#bread visionary

[outtacontextlitwtc]

"contrary to what i insisted, i am not a deadbeat dad"

[vvviktor]

Im back on top of the game

Spoilers for Bread Visionary

first of all, JUSTICE FOR HUMAN ZOO AND WILL'S MUSIC VIDEO

Second of all,

Be like Steve

Thank you will for the reversal it was very funny

The catholic read was real and true (trust me)

Will should out knives on his missing fingers and become mr. knife fingers

The statue description was so fucking cursed i dont even want to recreate it with my terrible editing skill its too much

[scribbleseas]

Beyond the Walls, Chapter 2: Mother Nature

Description: It's the year 850.

You are a renowned scientist who narrowly saved the world from impending famine and malnourishment with a myriad of agricultural advancements after Wall Maria fell, surrendering acres of farmland to titans. However, your innovations are not quite enough to be a permanent solution, given that their yield rate is nowhere near ideal. Many are still starving, costs for bread and vegetables are still high, and refugee rations remain low

Convinced that the only sustainable answers can come from the natural world outside the walls, you implore Survey Corps Commander Erwin Smith to allow you to join his company’s ranks for their next expedition. His only condition? You must be trained in omni-directional mobility gear under Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, Captain Levi Ackerman, to qualify for the expedition as a soldier. Despite having no demonstrated prowess outside your trusty greenhouse, you willingly accept Erwin’s terms, desperate to prove your hypothesis. However, during your time with the Captain, you soon learn that there is more to the stoic and strong soldier that meets the eye, and instead, you have much more in common that you would have guessed. Not even you, a certified genius in the horticulture field, could predict the blossoming romance between you.

Is your commitment to saving humanity enough for you to endure extensive training under the scrutinizing Captain? Or will it be your unexpected feelings for him that ultimately distract you from your original experiment?

Content Warnings: Violence, gore, death, swearing, eventual kissing, eventual smut, human-eating titans, symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder

Author’s Note: Hi Everyone! This was sooooo overdue. That being said, though, please let me know how you feel about this one! Believe it or not, this is only my third time writing Captain Levi. I really hope he’s in character for you all. I’m probably going to try to post the next chapter of Straight Laced next, but since I started the Fall Semester at my university, I can’t give you a date estimate. Shit happens, unfortunately.

Another announcement, I know I said I was going to post a poll about my next Ciel story, but I actually the next one myself lol. But on the bright side, I know you’ll all like it.

Thank you so so much for reading and staying patient with my terrible date estimates. (I know I originally said September 3rd for this one…)

Well, as always, Happy Reading!

- Dan

“I can’t even begin to tell you how jazzed I was when Erwin said you’d be joining us,” Section Commander Hange Zoë’s grin was nothing but radiant, alight with hope. Their hand rested on your forearm amicably as you walked through the Survey Corps’ Headquarters. 

You and Hange were correspondents long before you started your first aeroponics prototype, about a decade ago. Hange was your colleague, watching your hypothesis about landless planting develop with rapt fascination. You studied together up until the moment they decided to join the Survey Corps and focus their scientific genius on understanding titans. Meanwhile, you decided to continue your studies, pursuing a certification as a medic and a focus on agronomy, the study and practice of soil and crop management. 

Even with the distance between your respective research, you kept well in touch. It was Hange’s frantic encouragement that inspired you to make your direct appeal to Erwin Smith. They referred to the Commander as a visionary before you ever had. 

Hange had met you at the main entrance and insisted that they were your tour guide for the day. At the same time, a team of cadets started to move your belongings, deaf to your protests. While most of your belongings were equipment for the greenhouse and your experiments, rather than personal items, there were still a great deal of heavy boxes that needed moving. You felt sorry for the cadets tasked with the activity— especially in this heat— but Hange seemed to think little of it, telling you to let the young kids get their energy out. 

They said it as if the two of you were approaching your fifties, rather than your thirties. 

The corner of your lips pulled upwards in an answering half-smile. “I know. I’ve missed you,” you admitted, taking in the expansive halls. The headquarters was an old regal castle in the countryside, the hallways lined with large windows that allowed the summer sun to stream in. Despite the antiquated architecture, the premises seemed to be extremely well taken care of, there was no hint of dust, nor one blade of unruly grass. In fact, it was so picturesque, that you suspected that no onlooker would think to assume it was a military headquarters and instead, assume it was a wealthy residence.

“Well, Y/n, as did I. That’s why I made sure Erwin made me your tour guide,” Hange exclaimed. “There are a few places I want to show you, some people I want you to meet…come this way!”

You walked with Hange obediently, content with following them around the base. The tour started with your private quarters (the cadets left all of your boxes on the floor next to your bed), continued to the base’s training areas, Hange’s office, your new greenhouse, and ended with the mess hall. As you walked, you shared greeting nods with soldiers who passed you around the base. Few people stopped to exchange words with you, sensing that you and Hange were in the middle of touring. Erwin likely debriefed his forces prior to your arrival, anyway. 

The mess hall was abuzz with soldiers in decently high spirits, much to your surprise. There was a monotone chatter around the room as soldiers ate their breakfast.

The Survey Corps served their meals cafeteria-style, the lines at the far side of the room long as everyone waited for their lightly salted oatmeal and a singular slice of bread. As you suspected, there wasn’t a piece of fruit or a vegetable in sight because the military insisted its men sacrificed their diets alongside their lives. While you doubted you could produce enough vegetation to give everyone a nutritional boost in such little time, some change was better than no change. The tables of soldiers you passed continued to track your movements with evident curiosity, sizing you up— wondering whether or not you were as great as your reputation imagined you were.

“Levi Squad, Miche, Moblit, this is my dear friend Y/n Y/l/n,” Hange announced proudly, stopping at a long table towards the far side of the mess hall— the furthest away from the line of hungry scouts. Populating the table were a number of men and one woman, each regarding you with varying levels of interest.

 “Y/n, this is the Levi Squad,” Hange gestured to the group of six soldiers— the Levi Squad consisted of soldiers Petra Ral, Oluo Bozado, Eld Gin, and Gunther Shultz. Miche Zacharius and Moblit Berner were also distinguished Survey Corps members; Miche was one of Hange’s fellow section commanders and Moblit was their research assistant. You were never one to enter a situation unprepared, so you took the liberty of reading through the Survey Corps’ major players. “Levi Squad: meet Y/n!”

“I’m Petra. It’s great to meet you,” Petra spoke first, quickly rising from her seat to give your hand a professional shake. “We’ve been reading about some of your work…not that we understand the technicalities of it, but…” she laughed, “for curiosity's sake, we try. We could never do what you do.”

I’m not sure I know how I do what I do, either, you wanted to admit. Your pride forced you to swallow the words down like a dry cracker. 

“The pleasure’s mine,” you responded, reciprocating the shake and the same greeting with Gunther and Eld.

“You both can sit next to me,” Petra offered, shifting to the end of the bench. Hange took the seat directly next to Petra. You took a seat between the section commander and the tall soldier you knew to be Miche. 

“Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll do what you all--” you started, cutting yourself off with a start as Miche took a long inhale, sniffing near the side of your neck. You hummed curiously, but he made no attempt to explain himself. Instead, Miche nodded to himself and turned his attention back to his breakfast. The questioning look you sent to Hange went mostly ignored. They seemed more interested in the thin bread portion on Petra’s plate, suggesting Miche’s sniffing habit was an idiosyncrasy of his that was to be expected. 

Oluo shook his head, unimpressed with your comment. He took a long drink out of a teacup, making no effort to shake your hand and introduce himself properly. “I, for one, have no idea why the Commander thinks you can become a soldier in only two months or less. You’ll be titan chow mere minutes after we—“

“That won’t happen because she’ll be riding with us,” Petra interjected pointedly before turning her attention back to you, her smile apologetic. “Ignore him. He thinks he’s the Captain,” she rolled her amber eyes, cuing you into her joke. 

“Speaking of Levi… where is he?” Hange asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject from your potential demise to the whereabouts of the absent Captain. Their ponderous expression suggested that Levi was rarely late to anything. From what little information you were about to glean about him— his superhuman battle prowess, neatly groomed appearance, and stern expression to match — you imagined that the man was also quite punctual. 

“Running late from his tea pick up,” Gunther answered, causing the group to share identical looks of worry and frustration. (Save for Oluo, he merely tutted and shook his head dismissively.)

“You know what that means,” Eld said, his thin lips pulling into a grim expression. 

Sensing your confusion, Hange started to answer. “It means they don’t have his— oh no,” Hange fell silent at the sight of the Captain quickly making his way towards the table. Despite being a handful of inches shorter than most of the soldiers around him, all standing scouts parted out of his way, eyes diverting from his stoic gaze. The way they scurried out of the way reminded you of anxious prey.

“We should tread carefully, you guys,” Petra suggested, “he’s empty handed.” She sent a warning look towards Oluo, who merely shook his head in response, his hazel eyes rolling. They acted like a married couple— an intimacy that only came from fighting at one another’s sides for years. It was strangely heartwarming that they were able to stay with one another for so long.    

“Morning, Levi!” Hange cheered, standing to greet him properly. They clapped him on the back, only to remove their hand in response to his continued silence and pointed glare. “Guess who’s sitting with us today?” they asked rhetorically, “Doctor Y/l/n! She just came this morning.”

You rose from your seat, unsure of how to proceed. Levi didn’t seem particularly interested in introducing himself to you. Instead, he regarded you, likely hypothesizing whether or not you could handle two months of intensive training under him and come out of it with maneuvering reliable enough to save your life. He was calculating any semblance of a chance you had at staying alive and carrying out your research. 

“You can call me Y/n,” you decided, extending your hand to him with a tentative smile. Levi made no attempt to return the expression, much less take you. Instead, he regarded the remnants of dirt on your palm, left behind after you took a soil sample from the front of the base upon your arrival— and hesitated. None of the soldiers seemed to mind, given that it was such a minimal shadow left from the soil. 

In fact, you doubted they noticed at all. 

You made a quick attempt to run your palm over your light green skirts, the linen material light enough for you to remain cool in the hot summer. You chuckled apologetically, “I took a sample from your soil here. To see if it needs any additional nutrients before I use it for my vertical trestles,” you explained, doubting he would understand what you were referring to. Your vertical trestles were long stands with dozens of small engravings to house plants. The beauty of your aeroponics system was that it could grow plants without needing a constant supply of water. All they needed was nutrient-dense soil, sprays of (nutrient-dense, of course) water every few days, and consistent sunlight. 

“It’s fine,” the Captain replied, his grave tone insinuating that it was anything but. Still, his calloused hand wrapped around yours, his palm surprisingly cold. His grip was firm and sure. “Given your line of work, you’re bound to drag filth around with you, Mother Nature.”

The derisive nickname caused your back to stiffen as your hand fell back to your side. You frowned, unsure of whether or not he was teasing you with it. But there was no sign of mockery in his face— only mild frustration and inconvenience. 

“Training is at noon. Don’t keep me waiting,” Levi ordered, turning swiftly on the heel of his boot to make his leave. He ignored Petra’s dismayed calls, asking where he was going and why he was skipping the meal. 

Hange noticed your expression as you reclaimed your seat. “It’s nothing personal. He’s always that grumpy.”

“Especially after that tea store under-watered the flowers again. The ones they need to make his black tea,” Petra sighed. You cringed, thinking about the type of lunacy that would drive someone to over-water camellia sinensis twice. 

“And I need to train with him later?” You asked, now mildly concerned for your well-being along with that plant. Commander Erwin said Levi was their best soldier, Humanity’s Strongest. But he didn’t specify whether or not Levi was their best teacher. Was there truly no one else to take on that burden? Someone nicer?

“You might think we’d have someone a bit more…patient, but no,” Petra said as if she read your mind. “All of us,” she nodded to the rest of the group with her chin, her red hair bobbing at the gesture, “need to be focused on Eren while Hange works with him. The other section commanders have to prepare our new cadets. That leaves, well, the Captain, as the most qualified to show you the ropes,” the more Petra explained Erwin’s decision, the tighter the knot in your stomach felt. All of Levi’s elite squad had to make sure Eren’s titan didn’t go berserk and ravage the military branch while their leader helped you, a full-time scientist, master notoriously complex equipment. 

“But you can do it!” Hange cheered. “If anyone I know can become a member of the scouts in exactly six weeks, it’s you!”

It was true. If Levi was Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, and the Eren Yeager kid was Humanity’s Last Hope, you were one of Humanity’s only obstacles standing between it and famine, which was just as dire. There was no reason to defeat the titans if most of the population was going to be malnourished and on the brink of starvation-caused extinction. Not to mention, it was too ironic: the titans are defeated only for their former prey to go extinct due to lack of food. 

You couldn’t watch that happen when you were so sure it was preventable. 

. . .

You had a doctorate in agronomy, a degree in horticulture, and a certification in medical care. And even after those years of hard schooling, long essays, and seemingly endless research projects, you still managed to suffer the worst of equipment malfunctions at the worst possible timing. 

But to be fair, who invented this gear?

The idea of omni-directional mobility gear was to make humans as swiftly airborne as possible, giving them the ability to evade a titan’s jaws and provide lethal proximity to their vulnerable napes in milliseconds. However, human facilities were much more delicate than a titan’s— it didn’t take a doctor like you to understand that. To endure high-speed movement and mid-air contortion, the stress would need to be evenly distributed across the body at all times. That was why limp leather straps were dangling from various parts of your legs and torso while you desperately tried to buckle them in their rightful places. 

Hange demonstrated the process for you about three times before they left to work with the titan shifter, swearing that you would at least survive the first session with Levi. Now you were standing alone, using one of the many benches to the slide of the big green field where new scouts stretched with their section commanders, as leverage while you tried to buckle the gas exhaust around your lower back.

Several starstruck scouts attempted to ask you if you needed a hand, but your pride refused. You were an academic. You were having issues with…leather straps. Not only that, you couldn’t, in good conscience, let teenagers help you buckle your uniform. 

“Do you honestly think your equipment is going to hold you up like that, Mother Nature?” The Captain’s harsh voice asked, causing you to sheepishly turn to look at him, your cheeks reddening. Thankfully, they were already rather flushed from the heat. 

“I don’t understand how you all put this on so quickly,” you explained, gesturing to the pieces of uniform that you managed to construct. “It’s like a puzzle…” you mumbled before your face lit up with relief. 

“Oh--- there it is.” The buckle slipped through one of the adjustment holes, letting you pull the equipment around your abdomen snuggly. While you weren’t quite sure if this was the proper adjustment, you couldn’t help but nurse your satisfaction while you could. The compressed gas from the exhaust powered the wiring mechanism that worked like a grappling hook: the anchors on the edges of the wires were supposed to dig into any possible service and maintain your weight.

“The section commander was supposed to show you,” Captain Levi said.

“They had to run. Time-sensitive experiment with Eren. Something about sleep deprivation’s impact on titan shifting… It’s really fine, I know how important it is to be meticulous with your experiments’ timing. Maintaining consistent variables and all…” you were rambling. You cringed at yourself— your lack of social competence. But in all fairness, you spent most of your formative years in a laboratory, or your nose buried so deep within the pages of a book, that you could distinguish your textbooks from scent alone. Nothing— out of your vast libraries of literary knowledge— covered how to speak to a soldier of unimaginable strength (and with impossibly azure eyes to match.) It was no wonder the hottest part of a flame was its innermost blue. 

“Sounds like Hange,” Levi said noncommittally, but he didn’t seem angry. That told you he was more than accustomed to the scientist’s effervescent (and extremely capricious) nature. It suggested he expected it, at this point. Anyone close to Hange knew to expect some turbulence, at some point. You were relieved Hange managed to find someone in the Survey Corps to grow close to. They deserved it, and it seemed Levi could use Hange’s enigmatic scheming in his life. 

“Can you please just…” you looked at the equipment meaningfully. You managed to complete all of the straps that were a bit too personal to ask of him, but there were a few that ran behind your back and attached to said buckles that you couldn’t figure out how to stabilize without a mirror.

“I’m required to double check your equipment -- whether or not you proved incompetent with putting it on. You’re still a newbie, Plant Lady,” Levi said, already fixing the strap that fastened your gas exhaust-- the one you just fixed!

You huffed, dismayed by both your apparent failure and the new nickname. “I was growing attached to Mother Nature,” you smarted. 

“Just give me your right gearbox, and we might just manage to start training on time,” Levi ignored your quip. 

. . .

You were a puppet suspended in mid-air, only you weren’t lifeless, and somewhat in control of your facilities.

Every muscle in your body pleaded for help as you remained motionless, yet suspended in the air. Apparently, this was the first physical test the military put its cadets through. If you couldn’t strike a near-natural balance with the omni-directional mobility gear, then you were cut— sent to the fields to help with the harvest. Apparently, it would work the same for you. If you couldn’t exhibit the necessary physical prowess on your first day, what was the sense in the Survey Corps investing its time and resources into you?

You could feel sweat rolling down your neck, tracing an uncomfortable line down your back as you trembled with effort. You weren’t even wearing the full equipment. While Levi initially showed you how to put the whole ensemble together, you didn’t need all of it for your first day of training. All you currently were wearing was the various leather straps around your legs and feet, and the main belt around your waist that would have connected your gas exhaust and both gearboxes. According to your reading, those gearboxes held extra blades and gas canisters. Attached to those gearboxes were wooden handles that connected to the blades and anchors soldiers plunged into structures in order to move.

Your arms wanted to reach out and grab something, anything, to hold onto, but there was nothing in proximity. There were only two long bars that supported you on either side as if you were a swing. 

You tried to keep your gaze ahead of you, knowing that looking at the distance between your boot soles and the grass was too far for your liking. In fact, the thought of your elevation caused you to shudder, causing your body to sway. You weren’t proud of it, but you couldn’t suppress your worried shriek as your gaze slipped unintentionally downwards.

“Easy there. The more you panic, the less control you have. Put the most power into your core so your back straightens,” Levi watched you, observing your quivering body— in part from the physical strain that came with holding your back straight and core strong, but equally, your fear.

“Like…this?” You managed through gritted teeth. You blinked rapidly to try to keep the drops of sweat that cascaded from your hairline and past your eyebrows away from your eyes. “What if I-I….can’t do this any longer?” you asked, trying to come up with an estimate of how long you were balancing. Seven minutes? Eight minutes? The Idle Suspension Exercise was a minimum of ten straight minutes of steady balancing, excluding any time you spent thrashing. 

“Oh, you can just stop and---” the female scout to your side started to answer, only for the Captain to silence her with a single glance. Levi tasked her with turning the lever that hoisted you up and back down. “Nevermind,” she chuckled awkwardly, looking down at her muddy uniform boots. 

“Why did you tell Erwin you’d master this gear in two months when you knew you had basic stamina issues?” He asked flatly. There was a dichotomy between the Captain's blunt way of speaking and the way he regarded you closely-- curious to see if you could hold yourself up for a short while longer, or if you’d collapse. The tersely restrained energy in his physique suggested he was ready to spring into action if he so much as suspected the latter was about to occur. “Seems irresponsible, for a doctor.”

“I don’t have-- basic-- stamina--- issues!” You managed through labored breaths. He was essentially superhuman. He had no right to insinuate you had basic stamina issues when he’s had somewhere near a decade and a half to develop his skills in the Survey Corps. Compared to your single day, or half hour, of training rather. “And I’m not irresponsible!”

“I’ve seen first-day cadets perform better,” Levi’s arms crossed in front of his chest, his body relaxing. “Are you sure you gave this decision all of the thought it required, Mother Nature?”

“What?” Your head tilted indignantly, your eyes widening to immediately question the Captain’s words. Was he making fun of you? Questioning your sense of rational thinking? 

If you weren’t previously motivated to finish the exercise before, now you were deadset.

“Not everyone has what it takes to be a soldier,” Levi explained, unwithering against your enraged scowl.

“Some people are just more suited tending to flowers in a greenhouse than a battlefield. But I would say your attempt is…commendable,” he said. “Start letting her down, Sam,” Levi instructed the redheaded scout.

Your blood boiled, and it was from more than just the sun beating down on you. 

“Don’t you dare, Sam!” You demanded with an intensity you normally reserved for those goading you like the Captain, but you couldn’t control your tone during such immense physical and emotional stress. “I will finish this!” Now you had to. 

Sam’s eyebrows drew together as she hummed uncertainty, trying to decide whether she should obey the Captain when you were so clearly invested in beating the challenge. Her hand sat on the lever’s handle, unmoving. So she was going to listen to you. 

She sent a resolute nod to you. 

You’d dealt with numerous characters like Levi Ackerman. Stingy and sexist government officials and nobles who doubted your projects could produce anything of real scientific value…soldiers who didn’t want their wounds stitched up by someone they assumed was incompetent, based on the way you looked. Infuriated nobles who would threaten your life for making produce and food items more accessible when they’d been making fortunes by price gouging them. 

“Let me finish this, Captain,” you snapped, “I can do it!” 

“You already did,” Levi responded, taking a quick look at his watch. “You just passed twelve minutes. Let her down, now.” 

Before you could process what was happening, Sam obeyed, turning the lever around to set you back down on the ground. The second the bottoms of your boots reached the ground, your legs buckled, threatening to fully give into your weight. If you didn’t reach for the stand to your side, you probably would’ve fallen to the ground.

“You…did that…on purpose…didn’t you…” you panted to catch your breath once again, surprised you could string a coherent sentence together. You used the back of your hand to wipe sweat from your hairline and the rest of your face. You cringed at the pool of sweat that transferred from your skin, still hesitant to believe that you truly managed to go over the minimum requirement.

Because of Levi’s strategically-placed hostility. 

“Maybe,” Levi replied, something akin to reluctant respect on his face. “You’re dismissed for the day. “Meet me back here, same time tomorrow.”

“You’ll tell Commander Erwin I passed?” you asked hopefully, looking for your due praise--- even though it was obvious Levi wasn’t the type to commend his soldiers for a job well done. 

“It’s my responsibility to update the Commander as I see fit, Mother Nature.”

. . . 

“Do you have black tea in stock?” You asked the young girl working the counter at the bakery closest to the Survey Corps’ Headquarters. Even if it was the closest, it was still quite a ways on horseback-- about a half hour back into town. 

The girl blushed. “Um, no. We don’t. Our…newest hire…under-watered the plant,” she explained tentatively, her smile sheepish enough to suggest that she was the mentioned culprit. 

“It happens. Do you still have the plant?” you asked. 

“Yes, we do…?” she replied, unsure as to why you were asking for it. Her smile seemed a bit terse, irritated that you were looking for a plant that they were likely about to compost. 

“Can I buy it?” While over-watering typically caused a plant to wilt and rot, effectively killing it. However, under-watering was fixable in most cases. Especially if it was the summer sun--- while camelia flowers tended to prefer sunnier spots, they also required ample water to keep them nourished. It wasn’t unheard of for an amateur to be scared of overwatering the flowers.

“I think it’s about to die, so you can’t really use it for tea or anything,” she warned, expecting you to change your mind.

“Just name your price,” you smiled patiently, but you were sure it didn’t reach your eyes because of your impatience. But in a matter of mere minutes, you were walking to the public stable where you left your horse, Juniper, and you were on your way back to Headquarters to start your first official project as an Honorary Scout.

. . .

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[natlacentral]

DANIEL DAE KIM: BEACON OF FIRE

Daniel Dae Kim, a paragon of versatility in the entertainment industry, continues to enchant audiences with his rich and compelling character portrayals. Esteemed for his significant roles in landmark television series such as Lost and Hawaii Five-0, Kim has also made waves with his reflective insights on the finale of the Good Doctor, where he served not only as an actor but as an executive producer. As speculation mounts about his character's return in the show's concluding season, Kim's artistic reach extends further with his riveting performance as fire lord Ozai in the much-anticipated live-action adaptation of Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender. In addition to his work on screen, Daniel Dae Kim's return to Broadway in the production of Yellow Face by David Henry Hwang is a venture into the comedic genre, offering a fresh perspective on relevant cultural themes with a timeless appeal. 

In the heart of Hollywood's ever-changing landscape, Daniel Dae Kim stands out not just as an actor and producer but as a visionary leader dedicated to reshaping the narrative around Asian American stories and beyond. Founding 3AD, a production company that underscores his commitment to amplifying diverse narratives within the industry, Kim ignited a movement towards inclusivity and representation, drawing inspiration from the overlooked and undervalued voices at the proverbial high school party of life. His mission, grounded in the belief that entertainment should both captivate and challenge, has already borne fruit with successes like the Good Doctor. Yet, Kim emphasizes, 3AD's scope transcends any single community, aiming instead to spotlight a mosaic of untold stories, thereby enriching our collective cultural tapestry.

Kim's commitment to portraying multifaceted characters that challenge stercotypes and his explorations beyond acting into producing reflect a continuous pursuit of artistic growth and contribution to the cultural dialogue. Beyond his on-sereen prowess, Kim's advocacy for greater diversity and inclusion in Hollywood has made him a pivotal figure in the push for a more equitable entertainment landscape.

With a career that spans critical acclaim and a fervent dedication to cultural change, Daniel Dac Kim remains a beacon of inspiration and a force for progress in the ever-evolving world of entertainment. Read on and get inspired by this slice of Daniel Dae Kim's thoughts on his life as a father, an actor, a producer, and more.

How's the Sunrise House Event at Sundance? How did it go?

They were really fantastic. We had some really informative panels with some industry leaders from every sector. We had a great fireside chat with Steve Yeun. And we had another one with Lucy Liu and that seemed good. 

The Fireside Chats seemed to go really well. The feedback was really good. We threw some banging parties. And so you know, it was a little bit of substance and a little bit of fun.

 

And it's really great and inspiring that you guys are doing this, because I'm seeing a lot more mainstream visibility, especially in Sundance as well for AAPI.

Yes. 

It's really cool. 

What's funny is that AAPI filmmakers have been on it for a while at Sundance, they just have never had a home, you know, somewhere where they can be celebrated and their achievements can be spotlighted. And also, I think there's just a broader movement toward multiculturalism. And that's an emphasis of our house as well. It's not just for the AAPI community, we took specific efforts to do outreach to other communities of color and I think that's really important.

 

That's amazing. Especially how you guys are extending your arms to the communities, building and growing it.

That's what it's about, that's what it's about. We had a dinner one night where we invited all the other major communities of color, and we broke bread together, we talked and hopefully, that's just the beginning of broader initiatives among our houses. 

How did you approach the complex character of Fire Lord Ozai?

As a dad. You know, I have two kids and just thinking about the ways that he's actually in his own way trying to guide his children to their best future is what I kind of keyed into. We may make mistakes as fathers, some intentional, some unintentional, but it doesn't mean... I don't think Ozai doesn't love his children. I think he does, but his love comes out in ways very different from the way I express it.

 

The intention is there. It's just expressed in its own ways.

Yes. And, they can be damaging. They are damaging- physically, in the case of Zuko, but we damage our children without knowing it. We've been damaged by our parents without them knowing it. It's part of the cycle of life and that's kind of how I found Ozai's humanity.

Now, speaking of Zuko and Iroh, and Ozai's family dynamics. How were you all able to explore this complex family relationship on screen?

One of the ways that we did it was to just get to know one another. I've known Paul Sun-Hyung Lee for a while, and I'm a big fan of his work. And so there was a natural bond between us right from the start, and I really enjoyed seeing Lizzie's work as Azula, and watching Dallas' work as Zuko was fantastic, and just seeing what they brought to the table allowed me to kind of see who my children were. Because we were coming together as actors, and we were seeing what each actor brought to the table. But I was able to use that to inform my relationship with the children. What are they good at? What do they need help with? Where do we want to guide their future? Where do I want to guide their strengths and their weaknesses? So things like that, and a little off-camera bonding was really important.

You played pivotal roles that defied stereotypes. How important is it for you to portray complex characters that go beyond just one archetype?

It's just interesting as an actor, you know. I never want to be doing one thing forever, I've been in situations where I played a character for six years, seven years, but, in the case of Lost, I'm so grateful that there was so much growth in that character. So it never became boring. But if I'm lucky enough to have the opportunity to work a lot, I want to use those opportunities to explore things I'm interested in as an artist. And part of that is just kind of finding a variety of kinds of people to play with.

And you've produced, you've acted, and you've explored all these other avenues in terms of creating art. What other things do you want to explore in the near future, aside from those realms?

Producing has been really interesting, the process of creation of television and film and theater has been something that has intrigued me for a while. Yes, I think, to have a holistic view of how one makes entertainment and how it affects us as a society and vice versa, I think it's a really interesting question. How entertainment reflects the cultures of our time and at the same time, pushes it in one direction or another.

What's the most valuable piece of advice you received from someone either in the industry or out of the industry that you always still carry with you?

That there's no room in show business for you, you have to make room. I keep that in mind because it encourages me to think that nothing is a given, nothing should be taken for granted and anything that I'm looking to do will probably require work because no one is asking me to do it.

What's the one thing people will  remember you after the credits roll? What do you want to be remembered as?

First and foremost, a good actor, because that's my life's passion, and I would say, second of all, someone who tried to use his platform to bring us together as a society.

What kind of book will Daniel Dae Kim be?

Well, I will tell you that I'm working on a project right now based on a book by Chang-Rae Lee, his first major novel - Native Speaker that came out in the 80s. And I have a real connection to that novel, because Chang-Rae and I are of the same generation as Korean Americans, and a lot of the issues he wrestles with in that book are issues that I've wrestled with my whole life. It's a beautifully written book. His prose is so eloquent and poetic. And it was the first time I'd ever read a book that kind of felt like he was talking to me.

[titiny]

Some Baldur's Gate residents talk about Lord Enver Gortash

P1 : (you’ll not find any fearmongering here. We're an honest publication.)

Who will save us from certain destruction?

Lord Gortash!

And how will we step into his new and brilliant dawn?

Gortash will show us the way!

P2 :

To think, for decades, all we needed to build the Steel Watch has been sitting right there.

Gortash is a visionary, sure enough. But his vision has cost a pretty penny.

We have Steel Watchers promenading the street and you're worried about the price of bread?

[ruknowhere]

The Street

Stephen Dobyns

Across the street, the carpenter carries a golden

board across one shoulder, much as he bears the burdens

of his life. Dressed in white, his only weakness is

temptation. Now he builds another wall to screen him.

The little girl pursues her bad red ball, hits it once

with her blue racket, hits it once again. She must

teach it the rules balls must follow and it turns her

quite wild to see how it leers at her, then winks.

The oriental couple wants always to dance like this:

swirling across a crowded street, while he grips

her waist and che slides to one knee and music rises

from cobblestones--some days Ravel, some days Bizet.

The departing postulant is singing to herself. She

has seen the world's salvation asleep in a cradle,

hanging in a tree. The girl's song makes

the sunlight, makes the breeze that rocks the cradle.

The baker's had half a thought. Now he stands like a pillar

awaiting another. He sees white flour falling like snow,

covering people who first try to walk, then crawl,

then become rounded shapes: so many loaves of bread.

The baby carried off by his heartless mother is very old and

for years has starred in silent films. He tries to explain

he was accidentally exchanged for a baby on a bus, but he can

find no words as once more he is borne home to his awful bath.

First the visionary workman conjures a great hall, then

he puts himself on the stage, explaining, explaining:

where the sun goes at night, where flies go in winter, while

attentive crowds of dogs and cats listen in quiet heaps.

Unaware of one another, these nine people circle around

each other on a narrow city street. Each concentrates

so intently on the few steps before him, that not one

can see his neighbor turning in exactly different,

yet exactly similar circles around them: identical lives

begun alone, spent alone, ending alone--as separate

as points of light in a night sky, as separate as stars

and all that immense black space between them.

[hiswordsarekisses]

“. . .I must know Him not as in the visionary dreams of Him, but as the Word reveals Him.

I must know His natures, divine and human.

I must know His offices (Prophet, Priest and King)—His attributes—His works—His shame—His glory.

I must meditate upon Him until I “comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge.”

It will be an affectionate knowledge of Him; indeed, if I know Him at all, I must love Him.

An ounce of heart knowledge is worth a ton of head learning.

Our knowledge of Him will be a satisfying knowledge. When I know my Savior, my mind will be full to the brim — I will feel that I have that which my spirit longs for.

This is the bread that satisfies all hunger.

At the same time it will be an exciting knowledge; the more I know of my Beloved, the more I will want to know.

The higher I climb, the loftier will be the summits that invite my eager footsteps.

I shall want more as I get more. Like the miser’s treasure, my gold will make me covet more.

To conclude, this knowledge of Christ Jesus will be a most happy one; in fact, so elevating that sometimes it will completely lift me above all trials and doubts and sorrows; and it will, while I enjoy it, make me something more than “Man . . . born of a woman . . . few of days and full of trouble,” for it will throw about me the immortality of the ever-living Savior and cover me with the golden cloak of His eternal joy.

Come, my soul, sit at Jesus’ feet, and learn of Him all this day.”

~ Charles Spurgeon

I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. Philippians 3:8

[palin-tropos]

its time once more for patho-mazovianism 

mazov as the haruspex. the knower of the Lines. the one who sees the inner structure of the world, who understands it to be deeply material. the body is the earth is the body. to be human is to be of the natural world. to be sure, he will spill rivers of blood, but the brutality is kind—to heal, not kill, the body

nilsen as the bachelor. the visionary. the utopian. the one who challenges inevitability and nature. gravity? the heat death of the universe? these are all evils for mankind to overcome. man needs dreams more than he needs bread, but still, he needs the bread. but any corrupt dying structure can and should be destroyed to preserve hope

rodionov as the changeling. beset by visions. whose side are you even on? to see the inevitability and embrace it as miraculous. one foot on either side. harbinger? don’t mind if I do. perhaps catching a glimpse of the world beyond this world, understanding reality to simply be a game played upon carved polyhedrons and paper

[finitevariety]

Good thing experience this week: went for a swim in a lake, met a very special puppy, discovered & ate Kayseri Yağlaması (basically like a bread lasagne!!!!)

ok I got so distracted by the prospect of a bread lasagne (oh my goddd. it's the one thing lasagne is missing!! visionary! I googled it and got stuck in a brief rabbit hole) that I nearly forgot to comment on the rest, but swimming in a lake is unparalleled! Puppies are so great also - I love when they're tiny enough that their tail almost wags them when they get super excited.

[talkingbl]

Bad Buddy Revisited

I recently did a pseudo rewatch of Bad Buddy and I have....thoughts

1. First, from like Episode 3 onward, Nanon was in his bag in those sad scenes. The way he portrayed Pran breaking down in Episode 5 at the thought that Pat was toying with him was some of the best acting I've seen in a BL to this day.

2. Next, the pacing on was absolutely terrible. Why did it take 5 episodes for a kiss in a story about 2 adults with a vaguely romantic history? Why did it take even longer than that for a confession of feelings? Why was there less footage of the actual relationship than the build up and bullshit? Like, by episode 3 we completely understood the initial character dynamic, and yet the writers dragged that shit out for damn near the whole season. It was just annoying after awhile.

3. The Episode 5 kiss scene still holds up after the surge of spicy BLs because of the acting behind it.

4. I remember feeling like this one felt very bro-ey/platonic in its romance and I stand by that. But, the skinship in some scenes was very tasteful and romantic (e.g., locking hands behind Pa's back).

5. If they don't change it soon, sound effects will be the downfall of GMMTV BLs. It was so misplaced and cringe in this one I couldn't bear it (even more than other GMMTV BLs). I remember feeling this way during airing but it's even more jarring 1.5 years out after getting stuff like Semantic Error, Blueming, and Jack O'Frost. I know those are all non-Thai BLs, but I think a lot of studios in Thailand are starting to show a shift toward that style as well. Sadly, as Dangerous Romance is showing, GMMTV is still doing the tired sound effects, and terrible score.

6. The original song for Bad Buddy, แค่เพื่อนมั้ง (or "Just Friend?") is one of the best tracks to ever come out of a GMMTV BL. Probably second to none at this point.

7. GMMTV has improved drastically with storyline coherence for BLs. Comparing this one to SIMM, My School President, and Moonlight Chicken, and shows a clear trend of their shows getting progressively more plot-oriented. Don't get me wrong, there were some that followed a storyline to a logical conclusion before (and during) Bad Buddy (such as Not Me), but it wasn't as consistent as I think it's becoming.

8. Lastly, my big takeaway is that time is a motherfucker. I remember when Bad Buddy first came out and the stans could not shut the fuck up about how it was the best thing since sliced bread and claimed that Not Me was significantly worse. Well, they were wrong and some are finally admitting it 1.5 years later. Not Me was always very visionary, original, and entertaining throughout. Bad Buddy was cute for what it was (and definitely had some impact--don't get me wrong), but to claim that its story was "objectively" superior to a political thriller with a clear message, strong casting, and gorgeous mise en scene, is wild to me. It's one thing to like BBS, it's quite another to lie.

[outtacontextlitwtc]

its like spicy food or you know, bdsm!

-Will Wood, Bread Visionary, 48:36

.

[dove-does-tarot]

Hi Dove!

First off, why on Earth was I not already following this blog of yours??

Second, I would love to have a reading done! Would you do for me a Harvest Spread with the Wild Unknown Animal Deck? That would be wonderful ^w^

Thank you, and Blessed Lughnasadh!

To be fair, I don't really publicize that I had this side blog before ^v^;

And no problemo! One Harvest Spread coming right up alongside some fresh bread!

Reap; what is coming with you from this season?

Dragon

Short version; seeing one's most true self, balancing the ego.

"When dragon energy is awakened, we are courageous, visionary. It is as if you are travelling with a great friend inside of yourself. Seeing beauty everywhere. Stirring the embers of intelligence within you."

2. Tresh; what can you shake out?

Golden Egg

Short version; message at the centre of the heart, the unstruck sound.

"Within the Golden Egg lives a precious sound. Deep within it is a message. It cannot be heard or discerned until you retreat from the noise of modern-day life. Escape rushing, pushing or grasping."

3. Winnow; what can you discard?

Deer

Short version; loving, intuitive, graceful, the mother

Okay, so I'm kinda confused by this one, but when dealing with others you may be too gentle or compassionate. But Deer also relates to children; do what you will with that information.

4. Collect; what can you put into action?

Bear (reversed)

Short version; waking from a spiritual slumber, beginning anew

When reversed, the Bear may feel lethargic, heavy, and withdraw from others. To bring into balance, movement is key; you must move forward. Once this is met, inner strengths will emerge, much like a bear out of hibernation.

5. Store; the lessons you should keep.

Frog

Short version; clearing, cleansing, healing

"Frogs tend to become overworked and undernourished, so it's vital that such sensitive creatures practice self-care. This card is a reminder that water helps us cleanse, forgive, and release. Frogs aren't meant to carry a heavy load."

6. Card on the bottom of the deck; where your journey will lead you

Butterfly

Short version; undergoing great change and transformation

"This change may involve relationships, but solid friends and activities will support you."

In balance; cheerful, graceful

Out of balance; fragile, frustrated

To balance, practice daily routines

[edwardastormwrites]

A Distance From The Sea

A Distance From The Sea To Ernest Brace

"And when the seven thunders had uttered their voices, I was about to write: and I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Seal up those things which the seven thunders uttered, and write them not." —REVELATIONS, x, 4.

That raft we rigged up, under the water, Was just the item: when he walked, With his robes blowing, dark against the sky, It was as though the unsubstantial waves held up His slender and inviolate feet. The gulls flew over, Dropping, crying alone; thin ragged lengths of cloud Drifted in bars across the sun. There on the shore The crowd's response was instantaneous. He Handled it well, I thought—the gait, the tilt of the head, just right. Long streaks of light were blinding on the waves. And then we knew our work well worth the time: The days of sawing, fitting, all those nails, The tiresome rehearsals, considerations of execution. But if you want a miracle, you have to work for it, Lay your plans carefully and keep one jump Ahead of the crowd. To report a miracle Is a pleasure unalloyed; but staging one requires Tact, imagination, a special knack for the job Not everyone possesses. A miracle, in fact, means work. —And now there are those who have come saying That miracles were not what we were after. But what else Is there? What other hope does life hold out But the miraculous, the skilled and patient Execution, the teamwork, all the pain and worry every miracle involves?

Visionaries tossing in their beds, haunted and racked By questions of Messiahship and eschatology, Are like the mist rising at nightfall, and come, Perhaps to even less. Grave supernaturalists, devoted worshippers Experience the ecstasy (such as it is), but not Our ecstasy. It was our making. Yet sometimes When the torrent of that time Comes pouring back, I wonder at our courage And our enterprise. It was as though the world Had been one darkening, abandoned hall Where rows of unlit candles stood; and we Not out of love, so much, or hope, or even worship, but Out of the fear of death, came with our lights And watched the candles, one by one, take fire, flames Against the long night of our fear. We thought That we could never die. Now I am less convinced. —The traveller on the plain makes out the mountains At a distance; then he loses sight. His way Winds through the valleys; then, at a sudden turning of a path, The peaks stand nakedly before him: they are something else Than what he saw below. I think now of the raft (For me, somehow, the summit of the whole experience) And all the expectations of that day, but also of the cave We stocked with bread, the secret meetings In the hills, the fake assassins hired for the last pursuit, The careful staging of the cures, the bribed officials, The angels' garments, tailored faultlessly, The medicines administered behind the stone, That ultimate cloud, so perfect, and so opportune. Who managed all that blood I never knew.

The days get longer. It was a long time ago. And I have come to that point in the turning of the path Where peaks are infinite—horn-shaped and scaly, choked with thorns.

But even here, I know our work was worth the cost. What we have brought to pass, no one can take away. Life offers up no miracles, unfortunately, and needs assistance. Nothing will be the same as once it was, I tell myself.—It's dark here on the peak, and keeps on getting darker. It seems I am experiencing a kind of ecstasy. Was it sunlight on the waves that day? The night comes down. And now the water seems remote, unreal, and perhaps it is.

[awak3andal1v3]

The IK940 was Cyberlife's first endeavor into the music industry. A highly specialized model, it was intended to be the perfect vocalist; able to sing any song, in virtually every style, all while sounding as human as possible. This model's voice bank was it's bread and butter; versatile, crystal clear, highly customizable, and complete with realistic breath sounds. To give users further control over the IK940's sound, a companion app was released alongside the android. Using any computer or holopad, users would be able to fine tune its voice in ways not possible through verbal command.

But a stellar voice alone wouldn't justify an android body. Thus, the IK940 was equiped to perform as well. The preprogrammed personality was inclusive and highly interactive— charismatic and responsive to social cues that most other models missed. It could interpret and project emotions to appear more authentic. Combined with several programs geared towards listening and learning new songs, CyberLife's first vocalist was heralded as the most advanced at the time.

Despite all of this bleeding-edge technology, the model faced quite a bit of backlash upon release. People weren't ready for a world where androids made music, and the more paranoid customers feared CyberLife was trying to eliminate humans from the creative process. However, one man, by the name of Nathaniel Schneider, showed the world what was possible. With his android, designated "Cole," he produced sensational hit after hit with the IK940's vocals center stage. As he climbed the charts, sales skyrocketed, and he was later heralded as a pioneer and visionary in Android based music. Sadly, his career was cut short by suicide. His android had called emergency services upon discovering the body, but was nowhere to be seen when the authorities came to examine the scene. It was never seen again.

For all of its power and capabilities, the IK940 suffered a widespread malfunction later identified as deviancy. As a result, sales plummeted, and the model was discontinued shortly after Kamski retired.

[psalm22-6]

Source: the Santa Cruz Sentinel, 17 November 1989

WHERE were you in 1822? Not Paris I hope. Talk about inconveniences; pastry prices were sky high and you couldn't turn a corner without fear of running into ranting anarchists or soldiers' bayonets. [where do I begin....] Now, with the advent of hightech stage wizardry, France's turbulent in-between-revolutionary era can be taken in much more comfortably. With some effort, one can secure a seat at the Curran Theatre in San Francisco, (8 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 3 p.m. matinees Saturdays and Sundays), and see "Les Miserables," the blockbuster musical hit based on Victor Hugo's epic novel.

Who would have ever guessed that Hugo's 1200 page tale of vallantry [sic], combat, love, hate, and suffering would wind up a hit musical? Alain Boublil (author) and Claude-Michel Schonberg (composer), that's who. There's no denying that the story of "Les Miserables" has all the makings of grand theatre, but its long-windedness makes it no breeze for stage adaptation; kind of like setting the Bible.

Boulil and Schonberg scaled the work down to fit into 3VJ hours running time, and though various omissions and truncations might rattle purists, the musical stands on its own, matching at least the novel's grandeur. Directors and adapters John Caird and Travor [sic] Nunn put theatrical means to exhaustive and imaginative ends in this multi-tiered spectacle. 

In terms of the grand sweep and nuances also, production values are on target. The novel's ideologies are tucked smoothly into context and character, their themes developed skillfully within the confines of the musical's somewhat synoptic form. 

Surprisingly, the show's most oft used and effective technology is dirt simple. With a large rotating disc planted midstage, time and Paris' dank back streets whisk by seamlessly. The highlighted hide n' seek saga between protagonist Jean Valjean and his nemesis Inspector Javert is just one strata of Hugo's bigger-than-life story that make the rounds. Other plots and subplots unwind upon the lazy-susan treadmill, eclipsing each other from scene to scene as if in planetary orbits. 

Though the story is broken down to essentials, it remains far more engrossing and elaborate than the greater bulk of Broadway fare. Jean Valjean has just served 20 years on the chain gang for stealing a loaf of bread, and his return to the free world is painstakingly encumbered by his inmate markings, (evinced by a yellow ID card). After thwarted attempts at making a straight-laced go of it, he assumes a new identity and destroys his card. He then pops up in scene two as mayor of the town and a successful businessman, but alas, Javert is hot on the trail, and before long he is forced to give up his respected station. The chase snakes through city and countryside, touching on a panoramic assortment of societal ranks. Jean Valjean's encounters with street people and malcontent students adds breadth to the political context, keeps the audience abreast of the situation as unrest foments to rebellion. 

Schonberg's apt and catchy song settings with John Cameron's glitzy orchestral packaging are ingeniously woven into the show's dramatic and technical pacing. Schonberg supplies a dynamic spectrum of musical atmospheres that correspond effectively with the story's dramatic scheme; a trove of memorable songs beginning to end. The simple, folk/rock flavored ballads "I Dreamed a Dream" and "On My Own" have already gained signature status, and underline a good deal of the show's progress via assorted retreadings. Noble and forthright, the stately chaconne accompaniment of the former tune echos the visionary strength of France's downtrodden, while "On My Own" intimates vulnerability and longing, sounding not too unlike "Shall We Gather at the River." The action scenes and larger music builds are more the work of Cameron's instrumental episodes, which are at times intriguingly shaded by acoustic/synthetic mixes. 

A toast to Herbert Kretzmer's irresistable lyrics. The serious songs touch both persona feelings and greater concerns, and there's no shortage of laughs, either. Ribald rhymes and ruthless punning make "Master of the House" (later "Beggars at the Feast") and "Dog Eats Dog" hilarious foils to the story's grimmer moments. The songs are sung by M. & Mme. Thenardier (Gary Beach and Gina Ferrall), shameless skalleywags whose pure wretchedness give the show a breath of fresh air. 

You couldn't hope for a better cast ... for the most part. Rich Herbert gives an unusually winning portrayal of the ever-valiant Jean Valjean. Playing a saint is no picnic and Herbert wears his halo credibly. His physical presence is a given asset for the role, but he also brings dynamic acting ability and beautifully voiced arias. Richard Kinsey poses a menacing presence as Javert, Jean Valjean's pursuer; a real swine. With a booming bass voice that shoots up the spine like an aftershock, Kinsey looms relentlessly on the heels of our hero from beginning to near-end. Javert's final withdrawal from the chase, (we're talking terminal) features one of the show's most ingenious technical displays, a stunt that is perfectly suited to the character's formidable stature. 

With all the pieces artfully made and fit in place, there remains something to be desired in "Les Miserables." By virtue of the sheer magnitude of spectacle, gadgetry overwhelms humanity. Guts and glory are mere ingredients of the multi-tiered phenomena rather than the meat of it all wedged in between hardware and software like the ewoks in "Star Wars." The musical's emotional resonance is strategically planted into the scheme of things, designed so neatly and predictably that the stitches show. 

For tickets call (415) 474-3800

[bblfoods23]

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