#SO YOU KNOW. Riveting dialogue going on between them right now

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Chapter 4 is taking much longer than anticipated to edit (literally spent the whole day on it and I'm only halfway done), but I'm still halfway done with it!! And I'll see if I can't hammer away at it tomorrow as well.

[queer-whatchamacallit]

So I decided I was going to rewatch The Bear and take notes, partly bc autism and partly bc I want more interesting details for fics and just to get to know the characters even better

(Also, I’ve been curious about what makes Carmy blow up vs what makes him dissociate)

So here’s some things I noticed that you could also pick apart like I have here

Carmy has his apron on in the dream, maybe it’s just because that’s what he’s been wearing pretty much all the time for the past couple weeks or because his work is so tied with his family (w/ bears as symbolism for that) but idk

Him waking up on a random counter in The Beef confirms my headcanon that he falls asleep in weird places OR he fell asleep in the office and sleepwalked there

In this ep, any imagery or mention of Michael is pretty much always tied to religious imagery

Carmy calls her Sugar and him Mike, I’m always inclined to have him say Mikey instead but I don’t think he ever does. Also, Fak calls Carm Bear :]

“What’s UPS?” Is the first in a long string of times where someone tries to talk about something other than the kitchen, and it just doesn’t click with Carm

Syd’s “I know who you are” and Carmy’s “Yeah?” and he just listens to her completely riveted is so funny to me. Tell this man you know he was the CDC at one of the best restaurants in the United States of America and it’s like saying “walk” to a dog

Carm’s “I’m saying something >:[,” starts the classic Berzatto dilemma of no one listening to each other but wanting to be listened to

Reminder that Syd can speak Spanish :D

Richie talks about their “Italian heritage” and later says abt the labels “this is the most Polish shit ever,” which show how close he fits in with the Berzattos and his dislike of his bio family (Jerimovich is Polish right.?)

Richie talks about putting his family back together and him not coming home, and Carmy instantly dissociates

Him asking “Why didn’t he leave it to you then?” Not like a comeback, but a genuine question gets me every time

Carmy’s not good with words, so while this is something that just makes fun dialogue, in universe, it’s interesting to see how often his responses are parroted (ex: Marcus’ “that shit was straight up fire” and Carm’s “Straight up done now Chef”)

When it’s work time, it’s work time. When Fak stops looking at Ballbreaker to mention that he wasn’t able to go to the funeral but he sent flowers, Carm just says he wasn’t there either and swiftly changes the subject back to work

The three siblings and Richie all have gold necklaces. When Sugar shows up, I don’t know if hers was one of the matching ones, and I couldn’t figure out what the charm was on it

Tina says “Why doesn’t your sister come around here anymore?” Implying that she used to. I also feel like T wouldn’t have asked if Sugar stopped coming when she moved out and didn’t have to do what her mom told her to. Maybe Mikey kicked Sugar out of the restaurant too, but she wasn’t too bothered by it

Unlike with Richie, when Nat calls him out on not saying hello, just trying to get work done, he listens, and he slows down. Richie feels like his space in the family is shaky, so he’ll take a lot more shit from them while Nat won’t. She inherited a temper, just like her brothers, I feel like she’s in therapy and likely tackled how to stand up for herself when her family was treating her like shit, and she’s the “normal” middle child between a loud older brother and a worrying little brother, so she probably had to fight for her family’s attention at every turn

Nat mentions their mom and Carm’s eye contact instantly breaks, and it seems like he has to remind himself to breathe

His stutter shows up when arguing that he doesn’t want Jimmy to buy it

Carm’s “I’m gonna fix this place” vs Sug’s “No one’s asking you to” just hits so hard for some reason

When Carm tries to flee back inside, she uses “I love you,” like it’s an argument to keep him from throwing himself back into the restaurant or as a reminder that there’s people out there who want him to be doing well when she thinks the restaurant is hurting him

Sweeps is more of a background character but omg he just quietly looks out for everyone :] (he made sure Syd got to try Carm’s beef recipe :]]]])

Fak was also close with Mikey. I don’t know why I imagine Fak as being not quite as close with everyone as Richie, but they came to Christmas too, edit: Fak’s “but it got fuckin dark at the end” showed that he too knew something was up when Carm didn’t

Carm very much gives off the vibe of being allergic to cats, but I’m going to ignore that and squeeze in my headcanon that he loves Fak’s cats, Ralph and they love him

Richie’s dialogue is such a fun juxtaposition of him trying to feel superior to whoever he’s arguing with with large vocabulary and overconfidence but often falling back into vulgar insults because that’s what he knows best. Also, later in the ep he talks about “up in Napa” with the foie gras and shit to mock Carmy, but Napa isn’t up from them, it’s in California

Richie says “You have no fuckin idea what you’re doing here” and it’s like a switch, Carmy’s comebacks and annoyance with Richie stop, and he’s completely dissociated again. Richie shoves cans of spaghetti sauce into his arms and slaps at his face to steady him because he can probably tell something’s not right with him, but he just ends up leaving him to it

One of the Berzattos main love languages is physical touch via back and shoulder pats

And finally, Carm tosses the can of spaghetti sauce which I’m saying is because he just needs them to fucking listen and trust him when he’s saying no more spaghetti but there’s probably also some kind of Michael significance there too

Edit: I think I just had the realization that family stuff is what makes him dissociate while work stuff tends to make him panic and snap at people. It makes sense, snapping at his family would only escalate things and dissociating separates him from something he’s expected to fix. And Claire is kinda off in her category but falls under the panic response

So yeah!!

That’s pretty much what I got from 1x01 - System

I don’t know when or if I’ll do more of these, but this was so much fun, literally love dissecting these sad little goobers

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM SINGIN' IN THE RAIN *  assorted dialogue from the 1952 film, adjust as necessary

hey! do something! call me a cab!

i said some awful things that night, didn't i?

tell them to go home.

everybody go until further notice!

wait a minute! i am just about to be brilliant.

keep your eyes riveted on me.

we've talked the whole night through.

are you sure it's all right? being seen with me?

don't you touch me!

are you doing anything tonight?

what do you think of it?

remind me to give you a raise.

from where i stand, the sun is shining all over the place.

did somebody get paid for writing that dialogue?

the show must go on! come rain, come shine, come snow, come sleet, the show must go on!

you've never looked lovelier.

i buy four or five a month.

i'd rather kiss a tarantula.

i just had to tell you how good you were.

what a glorious feeling.

i'm an actress.

no no, don't go.

nobody's got that much money.

here's one thing i learned from the movies!

you're a beautiful woman.

you got that poor kid fired!

i'd like to see you act. what are you in right now?

you're nothing but a shadow.

don't tell me, it's a flat tire.

you've got to show a movie at a party. it's hollywood law.

that's ridiculous. everybody knows you're in love with me.

we're missing every other word! you've got to talk into the mic!

at last i can start suffering.

tell me the truth. am i a good actor?

what's the first thing an actor learns?

hey, what'd you say that for?

i'd like to break every bone in your body.

thanks a lot!

what do you have to be so conceited about?

what's wrong with the way i talk?

she can't act, she can't sing, she can't dance. a triple threat.

you couldn't kiss me like that and not mean it just a teensy weensy bit.

you're not through!

you've seen one, you've seen them all.

i never heard of anything so low. why did you do it?

i can't make love to a bush!

laugh all you want, but at least the stage is a dignified profession.

it'll be a sensation!

i happen to be in love with her!

why bother to shoot this film?

meet the greatest actor in the world.

look at me. i've got no fame, i've got no glory, i've got no big mansions, i've got no money.

you'll have to wear a beard for that one, of course.

you don't mean that.

i can't get her out of my mind.

that means i'm out of a job.

i'm no actor. never was.

at least you'e taking it lying down.

you saw one once?

try to get this straight: there is nothing between us. there has never been anything between us. just air.

what's the big idea? am i dumb or something?

you're going to new york and then some day we'll all hear of you, won't we?

everybody used to wear them.

believe me, i don't like her half as much as i hate you.

i'm glad you turned up!

you keep away from me!

sticks and stones may break my bones...

oh, you don't mean that.

people just don't do things like that.

you... you were kissing him!

i'm not in a play right now, but i will be.

i've had one motto which i've always lived by: dignity. always dignity.

what do they think i am? dumb or something?

let me hear you read your line.

i don't go to the movies much.

movies are entertaining enough for the masses, but the personalities on the screen don't impress me.

[xinxiaogato]

— live to tell the tail

summary. you unfortunately lived in a universe where general gorou had found out ms. hina was… himself. and just your luck: gorou’s first impression of you was a crazed devotee of the ms. hina fan club, but you had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. will you live to tell the tail?

love interests. gn!reader x a watatsumi general, an inazuman vagrant, the balladeer, and the kreideprinz.

warnings. infinite pet puns, referenced character death, weapons, swearing, blood, alcohol, harassment, and mentions of war.

word count. 1,091

chapter twenty-one ⌇ labrador-able

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you didn’t know how to confront the weird feeling in your chest.

since you were little, you had read so many romance books—a royal ruler falling for a knight, enemies growing into lovers, a universe in which a red string tied two strangers—to the point where their plotlines blurred and jumbled together. you watched the tension between childhood friends, love triangles with a painfully obvious victor, and marriages of convenience…

…so romance should be right up your alley… right?

wrong. very wrong. now that you had been thrust into a scenario yourself, you didn’t have the slightest clue what to do about the chaos in your chest, which only metastasized at the thought of gorou…

…so were you going to catch your breath, keep creating as much distance as possible between you and him, and try to figure out the next course of action?

yup—

“reader!”

your heart plummeted into your stomach at that voice.

you spun around to see the general climbing up the stairs, skipping a few at a time, and anchoring his gaze to you the whole way. he stopped on the landing with his chest heaving up and down as you grappled with your fight-or-flight response.

shit shit shit shit shit

his eyes a bit pleading, gorou shouted from below, “may i accompany you wherever you’re going?” this exclamation turned more heads than a person could count, and you knew right there and then that this would be the talk of the town for a while.

“is that… the general of the watatsumi army?”

“what business would he have with mr. yamamoto’s editor?”

“sir gorou…!” you exclaimed. “long time, no see! um, i’m actually sort of on a tight schedule…”

gorou completely straightened up, including his ears. “...do you not wish to see me?”

the murmurs diffusing through the spectators on the street died down so that they could catch what would happen next. chewing the inside of your lip, you balked at the prospect of even speaking to gorou right now and casted a nervous glance at your hand that was resting on a whitestone standing lamp. it was the same hand that an inazuman vagrant kissed tenderly and that an inazuman general held a number of times.

and it was growing very, very clammy. all eyes were riveted to the scene that you—a background character with “so much work…” popping up above your head every few seconds as a dialogue box—were starring in. the game developers had left you with a script you stuck to verbatim, but you were never trained to improv! how much fun was it for the gods of celestia to watch this non-playable character get hurled out of a frying pan and into the fire? to watch them try, like a cat, to catch a laser and then slam into a bunch of obstacles?

and how was it possible for you to be associated with so many vision bearers despite being born with a natural hair color and both parents in the picture?

oh, archons, you just wanted to live peacefully.

tl;dr no, you did not want to see gorou. not right now.

your lack of a response dispirited gorou greatly. his insecurity snowballed because of how he was portraying himself in front of all these people, but he was even more worried that he had somehow discomfited you.

the kiss…

gorou smacked a hand over his mouth in mortification. it must have been the kiss from last month, which definitely lost him sleep during most nights at fort fujitou. as expected, gorou had put a nail into his own coffin by acting on a hare-brained impulse that fateful day, but since he couldn’t just keel over and die right now, he whirled around to head back to kokomi, the one who always had the answer.

“wait, gorou!” you burst out unthinkingly. your feet began scampering down the steps but missed one in the process. arms flailing about, you screamed and closed your eyes for the worst as you sailed right toward the stair landing gorou was on.

“reader!”

you plowed straight into the watatsumi general, who tried his best to steady you, but the impact toppled over and smashed you both into the ground, knocking the wind out of your lungs. with his arms around your middle and your hand clutching the back of his head to break his fall, this made for a very compromising position for all of inazuma city to see you two in.

“ugh…” he pried one eye open to see that your eyes were still screwed shut, and you were as motionless as a rock on top of him. gorou was attacked by a serious sense of déjà vu from this predicament and couldn’t help but snort.

it became a tradition for us to collide head-on when we meet, gorou noted.

“s-sorry, that… wasn’t supposed to happen,” you exhaled lamely while peeping at him, but he didn’t appear irritated or agitated that he was in this mess with you. rather, gorou looked…

…quite happy to see you. painted in the place of his mouth was a little curve with a canine tooth sticking out on the side. 

how can someone be this adorable?

blushing madly, you slapped your hands over his face to obscure his vision.

“ah, what—!?” gorou abandoned your waist and tried to peel your hands off, but they wouldn’t budge.

“d-don’t look at me!” you exclaimed, which caused him to loosen his clamp that was snaked around your wrists.

“why…?" gorou asked, frazzled. "a-are you okay, reader?”

all the bystanders did not intend to indulge in the whys and wherefores of how you two ended up like that and were still like that. damn, they’re shameless, they all thought with contempt.

however, the sudden visit of the guuji had everyone burying their heads in the sand. their deep-seated fear of becoming her next victim superseded their nosiness.

“oh, what do we have here?” crooned a melodious voice at the top of the stairs. you practically snapped your neck to see who the owner of that voice was, and gorou sat up so fast that he narrowly missed bonking your head.

“a general and an editor?” the pink-haired shrine maiden chuckled into her hand. “quite an interesting pair.”

“guuji yae!” you shrieked in astonishment as gorou snarled at the same time, “you!”

and two interesting reactions, yae observed with a hint of a smile as she descended down the stairs in all her glory. “spare me a fraction of your time, will you?”

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[nitrateglow]

Favorite films discovered in 2020

Well, this year sucked. I did see some good movies though. Some even made after I was born!

Perfect Blue (dir. Satoshi Kon, 1997)

I watch a lot of thrillers and horror movies, but precious few actually unsettle me in any lasting way. This cannot be said of Perfect Blue, which gave me one of the most visceral cinematic experiences of my life. Beyond the brief flashes of bloodletting (you will never look at a screwdriver the same way again), the scariest thing about Perfect Blue might be how the protagonist has both her life and her sense of self threatened by the villains. The movie’s prescience regarding public persona is also incredibly eerie, especially in our age of social media. While anime is seen as a very niche interest (albeit one that has become more mainstream in recent years), I would highly recommend this movie to thriller fans, whether they typically watch anime or not. It’s right up there with the best of Hitchcock or De Palma.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (dir. Sergio Leone, 1966)

Nothing is better than when an iconic movie lives up to the hype. Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, and Lee Van Cleef play off of one another perfectly. I was impressed by Wallach as Tuco in particular: his character initially seems like a one-dimensional greedy criminal, but the performance is packed with wonderful moments of humanity. Do I really need to say anything about the direction? Or about the wonderful storyline, which takes on an almost mythic feel in its grandeur? Or that soundtrack?

Die Niebelungen (both movies) (dir. Fritz Lang, 1924)

I did NOT expect to love these movies as much as I did. That they would be dazzlingly gorgeous I never doubted: the medieval world of the story is brought to vivid life through the geometrical mise en scene and detailed costuming. However, the plot itself is so, so riveting, never losing steam over the course of the four hours it takes to watch both movies. The first half is heroic fantasy; the second half involves a revenge plot of almost Shakespearean proportions. This might actually be my favorite silent Fritz Lang movie now.

Muppet Treasure Island (dir. Brian Henson, 1996)

I understand that people have different tastes and all, but how does this movie have such a mixed reception? It’s absolutely hilarious. How could anybody get through the scene with “THA BLACK SPOT AGGHHHHHHH” and not declare this a masterpiece of comedy? And I risk being excommunicated from the Muppet fandom for saying it, but I like this one more than The Great Muppet Caper. It’s probably now my second favorite Muppet movie.

Belle de Jour (dir. Luis Bunuel, 1967)

I confess I’m not terribly fond of “but was it real???” movies. They tend to feel gimmicky more often than not. Belle de Jour is an exception. This is about more than a repressed housewife getting her kicks working as a daytime prostitute. The film delves into victim blaming, trauma, class, and identity-- sure, this sounds academic and dry when I put it that way, but what I’m trying to say is that these are very complicated characters and the blurring of fantasy and reality becomes thought-provoking rather than trite due to that complexity.

Secondhand Lions (dir. Tim McCanlies, 2003)

The term “family movie” is often used as a synonym for “children’s movie.” However, there is an important distinction: children’s movies only appeal to kids, while family movies retain their appeal as one grows up. Secondhand Lions is perhaps a perfect family movie, with a great deal more nuance than one might expect regarding the need for storytelling and its purpose in creating meaning for one’s life. It’s also amazingly cast: Haley Joel Osment is excellent as the juvenile lead, and Michael Caine and Robert Duvall steal the show as Osment’s eccentric uncles.

The Pawnbroker (dir. Sidney Lumet, 1964)

Controversial in its day for depicting frontal nudity, The Pawnbroker shocks today for different reasons. As the top review of the film on IMDB says, we’re used to victims of great atrocities being presented as sympathetic, good people in fiction. Here, Rod Steiger’s Sol Nazerman subverts such a trope: his suffering at the hands of the Nazis has made him a hard, closed-off person, dismissive of his second wife (herself also a survivor of the Holocaust), cold to his friendly assistant, and bitter towards himself. The movie follows Nazerman’s postwar life, vividly presenting his inner pain in a way that is almost too much to bear. Gotta say, Steiger gives one of the best performances I have ever seen in a movie here: he’s so three-dimensional and complex. The emotions on his face are registered with Falconetti-level brilliance.

The Apartment (dir. Billy Wilder, 1960)

While not the most depressing Christmas movie ever, The Apartment certainly puts a good injection of cynicism into the season. I have rarely seen a movie so adept at blending comedy, romance, and satire without feeling tone-deaf. There are a lot of things to praise about The Apartment, but I want to give a special shoutout to the dialogue. “Witty” dialogue that sounds natural is hard to come by-- so often, it just feels smart-assy and strained. Not here.

Anatomy of a Murder (dir. Otto Preminger, 1959)

I’m not big into courtroom dramas, but Anatomy of a Murder is a big exception. Its morally ambiguous characters elevate it from being a mere “whodunit” (or I guess in the case of this movie, “whydunit”), because if there’s something you’re not going to get with this movie, it’s a clear answer as to what happened on the night of the crime. Jimmy Stewart gives one of his least characteristic performances as the cynical lawyer, and is absolutely brilliant. 

Oldboy (dir. Park Chan-Wook, 2003)

Oldboy reminded me a great deal of John Webster’s 17th century tragedy The Duchess of Malfi. Both are gruesome, frightening, and heartbreaking works of art, straddling the line between sensationalism and intelligence, proving the two are not mutually exclusive. It’s both entertaining and difficult to watch. The thought of revisiting it terrifies me but I feel there is so much more to appreciate about the sheer craft on display.

Family Plot (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1976)

Family Plot is an enjoyable comedy; you guys are just mean. I know in an ideal world, Hitchcock’s swan song would be a great thriller masterpiece in the vein of Vertigo or Psycho. Family Plot is instead a silly send-up of Hitchcock’s favorite tropes, lampooning everything from the dangerous blonde archetype (with not one but two characters) to complicated MacGuffin plots. You’ll probably demand my film buff card be revoked for my opinion, but to hell with it-- this is my favorite of Hitchcock’s post-Psycho movies.

My Best Girl (dir. Sam Taylor, 1927)

Mary Pickford’s farewell to silent film also happens to be among her best movies. It’s a simple, charming romantic comedy starring her future husband, Charles “Buddy” Rogers. Pickford also gets to play an adult character here, rather than the little girl parts her public demanded she essay even well into her thirties. She and Rogers are sweet together without being diabetes-inducing, and the comedy is often laugh out loud funny. It even mocks a few tropes that anyone who watches enough old movies will recognize and probably dislike-- such as “break his heart to save him!!” (my personal most loathed 1920s/1930s trope).

Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-ho, 2019)

This feels like such a zeitgeist movie. It’s about the gap between the rich and the poor, it’s ironic,  it’s depressing, it’s unpredictable as hell. I don’t like terms like “modern classic,” because by its very definition, a classic can only be deemed as such after a long passage of time, but I have a good feeling Parasite will be considered one of the definitive films of the 2010s in the years to come.

Indiscreet (dir. Stanley Donen, 1958)

Indiscreet often gets criticized for not being Notorious more or less, which is a shame. It’s not SUPPOSED to be-- it’s cinematic souffle and both Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant elevate that light material with their perfect chemistry and comedic timing. It’s also refreshing to see a rom-com with characters over 40 as the leads-- and the movie does not try to make them seem younger or less mature, making the zany moments all the more hilarious. It’s worth seeing for Cary Grant’s jig (picture above) alone.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (dir. Joseph Sargent, 1974)

This movie embodies so much of what I love about 70s cinema: it’s gritty, irreverent, and hard-hitting. It’s both hilarious and suspenseful-- I was tense all throughout the run time. I heard there was a remake and it just seems... so, so pointless when you already have this gem perfect as it is.

They All Laughed (dir. Peter Bogdonavich, 1981)

Bogdonavich’s lesser known homage to 1930s screwball comedy is also a weirdly autumnal movie. Among the last gasps of the New Hollywood movement, it is also marks the final time Audrey Hepburn would star in a theatrical release. The gentle comedy, excellent ensemble cast (John Ritter is the standout), and the mature but short-lived romance between Hepburn and Ben Gazarra’s characters make this a memorably bittersweet gem.

The Palm Beach Story (dir. Preston Sturges, 1942)

Absolutely hilarious. I was watching this with my parents in the room. My mom tends to like old movies while my dad doesn’t, but both of them were laughing aloud at this one. Not much else to say about it, other than I love Joel McCrea the more movies I see him in-- though it’s weird seeing him in comedies since I’m so used to him as a back-breaking man on the edge in The Most Dangerous Game!

Nothing Sacred (dir. William Wellman, 1937)

I tend to associate William Wellman with the pre-code era, so I’ve tried delving more into his post-code work. Nothing Sacred is easily my favorite of those films thus far, mainly for Carole Lombard but also because the story still feels pretty fresh due to the jabs it takes at celebrity worship and moral hypocrisy. For a satire, it’s still very warm towards its characters, even when they’re misbehaving or deluding themselves, so it’s oddly a feel-good film too.

Applause (dir. Rouben Mamoulian, 1929)

I love watching early sound movies, but my inner history nerd tends to enjoy them more than the part of me that, well, craves good, well-made movies. Most early sound films are pure awkward, but there’s always an exception and Applause is one of them. While the plot’s backstage melodrama is nothing special, the way the story is told is super sophisticated and expressive for this period of cinema history, and Helen Morgan makes the figure of the discarded burlesque queen seem truly human and tragic rather than merely sentimental.

Topaz (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1969)

Another late Hitchcock everyone but me seems to hate. After suffering through Torn Curtain, I expected Hitchcock’s other cold war thriller was going to be dull as dishwater, but instead I found an understated espionage movie standing in stark contrast to the more popular spy movies of the period. It’ll never be top Hitchcock, of course-- still it was stylish and enjoyable, with some truly haunting moments. I think it deserves more appreciation than it’s been given.

What were your favorite cinematic discoveries in 2020?

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

[ppersonna]

planning forever - myg

↳ summary-  you have special news to deliver to your husband, yoongi.  and you find your inspiration to do so in a unique way.

↳ rating- PG

↳ pairing- min yoongi x reader

↳ word count-

↳ genre- fluff, oh my god the fluff

↳ warnings- mentions of sex, some swearing, min yoongi is D A D D Y

↳ a/n- happy birthday to @carly-bean-blog​ ! my sweet angel who has been with me through nearly my entire blog life.  you’re so special to me!  myself, @chimoona​ and @sombreboy​ wanted to do something special for you.  together, we created your future ;).  we hope you enjoy your day, sweet peony!

"You forgot your lunch.”

The voice of your husband, Yoongi, chuckles lightly through the phone in an amused tone. 

“Shit,” you sigh, walking into work with arms packed full. Keys, your jacket, nametag, and an energy drink fumble in your grasp. 

“Good thing you’re married to the nicest man in the world,” he goads. You roll your eyes, but he’s right. Min Yoongi is simply the sweetest, most kind man you’ve ever met. It’s why you married him.

“Hmm,” you tease as you shove your items into your locker, “Did I marry Namjoon?”

Yoongi grunts through the phone and it forces you to laugh.  

“Not funny,” he sighs. You know he’s holding back laughter, maintaining his stoicism.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you smile. “My break is in about four hours.”

“I’ll bring it then. We can eat together.”

Your heart warms at the idea of sharing your simple sandwich and chip combo with the quiet man—the one who so easily captured your heart. You love that he’s willing to spend time during his day to sit at your boring job and eat lunch with you, all to make you happy.

“I’ll see you then.” The smile that's on your face nearly makes up for the fact that you have to suffer through a grueling eight-hour shift. Yoongi makes all the bad things in your life good. He takes those bad days and holds them tight in his arms until the bad melts away and you’re simply left with nothing but bliss.  

“I love you.” He says it so easily, so much easier than when you first met him. Yoongi’s icy demeanor quickly melted after he spent time with you. Your infectious laughter, kind heart, and easy-going attitude had the man falling fast.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

As you press ‘end’ on the phone, one hand drops to your stomach. You rub it idly. Consciously, you know it’s early and that you’re showing no signs of growing a life inside of you, but you can’t help but smile at the tiny fluttering in your belly.

---

Work goes by slower than you’d like. You’re excited at the idea of seeing Yoongi, but four hours suddenly seems too far away.  

It’s as you’re arranging the new shipment of artisan, 100% organic cotton diapers that you’re forced to pause.

On the box of the far-too-expensive diapers, is the cutest baby model you’ve ever seen in your life.

You stare dumbly at the box for what feels like hours, unblinking as you take in the baby’s chubby cheeks and silly grin.

Maybe it’s the new pregnancy hormones coursing through your veins, or maybe this baby is sincerely so cute it’s making you cry—either way, tears slip down your face and a dumb, deliriously happy grin spreads across your face.

You’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby with Yoongi. Maybe your baby won’t look like the tiny one on the display box, but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to have a child with the man of your dreams and you suddenly want the next eight months to go by faster.   

The only problem that remains is, well, you haven’t told your husband.

It’s not like you two meant to get pregnant. You weren’t opposed to the idea but having sex was never with an end-goal of conception in mind. Yoongi wanted kids and assured you of that before you agreed to marry him. You both knew they would come at a time that felt right, when the universe and stars aligned.

And it appeared that they had. You noticed the symptoms a few weeks ago. Missed period, a little nauseated in the mornings, increased hormones. So, during a lunch break at work, you bought a pregnancy test and scurried to the staff bathrooms, only to come out with a positive reading and a grin on your face.

It wasn’t that you were scared to tell your husband. Frankly, you were far from it. You wanted to make sure the moment was just right. The pressure of telling your husband he was about to become a father was overwhelming. You couldn’t just tell him casually, as if discussing the weather. No, you wanted something more. And you agonized for weeks about how to make it happen.

But now, standing in front of the diaper section with tears pouring from your eyes, you throw any need of extravagant celebrations aside. Seize the day—it’ll happen at lunch and there’s no use backing out now. 

The next fews hours creep by painfully. You take note of every ticking minute as it passes, practically hopping on your heels with excitement, waiting until you can pop the news. You finish stocking the nursery aisles with a happy heart and a smile on your face. You’re so engrossed in stocking shelves and running through the dialogue in your mind that you slowly lose track of time.

Hours pass and—

“_____,” Yoongi’s low voice bounces off the tall aisles behind you.

You turn on your heel and come face-to-face with the most familiar, welcoming pair of deep brown eyes. 

“Baby,” you laugh, amused at how domestic he looks with both hands full of sack lunches like a father at a soccer game half-time. 

He pulls off the look well. It reminds you why you fell in love with him in the first place. So kind and doting on those he loves most. Gosh, he’s going to make a great father. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says with an eye-crinkling grin. “You love this department.”

“Love? I’m assigned to this department.” You close the distance with a small peck and tug your lunch from his hand. “But I guess you can say I have a fondness for it.”

He takes a step back and reclines in a nursing glider, motioning for you to join him in a neighboring seat. 

“It’s the graveyard shift—do you think anyone will mind if we eat here?”

You look around the completely vacant store like a covert agent, then answer in a hushed tone. “For the time being, it looks like we’re off their radar. The coast is clear.”

“You’re an idiot,” he laughs, “I love you.”

“Love you too, rule breaker.”

It felt good to be bad in the most wholesome way in the most wholesome department of the entire store. Well, aside from the home decor section. Those fragrant eucalyptus candles and plush throw pillows in the shape of wild animals melts your heart to no end. 

The two of you empty your bags into your laps and make small talk about your days. While you were toiling over the display case for Jessica Alba’s latest line of gluten-free, non GMO shampoo for thin baby hair, Yoongi watered the plants and did the dishes. 

Real riveting stuff. 

No, really, there is nothing sexier than a man who takes care of the home. It only makes you want to pop the news sooner, but the sandwich clutched in your hands makes for a less glamorous prop in your otherwise fairytale picture-perfect moment.

“Oh! I also did the laundry and folded it the way you like.”

“Bunched up and tossed in the drawer?”

He winks and points his finger at you. “That’s my girl—nothing gets past her.”

“Nothing does, nothing does…” You stare off blankly at the display behind Yoongi and notice a package of diapers is slightly askew. You begin to make a mental note to fix it later, but are abruptly snapped from your thoughts at Yoongi’s words—

“Nothing gets past me either, ______.” He sighs and reclines, belly full of sandwich. He closes his eyes and rests his head against clasped hands. “I know you’ve been keeping a secret from me, I can sense it like a bloodhound.” 

With that, you pop the rest of the sandwich into your mouth and chew quickly. It seems the moment to savor has quickly evaporated and it was time to come clean.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but—”

“—You got me that Pioneer DJ System for my birthday. I knew it! When I saw a purchase on our credit card for $500, I knew I caught you red-handed,” He looks at you for confirmation and assumes he’s right based on the reddish hue of your cheeks. 

“You’re the idiot,” you snicker, nervously biting your lip between your teeth. “That wasn’t a DJ System, that was a crib.”

He holds up his finger in an AH-HA moment of victory, but pauses mid-celebration and looks at you with a crooked smile. “C-crib?”

“I’m pregnant, Yoongi.” 

You can’t keep the butterflies from fluttering, seeing his face slowly shift from slightly amused to tear-dabbed and nearly shaking. 

“You’re...you mean...we’re…” He stands from his seat and takes a knee beside you on your rocker and places his hand gently on your stomach. 

“Yes,” you confirm through a strained voice, edging back tears of your own. “We’re having a baby.”

“This is, I mean,” He stammers and verbally struggles to come up with the right words to say that properly shows the multitude of emotions coursing through his body.

“Are you happy?” You ask despite the answer being written plainly on his face. 

Of course he’s happy. It’s the happiest moment of his life and it’s all happening under the watchful gaze of a Peppa Pig cardboard cutout. 

“Beyond,” he confirms, stroking your belly gently as if you were made of glass. “And excited, and scared.” 

“Me too.”

“But mostly happy.” He strokes his hand through your hair and curls the loose strands behind your ear to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “God, I can’t wait to spend forever with you two.”

“Already? You haven’t even met the kid. What if he/she is a brat?”

“Too late, I love them already.”

You lean forward and kiss your husband, capturing his plush lips with your own. It’s warm and soft and reminds you of home. 

“I love you,” you whisper, lips still touching his. 

“I love you too,” he smiles, “Forever.”

[letterboxd]

Siren Song.

Undine writer-director Christian Petzold talks to Reyzando Nawara about modern-day mermaids, Tinder culture and finding the magic in life.

“Love stories always change. A kiss in Berlin 1933, for example, is not gonna be the same kiss in Berlin today, right?” —Christian Petzold

“If you leave me, then I’ll have to kill you.” Undine’s threat to her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend Johannes, after he has told her that he has met someone else, seems at first like an over-the-top reaction to the breakup. But it is a curse that Undine must fulfill, for she will become human only when she falls in love with a man who is doomed to die if he is unfaithful to her.

From Splash to Ponyo to The Lure to Song of the Sea, mythical water spirits, usually female, sometimes horse, have powered many film plots. The sixteenth-century European myth of Undine, in particular, lies behind many screen adaptations of Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, though the Danish writer was not the first to popularize the fairytale in his century. Decades earlier, around 1811, Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué of Germany had produced his romantic novella, Undine.

And it is to Germany—specifically modern-day Berlin—that writer-director (and fellow German) Christian Petzold transports Undine in his contemporary magical-realist take on the myth. There, she does not take the form of a mermaid or siren, but a beautiful young woman (played by Paula Beer), who works as a historian at a museum, where she guides tours of Berlin’s architecture and its reconstruction. The breathtaking cinematography, by regular Petzold collaborator Hans Fromm, crystallizes both the romance and the beauty of Berlin, while Petzold’s leads root every scene in reality, even as aquariums explode and giant catfish drift past.

Paula Beer and Franz Rogowski fire up the streets of Berlin in ‘Undine’.

Water may be the dominant element in Undine, but Beer and her co-star Franz Rogowski bring fire to their scenes together. Where Beer brings charisma and intensity to the titular role, Rogowski, as Undine’s new love interest, an industrial diver named Christoph, offers charm and sweetness.

In the frenzy of Parasite’s world domination, it is easy to forget that Petzold’s previous feature, Transit, appeared in two of our 2019 Year in Review lists—the 50 highest-rated films and the highest-rated international films—and was one of the top romance films of the 2010s. His riveting Phoenix is still his highest-rated film on the platform—one of many to center a complex female character in search of love at a time of personal and/or political crisis. In Undine, Petzold does it again, a welcome departure from other adaptations, including the Colin Farrell-starring Irish romantic drama Ondine (2009), that have mostly told the myth from the perspective of its male characters. Petzold also revises the fairytale, by giving Undine a chance to try to emancipate herself from her curse.

We recently had the pleasure of speaking with Petzold about his fascination with water, the magic of Berlin history, modern dating and of course, his ongoing collaboration with Beer and Rogowski.

Spoiler warning: this conversation contains plot details regarding the ending of Petzold’s film ‘Transit’ (2018).

Your movie is inspired by the myth of Undine, but you reinvent it by giving it some modern twists. How did the main narrative for the film come about? Christian Petzold: I think the idea of the story first came to me around twenty years ago when I had a project in Germany. It was together with Claire Denis and also Kathryn Bigelow, and everybody had to make a ten-minute short film for a project based on the museum near the Rhine River. I had written a little dialogue—oh, by the way, Steve McQueen was also part of the project—and it was the scene that we can see in the movie in the first few minutes where Undine’s boyfriend, Johannes, said that he doesn’t love her anymore and that he wants to leave her and she said to him, “If you leave me, then I’ll have to kill you.” Then she goes back to work, and later when she comes back to try to find him again, he isn’t there—so she knows that she has to kill him now.

Then when I made Transit with Paula Beer and Franz Rogowski, I told them after a very lucky and happy time of shooting, that I had written a short story and wanted to make a 90-minute feature movie out of it together with them. I wanted to keep working and making movies with them because we’ve had an amazing experience together in Transit. This was basically the start of how the movie and my collaboration with these two actors came about.

Paula and Franz are actors who didn’t come from the basic German acting school; their backgrounds are dance and theater. But they both have so much curiosity about cinema—when I met Paula for the first time, for example, she told me that she had bought 50 movies by Alfred Hitchcock and wanted to see all of them, and to me, this is the best kind of school to learn about cinema.

So to some extent, Undine is a spiritual sequel to Transit? Yes, you’re right. It has so many things to do with Transit. Marie, Paula’s character in Transit, finds her own death in the sea—she’s drowned. And Franz’s character, he’s waiting at the land, hoping that she may come back from the land of the dead. So I said to them, “Okay, the next movie is gonna be about a woman coming out of the sea and going to the land to search for love and also about this young man who is a diver, who is going underwater, to find love as well.” So to some degree, it’s a sequel, you’re right.

Beer and Ragowski in ‘Transit’ (2018).

You mentioned earlier that you had a great experience working with Paula and Franz in Transit. Can you tell us what it was about these two actors that you thought would capture the story you wanted to tell in Undine? Paula is a very young actor—she was 23 when we started Transit, and she was around 24 when we made Undine—but when you’re filming her, she has this ability to make her characters much more mature beyond her real age. In one second, she’s 45 years old, with a whole experience of someone who’s had a hard life and has gone through so many bad things, then one second later, she’s thirteen and innocent. And to have that kind of ability—to go from one point to another—is just really fascinating to me. I’ve never seen other actors do this before in my life.

Franz was a dancer, and if I remember correctly, I think he was also in a clown school for a circus, so he can do everything with his body. It’s unbelievable what he can do. He has this amazing physicality that I admire and haven’t seen before in other German actors. When they’re together sharing a scene, they dance with each other. And this is the thing that I like so much about them and the thing I need in Undine, because I need actors who can float from one scene to another as if they’re dancing underwater.

In literature and pop culture, the myth of Undine has been mostly told from the male perspective. You reframe the narrative, to give Undine the opportunity to maybe emancipate herself from both the male figure in her life and the curse. Tell me more about that choice. Two or three years ago, I had a retrospective in New York, and I had the chance to see some of my previous movies again—[laughing] I’ve actually never done it before, revisiting my own movies. And at that time, I realized that I’ve always tried to rewrite the stories centering on women, which were made by men in the ’40s, ’50s, ’60s and ’70s, from another perspective: the perspective of the women.

When I was in Venice for the first time, Claude Chabrol [was] in the same hotel as me, and he had a Q&A. I wanted to say hi and tell him how great he was but I couldn’t do it because I was very young and too shy for those things. I heard what he said when asked why in his movies, the women are always the main characters. His answer was, “Men are living, women are surviving. And cinema is about surviving.” It was such a fantastic answer.

All the movies I [have] made, including Undine, are about surviving. Undine wanted to survive her curse—she tries to, every time, since centuries ago. In so many iterations of the myth, Undine always has to go back into the lake and to the life the curse has set for her. I really wanted to zoom in on that, to liberate the character of Undine from the myth and the curse.

In the movie, Undine works as an historian at a museum, and in her tours, she talks about Berlin’s architecture and its reconstruction throughout the years. How is this related to the romantic aspect of the movie? Everybody says you can take a love story and put it in the sixteenth century or the nineteenth century, and it’s always gonna be the same kind of love story. But I think that’s not entirely right. Love stories always change. A kiss in Berlin 1933, for example, is not gonna be the same kiss in Berlin today, right? Therefore I want to take the historical aspect of Berlin architecture and its reconstruction to tell the story of two young people in Berlin nowadays, to see the evolution of both this love story and the myth of Undine itself.

What’s the significance of all the buildings Undine mentions in the movie? The buildings serve a very important role in the movie because Berlin is between two rivers on an island, and the city is built on dried-out swamps, so the element that Undine is coming from, which is the water, is destroyed in Berlin. It doesn’t exist anymore. And therefore Undine doesn’t have any habitats, so she has no choice but to adapt and to live on the land.

In some way, I always think that the modernization in Berlin erases history, and when there’s no history, there’s no magic, which means magical creatures like Undine won’t exist. That was the main idea of the architectural elements in the movie.

Is that also the reason why there are two locations in the movie: Berlin, and the small town where Franz’s character, Christoph, works and lives, which is still full of swamps? To show that in this small town, magic still exists? That’s a good question. The romance and the myth of Undine is a part of German and European history. It’s a unique enchantment. But in Berlin, where modernization and civilization keep growing and changing, there’s no enchantment anymore. So I want to show how in this small town where everything is still kept as closely natural as possible, the enchantment and the charm of Germany are still there.

There’s a beautiful and romantic poem by Joseph Eichendorff that says, “You must find the right world, so everything can sync again.” To me, that line encourages us to find the magic of the world back. We live in this world surrounded by retro buildings and retro behavior and retro music, but it’s all actually just an illusion of magic. The real magic, that’s something that we have to find—either by movies or camera positions or poems or even by preserving the naturality of a city. And the Undine myth actually has a lot to do with this.

Another thing that fascinates me about the movie is how the dynamic between Undine and Johannes, in some way, reflects the state of modern dating. Is this something that you also wanted to capture when you wrote the script? [Laughing] Funny story, when Paula read the script for the first time, she told me that she liked it so much because the story reminded her of Tinder and modern dating. And on some level, it’s true; part of Undine is about modern dating. I always think that in the era of dating apps, everything gets much simpler—you meet someone, you have sex (or perhaps not), and if you feel like this someone is not handsome or beautiful enough for you, you can keep scrolling until you find someone new. So, dating right now is like going to the supermarket.

Johannes leaving Undine to be with another woman, who for him is better-looking than Undine, reflects the culture of Tinder. And the line I mentioned earlier, “If you leave me, then I’ll have to kill you,” is the opposite of that kind of dating life. And Paula, who hates Tinder, loves that line a lot. Some of the actors are on Tinder, I’m sure, and that’s understandable. Actors are sometimes very lonely because for six to eight weeks, they are deep inside of a character, and when they’re on break, they’re in some sort of “black hole of loneliness”.

Writer-director Christian Petzold.

Undine being a water nymph, of course, makes the water element very important in this movie. But water has actually been heavily featured in some of your previous features as well, like in Yella, Barbara and Transit. Can you tell us why you find water fascinating? I’ve seen a documentary by Agnès Varda, and in [it] she said, “The place where one element is touching one another is the place where cinema builds its stories.” That’s why she loved the beach, because on the beach, there’s water and there’s the earth and there’s also wind, and they’re touching each other. So to her, the beach is the perfect place where you can tell a story.

For me, however, the reason I like featuring water or the other elements in most of my movies is because it has something to do with seeing my characters coming from one element then going to the other elements; to see them act and react in a new and sometimes uncomfortable place. Also, when you see pictures or paintings, so many of them are about people looking deep into the sea. I always feel like that kind of painting is actually about a desire. And most of my movies, at [their] core, are about desire. That’s why water is so important to me. Deep under the water, there’s the place of desire.

What’s the first movie that made you want to become a filmmaker? The first movie I loved very much as a kid was The Jungle Book, but the first movie that made me want to become a filmmaker was by Alfred Hitchcock, The 39 Steps. I was fourteen or fifteen years old when I saw the movie for the first time, and I loved it from the first moment. The movie is about a man and a woman who are bound by handcuffs, and they don’t like each other, but because they’re on the run, they have to communicate and come to an understanding. And the love story starts because of that communication, not because of looks, and I love the movie so much for that reason.

If you could program a double feature with Undine, what movie would you pick? Good question. I would say The Night of the Hunter. Also maybe Creature from the Black Lagoon or 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea or The Son’s Room by Nanni Moretti. These are the movies that I would recommend for a double feature with Undine.

Related content

More ‘Little Mermaid’ adaptations: a list by Katherine

Paula Beer strolling around towns cinematic universe

Diogo’s mega-list of Mermaids in Film

Horror’s History with Scary Mermaids: a Bloody Disgusting list

Follow Reyzando on Letterboxd

‘Undine’ is in theaters and available on VOD in the US now.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

8, 13, 80, 82, for the otp asks? 👀

OTP! OTP! >:3 Time for some more rambling~! You know, I think my love for these two dorks grows more and more as I create and talk about their dynamic. It just. HNNNNNGH. *makes grabby hands at dumb dumb wolf and dumb dumb dragon*

Anyways, my fangirling aside, let's get to answering! >:D Thank you so much for the ask, dear friend! X3

8. Who tends to worry the most?

I was going to answer this with 'both equally', but the more I think, the more I realize that Solas is the one who worries the most. XD

I mean, come on. We all know Solas is a natural worry wart. It's in the man's blood, and Fane has a tendency to make his dear wolf's blood pressure rise to fatal heights with the shit he does. PFFT!

Fane is a literal battering ram when it comes to battles (this is based on how I've specced him in-game), and he just charges in without caring if he'll get sliced, diced, or scorched. Fane's illness with magic makes it incredibly difficult for Solas to erect barriers on him, so he has to devise other ways to keep Fane in one piece (nitpicking about his armor, constantly asking, 'Are you certain you are ready?', and begging, 'Please control yourself this time, ma'isenatha.') All of that worry comes from the fact that Solas has seen Fane die, has had to guide him to it, even. Fane doesn't mean to brush off that concern and worry, but when he's embroiled in battle he...loses his senses a bit. Dragons aren't meant to fight, and fighting is what Fane does best in his new life, so he has a hard time balancing bloodlust with merciful restraint.

If Fane gets injured (which he does, but only grazes and the occasional gash), Solas won't let anyone else attend to him, fear gripping his mind, memories of blood soaked crystal and decaying scales cracking his mask and rendering him tortured. When Fane sees that, instead of just seeing the nagging, he'll go docile, go remorseful and will say, 'I'm sorry, my sky. I never meant to-- I only--hn.' Once they talk and wind down though, things get right back on track, but Solas is constantly worrying over his dragon--constantly.

Solas worries about everything with Fane--his scars, his nightmares, his battle with his identity--but battle is where he's the least reserved in it. He doesn't want Fane to have to fight, but he knows they both don't have a choice in the matter.

13. Who steals the blankets?

Solas. SOLAS.

Well, it's more that Fane gives the blankets to Solas. XD Due to the fact that Fane's affinity as a dragon was ice, he has a very low tolerance to heat. So, furs and even thin silken sheets can be a bit too much for our resident dragon to handle. Hell, Fane walks around the outer perimeter of Skyhold (trails along the mountains and whatnot) in nothing but a fur-lined cloak, his typical trousers, and his black tunic. My boy gives no fucks about the cold.

Fane and Solas' quarters in Skyhold stay a nice in-between temperature, catering to both their needs comfortably. Magic is a lovely thing, and there are certain minor spells that Fane can bear without throwing up all over the place.

...Fane does whine when the fire is a bit too stoked though. That's when the balcony windows get torn open by a deadpan Solas, who then regrets his decision like so many other things. *cackles* Fane just shrugs and gives his wolf that shit-eating smirk of his that says, 'That all you've got, Dread Wolf? Tsk. Shame.'

80. What do they love about each other the most?

Solas is enthralled by Fane's sheer tenacity. Even before the two of them realized who the other was, Solas found Fane's attitude admirable. He had a feeling that Fane was troubled, could see it during specific intervals, but he also saw the will to endure in emerald and gold. Despite the snaps, the snarls, and the moments of disassociation, Solas could see just how strong of spirit Fane was--making decisions without a single regret (on the outside, of course), standing firm to what he believed in, never bowing to those who wished to break him in half with their hopes and expectations, witnessing those moments of vulnerability when Fane's illness with magic became too much, but the other powering through it despite the pain, despite the hardship, and between it all, how much he cared about every. single. person he came across. The downtrodden and forgotten. The traumatized and bereft.

Solas adores Fane's tenacity, and most importantly, his devotion. The latter comes later when they form a romantic relationship, but Solas has always seen both traits in his dragon. And he'll do anything to make sure those shining spirits never becomes warped again.

Now, it may seem predictable, but Fane thrives off of Solas' brain. X'D Fane is a creature of observation, he picks and delves to determine why things work the way they do, or technically speaking, why people act the way that they do. As such, he's always stunned or enraptured when Solas becomes especially passionate about a topic (spirits, the Fade, the Elvhen, his beliefs, his opinions, etc.) Solas' questioning and curious nature is what made Fane open up as a dragon, had him seeing that there was someone not so black and white. So, even if it's sometimes at his expense, Fane lets Solas talk and talk and talk and talk until the candles are burnt down and the moon's high in the sky, never once letting his mind wander and spiral because he'd be a fool to ignore such a beautiful sight as his sky.

82. What is an inside joke they have?

Okay, okay! I may have mentioned this before, but Fane and Solas, on occasion, like to point out the sheer irony of Fane being the 'Herald of Andraste'.

What I mean by that is; he's a dragon. History tiiiime! >:D

Old Gods-depicted as dragons by the Tevinter Imperium.

Archdemons, those that command the Blights, the very thing the Chantry warns against aside from mages--dragons

Fane is a dragon. Fane is also the Herald of Andraste. The Tevinter Imperium used to worship the Old Gods which the Chantry says are false gods and the only true one is the Maker.

So, where does that leave us? Fane is a dragon being worshiped by most of Thedas as a literal figure of divinity. He's the very thing the Chantry claims is 'wicked' and 'heretical'. Furthermore, Fane does have the capacity to harbor a portion of an Old God's soul. *holds out hands* EH? EHHHH?!

"They worship me as a god, more or less, right?"

"If one where to delve deeply into the matter, then perhaps. I believe most of the beleagured and drifting see you as a symbol of hope, ma'isenatha."

"...They literally call me the prophet of their prophetess. They think I'm divinely touched."

"Technically, you are correct. But--oh."

"Yeah. Fucking hilarious. Looks like the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Let's hope the scum in Tevinter don't catch wind. It would be humiliating for the Chantry to know the people flock to a dragon."

"...You are ridiculous."

"But you're laughing, so I know you see the irony, my sky." *chuckles* "Ohh, my day just got ten times better with that realization. Imagine Cassandra's face! Hah!"

"You are far too riveted by this, my dragon. ...Though I admit, it is rather amusing."

"See?" *snickers* "Herald of Andraste. Pfft. I'm a fucking dragon."

Dialogue drabble that I may flesh out and form into a snippet of pure ridiculousness! But that's the joke between Solas and Fane, and when Cassandra's catches Fane nearly exploding with the force of holding his snorts back...well, let's just say she's very confused. *cackles*

[reachexceedinggrasp]

So the majority of the shows I’ve seen lately can be charitably described as ‘light entertainment’, including the ones with dark elements or more weighty, ponderous plots. They might be entertaining or interesting, they just... don’t stand up to scrutiny. Turn your brain off because this isn’t that carefully or skilfully made and you’ll only be annoyed if you start thinking about it as a whole. Including the last couple 'tragic’ historical dramas I’ve watched, which were not effective tragedy for that very reason. If you’re going to kill off the main cast, you have to earn it, and overwhelmingly writers don’t. Anyway, I’ve been getting despondent about whether stories which actually hang together and form a coherent narrative unit with consistent themes are the exception rather than the rule.

(And I feel like that should be a pretty low standard to meet, it’s sort of Step 1 of ‘being a story’: be about something! Communicate something, no matter how basic it is. Dead simple stories with rock basic messages can be revelatory! Just do it well!)

I’ve seen very little genuinely focussed or meaningful storytelling in my ventures for what feels like a long time. Basically, I can kind of count on one hand the number of films or dramas or whathaveyou I’ve seen from the last few years where it felt like the filmmakers were in complete control of their story and everything in it was purposeful and intentional. Most things have felt slapdash or shallow or fleeting. Story elements and character choices come out of nowhere just to derail already concluded arcs and fill screen time with empty repetitious drama, not to serve a meaningful narrative purpose. I would be watching with zero confidence anything in particular was going anywhere or that the writers knew where that should be. It’s just throwing shit at the wall, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type writing all the time and it fucking shows.

But then I watched Money Flower.

Money Flower is different. Money Flower is towering head and shoulders above every modern drama I’ve ever seen. Titanically good writing which rises above its genre and makes conventions seem radically new and fresh not by reinventing them or deconstructing them, but by playing them straight, taking them seriously, and committing 1000%. This is all your familiar rich family tropes but with masterpiece execution, infused with consequence and meaning because they’re all driven by the psychology of complex three-dimensional characters. So many moving pieces and none of them are random or unmotivated. Just... GOOD WRITING. And I want to make the point that it is this wherein art lives. The difference between a rank Lifetime movie and Romeo and Juliet is not novelty or tropes or plot twists- it’s execution.

This show is such a perfect example that it is not ‘mere events’ (aka plot) or novelty or shock value or cool ideas which separates something brilliant and timeless from forgettable schlock; it is solely and entirely execution. It’s writing itself, if you know what I mean. You can describe many of Shakespeare’s tragedies and history plays as soap opera plots. What makes Macbeth a deathless masterwork and Death Wish Hollywood wank isn’t a fundamental difference in subject or genre. It’s Shakespeare’s characterisation and purposeful storytelling. It’s the poetry of the dialogue. It’s the craft of writing. Most of Shakespeare’s plots are based on existing stories or on historical events and that has never mattered because novelty is not an inherent good or of any inherent artistic value.

Like, this is the problem with storytelling right now blah blah GOT, shitty endings everywhere etc. because power over the audience (can’t let anyone guess the plot, looking ‘clever’ with meaningless callbacks) and novelty are valued over narrative structure or things making sense or emotional verisimilitude. We have so many writers thinking being ‘shocking’ is all it takes to be a genius. It’s easy to be shocking if your story makes no goddamn sense because things that don’t make sense are literally unpredictable. Not in a good way, though. A great twist or sudden swerve needs to be unexpected but inevitable in hindsight or it does not work. I should be able to rewatch your thing and think ‘oh, of course! you can see it was [x] all along!’

We have so many popular writers now who are so shallow they don’t think anything needs to make sense on a character or emotional level. They don’t think their story has to be about anything. Substance is irrelevant as long as the surface is flashy enough. That has no staying power, you can only watch it once and you will forget about it quickly.

However, if you have ever wanted to experience the constant heightened stakes and High Drama of a soap opera without being annoyed at how ridiculous it all is and while actually giving a shit about the characters because they feel like real human beings, if you’ve wanted to feel repercussions when characters make choices, and get the emotional payoff that is the entire point of drama- now you can. Watch Money Flower. And let me tell you, it is fucking riveting. This show is mostly made up of people sitting in rooms talking and yet it is heart-pounding excitement nearly every episode. It is profoundly traditional and by the book while being totally fresh. It’s the most engrossing and satisfying artistic experience I’ve had in a long time.

Like, THE TENSION, THE DRAMA, THE REVEALS!!! You can, in fact, spend most of 24+ hours on the edge of your seat about family problems and business mergers. It seems unlikely, but that is the power of this series, it creates insanely high stakes and mesmerising suspense out of the most commonplace ingredients. Familiar plot elements become brand new and surprising under the deftness and tightness of this narrative. The plot itself is certainly 100% melodrama but it never feels like a soap opera and is never ever soapy in in a pejorative sense because it handles its classic tropes with such maturity and nuance that it's like you've never seen them before. The writing is incredible.

It is on an entirely different level than the vast majority of dramas, with a total self-assurance that keeps the pacing relentless yet unhurried- taking its time to let the impact of events be felt, the narrative always knowing exactly where it’s going and how to get there. The characters are all multi-faceted and unpredictable without ever being incoherent, their motives and goals always being gradually uncovered in more detail that only makes the storytelling and characterisation even tighter, even richer. The twists and cliffhangers are always mind-blowing but always earned, never cheap or nonsensical, and I can't remember ever thinking that about another show. (There’s literally one exception towards the very end where something a bit random happens for reasons of pure symbolism- it’s a misstep imo but it’s minor in the scheme of things)

Every time I started to doubt the writing, started to think ‘oh no, they’re going off the rails’, they showed me I was wrong and they were in total control. The only 'problem' with the show is that the drama is also profoundly painful to watch unfold, particularly in the beginning, because it's a story where everyone makes terrible life choices and moral corruption is everywhere. It's hypnotic though, like a car crash. If you can handle something dark, insidious, cerebral, and character-driven there is nothing I've seen in the same vein that can approach its brilliance. It’s like The Magnificent Ambersons as a slick modern revenge drama. There is also (PRECIOUSLY!!) a core of stunning romanticism around which all the horrors revolve and that saves it from becoming hideous or cynical. There is a chance for redemption and a new beginning after all, in spite of all appearances.

The ending has apparently been controversial, and it is definitely not quite as climatic as you would have expected given how powerfully climatic almost every regular episode is, but it's a good ending. There isn't full closure, they don't provide final resolution in a bow, but to me it's an ending about hope. It suggests optimism for our characters and I was satisfied with that. It's extremely rare for a 'revenge story’ to allow this kind of room for healing and it can do that because, imo, we discover in the end that it wasn't ultimately vengeance in Pil Joo’s heart. He has not become a tragic hero who will be consumed by the cannibalistic darkness of revenge, his quest was for justice. He teeters on the edge of the abyss but he avoided falling in; he didn't sell his soul, at least not irrevocably.

He is nonetheless a very tragic figure and an anti-hero, but despite having dedicated his life to bringing down the Jang cabal, it’s not that he’ll stop at nothing. He will make any personal sacrifice no matter how desolate, he lives as a mere husk of a man, and he facilitates enormous emotional harm to others in service of his goals, but he has ethical hard lines he never considers crossing. His sense of decency and compassion is never extinguished; he does care about the collateral damage he is causing even when making justifications for it. It’s important to him to give people as much agency as possible in their choices, to mitigate the damage done by his schemes as much as he can. To try to prevent harm coming to undeserving bystanders. Not that this makes it okay that he uses people, which he does, but the point is he never completely surrenders his moral compass to avarice. He’s never okay with burning down the world or ruining innocent lives just to get to his target.

Pil Joo is less a vigilante and more an avenging angel, he wants justice more than retribution. He wants fairness and a better, safer world where what has happened to his family won’t happen again. The reason this story never becomes Sweeney Todd (aka: a full on tragedy where we see the inevitable outcome of lust for revenge) and the reason he can survive twenty years spent pursuing someone’s downfall is exactly that principle. Searching for retribution would have destroyed him, he would have become the very thing he hated, but instead he goes as far as necessary to publicly expose the Jangs for what they are and then willingly submits to penance for his complicity in their crimes and tries to atone with the people he hurt along the way. Purged, he’s symbolically reborn and takes back his real name to maybe finally have a chance at the life he should have had. He moves on, content, a positive force. He’s capable of healing from the ordeal because he realises he doesn’t need retaliation, just seeing them stopped and facing consequences for their actions is enough.

The love story is a superbly poignant part of this. Their love is the ‘victim’ of his revenge and it will forever be impacted by it, but it’s not something that can be killed, so there’s still hope. Mo Hyeon’s bookending rescues of Pil Joo from death mean first that he has a purpose he must fulfil and then the second time that he has freedom to finally live as himself, for himself. There’s a future. And maybe they can be together there. I’m emo about it.

Anyway, if there was the slightest doubt about me becoming a long-term Jang Hyuk fangirl, it’s been put to rest. This performance is easily one of the best I’ve ever seen, period. No contest it’s the best I’ve seen in a tv drama. It’s also the most subtle and masterful turn he's delivered in his whole career. He's so restrained, but he is giving absolutely everything; he has total control over every microexpression, every gesture, every molecule in his body. There is so much simmering under his surface, so much going on in his eyes; the layers and depths are endless. The intensity and sharp intellectual focus he brings to the character is breathtaking. Everyone else is doing amazing work too, but he is almost constantly on screen and has this spectacular command of such a sprawling story, such a complex character, and he makes it look effortless. All artifice has melted away. The fact that being so tightly contained is in stark contrast to the bombastic element in many of his other roles renders its delicate precision even more startlingly impressive. I thought he was a great actor before, but I didn’t fully appreciate what he was capable of until Pil Joo.

[horrible-monstrosity]

mothermom 3 is a baaad animine

part 1: fuck these characters I thought the bit about not being able to go through a certain way because there's ants (that the player can't see) you wouldn't want to trample was going to introduce a theme of kindness and gentleness, but the game sure... tramples that early on by having your oh-so-kindhearted-and-mournable mother trample the fuck out of a sentient talking mole cricket to death right the fuck afterwards. Like, you were just talking to and playfighting with that mole mere seconds ago, and now it's thoughtlessly and meaninglessly dead, and it's supposed to be funny. And then you're supposed to forget all about it when mom dead because care and have emotions for this characters you've barely known for like one minute worth of interactions dragged out over like an hour. ok Then after bumbling along being a hollow little bag of nothing for like ten hours Lucas suddenly proves himself a detestable little cunt by just straight up stealing something he's told was a precious item, a yo-yo belonging to Porky's friend. Because, like... fuck Porky, I guess, in this geame franchise about love and heart and healing there's just this one fat kid we're all supposed to just disregard and piss and shit on and detest by default for no fucking reason just because the game narrative said so. Porky's existence was pretty weird already in Earthbound- he's apparently being abused by his fat parents, and aside from being a bit snotty and show-offy, he does at least make sure his little brother gets home safely at the beginning. He just seems like someone who needs a friend, which... actually makes Ness look like an asshole in retrospect for not just giving him some kind of help. It was kind of fine in that game because he was just a minor character, but making him some supervillain in the next game just because he was some dumpy abused kid is just... what the fuck. But anyway, whenever the plot expects us to care about Loocus and his dumb dead mom I just think about things like the yo-yo and the mole cricket and I lose all empathy. These people are assholes. You're trying to make sympathetic victims out of assholes and an asshole out of a sympathetic victim. Get your meaningless fucking sunflowers the fuck off my screen you bitch fuck

And then on the other hand there's Duster. The character who's absolutely the most deserving of empathy out of all these cunts and we're supposed to see him reembracing his shitty old life as something he should be really happy about. Like for one thing, the entire plot where he reenters the cast is stupid and makes no sense. When we hear he's at the club playing with the band, I could think of a lot of reasons for it- he could be laying low to protect the egg (seeing as how Tamzilly got pozzed and going back there would accomplish nothing), he could have just decided to fuck off and do something he actually enjoyed rather than go back to his shitty asshole dad, he could have somehow ended up far far away from the town and joined the band to make his way back home travelling with them/earn a living so he could get back. But no, before we even get to see him and see how he's acting Strong Female McDerpa Character tells us that he most definitely has amnesia. Because, like, why would he ever give up on his jackass dad and that braindead town otherwise? And then we meet him and it's exactly what we were unceremonously told it was, how rivetting. Then for some reason he decides that if he's really who you say he is he needs to... give up his life as a band member entirely to get the egg back. Can't just come with you to get the egg or until the adventure's over, nooo he needs to abandon his new life forever and ever and just go get fucked and fuck himself. fuck. let my man play guitar and also that "thiefs but good somehow because derp" shit is retarded and I hate it

Finally there's Girl Character who I refuse to even remember the name of because she's... nothing. Even her being kinda cunty about how she's sTrOnG and nOt lIkE ThoSe OthEr gIrlS is just bland. The other girls from the past two games were cute and girly and still credit to team with their strong psychic powers, why the fuck is she like this?

part 2: i've stopped giving a fuck about making this into parts fuck you What the fuck is the story of this game? You spend hours dicking around with a fucking timeskip and a ghost mansion or some shit and the game randomly namedrops the needles at some point, and then... the six or seventh chapter is just titled GUYS THE NEEDLES ARE ACTUALLY REALLY IMPORTANT YOU GUYS. Six or seven fucking chapters in, and we've barely gotten to anything resembling a coherent plot. What the fuck have we been doing up until this point again? Why the fuck do we even need the dragon needles plot anyway? Just have the main cast move from one pigmeng plot to another with things like the thunder tower, slowly working their way up the chain of command until they reach the final boss and his ultimate plan. You don't need to introduce an entire plot worth of fucking shit a third of the way into the game you fucking fuckers

The themes are a fucking dumpsterfire. Just plop some fucktarded work bad money bad bullshit in there and call it a day... Evil monkey man could have given that fucktard anything and got him to hide it in the well and it would have caused a ruckus when he came back and stole it. He could have convinced him to hide his grandma's ashes in the well- would the takeaway from that have been that honoring the dead bad? That's how fucking flat it is. If anything it just comes off as if the people of Tamzilly are just a bunch of mindkilled retards with no defence against humanity's own nature aside from shutting themselves off from the outside world entirely- the slightest contact with normal human interactions like money or having to contribute to society for a living, they all self-destruct. It's not le capitalism that made the old people home bad, it's whoever the fuck actually built it... which, if the outside world weren't basically strawmanned with the le evil pigmans and monkey abuser guy, would have been Tamzilly themselves. Which, because the strawmanning is so unbelievably absurd, makes it seem like Tazmilly is just a retarded place that somehow managed to make the old people's home this bad on their own or some shit I don't know I just can't buy it

Speaking of empathy, the game somehow manages to make the Pig Heil guys endearing even while they're actively working on the thunder tower that's cooking the dumbass town residents. Are they supposed to be abusing the electric catfish when they're cutely telling the things to hang in there and do their best? When Lucas got a jerb hustling the golems around and they managed to make it like a positive thing (the pigmangs encourage you, seemingly pay a decent wage, and even the doggo enjoys running on the treadmill once he gets into it), I thought there was going to be a tweest or at least some nuance, but the absurdity of the nice ol' piglins in the evil tower just makes it seem like it's just entirely unintentional, by writers who just have no idea what the fuck they're doing. The generic braindead modern-bad messaging and the generic brainless funny-characters-ha-ha sides of the writing clash horribly and somehow manage to mangle each other even worse than they already were.

The whimsicality is fucking dead. It's just all so forced and one-note... or, very consistently two-note in every single thing, because absolutely every single monster you meet is just two things funny stuck together. The first two games could glide smoothly between fighting enraged possessed zoo animals and weirdo people, weirdo fucking blended monsters that don't look like anything in particular, and then just sometimes the taxis that're used for decoration on roads will veer off course and engage you in battle. It's simultaneously wildly unpredictable and smoothly cohesive. And it's wonderful. But M3 is just... it leans over, shoves a megaphone down your throat and loudly informs you that "the PIGMEN have FUSED the THINGS toGETHER" and proceeds to beat you over the head with "this thing is THAT thing and THAT thing" over and over again. It's forced, mechanical, hamfisted and just not whimsical at all. And it's not just because the pigmengs aren't Giiigigigigiyasass (which could have been fixed by having them harness traces of Gig's power if that was the problem anyway), because it extends to absolutely everything- the ghosts at the mansion for example are just all absolutely fucking nothing. Like the main big bad boss is just "he's GHOST who THROWS FURNITURE and is BEETHOVEN and plays BEETHOVEN MUSIC". Because Beethoven is old thing therefore old mansion and ghosts, geddit? How fucking pathetic. Oh there's another thing, the weird aliens/conspiracy bent the first two games had is gone entirely. That's something that really helped it feel so wild yet at the same time cohesive... Actually, the game also seems to have done away with the surprise overworld sprite encounters like the aforementioned taxis. ... No wait that's right, they blew their load in the first levels with the rock lizards, which were fucking boring.

The dialogue fucking sucks. just fucking drags the fuck on endlessly for fucking ever to say barely anything, and barely anything you need to actually hear. Did Earthbound ever stop you to inform you that the TAXIS are AFFECTED by GIGUDUGDSAS like you couldn't figure that out yourself? No, they say Gigi's affected shit in a couple sentences near the beginning and let the rest of it speak for itself, pretty much. It's hard to give exact examples because I can't fucking remember any of this shit because it just slides right off my brain like ducks off of water, it's so bland and pointless. The sparrows drone on endlessly with worthless tutorial shit and then take an entire extra sentence to chirp at you and remind you that it's talking animals oh wow wacky!!!!!!! And when Duster decides he really is what you say he is he stands there going "ME IS DUSTER" over and over again like he's fucking Bimpson. You don't have anything interesting to say about finally figuring out who you really are? Okay... There's multiple fucking scenes of slow-scrolling walls of fucking text telling you absolutely nothng you don't already know except that the writers are wanking the fuck off over their own dumbass writing where in Earthbound there was like one scene of this towards the end that really just set up the emotions of the final sequences and underlined how far you'd come and shit and was a good moment of reflection and shit.

I also find it exceptionally intersting that all the people in Tazmilly before the timeskip have names and unique appearances, but anyone who only shows up after is just some generic design called "Man" or "Woman" or what have you. It feels weirdly dehumanizing towards outsiders.

This game fucking feels like the writers just fucking dumped a bunch of absolute shit down like they expected everyone to just eat it up, either because of the success of the previous games or because of the emotional manipulation the plot is laced with. The characters are all either detestable cunts or desperately need to be airlifted out into a better game pronto. And it's unsettlingly... modern in what's wrong with it. The capitalism-bad-tradition-good-mindkill-yourself messaging, the spunky female character(tm) who rubs it in your face how strongk she is (and who keeps talking even when you're controlling her while the other characters all become silent protagonists)... even the weirdly random spite towards characters the narrative has decided aren't "deserving" enough, or characters only being allowed to handle said spite and retain sympathy by cucking to it completely (Duster)... I suppose that's just a sign that these sorts of writing problems and hangups are older than that and have just become more popular/visible in recent times, but it's still really fucking weird to see.

I feel like I should be concerned that the team behind the Earthbound series also started Gamefreak and created Pokemon, though since the split obviously happened before Mo 3 I don't know how much overlap there is between staff members there specifically... seeing as how these exact same sort of writing problems have started to rear their heads in the Pokemon franchise, starting weakly in gen 6 (cough zinnia cough abandoned ship plotline cough) and absolutely fucking exploding in 7 (cough LILLIE COUHG FUCKING TAPUS COUGH AGAG V HIC CUFGH VOMIT AAGHK); I haven't yet fully witnessed gen 8 but everything I've seen of it so far looks no better, except there's no shill character (Marnie is just kinda... there), just suffering. But that's all for another post.

welp time to go watch the remainder of the game until my brain rots off

[dascarecrow]

The Burdens of an Eternal Soul

Oscar arrives at the hospital where Ruby is at. He has a bouquet of flowers in hand. 

Receptionist: Good day Mr. Pine 

Oscar: Good day. 

Oscar makes his way to Ruby’s room. Marrow is inside acting as security.

Marrow: Hey Oscar. Rough day? 

Oscar: No more than any other day. 

Oscar sits down and sets the bouquet on a table next to Ruby’s bed. He’s worn down but seems relieved to finally be with Ruby again. Marrow shoots a look at the flowers. 

Marrow: Flowers.  Real subtle there. 

Oscar (firmly in denial): What are you implying precisely? 

Marrow: Oh come on you’ve been coming here every day since that battle. Not even her family has been doing that.  

Oscar (sympathetic yet letting his own hurt out): It’s probably difficult for them to see someone they love like this. Never knowing when or even if she’ll wake up. Waiting for a day that may never arrive. I can’t blame them for not wanting to be here. 

Marrow: And yet you’ve been getting here every day. The others mentioned you pretty much ran through traffic to get here one day. 

Oscar: A severe exaggeration I assure you. 

Marrow: Point being. Her uncle, her sister, her father have all missed at least a few days. Even Penny hasn’t been here every day and she practically worships the little rose here. I mean half the kingdom seems to right now but you know what I mean. Only you have been here all this time, every day. Without fail. 

Oscar: Is it too much to just want someone you can speak with freely? Someone who won’t judge you for all you’ve done? 

Marrow: Look I get it. We all talk to her. In fact before you got here I was having a riveting conversation about the flagrant abuses the Atlesian elite commit on everyone regardless of species. But you act like a prince courting a maiden. It’s actually very sweet. Kind of nauseating from the outside but sweet. 

Oscar (very much wanting to be done with this conversation): I don’t suppose I could the get the room alone with her. 

Marrow (sympathetically): Yeah no. We might be loosening up but that’s a little too loose. Just pretend I’m not here. 

Oscar: *sighs in exasperation before perking up* Hello Ruby. I just thought I’d come visit. Again. I know we’ve all been busy and I thought someone should be here for if... When. You wake up. Things are still going along they way they have been. It’s still tense between Mantle and Atlas but no one is fighting so there’s that at least. Winter is still working on her plan for the Staff of Creation. It’s been slow going, apparently she’s been having trouble getting the affluent in Atlas to support her works. Weiss and her family are trying to win them over but it’s a coin toss how well that will go. Blake and the Happy Huntresses are trying to get the Faunus who were displace settled and things in Mantle are going far more smoothly. Everyone else is just going where they’re needed. It’s mostly just been hunting down Grimm but there’s been some.. concerning dialogue among the populace. Mantle isn’t willing to tolerate the actions of Atlas anymore. Things were always problematic here but James... he pushed everything past the boiling point. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before that comes to haunt us all. 

Oscar looks crestfallen and sighs as he closes his eyes. 

Oscar: I wish you were awake Ruby. You just seem to always know what needs to be done even if you don’t know how to make it happen. Ever since Oz entered my life I’ve been trying to find the answers we all need. The answers even Oz could never find. But you never hesitate in going forward. An uncertain path doesn’t stop you. You just reshape it to go forward. If you were awake we’d already be on our way to the next plan to fight Salem. But you aren’t right now. And all any of us can do is the best we can. 

Oscar looks away before he continues. 

Oscar: I must sound so selfish right now. We saved Atlas. We did stop Salem. She ran away for the entire world to see. We’re all starting to unite against her. I should be happy. But all I can think of is that you didn’t deserve this. That it shouldn’t have come to this. I wish we could have had a pure victory. Something that didn’t have to come at a cost. Just us winning with no price. 

Oscar looks at Ruby. 

Oscar: And the worst part is I don’t want that for your sake. I want it for mine. There are things I want to say to you. And only to you. Things from the depths of my very soul. 

Marrow groans in annoyance and brings out some headphones. 

Marrow: Hey prince I’m going to listen to some tunes. Say whatever you need to. Just keep your hands to yourself. I don’t need her father murdering me in my sleep for not trying to stop you. 

Oscar (shocked and grateful): Okay. Ruby Rose you are amazing. Incredible. Magnificent. There are so many words that could describe you and all of them would never be enough. The one that fits you most would be... Ephemeral. You see the best in others. It is a fundamental truth for you that humanity is inherently good. And you continue to believe that no matter how many times someone tries to convince you that you are wrong. You inspire others to believe it too and you inspire them to believe in and follow you. Your eyes are some of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in all of my lives. They shine like the stars and even the most brilliant diamonds are only dimming candles compared to them. Your voice is what hope must sound like if it could speak. Your father told us you had a wonderful singing voice. I hope I can hear it at least once in this life of mine. You have been there for me since I set out on this journey. You’ve guided me, more than Oz has in some ways. I have looked at you with my heart and the fullest depths of my soul. I see you truly for all you have done. And I believe that for all that you have done for me and for the world... that I have fallen in love with you Ruby. To me you will be special in all this world. And I can only hope and wish that to you I will be special in all this world. I can’t think of any words that describe you truly and fully for all that you have come to mean to me. You are... my dearest Rose. I shall love for all that I can give and you will be special for that love, no matter what the world shall say of you. 

Oscar smiles at finally being able to admit his feelings but then starts to frown. His head falls into his hands as he starts to cry. 

Oscar (crying): Please wake up Ruby. We need you. I... need you.  You are my Rose and I can’t live without you in my life. 

[heuristicallyinclined]

MallekWeek2020 Day 1 Writing Prompt

Day 1: What happened after Mallek's Friendsim route

(AO3)

If someone told you you would be spending your evening on the less dirty side of a couch belonging to a guy who genuinely thought you were a robot when he met you, you probably would have absolutely believed it. Honestly, you might have felt some relief knowing you would get a break from the usual life-threatening antics. Things might have started out weird, but chilling on someone’s couch was a nice change of pace. Even if there is a giant snake staring at you from across the room, seemingly unblinking. Can snakes blink? Do alien snakes blink? You don’t think this one does at least. You hope Mallek comes back soon.

The two of you had gone for a dip in some sewer water, willingly and otherwise, and had come back up to his apartment to get cleaned up. He offered to let you shower first since he did push you. You let him know you weren’t holding a grudge or anything, but he insisted. You did get a much needed change of clothes out of it though, so that was nice. You offered to see yourself out after your shower, not wanting to overstay your welcome, but he said it was cool. You are now wondering if he was just saying that to be polite. You mean, other people haven’t had much of a problem telling you to fuck off, but you think you are really feeling a friendship from him and you don’t want to risk it losing it because you can’t take a hint. You guess it is too late now, since while you were weighing your option, he enters the room.

Mallek plops down next to you on the couch and you look up at him and give him a friendly smile. You thank him again for being cool about the whole robot and palmhusk in the water thing, but he stops you.

“dude; its cool; you already apologized; were good;”

You relax a bit more at the reaffirmation. People have done worse for less and he felt bad enough to make it up to you. Maybe you are just waiting for the other shoe to drop?

“anyways; im hungry and am getting delivery; what do you want;”

Wait you’re getting fed? Oh he doesn’t have to do that and you don’t have anything to chip in right now an-

“i didnt really expect you to have money; im buying;”

You don’t have to do that, you’re good, you even ate today!

He shoots you a look of concern. Maybe you saying it like that was less than reassuring that you’re “good.”

“im not just going to eat in front of you; come on; plus my original plans fell through;”

You’re about to ask what when he nudges you with an easygoing smile. Oh, he was probably hoping to mess with a robot.

“here; what sounds good to you; i pulled up grubhub;”

What.

“oh yeah you = alien; you can get food off of it; here;”

He shows you his palmhusk and you scoot closer to see the screen. What the actual fuck. How is this a universal constant? Like you know they have a kind of bug theme going on and slap the word grub on things in ways you don’t really get. This still is a lot for you though. He is explaining it to you and you stop him. You fill him in. He chuckles and seems to be amused by this.

“that = weird dude; how about the food;”

Nope, the food is still eluding you. Some stuff seems to have Earthen equivalents and just have bugs or grubs on them or something. Others you have no idea what to make of. He can get whatever he thinks is good and you’re cool with getting whatever he is gets. He puts an order in.

“sure; but grubs = the best part;”

You disagree.

He laughs, “dibs on yours then;”

They’re all his.

You smile at him and it feels easy to do. You ask what you two are doing until then.

“how about a movie; = you cool with that”

Sure!

Okay, you are actually really pumped about this. A movie night with some delivery? That sounds like a really fun night. This is something actually you want to do, instead of just getting through to try to be his friend. You tell him to choose whatever, you haven’t seen anything other than a few romcoms anyways. Plus, him asking you to choose between two movies would take him ten minutes just to get through the titles. He chuckles at this and starts flipping through titles.

“do you like action movies;”

Yeah.

“how about bad ones;”

Like a really cheesy movie?

“yeah;”

Sounds fun. But you haven’t seen a lot of Alternian media, so whatever he picks is going to inform your opinion of his species. No pressure.

You hope he gets that this is a joke. Joking has felt easy to do with him so far and you want to keep doing it. You would hate to ruin it by saying the wrong thing and having him tell you to get out. By the way he is laughing though, he seems to appreciate it.

He grins at you, “okay; then this is going to be accurate as hell; enjoy;”

You’re ready for it.

Except you aren’t because there is a knock on the door. Mallek starts to get up, but you tell him you can at least grab it for him since he ordered it. You bound up to the door and open it with a delivery guy reading off the order for you to confirm. You realize you don’t know what Mallek ordered and the delivery guy looks up when you don’t answer. You also then realize he wasn’t expecting to see an alien answering a highblood’s door, based off of how he was looking at you. To his credit, he doesn’t drop the food. You just just grab it and thank him, basically slamming the door in his face with mild panic. You turn around and Mallek is there. You two look at each other and he doubles over. His laughter is contagious and soon you are too. You eventually collect yourself.

You feel bad, you know the poor guy doesn’t get paid enough for that.

“hes fine; does everyone do that when they see you;”

Depends on if they’re looking for a robot or not.

He chuckles and shakes his head. You settle back onto the couch with him with some plates and pop the box open. You see what looks like a very creative interpretation of pizza covered in mostly plants. And grubs. Cool. You grab a slice and start picking them off. It tastes good, not what you were expecting, but not bad. You grab another slice.

“how = it;”

You let him know you like it.

“enough to try it with grubs;”

Absolutely not.

He grabs one of the ones you picked off of your plate and into his mouth, “suit yourself;”

The two of you get back to watching the movie and you get comfortable. It has so many explosions and unrealistic combat scenes. Which you feel you now have the authority to judge based off what you’ve seen with Skyyla, Remele, Konyyl, Azdaja, and wow actually this is a concerning amount of violence you’ve seen. Hope that doesn’t have any long term consequences.

The acting is also just so bad. Like you know very little about quadrants, but based off of that and how prickly trolls can be, this is forced as hell. They have no chemistry in a love or hate way. God Polypa would be having a field day with this one. The characters are just. A lot. Some douchey main, secondary buddy dude, the veteran, romantic lead. There are so many cliches and you are having fun hating it, wait, did you just accidentally understand kissmesitude? Because of this shitty movie? Damn it.

There is one hacker character who does tech stuff for the leads. He uses a bunch of technical sounding jargon that you suspect means nothing based off of how Mallek is rolling his eyes. You don’t feel too bad interrupting the riveting dialogue.

So did any of that mean anything?

“fuck no; none of that made sense;”

You continue watching it, curling up fully on the couch now. More explosions and fight scenes. You wonder if humans and trolls have more in common than you originally thought just because of how you share so many tropes, just spun a bit differently. The hacker character utters, “I’m in,” and you can’t help it and smirk.

That’s you.

“that = me; you = right;”

This is easy and you like it, Just dumb side commentary during dumb movies.

Seriously, have you ever hacked anything and said “I’m in”?

“no;” he pauses and smiles at you, “but i have thought it;”

You wouldn’t be a real information specialist if you didn’t.

You grab another slice and immediately put the grubs on Mallek’s plate. The hero saves the day and triumphs doing some backflips off of a burning building. The buddy makes a joke that falls flat. The two kiss. Everyone is happy and the credits roll.

You look over at Mallek, sprawled out on the couch, legs on top of yours. He seems to always keep up a cool demeanor, but this is probably the first time you’ve seen him be genuinely relaxed. You wish you could be that relaxed, you were having fun, you really were, but the movie was over now and you didn’t know where that left you. As reluctant as you are to break the silence, you do.

So the movie is done now, do you want me to help clean up before I go?

“it = getting late; do you want to go;”

You hope you aren’t reading too far into this but you think he maybe doesn’t want you to leave yet.

You were down to watch another one if he was.

“Sweet; i =”

You were actually having a lot of fun.

He raises an eyebrow at you when you make this admission.

“Actually;”

Wait, by that you me-

“im just messing with you; yeah; i havent had a movie day with friends in a while; it = nice;”

He said friend! You were beaming at him. He returned the look albeit more tiredly.

“= you ready for the next one;”

You nodded and he pressed play.

[psychosistr]

The Stars of the Stage- Chapter 2

Summary: Jonathan runs into a familiar face while getting breakfast at his local coffee shop- lucky for him, that familiar face is quite handsome.

Notes: Who doesn't love a good old fashioned cute "accidentally met up at the coffee shop scenario"? x3

-First Chapter-

Needless to say, Speedwagon got the part of Sir Haste Dray without any other actors really being considered. Soon enough, the rest of the cast list was set, full scripts were sent out to the chosen actors, and rehearsals were scheduled to begin.

Jonathan was excited to see how well the show would come together. However, first, he had to finish up a few last-minute touch-ups for the script. The lines would still be essentially the same, he was just revising the movements for the climactic final fight to make it more dramatic while still being believable.

To help with his concentration, he went to work at the same place he always did when the weather was nice- his favorite coffee shop situated along the river near his apartment complex, The Ripple. He was seated outside at a table under the awning with his laptop open on the table in front of him and a large covered coffee cup with a plate of pastries off to the side. In the middle of deleting a line he’d just typed and had found less than satisfactory, however, he heard a voice calling his name.

“Mr.Joestar?” A figure accompanied the voice approaching him and he looked up to see a familiar looking blonde man dressed in a white tank top and a dark hat. “Ah, thought that was you. ‘ow’s it goin’, Mr.Joestar?” The man greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Oh! Mr.Speedwagon!” Jonathan smiled at him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the keyboard to see the other man more clearly. “What a pleasant surprise.” He gestured to the seat across from himself at the table. “Stopping in for a drink? If you would like, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

“Mighty kind o’ y’.” Speedwagon grinned and headed for the entrance to the café. “Lemme just go grab a cup an’ I’ll be right back.” He was quick to return with a much smaller cup than Jonathan’s own and a simple croissant rather than Jonathan’s platter of pastries. “So, do y’ come ‘ere often?”

“Actually, yes.” Jonathan chuckled, pointing to his apartment complex down the street. “I actually live right over there. I usually end up here nearly every day of the week, depending on how busy I am.”

“Ha! Y’ gotta be kiddin’ me!” The other man chuckled and pointed at an apartment complex on the opposite side of the river facing the one that Jonathan had pointed at. “I live over in that one, on the fourth floor. Just moved in a few weeks back an’ I’m learnin’ me way ‘round the neighborhood.”

“Really?” Jonathan looked at where he’d pointed then back to his own, noting how the fourth floor lined up with the floor he lived on almost evenly. “Why, it would appear that we are neighbors then.” He chuckled a bit- life sure did work in mysterious ways. “In all likelihood, we’ll certainly be seeing quite a bit of each other.”

Speedwagon took a sip of his drink with a pleased hum. “Well, I sure wouln’ mind that one bit.” He set the cup down and broke off a piece of his croissant. “Say, while I got y’ ‘ere, there’s somethin’ I’d been meanin’ t’ ask y’.”

Jonathan watched the blonde curiously while eating one of his own confections. “Oh?” He swallowed and gestured for Speedwagon to continue. “What would that be, Mr.Speedwagon?”

The blonde man winced slightly at the title. “Ugh, please don’ call me that..makes me feel old. Just Speedwagon’s fine, or even Robert- but don’ go callin’ me Bob or anythin’ like that or I may have t’ deck y’.”

Jonathan chuckled a bit and nodded in agreement. “In that case, please refrain from calling me ‘Mr.Joestar’- just Jonathan is fine, or even Jojo, as that is how most of my friends and colleagues refer to me.”

“Alrigh’ then, Jojo.” Speedwagon’s smile returned, apparently pleased with the increased familiarity between the two of them now. “I read through the script that y’ sent me, an’ I was wonderin’ if I could ask y’ somethin’ ‘bout me character.”

Jonathan nodded as he listened, wondering if perhaps he’d made something unclear about Sir Haste Dray that he would need to explain in more detail. “About Sir Dray? Of course, what would you like to know?”

“Well..it might jus’ be me readin’ too much of meself int’ the character..but..” He paused, tapping his finger against the coffee cup as if considering his wording carefully. “I know the romantic focus for Lord Samuel Sunstone ‘s Lady Bella Penrith..but..does Sir Dray, y’know, ‘ave feelin’s for Lord Sunstone, too?”

Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly. “What..?” Had he really…?

Speedwagon looked back up at him with a thoughtful expression. “Don’ get me wrong, I love the relationship with Samuel an’ Bella, i’s really sweet an’ a long time comin’..but..I dunno, when I read Dray’s lines, the way ‘e talks about lovin’ Samuel’s good nature an’ ‘ow ‘e completely devotes ‘imself to the guy..it just makes me think ‘e might ‘ave a thing for ‘im, y’know?” He frowned at Jonathan’s wide-eyed stare. “I mean, if I’m wrong, y’ can tell me, I was just wonderin’-”

He was startled when Jonathan suddenly reached across the table with both hands and grabbed Speedwagon’s shoulders with an excited smile on his face and stars in his eyes. “You actually picked up on that?! Oh, I cannot believe it! I did not know if that would still come through, but I am delighted you were able to see it!!”

Speedwagon blinked in confusion. “Wait..so..I got it right..?”

“You did!” Jonathan suddenly realized that he had grabbed the smaller man and released him, settling back down in his seat with a slight flush to his cheeks. “My apologies, I became too excited again..I just..I am so happy you were able to notice the truth about Sir Dray’s feelings!” He was still smiling, he couldn’t help it with how excited he was. “I wanted to write their relationship into the story as well, but William said it would confuse the audience since most don’t associate such things with the time period. I tried to tell him that there was an entire subculture and code-system practiced by homosexuals during the Victorian era, but he said it would feel like too much for the audience to believe. So, I was forced to remove a few scenes with Samuel and Dray having the discussion about Dray’s sexual identity and the implications of such a thing between himself and Samuel, but I did not want to change any of the other scenes with them, so I left the dialogue unchanged. I cannot tell you how happy I am to know that their connection was still able to shine through enough for someone to recognize it!”

Speedwagon smiled too, beaming with pride. “I’m jus’ glad I wasn’ misjudgin’ the guy. People tell me all the time I’m tryin’ t’ projec’ me own ‘preferences’ ont’ characters. Good t’ know I was right on this one.”

Jonathan paused for a moment hearing those words, trying not to blush as a rogue idea crossed his mind. “So then..you are..?”

Speedwagon winked at him with a chuckle. “Yep. Gay as a maypole, mate.”

“O-Oh..I see..” Jonathan glanced away, his cheeks feeling warm. Really, now, how ridiculous was that? He barely knew the man and after one short conversation he felt like a school boy with a crush? Honestly, why was he like this? “Well, in any case, I am truly glad you identified so well with Sir Dray. Honestly, I was overjoyed that William allowed me to caste you for the part- you were a perfect fit.”

“Glad y’ thought so, ‘e caught my attention from the moment I read ‘is description.” He took a sip of his coffee and finished up his croissant. “By the way..mind if I ask y’ one more question ‘bout Dray an’ Samuel?”

“You may ask as many questions as you please- I am always excited to talk about my work.” Jonathan replied honestly, more than happy to discuss such things with someone insightful enough to understand his writing so well.

“Hmh, good t’ know.” Speedwagon smiled and set down his coffee cup before asking his question. “I jus’ wanted t’ know..are Dray’s feelin’s for Samuel one-sided, or does Samuel return some of it? Like I said, I’m fine with Samuel an’ Bella’s romance, but thinkin’ that ‘e doesn’ know ‘bout Dray’s feelin’s or jus’ allows the guy t’ follow ‘im ‘round knowin’ ‘e loves ‘im is kinda sad, y’know?”

“Ah..that is a good question.” Jonathan’s smile softened into something more understanding. “To answer it simply- no, Dray’s feelings are not one-sided. Samuel is quite aware of how his dearest friend feels, and, in one of the scenes I unfortunately had to cut, he discusses with his mentor that he has feelings for both his best friend and his long-time crush. He goes on to say that, in a perfect world, he would be allowed to marry both of them and live a long, happy life with the two who have supported him and showed him such love and kindness right when he needed it the most. His teacher acknowledges that his feelings are pure and that he deserves such a life, but advises him on how, even without the influence of the same dark forces the antagonist controls, that peoples’ hearts are fickle and easily led astray by misconceptions and tells him not to be too public with his affections, for both his own and Dray’s safety. I even wrote a scene towards the end where, after Samuel’s wedding to Bella, when they step into their horse-drawn carriage to be carted off for their honeymoon, Dray was the one waiting to open the door for them instead of a random servant. Dray and Samuel would have shared a loving smile at one another before Dray and Bella winked at each other knowingly and each kissed one of Samuel’s cheeks before all three went off into the carriage together to start their new life.”

Speedwagon listened to his words intently, looking positively riveted by the story. “That sounds beautiful, Jojo! Do y’ still ‘ave a copy with those scenes? I’d love t’ read ‘em some time.”

“Certainly.” He replied with a grin. “Would you like me to bring them to the set during the first rehearsal?”

“Hm..I’d rather not wait that long..” Speedwagon reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He then proceeded to write something on his coffee cup as he talked. “Tell y’ what, seein’ as we live so close t’ each other, ‘ow ‘bout we just meet up ‘ere again sometime?” He brought the cup to his lips and chugged the last of his drink before setting the cup down near Jonathan’s hand. “I gotta get goin’, else I’ll miss work, but I usually keep me phone on me.” He gave Jonathan a wink as he stood up and grabbed the rest of his trash before walking away. “Be seein’ y’, Jojo.”

Jonathan’s face heated up again from the wink. “F-Farewell for now, Speedwagon.” He managed a wave and a smile, feeling really shy and screaming at himself internally because DID HE REALLY JUST STUTTER LIKE THAT?!!

Once Speedwagon was out of sight, Jonathan looked back down at the coffee cup and grabbed it. He turned it around until he saw that Speedwagon had written his phone number along the side of it along with a message:

“You’re really cute and I like listening to you talk. Looking forward to doing it again sometime- maybe here, or maybe somewhere else? ;) <3 –Speedwagon”

The heat that had previously been burning at his cheeks blossomed into a full-fledged blush that encompassed both of his cheeks and his ears, leaving his face very red.

So, he wasn’t the only one feeling something? That was good to know…

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes: That's all I have for now, but will post more when I eventually get the chance x3

Also, for anyone curious about the names of the characters from the play, they're all synonyms or close-enough names to the characters from the regular universe because I am half-lazy and half-bad taste in humor x3

[supposed2bfunny]

Unbound-a 2doc drabble

“Alright then?” 2D asks, sitting back on his haunches and looking down at Murdoc thoughtfully.

Murdoc smirks up at him, fingers flexing a little to gauge how tight the silk bonds are around his wrists. He still has a decent amount of mobility. Nothing hurts, circulation is not being interrupted. And it certainly isn’t the first time he’s been bound to the headboard of his bed by a lover. Absolutely no alarms are ringing in his head. “Perfectly comfy,” he assures. “Might even kip if you keep up the pace. Can you at least get your trousers off?”

“Oh, they’re not coming off,” 2D replies with a smile, settling down on Murdoc’s lap, looking content as can be. “But I knew you’d never agree to letting me do this unless I spiced it up, mentioned some bondage. You’re more predictable than you’d like to think, you old goth.”

For the first time, Murdoc feels himself start to tense under that stare. “Agree to let you do what, exactly?”

Relationships are not work. At least, they don’t really have to be. They are routine. You figure someone out, and then you follow the rules of that person’s mechanism, input the correct sort of dialogue at the correct moments, agitate when the situation calls for, and ultimately maintain or destroy the relationship according to how much money it can make you, or what drugs it can score you. Simple really.

His routine with 2D has been a complex one, evolving gradually but persistently over the years, requiring a lot of tweaking. First they were mates who occasionally snogged whenever they got high together (they smoked a lot of weed). Then they were fuck buddies. More recently, they’ve been treading into water that was warmer and much deeper than anything Murdoc is familiar with. And Murdoc has always been like a ship’s captain: at his most comfortable when he is in the water, but able to see land in the distance if he squints. 2D has gone from legal obligation to frontman to tempest so slowly that Murdoc didn’t see it coming until he’d been pulled in too deep, and now, wherever he strains to look, he can no longer spot land, only the phantom shadows of solid ground that turn out to be tricks of the eye.

“Hey, you with me?” 2D draws him out of his contemplation with soft, cool fingertips on his temple.

“Yeah, ‘course. Now what exactly do you want? How do you want me?”

“Well...” 2D blushes, tips his head at such an angle that, though the dark light of the bedroom obstructs any ability to see the rustbrown bloodstains in his eyes, Murdoc can intuit that he must be looking down, gaze snagging to the left, unable to look into the bassist’s face as he speaks. “Remember last week-”

“No.”

“Quiet! You bloody alcoholic. Remember last week, when we were listening to that bloke on that radio station who interviewed us a month ago?”

“That was Howard-fucking-Stern, you tit.”

“So you do remember,” he teases, smiling triumphantly, and again Murdoc is able to recognize that 2D’s eyes are focused on his face again, though he can’t quite make out how he knows it. “Anyway, he was saying how fun it was to interview you and Russel in August.”

“Yeah, so?”

“And then, he said how Russel was real easy to get along with, the kind of bloke you’d want to go out for a drink with after an interview.”

“Pretty sure he wouldn’t use the term ‘bloke,’ sunshine. American.”

“And he said that you were really fun to talk to too! He said that everyone has this image in their head of you as a jerk or a bad guy, but you’re really quite smart and funny. And he’d love to interview you, or have you co-host one of his shows sometime.”

“Right. This has been riveting. Now, about that kip-”

“When you and I heard him say that last week, say how he liked you, you got this weird look on your face. You said no one’d ever said such nice things about you so earnestly. And well, Muds. Well...i thought that that was rather, um, sad. So I kind of wanted to...uh, I just figured.”

Murdoc tips his head back and closes his eyes, pretending to doze off. 2D pinches his cheeks playfully, and though he keeps his eyes closed, he can hear the singer’s smile when he finally forces his words out:

“I was thinking I should say nice stuff to you. Only I figured you’d tell me to bugger off. So I made up a whole story about wanting to try something different, and using silk to tie you down and well...” his fingers go from pinching to stroking, and Murdoc opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling rather than at 2D. Think of swimming in the ocean. The shallow shelf is so often bigger than you’d expect it to be; you can walk out into the water for what seems like a quarter of a mile and still touch the bottom. And then, eventually you reach that point where you set your foot down to kick off, and you no longer find the bottom.

“Dents.”

“Murdoc,” it’s somewhere between begging and whining, his tone. “Let me do this, okay? Just give it a shot.”

“Happy ending included?”

He chuckles. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m sure you can multi-task,” he assures, rolling his hips up just a bit to feel the singer’s weight on top of him. Neither of them is hard: they hadn’t gotten to the foreplay yet. At least, he’d assumed there would be foreplay. And sex. And not this pathetic, mushy, how-the-fuck-did-Howard-Stern-precipitate-this?

“Fine. Let’s start with the obvious: you’re really smart, and I love to listen to you talk about smart stuff.”

He snorts. Oh, this isn’t going to be sexy. But at least it will be funny.

“I mean it! Not when you’re faking. I know that you don’t really know anything about Korean fashion like you told Noodle you do yesterday, and I know that you don’t have a master’s in archeology.”

“You know that, and you still licked that rock we found behind Kong when I asked you to. Remarkable.”

“You’re smart about useful stuff. Like how you were saying that ‘Girl’ was such a revelation to listen to when you were young because Lennon was using his voice as an instrument, not just as a means of saying lyrics prettily.”

“He was also referencing weed, mate.” Murdoc makes a similar inhaling noise to the one John Lennon makes in the song, trying to get 2D to understand that it’s a joke about hitting a blunt, nothing clever about it, just silly. “This is the same song that uses the word ‘tit’ in the background. Just randy northerners being randy, having some fun.”

“You’re trying to play it off now, but they way you first described it to me, Muds. the way you described vocalizations as instrumentation, it was incredible. You’re so smart about music, about ways to get the best feedback when we’re recording, about why you prefer to play without a pick because you like the way the strings vibrate against the pads of your fingers even though it hurts just a bit since you play so much.”

He leans forward then, still cupping Murdoc’s face, but now he also kisses his forehead. “You’re also very talented. Y’know, I could see you having a million different jobs if rock star hadn’t worked out. Not that I’m not happy Gorillaz have made it big, but. Well, you’re so handy around Kong that sometimes I think you could start a business. Just figuring shit out for people, fixing their leaky pipes and getting their teles to play all the channels.”

“That’s what plumbers are for,” he mumbles as another kiss is pressed to his brow, then another to his temple. “And I only sorted out the problem with the TV because Noodle was badgering me about it and I couldn’t take it.”

“I’ve imagined you as the guy who plays piano during intermissions at plays and musicals, because I think you’d make the waiting time between performances fun for people. And I could also picture you as a model for art students: the sort who poses in all sorts of outfits, or nude, so they can learn anatomy.”

“You’ve fantasized about that? Maybe you’re kinkier’n I gave you credit for, Stu-pot.”

“And speaking of you modeling, you’re beautiful to me, Murdoc. I love how sharp your collarbone is, and how elegant your fingers are, even when you’re just relaxing, your hands always look so delicate. I like the way you tend to look at things out of the corner of your eye when you’re trying to act disinterested; you don’t move your head, but your eyes flicker. And I love the little canine tooth on the left corner of your mouth, cuz it’s turned out a bit and it looks sharp, like a fang.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious-”

“No, I mean it’s my right canine tooth. Your left, my right.”

“Oh, yeah. Oops,” he loses his concentration for just a moment, glances at Murodc’s mouth, and the bassist obliges, opening his mouth to reveal his sharp tooth. “There it is! Also, I wasn’t done.”

“Stu, you don’t have to do this.” By which he means he’s not sure if he can take more of this. This is way off of their routine banter. This is meaningful. And Murdoc has always considered himself too nihilistic to handle meaningful things.

“You agreed to this,” he replies. “You’re bound and you’re not getting away from me, Murdoc.” 

He looms over him, and for a brief instant, Murdoc thinks, I’m drowning. But then, 2D’s mouth is on his, and he’s not thinking anything other than don’t stop kissing me, you feel so good.

“So where was I?,” he asks, and he begins to talk and he kisses Murdoc’s neck, his chest, strokes his hair soothingly. “Oh yeah, I like the way you look when you smoke, when you’re really lost in a story and your cigarette is burning down to ash and you don’t even notice because you’re so caught up talking, the way it dangles from your fingers. You’re good to me in ways no one else is. Like, you don’t ever make fun of me when you tie my shoes for me, but you also don’t make me feel like a baby for needing your help. Whenever we’re out shopping, you always pick up the candy I like, and you don’t yell at me when I eat the whole bag in one sitting, even though I get an upset stomach after. And I love how, when you pull me onto your lap, you tap your fingers against my waist like you’re keeping time to a tune. Like holding me close is a kind of song for you.”

2D’s hands have begun to travel down Murdoc’s face, along the column of his throat, over his ribs. The touch isn’t particularly sensual; it’s more grounding than anything else. He’s tempted to tell 2D that holding him is a song. He’s not stupid enough to actually say that out loud.

“You already know that I love you. And even though you can be a real hemorrhoid, you’re also the most interesting person I’ve ever dated.”

“Aw, Stu, we’re dating? I had no idea, congratulations.” Deflect. Deflect the warmth flooding into his chest with humor while there’s still room for coherent thought. He’s taking on way too much emotion. When you’re out this deep, so far from shore, it’s often too late by the time you realize that there’s a problem.

“I wanted to tie you down so you wouldn’t be able to run away or touch me to distract me. I wanted to have you here, at my mercy, Murdoc. To tell you that I love you more than I think I’ve ever loved anything, and that’s really scary. It’s also kind of beautiful. Just like you. You can be scary, but also so lovely to anyone who knows how to look at you,” he leans in again, presses their foreheads together, closes his eyes for a few beats. He opens them, and Murdoc can see only endless black. He should be terrified. Instead, he tilts his head up, tentatively asks for a kiss. 2D obliges, hands sliding down his body further, to settle on his hips, to anchor him here in this jet-black depth.

“You’re saying you know how to look at me.”

“Yeah.”

“You, and Howard Stern both.”

It takes hims him a moment, and then he’s laughing. “You can’t be serious for five minutes, can you?”

“Dents, this is a lot to take in. Do you think we can do other stuff while you tell me all this so I don’t have to process it all right this second?”

“I don’t want this to be about sex, Murdoc,” he argues, looking hurt. “I want it to be about you understanding what you mean to me, all the things I love about you.”

“Yeah, I bloody well got that,” he replies. “But this is a little much for me. Maybe if you give me some distraction, I can take this all in now, and process it a little later?” He squirms a bit, feeling vulnerable for the first time. Strange, since he had no problem lying down on his back when he was certain he was going to be stripped of his clothes.

2D mulls this idea over, then ultimately nods. “You promise you’re listening though? If I touch you, you’ll still hear what I’m saying?”

He meets his lover’s gaze without hesitating. “No one has ever complimented my collarbone before, you know.”

2D smiles and leans close for another kiss. “You have been paying attention.” Another kiss. “Okay, as long as you keep that up. Should I untie the bonds?”

“Nah, leave ‘em. I like to be tied up. I’ve got just one request before we continue.”

2D’s hands pause over Murdoc’s belt buckle. “Anything, Murdoc.”

“Maybe some day, when I’m there mentally, you’ll let me do this for you in return?”

The singer’s smile is daybreak after a storm. “I’d really like that, yeah.”

“Good,” he replies, closing his eyes, letting his head fall back, and enjoying the familiar slide of his belt being pulled from his trousers. “I think I would too. Now tell me how much you love my singing voice; say that I’m a better vocalist than you.”

“Now you’re really pushing your luck, Niccals.”

Relationships are not work, they are routine. There is ebb and flow to them. 2D has never been predictable, practicable. The thrill of being pulled out into deeper waters, once nerve-wracking, has become a hobby for Murdoc. He cannot feel the shore beneath his feet. There are black eyes above him, watching him take on this mysterious romance till he begins to sink. He’s learned to trust that once he slips under, he will not forget how to breathe. Instead, he will find a world below the surface that looks similar to the one he left behind on land. Similar, but safer somehow, protected by roiling waves above and currents that know where to go. A turquoise-hued utopia. All he has to do is let go. And some day, he certainly will.

[mobius-prime]

203. Sonic the Hedgehog #135

The Tommy Trilogy (Part One): Agents of K.N.O.T.H.O.L.E.

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

Well, the title of this story kind of gives away the mystery of the cover image, huh? Sonic finds himself once again traveling to the Forbidden Zone in search of a undercover contact who just so happens to be a turtle. Interestingly, his narration as he makes his way into the bar that they're supposed to meet in notes that though the Forbidden Zone is apparently under Eggman's control, the Mobians that live there have refused to defect to the side of Knothole, instead keeping their heads down and hoping to not get involved. This is the first inkling we've ever gotten of a population besides Angel Island trying to stay neutral in the war, and since Eggman has more important things to focus on than the residents of a small out of the way town in the middle of nowhere they've been largely successful so far.

As this is going on, in some undisclosed location, Eggman and Snively talk about a mysterious project of theirs. Whatever they're creating, apparently the first hundred models of it failed, but their hundred-and-first is operational. Sounds suspicious… Back in the bar, Sonic slides into a booth across from a similarly hooded figure, reciting some code words, and who pops out of his cloak but Tommy Turtle! Yeah, turns out he survived the explosion at the factory a year ago, and only recently managed to message Sally and Sonic about his continued existence.

Now that's interesting. It seems Ceneca-9009 thought of everything, and tried to make sure that a Mobian once deroboticized can't be reroboticized, but somehow Eggman has found a way around that. Sonic and Tommy's conversation is then interrupted by none other than the same "friends" Tommy was hanging around last time we saw him - Sleuth Dawg, Drago, and the Fearsome Foursome, all roboticized once more! What a conveniently relevant conversation there, guys! The roboticized goons try to place the two friends under arrest, but Sonic easily dodges their attacks and begins kicking their metal butts with ease. He even gets his chance to throw in some sass here and there - but Tommy isn't doing as well as he is, being a noncombatant.

Sonic decides to hurry things along, finishing off his own opponents and rushing to Tommy's aid. However, he's startled to find that somehow, Drago and Sleuth have both disappeared from the scene, with Tommy looking perfectly unharmed. Tommy explains that he was able to hotwire the two of them and reprogram them to go throw themselves into the nearest lake, and that's good enough for Sonic. Together, the two leave the messed-up bar behind, with Sonic glad to have Tommy back and alive once more…

Anonymous

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: Jason Jensen

So what exactly is the deal with the roboticization thing, anyway? Time to find out in a story that clearly takes place before the previous one. A.D.A.M. gets Eggman's attention in his base and directs him into a room where stand the six villains of the story prior, all roboticized and awaiting commands. The twist? Eggman didn't do it. He's just as surprised as we are to see them standing there roboticized once more. Eggman is of course eager to find out who has managed to reverse the anti-roboticization effects on them, and has A.D.A.M. run diagnostics on their memory banks to find any useful information.

Several hours later, A.D.A.M. rouses Eggman from his nap only to give him the bad news - their memory banks are totally locked down from accessing information about who retransformed them. The only thing he was able to find was a brief image of their benefactor, which has been similarly censored out, leaving only the impression of someone Eggman-sized behind. The final piece of information A.D.A.M. is able to retrieve is that the person behind it has signed their work merely as "Anonymous," which only frustrates Eggman more, as he has no idea if this person is friend or foe. Hmm, so the famous hacker group is behind this, eh? Watch yourself then Eggman, they tend to not like fascists.

Mobius 25 Years Later: Dealing With the Devil

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

It's time for another riveting piece of teen drama! Lien-Da, after dropping Salma off at home, is ready to interrogate Rutan about where he was last night. Rutan isn't looking forward to the repercussions of his actions, but is grateful when Dimitri steps in to give his two cents.

This sucks in so many ways. Like, how can you make me cringe so much from just a few lines of dialogue? Yes, teenagers often want to sneak off to make out with their crushes. Lien-Da should know this, especially as she appears to be a single mother with no father in sight, indicating Rutan is perhaps the result of a one night stand. But then Penders has to go and make it all weird and have Lien-Da get like, bizarrely feminist on Dimitri, and not the reasonable kind of "I just want equality" feminist, more the "rabid social justice warrior who takes offense at everything" kind of strawman feminist. When has any of this ever been established as part of Lien-Da's personality? Why did we need this weird "man, boys and girls are sooooo different" tangent? It's just… so weird and out of place.

For a moment, we actually take a turn into something mildly interesting - that is, the matter of how exactly Lien-Da and Dimitri got to be where they are today. Apparently, at some unspecified time in the past, when Eggman's empire was on the verge of crumbling, he captured Dimitri with the intention of using him to somehow fix everything. When Dimitri refused, Eggman took his revenge… somehow, which resulted in Dimitri becoming the disembodied head that he is today. Lien-Da thinks that he holds a grudge against her for not saving him from his fate, but he retorts that he's only angry because once he was incapacitated (and decapitated), she drove the Legion forward in her own self interest instead of following his vision… which we're not even sure what it was supposed to be in the first place. Again, all of this is extremely vague - seriously, this entire story arc seems to want to gloss over everything that could actually be interesting in favor of the awkward domestic dealings of heroes past their prime and their annoying, bratty offspring. Lien-Da cuts the budding argument off at this point to go right back to the clearly most pressing question of the evening - namely, what exactly Rutan was doing with his girlfriend last night.

I love how this entire thing comes across as though Penders thinks he's danced around the issue of teenagers boning oh so carefully, when really it's done with all the finesse of a drunk baby deer trying to navigate its way through a room full of glass figurines. Like, who do you think you're fooling, dude? A five year old could read this and know you're talking about sex. Furthermore I'm trying to decide if the shocking part is that Rutan was trying to get it on with his girlfriend at all, or if his mother's life lesson was merely not to lose his virginity in a park specifically. Either way, he's able to deflect her anger by relating what he overheard of the conversation between Knuckles and Rotor, which granted, isn't much. However, it's enough to catch Lien-Da off guard, and after thinking for a moment, she suddenly gets unnervingly sweet, saying that she believes him and sending him off with a firm "just don't do it again" to his room. Rutan catches the chill from her sudden attitude shift and leaves gratefully, and when Dimitri tries to talk to her, she brushes him off, clearly calculating her next move. Next thing we know, Julie-Su, chopping vegetables for dinner, finds herself getting a video call from Lien-Da asking to talk…

Again, though, I just have to point out that nothing we're seeing makes any sense here. Everyone is so scared of Lien-Da finding out anything important, but if she's so dangerous, then why hasn't she been arrested and incarcerated for her former crimes yet? Either she's a dangerous terrorist who should pay for her transgressions against echidnakind, or she's a reformed and upstanding member of society. You can't have it both ways, guys! And now, with the new information gleaned from her son, she's all ready to scheme and plot her way to… what, exactly? The only thing she knows as of now is that Knuckles and a friend of his met in a park at night so that the latter could make a request of the former. How does she know it's anything important at all? Remember, Rutan didn't overhear anything about spacetime breaking down, so for all Lien-Da knows, Rotor just wanted to ask Knuckles if he could borrow his hairdryer. There's nothing here to even begin to be suspicious about! This entire arc is held together with duct tape and Penders' tears, and there's so many weird plot holes that rely on us essentially just taking Penders' word for it that this person is bad, and that person is totally in character, and this other person is at all interesting. And I hate to say it, but we haven't even seen the worst yet! We've yet to see King Sonic and Queen Sally enter the picture, and once they do things only get weirder…