaata!'" (pg. 90, Rovender)

"Move! [...] Go! Go! Go!"

"'Nassa Ruzender Keet!'" (pg. 92, Besteel)

"Goddamn [or Orbonian equivalent curse word] Rovender Kitt!"

"'Tista baffa fooh!'" (pg. 94, Besteel)

"Get back here!"

"'Gabu Baasteel!'" (pg. 94, Rovender)

"[insert Orbonian curse word] Besteel!"

"'Feezi! [...] Zaata! Zaata!'" (pg. 96, Rovender)

"Nymph! [...] Go! Go!"

"'Dat, dat, dat, [...] Feezi zaata. [...] Ruzender zaata.'" (pg. 96, Rovender)

"No, no, no. [...] Nymph go. [...] Rovender go." Sentence and grammatical structure are likely heavily simplified due to neither of them being able to understand one another and Rovender being like "what is the most simple thing this weird kid could understand"

"'Grasset de fugill Ruzender!'" (pg. 97, Besteel)

"You're dead, Rovender!"

"'Ewa seetha tadasha,'" (pg. 99, Rovender)

"That was exciting," said by someone who wishes this never happened.

"'Ta! Feezi!'" (pg. 99, Rovender)

"Yes! Nymph!"

"'Zuzu, zuzu,'" (pg. 100, Rovender)

"Wait, wait,"

"'Kip! Kip!'" (pg. 100, Rovender)

"Talk! Talk!" The transcoder later has Rovender say "Tes, continue kipping" as it calibrates, so "kip" is probably "talk".

"'Dat, dat, dat, feezi, [...] Doot, doot, ba kip!'" (pg. 100, Rovender)

"No, no, no, nymph, [...] Closer, closer, and talk!"

"'Dat, [...] Peesa tobondi feezi, ta kipli.'" (pg. 101, Rovender)

"No, [...] Keep it up close, nymph, and talk."

"'Zazig. I try to peebla foo,'" (pg. 101, Rovender)

"Sort of. I try to make it easier,"

"'If you do, [...] you hret graaveem my speech.'" (pg. 102, Rovender)

"If you do, [...] you understand my speech."

I think that's all the Orbonian language we get; I hope this helps! :)

[shoechoe]

Hiiii attacking your ask box while I procrastinate 😛

So regarding Passione’s structure: Been doing a lot of reading lately on the mafia and have found that interestingly, the Neapolitan mafia is generally much more fragmented than other mafias in Italy, particularly the Sicilian and Calabrian mafias (the Cosa Nostra and ‘Ndrangheta respectively).

That is to say, the “boss of bosses” model seen in other mafias is not really present in Calabria and Naples, where the gangs are instead smaller and more numerous, controlling many minor sectors of criminal society instead of one broad huge, organization blanketing massive swathes of the land.

This makes me think about the odd way that Passione’s hierarchy is illustrated when we’re being given exposition about it in the story. Although Passione is depicted as this pervasive, all-powerful thing, it seems to be very horizontally organized overall, which makes me wonder: Is Passione a singular gang, or is it meant to be more of a replacement for the Camorra in the story altogether, i.e. a loose coalition of clans operating broadly under the same roof, but generally independent from one another?

Or is it some weird mix of both? Each “squad” seems more like its own distinct thing than a unified part of a larger whole given all of the infighting, but everyone ultimately takes orders from Diavolo anyway. I wonder if the Camorra also still exists in this universe, parallel to Passione…

The structure of Passione seems to be rather lacking in middlemen altogether: there aren’t many “tiers” of it to climb. There’s the grunts, then squad leaders like Bruno or Risotto, then caporegimes like Polpo, and then directly above that is Doppio+Diavolo.

The structure at the top is definitely fucked backwards no matter which way you look at it because Doppio/Diavolo is his own boss and his own henchman at the same time and he doesn’t seem to have a consigliere or any other personal advisers—just his personal guard, who seem to mostly just be… hitmen? There doesn’t seem to be much evidence that Cioccolata, Squalo and Tiziano et al. conduct much business for the gang. They’re just… attack dogs, I guess ?

(To note, the official illustration of Passione’s hierarchy says that the position that belongs to Doppio should be a consigliere, but this is more of a non-combative, lawerly, legal-counsel type role which is something that Doppio appears by all accounts to be woefully inadequate for, so this doesn’t really make sense.)

There’s also oddly not much mention of blood relatives within Passione: I don’t think we hear of any gangster characters who are actually related to one another, which is highly unusual for the mafia. Is it because near everyone seems to be a stand user, save bottom-tier lackeys like Luca? Do they put less stock into blood relations in Passione because of this (and maybe also because of the boss discouraging such things)? Do they skip over most of the formalities of being “made” because they find the stand arrow test to serve as a sufficient initiation? This is the stuff that keeps me up at night.

That is some very interesting real-life context. The only gang I've read a book on so far is Cosa Nostra, but organized crime in Italy definitely goes beyond that and varies from mob to mob. Personally, I doubt there was too much thought put into how Passione replaces the real-life mob structures in Italy; Araki was probably just thinking "media-like depiction of an Italian mob" and didn't pour himself into study of real-life mob structures or anything.

I always kind of assumed other gangs were practically irrelevant, since conflicts with other gangs are never mentioned and Passione seems to be so powerful that it's basically the "main" mob in Italy due to its high concentration of Stand users and monopoly on the drug trade. (Though Purple Haze Feedback isn't canon, it does make a point that Passione is powerful beyond powerful in terms of mobs with Giorno in charge.) Though, there really isn't enough info given to tell, just like a lot of things with the mob in VA, lol.

I have also noticed the whole "consigliere" deal before- I made a post about it some time ago. Personally I get the feeling that VA was just using "consigliere" functionally as a synonym for "underboss", since they mention a "right-hand man" in the structure. It's a little annoying and inaccurate, but what can you do?

The lack of family dynamics playing a role is definitely something I noticed Passione strongly breaks away from real-life mobs in. The concept of family is extremely important in most real-life Italian mobs, with gang higher-ups often operating within families and successors being sons of the boss. Passione, on the other hand, seems to have absolutely none of this.

This also makes Diavolo's hatred and avoidance of family really interesting, and indeed, what causes Vento Aureo's attempts to have Passione mimic a "typical mob structure" come out extremely broken. There is nobody planned to take over if something happens to Diavolo because Doppio is his underboss (who wouldn't work as a successor for obvious reasons) and he cut off all potential family and connections to people besides himself. I guess that just goes to show Diavolo's sheer confidence in himself and his distrust of anybody else that might replace him. He also might have just truly not given a shit about what will happen to his empire after he dies.

Passione is, in my opinion, a pretty simplistic idea of a mob. It's written just enough to get a vague idea of what it's like and also to get the plot working, but upon further inspection, you really realize just how vague it is as an organization. It makes me want a prequel to see how Diavolo started all of it even more lol.

[ink-flavored]

Purgatory

BTS Series: ⬅ Table of Contents Also available on Neocities! P&J Taglist (Check out my Google form to get added): @elegant-paper-collection @auroblaze@zeenimf @vacantgodling @foxys-fantasy-tales Banner art by @auroblaze

Traditionally in Christianity, Purgatory isn’t a place, like pop culture depicts. It’s actually a “cleansing ritual” that some people have to go through to be worthy of Heaven. Sometimes it involves literally being cleansed in fire! However, I’m going with the more pop-culture-y depiction of Purgatory because it better fits the tone of the story, and allows me to do a little more sociopolitical commentary. Which I love, and will always do. Anyway, here it is!

The Structure of Purgatory

In the quilt of the universe, Purgatory is a fascinating square. It holds a mirror to Earth, reflecting it as a plain, unchanging, eerie dreamworld. There are things that look familiar to the souls that wander there, but with a distinct alien veneer that reminds them they are not in the same place they left.

Souls who aren’t worthy of Heaven, but aren’t sinful enough to be sent to Hell, are prescribed time to think and to repent in Purgatory. God gives them a second chance after death to reconcile their sin, and once they’ve atoned to His satisfaction, they’re permitted to take their place in paradise. Those that aren’t forgiven wander until their souls eventually fade to Hell.

Those wandering Purgatory cannot enter or exit of their own volition. The process of forgiveness or fading can take centuries. Hundreds of years of circling in the same empty plane with other souls, just as aimless. Simply put, Purgatory is a holding cell, for those souls who have nowhere else to go.

Wandering Souls

Though they certainly can, the immortal beings of other realms rarely appear in Purgatory. Angels and demons can travel in and out whenever they wish, but angels appear only to bring souls there or relieve others of their roaming, and demons have little use for souls that can’t be further corrupted. The souls of Purgatory have very little company outside each other.

The souls that wander are given little direction as to how they’re meant to appropriately repent. They have not broken their relationship with God, they’re assured, only injured it, and that injury can be repaired with time and atonement. However, many souls in Purgatory are confused as to why they’re even supposed to be repenting. Lying, gossiping, drinking to excess, failure to pray, and suicide are all on the list of venial sins that these lonely souls are meant to be making amends for.

For those confused, they have plenty of time to work through the feeling. Souls in Purgatory are meant to consider their mistakes in life, atone for them, and God would recognize the way they’ve held themselves accountable and offer forgiveness. Eventually.

Some souls, though, become frustrated. Some felt their sin was unavoidable, some felt they didn’t have a choice. Some had no idea they were sinning in the first place, they thought they were doing the right thing. It’s difficult for many souls to capitulate to a God they had never believed in, or to apologize for something they couldn’t have averted.

But even among those that atone as best they can, the resounding silence from above becomes disheartening indeed. After centuries and centuries of wandering, plenty expect that they’ll never be forgiven, no matter how long or how many times they repent. When the angels appear to usher the scant few forgiven souls to Heaven, leaving countless others behind, the demoralization drives them deeper and deeper into despair.

Forgiveness and Fading

The process of being forgiven is, in writing, very simple. Once God has decided a soul wandering Purgatory has repented to His satisfaction, He orders an angel to bring them to Heaven.

In practice, the qualifiers for “satisfactory repentance” are vague. The criteria for one soul might be wildly different from another, regardless of their sin. Some are waiting for a short amount of time compared to the souls that wander the longest, and there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to which souls are accepted and which aren’t. God seems more determined than ever to smoke out the unworthy, and the length of time it takes for any one soul to reach forgiveness stretches far longer than many of Heaven’s agents think is justified—though these angels are wise enough not to voice their criticisms.

Part of the unspoken concern lies in the fact that souls in Purgatory don’t stay there for eternity. The longer they sit, the more they despair, the closer they are to giving up on the chance of being forgiven altogether. Many don’t see a point, after waiting for so long. God had abandoned them, left them to rot and tread the same ground over and over, waiting for a forgiveness that would never come. When these souls turn their backs on Heaven, there is only one place for them to go.

Hell doesn’t “claim” souls from Purgatory. Demons aren’t sent up to collect them, and it’s not as though the souls from Purgatory are itching for damnation. Instead, God watches these souls slip farther from forgiveness, and eventually He lets them go. Like a fishing line, He stops reeling them in, and releases them to the depths.

And though Hell doesn’t necessarily gather up these lost souls on purpose, Lucifer will accept them happily. After all, what better way to motivate his army than with more fodder to be made an example of? What better way to show them how pointless God’s plans are, than with the very souls He claimed to love so much, abandoned at their doorstep? The constant churning of Purgatory’s lost souls are the perfect talking point—remember how much God loved His creations? This is what He thinks of them now. The only option becomes overthrowing Heaven, and proving themselves righteous.

The angels in Heaven who are brave or foolish enough to speak of this problem openly, do so in whispers. They wonder why God is so concerned with keeping out every soul with even a sliver of impurity. They wonder why so few souls get brought up from Purgatory these days, and even if they do, why they stay there for so long. They worry about innocent souls going to Hell under their watch, suffering needlessly for the sake of holy paranoia.

And then they’re decisively hushed, for fear of joining the unholy ranks.

There it is! Those of you who read Justice’s backstory on Tumblr might have found some of this familiar.

I’m not sure how much of all this lore, from Heaven on downwards, will make it into the full story, but I’m glad I got to share it with all of you to make sure someone other than me gets to hear my thoughts!

Thanks as always for your support!

— Annika

[cartoonrival]

👀Kirishima popular with men and not boruto uglified unhappy married with a woman? Fuck everything else i won(ill take this crumb i was so scared 💀)and my girlss momo, mina, jiro, tsuyu and specially ochaco my fav <3 love seeing them doing ok this is my win, bkdks can have whatever they want idgaf if the girls, some others charas. and my token gay kr (beloved)implied are ok. The rest is to much to unpack i pretend i do not see it atleast it could have been worse, what did you think rival?

honestly i’m really happy with it! i’m really happy that you can tell horikoshi was losing interest in including the obligatory romance and he actually followed through with having uraraka and deku both move on from it, but at the same time in the penultimate chapter they still hugged without it reading as confirmation that they’re in love or whatever. made me happy!! even ships that seemed plausible and like hori was leaning towards them (kamijirou for example, which i actually think is rly cute) weren’t explicitly “confirmed” and i think that’s really refreshing. for such a quintessential shounen manga to move away from the obligatory romance is really dope to me as someone who loves shounen but hates obligatory romance, lol.

especially having just watched naruto, where kishimoto clearly thinks that a person cannot be considered “fulfilled and successful” if they’re not married, despite that not being relevant to the plot up to that point at all, it makes me happy to see hori not falling in the same pitfall. id say the bar is on the floor but it happens literally so often that it’s a genre staple so i think it actually is deserving of a little credit that he moved away from it so completely.

kirishima is gay ☝️ this i know. everyone has known this forever. he’s always been coded gay. it’s one of those situations where whether hori meant it or not (i lowkey find it hard to believe he didn’t recognize what he was doing) it is true, and a hero popular with men is the nail in the proverbial rainbow coffin. i was also glad that he got an aside becuz he’s been sort of left behind by the focus of the story for quite a while it seemed like hori had forgotten that he was such a key player for a while in the middle, so even though i’m still sad his relationship with bakugou was all but forgotten he did still get a nod at the end that most other characters didn’t get.

REALLY LOVE THAT MIRIO IS THE NEW NUMBER ONE AND NOT BAKUGOU. because mirio is literally more talented than him.

pissed about deku getting that tech that lets him be a hero again. i think honestly with the theme of not all people are created equal but we must love and support each other and find our niches nonetheless, it kind of loses its punch of deku to just. have a quirk still essentially. i thought him losing it was dope, and for him to remain the greatest hero of all time but have to pass on the torch because his time in the spotlight was over, whether it was luck or hard work he couldn’t stay a hero forever. because when it comes down to it he was born quirkless, and actually that’s okay, because he still has knowledge and talent and love to offer the world and he still has friends who love him. but whatever. tch

even though they didn’t go through with it, i really loved that all might was the one to suggest eliminating the popularity aspect of the hero chart completely. i think it really demonstrated how much HE has also grown over the course of the series, what he has learned and how his values have changed. i honestly think that would’ve been a better conclusion than whatever mixed bag thing hawks was setting up but it’s whatever. i think more structural changes are necessary and there should’ve been more explicit exploration into what those would look like imo, rather than just “people are nicer now cuz deku inspired them to be nice”. it’s not that it’s BAD because ultimately the structural issues of bnha’s world stemmed from social attitudes, and if those attitudes changed then that’s the first step to uplifting people born with scary or unusual quirks or born as heteromorphs, but at the same time it doesn’t give you the feeling that this peace is going to last.

LOVED DEKU’S FINAL CONVERSATION WITH SPINNER. I LOVE SPINNER AND I LOVE HIS WHOLEHEARTED LOVE AND DEDICATION TO SHIGARAKI AND I LOVED THE FOCUS HE GOT AT THE STORY’S TAIL END AND SEEING HIS REACTIONS TO HOW SHIKAGRAKI WAS CHANGING UNDER ALL FOR ONES INFLUENCE

anyways not perfect by any means, but i’m happy with it ^_^ horikoshi bit off a lot and i think i’m okay with how he decided to tie it off. i think platonic bakudeku is fun and interesting but i think it was better when it was bakugou crying suddenly cuz he thought he’d never be able to compete with deku again since he lost his quirk. if deku gets his quirk back it’s like okay. whatever. would’ve liked to see him continue to respect deku when he was quirkless again. but it’s fine. i still maintain that ppl who think they’re romantically involved don’t get it at all

[theunbonded]

10

Hazel eyes bore into the back of my skull. I didn’t dare turn around and flip him off in the middle of Battle Brief. Instead, I kept my attention on my notes.

I still sat with my squad, but I kept a barrier between us. Clipped responses to questions, declining extra study sessions, avoiding their pitying glances. It wasn’t completely out of the norm for me, and they didn’t press for more.

It made it easier as I watched them all develop the smaller magic. As I watched them all discover their signet powers.

As soon as class ended, I threw my belongings into my bag and made to leave. Sawyer opened his mouth to say something but I shoved past him into the aisle of the auditorium. He had tried for the past couple of weeks to get my attention. I just couldn’t do it.

I had made it into the hallway and almost out of the building before my arm was grabbed and I was pulled behind one of the giant pillars holding up Basgiath’s stone structures.

“Missed me?” I asked Garrick Tavis, but my voice didn’t have its usual bite.

“You haven’t shown up to our training sessions in weeks,” he hissed, keeping his voice low.

“Didn’t realize you were waiting for me to show up.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay after everything that happened.” His grip on my forearm tightened. We both glanced down at it, having forgotten about where his body still touched mine, and he slowly released his grip. 

“I’m fine, Tavis.”

The corner of Garrick’s mouth turned upwards. “Back to the last names?”

“Are we done here? I have things to do.” I attempted to push past him, but he put his arm up, blocking my exit.

“Beatrice.” He said my name as if it was a reverent prayer, low and quiet just for my ears like I was the only god he prayed to. A flush of heat snaked its way up my spine and across my chest.

“I’m okay.” All of my bravado disappeared around him. He had pulled me out of the water, sputtering and gagging around the lake water in my throat, and flew us back to Basgiath in the early morning. He had seen the aftermath of my meltdown and still wanted to come check on me. “I feel lost and I’m struggling to refind my place here, but I’m figuring it out day by day.”

“I heard they assigned you to deliver Markham’s reports to the infantry quadrant. They’re not giving you any trouble, right?” His tone promised death if they were.

“No.” It had actually become the highlight of my day. Lidia and Divya gave me hell each time I crossed the bridge, their taunts and teasing a respite from the stifling walls of the rider’s quadrant. They didn’t look at me with pity or think that I was less than them; I was a worthy opponent. Our verbal spars were the only times I could feel normal. 

It was messed up that those were my breaks from being an Unbonded. 

“Good.” Garrick lifted his hand. Slowly swiped his fingers across my brow, brushing a flyway curl behind my ear. “Come back to training with me.”

I swallowed. Hard. Then took a step back. His hand wavered in the air before he placed it back at his side. “I can’t.”

“It’s okay. I can wait.” For some reason, I don’t think he meant just for training.

I stepped around him, and this time he let me. In the narrow corridor, my chest grazed against his. Still so warm. Still the same sharp scent of eucalyptus. 

Still those two swords strapped against his back.

“You can do me a favor though.” I turned back around on my heel, leaving little room between us. “The shortswords that are regulation in the infantry, could you get me one?”

Garrick stilled. “Why would I be able to get it for you?”

“You have two impressive swords of your own. I’m assuming you know how to get other ones.”

He shook off whatever had come over him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

⤧⤧⤧

Lidia and Divya were leaning against the wall when I approached, gossiping about something. Divya was waving her hands wildly in the air, and Lidia was laughing at whatever she was saying. They kicked themselves up to meet me halfway. 

“Don’t stop on my behalf,” I said, throwing Lidia the satchel. 

She caught it with one hand. “Wish you weren’t in that stuck-up riders quadrant?” 

“Wish you had the balls to even try?”

Divya laughed. The sound was musical, the sounds like the keys of the piano I used to play in my father’s parlor, warm and resonant. It was more carefree than anything I had heard as a rider. “Yeah, sure. I’m quite happy not being eaten by a dragon, thank you very much.”

I shrugged. “Can’t blame you. They’re scary as hell.”

Lidia cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that, like, sacreligious for riders? To talk bad about the dragons?”

“I’m sure they talk bad about us too.”

“You don’t know for certain?” Divya crossed her arms.

“Aren’t you all supposed to be buddy-buddy with your dragons by now?” Lidia copied the motion.

I became the third in a circle of girls crossing their arms. “You guys are smarter than you look.”

“Don’t get fooled by our looks, Beatrice.” Divya flipped her silky, long hair over her shoulder.

Lidia cocked a smile, but nodded her head at me to continue. She wasn’t going to let me off the hook that easily. 

“I didn’t bond this year,” I explained. It was my first time saying it out loud to anyone besides Garrick. It made it feel much more… real.

“Which means no dragon, right?” Divya asked, and I cringed at her wording.

“Yes.”

The two girls looked at each other, then shrugged. “That must suck.”

“Understatement of the year,” I muttered under my breath.

“Doesn’t mean much on this side of the bridge,” Lidia said. “Just puts you on the same playing field as the rest of us.”

“About that.” I reached behind me and gripped the hilt of the short sword Garrick had left on my bed last night. There had been no note, but I knew it was from him. It was light in my hands as I brought it in front of me. “I need help using this.”

“You want us to help you?”

“The person I was learning from wielded much longer blades. I want to learn how to use the shortsword. Since you all are required to use them, you’re my best bet. Plus you are more equipped for ground combat. Whatever is in your rucksack, I want to know”

The others in my year had begun flight training. Leaving me hours of free time the professors couldn’t fill. Leaving me in the sparring gym, thinking how vulnerable I was compared to whatever lurked on land. I never thought I would be grounded, and like a dog with a bone, I wouldn't stop until I felt prepared. It was the one part of myself that I could depend on.  

“And what do we get from this arrangement?” Lidia asked, already assessing how I was holding the sword in front of me.

I nodded my head towards where the Parapet loomed in the distance. “I’ll help you get your legs underneath you in the air.”

The two girls shared a glance.

“Our courtyard is empty at night,” Divya began to explain. “Beat us both in a spar. Then we’ll consider it.”

“And don’t get your hopes up. We’re the best in our year.” That wicked grin from Lidia. 

“Deal.” I stuck my hand out, and the two girls each shook it. “Bring your swords. I’ll want to start right away.”

They both rolled their eyes.

But that night, they brought their swords, and both walked away with bruised ribs and swollen jaws. Nothing but a scratch on my face marred my skin as they used each other as dummies to teach me how best to approach an opponent with the shortsword. 

We met again the next night.

And again.

And again.

--

Masterlist

[gffa]

The problem with trying to make Ahsoka and Dooku thematic mirrors of each other is that their shorts aren’t structured the same way. Dooku’s three shorts are all part of a larger story, each episode depends on the context of the others in these shorts themselves, they form a thematic throughline themselves. Ahsoka’s three shorts are various moments scattered across her life, each one of them is more of a stand-alone, they’re meant to be connective tissue, but they’re isolated from each other.  Ahsoka’s brutal stun bolt training doesn’t directly connect to her birth planet, it doesn’t directly connect to her time at Padme’s funeral, it doesn’t connect to her time running away from her calling. The structure of the bigger series is off, one tells a coherent story that builds on each successive short, the other tells isolated short stories.  Further, the Dooku ones are far more pivotal to Dooku’s story, while Ahsoka’s are filler because we basically have already seen her story arc, the only character arc progress she makes is when she’s on the unnamed agricultural world, and that one is so short and so lacking in detail, that even when it’s about her realizing she has to rejoin the fight, it feels like filler. I think it would have been a lot stronger if Dave had a better objectivity when it came to his faves, if Ahsoka’s three shorts had focused on her time in between The Siege of Mandalore and her re-appearance in Rebels, bookending them with her interactions with Bail Organa, at Padme’s funeral, then on the agricultural world. I really liked the one with Anakin’s training, it was the strongest of Ahsoka’s shorts, but it didn’t really progress her character and didn’t fill in any necessary empty gaps, and I think it would have been a much stronger series if Dooku’s arc had been taking him away from the path of being a Jedi, while Ahsoka’s was taking her back towards the path of the Jedi, make their stories true mirrors of each other.

[cardanapologist]

Under the Tables

I WROTE THIS BASED ON THIS POST BY @i-admit-i-am-dumb <3333333

***

Cardan watches Jude uneasily take a cup of wine from a nearby servant, nodding her head in thanks. She glances down at it with the usual frown on her face, swirling the red drink around in the cup. It’ll be her first drink of the night, while Cardan has already had 3. He’s nowhere near as drunk as he usually is at revels, choosing to bear the festivities not sober, but Jude is not a drinker like him. Instead, he watches her take small slips, wincing at the taste before setting the cup aside.

The same servant comes back up the dais and bends his head as he offers her a platter of what Jude describes as finger food, though that makes Cardan wrinkle his nose as he imagines unpleasant things.

She pushes the platter away with a small, “No thank you” and then reaches for her cup again, not so much to drink, but to busy herself so it looks like she doesn’t want meddling servants to keep offering her things just for her to reject them.

Several moments later, she catches his eye, and the scowl on her face deepens just a little bit more. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Cardan says, resting his chin delicately in his palm. He leans towards her. She’s all too far away on this dais, their throne-like chairs set several feet away from each other. He makes a mental note to amend this for next time. He should have learned of the structure of the dais and seating arrangements before this revel. It’s their first one after all. The staff didn’t know how to seat two royals on the dais.

“You clearly have something you wish to say.”

“Do I?” he replies innocently.

He takes her in silently.

She’s picked out a dark dress for tonight, though he can hardly say she had a choice. All the dresses he’s gifted her after their marriage and her return from the mortal world have been similar in darkness, but not in style. While some dresses have extra ruffles or a distinct neckline, they’re all dark shades of several colors. Maroon, navy blue, black, forest green, and his favorite dark purple.

The last one is the one she wears, a dress that comes down to her feet, her shoulders left bare, and a corset that accentuates her waist. The only thing that stands out from the dark colors is the white of her corset laces, which she may have tied a little too tightly, he thinks, judging by the way her chest rises and falls with each trembling breath.

Or, he realizes, she’s nervous.

“These revels,” he says, gesturing lazily at the crowd and orchestra, “are meant for merriment and celebration. This one in particular is intended to celebrate your return. So why then are you unhappy?”

She frowns. “I am not unhappy. I’m having a great time.”

Cardan clicks his tongue. “Liar liar. What an awful trait to have.”

She shoots him a look. “I am not lying. I really do think all this is great. I’m happy I’m not being hunted or killed or held for ransom.”

“But?”

“But what? Nothing. But nothing.”

“What makes you so uncomfortable you cannot eat or drink properly? Much less sit without fidgeting. Is it the amount of people? I assure you that was not my doing. It was all your sister. I believe she still thinks she has to make things up to you. Take it up with her.”

“It’s not that.”

“Is it the food, then? Does the magic still not allow you to enjoy our food?”

“That’s not it either.”

Cardan reaches for his cup and pointedly takes a sip. “I assure you it is not poisoned.”

Her eyes flash. “I wasn’t too concerned about being poisoned tonight. Not that you’d even notice if you were poisoned. You act the same way drunk.”

He’s grinning now. He tilts his head down so his crown falls a bit lower than his brow, which he catches quickly before it can fall to the floor. “Then what is it? And do not tell me it is nothing. Quickly tell me what it is so I can fix it immediately. Is it the music? Shall I ask them to change it? Is it the throne? I’ve already decided I need to have a word with the staff about the seating. Or is it the–”

“Cardan,” she says quickly under breath, her jaw tense, “it is nothing of concern.”

“It is,” he replies. “Tell me what it is.”

Jude’s eyes narrow, but she doesn't speak. Much to his frustration. She looks back at the crowd of dancing people and drums her fingers against her arm rests, refusing to look at him. Nervously, she tucks her hair behind her ear, revealing the gold jewelry embedded in her unusual round ears, matching the delicate gold chains around her faux horns. She’s made them extra tight today it seems. Usually, by the end of the day, her hair is beginning to unravel, but not today. Everything about her is impeccable, unruffled.

She looks every bit like the Queen.

And yet she twists her fingers anxiously and keeps switching from crossing her legs to crossing her ankles, to leaving her feet flat against the floor.

He will not tolerate it. One night off is what she deserves.

Cardan suddenly stands, making several revel goers glance at him cautiously. A few stop dancing, stepping away from the dais to give him room. Jude slants a look at Cardan and narrows her eyes again.

He holds his hand out. “Come. We’ll dance.”

“What?” she hisses. “Now?”

“Yes. Now.”

“Way to do this in front of everyone. Now I can’t even say no.”

“I do not think you’d want to say no to your husband anyways. Not about a dance at least.” He smiles when she takes his hand, waiting for her to adjust her dress so she’s not tripping over it as she follows him, descending from the dais.

The music continues merrily, many revel goers taking steps back, making a path for the King and Queen. Jude ducks her head to hide her face, nearly walking into Cardan’s back when he abruptly stops in the middle of the floor. He turns back and takes her waist, but not before announcing to the dancers, “Please, do not stop. Keep the festivities alive!”

And with that command from their king, the dancers and citizens resume their dancing, stealing glances at Cardan and Jude whenever possible. 

Jude is unmoving, now staring up at him with her dagger-like eyes. He only smiles back and tightens his fingers on her waist, just below her tight corset. He tugs her closer and gently begins to sway. It takes several long seconds before her legs give way, falling into a small step pattern with him.

“This is very obviously a security hazard,” she says, looking around them now. She can’t look over his shoulder due to his height, so she chooses to look around his torso instead. “Anyone could stab you right now and be done with you.”

“I am more at a risk of my own wife doing so rather than a stranger.”

She scowls. “I’ve never actually stabbed you.”

“How many times have you threatened to?”

“Not enough.”

“As for the security,” Cardan says, sweeping her around suddenly, making her clutch onto his biceps. “You’ve done all that you could about it. There are about 10 guards at every entrance of the Palace. I’ve never felt safer, and you should feel safe too.”

“You can never be too careful,” Jude grumbles, letting his arms go. He pauses their movements and reaches for her wrists, tugging her hands so they clasp behind his neck. The movement makes her stumble closer to him, and then he returns his hands.

“Come on, wife,” he says quietly. “We’ve done this before.”

“I hated that night,” Jude replies instantly, her jaw tight, likely from the mere memory of it. But there’s a scarlet blush over her cheeks. He finds it amusing. “I’ve hated several of these revels in fact. They were always fun for everyone but rarely for Taryn and I.”

As Cardan gently moves them, he thinks back about seeing her at the previous parties. He seems to remember what she’d been doing at nearly all of them, and the realization would have struck his stomach in a nauseous way a year ago. Now, he accepts it. He’d always been watching her. It comes handy during moments like this.

He recalls the first revel he saw her at. There were talks about mortals in Elfhame, and at the first mention of the twins, he scoffed and rolled his eyes and groused about them to his friends. He’d predicted what they’d look like. He recalls telling his friends that he assumed the mortals were dull creatures, too ugly and plain to be considered things of beauty to marvel at. He imagined they had bug eyes and unnatural hair colors. He assumed they had sharp teeth and gangly limbs that made them awkward to look at. “I pity them,” he’d said to his friends who had laughed in response. “To be that ugly and stupid…it must be a nightmare. I would simply end my life.”

The night that he first saw Taryn and Jude did little to change his perception about mortals being stupid, but some cracks formed in his ideas about them all being ugly.

“Those are the twins,” Nicasia had leaned in and told him with a grimace. “They’re so plain looking. Look at their dresses.”

“What are their names?” he’d asked, staring at one of them in particular.

“Jude and Taryn. My parents said so.”

“Which one is which?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

He gave her a peculiar look. “You can’t tell? But they look so different.”

And Nicasia had given him that same look back. “They’re identical. Anyways, I do not care about which one is which. Let’s get a drink.”

They were different, Cardan recalls. Everything from their hair to their face to their dresses. They were polar opposites, and he did not learn who was who until several days later when they’d showed up to lessons, huddled with each other.

Because of Madoc’s status and role, Cardan saw the twins more often than not at the revels. When they first arrived, they looked lost like deer. Their heads whipped anxiously at every noise, trying to hide behind each other. One of them, Taryn, always managed to hide behind Jude. And they always held hands, he remembers, smiling. Their hands were always tightly clasped, making them inseparable.

Jude frowns. “What is so funny?”

“I’m recalling the previous revels.”

“Yes, because the death of your entire family must have been a fun night.”

Cardan ignores the jab. Instead, he turns them around and wraps his arms around her waist, tucking her closer. “I remember,” he says, looking over her head, “the first time you got into trouble at one of the revels. We couldn’t have been more than 12 years of age. You got separated from your sister and couldn’t find her.”

Jude’s eyes darken at the mention of that year. “Mhm.”

“And you’d asked for help to find her,” he says, unblinking, still recalling. “But you asked the wrong people. Some older kids, right? And they’d commanded you to dance instead. It took hours for someone to realize something was wrong and for your father to get you out of the dance circle.”

Jude is quiet for some time, and he blinks, glancing back at her. She has one of those infuriating expressions on, the ones he can’t read. “You knew,” she says finally. “You watched it happen.”

“I did.”

“You were very cruel for not helping.”

“I was.”

They don’t say anything after that, just swaying along with the music. Her skirts brush against his legs, but he always manages to move away before he can step on the expensive fabric of her dress and cause them both to tumble. He continues through his memories.

“For a while,” he starts up again, opting for a different memory than the bombardment of bad memories that arise in his head. Of all the times he watched and did not help. “For a while, I wondered why you and Taryn would hide under the tables.”

He feels Jude stiffen under his touch. She stops moving, frowning up at him. “What?”

“The tables,” he says. “You hid under them. For several hours sometimes. It was intriguing. I wondered why you did that. Why you chose to be away from the festivities and simply talk under the tables. What could be so important?”

He shrugs and gently steers her away from a group of kids dancing so she doesn’t fall against them. She’s staring up at him with her mouth slightly ajar.

“But I know now that with all the people messing with you, it was the only safe place. I just found it interesting. You’d be there one moment and then gone the next. Several times, I thought you managed to find a way out of the party without alarming your father, but it wasn’t until later that I saw you and Taryn crawl out from under a table that I realized it.” He smiles. “Sometimes I grew jealous. I too would have liked to be under the tables with a friend, hidden from everyone’s eyes. Once, I thought about joining you and your sister under. But by then, you weren’t particularly fond of me and I’d already made up my mind about hating you.”

He takes a breath. “You were such a strange child. Now you’re an even stranger woman. Only I’ve become used to it now, I suppose.”

Jude bites down on her lower lip. She swallows. “Is that why you joined me under the table that night?”

“You punched me and made me double over. I did not have a choice. I do not think I could have walked even if I wanted to after that.”

“You know what I mean.”

His eyes refocus. “I think so. I am not sure. I was very drunk. When it all started happening, it became unbearably loud in the hall.  People running, children crying.” He winces and lowers his voice. To avoid other listeners, he pulls her closer and bucks his head, his cheek against her hair and mouth against her beautifully round ear to ensure she’s the only one hearing him speak. She shivers but lets him. “I saw the guards by the entrances. I saw your sister. I saw Madoc and Oak and Oriana, but I did not see you.”

Realization strikes her features. “You knew it would be me under the table when you lifted the cloth.”

Cardan laughs though he doesn't find anything funny about the bitter memory. “It took a few tries to find the correct table, my dear, but yes. If anyone was under those tables, it would be you.”

She looks up at him with that expression again, the one he cannot read. “You said…” she struggles to speak as if trying to recall that night. Her eyes briefly flutter shut and then reopen. “You said that it wasn’t safe for me.”

“It was not.”

“What were you going to do? Once you found me? It wasn’t safe, but what else? What else could you do? Do you recall?”

“No,” he replies truthfully. “I don’t remember much from that night.” There’s a reason why they do not talk about it often. “But I do remember feeling glad that I got to be under that table. Even if it were my last few minutes alive. And even if you physically made me incapable of walking.”

Jude is quiet after that. Her legs move mechanically as he sways them closer to the dais. The dancers have made another path for them and while she’s lost in her thoughts, she’s more pliable. He moves her closer without having to argue with her, and finally when they stop in front of the sais, the music pauses, allowing dancers to take a break before the next dance begins. He drops his hands.

“Revels,” he says quietly, “have not treated you well. I see that. Perhaps as Queen, you will not feel the need to hide under tables or away from your people. They are, after all, here for you.”

She blinks up at him. “It’s been hard,” she says, gathering her dress to make it easier to walk back up the stairs to their seats.

“That is why I urge you to take after me and have some drinks.”

He’s relieved to see the corner of her mouth raise slightly as she nods. He takes her hand and brings it to his mouth, dotting light kisses to her knuckles. In response, she gently holds his crown so it does not fall. Then, he clasps her hand and helps her up the stairs and into her seat.

When they sit down on opposite chairs, he glances over at her. She looks more relaxed, though still in her thoughts. Feeling his eyes on her, she looks back at him. Stares for many seconds and then says almost inaudibly, “We don’t have to hide under tables anymore.”

“No, dearest,” Cardan replies softly. “We do not.”

[shreddedleopard]

I am absolutely bursting at the seams to scream about Morimyu Op 3.

Wanna write a very structured, intelligent analysis post but I don’t even know where to begin. Just … all of it.

— incoherent rambling about Moriarty the Musical Op 3 in-coming so quick — scroll if you don’t wanna see!

The way William’s yearning is portrayed. And Sherlock’s frustration. All the little references to Sherlock being a puppet on William’s strings. The way William is so infuriating and yet heartbreaking in the same breath. I totally get what Shogo meant when he once said, ‘it would be nice if William could be honest.’

The songs.

Spinning Around the Rondo? That entire spectacle. The lyrics, but also the way William steers and manoeuvres Sherlock at his whim … and the fact that they’re dancing with one another. I just. The metaphors. It was everything I needed from them.

I also love how we see the theme of the scarlet thread connecting them — this idea that they’re both attached but William is the one literally ‘pulling the strings’ — again in the scene with the Jack the Ripper culprits murdered. William tugging on an invisible string as he leaves and Sherlock immediately turning up to investigate. Chills.

In This Lonely Room I think is my favourite song from all 5 Opuses. When I say my jaw hit the floor … the dialogue from Albert beforehand — “you seem quite taken with him” ????? Umm. Okay. So it’s not just us then 😂 WILLIAM. You have been perceived 👀

And Shogo’s perfect called-out expression. But the pain in his eyes like … he doesn’t want to be made to face reality. He was having fun with his own little delusions and fixation with Sherlock. He was living in happy denial. Why do you have to go and be all voice of reason and ruin it, Albert?? “It will only hurt you.” EXCUSE ME is this advice on dealing with an unhealthy crush from your older brother time? I DIED.

But anyway. The song. Oh god, the song. Shogo sang it so beautifully and emotionally it made my soul ache for William and he’s like … he’s got this little glimmer of hope in Sherlock and when he LIES ON THE SOFA and sings TO HIS HAND LIKE A LOVER and then CLUTCHES IT TO HIS HEART. I cannot. Breathe.

What were they thinking? HOW can anyone be normal about them after witnessing that?

All of the songs in the second half pretty much ended me, to be honest.

I’m not sure how many times two people need to sing about having each other in their hearts to get the message across. I heard it the first time. And the second. And the third. BOYS PLEASE I UNDERSTAND don’t make it hurt more.

And then … the Durham date? THE DURHAM DATE!?

Ryo’s acting here was so good. The range of emotions he goes through during his talks with William — from notice me senpai to omfg challenge accepted to oh god we just sang about changing the world together do we really have to return to the weighty matter of why I came here — the LOC — after that? To oh shit you really do want someone to stop you to actually the RELIEF because that means you are a good person underneath it all if it’s really you — and I hope it is because I want you to be as obsessed with me as I am with you.

WILLIAM’S SHERLOCK AFTER HE LEAVES? The way he smiles so full it’s visible even with the dimming lights.

And then the final song … the repetition and switching of ‘I hope’ and ‘I will.’

I now fully understand why Morimyu twitter cannot stop saying those phrases and I am fully with everyone because ever since watching Op 2 they have been echoing in my mind but NOW — now I feel them in my bones like a bloody mantra.

Yes, I am dramatic about this. What of it?

😂😭🥹🤦🏼‍♀️

(Not even gonna start on Op 4 because that also broke me in very specific ways but it still comes in hard second to Op 3 my love.)

[skylerchasesbooks]

Monologues And How To Write Them

Monologue is essentially just a long, tedious speech by one person during a conversation.

Good monologues are structured just like good stories: they have a beginning, a middle, and an end. This rhythm—a build up and a resolution—is critical in long stories, because without it, stories can become monotonous and stale.

1. BEGINNING: In real life, people don’t just start monologuing without a reason; they usually start speaking in response to something else that was said or to something that happened. When writing, try transitioning into a monologue smoothly with your first line. Even the opening line “I was thinking about something you said yesterday” is an easy way for a character to start giving a monologue.

2. MIDDLE: The middle of a monologue can be the hardest part to write, because viewers will start to get bored during long speeches; it’s vital to keep your monologues from being predictable. Craft small twists and turns into the storytelling—from interesting plot details to unique ways the character describes them—to keep the monologue fresh and engaging.

3. END: It’s common for monologues—especially ones meant to convince another character to do something—to wrap up with a quick statement of meaning. However, don’t indulge too much in explanation at the end of the monologue; this can make it feel shallow or uninteresting. Instead, trust your readers to derive meaning from it themselves

Monologue writing isn’t a way for writers to let loose and write without limits. In fact, monologue scripts should be written with special care and restraint, otherwise they can quickly bore viewers and fail to contribute anything to the character or plot. There are several key considerations you should keep in mind when writing a monologue:

1. The character’s backstory or importance to the storyline:

Monologues are supposed to reveal important details about a character or the plot—it’s essential that you’ve developed the speaking character and a detailed plot for them to inhabit, even before you start writing. Monologues help inform the audience about the character’s traits and past events.

2. The character’s motivation:

In real life, people don’t monologue unless they have a reason—in the same way, any character giving a monologue in a play or film should have a purpose for it.

3. The character’s voice:

First-time writers can be tempted to use monologues as a way to show off their writing skills; however, doing this will quickly pull viewers out of the story. There are many types of monologues a writer can explore, but monologues should feel natural and invisible in your story, which means they should be told in your character’s voice and point of view. Using language that sounds more authentically like your character is good writing, and it will help create an effective monologue.

4. Keep it concise:

Monologues aren’t something used to fill time in a script—so as you write a monologue, keep it as short as possible. This doesn’t mean that your monologue has to be short; rather, it means you should spend time editing and identifying what is most important. The more focused your monologue, the more powerful and memorable it will be for your viewers.

2. Placement is key:

Monologues are very potent writing tools, and too many of them too close together in a story will quickly tire viewers. Limit yourself to as few monologues as possible, and space them out in your story so that they’re not back to back. This will help each monologue shine and prevent the audience from getting bored.

3. Use detail:

Monologues written entirely in general language are usually forgettable—viewers need concrete details to latch onto and remember. Pepper your monologues with vivid imagery (when in doubt, think of the five senses) to make them memorable.

4. Read and watch more monologues: Great monologues are inspired by other great monologues—when you’re stuck, seek out other examples of monologues to get you back on track. William Shakespeare is always a good place to start (for example, after you’ve read Hamlet, look into A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Romeo and Juliet).

Hope this was helpful to you guys! Take care and thank you for all the love! Like, share and Follow for more!

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Stranger Things: Five Act Structure?

First of all, what the hell is a five act structure? It’s a bit different than a three act structure which has a clear begging middle and end. A five act structure is more complicated. Shakespeare’s play consist of five acts and are categorized into comedy’s, tragedies and histories. The acts in those plays aren’t all the same length. They’re not neatly organized into five pieces because the pieces of a play have different roles in telling to story.

Act one - setting, character and conflict introduction

Act two - development of characters and setting, builds to the climax, and is a good chunk of the story.

Act three - climax. Pretty short and somewhere after the halfway point of the story.

Act four - falling action. Everything goes to shit. The force of the final suspense- aka, trying to trick the audience one last time about the outcome of the story. (Also a large chunk of the story)

Act five - last big thing to happen and the moral of the story. Not nearly as long as a act four or act two.

Here’s this messy diagram, and my notes on five act structure. I’ve got a better one to explain how Stranger Things specifically fits into five act structure- because it’s not like I’ve set it up here- but this generally shows what five act structure looks like and how it plays out.

The protasis is the beggining part/prologue part where everything gets put down and ready to be set in motion. It’s basically just act one. Epistasis is the rising action to the climax and then the catastrophe is the stuff that happens after the climax- where everything goes to shit and then there’s a fun moral/point to what just happened. For example; everyone killing themselves in Othello and like three monologues explaining what just happened as they are literally being stabbed and stabbing- and other various ways of murder and suicide. Classic Shakespeare.

However, Otello’s a tragedy- which is different than a comedy. They’re still five act structure but their everything goes to shit is inverted. If we look at a Midsummers Nights Dream, everything is going to shit from the start- people are in love with people and people don’t want to get married and the play being put on is having complications- and then at the end everything’s okay. The play goes well, people are with who they want to be, the donkey magic is reversed. And then at the end, the moral still happens with Puck’s monologue. Saw this put on recently and had a great time. Because it’s a comedy and it’s not meant to do the same shit as Othello or King Lear. Everyone lives in comedies and everyone dies in tragedies (mostly- those who live really do suffer though. Like emotionally. And sometimes physically).

So that’s a run down of five act structure and the difference between a comedy and a tragedy. Now we can get into Stranger Things.

Season one is the first act of Stranger Things. We’ve got our setting and character introductions and a problem to set things into motion. Will goes missing and then everything starts happening.

Season two and most of season three are act two. This is the stuff that’s leading towards-

Act three- The climax, which is the fight with the mind flayer at Star-court. Many people die, including Hopper- or at least the characters think so, and Billy. Everything with the Mind Flayer explodes.

Act four is all of season four and will be a good chunk of season five as well. We aren’t done with everything going to shit/the falling action. That’s why we stopped right in the middle of what was happening without any explanation- because we aren’t done with act four. Also means things are probably going to get a lot worse before it gets better (*)

Act five - the moral and explanation of the story that we have just been subjected to. The resolution of the story and the final act. We aren’t here yet.

Stranger Things has a set number of episodes each season. 1,3 and 5 are all going to have eight episodes where as 2 and 4 have nine. 2 and 4 having a longer run time than the others makes sense if we’re placing Stranger Things into a five act structure. Those are right in the middle of acts two and four- the longest acts in the play (story? Screenplay? Film is usually three acts so I have no idea what to call this). Season 1 is act one which is longer than act three and act five, but still quite a bit smaller than 2 and 4, so eight episodes checks out. Season three is apart of acts two and three, but a lot of act two was covered in season two and act three is really short so this also fits in with a five act structure. Season five being eight episodes follows the same logic as season three; most of act four was covered in season four, and act five is pretty short.

Stranger Things fits into a five act structure really well, in a narrative sense and a logistical sense. This also explains why it felt like season four wasn’t done. It isn’t. We’re still in act four, and will still be in act four going into season five.

*But what is interesting is that Stranger Things seems to be set up like a Shakespearean tragedy. Things are going well up until the climax where everything falls apart. This is the opposite of a comedy and therefore a tragedy. Slightly concerning, but this isn’t being written by Shakespeare so it might turn out alright. Maybe.