#this is the most elaborate thing I've done in a while

[amateurvoltaire]

Listen to the post (trust me, it's a long one and I've done my best to read the whole thing out...):

Embroidery, Work, and Women in the 18th Century

One of my resolutions for 2025 was to learn embroidery. Why? Partly because my brain can’t stand still. It needs a dozen hobbies going at once just to keep from falling apart. Also, I like beautiful things. And small, careful stitches on cloth seem beautiful to me.

But more than that, embroidery has always been part of women’s lives. From Helen of Troy to Mary Queen of Scots and beyond, women have picked up the needle, sometimes in peace, sometimes in despair. It has been an art, a pastime, and a sentence.

So let’s talk about embroidery today. More precisely, embroidery in late 18th-century France. What it meant to the rich and the poor, and how it worked, strangely, as both a kind of cage and a kind of release for women of the time.

First of all,  before we start, you need to know that it was everywhere. Truly everywhere. In France, embroidery was a fashionable and expensive way to decorate clothes, furniture, and church vestments. The most elaborate designs showed flowers, landscapes, or scenes from myth, stitched in silk, gold and  silver. Garments like men’s waistcoats or women’s gowns were embroidered by hand, usually by professionals, and filled the wardrobes of the wealthy.

But just because the finished products were aimed at the elite did not mean embroidery itself was limited to them. Quite the opposite. Because the tools were simple  (a needle and some thread) the practice spread through all levels of society. It became, in many ways, the defining domestic craft for women.

Embroidery, or the Quiet Discipline of  the 18th-century Woman

The education of a French woman in the late 18th-century is well summed up by a line from Rousseau’s Émile. Describing the education of Sophie, Émile’s intended, he writes:

“The education of women should be relative to men. To please us, to be useful to us, to make themselves loved and honoured by us, to raise us when we are young, to care for us when we are grown, to advise us, to console us, to make our lives agreeable and sweet, these are the duties of women at all times, and what they should be taught from childhood.” (1)

I could be sarcastic about Rousseau all day, but I will not. This is not about him (2). What matters here is the idea, widely held in 18th-century France, that women’s education was meant to complement male reason with female charm. Rousseau valued obedience, delicacy, and virtue, and considered domestic work the most effective way to instil these traits. Something as thoroughly domestic as sewing or embroidery was seen as both moral instruction and quiet, necessary containment.

So embroidery became central to women’s education, regardless of class, although the reasons shifted depending on social rank. For bourgeois and aristocratic girls, needlework was seen as a form of moral training.

This was not mere theory. Girls’ finishing schools in Paris and provincial cities rigorously taught embroidery alongside catechism and musical instruments.

For upper-class women, it was also a social act. French society in the 18th and 19th centuries was deeply performative. Embroidery became a marker of bien séance (3), a way of displaying virtue while remaining present in social life. The sociability it enabled was no accident. By stitching in company, women carved out a space where they could speak freely, while appearing to live within the boundaries society had drawn for them.

An art form from mother to daughter

Have you ever tried sewing or embroidering from an antique pattern? Especially something from the 18th or 19th century. Even if you manage to find the right thread and cloth, reproducing these old designs can seem almost impossible. Why? Because most surviving patterns from that time are simply terrible. How do we know? Because some still exist.

The Lady’s Magazine (1770–1818) (4) was one of Britain’s most influential women’s periodicals of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. It offered a monthly blend of fiction, poetry, moral essays, fashion reports, biographies, recipes, and notably, embroidery patterns.

The embroidery patterns were usually published as detachable supplements or illustrated plates, intended to embellish clothing and accessories with the flowers and foliage popular in Georgian textile art.

Few of these patterns survive intact, precisely because they were detachable and meant for immediate use. Most were removed, damaged, or simply lost, making intact issues of the magazine incredibly rare. Yet, some do survive. But if you get your hands on one, you'll soon realise there's not much you can actually do with it.

These patterns weren't instructional in the modern sense. They had no step-by-step guides or even a basic materials list. They served more as visual templates, meant to be traced or adapted. But why? Why would editors of a women’s magazine produce such unhelpful patterns?

No, the reason isn’t that the pattern designers and engravers were probably men who disliked women.

The answer is simpler: these patterns weren't poorly designed at all. In fact, they were perfectly adequate for their time, precisely because everyone knew how to sew. The magazine correctly assumed every reader had a basic level of skill.

And yes, I mean every woman. Not just those who went to finishing schools.

For most families, embroidery was a fundamental part of mother-daughter relationships. Mothers taught daughters, grandmothers shared techniques and patterns. This wasn’t purely practical, it was also moral instruction. Embroidery taught patience, neatness, and submission, but also created intimate moments of maternal bonding and a way to preserve memories.

Sampler-making (marquoirs) was especially significant. Girls stitched alphabets, dates, names, or even short verses under the supervision of mothers, schoolmistresses or female adults they looked up to. These samplers served as both educational exercises and personal milestones, often kept or displayed proudly as part of a dowry. Embroidery thus became part of life’s rites of passage. It wasn’t just a useful skill or an idle pastime. It was heritage.

A  male-dominated industry

In Enlightenment imagery, embroidery often stood for feminine leisure and elegance. But it remained, in practice, a skilled and demanding trade linked to luxury consumption, ecclesiastical ornamentation, and court attire. And like most things involving money, it was dominated by men.

Charles-Germain de Saint-Aubin, embroiderer to Louis XVI, published L’Art du Brodeur in 1770. In it, he described a profession regulated by the Parisian guild of embroiderers (jurande des brodeurs). This guild upheld a strict hierarchy: apprentice, journeyman, master. An aspiring embroiderer began with a years-long apprenticeship under a master. Once completed, he could become a journeyman. To rise to the level of master, he had to produce a a masterpiece (chef-d’œuvre) judged by the guild’s existing members. If accepted, he joined their ranks.

The guild maintained control through rules on quality, materials, technique, and design. Workshops were inspected. Violations carried penalties. The guild also limited membership to avoid market saturation. It was a business like any other, and its rules were meant to protect those already inside.

The guild statutes from 1566 allowed a modest space for women. A girl could join the guild through apprenticeship and submit a chef-d’œuvre of her own. Once accepted, she could run a workshop, even if married to someone outside the trade. But this changed. By 1648, the rules had tightened. Only widows or daughters of masters could keep a place in the trade, and only if they remained unmarried. If they remarried outside the guild, they lost their rights. Any master employing them risked a thirty-livre fine.

In short, for most of the 18th century, a woman’s access to the profession depended heavily on her ties to men: her father, her husband, her deceased spouse.

Still, exclusion was never total. A 1723 record shows 307 embroidery masters in Paris, alongside 65 widows who also held the title. A small number of girls were accepted as apprentices. The path was narrow. But it existed.

There was also another path

While the legal one narrowed, the informal one widened, and women took it. The guild’s grip was strong, but demand was stronger. A great deal of embroidery was done outside official structures, and much of that work was carried out by women. Not just isolated housewives earning a few coins in the evening, but networks operating on a larger scale.

In 1750, the police raided embroidery workshops in the faubourg Saint-Antoine (5), a district often outside guild jurisdiction. Among those charged was Louise Pineau, known as veuve Duport. She ran an illegal operation of no fewer than twenty-eight frames and even maintained what authorities called an “embroidery academy.”

But what enraged the guild most was not her scale. It was her success. One of the king’s own embroiderers, Louis-Jacques Balzac, had subcontracted to her a commission for the Dauphin’s ceremonial vest. Her work was so fine, it was nearly indistinguishable from that of the official guild. The same masters who condemned her were secretly hiring her.

This was not an isolated case. The guild explicitly banned subcontracting beyond a master’s own workshop, especially for gold and silver work. But bankruptcy records reveal widespread, illegal subcontracting to women who worked from home. They were paid by the piece. Everything was tracked. Even the gold thread was weighed before and after to prevent theft.

Everyone knew this was happening. But,  as long as it stayed quiet, it was tolerated.

The Path to Female Entrepreneurship

By the 1770s, women were no longer just running hidden workshops. Some began to appear in public as business owners in their own right. One of them was Madame Neuville, later known as veuve Neuville.

She presented herself as a merchant of gold and silver embroidery. Her clients were elite men: military officers, foreign envoys, members of the tribunal du point d’honneur. Her work included ceremonial insignia, ecclesiastical ornament, and embroidered garments worn for status, not comfort.

Neuville ran a dual operation. She had a workshop with salaried staff, but also subcontracted a significant amount of work. Her records show both men and women in her employ, including several widows of guild members. But the payroll tells a familiar story: women were paid nearly half what men earned per hour, even when they did the same work.

Conditions in her workshop were intense. In 1772, detailed logs show the arrival times, total hours worked, and instances of night shifts. The official working day ran from six in the morning to eight at night. But for the women, the hours were often longer, more irregular, and extended into the early morning during periods of high demand.

It was hard, exhausting work for not much money.

One regular worker’s case stands out. In June 1772, over 18 days and three night shifts, she earned 23 livres, 6 sous, and 8 deniers. That was roughly equivalent to what a male day labourer might make in the same period. The sum was modest, but for an unmarried woman, it offered a rare degree of independence. In most other sectors open to them, the chances were worse (7).

Female Labour at the  End of the Ancien Régime

One common misunderstanding about women’s lives in eighteenth-century France is the assumption that they did not work. Lower-class women, before, during, and after the Revolution, did not spend their days serenely raising children and keeping house. Nor were they driven by any self-conscious desire to assert economic independence. They worked because they had no choice.

The issue was never their access to the labour market, but how their labour was valued. Madame Neuville’s pay structure, where women were paid significantly less than men for the same work, was not an exploitative anomaly. It was standard practice. The value of women’s labour was systematically diminished through wage discrimination, occupational segregation, and social invisibility. Even when women’s work was essential to household survival or trade production, it was often treated as supplementary, even incidental.

By the final decades of the Ancien Régime, Paris had at least five all-female guilds, which indicates that women’s participation in economic life was not hidden. It simply wasn’t valued on the same terms as men’s.

In 1776, as part of his broader attempt to modernise the economy, the king’s prime minister, Turgot (7) moved to abolish the guild system. He argued that guilds restricted economic liberty and disproportionately harmed women and their freedom to work. While his reforms failed and guilds were reinstated, his successor included a clause forbidding sex-based discrimination.

The measure had contradictory consequences. It removed formal barriers preventing women from entering male-dominated trades, but it also dismantled the institutional protections on which women’s guilds had relied. In practice, this left women exposed. The protections that had once secured a space for them in the labour market were gone, and male competitors increasingly pushed them aside.

By 1789, as France stood on the edge of revolution, the cahiers de doléances (8) included appeals from women, needleworkers, flower sellers, and others, demanding the reinstatement of their guilds and the exclusive right to their métiers. These were not framed in terms of abstract rights, but in terms of survival and human dignity.

Freedom, But at What Price

The Revolution brought two major changes to the embroidery trade: one economic, the other moral.

Economically, the abolition of the guilds in 1791 under the Le Chapelier Law removed the protections once offered by the embroiderers’ guild. In theory, this made it easier for women to enter the profession. But at the same time as trades were opened more widely, the Revolution also raised a deeper question: should women even have a place in the economic order?

Views ranged from one extreme to the other. On one end, some argued that women should be full participants in work and public life. On the other, many believed they should be confined to the domestic sphere. Most people fell somewhere in between.

Nicolas de Condorcet (9) stood firmly on the side of equality. He called for women to have the same civil and political rights as men, including access to education, participation in public affairs, and the ability to support themselves. In a 1794 letter to his daughter, he urged her to learn a trade so she might “support herself without serving a stranger,” and escape the dependence that, in his view, undermined both dignity and freedom. For Condorcet , the right to work was bound up with the right to self-rule.

Others saw things differently. Pierre-Louis Roederer (10) argued that civil society was built on protecting women from labour, which he considered a burden meant for men. In his eyes, women were destined for domestic life and motherhood. Giving them rights in the economic sphere, he warned, would only unsettle the social order and defy nature.

Roederer’s vision won out. In rhetoric and policy, women were increasingly pushed back into the household.

But rhetoric is one thing, reality another. Women did not disappear from the labour market. They remained central to the Parisian garment trades. Though the guilds were gone, production methods stayed largely the same.

What truly affected embroidery was not ideology, but emigration. Embroidery was a luxury trade, tied to noble wardrobes. As the aristocracy fled, lost their titles, or were imprisoned, demand collapsed. On top of that, ornate fashion came to be seen as anti-revolutionary. The heavy silks and gold thread of the ancien régime gave way to plain whitework.

This collapse in demand hit women hardest. Embroidery and other luxury trades faced mass unemployment. Women scrambled for short-term, piecework contracts, often under male employers. The result was a growing supply of cheap, unprotected female labour. The old belief that women’s work was worth less only deepened.

The Revolutionary government made some effort to respond. The Convention (11) awarded state sewing contracts, mainly for army supplies, and local sections distributed work to seamstresses, prioritising families of enlisted soldiers. For a brief time, some Parisian women had stable, paid employment.

But this didn’t last. By 1795, under the Directory (12), the state withdrew. Private contractors took over. Women’s protests about exploitation were ignored.

What Comes Next?

Embroidery meant many things. It was work, it was teaching, it was discipline. It was done by women who stitched under orders, for money, for their daughters, or simply to stay sane. We’ve followed the needle through eighteenth-century classrooms and parlours, through guilds and illegal workshops, from gold thread to government contracts. Always the same art. Always under different constraints. It was art, labour, education, survival. Sometimes resistance. Often just what had to be done.

Which brings me to what I want to do next.

I’m starting a project: one hundred embroidered portraits of figures from late eighteenth- and nineteenth-century France. A hundred lives. A hundred threads in the fabric of a brutal, brilliant, collapsing world. The portraits won’t be stitched by hand but by machine. I’m a product of the twenty-first century. I like tools. I like toys. I like the meeting point of industry and art.

For each person, I’ll try to reconstruct, as faithfully as possible, who they were, what they did, and what they meant to the world around them.

This isn’t a Wikipedia entry. I’m not making a record. I’m making a story, a kind of chronicle of sorts. The aim is to give something back: their humanity, their contradictions, their texture. To remind us that they were, in fact, people, flawed, vivid, complex, even if they lived and died more than two centuries ago. No heroes. No villains. Just facts, and what can be seen clearly when set in the context of their own time.

The first will be Camille Desmoulins. Because on the 12th of  July 1789, it was he who he climbed onto a table at the Café de Foy (13)  and cried out to the crowd. And from that moment, something irreversible began.

I hope you’ll come with me.

Notes

(1) The original French text: “L’éducation des femmes doit être relative aux hommes. Leur tâche est de nous plaire, de nous être utiles, de nous faire aimer et nous estimer, de nous élever quand nous sommes jeunes, de nous soigner quand nous sommes grands, de nous conseiller, de nous consoler, de rendre notre vie agréable et douce. Voilà les devoirs des femmes dans tous les temps, et ce qu’on doit leur apprendre dès leur enfance.” (Émile, Livre V; original edition 1762).

This passage appears in Book V of Émile, ou De l’éducation, Rousseau’s educational treatise structured as a philosophical novel. The first four books follow the development of an ideal male child, Émile, from infancy to adulthood, shaped according to natural principles. Only in the final book does Rousseau turn to the question of women’s education, in the person of Sophie, Émile’s future wife , and the contrast is stark. Whereas Émile is trained for autonomy, reason, and citizenship, Sophie is shaped entirely in relation to male needs. In effect, Book V naturalises patriarchal domesticity under the guise of Enlightenment pedagogy.

(2)…And because I could rant for pages about him: it’s no accident I’m Amateur Voltaire and not Amateur Rousseau.

(3) Bien séance: A term referring to proper behaviour, decorum, and socially sanctioned conduct, particularly in elite society.

(4) The Lady’s Magazine (1770–1818) was a British publication, but French women’s magazines such as Le Journal des Dames et des Modes (1797–1839) and its short-lived predecessor Cabinet des Modes ou les Modes Nouvelles (1785–1786) also featured embroidery as part of fashionable culture, especially as it related to dress, accessories, and decorative refinement.

(5) Faubourg Saint-Antoine: A historically working-class district on the eastern edge of Paris, known for its artisanal workshops

(6) Turgot: Anne Robert Jacques Turgot (1727–1781), economist and reformist minister under Louis XVI. As intendant of Limoges, he wrote extensively on rural labour and women’s economic roles; as Controller-General, he attempted liberal economic reforms that failed politically but remain ideologically significant.

(7) And yes, I do mean worse. To the despair of anglophone observers like Thomas and Abigail Jefferson, French lower-class women worked. They worked in fields. They hauled water and firewood. They laboured in ways English gentry wives would never imagine. Working in an embroidery workshop was brutal and underpaid — but it wasn’t ploughing in the mud while pregnant.

(8) Cahiers de doléances: Literally “notebooks of grievances.” These were lists of complaints and demands drafted in 1789 by each of the three estates (clergy, nobility, and commoners) in the lead-up to the Estates-General.

(9) Nicolas de Condorcet: Philosopher, mathematician, and, agruably,  early feminist. Author of Sur l’admission des femmes au droit de cité (1790), in which he argues that excluding women from citizenship is a contradiction of revolutionary principles.

(10) Pierre-Louis Roederer: Liberal publicist, member of the National Assembly, but very much against women’s right to work and be educated.

(11) The Convention: The National Convention was the revolutionary government during the Revolution.

(12) The Directory: The post-Terror regime (1795–1799), marked by thermidorian backlash, economic liberalism, and sharp limitations on popular political participation.

(13) Café de Foy: A famous café near the Palais-Royal, known for its revolutionary crowds. Camille Desmoulins delivered his famous call to arms here on 12 July 1789, reportedly standing on a table, pistols in hand.

Sources:

Brian, Isabelle. "La trace de l’ouvrage: les brodeuses dans les archives parisiennes." Bulletin de l’Association des historiens modernistes des universités françaises, no. 43, 2023. DOI: 10.4000/bahmuf.302.

Coffin, Judith G. The Politics of Women’s Work: The Paris Garment Trades, 1750–1915. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996.

Fayolle, Caroline. "Le sens de l’aiguille. Travaux domestiques, genre et citoyenneté (1789–1799)." Cahiers du Genre, no. 53, 2012.

Lilti, Antoine. The World of the Salons: Sociability and Worldliness in Eighteenth-Century Paris. Translated by Lydia G. Cochrane. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015.

Offen, Karen. The Woman Question in France, 1400–1870. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2017 - Chapter 6

Saint-Aubin, Charles-Germain de. L’Art du brodeur. Paris: Saillant & Nyon; Desaint, 1770. Source: gallica.bnf.fr / Bibliothèque nationale de France.

Thillay, Alain. "La liberté du travail au faubourg Saint-Antoine à l’épreuve des saisies des jurandes parisiennes (1642–1778)." Revue d’histoire moderne et contemporaine, vol. 44, no. 4, 1997, pp. 634–649. DOI: 10.3406/rhmc.1997.1890.

[torra-and-the-toons]

There is no comic... yet. But perhaps one day there could be.

This took me an entire week to finish. 😵

[problematicraccoon]

when people say "ignore the 3D" i always noticed how they just didn't elaborate, and for a long time that frustrated me to the point where i would avoid practicing loa because i didn't understand it and not one person would explain it in a way that made sense to me. im the type of person that needs things spelled out in a more detailed, realistic way, while most posts talkng about loa and manifestation are more abstract and conceptual. im not saying this is a bad thing, its just a different way to explain the law that makes sense to some but not to others.

so, now that i finally understand loa, im gonna explain it in a way that i wish someone would have done for me lmao

ignoring the 3D doesnt mean to stop living in your cr, to stop functioning and shut down, ignoring all responsibilities. it means to look at the outer world and accept it as the reality your PAST thoughts created. your PAST assumptions. reality has a bit of a delay for a lot of people (not all, but i've seen a great majority of people talk about how they struggle with it), in the sense that when affirming that they have their dream life or they've shifted, its not instantaneous like a lot of posts say it should be.

this delay reminds me of how light takes time to reach the earth. there are stars that are so far away from us, that when we look at them, we're seeing them YEARS in the past, probably centuries. the light of our own sun takes 8 minutes to reach us. when we see the sun, we're seeing what it looked like 8 minutes ago. there is a delay in what you see, but that doesn't mean that what you WANT to see isnt coming.

ignoring the 3D simply means that you see the reality around you, and you calmly accept that it's what your PREVIOUS assumptions created, and you continue to focus on affirming. intrusive thoughts going "but where is it? why isnt it here yet????" IGNORE THEM. shake your head like an etch a sketch and persist in affirming. live in the end, as in assume you already have it, and act as such.

ignore the 3D as in realizing that reality is created by you and your dominant subconscious thoughts, and is waaaaayyyyyyy more malleable than you first thought. nothing is set in stone, reality is fluid and ever changing.

[petermorwood]

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

[gguk-n]

Jokes In The Cloud (Carlos Sainz x Comedian!Reader)

No Face Claim. All the pictures are from Pinterest.

CONGRATULATIONS TO CARLOS ON WINNING HIS SECOND GP THIS SEASON!!

punchlineprincess

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punchlineprincess Vacationing with the people who get on my nerve the most

y/bff/user you forgot to take me😔😔 punchlineprincess y/bff/user sorry bbg, next trip with you alone😘😘 y/cousin/user you annoy us more🙂 y/mum/user not a nice thing to say Y/N punchlineprincess y/mum/user I was joking😅😅 user1 if someone saw her IG they would think she's a model😍😍 user2 God I've seen what you've done for others, when is it my turn🥲🥲 user3 pretty and funny. I want her!!❤️❤️

{Reader's POV}

The gears in my head my turning, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I still had to refine my script; I was sure I could do it if I have a few hours. "Sweetheart, dinner's ready" my dad called out from the bedroom door. "Dad, I have to leave" I stated. "To where?" my dad asked, walking in. "You know that Netflix special I was gonna film" I began, he nodded along, "well, they want to film it on Monday" I finished. "That's in a day" he stated. "2, since it's in New York" I explained. "Cassidy will send me my tickets, but I think I'll be leaving now" I spoke. "Sorry about ditching the family trip. I know how important it was for you" I mumbled. "It's okay, darling. This is bigger. This will catapult you to fame like you always wanted, I mean I'm already so proud of you but this is still bigger" he explained trying to calm me. "Me and your mum will help you pack, come on" he said and called my mum.

The two of them helped me pack my bags. He explained how my Netflix special would be filmed soon and I would be leaving soon to everyone. All my younger cousins and nieces and nephews were so excited. Cassidy sent me the tickets. I made sure to pack everything while my mum fed me, it was chaos in the best way possible. "I'll be leaving now" I hugged my parents good bye. "Can't wait to watch it" my aunt spoke patting my back. "Mention us" one of my younger cousin's spoke. "I'll try" I laughed. My niece kissed my cheek wishing me good bye. My nephew wasn't ready to let me go yet, my brother had to pull him off me.

I waved good bye as the taxi left the resort, my family waving back as I disappeared. The ride to the airport was short, I was too busy going through my material to notice when I reached the airport. I paid the taxi driver and hauled my luggage to the check-in desk. The person behind it, checked me in and I was headed to immigration. This was the first time I noticed that I was sitting first class. When did my manager have this kind of money to book first class. I'd have to bring it up with her once I had the time.

I got done with all the formality and headed to the waiting area, where I spent my time going through my script and tweaking it ever so often. I downed a RedBull to try to align myself to New York time, so that I can combat the jet lag.

As the speaker's announced the boarding for my flight, I grabbed all my stuff with the plan to finish it up on the plane. The air-host lead me to my seat. I noticed a man sat on the seat next to mine, he looked an awful lot familiar, until it hit me that it was Carlos Sainz; my heart started pounding. I walked up to my seat, put my luggage away and sat down. My hands were shaking by the time I sat down, pulling my laptop out. I started typing away with shaky hands. "Is that a script?" a voice came from beside me. I turned around to find Carlos with his head turned, trying to figure out what's written. "Yeah, I'm a comedian, this is a script for my show" I tried to speak as confidently and calmly as possible. "That's cool. I'm Carlos, Carlos Sainz" he introduced himself. "I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N" I shook his hand. "I'm a Formula One driver, maybe you'e heard about me" he further elaborated. I know, I've been obsessed with you for years, my poor brother has to listen to me talk about you for hours after every race, analysing the whole race. I have a fan account called carloslover, were the thoughts running through my head. "Yeah, I must've heard about Formula One some where" I said tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Well it's nice to meet you" Carlos said. "It's nice to meet you too" I said with a smile. "I'll let you get back to your work" Carlos said pointing at my laptop.

I spent a couple more minutes working on it before I was disturbed by Carlos, not like I was complaining; "I'm sorry but I'm kind of curious about what the script your working on is about" Carlos spoke slowly. "I'm filming a Netflix special in New York. So, I'm fine tuning my script" I chuckled. "Oh, sorry for disturbing you" Carlos replied sheepishly. Damn, he looked so cute, I caught myself fawning at him. "Ah, it's nothing." I quickly looked away, "I love when people are interested in what I do" I smiled. "Then, I will continue to annoy you a bit" he laughed. "Be my guest" I smiled back.

A few more tweaks and a good hour later, I was able to close the laptop, happy with the script I had at hand. "I'm guessing you're done" Carlos chimed in. "I am" I said stretching a little. "Maybe you could practice a bit with me" Carlos suggested. "I do want to practice my crowd work" I thought out loud.

"So, Carlos are you really a full time driver or a model? I can't really tell" I said. Carlos's face turned red, "Is this how you do crowd work?" he trailed. "I, no, can't let the opportunity to flirt with a man as handsome as you go" I smirked. Carlos's blush only deepened, "So, I'm special" he laughed. "Obviously" I shrugged. "If it's anything, I thought you were a model and not a comedian" he retorted. "I get that a lot. But doesn't work in my profession when people don't think pretty people tell good jokes" I retorted back. "I've never heard any of your jokes, but I'm sure you're funny since Netflix wants you" Carlos said. "Hope so" I said holding up my hands with crossed fingers.

I felt like the time flew by, as Carlos kept me company. Just as the flight was about to land; "Will I see you again?' Carlos asked hopefully. "You could, if I had your number" I remarked. Carlos pulled his phone out and handed it to me. I put my number in and called myself. "I'll see you soon." I winked as I saved Carlos's number. "Can't wait" Carlos replied, smiling at me as we grabbed our luggage to leave.

Cassidy was waiting for me as I exited the airport. "I'm so sorry, I should've checked my emails" she apologised grabbing my bag. "It's fine, let's go. I'm exhausted" I replied grabbing my bag back. We caught an uber back to the hotel. I rehearsed my script with Cassidy for the next few hours, trying not to memorise it so it would sound genuine.

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 2,378 others

punchlineprincess Done filming my first special, can't wait for it to air🥹🥹

y/bff/user I'M SO EXCITED🤭🤭 user4 I'll watch it just to see that outfit😍 user5 so pretty😍😍 y/mum/user so proud of my baby💖 y/dad/user my baby's all grown up😭❤️

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user, carlossainz55 and 3,289 others

punchlineprincess Joked my way into his life🫣🫣

y/bff/user ooohhhh who is this??👀👀 y/dad/user what is this behaviour y/n??? user6 OMG!!! I love this❤️❤️ user7 the best couple ever and idek the guy😅😅 user9 y/n being sporty wasn't in my bingo card🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ user10 the golf date!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 user11 I want to go to an art museum with my lover and imitate art like that😏😏 user12 this is so Carlos coded plus he's in the likes😣😣

punchlineprincess

Liked by y/bff/user and 5,378 others

punchlineprincess I may have gone overboard for the premier at home🥲😅

y/bff/user I'M SCREAMING WHILE WATCHING IT🥹🥹 y/mum/user my baby❤️ carlossainz55 so proud of you ❤️Liked by Author user13 what does Carlos mean by that, like he knows her🙂👀 user14 the funniest shit i've watched in a while🤣🤣 user15 loved this so much!!!❤️🤣 user16 finally the real comedian that's getting the recognition she deserves😂😂

punchlineprincess

Liked by carlossainz55, y/bff/user and 1278,340 others Tagged carlossainz55

punchlineprincess Sorry I'm not normal about my boyfriend winning his second race this season😭😭

carlossainz55 I think having you there was my lucky charm🍀❤️ punchlineprincess carlossainz55 aww!! but it was your big brain and hard work❤️❤️🥹 y/bff/user aww!! watching both my babies win respectively 😭😭Liked by carlossainz55 and punchlineprincess y/dad/user good job Carlos👍 Liked by carlossainz55 user12 I should've known after those dates🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ user20 seeing her hug his mom when he won was so cute😭😭 user21 the most unlikely couple🥹🥹 user22 I get it Carlos, I get it😍😍 user23 Vamos Carlos!!👍👍 user24 I want a full timeline how everything went down😩 user25 I'm so happy I got to witness this race😭😭 user26 she was so sweet to all the fans and even took pictures with us!!😭🥹

After the race win celebrations on the podium and the team, after the interviews when I finally got him all to myself; "I'm so proud of you baby" I whispered as I pressed a kiss on his lips. "I'm so happy you got to see me win" Carlos mumbled not letting go. "I can't believe instead of watching you on TV I got to watch you in real life" I said pulling away. "I don't know why you lied to me when we met" Carlos laughed. "Well I couldn't tell you I'm @ carloslover on Instagram and Twitter and I've been in love with you since you debuted" I laughed. "I think I wouldn't have paid much attention since you're so pretty" Carlos smiled running his hands down my sides to rest on my waist. "Well I'm a Carlos lover and I am Carlos's lover. It's a win win" I smiled, "You and I both, princessa, you and I both" Carlos captured my lips in another, yet steamy kiss pulling me closer so my body was touching his, "You are all sticky and smell of champagne", I mumbled against his lips trying to pull away but Carlos pulled me closer, "No" he muttered and continued kissing me. He walked back to sit on the couch pulling me down with him, straddling his lap. He pulled me closer, our bodies touching, his hands roaming mine before they found home on my ass. We pulled away slightly breathless but Carlos than started his assault on my neck, sucking on my sweet spot near my collar bone while pushing me down on his lap. I could feel him grow under me. I pushed him away, "Nope" I said firmly. "No?" he asked cocking his head to the right with his big brown puppy eyes, "We're not doing it here. Let's get back to the hotel, maybe after you smell a little less like alcohol, I'll think about it" I said getting up. "Y/N" he whined holding my hands as I stood in front of him. "Not even for today's race winner" he pouted. "No. Baby, this is your work place. I will do anything and everything you want but out of the paddock" I said. "The car?" Carlos perked up. "Carlos, darling, we'll be on the headline tomorrow reading Carlos Sainz Jr knows how to celebrate his win in Mexico with girlfriend in his black Ferrari" I said. "Fine, Let's go back soon. I can't wait" he humphed before going to change out of his race suit. "I love you" I called out. "También te amo" he called back.

[barblaz-arts]

Hey, I was reading one of you're post and you said that you love Charlie as a protagonist. Can you elaborate why that is?

I've just always loved sweet-hearted protagonists. Steven Universe, Aang, Luz Noceda, you name it. It might be a cliche, but I'll always be a sucker for the optimistic protag who kills with kindness. They may not be realistic in some ways, because it's so much easier to remember all the shitty people out there, but truly kind people do exist and they are so strong for choosing to be kind and I love to see protagonists who have the strength to stay kind and extend that kindness to others despite all the shit the plot throws at them.

I already mentioned in that previous ask the reason why I like Charlie in particular a lot:

"... I think Emily is too sweet for Vaggie in a way that even Charlie isn't. Like, obviously Charlie's got a kind heart, but her demonic nature and her general hard-headedness and explosive temper are all things that separate her from Emily and other typical non-Exorcist angels that I can see is what really pulls Vaggie to her"

Ok so let me just elaborate on this a bit.

There's a lot of surface level reasons why I love Charlie. Her design is adorbs. Her archetype (ray of sunshine with a sad family background) is one of my favorites. Her VA is someone I've liked in a previous project(Mean Girls The Musical) and her performance as Charlie whether she's speaking or singing is just impressive and incredibly charming.

If we wanna dig deeper, I like her for the same reason I like characters like Enid Sinclair from Netflix's Wednesday; she's an amalgamation of contradictions that somehow works.

So just a quick disclaimer: I still don't think the writing for this show is "smart" nor do I think I will ever feel this way. But I do have to say that what I do like about this show is that characters were written with a lot of love, and despite the majority of the fans' claims that the creator and writers somehow dont give a shit about their main character(*cough*PROJECTION*cough) I think a lot of care and thought was put into Charlie as a character. Not a lot of WISE decisions necessarily, but the thought was there.

So if you were to ask people to describe Charlie with a few words, words that would probably come up are stuff like Happy or Energetic or Determined or Righteous or Gay or whatever. I would think those too. But other words I'd use to describe her are Stubborn and Temperamental and Prideful and REBELLIOUS, that last one being the most I think about when it comes to her.

It comes back to me seeing her as a walking contradiction. Charlie's always one thing that defies what you'd think she's supposed to be. She's a demon but she's kind. She's patient but she's irritable. She's a pushover but she's stubborn. She's no good in a fight but she has a lot of raw power. There's more to her than meets the eye and one of my favorite things about her that a lot of people may overlook is that despite the fact that she's a sweetheart is that she's rebellious and isn't afraid of standing up against authority.

Nurture-wise, being royalty very likely helped cultivate her hard-headed rebellious phase. She had a snarky emo phase for goodness sake. That spoiled rich girl definitely gave the king and queen of hell a hard time during puberty. Fortunately, she grew up to use that hard-headedness for a good cause. She's not afraid to stare down a goddamn Seraphim and tell her off on her hypocrisy because she's probably done the same to Lucifer when she was still prepubescent.

Nature-wise, the rebel in her comes from her parents, of course. Lucifer was a troublemaker who constantly tried to break away from Heaven's rigid system, while Lilith was a Strong Independent Woman who would rather leave Paradise than be objectified by the husband she didn't even choose. Freewill is a huge thing for Lucifer and Lilith, and because of this Charlie is also strong-willed, determined to do what she wants to do, even if it means getting ridiculed and disrespected for it.

Also. Don't you just love when the sweet character has another side to them that awakens when people they care about is hurt or when injustice happens? Righteous anger paired with a super power just never fails to be super cool. If you wanna know more about my thoughts regarding Charlie's temper, you can read it here

So yeah. I love Charlie a whole lot. She's cute, she's hot, she's kind, and she's cool. The whole shebang. There's a lot about her to dissect and I'm sad that people dont see that and constantly write her off as JUST the naive optimist because she's so much more than that.

[aijunbi]

─── // . 📸 𝜗𝜚 WHEN YOU 𝓒ALL MY 𝓝AME . . .

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 < calling their names (for what reason?) // ♪ — ıllı polaroid love . enhypen

⨳ ﹒ ⊂ OT6 ⊃ ꜛ 𝒻 luff wc. 250 + ⤸ // idol!establishedrelationship!kats x f!reader — hcs — 𝓴issing ⋆ tw ; down bad kats

៸៸៸ . . . ๑ ( SOPHIA LAFORTEZA )

"SOPH,"

sophia looks up from her phone and was immediately greeted by the sight of you holding up sanrio hair clips. she laughs and puts her phone aside, giving you her full undivided attention. "what're you gonna do with them, sweetheart?" she asks as she reached out to gently tug on your wrist to get you to sit on her lap.

"i wanted to put them on you," you elaborated while settling your knees on either side of her lap. "i think they'll look cute all over your hair."

"mm, yeah?" sophia tilts her head and you felt her hand cup the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. "go ahead. i trust your opinion," she says after pulling away. you smile widely as you spend the next five minutes decorating her hair with sparkly and childish clips, occasionally pulling back to look at your work.

once done, you pull out your phone and told her to pose for a quick picture, making it your wallpaper as soon as it saved. "you look so cute," you complimented as you kissed her lips again, your thumb tracing the curve of her jaw, her hands rubbing your sides in an up and down motion.

"you're cuter, pretty girl," she mumbles against your lips, making you giggle slightly. "you're the most stunning girl i've ever seen, your gorgeous–"

"okay! enough!"

៸៸៸ . . . ๑ ( MERET MANON )

"MANON!"

manon, in the living room with the kats, heard you call her name from her bedroom. she excuses herself and walk down the hallway to her room where she sees you holding up two hoodies, both belonging to her.

"which one can i wear?" you ask.

"whichever one you like. you're my girlfriend," manon replies.

"well, i know, but which one do you like better?—and don't say in a birthday suit like last time..." manon chuckles and trudged further into the room, her hand reaching out to a coffee colored hoodie. "this one," she says. you nod and put back the other hoodie wherever you found it, pulling the one she chose over your head and letting the warmth of the soft material envelope you.

manon didn't say anything after you did, her eyes only staring at you with an unreadable gaze. "why are you looking at me like that?" you question her, now feeling a bit shy after realizing that you are now her center of attention.

she shakes her head and her hands wrap themselves around your waist to pull your body flush against hers, her lips instinctively landing on yours. "no reason. you just look so beautiful."

"you always say that," you laughed, letting your own arms wrap around her neck. "it's true, no?" she smiles before kissing you again.

៸៸៸ . . . ๑ ( DANIELA AVANZINI )

"DANI?"

"yes, amor?" she responds just as quick as you called her name, her eyes drifting upwards from the book she was currently reading. you looked giddy and she didn't know if that was a good thing or not. "you seem... happy."

"very," you confirmed with a nod of your head. you lifted up the sleeve of your shirt to reveal a small, funny tattoo you got as a punishment from losing a bet—but was it really a punishment if you enjoyed it a little too much?

daniela's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she took in the tattoo on your arm. "y/n... you're crazy," was the only thing she had to say. you laugh at her reaction, plopping down on the spot next to her. "it's only a bet punishment, baby."

"that's even worse, oh my gosh. over a bet? really?" she leans in close to examine your new tattoo, the decision of supporting it or being against it weighing down on one another. you merely shrug. "but i like it, so that's all that matters, right?" you ask.

daniela looks up at you, the decisions still visibly wavering between her eyes. "i mean it looks good on you," she starts, "but why that tattoo out of literally anything else?"

"it's still a punishment."

"now you just look like a loser." it earns her a smack on the arm, and she apologizes with a chaste kiss to your lips.

៸៸៸ . . . ๑ ( LARA RAJ )

lara was trying to produce a new beat for a personal music project since she was bored on her day off. she toyed around with the instrumentals and attempted to write down some lyrics but ended up laughing at how silly she sounded trying to diss 'dogsear.'

"LARA?"

she looks up from her screen to her bedrooms door, a smile gracing her lips as soon as her eyes land on you. "hey, pretty," she says, motioning you to join her on her bed. you comply without hesitation and climbed on to bed, setting yourself down on her lap, her hands instantly latching on your hips.

"are you making a new song?" you question curiously. lara nods, removing one hand from your body to the trackpad, moving the cursor around on the screen. "mhm. i'm trying to diss dogsear but i'm failing so far," she laughs softly, her breath just fanning over your ear.

"let me hear," you insisted. she presses play and the music started playing. you were liking the song so far but when it got to the rap part, lara was just laughing into the microphone as she couldn't sing the lyrics without doing so. "wow, you really are failing," you said teasingly.

"should i write a song about you? maybe then i'll give it my all." she turns your head to face her after holding your chin between her thumb and index finger, her lips lingering above yours. "maybe you should. and maybe then i'll listen to it," you playfully yet quietly suggest.

"you got yourself a deal, beautiful." with that, she leans in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, you reciprocating in the exact same way.

៸៸៸ . . . ๑ ( MEGAN MEIYOK SKIENDIEL )

"MEGAN!"

"it's not my fault!" megan exclaims for the millionth time, her eyes scrunching up more every time her character falls down. you were currently playing a two player obby with megan, something you wanted to do after she bragged about being such an advanced player, which you found out to be a total lie.

she sucks, she really does, but seeing the slightly upset– and cute –expression on her face just makes up for it. even if you're getting mad yourself. "it's the faulty update! i'm never this bad!" she whines, her hands shaking her ipad around in frustration.

"i thought you were 'so good' at this game," you said with air quotations. "what else are you gonna lie about? having fake headless?" megan loudly gasps at your statement, her hand clutching her chest.

"how could you say that? my headless is legit!" she complains. you raised an eyebrow, not trusting her words. "playing any obby game with you is like trust trading in adopt me." to megan, that was a next level insult.

she tackles you down onto the bed, her hands pinning down both of your wrists on either side of your head. "that is a sensitive topic, you know," she muttered lowly. you playfully rolled your eyes. "you say that about anything that backfires on you–"

she shuts you up with a kiss, pulling back with a smug grin once she saw your flustered state. "you were saying?"

"you're terrible at anything but kissing me," you corrected yourself. she snickers and kissed you again, softer this time. "i'll take it."

៸៸៸ . . . ๑ ( JEUNG YOONCHAE )

"YOONCHAE!"

a familiar voice calls for her backstage and she smiles right away, turning around on her heels to be engulfed into a hug from you. she holds you close without any second thought, her fingers clasped behind your back.

"you didn't tell me you were already back in la," you grumbled into her shoulder. she laughs quietly, her hands carding through your hair. she often finds herself missing the soft feeling of your hair between her fingers whenever she was on a trip for events.

"i wanted to surprise you," she mumbled softly, pressing a light kiss to your temple. "you know, 'cause you're always complaining about me being gone for too long."

"that doesn't matter," you groused. yoonchae only laughs more, hugging and squeezing you tighter. "but i promise, after today's show, i have a whole month off."

"really? you're serious?" you ask, a smile breaking out. she nods and holds up her pinky finger to promise you her words, and your heart couldn't help but melt a little. you return the gesture, your pinky interlocked with hers. she brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles, making you feel a little warm inside as a result to her actions.

"you're cute when you're blushing," yoonchae suddenly spoke up, making you chuckle. "like really cute," she adds. "so cute, i might have to soft launch you on instagram."

"we should do that. like literally, we should." the look in your eyes tell yoonchae you really weren't joking. "okay, we'll do that when i finish my last performance," she vowed.

─── ᶻz it's like a 𝓹olaroid 𝓵ove the 𝓬heesy feeling 𝓸f love

i still forgot who to tag so comment on this post to be on a perm taglist 🙏 .masterlist.

[egalitarian-tomboy]

"The body language was intentional." Body Language Difference Between Sonic & Amy vs. Sonic & Tails

Although the DC x Sonic the Hedgehog 4 part mini series is non canon to the mainline story (as far as we know at least...) in one of the previews we got for the first issue we get a moment where we see Sonic grab Tails and Amy for a retreat.

However the difference in how he grabs them is interesting enough to warrant a post of its own.

ABT (Adam Bryce Thomas, artist for the crossover) said the body language was intentional and later on went on to elaborate that Sonic is simply being more gentle with one than the other and that he's not interested in shipping theories nor does he have any personal stake in that realm of fandom. He just said that it'd be more in character for him to have a little tact.

First off: HARD AGREE!

Like don't get me wrong, I've been a Sonamy shipper since I was in Middle School when Sonic X was still on 4Kids TV and SA2 was on the Game Cube but I'm against shipping theories / fan shipping wars getting heated between fans. Like y'all lets calm down these are fictional characters.

Secondly: I'm making this post specifically to talk about the body language in terms of how Sonic personally interacts with Amy vs. Tails in different situations. Because they're both close to Sonic but their bonds differ to an extent. So this is really my excuse to talk about something I've wanted to for a while.

Whether you ship Sonamy platonically, romantically, or you just consider them to be friends. I hope you can at least appreciate the observations in this post. Because it also has some appreciation for Sonic & Tails brotherly relationship as well.

So let's start off with the above body language in question and focus strictly on the hands.

The lines in the panel signify the strength of the grip he has on Amy's hand vs. Tails' wrist. With Amy, Sonic is holding onto her hand gently yet with enough grip to get her attention and to draw her close. While his grip on Tails' wrist is more firm with more like a "Get over here!" level of urgency to it. They both convey the same intention yet Sonic's touch differs depending on the person. Which it should because you don't act the same way towards everyone regardless of who they are 100% of the time. Sonic's no different. Sonic has always been protective of Amy and Tails but with Amy he won't physically harm her or act aggressively with her unless it's for her safety (Like pushing her out of harms way or keeping her from running into danger). So his gentle hold of Amy's hand is a good example of that level of softness he treats her with even though he knows how she's able to handle herself. With his grip on Tails' wrist, it's done in a way that screams "Brothers" to me. The older brother pulling his little brother out of harms way and getting his attention when he's too focused on the wrong thing at the wrong time. He's not being as gentle with him because sometimes Tails requires a bit more force to get his attention when he's invested in what he's doing. But the intention is still the same: Getting him out of danger and taking him along with Amy out of danger.

Next we have this scene from the main series:

Now in this scene, as they're confronting Eggman, the body language between the three of them says a lot more about their feelings in the moment. Sonic is ready to fight and protect, Amy is slightly concerned for Sonic, and Tails is nervous but ready to fight by Sonic's side to stop Eggman. The difference between this scene in the previous scene however boils down to Tails' junction to Sonic in the situation. Instead of being brought out of a situation, Tails is preparing himself to work as a tag team with Sonic or provide backup in a fight. For a while now Tails has been wanting to prove he can be useful to Sonic and help him on his adventures. Which is one of the big motivations for him in the first Sonic Adventure game that rolls into SA2. Most recently in Sonic Frontiers he's expressed his desire to be a hero that Sonic can be proud of, that doesn't need to rely on his help 100% of the time anymore. Which Sonic encourages but reminds him that growing up is learning also that it's OK to rely on others even when you're capable of being a hero that helps everyone. One way that Sonic is letting Tails grow into his own hero is by letting him fight with him and on his own two feet (or in his case with his two tails). Now when you focus on Sonic's body language with Amy close by, he's taking more of a defensive stance with her. Again, even though he knows damn well that she's very capable of handling herself with that hammer of hers, he is still very protective of her. One of his arms is slightly in front of her and he's positioning himself for an attack but he's also capable of taking the full brunt of Eggman's attack if he has a weapon or robot shoot at them. Just because Amy is capable of defending herself that doesn't mean that Sonic will stand by and let her be attacked.

One more scene from the mainline series and then I wanna wrap up this post by talking about the inherent difference between Sonic's relationships with Tails and Amy.

After everything is said and done with the Phantom Rider arc, when they all prepare to head home, Sonic puts his hands around Tails and Amy as they smile and leave together. The thing I want to point out is, similar to the difference in where Sonic grabs them in the DC crossover first issue, Sonic's hand placement is tactful yet at the same time very indicative of his relationships with them. Albeit maybe even a little subconsciously. With Tails his arm is wrapped around his shoulder with his hand wrapped around his arm. Very big brother like and sweet, the clear difference in height is also more pronounced in this interaction. Overall if you were to look at them acting like this and Amy wasn't there it gives the air of two brothers who just got done on an adventure. But when you look at his hold on Amy, you can tell Sonic has a different kind of relationship with her compared to Tails. First off his arm is behind her back with his hand either firmly on her lower back or just close enough to be around her waist. Generally speaking it's traditional for a guy to escort a lady with a hand on her back or around her waist to keep her protected and close so she's safe until she gets where she's supposed to be. But it's worth pointing out that Sonic is becoming more comfortable with his physical interactions with those he's close with. He's a very private guy who doesn't do a lot of PDA with friends, especially with Amy when he knows that she's in love with him and he's "runned away" from her advancements in the past. But after everything is over and the battle has been won, he happily holds her close and walks with her back home. And look at her! She's so happy that he's safe and sound she leans her head against his with her eyes closed. Like she's enjoying the fact he's holding her so tenderly and protectively. If this shot was just him and Amy walking together like this, you would say his smile here was a comfortable yet nervous smile like we've seen in the past where she's given him a hug and he looks a little nervous yet happy.

There are many moments in the Sonic Franchise where we get glimpses into the personal relationships Sonic has with his friends and unfortunately there are a lot of people who think that body language doesn't matter when it comes to understanding a relationship. But body language plays such a huge part when it comes to SEEING how close characters are to each other and how they truly feel about each other. With Tails, Sonic's relationship is that of a brotherhood by bond rather than blood. Sonic's always been there for him and yet he respects and encourages his desire to become more independent as he grows up. He will always be there to help him when he needs help and he will always stand up for him but he won't stop him from becoming a hero himself to fight by his side on equal footing in his own way. Sonic calling him "Little Brother" and "Little Bro" openly and more frequently truly shows how he really considers Tails his family.

With Amy, there is a friendship with her but he doesn't view her in the same sibling way he sees Tails. She's straightforward in her love for him and has openly asked him in the past if he would marry her. She's confessed her love for him openly and maturely to him in the IDW series saying she loves him and she doesn't WANT to change him. He's offered her to come with him on his adventure at the time but she had to help out with the struggling resistance. For Sonic, shyly telling her it isn't ALL or NOTHING is HUGE. Because he wasn't against the idea of her being by his side or adventuring with him after she candidly said she loved him for him. After that there's been a lot more flirting from Sonic's end that can be read as just being playful like he is with others. But when you consider in the past he wasn't the type to flirt back or first AT ALL with Amy, there is an inherent romantic undertone to their interactions. But it shows...if ever so slowly (how ironic)...that Sonic is either becoming more comfortable / open to the idea of a public romantic relationship with her or he's becoming more honest with himself since he's always been interested in her but has always been too shy to confess.

If that was too long for you, TL;DR end summary: Sonic's relationship with Tails is a brotherhood, Sonic's relationship with Amy is a slow burn love story.

Hope you enjoyed reading that because I had fun writing it.

[bwat5-blog]

*Spoilers For Arcane*

Good morning everyone. It is no secret I have been immensely critical of the views held by the good folks over at Arcane Critical. I have disparaged their views, and the ways in which they express them in equal measure. And it would be dishonest to pretend I've always done so with civility and respect.

One of my primary complaints and criticisms has been the lack of any detailed analysis on their part. I have not been able to find anything backed up with content, and good thought-out details supporting their stances.

To that end, something occurred to me this morning. I have seen the same video referenced and listed by many of them justifying their views, and have made no effort to watch it.

*This Video by youtuber Pugs4thugs*

A full two hour long video, repeatedly referenced by people I was accusing of never presenting anything of substance to back up their words. This seemed hypocritical. So this morning I made an effort to remedy that. I admittedly am quite disappointed by my findings, sad to say.

*I ONLY VIEWED THE FIRST 20 MINUTES*

Why am I putting that in giant bold red letters? Because I want to be very clear and honest here. The overall topic of this video is to do with the political ideology shown in Arcane itself. That was not my purpose.

My purpose, was to determine if this video contained what I have been searching for regarding someone actually backing up what they are saying, and referencing this video as evidence. I received all the information needed to make that determination with the first twenty minutes.

First, let me say a few things:

I know someone else on here watched this video with their own response and I believe Pugs4thugs responded. If you see this, feel free to respond if you wish to discuss.

Again, this is NOT about the political ideology side of this video. I am doing what I have tried to focus on doing since coming on here for the most part. Sticking to the content. As far as I am concerned it would be unfair to judge if the creator stuck the landing on their point politically, without a full watch and analysis. Therefore I will not be giving an opinion.

I watched only a small portion of this video. I don't know why the creator would. But if somehow they go on to elaborate on one of the things I mention past the point I watched in a way that makes my response unfair, I will happily admit as much.

I am NOT doing a whole long, in-depth response to each of these points. I have done so in various other posts. Just going to list some of the things I came across in the video with a quick thought each.

00:43- Discusses their own tweet in which they call Caitvi "copaganda".

No:

A relationship involving the cop character learning of the corruption in the system because of their journey with the other person.

Then having the relationship be sundered when both characters act as part of the system, with one leaning all the way into authority and power out of grief and rage.

Then having the relationship restored by the cop character giving up their anger and control, literally allowing for someone to be freed from imprisonment because they choose love for the other person over hate is not copaganda.

2:11- They lament "zero acountability for a character instituting Martial Law"

It is always possible they meant someone other than Caitlyn. I rather doubt it. Caitlyn didn't institute Martial Law. Ambessa tricked the elite of Piltover into doing that. I actually covered this recently with time stamps and all. I can paste here if needed.

13:03- While listing further evidence of Zaun's struggles lists no real medical care outside of Shimmer

I know this comes from that discussion Caitlyn had with Huck. That didn't go for the whole dang undercity. They were in the slums and in a particularly bad area of them at that. Have we forgotten that central street we see so many times just packed with businesses including the brothel? I'm not saying it is to the same degree as Piltover. But Singed invents Shimmer in the course of the story we see in the show. What have Zaunites been doing up til then? How are there any of them left?

15:28- While discussing Ekko also lists Sevika as someone "clearly interested in the wellbeing of Zaun"

One of them created a safe haven for addicts and victims of the drug the other one helped unleash on her own people. I don't think placing them on the same playing field is reasonable.

I've discussed Sevika's wrong doing a lot lately. I'm not trying to hammer the point, so I'll forgo the list this time. But I would say no matter her inner most intentions, her impact on Zaun is strictly negative until Season 2.

18:28- Discussing aftermath of Jinx's attack. Nothing is said of the death or destruction. Discusses "lots of prejudice towards Zaunites" including from Caitlyn, making a point to use a GIF of her clearly saying the word animals.

Now in fairness, given the trajectory of this video I am quite sure Caitlyn is going to come up plenty in the portion I didn't watch. But again, context helps here. I don't see a portion detailing the fact that Jinx killed Caitlyn's mother, 2 other councilors, maimed 2 more, blew up the council chamber, and that Caitlyn says that about the Zaunites who attacked a peaceful memorial in our future

19:00- Discussing martial law “Piltover goes under martial law to keep city safe which is a fancy way of saying “lets oppress Zaun harder”

Completely and totally disregarding any and all context relating to Ambessa and her plans.

20:42- On The Ending “Things between Piltover and Zaun are good enough for Zaun to… fight for Piltover, when Piltover has offered them nothing in return. I’m trying not to be snarky but I don’t see how I can’t be"

Conclusion:

As I have tried to make a point of saying repeatedly, I only viewed a very small portion of a much longer video. So if it turns out they go on to give full context and reasoning behind these points, I will admit my mistake gladly. But from this small sampling, I am sad to say it seems like another example of twisting the content to suit a preconceived stance. Rather than forming a stance from the content itself.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sass & Suspenders

Legal AU: Prosecutor!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

You and Bucky are both professionals in a long term relationship, but you like to mix things up once in a while despite the humdrum of life.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors please leave

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Because I have a thing for men in suspenders and I've thought about this for far too long.

Bucky groaned. But not one iota of the deep articulation of the sound that escaped his lips was rooted in any form of pleasure. You shared the sentiment. Taxes - who ever enjoyed doing those?

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"You promised!" you admonished, knowing full well that if he persisted in his protests, you would succumb to his point of view. 

The pout you received in response was almost as good as his closing arguments. It was 9pm and you had both left your busy jobs to spend an evening together completing your tax returns. Your relationship had most certainly reached the pinnacle of excitement. 

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you nudged your boyfriend towards the study you shared. The two of you had been putting off the chore for several weeks and you had finally laid down the law to your handsome attorney.

"I'm tired."

"So am I, but it has to be done. Come on."

Despite the fact that your crazy careers that kept you busy until ridiculous hours, the two of you found a way to do something together, even if it was only sleeping. Early in your relationship, there had been a number of rescheduled or incomplete dates, but the offending party would make it up to the other with their favorite cupcake the following day. In all honesty you were surprised that you hadn't gained a tonne of weight because of the quantity of cake you had consumed.

It wasn't long before you knew that Bucky was the one for you and you apprehensively admitted your feelings to him. To your immense relief, he reciprocated those feelings and in no time at all you'd moved in together and were filling out tax returns like an old married couple. It was incredible how well you synced with each other, in spite of your differences. A difference that was evident on this auspicious evening.

When carrying out a task that needed concentration and an arduous undertaking, you liked to be comfortable, meaning you immediately changed into one of your chemise nightgowns. Bucky on the other hand felt the only way to concentrate was to roll up his shirt sleeves and dig in in full professional garb. He often said that staying in ‘character’ helped him focus.

Neither of you objected particularly to the other's choices, particularly when Bucky was wearing suspenders with his suits. You would never dare admit it, but you had developed an overwhelming fondness for seeing your sweetheart in suspenders. One might even describe it as a kink.

Before meeting Bucky, you had never met anyone under the age of 70 wearing suspenders. You considered it to be a quirk of many of your elderly patients. But for some reason, Bucky made it look like the height of fashion. Many a time you found yourself wondering what it would be like to grab a hold of the elasticated straps and pull him into your arms. Today happened to be one of those many distracting occasions that left you dazed and very much aroused. It was several moments before you acknowledged the fact that Bucky was leaning across the table in an attempt to meet your gaze.

"Hey there, doll," he gave you that lopsided grin that drove you nuts. "What happened to 'we must focus' and 'get this done tonight'?"

The flush on your face deepened. 

"What's going on in that brain of yours? You're kinda quiet."

You bit your lip, treating him to a coy smile. "I just have other things on my mind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Just admiring how handsome my boyfriend looks."

"You looked like you were looking straight through me, not at me."

"Bucky, let's get back to this paperwork."

"No."

"No?"

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking about." His tone was low and commanding. Almost as though he already knew the dirty thoughts that had crossed your mind. 

You felt your pulse quicken. "May I plead the fifth, counselor?"

"No, doll. You're under my jurisdiction now. You're under oath to speak the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

"So help me God?"

"I'll be the only one here that can help you. Now tell me what you were thinking."

"How about I show you?" Rising from your chair, you sauntered over to Bucky's side of the large oak desk.

Sliding into his lap, you ran your fingers along the elastic straps of his suspenders, tracing the small grooves and indentations of the springy material.

"See something you like, doll?"

The groan that escaped your lips was nothing short of sinful. You wrapped one strap in each of your empty fists and tugged at them forcefully, pulling Bucky towards you until his mouth was barely an inch from yours. All words were forgotten on your part.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice so low you could barely make out his words through the carnal desire in his voice.

His lips were so close, you could practically taste a whiff of that last cup of coffee he had swallowed before leaving work. You watched the steely blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils expanded with arousal. Bucky's hands settled on either side of your face, his skin was on fire, or maybe it was yours, it was impossible to tell.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, so soft and it sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you said nothing, he pressed his lips on yours a little harder, leaving a slightly sloppy kiss on your mouth. “How about now?” he asked. He traced a solitary finger along the line of your cheekbone. “Or now-”

The rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not when it had been so long, and you knotted your fists tighter around his suspenders, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and his arms circled you, gathering you against him.

All you wanted was Bucky, you wanted to feel him, all of him, pressing into you. You inhaled, breathing in his shaving cream, his cologne, that extra scent that was just...Bucky. The aroma was intoxicating and you were dizzy with desire to take him in. Parting your lips, you invited him. His tongue deftly entered your mouth, forcefully searching every possible crevice, teasing, tantalizing, tasting your unique flavor.

His hands slipped under the hem of your chemise, gently gliding his long digits across your sensitive abdomen, before moving them to your bountiful breasts, enjoying the way you whimpered and writhed every time he flicked one of your perky nipples. The electrifying sensations traveled through your body culminating in your arousal pooling in the meager piece of material covering your leaking lips. Before you had time to object, Bucky’s hands were splayed across the inside of your thigh, fingers creeping ever closer to your clothed clit.

"Mmm, objection," you hummed into his mouth.

Bucky unlocked his lips from yours, surprise and disappointment evident on his face. "Ok, I know, we have to get this done," he took his hand off your thigh and waved at the paperwork on the desk.

"Eager much?" your smirk insinuating at your meaning. You laughed and snapped one of his suspenders lightly. With the other hand, you swept your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "I have a counter argument."

"Oh?"

"Let me show you." Seductively, you slipped off his lap and knelt down between his legs. Looking up at his face, you watched the look of comprehension spread across his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively. 

"Certain." The bulge seemed to be growing before your very eyes, straining at the seams of his pricey pants. "I've missed how you taste."

Bucky sucked in a breath in anticipation of your actions, eyes wide as you unzipped his pants and freed his hardening cock. Gently, you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft. "It's your turn to tell me what you want me to do to you."

"You know what I like, doll."

That you did. "I want to run my tongue over every inch of you." Lowering your head, you took him into your mouth, warm and soft, you took a moment to savor his taste. You hummed with appreciation, your tongue flickered and danced around the tip and instantly you felt him swelling and growing hard for you, his cock filling your mouth with every lick. 

You pulled back slightly as the head of his cock started to push against the back of your throat. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."

He groaned. The sound excited you, his body was coming alive for your mouth. You reached up to his chest, slipping your hand under the suspender strap and pushed down on his nipple.

"Oh doll, nobody has ever fucked me like you do," he cried as you worked your tongue over his frenulum. Bucky responded just as you wanted, the taste of pre-cum seeped into your mouth. He arched his back, eyes rolling backwards with pleasure.

Your free hand curled around his now rock hard member, with a loose grip, you gently moved your hand up and down encouraging the flow of more pre-cum from his tip to lubricate your actions and elicit the most ungodly moans from your boyfriend.

Hearing Bucky groaning so obscenely sent a tingle through your clit. After a pause, you tilted your head to take him further into your mouth, bobbing up and down with ease. His fingers mingled with your luscious locks as he guided your head gently as he tried not to trust too deeply into your throat. Bucky knew you often struggled to take him in completely and that he had to take care to not get too carried away in his bliss. 

It wasn't until he started cursing quietly under his breath in a way that made you come undone. You removed your mouth from his cock, "Buck, I can’t wait any longer… please I need you to fuck me."

"Doll, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He stood suddenly and pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

"Buck-" you whined. "Please, I need you. Touch me."

"Turn around."

You obeyed. His erection pressed against you was more than you could bear.

"Buck, fuck me like you mean it."

"I always mean it," he growled into your ear. He pushed you forward onto the desk, forcing you onto your elbows. Your chemise rose up as you bent over the thick table, exposing your ass. His cock rested comfortably between your thighs, eagerly twitching, ready for action. Your dripping wet pussy literally begged for it.

Bucky tugged at the strip of material that was the only thing keeping him from entering you. "Is this ok?"

"Oh God, yes," you exclaimed. At any other time, you may have been ashamed of your wanton cries, but right now you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel Bucky pushing into you, filling you up, making you pulse with pleasure around him in that way that no one else could compare.

"Not God, just me," he smirked.

At what felt like an excruciating slow pace, Bucky stroked your slit with his tip, collecting the succulent elixir that you had made, just for him. As he touched your clit, you shuddered deeply and gasped. You closed your eyes and focused on the ecstatic sensations that shot through your body as your opening stretched in receipt of his cock.

It was a good thing you were half sprawled across the sturdy table because your legs felt like jelly and would give way at any moment. As if Bucky could hear your thoughts, he curled his fingers around your hips, the tips pressed into your flesh salaciously.

"Oh Buck! I want you all the way inside me, give me all of you."

"Is that what you like, doll?"

"Yes, you know that’s what I like."

"I hope you're ready for this, because I know I am," Bucky purred.

He certainly was. He didn't hesitate in plunging himself further into you like sheathing a sword to its hilt. The force made you gasp with pain and surprise and the grimace on your face didn't go unnoticed. Bucky bent forwards, his abdomen pressed against your back and asked, "too much?"

"Tad too fast," you answered. "I may have been a little too hasty about what I asked for."

His new position had relieved some of the pressure and you felt a lot more comfortable and ready for him to try again. Bucky's breath was hot on your back and the wave of pain was now ebbing away, replaced by your impatient longing.

"Let's try something different, shall we?"

His fingers crept around you until he found your clit. Bucky encouraged you to spread your legs by nudging your knees apart. Slowly, his digits struck up a steady pace rhythm of slow movements, starting below and dragging up again and again, until your the bundle of nerves was flushed and firm under his fingers and your juices started leaking out around him. Not until your hips start undulating did Bucky try pushing back inside you. You had to admire his self control as he made you unravel with the smallest flick of his finger.

"Buck-"

"Doll?"

"If you keep fingering me like that, this is going to be over before you get the chance to have any fun."

"Watching you cum is extremely fun for me."

"You feel so delicious inside me, but I need you to fuck me with your cock."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige. Proceeding with caution, he pushed slowly until he was fully inside you. A burning sensation radiated through you as you stretched to let him in.

"How does that feel?" he asked slightly apprehensively.

"Exquisite!" you sighed. 

You shifted to make yourself comfortable before Bucky pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty inside. But you didn't have to wait long before he was thrusting back half inside you, making you gasp and moan. It was almost too much for Bucky, he was already struggling to control himself but he held back, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. In and out, he moved further with each thrust until he was sliding all the way into you, hands roaming over your exposed back.

“Bucky. Buck...” you murmured.

“Doll, a little louder for those of us in the back.”

“Does it turn you on?” you smiled.

“You’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night.” He rutted against you sharply in an unexpected rhythm. 

“Haha, you’re going to have to do better than tha-ahh,” you struggled to complete your answer as he slipped one hand between your 

thighs.

"Come on," he coaxed you by edging his fingers up your leg.

"Make me cum, counselor."

"On one condition."

"Name. It."

"You know what I want doll. Let me give you a taste of what you want." Devilishly, your boyfriend slipped his hand between your folds and gave your throbbing clit a few small flicks.

"Buck-uhhhh."

"That's right doll, just a little more," he grunted, starting to come undone himself. "Oh fuck, just a little more."

"Just a little more, Bucky!"

You pushed down against the hand he had clamped over your clit as he pounded against you mercilessly, all speech forgotten. Both of you panted and pumped away each chasing your release. There is was, that all too familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach. It spread through you like lightening, permeating every fiber of your being. "Bucky, oh Bucky, I'm-" you cried out.

Your walls fluttered around him pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you tightened around him.  Your whole body shook with pleasure. "Bucky!"

The sound of you screaming his name in euphoria was what made him pulse inside you. Arching his back, Bucky spilled his hot milky load while chanting your name under his breath. 

Neither of you moved for the longest time, you sprawled across the table with Bucky bent over your limp form.

"Buck," you finally worked up the energy to speak. 

"Mmmm?"

"I wish you could be inside me forever."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he smirked at the very thought.

For a few more moments, neither of you moved. 

"Buck?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think my arm fell asleep."

You could feel the rumble of his laughter flow into you. He slowly extricated himself from you, now you were only connected by the thin trail of his creamy elixir.

Bucky gripped your waist as you clumsily lowered yourself off the desk. "Looks like we made a mess of this." He waved his hand at the scattered receipts that were now strewn all over the table top.

"Next time don't wear suspenders if you want to avoid interruptions," you admonished him playfully while pulling your chemise back down to a comfortable position.

"Seriously, that's what turns you on?" Bucky wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his pants.

"They make you look distinguished!" You sighed and wrapped your hands around the offending article of clothing.

"So how would you feel if I put on some plaid pajamas?" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should hold me responsible for what happens to you." Smiling, you pulled at the straps and led your bemused boyfriend to bed.

[heavens-crown]

And They Were Neighbors P.t2

{Master List}

prev / next

Warnings:18+ MDNI, eventual smut, angst, lots of flirty behavior

Robby groaned as he woke up uncomfortable as hell on his couch. Sitting up he tried to get the crick out of his neck thanks to the weird angle he was laying at. Checking his watch he saw it was 6pm, so he got up to make himself a pot of coffee. His sleep schedule was already destroyed and besides he was stuck on the night shift for the next month anyway. While the coffee brewed Robby opened up the windows to air the apartment out. When he did that he could hear someone talking.

“Woman, how the hell would I know if he’s single? We talked for a minute max, the most I got out of the conversation was that he works at the local trauma center.” It hit Robby then that it was his new neighbor talking. When he didn’t hear a response and instead heard her start laughing he realized she was most likely on a phone call. It took him a moment to realize what it was she had said and he had to fight the urge to stick his head out of the window to keep listening. Was she talking about him? As he pondered just who she could be talking about the coffee pot dinged indicating it was done. 

He shook himself out of his stupor and set about making himself a cup before he showered and changed out of his scrubs. Something compelled him to sit out on the balcony instead of at the dining table, though he wouldn’t admit that it was mostly him wanting to be nosy. It was rude to eavesdrop on private conversations especially when it was a new neighbor. Yet he found himself opening the balcony door. Stepping out onto the balcony he looked over and saw Delilah saying her goodbyes to the person on the phone. Looking up from the phone she smiled brightly when she saw Robby.

“Hey neighbor, I'm surprised to see you already. You looked dead on your feet earlier.” She comments. Taking a sip of the drink in her hand Robby chuckles and turns his patio chair to face her balcony.  

“Night shift will do that to you, thanks to so many years I've mastered the art of living off power naps and coffee.” Robby jokes. Delilah tips her head back to laugh. 

“Thankfully my job is sort of a ‘whenever you get it done’ type thing. Though that usually leads to me being awake at ungodly hours though.” She glances down at her phone as it dings before rolling her eyes and putting it back down. 

“What do you do for work?” He asks. She lights up at the question and pulls her chair closer to the railing so she doesn't have to shout. It's then Robby notices she’s now wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts that are criminally short. He has to fight the urge to look over the tattoos decorating her skin. 

“So I do a few things. My main gig is a contractor position doing Medical Coding which I've been doing now for five years. My side gig is art commissions.” She explained. Her being in the medical field was not what he was expecting, but he could see the art commission. 

“What kind of art do you typically do?” He asked. He watched as her face flushed a bit and her drink became the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Well it depends,” she starts. “Some people want pet portraits, family photos turned into paintings. Then there's the more original pieces people request.” He couldn’t help but think for a moment she looked adorable when flustered. Quickly he squashed the thought, she was his neighbor and probably a good twenty years younger than him. 

“What kind of original pieces?” He was genuinely curious at this point especially since she seemed so hesitant to elaborate.

“You promise you won’t judge?” At his affirming nod she fidgeted a bit with her drink. “Well like i said it varies from person to person, but the bulk of the original pieces has been monster lover work or authors wanting work for their romance books.” It took his brain a moment to comprehend just what the fuck monster lover art would be.

“Monster lover?” He finally asks because his brain is still not fully online. Still not looking him in the eye she elaborates.

“It's stuff like werewolves, cthulhu, centaurs, stuff like that.” She gives a delicate shrug and meets his eyes clearly trying not to laugh when she sees the bewildered look on his face. “There’s a whole book genre dedicated to it. My personal favorite was the dragon with two dicks.” Her casual comment blindsides him and he chokes on his coffee.

“Two dicks?” He manages to cough out. She laughs so hard he thinks she’s gonna topple over. When she goes to answer she begins laughing harder at the horrified look on his face. 

“Yes mister judgy. It’s a well written novel of a dragon falling in love with a human.” She giggles, wiping at the tears forming her eyes. 

Robby still can’t process why anyone would want that sort of art, or what it would even look like when Delilah breaks the silence. 

“Seeing as it's almost 7pm now would you like to join me for some pizza? Normally I'd be down to sit on a balcony and chill but it’s getting cold and I'd rather not freeze.” Blinking a bit at the sudden invite Robby takes a second to get himself to focus. Seeing his sudden silence she begins backtracking. “If you don’t want to, it's totally cool, i know you probably got better stuff to do and-” Robby cuts her off before she can finish. 

“Let me take a shower real fast and I can come over. I slept in these scrubs and I desperately need out of them.” She looks relieved at his answer and gets up to head inside. 

“What do you want on your pizza?” She asks. Stretching her arms above her head he’s momentarily caught off guard by the jewelry decorating her navel. 

“Anything except pineapple.”

Pizza is ordered and a frantic ‘help the hot neighbor is coming over what do i do’ text is fired off to Cherry. It’s a second later when Cherry begins calling. Picking it up on the first ring all Delilah hears is Cherry talking at full speed. 

“He’s actually coming over? What exactly happened? I need details woman.” Cherry demands. Taking a deep breath Delilah breaks down the conversation for her, not pausing when Cherry begins laughing her head off over the monster lover comment. 

“Cherry what the fuck was i thinking? Why would I invite him over, especially after telling him I draw porn for a living.” Delilah can feel herself spiraling a bit. Men as a rule never made her that nervous or unsure of herself. But talking to Robby? That made her so nervous she almost word vomitted every thought she had bouncing around her skull. 

“First off, calm down, you're making me anxious. Second, it’s not a bad thing to invite a man over, even if you think he’s hot. Especially if you think he’s hot,” Cherry chuckles to herself before continuing. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything. You’re just having dinner with your neighbor.” Cherry’s words release some of the tension gathering in her. She hadn’t hung out with a man solo since she met-

Delilah slammed a mental door on that train of thought. She refused to think about him and taint her mood. Cherry was right there was nothing wrong with having dinner with her neighbor who just so happened to be an attractive older man. 

“You’re right. I think I just panicked and overreacted.” Delilah isn’t sure if she’s talking more to Cherry or herself. 

She chats with Cherry for another five minutes before hanging up the phone. Just as she puts her phone down there's a knock at her door. She gave herself a internal pep talk just before opening the door and oh lord help her. 

Robby stands there in a simple t-shirt and gray sweats which hang off his hips in a way that makes her almost start drooling. Jesus she needs to get it together she just met the man and she’s drooling over him like he’s a piece of meat. 

“Pizza should be here shortly, do you want anything to drink?” She gestures for him to come in and shuts the door behind with a soft click. 

“Water if you don’t mind,” He smiles down at her, making her stomach twist a little. “Thank you for the invite by the way, I hadn’t thought as far as food when I woke up.” He follows her into the kitchen as she fetches him a bottle of water from her fridge. Handing it over she gestures for them to sit on the couch.

“It’s my pleasure, I grew up in a super tight neighborhood so i guess inviting people over at random is a product of that,” She watches as he makes himself comfortable, his thighs spreading a bit in a way that makes him take up a good amount of space to the point where she could easily touch him if she wanted. 

“What brought you to Pittsburgh?” He asks. 

With that time flies by for Delilah. The pizza arrived and is divided between the two of them. Conversation is easy and flowing between them that she doesn’t notice when she props her feet against his thigh while telling him about some of the dumb shit she would get up to with Cherry. She also doesn't notice when his hand loosely collars her ankle, his thumb rubbing circles against her skin. 

“Please tell me you don’t actually watch that shit.” He pleads. Delilah laughs at the look on his face.

“What's wrong with Grey's Anatomy?” She asks, trying hard to maintain an innocent tone. He sees right through her, shooting her a mock glare. 

“You know exactly what’s wrong with it, I'd rather go through medical school again than watch it.” Shaking his head at her, Robby snatches the remote from her hand. 

“Excuse you!” She exclaims with mock outrage. Robby simply laughs at her and starts flicking through movies.

“You can earn your remote privileges back if you apologize for watching that garbage TV show,” He says. Pouting a bit Delilah sits back with a huff crossing her arms over her chest. 

“It’s a good show,” She argues. He takes one look at her and snorts out a laugh. Even she can admit she’s acting like a toddler but in her defense he insulted one of her favorite shows. 

“Whatever you say Delilah,” Robby chuckles. A movie is picked and played, though neither of them pay much attention to busy bantering with one another. They settle into the couch to finish out the movie. When the movie ends and Delilah notices the time she feels a brief moment of panic.

“Oh shit it's like 2am, I'm so sorry to keep you here so long.” She half expects Robby to immediately make his exit but he doesn’t. He shrugs while taking a drink of his water.

“I didn’t even notice, remember I'm on night shift for the next month so late nights are my normal.” He says. She relaxes at that and then an idea strikes her. 

“I got a batch of cinnamon rolls proofing that’ll be ready to bake in the morning, would you like to come by and continue our little hang out?” Delilah holds her breath for a moment, thinking she overstepped. But then Robby smiles and squeezes her ankle reassuringly. 

“I would love that. I’m not gonna lie, sitting here with you has been the highlight of my week.” He admits, and Delilah tries so hard to ignore the fact that her heart skipped a beat. 

“It’s a date then,” She says.

[maxwell-grant]

The Penguin: Episode 1 Breakdown

(Episode 2) (Episode 3) (Episode 4) (Episode 5) (Episode 6) (Episode 7) (Episode 8)

Thank you Lauren LeFranc, Mike Marino, Colin Farrell and Matt Reeves, we owe you the world for this, good God. It's finally here everyone and I've decided I'm gonna give each episode it's own post/breakdown of thoughts, because hahaha holy shit you guys this is beyond what I even dreamed of, and we're gonna be covering this for a while I think. I've worked out enough madness about this out of my system by talking with friends and I can't seem to be able to work on anything else till I get this done, so let's do it.

Bottom line: This isn't even just a must-watch if you like the Penguin or if you like The Batman, this is something I'd recommend to just about anyone in a heartbeat, something I can point to when people ask "why do you like The Penguin so much" and, instead of the elaborate nerd ramble that usually turns them off, I can just tell them to watch this. A friend of mine (who already loves Batman and digs the Penguin quite a bit) even told me as much, that he's starting to get why I love the character so much, and truly, is there a better feeling than this? Well, there is, and it's watching the show. Let's dig into this first episode:

Right upfront I'm gonna say that this doesn't really seem to be the Sopranos rip-off that people have been calling it before release, although there are definitely Sopranos comparisons to make here. I've spent the past months finally watching The Sopranos in order to get the comparison and definitely want to talk about those comparisons after I finish it (and this show ends). This thing aims to stand on it's own legs as a crime show and it's smashing out of the gate with an extremely promising first episode.

So this just casually opens with the reveal that all along, there was a second rich Gotham the whole time that was completely unaffected by everything we saw in the movie, already throwing a great twist on the events of that movie, and further reinforcing how fucking full of shit The Riddler was. All we saw Batman and the others deal with in the movie was just affecting the poorer parts of the city. All Eddie did was drown rats, and make life worse for the people already in the bottom, while never even getting close to targeting the systemic rot that ruined his life. He retains ideological worshippers in subways obsessed with the corruption of the city without doing anything to actually improve it, and because of him, the streets of Gotham are waterlogged shitholes while the rich Falcone suburbs are doing just fine, peachy even.

I said a while back that, in spite of having about 6 scenes/10 minutes of Penguin runtime, The Batman managed to squeeze impeccably controlled Penguin Trademark Scenes, and this show opens with the last one they didn't get to then: Penguin killing someone for making fun of him. In the movie, he tries doing that with Falcone and is beaten to the punch, so here he gets to actually do it to disastrous consequences.

Fucking adore that the inciting incident of the show is based on the fallout of Oswald killing someone for making fun of him. He pours his heart about the dream he lives his life for, his new boss makes fun of him for being an embarassment to their profession and then he does the most typical Penguin thing by killing him for it and laughing afterwards. And then he realizes how badly he fucked up, and then we get a fucking perfect titledrop with his musical theme, the exact moment we finish The Batman and enter The Penguin.

God it is so fucking cool how the make-up/lighting, the scar across his face, makes it look like he's got a genuine beak from certain angles, how they're able to achieve that effect without giving him a more literal beak for a nose. Everytime they talk about the character, Reeves and Farrell always emphasize how integral the make-up was to them figuring out what to do with Oz, how little they knew what to make of his six scenes until Marino created their monster and suddenly everything fell into place. Mike Marino fully deserves co-credit for the creation of Oz.

Pretty amusing that Victor, as designed to be Penguin's Robin, has exactly the same origin as Jason Todd, a poor street kid trying to steal the hubcaps off the Penguinmobile (I'm sure this bodes very well for his odds at survival), as is the way in which Oz goes on about his recruitment. He press-gangs this kid at gunpoint to help him bury a body arguing with himself and eventually the kid why shouldn't he just kill him to be safe, while trying to impress the kid with his car and air freshener and later that bullshit about "What, you think I hire any schmuck off the street?". From the tile drop onwards, he's doing everything on the fly while also spinning long-term plans set in motion as soon as he's on screen, he's taking this kid in out of sympathy and because he enjoys a power dynamic over someone weaker than him and because he very much needs someone to help him get stuff done. I'm extremely interested in exploring Penguin having a mentorship dynamic and I'm beyond curious as to what happens with Victor from this point onwards, but that poor kid is in for a terrible fucking time.

Found it very funny how much he half-asses the murder threat to Victor. Like it's his first time actually doing it and he's trying to be serious, but not too scary because he's already seeing himself in the poor kid with a stutter and wants the kid to think he's also a cool guy like he wants everyone to think he's a cool guy. I also think having Victor as the POV helps to sell moments like these, because it's still terrifying to him. Even as we follow their stories, these power players of Gotham are still big scary monsters to people caught in the dregs and Victor helps to reinforce that.

I enjoy Oz being friends with sex workers and drag queens off the street as much as I enjoy Oz being depicted as the kind of guy who deludes himself into thinking the prostitute he's with actually likes him, Lauren and Farrell launched into a bit about in on the podcast and I'm curious to see what's going on with him and Eve here.

Lots of perfect funny little character moments across the whole thing. Oz insulted by the idea of taking extra pickles off a poor kid's dirty mouth, but with zero hesitation whatsoever for picking jewelry off his boss' corpse. Dude is governed by principles even as he actively has to break them to survive.

"Technically it's plum." "He is the - or was the - new kingpin", "He's got nurse-like qualities." The show is not overtly trying to get you to find Penguin likeable as much as it wants you to find him engaging - making you think he's likeable is Colin Farrell's job and he's masterful at it, definitely a lot more matured within the character compared to the movie.

If there's anything in particular I'm thankful for regarding Gotham (well okay Gotham led directly to Telltale Penguin which was the basis for this one, so really I do have a lot more to be thankful with Gotham), it's the decision to give him a legit waddle via the broken foot, but the way they incorporate it here with the club foot does so much for him, so much as a modern day reinvention of The Penguin. Adds so much to why he's never been a serious candidate for mob leadership, why he kinda had to spend all his time in the Lounge, why he actually needs someone to help him run affairs, why he has such a gaping ego wound and is so murderously angry at people making fun of him / calling him a goddamn penguin, adds so much validation and so much darkness and nuance to Oswald's overwhelming anger and bitterness over how the world treats him (and so much power should he opt to reclaim it, in turn). It's the kind of thing that frankly feels like it should have always been part of the character, like what all the previous versions were itching closer to or trying to get at. Of course this is a guy gets called a penguin and he hates it badly enough to murder people over it, of course.

This gets to really highlight how differently Oz acts depending on who he's with. Traditionally, one of my favorite things about The Penguin, and one of the things that puts him above the other villains, is that, due to his position, he has to interact with a lot more people than the other Bat-villains. He has to manage a lot more relationships and dynamics, he has to play peacekeeper and puppetmaster. he's the only one in the United Underworld who's regularly interacting with and recruiting other villains to do business with. He's the guy who you pin stuff on like the Gangland Guardians, Team Penguin, doing betting pools with the Rogues taking cover in his Lounge while Joker War is happening, having to rig games to keep good standing with Maxie Zeus and Frenchy Blake in Batman Audio Adventures, and so on. So I greatly enjoy this beat here of him talking about how makes himself smaller before the Falcones, and that moment of him adjusting his outfit and practicing expressions in the mirror before meeting with them. How he contorts himself is present in all of his relationships, and retroactively adds to the way he carries himself in The Batman.

It seems that Oz is functionally regarded as the Paulie Walnuts of the Falcones: useful muscle, loyal for the most part and amusing to keep around, but largely an unstable self-serving dumb asskisser kept where he belongs, a liability if not kept on a short leash. I think the show does a good job of highlighting all the reasons why Oz has never been seriously regarded as a viable option for a boss, even putting aside his disability. He is a fundamentally embarassing person for these serious respectable criminals to be around and of course, the joke is ultimately on them..

Of course, there is only two people in the show who actually know what he's capable of, Francis Cobb and Sofia Falcone, said to be the central relationships defining the show moving forward. Both of them also a defining commonality with Oswald, being people who are looked down on and dehumanized, and characters who are underestimated until it's time to bear their fangs.

Extremely invested in where they're going with Sofia Falcone, Cristine Milioti's been killing it, and will in fact not stop killing it. What a perfect villain for Penguin they've set up with her, someone who has his Kryptonite: she does not underestimate him. Although we know in advance that Oz is going to live and be in the next movie, the question here isn't even so much who's going to win the gang war, and rather how much damage these two freaks will do to the city until Batman gets back. In many ways, Sofia represents the shape of things to come just as much as he does.

She is this embodiment of both the pristine unfathomable wealth and privilege and power that he both detests and strives for, as well as this brutal new breed of madness and violence attacking the streets that he has to survive against and make deals with (and is himself very much a part of, however he denies it). She is Falcone's legacy in every way that matters, both a Kingpin of Gotham whose existence creates the oppressive conditions under which a Batman or a Riddler are created, as well as the Arkham Rogue, the larger-than-life sadist with a tragic origin and a signature torture-murder method and an embarassing name for the papers.

Even the fact that she is The Hangman, and Carmine was defined around his penchant for brutally strangling women - regardless of whether or not she did the crimes that got her in Arkham, she's become this larger-than-life themed expression of a violent obsession in a way that sets her up as every bit the Batman villain that The Penguin is. The two champions of the two Gothams, duking it out in this new world The Batman and The Riddler made, The Penguin vs The Hangman.

I am so glad Lauren LeFranc made the call for binning Alberto in the first five minutes so the rest of the show can focus on Sofia and make a real character out of her in a way nobody's ever really done before, every step of the way so far LeFranc has been perfectly on the ball about where to take these characters and their conflict. And speaking of those,

I feel very confident in saying that this is the first time anyone's ever really had something worth doing with Oswald's mother as a character in her own right and not just a source of anguish for Penguin (Gotham was almost onto something with Gertrude, but not nearly enough). When it comes to Penguin origin stories, my favorite's always been the Pre-Crisis one, where he's poor and bullied but happy with his mom and birds until she dies and the government seizes everything he has, which doesn't necessarily involve her much. But here? Francine Cobb is a real character in what little time we get to know her, and what a character she is. We quickly understand the role she's playing in Oz's life, not just as his mom and person he loves and strives to protect, but the person who's sculpting him into the man he's going to become.

She is vulnerable and she does need meds and she's not quite all there, and Penguin's need to care for her is visible in other actions of his. But then they turn it around by showing how strong and demanding she is, how she is fiercely ambitious and pushing him to be something he would otherwise not be, how much she loves him and sees greatness in him. She knows he's a people pleaser, she knows how to push his buttons, and she wants him to be more, so of course he's going to be more, because he lives to please his mom.

Related to this is this absolute bullseye of a summation of The Penguin, that Lauren LeFranc delivered in the podcast: "Perhaps his greatest fear is that love is transactional. And that yet, everything he does, every decision he makes, is as if that's true. As if "love is transactional" is a truth he abides by". Oswald's conception of power is being loved and revered like Rex Calabrese, and the love he wants most in all the world is the one from his mother. So in turn this, and all extensions of it, drive him to greater and darker lengths.

He doesn't have that ambition quite down yet, it's his mom that does. She who's pushing him to take over the city and not just be a guy scraping by for survival. He's smart and ambitious and extremely good at slipping out of trouble, but she's pushing him to be the guy who will be taking the city by the horns because that's what he has to be for their sake. Her legacy to her son is nurturing him having that dog in him that will make him the supervillain who picks fights with Vengeance. She is the force that's turning Oswald into The Goddamn Penguin and I can't wait to see how she's developed.

Of course he reprimands Victor in that scene for lacking ambition, who do you think he gets it from?

Really love what they've done with Sal Maroni in here so far. I like adaptations that take these throwaway Batman backstory gangsters and make something out of them, in this case, with Clancy Brown lending his power and voice and reputation as The Grand Boss of Villainy to play the last Respectable Gangster of Gotham, this intimidating principled old tiger who's inversely proportional to how much of a petty and scummy piece of shit Carmine Falcone was. Extremely a guy I'd want to see playing a hand in the creation of Two-Face. Just as crucial is the fact that he is the one who gets the most effortlessly outplayed by Oz here, because this is The Penguin Show: no room for traditional or respectable gangsters anymore, their purpose is to be crapped all over by our wacko birdman.

There's a lot about this that re-contextualizes his behavior in The Batman and the one I'm gonna point out is: even though he can't be sure his plan didn't completely go to shit, he is still keeping his wits and not being terribly scared about being beaten up and tortured and staring down the scariest Falcone with a gun shoved in his throat. But he craps his pants at the sight of the Batmobile. He gets pain, he gets indignity, but he doesn't get Vengeance, what kind of sick freak would come up with the stuff that guy does. A gun in his mouth and Falcone torture is just Tuesday, but a car that wants to eat his soul is some psycho shit he's just not ready to deal with.

It is the delicious tasty fucking irony that Oswald thinks Vengeance is this weird freak who doesn't play or bend to any rules and is here to fuck up everything, just like the madman who flooded the city, and thinks of himself in turn as a justifiable guy standing for the respectable old-fashioned empathetic way of doing things, instead of the exact same thing that Riddler and Batman are. Only Sofia gets what he really is, the same thing as her, and that's why she is the arch-enemy / the biggest thing he's gotta defeat in life for now.

God, how fucking PERFECT it is that he gets caught and tortured because he, after stabbing out a man's eye and causing him to get run over by a schoolbus, stops to wave at the kids in that schoolbus while covered in blood. Just the Rex Calabrese of it all, the self-image, this guy who's both a mean nasty son of a bitch and also a real bleeding heart softie and in ways that ruin his life and allow him to slip and wriggle his way out of shit he has no right to, as demonstrated by the finale.

Thinking about Sofia chastizing Oz saying he thinks she is a toy to play with, while rattling off the ways in which she owns him and everything he has, all the ridiculous little accessories her daddy let him play him, and he in turn is a ridiculous little accessory for the family she is twisting until it breaks. Perfect fucking villain for him. Can't wait to see how badly these two are gonna burn Gotham.

I knew deep in my heart that all I wanted out of a Penguin show, the thing that I simply needed to have in it, was Penguin pulling a heist set-up in advance, and it fucking delivered. He doesn't even complain at Victor for being late, because if anything, getting captured and tortured while the car crashed was even better for him. No, he complains at Victor for not being sufficiently gruesome with the body. See, unlike other cowardly anti-hero reinventions of Bat-villains, the show never wants you to forget that Oz is a weird freak and a disgusting piece of shit, even if he is a very likeable and even aspirational one. Only by the most random stroke of fate it wasn't Victor that he fed to the wolves at that moment, that he sees himself in the kid isn't exactly ensuring that he's gonna make out of this in one piece.

Mr. Vengeance gets Nirvana, and Mr. Boniface gets Dolly Parton, perfect credits.

In conclusion: Out of everything they could have done following the thunderous success of The Batman and it's ensuing influence over the DCU, out of all the offers Reeves must have gotten to helm their new universe after delivering a megahit reinvention of their breadwinner blockbuster character, Matt Reeves went "Nah, I listened to my crew, and what we really want to do is 8 hours of television about the waddling freak who's in my movie for 10 minutes", and he and his crew deserve the world for that. I dreamed as a kid of getting to make a big Penguin story or show, a wild impossible idea that would never actually happen, and now it's here and it's better than anything I'd ever imagined.

I'm fit to burst with joy and riding a high of no longer having to hunt for scraps and washing away decades of put-downs for the character and enjoying a Penguin renaissance like one I never imagined happening. I am extremely not an unbiased reviewer here, this show rules and I've waited for it since I was a kid and it's here, drink it the fuck in cause it's only the beginning.

[telomeke]

THE SIGN – CULTURAL REFERENCES, MYTHOLOGY AND META

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This post comes on the heels of the one by @respectthepetty about mythology and meta of The Sign, linked here. 😍👍 If you've not read it yet, I recommend you do before watching any more of this series, because it will help things make more sense (especially if you're not familiar with some of the cultural references thrumming in the background).

Anyway, I'd previously done some research on the legend(s) of the Garuda and the Naga in Southeast Asia, and so I'm writing this post to share what I've found because it does have relevance to at least some of what we're seeing onscreen in The Sign, and elaborates on @respectthepetty's post.

‌

The Garuda and the Naga are mythical beings with origins in Indian mythology that have been transposed into cultures across Southeast Asia.

In Hinduism, Garuda is a single deity, depicted in either full-bird form or part-bird and part-human, and is the king of birds and also a divine sun-bird (with physical attributes similar to an eagle's). His elder brother, Aruna, is the chariot driver for Surya the sun-god, while Garuda himself is the mount of Vishnu.

In Buddhist mythology, the garudas (sometimes also spelt garulas) are a society and race of gigantic predatory birds, sometimes also depicted as part-human in form. The garudas are intelligent, social and blessed with might and magical powers.

Thailand may be predominantly Buddhist, but it has also been strongly influenced by ancient Indian culture and Hinduism, and thus both the concept of a single deity Garuda and the race of garudas co-exist in Thai mythological beliefs.

The nagas on the other hand, are snake-like or dragon-like creatures, whose realm is the water world. (The word naga is derived from Sanskrit and is also etymologically related to the English word snake.)

In mythology nagas and garudas are perpetual enemies, although neither side is actually identified with good or evil – they are simply two groups eternally at war with each other (so occidental-leaning minds should dispel any preconception that the water serpents are necessarily the bad guys in The Sign, even though the narrative seems to be tilting in that direction).

When borrowed into popular culture (as has been done for The Sign) you may sometimes see influences of Chinese dragon and phoenix mythology (as Chinese cultural influence is also present in Thailand, and the dragon/phoenix motif of Sinitic culture nicely parallels the naga/garuda conflict pairing). And because of Garuda's association with the sun in Hinduism, and a parallel with the fiery phoenix of Western mythology, you may sometimes see garudas portrayed as aligned with the sun and/or flame as well.

There are some hints of these in The Sign. The naga that Phaya encounters while struggling underwater during the open sea training challenge in Ep.1 is very Thai in appearance (especially with the curved, forward-pointing crest, making it look much like the nagas that adorn Thai temple architecture). But the array of pronged, backward-pointing horns and trailing antennae appear to be a design nod at Chinese or Japanese dragons (East Asian dragons are also strongly identified with the watery realm, by the way). And in the graphics of the series (e.g., in the poster at the start of this post), the sky (the realm of Garuda) is suffused with sunlight and speckled with what look like drifting sparks, referencing sun and flame.

Because of the wings tattooed on his back and his time in the air force, Phaya is most likely the reincarnation of a garuda in human form (and this is why he struggled with the water challenge, as he was completely out of his element).

This is also possibly why we see him smoking early on in the series (because of the alignment of Garuda with the element of fire), and significantly he does this while Naga Tharn (irked by Yai's teasing at the dining table) seeks refuge in the washroom (which is ห้องน้ำ/hong naam in Thai, literally water room):

‌Billy also describes Phaya's character in the promo video for the series (linked here) as being "like fire, always hot and burning... quite hot-headed." 👍

Elsewhere in the same promo video (linked here), Tharn's good friend Chalothon is explicitly identified as the reincarnation of an important naga, which immediately signals that he and Phaya will be at odds in the series:

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The water deity that saves Phaya during the open sea challenge – Wansarat, whom he drew in his sketchbook – is not just Freen Sarocha in a fancy scuba suit. 😂

If you look at her arm and hand when she reaches out to save Phaya (before she turns into Tharn) the green scales meld into the skin of her human wrist – they're part of her natural covering, and she's really a nakhee/nagin/nagini, a female naga, appearing in human form to save Phaya.

The narrative has made it strongly obvious that Phaya is a reincarnated garuda, while Tharn is the reincarnation of Wansarat, from the lineage of the nagas. And the teaser-trailer (linked here) tells us that Phaya and Tharn/Wansarat are lovers bound to each other through time:

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However, the special promo video (released 24 November 2023) also tells us (in Heng's interview linked here) that Chalothon and Wansarat were lovers in past lives, even while it is Phaya and Wansarat (reincarnated as Tharn) who are paired by fate in The Sign.

And as the nagas and garudas are bitter enemies, the love story between Phaya and Tharn/Wansarat that transcends time and reincarnation cycles is also one that must have been (and will continue to be) forbidden by their respective naga and garuda tribes (especially since Tharn/Wansarat also used to be naga Chalothon's lover), and will undoubtedly be a source of conflict in the series. This is way beyond the Montagues and Capulets! 😍

‌

So with this as the base, I took a look at the characters' names, and those belonging to Phaya, Chalothon, Tharn and Wansarat especially also reflect their garuda/naga origins. 🤩

Phaya's name (พญา) means lord, king or leader. While it can be applied to the nagas (พญานาค/phaya naak refers to the King of the Nagas) it is also used for Garuda (the Thai national symbol) – พญาครุฑ/phaya khroot, or Lord Garuda (and is what his name references in The Sign).

(above) Billy Patchanon as Phaya

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Chalothon's name (ชโลทร) is rare, but it is derived from Pali/Sanskrit and means river, sea or body of water, reflecting the watery homeland of his naga persona.

(above) Heng Asavarid as Chalothon

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Tharn's name (ธาร) also has a connection to his water-dwelling naga roots. Tharn/ธาร is short for ลำธาร/lam thaan and means stream, brook or creek (and he is thus a naga nong to Chalothon's phi).

(above) Babe Tanatat as Tharn/Wansa

However, Tharn is his chue len. His formal name is Wansa, and is the same Wansa in Wansarat (which the narrative lets us know at Ep.1 [3‌/4] 9.35).

(above) Freen Sarocha as Wansarat

Now Wansarat is spelt วรรณษารัตน์ in the subtitles (at Ep.1 [3‌/4] 9.02), and I can't find any translation of it that makes sense in the context of The Sign's world-building.

But Wansarat's name is spelt differently elsewhere on the Internet (on Thai drama websites, and movie databases, etc. like thaimovie.org), and I assume they've all based it on official releases from Idol Factory because the spelling is consistent across these other sources – it's วรรษารัตน์ there.

And Wansa/Wansarat spelt this way also reflects the nagas' dominion over water, because วรรษา/wansa (an archaic word, referenced in an older dictionary but not newer ones) means rain or rainy season (from the Sanskrit varsha) – in Thailand the nagas are also associated with rain control, and prayers are offered to them for timely and abundant rainfall when it is needed. (The -rat part of Wansarat is a feminine ending meaning jewel or gemstone, and may echo with meaning for speakers of Indian and Sri Lankan languages, since it's derived from the Pali/Sanskrit ratna).

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Just out of interest (because nobody asked 😂) some of these naga/garuda elements were also present in the early episodes of KinnPorsche – the den of the Theerapanyakuls (nagas, wealthy beings of the underworld) was full of watery elements (e.g., the waterfall, the various pools, and Tankhun's carp – which in Chinese belief are the original, natal form of dragons). The -nak in Kinn's formal first name Anakin (which is not a traditional Thai name) is also a nod at the word naga. Porsche had the tattoo of a fiery phoenix on his back, and was out of his element whenever water was concerned (e.g., his failed pool challenge, the mermaid costume punishment, his misadventure with the sprinkler when he tried to smoke in the store room – water vanquishing the flame). Kinn was unable to make fire when they were trapped in the forest, despite claiming to be friends with the flame, while Porsche could immediately do it.

But I didn't see the KinnPorsche narrative taking the naga/garuda themes much further than these random nods in the earlier episodes. Maybe it did (like Kinn and Porsche could be seen acclimatizing to each other's realms more), but I just couldn't be bothered to look at the show more closely since it didn't really stand up to deeper scrutiny, and after the first few episodes I just went along for the exhilaration of the ride instead. 👍

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Anyway, I'm totally bedazzled by the level of world-building going on in The Sign and look forward to more from the series. If the first episode is anything to go by, I think Executive Producer Saint Suppapong may be on to something! 😍

[clericofgale]

I was planning on writing something serious about Gale...but this came out instead. I have no idea why I'm posting something so unhinged. It's only Gale that make me this way. I sincerely believe Gale is a switch at heart, but since I've seen many wonderful treatises on bottom Gale I think I'll do the other side.

In this post I shall prove why Gale would make a great Dom/top and what I think he'd enjoy. NSFW.

This man is compassionate, open-minded, empathetic, and interested in your pleasure. He is a consent god. All traits of a S-tier dom. He'd be the supportive yet firm type. It's not only Halsin that exudes that energy, I think Gale does too! In my experience types like Gale are usually very good at it. Being a good top requires a good base of knowledge of the human psyche and anatomy. You're basically a sex nerd hacking brain chemicals while doing elaborate roleplay, and Gale is no stranger to research, and taking notes. You need good empathy to gain insight on your partner and feel what they might be feeling. It's very important for knowing when to stop. Being interested in your pleasure means he won't be purely taking. Good play to me is all about swapping and blending each other's energy and being a two-way street.

You always liked the idea of being worshipped. Adored. Obeyed...

This is a line from origin Gale that the player can choose. This man wants to be a god. He wants to be worshipped, and if he can't get that in the form of godhood I don't see why that can't be indulged elsewhere...

Speaking of indulging, when you tell Gale you prefer him naked at the party, he'll reply "I'll be sure to indulge you when you get home." with a smirk. And the teasing kiss where you are denied until Gale reciprocates is prime control material. He would enjoy teasing and denial.

He's a giver because he wants you to come undone and into a puddle of mess. He wishes to find your limits, what makes you tick and what doesn't. He will study every reaction, every weakness...and use it against you. He is an artist and your sounds of pleasure his notes in his newest piece. Gale would enjoy using his oratory talents to overstimulate you to tears, hands gripping your legs tight so you can't escape. You'll be teetering on the edge of wanting him to stop, but he never crests over the limit.

Look at the astral scene! He didn't lose concentration the whole time. Gale would love long elaborate scenes involving illusions. He enjoys showing you the wonders and limits of magic, things you've never seen before. The reassuring way he tells you to not be afraid because he's here with you during the boat scene is the exact tone he'd use while blowing your mind. Imagine the tools he will have at his disposal. Evrad's black tentacles? Mage hand? Simalcrum?

He's a teacher at heart, and have you heard the way he says "very good" during the weave teaching scene?? This man will be using praise and encouragements when you're most vulnerable. Gale enjoys positive reinforcement to get you to submit. Why use harsh words and punishments to get things done, when he can make you kneel all on your own? His buffing lines includes things like "Go on, excel" and "make me proud", and you do so very want to make him proud.

You just know he's great at aftercare. He's the only one to even think of bedding while bedding you, after all. He will always have reassuring words, or a fun joke to break the tension, and plenty of fluffy blankets on a warm bed.

In conclusion, Gale (especially postgame mortal Gale) would be great as a dom and thank you for coming to my unhinged Ted talk. *Bows*

[midnightwinterhawk]

The People* have been asking and I have finally done it! (*a handful of friends)

Here is a canon compliant and canon divergent/adjacent list. I capped it at 20 which wounds my soul but that just means I'll need to do a part two sometime.

It also pains me to do it but I'm excluding one of my favorite fics because I've decided to do a modern AU list next.

Dedicated with special thanks to the terrible enablers in the FeydPaul server.

As with anything Dune, mind the tags.

Last Stand of the Sardaukar by AnimationFan2006

2k | Mature | Sardaukar 

The Last Stand of the Sardaukar as witnessed by the Last Bashar...

The desert shall take the weak…

Obsidian and Wisteria by ashleigh

53k | Explicit | FeydPaul

The wedding of Princess Irulan gathers the lords and their families of the Imperium together for the first time in living memory.

Maybe I'll Show You the Way by battle_cat (@fuckyeahisawthat)

27k | Explicit | Paul/Chani

He doesn’t have to be doing this. She was born on the front lines, and she’ll be in this fight until they win or someone kills her. He could have gotten off-world by now, gone to live a safe life somewhere else. But he’s here, beside her.

If you saw that two-minute montage of Paul and Chani falling in love while fighting in a guerrilla war together and thought "I would like a novella-length elaboration on that theme," this is the fic for you. There's drama, action, romance, Fremen culture, politics, and meditations on what it means to be part of a generations-long armed resistance movement. Also, they fuck.

The Duke, The Baron, His Madonna & Her Monster by @darthpeezy

87k | Explicit | FeydPaul

Before he was named Harkonnen and long before he was inducted as Na-Baron, he was Feyd-Rautha Rabban, unimportant second son of an unimportant Count ruling over an unimportant fiefdom. The history of Empire would remember him as the most prolific killer in human history.

At the center of Imperial power, he would encounter another who he was inextricably drawn to. A boy with green eyes and a hawk as his heraldry that challenged Feyd at every step. It would not be the last time Feyd-Rautha met Paul Atreides.

Were the currents to time kinder, it would have ended then. But theirs was a union ten thousand years in the making. The shackles of fate are not quite so easy to break and the Known Universe bled for it.

Or, Feyd is down bad for Paul, Paul is equally obsessed, and everyone else suffers.

what gentle violence (a future untold series) by @desert-mouse

10k | Explicit | FeydPaul

"You would’ve been a prize,” Feyd said. He drew back, hovering above Paul. Their noses brushed. When Feyd spoke again, his raspy voice hummed against Paul’s mouth. “If the Bene Gesserit would’ve had their way, if you’d been mine, Giedi Prime would’ve called you god and Arrakis would’ve called our child messiah.”

“And what would you have called me?” Paul asked.

heshiigiishii by doomcountry

5.4k | Mature | FeydPaul

Feyd-Rautha dreams of his bride.

in its own house (here we aren't, so quickly series) by en passant (@katabaesis)

7.5k | Mature | FeydPaul

the ego is not master in its own house - Sigmund Freud, 1917

Feyd-Rautha does not die in the duel, and things change. Both Paul and Feyd go on some journeys of self-discovery and in some ways, self-annihilation.

I Learned The Voices Died With Me (I Learned The Voices Died With Me series) by @foxgloveinspace

30k | Explicit | FeydPaul

He could still feel sand beneath his finger nails, and despite the fact that he had many dreams come true, none had felt so real, and to have dreams within his dreams was unheard of. He flipped his hands over, resting his palms against his knees, his real skin and flesh knees, warm beneath his hands and slid his eyes shut. He took a deep breath, kept taking them until they didn’t shake him to his core, let himself get lost in the rhythm. When he opened his eyes again, he was still in his room, and nothing had changed. It was early, early enough that even the kitchen servants would just be waking up. He was so much colder than he had been in years. - After a year of being the Padishah Emperor, Paul Atreides wakes up as a seventeen year old again. He doesn't know how he got there, but he's willing to do anything too keep his father from going back to Arrakis, even if that anything is a plan that he had thought of years ago and never thought would come to fruition.

shadowplay by @hootaran

3k | Mature | FeydPaul

“What's this play about again?” Paul asks, remembering some of the details but more so to fill a bit of the uncomfortable space between him and the murmuring guests dotting the lobby, darting their eyes at him from under harsh makeup and brocades. One woman narrows ink-lined eyes at him.

“It's a simple story, really,” Feyd answers softly, following his line of sight and flashing a grin at the woman, who—thankfully—responds with a tight smile and looks away sheepishly. “A fairy tale. A princess is locked away in the mountains and waits her whole life for someone to save her, and eventually someone does. But it…goes wrong. You'll see. It's better experienced than explained.

--

feyd-rautha takes paul to see a harkonnen shadow puppet show on giedi prime.

Like A Slow Blade by @jolinarjackson, @acabspocky

77k | Mature | Paul & Gurney, FeydPaul

After House Atreides suffers a devastating attack by House Harkonnen on Arrakis, a now orphaned Paul is forced into an arrangement to live as Baron Harkonnen’s ward, alongside the Baron’s nephew Feyd-Rautha. With only Gurney remaining as his protection and Feyd-Rautha unexpectedly becoming something like an ally, Paul is determined to find a way to escape before they lose their lives… or themselves.

salt water and sand by @ladybundle

7k | Teen | Feyd & Paul

This planet is too cold and wet. Feyd’s boots sink into the soft, damp sand as he makes his way towards the rocks. The thick mist clings heavily to his body, dampening his jacket. It's like walking through a fucking cloud. When he reaches the rocks, it becomes clear that they are actually a series of small pools with odd sorts of vegetation in the clear water. Feyd crouches beside one curiously, sticking his finger into the pool and then bringing it to his lips. He licks his wet finger, wrinkling his nose immediately at the awful taste.

“You can’t drink salt water.”

Feyd jumps a little at the sound of Paul Atreides’ imperious voice.

the sweetest thing by ladybundle

17k | Explicit | FeydPaul

“You wanted to kiss me before,” Paul says, referring to when they came in. “You like kissing?”

Feyd doesn’t say anything. He wants to reach forward and grab him, pull him close and feel his unblemished skin under his mouth, his teeth. Feyd does like kissing. But he’s not going to say that. He already feels a little unbalanced, cock definitely interested now, breath picking up as Paul moves closer. He smells good.

———

The Atreides and Harkonnen houses are joined by marriage after all.

Corrida by mnabokov

19k | Explicit | FeydPaul 

“It is not a good morning,” Gurney growled, “When the son of Duke Leto is to be married to a Harkonnen.”

lost in the citadel by nighimpossible

11k | Explicit | FeydPaul

Lady Jessica, the royal concubine of Duke Leto and wife in all but name, bore her first child on January 1st, 10175. The Bene Gesserit were pleased with the result and considered Lady Jessica’s mission complete. But there was a great secret that House Atreides held during these first fragile years of the child’s life: though no one knew it at the time, Muad’dib Atreides had been brought into this world. The name Muad’dib was born with has been stricken from the interstellar record, and not a single scholar in present day knows what Duke Leto and Lady Jessica originally selected. What we do know is that by age three, Leto and Jessica started referring to Muad’dib as Paul.

By the time Muad’dib turned five years of age, the Bene Gesserit knew that they had been fooled. 

— From “Manual of Muad’dib” by the Princess Irulan

AFAB Paul Atreides is forced to wed Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen after centuries of careful breeding by the Bene Gesserit falls into place.

A Time to Rise and a Time to Fall (orphan_account)

14k | Explicit | Paul/Duncan

Duncan Idaho's mission to the desert planet of Arrakis to find the Fremen is overshadowed by Paul's prescience dreams.

bloodright (bloodrites series) by @rebelontherocks  

9k | Explicit | FeydPaul

Feyd-Rautha sees the future and it changes everything. Paul finds freedom in captivity.

bloodties (bloodrites series) by rebelontherocks 

13k | Explicit | FeydPaul

“I’ll teach you how to resist the Voice,” he said, turning Feyd-Rautha’s head this way and that, as if examining an animal before deciding whether to buy it. “Why?” “Because it will be more rewarding for us both when you give in of your own free will.” --- Feyd-Rautha is spared, and given new purpose. The blood will flow same as it always has.

And a few of my favorite WIPs (as of post date)

The Archer (The Prey) by doeheart 

14/15 | 63k | Teen | Paul/Duncan

    Duncan reaches up to cup Paul’s face; he brushes a thumb over Paul’s cheek. He tilts Paul’s face this way and that.

    “You look like you never sleep.”

    Paul can barely breathe. He doesn’t know what to say. He hasn't slept, not well, anyway. He wakes up early or in fits in the night, and he can never escape those strange dreams. They’re getting harder to shake during the day.

    Duncan’s hand drops away.

    “You can stay with me,” Duncan offers. “Anytime you need. Tonight, if you want. If it will help you sleep.”

    ***

    Paul has trouble sleeping. More accurately, he has trouble with his dreams. Duncan Idaho notices something off with his boy, and he offers Paul a place to stay. Paul only has to take him up on it.

All Paths Lead Into Darkness by @kalipeda

21/? | 26k | Explicit | FeydPaul

He who can destroy a thing controls it.

This Paul knows.

Yet slowly, despite all of his efforts, he is being corroded away by this thing that exists between them. This terrible, agonizing thing.

Truly, it is the slow blade which penetrates the shield.

Maktub by @lacrymosa-91

8/? | 36k | Explicit | FeydPaul 

The threads the Bene Gesserit weave are intricate and ever enduring, schemes within schemes, contingencies within contingencies.

Jessica gives birth to a son instead of a daughter despite explicitly given orders. It should have altered the path forced upon her, the sacrifice that was to be made of her child in the hands of a brutal and violent house. Instead her choice triggers a dormant Bene Gesserit gene engineering not witnessed for millennia.

—o0o—

Paul can feel himself hyperventilating, mind spinning from the sheer implications of everything he has just heard.

“The Reverent Mother instructed me explicitly. We were to let him touch you. It was a curious sight, the way he held you, almost despite himself…so incongruously gentle for such a brutal creature.” She nearly smiles and Paul shakes with the sudden urge to snarl in her face. “Your fever broke. You settled calm for the first time in weeks.”

“This is a lie-“

“You are connected now. A change has been triggered in you and in the Na-Baron Harkonnen as well. The Reverent Mother says it is in your blood. There is no cure for it.”

[nights-at-crystarium]

i just wanted to pop by and gush about how incredibly well written vivi is because GOD. his story unfolding has made me reconsider several story beats about my wol and thats an amazing thing

theres two things that i think uve done especially well with his storytelling, being that vivi feels like an almost complete enigma to the reader, despite how intimate this story is, and the fact that vivi feels incredibly human - almost TOO human to be comfortable with

so to elaborate on the first point - i think a lot of us (and certainly i can) echo thancreds sentiment that he doesn't know vivian rell, because as intimate as this story can get with his pov, in the end, much like someone you'd meet in real life, we don't know much about him before the point we meet him, and any glimpses we get just signal that theres so much more to him than we get to see. and as much as we DO know about him, i find that every time he does one of his blank, furrowed stares that signal he's thinking something, my brain practically lights on fire trying to figure out what he's considering. to that end i really like how enigmatic uve made him from a storytelling perspective, because it makes him feel so much more real!!! i honestly look forward a lot to learning more fragments (heh) of him and slowly piecing together a puzzle of him as the story goes on. i just want to rotate him in my head lol

but also, this does segue into my other point really well, which is the fact that vivis position as wol really seems to wear on him, and he seems for lack of a better word, completely exhausted! i know (myself included) write their wols with a trait of an almost unbreakable, iron will, which is very much still true in vivis case (again, anyone who gets to the point of shadowbringers without flat out giving up is incredibly strong by default) but showing him at his wits end, exhausted with the burdens of a hero, someone just so throughly *done* with what is, realistically, a pretty shit job is well... yeah! of course he is! he's only human, and he's what, saved the world 3 times now? seen countless die before him, powerless to save them, of course he's numb. the fact that the most defining experiences of the first for him are filled with mostly such... benign experiences, and that the major, climatic moments of shadowbringers get as much fanfare as a forlong gaze, or a like. him hanging out with his fairy bestie is such a cool storytelling decision. (also before i ramble about this the decision to not even show tesleen is such an excellent decision bc like. it makes sense for him for this to not be such a significant moment. shes just another death, another tally to the thousands hes already seen. or maybe im reading WAYYY too hard into a decision to not highjack this love story with plot) basically, what i've been gushing about is the fact that vivi feels very much like a whole person, and is probably one of the most well realised wols ive ever read about. and his relationships with the world leaders, and this impossible burden hes forced to shoulder has gotten me to reconsider how i write my wol, because yeah! any hero might be strong-willed and resilient, but theyre still human, and the burden of a warrior of light is maybe, a little too much for anyone to bear.

i hope u could at least make something out of my rambles, but honestly to sum it all up i am incredibly captivated by vivi. i originally read fragments because i like ANY wolgraha content but now, i come back almost exclusively to see how vivi's story unfolds, and how graha eventually comes into the fold too. hes such a fascinating character, and i think youve done an incredible job of creating a well rounded hero, full of humanity!!! (also, if you want, feel free to post this on ur blog!!)

I think I shat myself like 5 times while reading this (positive)

Vivi being an enigma wasn't really part of the plan. We have a pool that's his lore, things I wanna tell, and a bottleneck through which it has to go. The comic format forces me to consider what bits of info to deliver when, there's only so much I can tell at a time. One deliberate choice I made is completely burn the bridge between ARR and ShB, skip, leave it empty. That already sparks questions when we see a different Vivi at the beginning of ShB (and gives me leeway, time to write with more nuance, I didn't Think about HW-SB in such scrupulous detail as ShB).

I wanted to tell a primarily ShB story from the start, but had less ambition, and planned to condense the angsty bits that you're reading nowadays into an infodump told by Vivi to no one (to the reader). Changing the receiving party to a tangible character who's eager to learn (Exarch) made the info easier to digest and anchored it in the world. This change, fwiw, happened in like 2022 while I drew the ARR arc, saw the warm reception, and got more excited about my thing. I constantly learn and try to improve, writing's a new toy that brings me tons of fun.

So, when I learned the new trick - telling things through other characters - I thought, why not make everyone slightly wrong, or rather, with a specific snapshot of Vivi in their head. Same happens irl, people only know the version of you that they're exposed to, the only person who knows the full and real you is you.

That brings me to the next point, why Vivi feels so human: I made him not as a wol/hero, but a guy I wanna ship with Exarch, his foil. Obligatory note it was dumb of me to ignore Emet's existence in that case, but that's already changed. Exarch denies himself the simple human joys, he plots his own fucking death, so I thought I'd give him a guy that teaches him how to enjoy being alive again. That was THE foundation of Vivi, his core. He's a manic pixie dream boy.

Then I started asking how and why: why he falls for Exarch specifically instead of ARRRaha? He's confident, selfish, casual (these traits are what Exarch lacks), emotionally intelligent, where did that come from? He must've had an utterly normal life and loving family before he became a hero. He grew up being appreciated and happy. OH, then his ass must LOATHE the current situation because he can't go back to that normal life! So on, so forth.

i find that every time he does one of his blank, furrowed stares that signal he's thinking something, my brain practically lights on fire trying to figure out what he's considering.

This's me carefully dropping the breadcrumbs and hoping that you notice them, and you go HOLY SHIT BREADCRUMBS, this's so validating ;w; <3 This's overtly called a story hook, though I prefer "door". So far this story's only opened doors, as in hinted at more stuff without immediately showing it. I love it when questions get delayed answers, when you get time to stew on it and build up anticipation, then, when the door finally closes, it's much more satisfying. I keep in mind all the doors I've opened, if something provokes a question, it's by design.

(also before i ramble about this the decision to not even show tesleen is such an excellent decision bc like. it makes sense for him for this to not be such a significant moment. shes just another death, another tally to the thousands hes already seen. or maybe im reading WAYYY too hard into a decision to not highjack this love story with plot)

You're 100% correct!! I'm not retelling the canon ShB story from a default wol pov, this's a custom thing focused on ships, therefore anything that doesn't contribute to said ships gets cut. You may read what's NOT shown as what Vivi doesn't pay attention to.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, this gave me so much motivation like you wouldn't know ;//////;