#i could offer a translation but i feel like the comedy of the situation comes off better without it haha

[astriiformes]

A scene for you all:

Me, explaining to my professor in my limited Norwegian that I am friends with the person who said hi to me in the Finnish conversation group happening a table over from our Norwegian group because we discovered a while back that we both carry around little emotional support bird friends.

Him: Er hun vennen din?

Me: Oh, ja, um vi møttet fordi vi bådde har fugler med oss? [Points at hers, holds up mine]

Him, laughing: Ja, der er ikke mange folk med fugler.

Me: Det er hvorfor vi begynte å snakke.

Him: Har fuglen din en navn?

Me: ..........Ja um. Han heter, um. Flapjack.

[abimess]

The Story Of Us - Part 13

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist | Get notified of my next stories

Summary: You and Wanda have known each other since you were little. And a love story that could've been as simple as a clichéd romantic comedy suffers the effects of stubbornness and immaturity, ending up becoming something almost like a Greek tragedy.

Word count: 2.913  || Pronouns: she/her

Warnings: none

And it's finally here! This chapter is more of an epilogue, really, but it's a cute moment and I feel like it wouldn't make sense if I left this song out. Hope you like it!

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist | Previews Part (Read on: Wattpad || AO3)

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

Lover

This would be the prettiest sight in Westview if you didn't have a certain redhead in mind.

Still, the party venue didn't fail to take your breath away, with the pastel decorations just the way Wanda likes them, and the yellowish lights you've chosen, which give the whole garden a more and more welcoming tone as the sun goes down. 

And all this from the small window of the room where you are getting ready. You imagine how beautiful the ceremony will be when you finally come down to be part of it. 

Only the thought makes your insides turn nervously, your heart beating faster with anxiety. Of course your brain would trick you into thinking about all the things that could go wrong, but you wouldn't allow that. Everything would be fine, there's no reason to be nervous.

"We have a problem." Is the next thing you hear, and you spin on your heels to face Pietro entering the room. "A small problem, nothing I can't fix." He adds quickly as he closes the door, slightly scared by your desperate expression, "I actually just don't know where to put the ring bear."

"Ring bearer?" You correct, looking at him with shock, and the man shrugs his shoulders. "Yes, the bear that will bear the rings." He says with obviousness, but you keep looking at him completely baffled, hoping he is kidding. From the way his eyes widen in the next second, you figure he’s not.  

"OH MY GOD." Pietro exclaims, his face showing a mixture of realization and terror, and you widen your own eyes in both irritation and disbelief. "YOU BROUGHT A BEAR TO MY WEDDING?!"

"What the hell are you two yelling about?!" Natasha’s voice is confused as she enters the room, Maria right behind her. As the two women enter and close the door, you run your hand through your hair angrily. "Pietro brought a wild animal to my wedding!"

"Technically it's not wild, it lives in a zoo-"

"There's a bear at my wedding!" You interrupt the defensive speech of the blonde man, who shuts up immediately, ashamed - and slightly scared of your angry posture. Natasha and Maria exchange confused looks as you keep mumbling under your breath about your wedding being a complete disaster. 

"Okay, Y/n, calm down." Asks the redhead tenderly, placing her hands on your shoulders and guiding you to sit on the chair near the window you were previously looking at. After you do, Natasha turns her attention to her girlfriend. "Babe, can you go get her some water please?" 

At the same instant, Maria nods and rushes out of the bedroom. As you bury your face in your hands in distress, Natasha crosses her arms, looking at Pietro, who’s been motionless by the side of the door. "You, talk."

"Alright, so, Wanda left me in charge of taking care of the ring bearer and-"

"Never mind, you don't have to say anything else." The redhead interrupts with a tired sigh, torn between laughing at the absurdity of that situation or slapping the man on the head for such an unbelievable mistake. 

"Okay, look, in my defense, he's trained for this. He's pretty small, his name is Koda and he's adorable." The blonde man argues at the same time as Maria returns to the room, and offers a yellow smile in an attempt to make the situation better somehow. 

"I just saw the bear, he really is cute." The dark-haired woman adds, handing you the glass of water, and you drink it all in a single gulp. "Okay then, if the bear is trained for it I don't see a problem. It'll be a lot of fun, actually." Natasha says, reassuringly looking at you and you sigh, nodding your head in surrender.

"Great... But now we have another problem." Pietro says, attracting all the attention back to him. "You'll have to tell Wanda about the bear." He says, directly at you, and you furrow your brows in confusion. "Me? Why me?" You ask, and the blonde man puts his hand on his pockets before saying, "Because I'm afraid of her."

"Pietro, I-"

"Cool, bye!" He interrupts before sprinting out of the room, closing the door with a loud thud, and you let out an incredulous chuckle. "Can you believe this guy is gonna be my brother-in-law?" You say with humor, making the other women in the room smile amusedly. 

"But are you complaining?" Natasha questions with a raise of her eyebrow, and you smile to yourself as you think about getting married to the woman you love. "Absolutely not." You answer, receiving a sweet smile from your friend. 

"Alright, let me go fix this mess." You say as you stand up and receive from the other two pats on your back and supportive comments.

The second floor of the house you rented for the wedding is taken mostly by the people working on the ceremony, so you don’t get stopped to chat on your way to the room where Wanda was getting ready. Just the thought of seeing her made your skin shiver with anticipation, and you had a smile on your lips as you knocked on the door. 

Although you can hear the sounds of chatter coming from inside, no one comes to open the door for you, so you decide to open it yourself. 

"Wands?" You call out the moment you step in inside the room and, although you still can’t see them, the chattering stops. "What are you doing here? You can't see me!" Wanda shouts from the bathroom, almost in distress, and you smile amusedly.

"Yeah, Y/n! It's bad luck!" Carol adds, coming out of the bathroom and walking towards you with an almost angry expression that makes you immediately raise your hands in surrender. You barely get a glimpse of your fiancée getting out of the bathroom before the blonde covers your eyes with your hand.

"And you can't see her either, miss, close your eyes!" Maria says with amused disapproval, and you imagine that she covered Wanda’s eyes as well. "Guys, I need to talk to her." You say amidst a laugh, your hands in the pockets of your suit.

"Wait, I have an idea." You hear Carol tell, and soon after you are being moved around the room by hands that you imagine are the blonde's. By the soft mumbles coming from Wanda, you imagine that Maria is doing the same to her.

"Okay, you can open your eyes." Carol says, and when you do as you are told, you are met with only Wanda's face a few inches from yours, a long towel held up between you so that you can't see the rest of each other's bodies. And she looks absolutely stunning.

"What is it?" The redhead asks with amusement at your clear expression of wonder, and you giggle lightly, smiling foolishly at her, unable to stop admiring her. "I haven't seen you since this morning. You look beautiful."

"My makeup isn't even half done." Wanda comments with a playful chuckle, but she has reddened cheeks from your comment, and you can only fall even deeper in love with her. "I know, and you already look breathtaking."

"Guys, I know it's your wedding day and all, but I'm gonna puke if you keep this up." Carol playfully complains beside you, and the four of you giggle before Wanda frowns in confusion. 

"What did you want to talk to me about?" She asks, and you find yourself unable to tell her what happened. She would probably just be more anxious and nervous than she already is, and you wanted this day to be nothing but perfect for her.

"Pietro has a surprise for you." You tell instead, watching your bride's countenance turn into one of curiosity and excitement. "It's happening during the ceremony, so he asked me to let you know."

"Okay." She comments with an anxious giggle, and you can tell by her expression that she is holding back from asking questions, so you rush to say, "See you at 5:30."

"See you at 5:30." She repeats sweetly, happy smiles taking over both your faces as you lean toward each other like magnets. Before your lips can meet Wanda's, however, a hand is placed between you.

"No kissing until the preacher allows it!" Carol says, looking at you both reproachfully. And, amidst giggles, you have your friend cover your eyes again and carry you out of the room.

-----

"Are you sure you're going in alone?" asks one of the staff members responsible for guiding the ceremony forward, and you let out a shaky breath of nervousness as you see all the people you know sitting in the chairs arranged in front of the altar.

You and your family never got along again after so many arguments and years apart. You didn't care much for that, at least not anymore. But there was the inconvenience at this moment of not having anyone to go in with you, and in the midst of so many things to sort out, you forgot to choose someone to do it with.

"Absolutely not." A voice behind you sounds before you can give her your confirmation, and you and the woman look back immediately, "I'm going in with her."

"Charles." You say with a smile that reciprocates his. "Congratulations on the wedding, child. You deserve all the happiness in the world." He wishes, taking one of your hands between his, and you have to hold back your tears as you thank him.

"All right then. You may go." Says the woman, signaling down the aisle before giving a few commands on her walkie-talkie. In the next instant soft music begins to play, and conversations quickly die down as the guests look back.

You and Charles exchange a look of confirmation before you begin to walk slowly toward the altar. You exchange a few glances and smiles with close friends, your heart beating fast with each new step. 

As you reach the altar, the man turns to you to deposit a gentle kiss on your cheek, and you smile at him as he walks back to stand beside Erik on one of the chairs, who is also smiling at you.

You try not to let your nerves get the best of you as the ceremony takes place, controlling yourself so that your leg doesn't shake with anxiety. But it is only when Wanda appears at the end of the aisle, accompanied by her father, that your brain completely stops working. 

It's as if everything around you happens in slow motion and is slowly dimmed, darkened until only you and Wanda are left, smiling as she gets closer and closer. At some point you can no longer hold back your tears, and you don't even mind too much because the redhead has tears in her eyes too when she joins you. 

Oleg hugs you tightly as the two of them reach the altar, and you don't wait for him to pull away completely to turn your full attention to your bride.

"Hi." She whispers softly as she stops in front of you, looking up at you with those beautiful green eyes you fell so hopelessly in love with all those years ago, and it's hard not to kiss her as you smile back. "Hi."

The preacher gets back to talking after that. About love, commitment, and all the things that the woman in front of you makes you feel strongly and want for the rest of your days. You have to focus really hard to pay attention to the speech and not get lost in the redhead's beauty, but every time she smiles, it's as if all your attempts have been in vain. 

But eventually she looks away down the aisle, and you decide to follow her gaze as the guests let out choruses of surprise and excitement. You softly chuckle as your eyes rest where everyone else's are. 

Walking slowly down the aisle toward you, a small brown bear with an even smaller black tie wrapped around his neck carries in his mouth a little basket with the rings that you and Wanda will exchange.

"There's a bear at our wedding." Wanda comments, looking at the little creature in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, and you hum in confirmation. "A special gift from your brother." You tell, drawing her gaze back to you. "Our ring bearer."

The redhead's frowning eyebrows only last for a brief moment before her countenance turns to one of understanding, chuckling softly at the misunderstanding her brother had committed. She should've known.

But the guests let out adoring sounds, laughing and taking pictures of the animal as it approaches you, and you can only think that Natasha was right, it was fun after all. 

When the little bear finally makes it down the aisle, his trainer hands the rings to you and Wanda, and you both hold your breaths in anticipation. When the preacher instructs you to take your vows, you let out a long sigh.

"Wanda Maximoff," you begin, smiling wider when you see the happy smile on her lips, "I thought I fell in love with you that night in high school when you kissed that guy at one of my shows - honestly, how dare you?" 

Your playful question draws laughter not only from your bride but from the guests around you. When the redhead shrugs, they laugh some more. "But the truth is, it was long before that. When I shared my glove with you that cold day, or all the times we stood on the roof at night talking for hours. Or maybe several other times before that. Certainly many other times after."

Your tone is so passionate that Wanda is sure her heart is going to explode at any moment now, but she settles for just letting the tears flow instead. And as for you, you need to clear your throat to fight the crying and get your vows finished. 

"The truth is that you make me fall in love with you every day. Every morning when I wake up next to you and every night when I lie down by your side." You continue, the butterflies flying rampant in your stomach as memories fill your mind. "And I know, as surely as a human being can be, that I will fall in love with you, every day, always, for the rest of our lives."

You finish your vows by placing the wedding ring on Wanda's finger, and she gives a tearful laugh of happiness as she watches the action. When you finish, the preacher tells her to perform her vows now, and the redhead just smiles at you for a moment before doing so.

"Y/n Y/l/n," she begins, "we've been through so much throughout our lives together... A little over two decades now, I thought we'd have grown tired of each other by this point." She jokes, drawing amused giggles from you and your guests. 

"But the truth is, I could never get tired of you," she confesses, her eyes sparkling with the light of the setting sun and something else that only you are capable of awakening in her, "you are the reason I wake up every day with a smile on my face and go to bed every night with the certainty that life can truly be good."

Your smile widening makes tears roll down your cheeks, and Wanda has to resist the urge to hold your face between her hands to keep talking. "And I may not be a silly, naive teenager anymore, but with you, all my days are a fairytale." She remarks knowingly, a reference to the first date of the two of you that only you and she would understand. 

"And I never told you this, but that night on your roof, when you asked me what my planning was for 20 years from then? It was with you." Her confession is tearful, and makes your breath hitch as your tears flow down more freely. 

"It was always you, and it will always be you, for the rest of my days." She assures, placing the ring on your finger this time, and you just want the preacher to give the command soon so you can kiss your bride already.

"If anyone has anything against this union-"

"Oh, please, we've been waiting for this our whole lives!" Tony's shout interrupts the preacher's speech, drawing laughter from everyone around, including herself. "Alright." The woman says with amusement, exchanging glances between you and Wanda as she says, "I now pronounce you wives. You may seal your marriage."

Neither of you needs to hear it a second time, and as soon as the instruction leaves the preacher's lips, you and Wanda are moving forward, your arms around her waist as her hands cup your cheeks, pulling you closer. 

The guests erupt in cheers and applause, but all those sounds are drowned out as your bride - now wife - kisses you passionately, the best kiss you have ever shared in your lives. 

As Wanda said, you have been through a lot together. But right now, more than ever, you are sure that the story of you is nowhere near over, and things would only get better from here on out.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

And this is the end! Thank you so much to everyone who followed this story, I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you all liked reading it as well. As always, thoughts and comments are very much appreciated ad encouraged. Stay safe!

Extra: Something New

[jocia92]

… So much of an actor’s craft is figuring out the “I want” of their character, but that’s got to be a little different with Tom since he states that he literally cannot want anything. What challenge or opportunity did that pose for you?

I think he wants to improve. I think he wants to calibrate according to Alma’s needs, wants, and desires. I think he’s very ready to learn and to understand. That was the kind of primary objective: listen, learn, calibrate, improve. That’s almost the track of each scenario. He just gets a little better each time, and the process gets a little faster. But certainly, in the beginning, he’s just delivering this sort of 20 classic chat-up lines that he’s been uploaded with and getting it all wrong. It’s fun to watch the machine learn and chart that progress.

On a practical or philosophical level, how did you approach the process of humanizing a character that’s an algorithm, or did you at all?

It was very much about charting with Maria exactly when we want to see the machine, when we want to see the human. Even playing with that ratio was really interesting and fun. It’s not so much about watching him play the machine, but watching a character try to play the human. Certainly, in the beginning, in some of the not quite so successful human moments, shall we say, we deconstructed what we regarded as the conventional human behavior in that. We looked at a lot of screwball comedies, like Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Katharine Hepburn movies. [We were] taking a move or a gesture, breaking that down, and just doing two of the things. It just suddenly looks very odd and wrong, and you’re like, “Oh, this is what a human does in this moment!” But it’s just off. It was really as much about looking at the human.

You’ve mentioned things like The Philadelphia Story as shaping the film and its central relationship. Was that to ground it in reality or further ensconce it in the warped reality of cinema? Grant and Stewart are recognizable to us as people, but things like that mid-Atlantic lilt were entirely manufactured for the screen.

That was a very key point for Maria in referencing Cary Grant. The hair color that we chose for Tom was very much like Cary Grant’s hair color, being a shade darker than is possibly human. And the skin tone being slightly artificial for Tom. You’re right, Cary Grant is often very heightened and mannered sometimes, and it works in the situation in the style of the thing that he’s in. But we quite liked the idea that Tom has been uploaded with some outdated versions of what a romantic lead was supposed to behave like.

It’s striking just how thought-out things had to be down to how Tom responds to dead air space in a conversation. What was the process behind those small moments that can make or break the believability of a character?

It was very fun to play with, and probably quite frustrating for a lot of the human actors. Maren was giving a beautifully naturalistic performance, and the conventional responses that there should be from her scene partner weren’t there. We deliberately strip those away—sometimes without telling her, sometimes without needing to tell her. It’s just the way that Tom was, so it was about pushing those moments into a space that became a little uncomfortable: not jumping in on the lines where you might normally jump in, sometimes coming in hard, sometimes offering a delayed response, sometimes none at all. Playing with those, and watching how comfortable or uncomfortable that made them both, was really fun.

Did that frustration, built in by the process, bleed over for Maren into the character of Alma, do you think?

Maybe for Maren. Certainly, for me, it was frustrating in that I would have to remember not to respond in the way that I might normally and remove some of those things. [I had to] really break down exactly what Tom is thinking, what his programming is doing in that point, how he’s responding and calibrating, and whether we see that or not. Choosing moments to show the human, to show the machine. Along with Maria, that was one of the great joys of the role.

How did you settle on the physicality of the character? Was it at all helpful to have done something like Beauty and the Beast in a mo-cap suit to be hyper-aware of how your own movements translate to the screen?

Very much so. In fact, in pretty much every role I’ve done since Beauty and the Beast, I’ve incorporated not always a movement coach, but I’ve definitely looked at movement theory and physicality in a totally new way because of the challenges of that role. And, I have to say, dance plays a huge part in that. Whether it’s incorporated on the screen or if it’s something that just feels as if it helps the role, I often find that a dance studio is a very fruitful space to discover things about your character’s physicality. Learning the rumba for this role was incredibly helpful because it’s a very precise, technical, almost robotic dance in terms of the laser precision that’s needed to get it absolutely right. I had a fantastically exact teacher in Berlin who was teaching me the rumba the whole way through the shoot. We shot that [one scene] quite near the end of the shoot. Just to have those lessons, that kind of physicality, and that poise with me the whole way through the role was really useful.

How did the role being in a non-native tongue affect the characterization of Tom? Was it all easier to make him seem slightly unreal given that the words might not come quite as naturally as they would in English?

I think it was a deliberate choice on the part of Maria to look for a foreign actor who could speak German. She needed somebody who could both get their heads and their mouths around the very technical German that was required, which, even for a German is pretty complex, but also who had that sense of otherness. I’m sure they could have tailored the screenplay to any number of nationalities, but I was very happy they came to me and made him British. It definitely helped with, as I say, the fact that he’s listening, learning, focusing, trying to improve…that was literally all I was doing last summer, every day.

How do you lock onto the frequency of German comedy, which isn’t always something people associate with that country or people? How is it different than doing something like the more mannered British wit of Blithe Spirit or the broad studio comedy of Eurovision Song Contest?

It’s not a country known for it, but I think they should [be]. I find Germans very funny. They have a very interesting sense of humor. What’s particularly delightful is the way that they can tackle really kind of big, sometimes weighty, issues with a certain wit and lightness of touch, which is not common to all countries. Physical comedy, I think, is fairly universal. I think there’s something almost farcical about some of the physical stuff that we managed to get in this. It was really fun to make people laugh in a foreign language. It was surprisingly delightful. It felt very unifying, somehow, to be able to get a joke across in any language.

[ninja-muse]

i’m trying to branch out and read outside my genre (fantasy) do you have any book recs for someone whose heart is in fantasy but needs to see what else is out there?

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask! Fantasy’s such a wide genre, and this is such an open ask, that I’m mostly going to be recommending books with similar feels or themes from other genres, to push you a little outside the fantasy bubble and introducing you to different genres and types of storytelling. If you have a favourite subgenre or trope or author, I can maybe get a little more specific or offer read-alikes.

Also, I don’t know if you knew this before asking, but fantasy is my favourite genre too, so some of these recs are books that pushed me out of the genre as well, or that I found familiar-but-different.

And this is getting long, so I’m going to throw it under a cut to save everyone scrolling.

Science fiction

the Vorkosigan saga by Lois McMaster Bujold - This is space opera, which means it’ll have fairly familiar plots except with science-y things instead of magic. There’s an heir with something to prove, heists, cons, and mysteries, attempted coups and assassinations, long-suffering sidekicks, and a homeworld that’s basically turn-of-the-century Russia but with fewer serfs. It was one of the first adult sci-fi books I read and genuinely liked.

The Book of Koli by M.R. Carey - I finished this recently, and the second book of the trilogy just came out. This is post-apocalyptic sci-fi, but not grim or particularly complex. (Some SF gets really into the nuts and bolts of the science elements; this isn’t that.) Basically, Koli’s a teenager who wants more than his quasi-medieval life’s given him, and finds himself in conflict with his village (and then exile) because of it. I could see where the story was going pretty much from the start, but I loved the journey anyway.

The Martian by Andy Weir - This doesn’t have much in common with fantasy, but it’s my go-to rec for anyone who’s never read science fiction before, because it’s funny, explains the science well, and has a hero and a plot you get behind right away. In case you haven’t heard of it (or the film), it’s about an astronaut stranded on Mars, trying to survive long enough to be rescued.

Foreigner by C.J. Cherryh - This is an alien first contact story, about a colony of humans in permanent quarantine on an alien planet. The MC is the sole social liaison and translator, explaining his culture to the aliens and the aliens to the human, and working to keep the peace—until politics and assassins get involved. It’s been over a decade since I read this, so my memory’s blurred, but I remember the same sort of political intrigue vibes as the Daevabad trilogy, just with fewer POVs.

Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor - One from my TBR. It looks like dark fiction about women, outcasts, and revenge, which sounds very fantastic and the MC can apparently do magic—but it’s post-apocalyptic Africa.

Speaking of political intrigue and sweeping epic plots, the Expanse series by James S.A. Corey has both in spades. Rebellions, alien technology, corrupt businesses, heroes doing good things and getting bad consequences, all that good stuff. It takes the science fairly seriously, without getting very dense with it, and will probably register as “more sci-fi” than my recs in the genre so far.

Oh, and Dune by Frank Herbert is such a classic chosen-one epic that it barely registers as science fiction at all.

Graphic novels

It’s technically fantasy, but assuming you’ve never picked up a graphic novel before, you should read Monstress by Marjorie Liu. Asian-inspired, with steampunk aesthetics, and rebellions and quests and so many female characters. It’s an absolutely fantastic graphic novel, if you want a taste of what those can do.

I’d highly recommend Saga by Brian K. Vaughan. It’s an epic science fiction story about a family caught between sides of a centuries-long war. (Dad’s from one side, Mom’s from the other, everyone wants to capture them, their kid is narrating.) It’s a blast to read, exciting and tense, with hard questions and gorgeous tender moments, and the world-building somehow manages to include weaponized magic, spaceship trees, ghosts, half-spider assassins, and all-important pulp romance novels without anything feeling out of place.

Historical fiction

Hild by Nicola Griffith - Very rich and detailed novel following a girl growing up in an early medieval English court. It’s very fantasy-esque, with battles and politics and changes of religion, and Hild gets positioned early on to be the king’s seer, so there’s “magic” of a sort as well.

The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry - A widow goes to the Victorian seaside to heal and reawaken her interest in biology. Slow, gentle, lovely writing and atmosphere, interesting characters and turns of plot. Doesn’t actually deliver on the sea monster, but still has a lot to recommend it to fantasy readers, I think.

Yiddish for Pirates by Gary Barwin - The late-medieval Jewish pirate adventure you didn’t know you wanted. It’s funny and literary, full of tropes and set pieces like “small-town kid in the big city” and “jail break”, and features the Spanish Inquisition, Columbus, the Fountain of Youth, and talking parrots, among other things.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett - A thousand pages about the building of a cathedral in England, mostly focusing on the master builder, the monk who spearheads the project, and a noblewoman who’s been kicked off her family’s land, but has several other plots going on, including a deacon with political ambitions, a war, and a boy who’s trying so hard to fit in and do right.

Sharon Kay Penman - This is an author on my TBR, who comes highly recommended for her novels about the War of the Roses and the Plantagenets. Should appeal to you if you liked Game of Thrones. I’m planning to start with The Sunne in Splendour.

Lady of the Forest by Jennifer Roberson - Either a Robin Hood retelling that’s also a romance, or a romance that’s also a Robin Hood retelling.

Hamnet & Judith by Maggie O’Farrell - A novel of the Shakespeare family, mostly focused on his wife and son. Lovely writing and a very gentle feel though it heads into dark and complex subjects fairly often. A good portrait of Early Modern family life.

Mystery

There’s not a lot of mystery that reads like high, epic, or even contemporary fantasy, but if you’re a fan of urban fantasy, which is basically mystery with magic in, then I’d rec:

Cozy mysteries as a general subgenre, especially if you like the Sookie Stackhouse end of urban fantasy, which has romance and quirky plots; there are plenty of series where the detective’s a witch or the sidekick’s a ghost but they’re solving non-magical mysteries, and the genre in general full of heroines who are good at solving crimes without formal training, and the plots feel very similar but with slightly lower stakes. Cozies have become one of my comfort-reading genres (along with UF) the last few years. My intros were the Royal Spyness novels by Rhys Bowen and the Fairy Tale Fatale books by Maia Chance.

If you like your urban fantasy darker and more serious, and your heroines more complicated, try Kathy Reichs and her Temperance Brennan novels. Brennan’s a forensic anthropologist, strong and complicated in the same ways of my fave UF heroines, and the mysteries are already interesting, with a good dash of thriller and a smidge of romance.

Two other recs:

Haunted Ground by Erin Hart - The first of four books about a forensic anthropologist in Ireland, who’s called in when the Garda find bodies in the peat bogs and need to know how long they’ve been there. They’re very atmospheric—I can almost smell the bog—and give great portraits of rural Ireland and small-town secrets, and since not all the bodies found in each book are recent, they also bring interesting slices of the past to life as well.

A Burnable Book by Bruce Holsinger - This is essentially a medieval thriller about a seditious book that’s turned up in London. I liked the mystery in it and that it’s much more focused on the lives of average people than the rich and famous (for all that recognizable people also show up).

Classics

Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift - I swear this is actually one of the first fantasy novels but few people ever really class it as such. Basically, Gulliver’s a ship’s doctor who keeps getting shipwrecked—in a country of tiny people, a country of giants, a country of mad scientists, a country of talking horses, etc. It’s social satire and a spoof of travelogues from Swift’s time, but it’s easily enough read without that context.

Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll - Another, slightly later, fantasy and satire! Even more amusing situations than in Gulliver’s Travels and, while it’s been a while* since I read it, I think it’ll be a decent read-alike for authors like Jasper Fforde, Genevieve Cogman, and that brand of light British comic fantasy.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare - Also technically a fantasy! I mean, there are fairies and enchantments, for all it’s a romantic comedy written entirely in old-fashioned poetry. It’s a pretty good play to start you off on Shakespeare, if you’re interested in going that direction.

On the subject of Shakespeare, I would also recommend Much Ado About Nothing, Macbeth, and King Lear, the first because it’s my favourite comedy, the others because they’re fantasy read-alikes imo as well (witches! coups! drama!).

the Arthurian mythos. Le Morte D’arthur, Crétien de Troyes, The Once and Future King by T.H. White, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court by Mark Twain, etc. - I’ve read bits and pieces of the first two, am about 80% sure I read the third as a kid (or at least The Sword in the Stone), and have the last on my TBR. Basically, these stories are going to give you an exaggeratedly medieval setting, knights, quests, wizards, fairies, high drama, romantic entanglements, and monsters, and the medieval ones especially have different kinds of plots than you’ll be used to (and maybe open the door to more medieval lit?) **

Beowulf and/or The Odyssey - Two epics that inspired a lot of fiction that came later. (There’s an especial connection between Beowulf and Tolkien.) They’re not the easiest of reads because they’re in poetry and non-linear narratives, but both have a hero facing off against a series of monsters and/or magical creatures as their core story.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley - The first real science fiction novel. It’s about the ethics of science and the consequences of one’s actions, and I loved seeing the Creature find himself and Frankenstein descend into … that. It’s also full of sweeping, gothic scenes and tension and doom and drama.

* 25 years, give or take

** There are plenty of more recent people using King Arthur and associated characters too, if this "subgenre” interests you.

Other fiction

Vicious by V.E. Schwab - I don’t know if you classify superheroes as science fiction or fantasy or its own genre (for me it depends on the day) but this is an excellent take on the subject, full of moral greyness and revenge.

David Mitchell - A literary fiction writer who has both a sense of humour and an interest in the fantastic and science fictional. He writes ordinary people and average lives marvelously well, keeps me turning pages, plays with form and timelines, and reliably throws in either recurring, possibly-immortal characters, good-vs-evil psychic battles, or other SF/F-y elements. I’d start with either Slade House, a ghost story, or Utopia Avenue, about a ‘60s rock band. Or possible The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, which I fully admit to not having read yet.

Devolution by Max Brooks - A horror movie in book form, full of tension and desperation and jump scares and the problems with relying on modern technology. The monsters are Bigfeet. Reccing this one in the same way I’m reccing The Martian—it’s an accessible intro to its genre.

Son of a Trickster by Eden Robinson - Contemporary fiction with a slight literary bent, that doesn’t pull its punches about Indigenous life but also has a sense of humour about the same. Follows a teen dealing with poverty and a bad home life and drugs and hormones—and the fact that his bio-dad might actually be the trickster Raven. Also features witches, magic, and other spirit-beings, so I generally pitch this as magic realism.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones - Another Indigenous rec, this time a horror novel about ghosts and racism and trying to do the right thing. This’ll give you a taste of the more psychological end of the horror spectrum.

Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia - A good example of contemporary YA and how it handles the complexities of life, love, and growing up. Follows the writer of a fantasy webcomic who makes a friend who turns out to write fic of her story and who suddenly has to really balance online and offline life, among other pressures. Realistic portrait of mental health problems.

Non-fiction

The Book of Margery Kempe - The first English-language autobiography. Margery was very devout but also very badass, in a medieval sort of way. She went on pilgrimages to Jerusalem, was possibly epileptic, frequently “saw” Christ and Mary and demons, basically became a nun in middle age while staying married to her husband, and wound up on trial for heresy, before talking a monk into writing down her life story. It’s a fascinating window into the time period.

The Hammer and the Cross by Robert Ferguson - A history of medieval Norse people and how their explorations and trade shaped both their culture and the world.

A Time of Gifts by Patrick Leigh Fermor - Travel writing that was recommended to me by someone who raved about the prose and was totally right. Fermor’s looking back, with the aid of journals, on a walking trip he took across Europe in the 1930s. It’s a fascinating look at the era and an old way of life, and pretty much every “entry” has something of interest in it. He met all sorts of people.

Tim Severin and/or Thor Heyerdahl - More travel writing, this time by people recreating historical voyages (or what they believe to be historical voyages, ymmv) in period ships. Severin focuses on mythology (I’ve read The Ulysses Voyage and The Jason Voyage) and Heyerdahl’s known for Kon-Tiki, which is him “proving” that Polynesians made contact with South America. They both go into the history of the sailing and areas they’re travelling through, while also describing their surroundings and daily life, and, yes, running into storms and things.

Hope this helps you!

[mst3kproject]

The Ship of Monsters

Check me out, I’m being topical!  I had another review almost finished for today, but when I saw the news I knew I had to set that aside and find a movie about life on Venus.  This one is a ridiculous Mexican film starring Lorena Velazquez from Samson vs the Vampire Women (looking only slightly less like Cher) and one of those amazing cardboard robots you only get in the very worst of late 50’s and early 60’s sci-fi.

An atomic war on the planet Venus has killed off all the males, so an expedition is sent out in search of replacements, consisting of a native Venusian named Gamma, her Uranian navigator Beta, and their robot Tor.  After promising the Empress that they will bring back only the most manly of men, they wander the solar system a while collecting creatures with penises before an engine problem forces them to land on Earth.  The first human they meet there is Laureano Gomez, a singing cowboy with a well-earned reputation for telling tall tales.  One might assume one could predict the rest of the movie from there… but then Beta turns on Gamma and reveals that her true mission all along was to conquer a planet to feed the vampires of Uranus!

I gotta say… I did not see that coming.

The Ship of Monsters is supposed to be a comedy.  It’s seldom funny when it’s trying to be, although it mercifully avoids being the kind of desperately unfunny a lot of bad comedies are… possibly this is because it’s in Spanish, and by the time I’ve realized something is stupid there’s another subtitle to distract me. The jokes, such as they are, are pretty standard.  Tor the robot was created by an alien race, who were aware of Earth but never bothered exploring it because they thought the inhabitants weren’t very intelligent.  Laureano is in the habit of telling ridiculous stories to his drinking buddies, so of course when he claims the Earth is being invaded by space monsters they don’t believe him.  That sort of thing.  The movie is much funnier when it’s just showing us absurd situations, but to nobody’s surprise, The Ship of Monsters is at its funniest when it’s trying to be serious.

This hilarity comes in many forms, covering just about all the possible bases for a dirt-cheap 1960 sci-fi film.  We have spaceship sets made of cardboard, covered with buttons that don’t actually press and levers conveniently placed so people can bump into them during fight scenes.  We have Tor, with his tin can body that’s always a little dinged up but never in the same places, giving us clues as to what order the scenes might have been shot in.  He also has wiggly spring antennae and makes a little whirring noise every time he moves. We have space babes in silver bathing suits and glittery high heels.  Vampire-Beta, sporting plastic fangs that look like they came from the bottom of a cereal box, could be the female counterpart to the guy from Dracula vs Frankenstein, and the puppet used to represent her in flight is nearly as bad as the one from The Devil Bat.

The ‘monsters’ of the title are a bulging-brained Martian prince, a scaly cyclops, a spidery creature with venomous fangs, and the mobile skeleton of what appears to be a *damn worwelf (he tells us that his race has Evolved Beyond Flesh... apparently not Beyond Bones, though).  The costumes are all terrible, particularly the warwulf puppet, whose backbone extends into his mouth and who has to be carried around with his feet dangling in any shot that’s not a close-up.  It’s nice, though, that a little imagination went into them, and somebody gave a bit of thought to the idea that a monstrous appearance is relative.  The Martian tells Beta that he admires her ambition and might even marry her if she weren’t so ugly by his planet’s standards.

At the end, naturally, this alien invasion is defeated by Laureano, his twelve-year-old brother, and a cardboard robot, while Gamma just stands around and screams.  With a movie like this I expect nothing less.  The denouement contains my favourite intentional joke in the whole thing, in which Gamma stays on Earth with her True Love, and Tor the robot takes his, the Jukebox, back to Venus with him!  Tom Servo would have given a speech to congratulate the happy couple, and I can just see him breaking down into happy tears before he got five lines in.

(The wirwalf skeleton is not present at the climactic fight, by the way… no explanation is offered, and I strongly suspect that they broke the puppet trying.  I rather enjoy this omission, because it lets me imagine him getting lost or maybe buried by an enterprising dog, and finally finding his way back to the landing site only to learn that they’ve left without him.)

I called Laureano a cowboy but he only has one cow.  Her name is Lolobrijida and she is the very first time I have ever seen a movie spur a hero into action by killing his cow.  She gets a proper Teenagers from Outer Space death, with her skeleton left behind propped up by metal struts like a dinosaur in a museum!

I also called him a singing cowboy, which he is – there are several songs, including one in which he tries to explain to Gamma and Beta what ‘love’ means.  The songs have pleasant but forgettable Mexican pop melodies, and none of the lyrics make a whole lot of sense.  Being translated over-literally from Spanish probably didn’t do them any favours (my own Spanish tops out at yo no tengo dinero), but I still can’t imagine that the What Is Love song clarified anything.

Laureano himself comes across as kind of a fool, but he’s not actually a full-on idiot, which is quite important.  If he were the kind of one-dimensional ‘comedic nitwit’ embodied in characters like Dropo, or the janitor from Reptilicus, he’d be insufferable.  Laureano is no genius, but he’s got personality traits besides being stupid – he cares deeply for his little brother Chuy and for his animals, and he doesn’t treat Gamma and Beta’s appearance as two women for the price of one.  Very quickly he decides that Gamma is the one he loves, and he sticks to that, doing his best to let Beta down gently even when she offers to make him a king.  He’s also smart enough to trick Beta into dancing with him so he can steal the device she uses to control the rocket and Tor, and to listen to Gamma when she tells him about the various monsters’ weaknesses.

Gamma and Beta, on the other hand, don’t have a lot to them besides the basic fact that Gamma is the Nice One and Beta is Evil. Gamma starts out in the story with a strong sense of duty, and it’s a bit disappointing to see her abandon that because of Tru Luv.  I would have liked the ending better if she’d taken Laureano home with her so that the two of them could be the Adam and Eve of the new Venusian race.  Meanwhile, Beta shows no sign of any loyalty except to herself and her own ambition.  Her original mission, to secure Earth as a blood supply for the Uranians, falls by the wayside as she decides she’s going to conquer and rule the planet herself.

So The Ship of Monsters isn’t exactly a feminist manifesto, but neither is it complete misogynistic garbage like Project Moon Base.  The whole premise, after all, rests on a planet of women being able to develop space travel all on their own!  This is a fairly surprising plot point, because in many ‘planet of women’ movies like Fire Maidens of Outer Space or Cat Women of the Moon, the ladies need the virile Earth Men to come to them.

There’s also a little bit of actual science peeking out of the cracks.  The moment for launch of the rocket from Venus is determined by when ‘the elliptical orbits coincide’.  Launch timing is, indeed, a delicate art depending very much on what’s orbiting where. There’s also the moment when, trying to land on Earth, Gamma and Beta worry that the friction, combined with our oxygen-rich atmosphere, will set their ship on fire.  This stuff is pretty impressive coming from a time when the moon landing was still nearly a decade away.  There are even a couple of scenes in zero gravity that honestly aren’t totally terrible.  I mean, I’ve seen better, but I’ve also seen much, much worse.

There’s also one weirdly prescient moment when Laureano, telling one of his silly stories in the pub, describes being surrounded by dinosaurs – only to get a laugh a moment later when he mentions that they had beautiful plumage.  I’m not sure whether this is meant to be a joke in that Laureano is exaggerating an actual encounter with an angry bird into something more fearsome (I think we’re to assume that the whole story is totally made up), or whether it’s just supposed to be funny that Laureano thinks dinosaurs had feathers instead of scales.  Either way, it’s the equivalent of the moon Fornax in Menace from Outer Space being so reminiscent of Io.  There’s no way the writers could have known that, but it’s interesting nonetheless.

The Ship of Monsters is very cheap and very dumb, but it’s good fun for those of us who like crummy old alien invasion movies, and I recommend it to anybody in that demographic.  As for actual life on Venus… I feel like a lot of the people getting excited are too young to remember when Bill Clinton told the world that we had totally found life on Mars.  Humans have been discovering life on other planets for about two hundred years and every single one of those ‘discoveries’ has turned out to be either a mistake or an outright lie.  We have plenty enough to panic about this year without a Venusian invasion.

[marquillosource]

Translation of the Interview below  ↓

Interviewer: It’s 5:39 p.m., one hour less in the Canary Islands. We’ve said a few weeks ago that during this confinement, La Casa de Papel has become Netflix’s most watched non-English speaking TV show. I don’t just mean Spain, obviously. I’m speaking about the entire world.

And we’re seeing just that in this program’s Twitter account. You can’t imagine the amount of messages we’ve received from the corners of the five continents since announcing it today and we’re going to talk to them now.

The day Season 4 premiered – just that first day – it was watched by 34 million people. That’s data that Netflix itself has released. This is a show that started here in Antena 3.

Here to talk to us, we have two confined people. Not in the Bank of Spain, but in their homes I suppose.

They are Álvaro Morte. How are you, Álvaro? Good afternoon.

Álvaro: Good afternoon, Julia. It’s a pleasure. How are you?

Interviewer: Likewise. And Itziar Ituño, to whom I’m going to refer to as the Inspector because… Itziar, good afternoon.

Itziar: Good afternoon, Julia. How are you?

Interviewer: I’ll call her the Inspector Murillo because earlier we said something else and I got called out. Some people were like: ‘we’re still on Season 1!’ and I told them ‘Okay, okay! The Inspector Murillo and that’s that… We won’t say anything else.’ Who is the best person I’ve ever seen put her hair up with a pencil in History.

Itziar: [ laughs ] Yes. Well, University and many hours of studying, you know…

Interviewer: Yes. That’s the thing. These things require a great intellectual effort, right?

Itziar: [ laughs ] Yes.

Interviewer: Álvaro, where were you when the State of Emergency began?

Álvaro: Luckily, I was shooting a TV show in Prague – The Wheel of Time (La Roda del Tiempo) and I had just finished it a week before everything happened. So I was home. I was caught in the middle of all of this. And now I’m in my house in Madrid.

Interviewer: That was lucky. Because another week, you’d be stuck with the TV show halfway done without an ending.

Álvaro: Of course. Can you imagine? We would have had to stop filming, stop everything… Imagine if I hadn’t finished my part. Since I won’t be available until this passes. Thankfully, my part is done and I’m home, enjoying some time with my little ones.

Interviewer: You have two little ones, Álvaro? What are their ages?

Álvaro: Five. Five years-old.

Interviewer: Five years-old. Just the one?

Álvaro: No. They’re twins.

Interviewer: Oh, you have twins! Five year-old twins. Of course, you must be distracted then.

Álvaro: Just picture it. I don’t have time for myself.

Interviewer: Because 5 years-old…

Álvaro: [ laughs ] I have no problem finding things to distract myself with during the quarantine. I’m very envious.

Interviewer: It’s an age where they distract a lot and they move around a lot. Well, and in Itziar Ituño’s case… Where were you when the quarantine began, Itziar?

Itziar: I was close to home. Because I was in the Basque Country, where I was shooting a film and a mini-series. I was going home to spend the night, so I was home as well. For which I’m grateful.

Interviewer: Well, I was going to ask you both if this international boom the show [LCDP] has caused had lead to other offers, but you’ve already answered. You’re full of work, with other shows and films. Álvaro.

Álvaro: Yes. Fortunately, this wave that La Casa de Papel has created has opened a lot of doors for me and brought offers on the table, and many other great things.

You have a dream of working and, suddenly, you get a chance like this… of working with these people. And, well, I have a friend with projects that are in a bit of a standstill right now. So if I already feel privileged to have work as an actor in this country… even more so when our career is doing well and we can almost chose, you know? I feel truly lucky and very honored.

But I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow. It might all be gone. So I’m just trying to live in the moment and enjoy it.

Interviewer: And Itziar, are you living something similar?

Itziar: Yes. It’s true that, in the long run, there were a lot of projects on the horizon - apart from the ones that have been kind of on lockdown because of this Pandemic. And we’re just waiting to see what happens.

What Álvaro said is true. We have the good fortune of being able to chose what work we want to do. And I think we’re very lucky to be part of the show and to have this opportunity because it’s true that most of our fellow actors are in a terrible situation, especially now. We’ll see how the country’s Culture will also be after all of this…

Interview: Well, it’s going to be the last thing to return – concerts, theatre, all of it. There’s going to be people that will have a lot of trouble putting food on the table, with no income at the end of the month.

Itziar: Yes. That’s another big concern we all have. We’ll see what happens.

Interviewer: We’ll see what happens. Well, what kind of relationships do all of you keep? For example, the two of you – Álvaro and Itziar – How long has it been since you’ve spoken over the phone?

Itziar: I don’t remember. Álvaro…

Álvaro: A long time, a long time. [ laughs ]

Interviewer: I don’t believe it. Really? Really?

Álvaro: We talk on the phone a lot on the show. [ laughs ]

Interviewer: A lot.

Itziar: We do have a group on Whatsapp and everyone from La Casa de Papel keeps in touch that way. Actually speak… I think it was at that Antena 3 thing when we saw each other.

Álvaro: Yes.

Itziar: But over the phone… it’s very rare.

Interviewer: Well, well, well… Here I had the notion that you guys were like a family. I suppose the audience is very taken by the media and the fictional image of the group – myself included.

Álvaro: But we really are a kind of family. In a healthy family, you share everything with everyone. In a way, right? Then, to that effect, we are all very much in contact with each other. We know where everybody else is and all that. It’s better than making individual connections. There’s a strong bond between all of us.

Itziar: Besides, we all lead our own lives, busy and stressed with a thousand projects. And it’s not until we see each other again, when we come back for the next season, that we settle down and immediately catch up and recover.

[unintelligible]

Interviewer: That must be a kind of Sudoku for the Production Manager of the show. There must be a signed contract of sorts, where you commit to being available from this date to this date. Otherwise, it would be impossible for all of you to be there.

Álvaro: Yes, that’s true. We do that in advance. Because anything can happen – like this Pandemic or any other type of event and, suddenly, everything can get delayed or you have to change dates or your schedule no longer coincides with other people’s schedule. It’s complicated, but it can be done.

Interviewer: And when, suddenly, one day, you see Stephen King himself praising La Casa de Papel on Twitter, even putting on the Dalí mask, which is a characteristic emblem of the show. Of course, it’s hard to predict success… What do you think is this x-factor that all creators search for and so few achieve?

Álvaro.

It’s difficult to define it, but it has it.

Álvaro: Yes. There’s always a component of inexplicable magic – because, if we could define it as it is, it could replicate it with other TV shows and they would all be hits. That’s impossible, it can’t be done.

But, having said that, I believe that it is a combination of things – it’s not a single factor. I think there are some very well constructed characters right off the script, that suffer passions with which we can perfectly identify with as the viewer. I’m talking about what happens inside of them, with their feelings.

There’s an iconography: the red jumpsuits, the masks, the song ‘Bella Ciao’… And I’m going to add something else that’s very important – well, two more things – the show has a very good balance between the drama, the comedy, the action, the romanticism… I think it’s all very well balanced.

But, above all of it, there’s one thing the show puts on the table – and that is this concept of ‘hey, maybe things aren’t as good as we have been led to believe’, and though we might be small, we can still hit the table and say ‘What’s going on here? Let’s try to change things.’.

Maybe the little guy can take on the big guy sometimes, you know?

And I think that everyone, at some point in their lives, has felt like they’re small fish in some regard. So it’s very easy to identify with the message the show delivers. And a lot of its success is due to this feeling we have of ‘The Resistance’ and the idea that we have to change a system that looks corrupt or doesn’t work anymore.

Itziar: I agree with him. There’s something irreverent about it, about putting up a fight that has had a great impact on an international level, with the discontent we all have deep inside.

It’s a bit like putting the human being at the center of the concerns of the world as a paradigm of life. And I think that that’s how it engages, how it connects in so many countries, all so different from the rest.

Interviewer: By the way, Álvaro – Would you like to play a silly character?

Álvaro: Well, I would try it. I believe that characters… Look, they’ve asked me in other interviews that I’ve done, what other character from La Casa de Papel would I like to play and I suppose…

Well, first off, how wonderful is my colleagues’ work. All and every single one of them is wonderful and I think that the construction they’ve done of thee character from the script is beyond fabulous.

So I would love to do any of their roles, but trying to get away…

Interviewer: Of course.

Álvaro: From The Profesor.

Interviewer: Let me tell you, the challenge – as an actor – would be to be believable while playing a silly character. Because no one can imagine you like that. Which means, this will haunt you for the rest of your life.

[ Álvaro laughs ]

Álvaro: Look, I also believe that the Profesor is very intelligent, but only in certain aspects. He’s very intelligent when it comes to planning or on a systematic and methodical level, but when it comes to emotional intelligence… the man is quite lost.   

[ laughs ]

He needs a boost in that sense. So it’s not true that he’s absolutely bright. I think he has his areas of intelligent action and his areas in which he’s very awkward.

That’s why, perhaps, I did find him an attractive character.

The moment that I’m asked to play a character that is completely different from The Professor, that’s when I begin to get interested. Because it’s already done, and so it’s not very interesting to repeat.

Interviewer: Sure, sure. By the way, we have asked the listeners that are fans of La Casa de Papel to leave question. Some have already sent some through Twitter, for example… Itziar, a listener asked if you guys see yourselves making a spin-off of the show as a couple.

[ Itziar laughs ]

Interviewer: Listen, it’s an idea. It’s an idea.

Álvaro: It’s an idea, yes.

Itziar: I don’t know. I don’t know if it that big of a deal. I don’t know – I’m not a big fan of stretching stories out like gum, because sometimes they break, you know?

And no, I don’t no. You have to be very careful with these things, because when you have a formula that works very well. A lot of the time… doing experiments like this, it doesn’t turn out so well.

It’s true that there are a lot of people that love all of the characters and I think they want to have more and more, to know more about each of their stories. But I don’t know…I don’t know.

What do you think, Álvaro?

Álvaro: Well, that I… I don’t know. I, right off the bat, I thought that as a spin-off, I would suggest that it could explore the challenges they could face as a couple. In any case, there is no point in doing a spin-off of… I still not quite sure what your opinion is.

Interviewer: It’s curious because there are many people – many viewers – that are in love with the love of your fictional characters, right? There are people who are in love with love, even if it is the love of others and a fictional love.

And I see on Twitter, that there are hundreds of messages from people who want to believe almost, that it’s real… that it’s real life. It’s what fiction leads us to.

Well, another listener sent in his question, he asks – ‘ask the Profesor when the vaccine for Covid-19 is coming out. I’m sure he knows’. [ laughs ]

Álvaro: If only.

Interviewer: If only.

Álvaro: I would have to ask Álex Pina, he’s the one who ultimately writes the character of the Profesor. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner the better. I’ve been involved in a movement called #YoMeCorono, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.

Interviewer: Yes, yes.

Álvaro: To try to get funding for the vaccine and-

Interviewer: The one with Bonaventura Clotet, the doctor.

Álvaro: That’s right. So, I don’t know if the Profesor knows or doesn’t know when the vaccine is going to come out, but I would like to appeal to all the people to do their small part so that we can all get out of this as soon as possible.

And if we look around, I’m certain – certain! – that with a simple glance, we can say ‘I could do without this, I could do without this, I don’t need this, I spent a lot of money on this here and I never use it’ and a small contribution from each of us could save many lives.

I think that – right now, in times like these – I feel that we have a great opportunity to stop and think about the importance of all this that’s happening and react a little bit.

Of course, we have to react as a society. But we also have the opportunity to show what we’re like as individuals.

Interviewer: And what do you think, Itziar, every time you see a demonstration demanding justice where there are people dressed up in red jumpsuits and Dalí masks singing ‘Bella Ciao’?

That must be moving, right?

Itziar: It’s very moving to think that you’re a part of a show that has become such a social phenomenon and that people are taking its symbols as an emblem of many protests and vindications. And to go a little against the grain and against the establishment that, most of the time, isn’t fair at all.

So, it’s very moving to see that, in a student manifestation on the other side of the world, they’re singing ‘Bella Ciao’; or in Brazil, on the 8th of March, the women were doing their own verses of the song. I found this incredible. I’m very thrilled about it.

Interviewer: Beyond that, I think we were touched – as Álvaro says – about the Open Arms ship that, when they rescued a boat full of migrants…

Itziar: Wow.

Interviewer: …on the high seas,

Álvaro: Yes.

Interviewer: …and the moment they stepped on land, they suddenly began singing ‘Bella Ciao’.

Álvaro: Yes.

Itziar: [ unintelligible ]

Álvaro: Of course. I don’t know to what extent it was because of the show or not, but…

Interviewer: I’m sure it was.

Álvaro: Because if so…

Interviewer: Definitely.

Álvaro: It was kind of exciting wasn’t it? People were saving lives and, in that moment of emotion, …

Itziar: Wow.

Álvaro: …they start singing ‘Bella Ciao’. It’s very touching.

Interviewer: Do you want to hear comments or questions from the listeners? Here, they have left them for you, for Álvaro Morte and Itziar Ituño. Let’s see what they have to say:

Fan #1: Well, first of all – hello to both of you. I admire you a lot, you’re both terrific actors. It’s a question for both of you, but more directed at Álvaro, because you’ve gone from 7 million to 10 million followers on Instagram in almost two weeks. How do you deal with being so well known around the world? How are you? How do you channel it? How do you get your head around it?

Fan #2: Good afternoon. My question is for Itziar Ituño. I would like to ask her what she thinks Itziar and Raquel have in common. And the similarities that there can be between a character and an actor, especially since they’re both incredibly strong women.

Fan #3: Hello. You’re the best actors in the world. I’m waiting for Season 5. It’s the best show I’ve ever watched and I hope to meet you someday. Carlota. I love you guys so much. Love you. [kiss]

Interviewer: Well, okay…

[ Álvaro & Itziar laugh ]

Interviewer: We have put one of these messages as a representative of the minimum of 150 that we have received.

Itziar: My God!

Interviewer: Well…

Álvaro: My God!

Interviewer: The first question for Álvaro, and then onto Itziar.

Álvaro: Well, look… this thing of being famous and all, it’s a little unsettling. I try to keep my feet on the ground, I try to take all of this with a lot of humor, with good sense and humility.

It’s true that when you suddenly drop from anonymity and, no matter where you go on the planet, you get stopped on the street. Wherever you go, they stop you in the street to take pictures with you and there is a moment when intimacy is out of your control.

There’s been a time when I have had to learn – and it’s something that’s been very difficult for me, because every time a fan has approached me to ask for a picture… Of course, we’re here for them too. Absolutely. And it’s because of them that we’re here.

And whenever I’ve been asked for a picture, I’ve always said yes and I’ve had to learn to say no when I’m with my family for example. When I’m with my family, I don’t want them to be part of this whole circus–

Interviewer: Of course.

Álvaro: –that is created around this whole story of what fame is. I knew from the moment I decided to be an actor, that this might be a collateral damage. But they can’t be a part of it.

I’ve tried to leave them a little bit out of this.

Interviewer: Sure, sure.

Álvaro: And I always try to agree to it, but there are things like having your picture taken from afar without your permission or things of that sort. That I don’t handle well, people being like that… But I try to take it calmly and with humor, and that’s it.

Interviewer: And Itziar? What is there of Itziar Ituño in Raquel or vice versa? Two strong women.

Itziar: The question was about – and I think so – if we have things in common. Raquel Murillo, she works in a world… well, in the Police, for example, where men are the ones who exercise the power.

She has to make people respect her, she has to maintain her authority and power. And how can a woman with her life upside down – I don’t have my life upside down, thank God [laughs] – but I’ve some of those things have happened to me.

Having to make people respect you because of your condition as a woman, you’re not as heard than I believe. Well, I’m not telling you anything new. Many of us, women, have been through it. So, in that sense, it’s very easy to understand.

[ unintelligible ]   …

At the same time, she endures a series of blows with grace and this chick pushes forward and I admire it very much. She seems to be very vulnerable but she has an inner strength that makes her forge ahead all the time. And the truth is that I’m delighted with this character.

Interviewer: That’s true. There was a meme circulating on Whatsapp in which we see Úrsula Corberó (Tokyo in the show) saying to the Profesor: “Profesor, when the fourth season comes out, everyone will working and at school, and nobody will watch it”, to which the Profesor replies: “This is where we begin Plan Wuhan.”

[ Álvaro & Itziar laugh ]

Interviewer: “Four months before the premiere, our man in China will eat a bat…”

Álvaro: Right, right.

Interviewer: It’s very powerful stuff.

Álvaro: Okay, okay…

Interviewer: Wonderful.

Álvaro: We’re getting people to wake up to their genius in this quarantine; There’s a lot of stuff that comes out of there… it doesn’t work.

Interviewer: A huge thanks to Álvaro Morte and Itziar Ituño, who have been here for a little while on the radio. When the confinement is over and you guys aren’t filming, we’ll sit down together – which will be very pleasant.

Álvaro: Hopefully.

Interviewer: I love the show. I’m another fan. Thank you.

Álvaro: Thank you.

Interviewer: Thank you both.

Itziar: Thank you very much, Julia.

Álvaro: A kiss.

Interviewer: See you soon.

Álvaro: A kiss. See you soon.

Itziar: See you soon. Ciao.

Interviewer: News. It’s six o’clock.

[vanaera]

[!] Fic Teaser [!]

➜  RELEASE DATE: FEBRUARY 16, SUNDAY, AT 12 AM GMT+8.

Synopsis: Valentines’ Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other for two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing their PRSs. After Valentines’ week, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader AU/Trope: Office AU (Creatives Staff!myg x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat) Wordcount: 11k [pt.1] Warnings: None

PREVIEW

              Y/N closes her eyes and breathes out. When she opens them again, she looks at Yoongi in the eyes. “I’m not here to fight with you, Yoongi. I’m here to make an offer.”

               Yoongi scoffs, “An offer? You? Are you hearing yourself right now? In case you weren’t informed, I don’t need anything from you. And I didn’t—”

               “You’re single right?”

               Yoongi gawks at her, “W-what?”

               “Well, I’m single, too. And Valentines’ week is coming in two weeks.”

               “So?”

               Y/N tries not to grit her teeth, “So, that means the Heart Holiday is also coming. Nancy is bound to come back during that time, too, with an obvious incoming large workload to come for me. I can’t afford to hole myself up in this office while everyone gets to enjoy a paid holiday week. And since you have an affinity for disliking your work, I figured you also wouldn’t want to go to work during the Valentines’ week.” Y/N crosses her arms, “So I’m here, Min Yoongi, to give you an offer: Fake date me for two weeks to make it to DRM’s PRS’ application deadline. When our application gets approved, we part ways and never speak about what happened in these two weeks. It’s a win-win situation. I don’t get to work during Valentines’. You also don’t get to work, and both of us will still get paid. So, what do you say?”

               Yoongi just stares at her. Y/N could feel cold sweat running from her scalp and down to her back. Why is he looking at her like that? Why is he being so silent? Is he about to make fun of her and bring it up to work tomorrow? Oh God, Y/N shouldn’t have even gone through with this plan. This is a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad, idea that should have never been entertained and buried in a trunk of embarrassing memories, never to see the light again—

               “I’m in.”

               Y/N freezes, “W-what?”

               Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N. He leans forward, closing the distance between their faces into a mere six inches. Y/N doesn’t need to crane her head up anymore because this time, their eyes are finally leveled with each other.

              Yoongi smiles, “I’m telling you, Y/N, I’m in in your plan.”

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission

[apparitionism]

Run

This is a pointless AU, a little idea from elsewhere that’s in the process of turning into a story-esque thing, not a comedy or a drama as such, just a “here’s another way two people might find their way to each other” tale. Also I’ve never deployed a Giselle character, really, and I figured I might as well try. She’s not a bad guy, mind you, nor even an obstacle; the only obstacles, at base, are misunderstandings and circumstances. Conventional ones. They might accurately be called clichéd. Anyway, this is some kind of starting line. Bang. (That’s meant to be a starter’s pistol, by the way; don’t be getting any ideas.)

Run

At four in the morning, Myka Bering sat three steps from the bottom of the dark staircase in her apartment’s foyer and pushed her feet into new running shoes. They looked like nothing special: a standard navy blue faux leather, with their manufacturer’s stylized “Z” logo embossed in silver on the sides. The pristine white of both the slim soles and the no-tie laces pleased her, despite the fact that their just-out-of-the-box luster would of course start graying at the first exposure to the city.

Myka stood up in the shoes and bounced on her toes, her ritual commencement of every day’s run.

The instant her heels left the ground, she understood just how difficult her life was about to become.

For this decidedly unspecial-seeming shoe—the Deceit—represented the latest attempt by the Zelus athletic corporation to gain an insurmountable advantage in the sport of running.

Myka’s job was to stop them.

*

At her desk at work later that morning, Myka revised, for accuracy, her overly dramatic thought of the morning: a small part of her job was to help stop them. Her actual job was to co-direct certification and compliance for Athletics Authority International, the globe-spanning organization that governed running, jumping, and throwing events. The organization regularly dealt with issues of equipment inappropriately boosting performance; thus Deceits, understood one way—nondramatically—were just the latest technological challenge to the idea of a level playing field.

But based on her morning’s run, Myka did not think Deceits could be understood nondramatically.

“Did you try the Deceits yet?” she asked Pete Lattimer, her co-directing partner. They had taken to joking that in their area, he was the “athletics”—an Olympic-team-alternate decathlete—while she was the “international,” for she’d got her job based largely on her wide-ranging language fluency. Myka suspected that today, athletics aside, his answer would be “no”; they’d received the shipment of test shoes only a few days ago, and Pete was focusing more on language than sports lately anyway, Duolingo-ing his heart out in Spanish so as to one day be able to impress Kelly Hernandez, head of Latin American outreach, such that she would first agree to go to lunch with him and then, swayed partially by his language skills but mostly by his charm, acknowledge that they were destined to spend their lives together. Myka wasn’t at all sure Kelly was going to persuaded by Pete’s bilingual (or “bilingual”) flirting... though he was also concentrating heavily on vocabulary related to sandwiches, so he’d probably end up with at least a food-related happy ending.

“Nah,” he said, confirming her prediction about the shoes. “I’m guessing you must’ve, though. They as crazy as those trials records make ’em seem?”

“Crazier,” Myka said. “To me. But I want to know how they really feel. To a real athlete.”

“Somebody needs a real athlete? I see why Lattimer’s not up to it,” remarked a tall woman as she approached Myka’s desk. Myka looked up and smiled.

“Same goes for you, Giselle,” Pete said, but with cheer. “How’s communications?”

“Turn those children over my knee if I could,” Giselle replied, equally cheerful. “That’s where you can help: how’s your javelin these days?”

“Why don’t you just run away? I thought you were supposed to be fast or something.”

Giselle Wade was fast—Myka knew it, and she knew Pete knew it too. Giselle was a legend in East Texas, where she had shattered high school track records, particularly at the longer distances. She’d done the same to NCAA times, placing some out of reach for what would probably be generations. U.S. bests had fallen to her too, though worlds had been elusive... but she had some impressive Olympic hardware all the same.

“Outran you,” Giselle said, which was true; her 1500-meter times were faster than Pete’s had ever been.

They would have gone on for a while before they wound down, but their jabs gave Myka the opening she needed. “Speaking of running,” she said to Giselle, “did you try the Deceits?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And exactly what you think,” Giselle said. Before Myka could get her to clarify, she went on, “And this very morning I heard Zelus wants to push a version with spikes for sprinters.”

Myka objected, “But the thin soles!” Sole height was a major issue. The Deceit’s predecessor shoe, the Zelus Induct—which had also given runners a clear advantage—had been recognizable due to its oversized sole, packed with lightweight foam, that effectively lengthened a runner’s legs. The sole contained within the foam a carbon plate that acted as a spring, enabling a stride that used less leg energy and thus translated into distance runners having more kick over an entire race. AAI had rapidly banned that shoe, but the Deceit upped the ante because it somehow managed to do all the Induct’s dirty work, and apparently even more, in a standard-sized sole. Sprinters’ soles were basically flat, though, so how could the foam and plates fit? Not to mention: “Why would Zelus want to start a fight on another front?”

“Some other company rolls out skinny little cheat spikes first if Zelus doesn’t get on it? Old story about the toothpaste and the tube? You know.” Giselle shrugged. “All we can do is try to slow it down.”

“Ha!” Pete barked. “I see what you did there! Slow it down! Fast shoes!”

Giselle shook her head and murmured “that man” mostly to herself, but a little bit to Myka, who nodded in sympathy a commensurate little bit. Then Giselle said, “Thank sweet Jesus I don’t have to run in Deceits or against them. Glad I’m out of that part of it now.”

“I’m glad I was never in it,” Myka said.

“You know you got the discipline,” Giselle said. She’d told Myka this before.

It was a real compliment, but: “I don’t have the gift,” Myka responded, as she had in the past.

“Discipline counts. Makes up for a lot.”

“Those Deceits do too,” Myka said. “I barely even broke a sweat this morning.”

“That’s a shame.”

Myka offered a “huh?” expression, though she was pretty sure she knew what was coming.

“You, all hot and sweaty?” And Giselle sighed, a parody of infatuation. “Yes indeed...”

Myka rolled her eyes, and then they both laughed. It was a ritual: Giselle “flirted,” Myka “suffered,” they laughed.

*

Some months ago, not long after Giselle had been brought on board by AAI, she’d asked Myka out.

“I have a boyfriend,” Myka had said, because that was what she almost always said, as a learned reflex, in situations like that.

“Well,” Giselle said. “Look at me, getting the wrong impression. Sorry, Myka. Guess we’ll keep it professional.”

Giselle tended to put a drag on the last word of every sentence, a vocal habit that kept a listener hanging: would she say more? It might or might not have been intentional, but it was effective, particularly when combined with her linger of a Texas drawl. Thus her “professional” came out “pro... fess... io... nal.” Myka half-expected her to follow up with “or not.”

“Well,” Myka said back, when it became apparent that no more was in fact forthcoming, “not totally professional. We can still get coffee, right?” Because she did like Giselle.

Ah, there it was: Giselle gave her a still-flirty head toss and said, “Not to make the same mistake twice, but I did ‘get coffee’ with a lady one time and it turned into three days in Monaco. So we’ll see...”

Myka rolled her eyes, but then she laughed, and Giselle did too: the start of the ritual.

That should have been that.

But an international athletic governing body was apparently like every other semi-hermetically sealed social environment: a school, a team, a lab. Things got around. Mere hours after that conversation—which, granted, had taken place in the 40th-floor elevator lobby, the transit funnel for every employee of AAI, which occupied the entirety of that skyscraper level—Pete had marched back into their area from lunch and confronted Myka with, “I heard Giselle asked you out.”

Myka had tried not to respond, because really, what was there to say?

He went on, “And I heard you told her you have a boyfriend, which is what you said way back in history when I asked you out.”

“History? That was less than two years ago.”

“Anyway, I heard she believed you. Just like I did.”

“That was the idea. With her and with you.”

“I still don’t see why you didn’t just say ‘Pete, I don’t want to go out with you.’ It would’ve been fine.”

“I’d barely met you. I had no idea if you’d be a decent guy about it.”

“But I am a decent guy. About everything! So it would’ve been fine.”

“But I didn’t know you were a decent guy.” She had barely started at AAI; all she’d known about Pete Lattimer was that he’d been a decent decathlete. And that was no help at all, for every new coworker she met was a former Olympian or member of some national team or at least a famous ex-coach. It all made her feel as if she had no business working for the organization in the first place. They should have said that “athletic” was a requirement... each successive introduction seemed to drum with more force into her that a law degree and several languages were nothing against a sub-four mile.

Given that insecurity, she hadn’t needed any additional inputs or variables, so when Pete had said, “We should get dinner after work sometime,” she’d said what she almost always said, as a learned reflex, in situations like that. It had become a reflex because regardless of any other complicating circumstances—such as a new job where her body itself didn’t belong—it was easier. It was almost always easier than whatever might follow her saying anything else.

Pete said, “You didn’t know I was a decent guy, so you lied about having a boyfriend. And now you’ve lied about it again.”

She’d winced at the word “lied.” It was accurate, but she didn’t like it. Then you probably shouldn’t do it, her conscience told her. She told it to shut up. Then she told Pete, “I know that and you know that. Giselle doesn’t need to know that.”

“But you already like her better than you would’ve ever liked me.” At that, Myka started to protest, but he waved her off. “You know I mean because she’s a lady. Why didn’t you say you have a girlfriend?”

Speaking of what was easier: “boyfriend” was easier than “girlfriend.” It raised fewer questions, and it raised fewer... thoughts. And that was easier too.

It was supposed to raise fewer thoughts, anyway.

Fortunately, Pete hadn���t waited for an answer, or for Myka to start thinking any thoughts, instead moving on to what he clearly found most important: “And lady-wise, don’t you think she’s hot? I think she’s hot.”

Myka sighed. “Yes, I think she’s hot. In fact I know she’s hot. I have eyes.”

“So go out with her. She’s hot, you’re hot. Sizzle!”

“I just don’t want to.”

“Then why didn’t you go ahead and tell her that? Do you think she isn’t a decent guy?”

“Pretty sure she’s not a guy at all,” Myka had said, trying to joke him into just... stopping.

She didn’t want to get into the complicated conversation that would have ensued if she’d admitted to having genuinely, if fleetingly, regretted her reflex—because he certainly wasn’t wrong about Giselle being a woman, and he double-certainly wasn’t wrong about her looks. She was stunning; she’d had that wildly successful athletic career, then transitioned with seemingly no friction at all into modeling, at which she was even more wildly successful. Her legs were as long as the miles she used to run, and Myka was certainly, in that sense, human.

But Giselle had already developed a reputation at AAI, despite her brief tenure, for what could charitably be called a... short attention span. Maybe it was the inevitable result of her having been able to have just about anything—and anyone—she wanted, in not one but two elevated realms, or maybe it had always been Giselle’s personality as a romantic socializer, but while Myka had no trouble observing it from the outside, as a characteristic of her friend Giselle, she didn’t particularly want to be subjected to it. What if she slipped and overinvested? Exactly the kind of difficulty she didn’t need, regardless of any other complicating circumstances. Exactly the kind of difficulty she had never needed, and if she had slipped and fallen into it in the past? Well, that was the past, and she certainly didn’t need to revisit any part of that, much less repeat it.

These months later, however, some days Myka had a vague sense that a day should come when she should talk herself into telling Giselle she didn’t have a (nonexistent) boyfriend anymore. A day, that was to say, when she should ask for Giselle’s attention, if only for a short span. It seemed normal, human, to think that a short span of time, even if it led to a complicating slip and overinvestment, might—should?—be better than nothing, and so some days, Myka tried to want to talk herself into that.

But on different days, she’d think, definitively, I don’t want to. Because talking herself into it felt dishonest. Even if Giselle subscribed solely to Pete’s “she’s hot, you’re hot; sizzle” theory of the case, even if both of them might have enjoyed much of that short span of time: dishonest. Inauthentic. Deceitful.

“You’re not very good at having fun, are you?” Pete had asked her once, when she’d told him, in response to his sincere inquiry, that she had never actually dreamed of having Disneyland all to herself for a day. She’d agreed that no, she really wasn’t very good at having fun, and he’d said, “You need to get out more. Maybe not to Disney, but you need to get out more.”

You need to get out more. She’d laughed at him, because the most out she ever got, away from work, was for her 4am run. That, she could talk herself into without feeling dishonest at all. Far from it: she reveled in the discipline required for that strict self-persuasion every day, which was probably why she’d found that she could, ultimately, work well—reasonably well—with athletes. Athletics at its highest level was discipline, and Giselle and Pete and most of the others could see that Myka got that, even had that, as Giselle kept telling her.

But as Myka always told Giselle in return (not that Giselle needed telling), for real athletes, that discipline had to be kissed by the divine, and Myka had no access to such physical divinity. None at all. She was an exercise runner, lowest of the low in terms of athletic esteem. She knew because that was how the athletes said it, with a twist of pity: exercise runner. That was what she was, and she knew it.

Until she ran in the Deceits.

They were named, of course, for their unassuming look and for the illicit advantage they gave the world-class athletes. But for Myka-the-unesteemed, they were differently deceptive: they made her feel like A Runner. Giselle and her peers had been born with the kind of legs these shoes changed Myka’s into, springing from the ground with power, creating a feeling of “this is my body; this is what it can do, and if I push, still more,” and miraculously—deceptively—there was still more it could be pushed to do. Myka felt like her body before the Deceits had been Clark Kent, like it had been waiting for the chance to reveal that it wore the suit and had superpowers, like this had always been how she could run.

It wasn’t real. But it felt real.

So she understood why Deceits were breaking records—speed records now, but eventually, they would break sales records, too.

She also understood, very clearly, that they should be banned.

Even for exercise runners like her: deceiving oneself, Myka felt, was worse than deceiving others, regardless of whether they were fellow competitors or the outside world in general. Just as she didn’t want to talk herself into Giselle, she didn’t want to run every morning in those shoes. If she did, that self-deception would become a habit of mind, and Myka deep-knew that being clear-eyed about oneself was essential. A moral duty, her inner rector told her, and even though she would probably have been happier to not live her life quite that ramrod-straight (to, for example, be better at having fun), it had been her thought as she’d begun that first run in the Deceits. She’d kept on thinking it, throughout her entire route, as she devoured the miles with her newly athletic strides. Clear-eyed, mor-al, du-ty. Right-left, right-left, right-left.

*

Administratively, the world of athletics moved at a speed inverse to that of the track. The relatively “rapid” ban of the Deceit’s predecessor had taken six months to work out and implement, so it was no surprise that several weeks elapsed before AAI even scheduled negotiations with Zelus reps over the new shoes. They would be delicate, the negotiations, for Zelus money was essential to the sport. It was imperative not to make any penalties too prohibitive or too “insulting” to the company or its affiliates. Could already-ratified world records set in Deceits be voided? Would that lead to Zelus-sponsored athletes boycotting competitions? Could Deceits be banned? Would that be at all enforceable?

Myka knew that Dan Badger, the president and CEO of AAI, would be scrutinizing everything she and Pete and their team proposed. Newly appointed to show that AAI was turning a regulatory corner, he had made clear that his watchword was “integrity,” and that applied not only to the sport as a whole, but to every athlete who participated in it, every piece of equipment they touched, every employee under his purview, every official action they took. Unofficial actions, too: there was, as far as Myka could tell, no ethical give in Badger’s worldview. Where prior heads might have made a handshake deal of some sort with Zelus’s own CEO with regard to the Deceits—and Myka suspected something along those lines had occurred for the Inducts, most likely involving a wink-nod to the already-in-the-pipelines Deceits—Badger would have considered the mere suggestion of such a thing a personal affront.

“Why doesn’t Badge like you more?” Pete once asked Myka. “You’re exactly like him.” Myka wasn’t, in fact, exactly like him, for Badger was an athlete’s athlete, a hurdling champion from a decades-ago golden age of British track and field. That gilded aura was a carapace around him, deflecting whatever might have been directed his way from beings he considered lesser, including nonathletes like Myka. It wasn’t actively insulting or cruel, just... clear. The athletes called him “Badge,” among themselves and to his face, while Myka had the sense that if she uttered that collegial syllable, no one, and certainly not the man himself, would even perceive that any sound had escaped her lips.

Pete wasn’t entirely wrong, though; Myka had enough consonance with Badger that she couldn’t quite bring herself to resent him. His absolutely unimpeachable reputation was supplemented by the fact that he looked exactly as an athletic lion of his age and era should: face appropriately tanned for health and creased for character, hair silver and full, height calibrated as if to the millimeter to be imposing but not incongruous. He was the ideal figurehead for an organization that wanted to burnish its standing as a virtuous guardian of all that was competitively good in athletics.

In the end, Myka’s own inclinations aligned with her need to fulfill Badger’s expectations, yet neither she nor he could change the underlying economics of the sport. She might have been moved, under other circumstances, to restore her single-run-sullied Deceits to their silver Zelus box and push that box to the back of her closet, but instead she spent an inordinate amount of time looking at them. Was there any way at all to tell, just by looking, that they could do what they did?

Enforcement was a matter of measurement and testing, but these shoes were a drug for which no test existed. AAI had hired a group of materials engineers to take them apart, so Myka now knew how they did what they did: even newer foam, plus two carbon plates, set at angles to each other. They really might as well have been springs—invisible to the outside-shoe naked eye, but springs all the same.

AAI could nominally ban double-plate soles, but it couldn’t possibly dismantle every Zelus runner’s footwear at every event to ensure that the ban was being respected. Myka saw no way out other than to ban Zelus shoes across the board (for she’d been thinking, too, of what Giselle had said about spikes), but that brought her back to financial impossibility. And around she went again. And again. And again.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the rest of athletics administration proceeded without heed for Deceits, no matter how long Myka stared at them, no matter how many negotiating scenarios she tried, unfruitfully, to game out. Meets and championships and trials all continued, requiring level upon level of authorization and accompanying paperwork...

One morning, Myka was concentrating, squint-eyed, on a spreadsheet when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Pete,” she began, still squinting at her screen, “I told you if I don’t approve the new certification tables for posting this morning—”

“I’m so sorry,” said an English-accented female voice, “but I’m not Pete. And I seem to be lost.”

Myka looked up. No, you’re not, was her first thought, which resolved into: You’re not Pete, and you’re not lost. You belong right here.

TBC

*

A few notes, just because:

I made up the governing body; it’s intended to be vaguely like the real organization World Athletics (formerly IAAF), which determines what’s allowable in track and field competition, but I’m not trying to replicate its structure at all. Further, the actual organization maintains that it doesn’t consult with shoe companies before making regulatory decisions... whether you believe that claim is of course entirely up to you.

Two passages from Freud’s Civilization and Its Discontents are in some sense guiding my thinking here (because I’m like that). The first is this: “Man has, as it were, become a kind of prosthetic God. When he puts on all his auxiliary organs he is truly magnificent; but these organs have not grown on to him and they still give him much trouble at times.” He’s talking about cars and eyeglasses and such things, but obviously the idea is applicable to athletic tech. An idea from a little earlier in the book seems relevant as well: “What we call happiness in the strictest sense comes from the (preferably sudden) satisfaction of needs which have been dammed up to a high degree, and it is from its nature only possible as an episodic phenomenon.” Right? We’ll see about that latter part though, Dr. Freud.

Finally, as that rude anon suggested some months ago, I’m obviously speaking to a community that’s mostly inactive now. But I’m a keeper of faith: one of the things I do best is wait. So one point of this story is that it exists. I’m waiting. C’mon and wait with me, if you like.

[flowerbeom]

Updated: 17/02/2021 Requests: Closed

Latest works: → Intentions → Make A Wish → Untitled | 02

Upcoming: → Professor Park | PJY → If I Have You | LJB 

© flowerbeom 2021; do not steal, translate, or repost my work.

svt masterlist | ko.fi

→ Drabble Game Masterlist  → Useless Headcannons  → Mini Masterlist: idol + place + “hard” or “soft”  → GOT7: As Decades → GOT7: The Songs They’d Make Love To 

O N E  S H O T S

→ Tension (M) → Idol!JB, Established Relationship, Smut, Angsty smut.

When you punish him you ruining your plans once again, he seeks forgiveness in the most sinful ways possible. Making you count each time

→ To You, A Love Letter → Fluff

Jinyoung asks how Jaebeom met you and he reminisces.

→ Call My Name  → Idol!JB, Angst, Post Break-Up AU

The midnight blue of his suit had soaked through to black, almost as dark as the circles around his eyes; his body shivering from his heartache. He could not feel the cold. He didn’t even know that it was raining. And still, he reached for your hand. 

→ Double Pepperoni (M) → College AU, Crackhead Comedy Smut

to: cassandra.l@unisk.edu.com hey cass, its me. your best friend. or what’s left of her. remember that kinda hot but kinda gross pizza delivery guy? the one with the nose ring and always smelt of cheetos? yeh, he’s looking less gross these days. what?! don’t judge me. desperate times call for desperate measures. it has been 154 days since i’ve had sex. shit’s dire here man.

→ Untitled | 01 → Soft Angst

He would give her everything, anything, to have her smile.

→ Untitled | 02 → Fluff, idol!verse

He always gave his all, all to her behest. 

→ Make A Wish → Fluff / Established Relationship 

When a late night at work ruined your plans to surprise him, Jaebeom proves that love is all that matters 

S E R I E S 

→ Go For Broke - fuckboy!AU (ongoing) ↳ Series Index ↳ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 →

Tight skirt, tight ass and fingers tight around his bicep, she had followed him around like a lost kitten looking for a warm bed; preferably his. So much so that she dropped top dollar on top shelf liquor for him. And so, like any good man, Jaebeom took her in.

→ What I Wouldn’t Give - stylist!AU ↳ Part 1: The Right Fit ↳ Part 2: The Wrap Party ↳ Part 3: Home

A story where a heartsick, pining and ‘hopelessly in love with his stylist’ Jaebeom finds himself in an awkward situation in the house of the stylist who’s equally heart sick and hopelessly in love with him. But neither of them know… yet.

I M A G I N E S

→ Good Morning, Welcome to JYP

Imagine, Jaebeom slowly falling for the receptionist at the JYP practice building, and the way she always smiles sweetly at him when he and the rest of the guys enter to rehearse. 

W R I T T E N  F O R . . . 

→ A Birthday Gift  → Always Have → Three In Thirty Six → Drive Straight

G I F B L U R B S  /  B I T S & P I E C E S

→ Let Me Hold You → You Look Like A Douchebag

O N E  S H O T S 

→ Sweeter Than Pi → HighSchool AU, F2L, Fluff

Your place on the softball team rested on the back of you passing your General Maths midterm. Though Maths was always your worst subject, your genius best friend, Mark, could offer assistance in helping you study. If you could bring yourself and your heart to ask him… 

O N E  S H O T S

G I F  B L U R B S

Come on, just smile! Subtle

O N E  S H O T S 

→ Eager - (M)(F) → Idol!Jinyoung, Established relationship, Fluffy Smut 

Disappointed in missing his chance the night before, he wasn’t going to wait until after breakfast to have his favourite meal. 

→ Intentions (M) → Smut-ish. Semi-Acquaintances. A crap load of unresolved sexual tension. 

What was that thing he said? That thing he said that got you there? There with his mouth on yours. In that empty room of that house party with a bunch of friends of friends just outside the door. Must’ve been good… 

→ Professor Park - (M) → Coming Soon

‘Professor Park’ aka Park Jinyoung aka bane of your existance. Professor Park, the thorn in your side since middle school. Mr Perfect. Tutors for a fee, 100% passmark guarantee. Pretentious prick. And with graduation finally on the horizon, of course you had to be randomly assigned to work together on your final assignment. Fuck him, that’s all you had to say…

G I F  B L U R B S

→ Winking makes you manly

N/A

N/A

N/A

[punkscowardschampions]

Sick Kids

gotspoons: [A chatroom/forum situation for teens with invisible illnesses/disabilities, a resource that is recommended when you can't go to IRL groups for your health/they aren't in your area etc] gotspoons: Ticked one whole thing off my to-do list today, feeling like a champ 💪 also feeling like a 2-hour long nap, who here relates? 🥱 tigerbalm: 🖐 took my nap earlier & yet 😴💤 brainpain: 💕🛏 brainpain: long lasting relationship with my memory foam mattress gotspoons: There is NO limit on the number of naps necessary to make it through the day tigerbalm: or the number of abandoned to-do lists, what was your 1 thing? gotspoons: 🚿 looks like breakfast will have to wait tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: @brainpain I have so many memory foam pillows in every room of my house I'm basically a shareholder 🙌 brainpain: @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously same but I've got my fave, I call him Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👏🙏 thank you for your service, Edgar tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: must name mine, only named the chariot 🦼 Charlton gotspoons: [ihatemyguts has entered the chat] gotspoons: A newbie, welcome! tigerbalm: 👋 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: love the username, what ails ya? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: because this is the only place it's acceptable to ask 'what's WRONG with you?' but not the only place you encounter it, right brainpain: but you don't have to answer cos it's also somewhere where you're encouraged to 'express yourself' translation: be an arsehole if you want brainpain: if you don't go hardcore enough to get blocked brainpain: @fibrofog LMAO tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: the normies get to be rude as their default, and it is NOT encouraged to hit people with your cane, let me tell you ihatemyguts: Hi, everyone ihatemyguts: I'll do my best not to be an arsehole, even if my problem only lie directly above said orifice, which makes it a struggle not to be at times ihatemyguts: UC, first flare totally fucked over the family holiday 😬 sorry to that hotel toilet and my long-suffering parents and brother brainpain: newbie got jokes AND comedy timing ihatemyguts: 🚽 humour isn't all I have, I swear, though my life now does revolve entirely around the porcelain throne so it's no surprise I'm anally expulsive, thanks to Freud for that read tigerbalm: Freud's the perv, am I right? ihatemyguts: Totally ihatemyguts: and a big believer in the cocaine cure-all, which my Doctor just wasn't going for, shame tigerbalm: sounds like my sleazy uncle in every way tigerbalm: why does everybody get one? gotspoons: 😂 This chat is worth keeping my eyes open for gotspoons: every family is a play, and we're destined to be the 'sick kid' part gotspoons: other players react accordingly, from the 'can't look at you without crying' to the 'thinks you're making it up for some reason' brainpain: I vote we all go off script like @fibrofog 🤬🚨👿❗️ ihatemyguts: I guess I'm lucky in the sense that if anyone doubts the legitimacy of my illness, I can offer to show them the contents of my stomach/toilet bowl ihatemyguts: that shuts them up relatively fast, not had to go full 🐒 and throw it at anyone yet ihatemyguts: though I'm intrigued by the infamous @fibrofog, who are they, where, and why the infamy? Fill a girl in brainpain: the myth, the legend brainpain: so angry cos I turned 'em down for a romantic rendezvous ihatemyguts: No way! ihatemyguts: I'm glad that napping isn't the only action the memory foam is getting ihatemyguts: we're just like any other teens, right guys? 💁 tigerbalm: @brainpain you know the rules, fedora pics or it didn't happen! tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: you know what they say about disabled chicks, grateful 😉 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: #dontkillmeladies #iamnotasleazyuncle tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: don't think Mr. Fog was even a legit 🥄 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: total predator tigerbalm: if it was my uncle I'm SO sorry 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: family who piggyback are THE worst tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: no, MY disability doesn't make YOU automatically WOKE for not drowning me in the tub or throwing me off the nearest high place I can access ihatemyguts: Honestly, I've never felt as simultaneously popular and unpopular in my life ihatemyguts: people 💬 a big acceptance game on the socials ihatemyguts: but no one wants to actually hang with the girl who can't eat shit and will spend half her time in the 🚽 gotspoons: Everyone's supportive until your disability gets in the way of THEIR perfect life even slightly gotspoons: imagine if they were one of us 👽 brainpain: speak for yourselves, my slurred speech makes me a hit with all my hard partying peers brainpain: get weird without a 🍹 ihatemyguts: hey man, don't let us drag you down 😎 ihatemyguts: if @fibrofog was feeling you, you're WAY too cool for this chat right now brainpain: never have, never will, baby 😉 brainpain: [inandout has entered the chat] gotspoons: OH MY GOD, that's a whole different story...my parents = you need to socialize more, live life! my parents = I don't know if this group is good for you, we think you're being encouraged to display and give in to even more problems gotspoons: thanks guys, you're literally making me more disabled with your disabledness 😂 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It is a cult, well-known fact, leave your productiveness to society at the door and let's all lie here and feel sorry for ourselves, doesn't that sound like fun, kids? 😈 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and 👋 sup, inandout, not seen you in a while tigerbalm: my parents act like y'all are catching too! Would you like to cage me like a legit 🐅 or? inandout: baited breath inandout: out living that life like @gotspoons parents want tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It'll be the Olympics next tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🥇 Hero status with the normies, inspirational, dude inandout: if it'll make adults I've never met proud of me ihatemyguts: I can't believe I've not checked if I'm disabled enough for the paras, oh my God ihatemyguts: are there enough of us for a basketball team? brainpain: if ONLY my former lover were here brainpain: he's gotta be so tall ihatemyguts: Pining for @fibrofog is productive, yeah? ihatemyguts: can pine from my throne just fine brainpain: hands off newbie! I will throw mine brainpain: LOL imagine gotspoons: This group has always had a bias towards too many girls gotspoons: it's almost as if even disabled boys don't wanna talk about their feelings gotspoons: what say you @tooexhaustedtolivevicariously and @inandout? 🤔🤴🤴 inandout: I'd bring friends but you know us CF kids aren't allowed to congregate inandout: and what could I possibly have in common with someone who doesn't share my disease ihatemyguts: So, what is the deal with that, are some of us catching? ihatemyguts: 🐅 parents might have legit concerns inandout: cross infectious but only if you've got what's got me inandout: none of you do so you'll need another reason to turn down hanging out in person tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: my fedora is in the wash? inandout: Fibro could easily say it's my jewishness brainpain: but it's your hunkiness, babe 💪😉 inandout: I'd whistle back at you, Lauren but.... inandout: let's just say you leave me breathless tigerbalm: No names, Zach tigerbalm: it's like a rule ihatemyguts: uh-oh ihatemyguts: if you had a name, Tiger, in theory, like ihatemyguts: 🧐 tigerbalm: Robyn ihatemyguts: Pretty, you others may as well just come out with it now ihatemyguts: even if I'm a massive perv with mad hacking and tracking skills, I pinky promise I won't be able to find you from your given name alone brainpain: give us yours, newbie ihatemyguts: I will, but you'll think I'm giving you a fake one ihatemyguts: it's the gift and curse bestowed upon me at birth, along with potentially dodgy genetics brainpain: your life is 💩 brainpain: but still ihatemyguts: Zelda ihatemyguts: a reference I'm sure you won't get, 'cos you're so 😎 brainpain: I game, the stream was fibros fave hunting ground brainpain: no 💩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Turns out being a nerd is way easy from the relative (barely but beats death, yeah?) comfort of the memory foam tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and Rich 👍 only in name, destitute until my next pittance comes in tigerbalm: she's not supposed to 🎮 -headaches -dizziness -light & sound sensitivity but she's a REBEL brainpain: 👌 MOM maybe I'd love a seizure, what do you know? ihatemyguts: I respect it ihatemyguts: gonna be fondly reminiscing over all those dirty, evil trigger foods when they're resecting my bowel 🖕🚔 brainpain: I had a life before I had a TBI, no offense to 👶 Zach inandout: none taken gotspoons: You're all being bad and I cannot support it 🤐😜 gotspoons: and I'm Rosie, I will just 😴 out on you all the time and yes, it's a fantastic excuse for when you don't wanna respond ihatemyguts: I'll commit all of those to memory in a normal, non-creepy manner ihatemyguts: but whilst I'm allowed to be a n00b, what do you all do for school? brainpain: I was nearly done before 🤯 which got me my pity pass ihatemyguts: pity with a point, at least, alright tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm waiting to start uni, absolutely no thanks to my school and their totally ableist refusal to make reasonable adjustments for accessibility tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but fedora or not, I can be a real arsehole, a loud, persistent one at that tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: take my applause now brainpain: 😍 brainpain: take my 💘 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: as long as it's not heavy, m'lady brainpain: you could 💔 brainpain: hold the pieces tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 🧠 just isn't poetic enough brainpain: you know me gotspoons: you guys are so cute 🥰 and your broken brain is beautiful, Lauren gotspoons: me though, I'm barely struggling through school still, so many sick days, so much catching up to do 🥱 just thinking about it and therein lies the problem tigerbalm: my parents are trying to get online classes set up but my headteacher is like a million years old inandout: is he a demon? inandout: that was some scary fiction brainpain: or was it? brainpain: cue up those sound effects tigerbalm: if we're gonna talk about hypnosis, I'm out ihatemyguts: that was some serious creepy uncle vibes ihatemyguts: why did he need that level of control ihatemyguts: 🐘 in the room tigerbalm: I have a hippie cousin too, alternative therapy talk is so triggering ihatemyguts: I need a memoir re. your family sitch immediately 😂 ihatemyguts: you get the food purists coming @ me as if I just eat the right thing I'd be 'cured' tigerbalm: I'm working on a screenplay but I've never written a script before, I did find an online class for that easily though ihatemyguts: that's actually 😎 ihatemyguts: soz, Lauren brainpain: she's our lil busy 🐝 brainpain: step your game up, Zachary brainpain: supposed to be you, bro inandout: let Robbie have it, she has more sick days to fill up ihatemyguts: always have your 🥇 inandout: I can pin it on like a star when I got to school with the masses inandout: let them know I'm not what normal looks like ihatemyguts: only the others like you need to have the scoop on that though ihatemyguts: really fucks with the segregation in a big way inandout: “I feel like someone breathed new air into my lungs. I am not Abnegation. I am not Dauntless. I am Divergent.” ihatemyguts: Tattoo idea inandout: if I make it to 18, I'll do it ihatemyguts: how long you given yourself there? inandout: I turned 14 in may, the party was a full blown rager inandout: 🏥🎂 ihatemyguts: you like ruining events too? ihatemyguts: what a coincidence, don't just do family holidays inandout: if I can't blow up 🎈 nobody can ihatemyguts: 🥳 smug bastard inandout: I find that party blower offensive inandout: Rosie! That's a strike for the new girl ihatemyguts: Come to me when it's as culturally iconic as 💩 ihatemyguts: my next (first) tattoo right there inandout: how long are you waiting for that masterpiece? ihatemyguts: was 14 in March ihatemyguts: if we both make it, it's a date inandout: cool inandout: way I'm going that'll be my first one brainpain: now I feel like a pervy OLD uncle brainpain: thank you 👶s ihatemyguts: Lemme guess? ihatemyguts: I'm thinking 19 brainpain: spooky brainpain: I'm an Aquarius if anyone cares ihatemyguts: our 🌟s aligning might be too close to alternative for comfort tigerbalm: I'm a cancer, which is awkward tigerbalm: not my diagnosis ihatemyguts: at least it's memorable ihatemyguts: literally tacked on at the end, who's remembering 🎣 tigerbalm: I hope my 16th will be, for the right reasons tigerbalm: I've still got 5 months left to plan ihatemyguts: 🤞🤞🤞 tigerbalm: I'll add your name, the others know they're all invited ihatemyguts: that's so nice ihatemyguts: considering this introduction has given away nothing if not I am a terrible guest brainpain: another chat about online safety, Robyn, REALLY? 😏 brainpain: did my failed romance teach you nothing? ihatemyguts: if that isn't a challenge to send a photo and make you feel really weird ihatemyguts: why are we anon anyway, to stop us uprising? ihatemyguts: metaphorically if not literally, no offense xoxo brainpain: f it brainpain: I need you all to sign up to my stream to pay my bills anyways brainpain: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: @fibrofog, I get it brainpain: don't flock to tell me how sexy I am, that'd make it weird brainpain: plus, I know tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I picked an awkward time to check back in tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Rosie falls asleep and anarchy reigns? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'm proud brainpain: 💔 YOU haven't showered me with compliments, but hey tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: if I made it that easy you'd never be 💘 brainpain: 😩 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: to save any of the rest of you following such a hard act tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: [pic] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it's old but still a rough estimation of what I look like on a good day brainpain: 😍 brainpain: You're up, girl Z ihatemyguts: if you're all good looking though, I'm so mad ihatemyguts: [a selfie] ihatemyguts: 💩 inandout: I'm not good looking, I'll go next inandout: besides, Robbie would never bow to peer pressure and Rosie is out for the count inandout: [a selfie] tigerbalm: I am 🙀 tigerbalm: but everyone else has tigerbalm: [the shyest selfie of all time] ihatemyguts: 😻😻😻 ihatemyguts: seriously ihatemyguts: representation done us dirty on so many levels now ihatemyguts: when we're not invisible, why we not so gorgeous tigerbalm: there should be a blushing 😸 tigerbalm: that's the representation I need ihatemyguts: Call me out all you need but I was convinced this whole thing would be a lot more tragic than it has been inandout: tragic Tuesdays are a thing brainpain: no they are f-ing not brainpain: Zachary, just cos the new girl's in your age bracket + shares your 1st initial brainpain: she is not corruptible to you inandout: check us on our date, Lauren inandout: but watch your profanity brainpain: watch me give you a DIY lung transplant gotspoons: Excuse me gotspoons: what is going on here brainpain: nothing babe, it's all a dream gotspoons: 😖 gotspoons: if it was, none of you would be here gotspoons: sorry to say brainpain: we love you too brainpain: hit us with that sleepy selfie gotspoons: You know we aren't meant to give out personal info in the public forum gotspoons: if you choose to privately, that's okay though gotspoons: also I don't look any better for my shower now 🥴🤫 brainpain: you're a hottie gotspoons: 😘 gotspoons: well, my blog IS going to be featured on [insert disability awareness news moment] next month, so it isn't as if you couldn't find 🖼 if you really wanted gotspoons: [photo] tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Congrats, Ro tigerbalm: a genuine 👏👏👏 tigerbalm: I love your blog gotspoons: Ty, ty 🙇 gotspoons: it's the same as my username, if you wanna check it out, newbie 😄 brainpain: but have you been on the news for being the victim of a violent crime? 😏 just me LOL inandout: Lauren's trading on her fame again inandout: let Rosie have her moment ihatemyguts: pass along all relevant info and I'll 🤓 right up brainpain: @inandout 🍒😃💩👅 brainpain: enjoy the profanity, bro inandout: today's highlight tigerbalm: Zelda could take offence at that, Zach tigerbalm: I think it was nice to meet her ihatemyguts: Not at all ihatemyguts: though it's cultural appropriation to use that emoji without my permission, I'll let it slide 😉 ihatemyguts: nice meeting you all too tigerbalm: I really am gonna have to tell you about my family now ihatemyguts: All I wanted, tbh tigerbalm: everyone else knows this but my parents are white Americans & they adopted me and my brothers who are Native and African American respectively tigerbalm: & you saw me, the Korean girl so ihatemyguts: Ohh tigerbalm: it sounds like a show that should air on ABC family, right? tigerbalm: hella awkward ihatemyguts: I'm brainstorming (p. sure we're not meant to say that, soz) titles rn ihatemyguts: inappropriate question alert, verbal smackdowns appreciated if needed ihatemyguts: did they adopt you knowing you were disabled or is that a new development? tigerbalm: I was gonna call it building bridges but we can't really say that the USA has wronged Korea like the other nations tigerbalm: though they did adopt me knowing so maybe it still works 😄 ihatemyguts: it's got legs tigerbalm: 🦿 ihatemyguts: Ugh, must dash ihatemyguts: 🩸💉s tigerbalm: best of luck ihatemyguts: 💕 total pro by now 💪 brainpain: if I don't 👀 you on my stream I'll 🔎 you here in the forums inandout: a threatening goodbye inandout: can't compete tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👋 Hope to see you back here, Zelda tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: though you wouldn't be the first person to 👻 after dropping in, so no pressure, @Lauren gotspoons: but actually, we're always here, some of us more than others, but you'll always find someone to chat to about the things you can't with non-spoonies ihatemyguts: ✌

[anniekoh]

elsewhere on the internet: talking about racism

This set of articles has been languishing at the back of the queue for three years! 

Political Correctness Wanted Dead or Alive: A Rhetorical Witch-Hunt in the US, Russia, and Europe

Anna Szilagyi (2016, Talk Decoded)

Possibly the most common way of attacking political correctness, is to label it “tyrannical”. Covert speech strategies may also support this construction. For instance, anti-PC politicians often utilize adjectives for fear (including “afraid”, “frightened”, “scared”, “terrified”) to describe how PC affects the behavior and feelings of people. The former leader of the UK Independence Party, Nigel Farage claimed: “I think actually what’s been happening with this whole politically correct agenda is lots of decent ordinary people are losing their jobs and paying the price for us being terrified of causing offence.” Suggesting that the British are “terrified” because of political correctness, Farage urged his listeners to think of PC in terms of intimidation.

At the same time, the fearsome vocabulary provides a background for anti-PC populists to present themselves as “brave” and “courageous” “saviors” of their “victimized” societies. The next quote by Nigel Farage exemplifies this trend: “I think the people see us as actually standing up and saying what we think, not being constrained or scared by political correctness.” In a similar fashion, Geert Wilders  declared: “I will not allow anyone to shut me up.”

Why White People Freak Out When They’re Called Out About Race

Sam Adler-Bell (2015, Alternet) @SamAdlerBell

Sam Adler-Bell: How did you come to write about "white fragility"?

Robin DiAngelo: To be honest, I wanted to take it on because it’s a frustrating dynamic that I encounter a lot. I don’t have a lot of patience for it. And I wanted to put a mirror to it.

I do atypical work for a white person, which is that I lead primarily white audiences in discussions on race every day, in workshops all over the country. That has allowed me to observe very predictable patterns. And one of those patterns is this inability to tolerate any kind of challenge to our racial reality. We shut down or lash out or in whatever way possible block any reflection from taking place.

Of course, it functions as means of resistance, but I think it’s also useful to think about it as fragility, as inability to handle the stress of conversations about race and racism

Sometimes it’s strategic, a very intentional push back and rebuttal. But a lot of the time, the person simply cannot function. They regress into an emotional state that prevents anybody from moving forward.

...

RD: I think we get tired of certain terms. What I do used to be called "diversity training," then "cultural competency" and now, "anti-racism." These terms are really useful for periods of time, but then they get coopted, and people build all this baggage around them, and you have to come up with new terms or else people won’t engage.

And I think "white privilege" has reached that point. It rocked my world when I first really got it, when I came across Peggy McIntosh. It’s a really powerful start for people. But unfortunately it's been played so much now that it turns people off.

The Language of “Privilege” Doesn’t Work

Stephen Aguilar (2016, Inside Higher Ed) @stephenaguilar

I believe that “privilege” is a sterile word that does not grapple with the core of the problem. If you are white, you do not have “white” privilege. If you are male, you do not have “male” privilege. If you are straight, you do not have “straight” privilege. What you have is advantage. The language of advantage, I propose, is a much cleaner and more precise way to frame discussions about racism (or sexism, or most systems of oppression).

... does giving up a “privilege” seem incoherent? It might, because generally privileges are given and taken by someone else. They are earned, and are seldom bad things to have.

Now try shifting your language to that of advantages. Ask yourself, “What advantages do I have over that person over there?” That question is much easier to answer and yields more nuanced responses.

Kimberlé Crenshaw on intersectionality

Bim Adewunmi (2014, New Statesman) @bimadewunmi

“I wanted to come up with an everyday metaphor that anyone could use”

“Class is not new and race is not new. And we still continue to contest and talk about it, so what’s so unusual about intersectionality not being new and therefore that’s not a reason to talk about it? Intersectionality draws attention to invisibilities that exist in feminism, in anti-racism, in class politics, so obviously it takes a lot of work to consistently challenge ourselves to be attentive to aspects of power that we don’t ourselves experience.”

...

“Sometimes it feels like those in power frame themselves as being tremendously disempowered by critique. A critique of one’s voice isn’t taking it away. If the underlying assumption behind the category ‘women’ or ‘feminist’ is that we are a coalition then there have to be coalitional practices and some form of accountability.”

The Persecution of Amy Schumer: Political Correctness and Comedy

Teo Bugbee (2015, Daily Beast)

We have developed highly advanced ways of recognizing and articulating when we feel offended, but very few ways of making something productive out of our own hurt feelings.

I’ve questioned if my choice to overlook what’s hurtful in Schumer’s comedy for the sake of what’s insightful is a sign that I’m complicit in the faults of white feminism, not valuing the importance of others’ feelings on this matter enough. This argument of apathy gets used often on social media to raise awareness around issues of race, sex, gender, and other topics surrounding justice and a need for change, and it is often useful, but it can also be a blunt instrument. Where I’ve landed for the moment is that not all marginalized people feel the same way about every issue—even on social media, but especially outside it—and asking everyone to respond in the same way to the same joke takes a simplistic view that flattens the complexity of marginalized communities just as much as it does the white, cisgender mainstream.

However, if we’re going to ask audiences to keep in mind the multiplicity of responses that a person might have to a work of art before they attempt to control someone else’s opinion, then it’s only fair that comedians follow the same rule.

What’s Wrong (and Right) in Jonathan Chait’s Anti-P.C. Screed

J. Bryan Lowder (2015, Slate)

One of the main problems with the constellation of leftist ideas he bemoans is that many of the people who use them most loudly do so out of context. Concepts like “microaggressions,” “trigger warnings,” and “mansplaining” originally had specific meanings and limited uses, often within the academy. They described or were meant to address specific situations or phenomena, and more important, they were intended to function as diagnostic tools of analysis, not be used as blunt, conversation-ending instruments. Believe it or not, most of these “PC buzzwords” are actually useful from time to time:  “Straightsplaining” is a real (and very annoying) thing, and it’s often a productive way of thinking about an interaction. But it’s also not always a useful or fair way to characterize a disagreement between a queer person and a straight interlocutor. Precision is what’s needed.

Additionally, though it is impossible to say this without sounding condescending myself, a lot of the abuse of PC rhetoric comes from young college students who have not yet grasped the difference between a measuring tape and a sledgehammer. Of course, given that contemporary mainstream politics offers little for those hopeful souls who want to make truly radical change in the world, you can’t really blame them for gravitating toward a mode of critique that at least feels somewhat empowering. Here, first-year, is a framework by which you can reveal the (screwed-up) hidden structures of the world and use your newly honed textual close-reading skills to mount offenses against those structures—go for it. What works on a novel doesn’t necessary translate to a complicated, changeable human being, though, so it’s no surprise that the deployment of microaggression and cissexism and other social justice lingo can sometimes come off as strident and simplistic. It often is.

But then, so is crying that only Reason can save us from the illiberal wolves waiting in the wings of our great system, which has a “glorious” history on social justice, by the way.

Want To Help End Systemic Racism? First Step: Drop the White Guilt

Sincere Kirabo (2015, thehumanist)

The point of identifying and exposing inconsistencies within the social systems and cultural norms of the United States isn’t to make whites feel guilty, but to garner greater empathy that will inspire change. The main problem with white guilt is that it attempts to diminish the spotlight aimed at issues germane to marginalized groups and redirects the focus to a wasteful plane of apologetics and ineffective assessment.

This is why some don’t like discussing racism, as those more sensitive to these matters sometimes allow guilt to creep into their thought processes, effectively evoking pangs of discomfort. This can lead to avoidance of the primary issues altogether, as well as the manifestation of defense mechanisms, including denial, projection, intellectualization, and rationalization.

Many are acquainted with the concept of Catholic guilt. Catholic doctrine emphasizes the inherent sinfulness of all people. These accentuated notions of fault lead to varied degrees of enhanced self-loathing. I liken white guilt to Catholic guilt: both relate to a sense of inadequacy emanating from misguided notions. Though the latter is anchored in an imagined source, they both speak to feelings of remorse and internal conflict that does the individual having them no good.

Keep in mind that the call to “recognize your privilege” does not translate to “bear the blame.”

[hugotontheonbiquiffinarians]

Arthur & The Myth of Sisyphus

(Arthur/staircase juxtaposed to Sisyphus/rock)

As disclaimer, this may be a generalised statement/inductive analysis, not unique to his diegesis. Will probably be too verbose for some to read, but writing is organic as breathing for me and if I don’t discuss my beautiful clown husband at length, I might very well be caught with a bruised and desiccated lung lol (as you can probably tell, academia is hæmorrhaging into my casual diction)

I’m typing this, more or less, to illustrate my (possibly exhausted) perspective on how significant the staircase is to Arthur’s narrative. Specifically focusing on how it relates to Sisyphus and his eternal struggle to push a cumbersome stone uphill. (Says this all the while knowing I’ll lose said focus by the end of this, oops) That being said, this also just might be some cathartic release in the form of diluted research.

All things considered, with an economy that appears to teeter just so on the verge of instability, most, if not all, may resonate with the impending sense of futility that accompanies society’s defective concept and subsequent flawed execution of ‘adulthood’, including, but not limited to: excessive demands imposed by draconian academia, 9-5 corporate mandates exercised to excess; in addition to parenthood (if applicable). All for the sake of feeding continued survival in a universe where life is erroneously scrutinised under myopic scope of legality. Summarily, we can all embrace solidarity in our respective sharing of adversity, attended by a seemingly endless, merciless journey towards acceptance.

Arthur is my most current muse within the fictional realm (irreplaceable, to boot) so this character study might be more gratuitous than enlightening, but, in essence, I often like to conceive him as a resounding echo that’s effectively sound in giving voice to the voiceless; whispered and indistinct though it may be. However, it could be said that the power of his presence resides, not in the delicate, understated nuance of his vocal tone, but rather the elegant and passionate language of dance pronounced by his feet. Namely, the Sisyphean task of climbing that emblematic staircase.

Whether suffering a daily, if not arduous, ascent one derelict step at a time, or dancing a rhythmic descent to liberation, Arthur’s soles bespeak of a soul that’s been tormented relentlessly throughout the near 40 year span of his existence. Heels throbbing with Weltschmerz, the resulting ache of his travails would often appear as little more than a numbing nuisance to be rubbed away upon a less whimsical return as the prodigal son. In this way, the audience might compare Penny’s impact in Arthur’s life to that of the onerous stone that plagues Sisyphus. Despite being an absent force to her son’s oppressive intimacy with these formidable steps, there is something to be said for the manner in which concern is essentially a wisp in the void when her child’s health utters a silent plea, a murmured urgency, for attention.

Perhaps, we could all agree that a fraction of Artie’s extroverted anger towards Thomas was only partially misdirected. As a means to demonstrate the implied difficulty Arthur expresses for emotional release, especially so for repressed anger, it would have been interesting to witness a scenario in which he doesn’t heed Penny’s request whilst hiding behind a closed door. Given the egocentric brush that paints a broad stroke to her demeanour, would he be vindicated in raising his voice a few decibels ? If for no other reason than to dispel frustration by virtue of necessity. Of course, this isn’t to undermine the fact that Arthur displays potential signs of regressive behaviour (not exclusive to his circumstance but nevertheless germane). A hapless symptom of afflicted childhood incited by an inflamed basis of Nature v. Nurture.

With nearly all sense of identity drifting aimlessly as unanswered queries, there could be reason yet as to why Arthur adopts his Carnival and Joker personas. Beyond factors of aspiration and affinity alone. As someone (myself) who could be classified with mild alexithymia, all the while being fairly averse to labels, the concept of employing alter egos solely to assist in self-expression may not be uncommon, if not muted in translation. In a way that isn’t explicitly stated, we could infer that Arthur enforcing a purpose to evoke genuine smiles and laughter is a means to compensate for those of which he was deprived during his formative years. Speaking as an armchair psychologist, there could be evidenced an intimation of placebo effect for the presence of Pseudobulbar Affect. While this syndrome affects the nervous system and is hence more physiological than psychological, the nature of its infliction could be considered as a bridge between the two.

Certain conditions, of which remain unknown, from his childhood may have contributed to the development of this condition, emphasising a noted relation to thinking patterns. My theory is that any measure of neurosis is directly proportional to the degree of physical complications that may manifest. Arthur is a fairly sensitive man. A rough sketch of this attribute can be observed even whilst Arthur is gallivanting as Joker. In fact, one could even venture to say that his identity is actualised in this form. Cliché ? Yes. But, no less pertinent. Furthermore, a deduction might be made in which Carnival alludes to being a medium that balances the dichotomy between Arthur/Joker.

Yes, these may be points that have been proposed ad nauseam 😶 You also may be wondering: Exactly what role does Sisyphus play in this ?

Ultimately, I’ve come to the conclusion (hagiography) that Arthur, while emotionally sensitive, hardly translates that sensitivity to his visceral being. Revisiting the first bathroom scene, maybe one could see the gloomy reflections of Atlas and Sisyphus reflected in one burdened man, lost in soulful dance. Summarily, he could never strike me as one to admit defeat. To succumb to the siren’s lure of quietus. As illustrated by every Joker rendition before him, Arthur Fleck is no different in how his philosophy materialises. Blending the colours of absurdism and nihilism. While the assertion seems contradictory, considering Arthur’s initial intent to commit suicide on live television, I do believe his animus was strictly encouraged by his comedic inspiration, opposed to an active desire.

Fundamentally, this leads me to my final point (although, admittedly, this isn’t the end, I could literally talk to death about this man, and I will). The contrast of comic styles between Arthur and Murray. This might be the understated controversy of discourse, and my perspective on the matter may be unpopular, if even acknowledged, but just to clear the air, the following assumption isn’t meant to excuse him or his actions. Rather, to offer perspective. If you observe carefully, you might notice that there’s no distinct disparity between Murray and Arthur’s sense of humour. Given the era and its dogged appeals to censorship, Murray’s delivery could be regarded as nothing short of condensed and disguised. As our dear Artie reiterates, comedy is indeed subjective, but, as a matter of course, the brand that either presents isn’t particularly risible given context.

As an audience, we only know Murray on a superficial level. We know he’s a comedian. By the end of the film’s duration, we might have dismissed him as the stock bully. His humour was cruel, callow and sadistic when dispensed towards a man who deemed him a pillar of admiration. However, similar could be said for Arthur’s execution. Consistently morbid and sardonic, these elements of comedy that provoke laughter for Arthur comprise a vague semblance to Murray’s comedic anatomy, despite how patently trite and puerile the latter’s jesting was, when delivered to our undeserving victim.

Arthur was thoroughly justified in his feelings of despondency and disenchantment. Yet, objectively speaking, depending on either side of contention, one’s perception may be determined by whether or not his sensitivity was merely exaggerated when juxtaposed to a comedian who was, more or less, just doing his job; albeit questionably. Unprofessionally. We couldn’t know exactly what Murray was thinking or precisely why he invited Arthur on his show. Surely, public humiliation wasn’t his prime agenda. Curiously enough, I seemed to detect an air of indifference expressed by him when Arthur confessed (*insert delusional gif*). As if it was to be expected.

Ipso facto, with how the sequence pans out, there may have been the possibility of Murray personally investigating the subway murders and considering Arthur a suspect, consequently aiming to extract his confession (a reach, I know ! ) but, maybe not...

Not when the theory of Arthur contriving delusions, having been situated in Arkham the entire time, chimes as possible reasoning.

That, in itself, is a paradox...

...Will we ever ?

[surroundedbyperverts]

Oresuki (spoilers)

Ore wo Suki nano wa Omae dake kayo (translation: Are You Really the Only One Who Loves Me?)—abbreviated to Oresuki—is a peculiar story that has somehow managed to grip my interest for a variety of reasons.

For years, I’ve fantasized about writing a story where a matchmaker has feelings for the person they‘re trying to help but sincerely helps anyway, and maybe even despite offering the same help to another person who competes with them. Oresuki establishes this exact scenario as its initial premise, and gives me a twisted take on it where the involved characters are screwed up in ways that I can’t help but find fascinating.

The protagonist occupies a unique position, where he’s more malevolent in his pursuit of romance than Makoto Itō from School Days and yet somehow manages to be a somewhat better person than Makoto. A lot of the comedy at the beginning of the story comes from enjoying how his manipulative actions backfire and his plans blow up in his face. It’s cathartic to see him get his comeuppance, but there’s more to him than being a scumbag. At a certain point in the story, it becomes apparent that, manipulative and selfish though he may be, his friendships with the other characters aren’t quite as false as they first seemed. There’s an odd sincerity to the relationships he has with these people that he was using at first, and when it comes down to it, he does legitimately try to do right by them after it all blows up.

His situation is set up as a cliché harem anime, only for the real plot to be that he’s a scheming incel who’s deliberately trying to engineer a harem anime scenario, but that falls apart due to a combination of his own hubris and the fact that the people who really are interested in him happen to be more skilled manipulators than he is, and they’re taking advantage of his plans for their own benefit. So while half of his pain is a self-inflicted wound that you’re meant to look down on him for, the other half is damage done by others who play the game way better than he does, and than evokes a bit of pity for him since his suffering is not entirely his fault.

That’s not to say that everything is bleak and hopeless. While the other manipulators could easily turn the story into one that’s too unpleasant to be invested in the characters, they do have their own good sides to them just like the protagonist. When everything crashes and they all hit rock bottom, you’re both wanting to see everyone face the consequences of their actions and hoping that they can pick themselves up right the wrongs they’ve done. As someone who’s a total sucker for the Power of Friendship theme, seeing them all realize that dishonesty is unhealthy and resolve to communicate better and become genuine friends hooked me. That being said, old habits die hard, and these characters who used to be awful people are savvy enough to know how to deal with other manipulators who appear.

I don’t have the professional qualifications to really say if this is a good show or recommend it to anyone, and I’m certain that it’s a story that’s not for everyone, but I just wanted to say my piece. Oresuki is a screwed up tale with a heart hidden underneath the nastiness, and at least for me personally, it hits all the right notes to grab my attention and keep me invested. I look forward to more of it.

[dontreadthistrashgarbage]

Pt. 9

Han Jisoo was true to her word and within a week she called HEET and Woojin in for a meeting. The purpose of the meeting was to tell them that Guerin would be reinstated as their manager, and that Woojin would be staying on as an assistant. Woojin had already been briefed, but he was better at keeping a straight face than Guerin so she had to wait outside the room or the boys would know before Jisoo got to announce it.

Once Guerin heard a ruckus inside the room she knew it was okay to open the door and peek her head in, beaming at the scene that greeted her. Jisoo was laughing at the surprised reactions of her boy group, taken with their joy. Minhwan had jumped up and was hugging Gabriel and Woojin, the latter being a less willing participate in the spritely jumping around of the other two but still smiling. Seungbin was standing and asking if it was real and not a prank, Byoungjin had his hand buried in his face, likely starting to cry while Tobio crooned to him and comforted him. In a split second that changed as soon as they saw her coming through the door and she was rushed by her boys all speaking and shouting indecipherably at once.

She bounced around with them and couldn't help shedding a few happy tears herself, so relieved that this part of her life could return to normal finally and moved by everyone's reaction.

Once everyone had calmed down and reseated themselves, Seungbin had tried to sit on Guerins lap but she redirected him to his chair reminding him that it was a professional meeting. He settled for pulling his chair close to her and holding her arm while resting his head on her shoulder. No one had the heart to tell him to stop.

After the meeting Minhwan suggested they all get dinner to celebrate once their lessons and practice were over. Jisoo politely declined attending but handed over the company card to Guerin in support. Guerin resisted hugging her friend and instead bowed deeply with all the boys following suit.

"Noona, are you going to invite Wow-hyung to dinner with us too?" Byoungjin asked as Guerin escorted them back to their practice room.

"No!" Seungbin said quickly before Guerin had a chance to respond. She gave him a curious look before speaking into the silence that his abrupt interruption had caused.

"I was going to say that I think this is a team celebration so we should keep it to us."

"Seungbin, don't be rude. You need to apologize." Minhwan chastised the younger boy in true leader fashion.

Seungbin's eyes were on the floor, "I'm sorry Noona..."

She didn't respond right away but did give him a head pat and a smile as he looked up at her from under her hand. Once they were in the practice room Guerin cleared her throat, getting everyone's attention.

"I think we should talk really quickly before you all start." She looked at each of them, "Wow is my boyfriend. I like him a lot. All of A.C.E are my friends. But HEET are my boys. I love you all so very much and I'm always rooting for you first. I might have to balance my personal life a bit differently, but know that my love for you hasn't changed." Tobio remained largely expressionless per usual, Byoungjin looked curious, Minhwan was nodding, Gabriel had a slightly disbelieving look, Woojin looked uncomfortable as though he had been caught eavesdropping and Seungbin looked conflicted.

"I'm sorry Noona... it's just that... we just got you back and he's been with you this whole time..." Seungbin rubbed the toe of his shoe on the floor as he looked down.

"I understand. And you'll have enough of me around soon enough since we're getting back to normal. It was hard for me to be apart from you, and Kim Seyoon was a part of that support to help me get through it. All of you make me so happy, his is just a different kind of happy." She caught Gabriel hiding a laugh at her last comment.

"Oh shut up you know what I mean." She scolded him in English, unconvincingly because she had to fight to hide a laugh too.

"What I really want to say," she continued, "is to please not hold any grudges with him or any of A.C.E. Just like you don't with Charlie. And if you feel sad, worried or insecure you can talk to me. Don't bottle it up okay? And don't judge Wow unfairly." She finished.

A smattering of nods and words of affirmation from HEET were enough for her for now.

"Okay, let me see what you've been working on!" She clapped her hands and walked over to the music player with Woojin while HEET scurried to get warmed up.

"You still haven't had sex?" Charlie hissed.

Guerin shushed her, looking around quickly, "Just because we're speaking English doesn't mean we should assume people won't understand, or record and translate."

"I was quiet, but more importantly are you dying?" Charlie looked at Guerin with concern and held a hand to her forehead. Guerin groaned and rested her head on the table.

"Yeah I think I am." Her respond was muffled and tragic.

The two girls were in a small bakery sharing a piece of cake. It had been a couple days since their respective dates, Seyoon and Jun were busy as their fan project had been released and they had some schedules pertaining to that.

"You know how much effort I've put into making that situation happen for me and you have your own place and it is WASTED on you." Charlie feigned anger at the top of her friends head.

"I know." Guerin turned her head to the side to stare absently out the window, watching a young woman sitting on a bench outside on her phone. Charlie changed tactics and patted Guerin on the head encouragingly.

"We can see them again soon. You can try again!"

Guerin sighed and forced herself to sit up, "I'm not really worried. We'll get there eventually. But like... I want to."

"I believe in you." Charlie offered, taking a bite of cake.

Seyoon and Jun had their final schedule for their fan project. They sat in their respective seats getting their makeup done after their hair. The usual staff were tending to their cosmetics so the chatter was friendly per usual. Eunkyung was adding some finishing touches to Seyoon's look before changing the subject.

"These schedules are all because of your girlfriends right?"

He hesitated as he decided how to respond, feeling about odd, "It's not because of them." She didn't say anything as though waiting for him to finish a thought but he didn't say anything else.

"But... because you are openly dating now?"

Seyoon glanced at Jun but he was engrossed in conversation with his own makeup artist and didn't seem to hear the topic change, "We just want to assure our fans our love for them hasn't changed." He finally answered.

Eunkyung nodded absentmindedly, adding some gentle brush strokes to the foundation on his face. "I have to admit. I was surprised when I saw who you were dating."

Seyoon glanced up at her but she was seemingly focused on his makeup. He felt a response wasn't necessary so he didn't say anything.

"I thought you'd definitely date another idol once your ban was up." She smiled, stopping the touch ups to look at his face as she appreciated her handiwork. He nodded again, still not sure how to respond.

"When I was little my parents divorced." She started, "My parents never seemed to be suited for each other. I asked my dad how he and my mom had decided to start a family despite being so I'll suited for each other." Seyoon watched her pensively as she focused on more makeup details, not meeting his eyes.

"He said he felt that deciding to get married was like being a taxi going on duty. Once he turned on his light, whoever hopped into the cab was his responsibility. It was just unfortunate that it turned out to be a bad tipper." Eunkyung finished her story and sat back again, then met his eyes and the slight young woman smiled prettily. "You're all set for stage."

He thanked her and stood to move to the couch to wait for Jun for them to start their surprise vlive before the schedule.

Charlie had arrived at Guerin's place ahead of time to set up. She had asked him over with a movie night, only letting him know that it would be more private than at his dorm. Other than that she hadn't given him other details. Charlie had spent ages deciding on whether lighting candles would be too much or not and kept lighting, blowing them out, then lighting them until a knock finally came at the door.

The secluded environment that they were about to be in had inspired some ideas in Jun. He hesitated outside the door for a moment, trying to get his thoughts under control before ringing the buzzer. He continued reminding himself to not jump to conclusions and to just enjoy the movie with Charlie while he waited for her to answer the door.

Hearing the buzzer Charlie froze and took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomache. She opened the door, relieved for a moment to see that Jun had also dressed casually, even though her outfit hid her much more selectively chosen lingerie. Once the door was closed behind him they embraced, almost a little awkwardly.

The two of them puttered around until eventually settling onto the couch with some snacks as they started the movie they had agreed on beforehand. Charlie was completely unable to focus on the movie as she kept going through her plan for later in the evening in her head. She was so distracted she didn't even notice Jun's lack of reactions to the comedy. He was equally as distracted as the two of them cuddled closer and closer.

Charlie couldn't handle it, about an hour into the movie she couldn't even follow what was happening. She gave up and decided to go for it. Acting on impulse, refusing herself the opportunity to overthink anymore. Pulling away from him she pulled off her shirt, revealing a lacey surprise, the swung her leg over his lap, blocking the television.

Jun, who hadn't even been paying attention and contemplating along the same (although less bold) options was taken by surprise. His hands went automatically to the hips of his girlfriend. Jun's attention was snapped to attention as his eyeline, which started at her new lingerie before traveling up to her face, forced the reaction he had been lacking from the film. His eyes wide, he couldn't help but grin as a reaction before biting his lip and increasing pressure on her hips, pulling her closer. Their lips met, the kiss passionate and deep without lacked any pretense. Charlie removed his hands from him long enough to stand and remove her jeans, revealing the rest of her lacey provocation. He had all of a full second to react, not even noticing her flush before she moved back onto his lap her arms pulling him close as their lips met again.

His hands moved up to trace the edges of her bra, moving back to touch the clasp before hesitating. She pressed against him, wordlessly encouraging him grinding on his lap. Motivated by her response he fumbled momentarily before unhooking her and exposing her torso to him. He had seen her like this once before, but the moment had been ruined by Wow bumbling into their moment. This time no such distractions marred the experience. He took the time to experience the full glory, holding her away for a few moments.

She allowed him the enjoyment before stepping off him, taking his hands in hers and pulling him up. She snuck a kiss as they stood, lasting a few seconds longer than intended, before leading him away into the bedroom where they were finally able to more fully explore their desires.

For security and privacy, Kim Hyeim had allowed Guerin and Charlie access to the main waiting area of Beat Interactive. Seyoon had worked late knowing Guerin had a personal matter to attend to. Once she texted him that she was waiting for him when he was ready, he wrapped up his work and headed to the main floor immediately.

Guerin was waiting close to the door with her surprise. As soon as the elevator doors dinged she looked up to see Seyoon stepping out. She had time to stand up before seeing a pretty young woman that had been waiting closer to the elevators pop up and rush over to him.

Seyoon was surprised with Eunkyung greeting him first at the elevator doors. "Oppa!" She greeted him excitedly, hugging him without precedent. He froze for a moment looking down at her before patting her head, causing her to look up at him, "I waited for you!" She added.

He took her shoulders and gently moved her away from him. She complied by letting him go but still leaning close to him. He wasn't sure what to say but she seemed expectant so he mentally scrambled before settling on "Why?"

"I... I like you!" She said earnestly, pushing against his hands on her shoulders again. His lost expression only grew more confused and desperate as he floundered on how to react.

"Your girlfriend... she doesn't suit you! You have more options." She pressed, "I think you should know... you don't have to settle for the first customer once your light comes on!"

Seyoon had been known to react to annoying stimuli in situations like Jun singing loudly in the shower at bedtime, but he had rarely been moved to anger. The feeling for him was less a hot flash and more a settling cold at his face froze, eyes darkening. He was spared an immediate reaction as Guerin stepped up.

Seeing Eunkyung embrace Seyoon had made her heart lurch. She stood in place gathering her emotions, forcing herself to calm down as she watched another woman overtly throwing herself on her boyfriend. Swallowing her bubbling rage she forced a smile and moved to the pair.

"Seyoonie." Guerin said, greeting her boyfriend with forced cheerfulness before staring pointedly at the shorter woman leaning into him.

Eunkyung started. She hadn't noticed Guerin come into the waiting room, unaware she was allowed and having spent the last few hours working up her courage to confess to Seyoon. Seeing Guerin, the obstacle she perceived between her and Seyoon, she stepped back but couldn't hide a hateful expression.

The animosity was not lost on Guerin, who proceeded to politely bow and introduce herself. Eunkyung barely inclined her head in response. Guerin let her gaze linger almost condescendingly on Eunkyung, her annoyance poorly hidden before she turned fully to Seyoon, "Are you ready to go?" She asked.

"One moment." He reached for Guerin's hand, the turned to Eunkyung, "My light wasn't on when I met Guerin. But meeting her changed that." Guerin looked at him, baffled by his words and sure that her language skills were failing her. He continued, "I don't expect anyone to understand. I don't need them to. Least of all you." Eunkyung's expression became hurt and shocked but he wasn't done, "Our relationship has been professional until now. It's clear to me that it can't continue. I'll speak with Kim Hyeim so you won't need to be bothered by my presence anymore. It's been nice working with you, you've done well." He bowed politely to her form as she was frozen in surprise.

"Are you serious? Her??" Eunkyung spat, recovering enough to be angry. Guerin raised her eyebrows but Seyoon spoke.

"You have been inappropriate this entire time and I've been patient. You are about to cross the line." His cold expression was unfamiliar and scary, even Guerin looked to him in surprise, "At this point you will be leaving with a good recommendation. I suggest you don't throw that away."

Eunkyung took a step backward, paused and looked at him in shock. She seemed to debate saying something, threw a last disgusted expression at Guerin then turned to leave, angry tears in her eyes. The pair watched her leave. As soon as the doors closed behind her, Seyoon pulled Guerin into him hugging her close. Guerin was temporarily lost for words. She knew she had been insulted but the interaction had been confusing, so her anger was curbed by curiosity, and embracing Seyoon who held her so tenderly helped abate the strong negative emotions she felt.

"What just happened?" She asked.

"She's not important. She was wrong." He rested his head against hers, trying to calm himself.

"Will you tell me more later?" She asked, snesing he might be too worked up now to get into details. He nodded into her. After a moment he relaxed and changed the subject.

"So what was your surprise?" He asked.

"Oh... well I hope this cheers you up..." she pulled away from him and reached down to a crate she had set behind her protectively out of habit. Opening the door a white fluffy cloud of a creature pushed out, wagging a happy tail.

Seyoon dissolved.

[justgenlockthings]

gen:VIEW Episode 2, “There’s Always Tomorrow”

Rooster Teeth knows how to make a premiere that packs a punch when it comes to their serialized dramas (yes, I’m including Red vs. Blue in that category). But it’s the non-premiere episodes that generally give you a better idea of if the show’s gonna be good or not.

Or maybe you’re someone like TheFloofArtist and you were predisposed to hate the show long before you even saw it and so found literally every possible reason to hate it from the 2nd episode and dramatically “dropped it” despite the fact that if you hated the show so much you were shitting on it without having seen a single episode your opinion was never gonna be considered valid.

(Why do grown men throw hissy fits about TV shows?)

Ahem...so. Episode 2 of gen:LOCK...

Let’s Get Down To Business

Where episode 1 was about establishing the relationship between Chase and Miranda, this episode seems to be about establishing the gen:LOCK program itself: how it works and who’s gonna be in it. For that reason, at least for the first half, it’s very expository, but not in a way that ever feels boring. Honestly, the longer episode lengths means the amount of time they spend standing around and talking doesn’t feel like vital time wasted, unlike RWBY which has often made that terrible mistake. This is information we need to get a basic understanding of how this program works, and we also get a chance to hear Dr. Weller passionately talking about his life’s work. Jesus christ, David Tennant gives such a good performance. He really sells the good guy mad scientist voice you expect from Dr. Weller.

I wasn’t entirely sold on Michael B. Jordan as a voice actor the previous episode, but even if at certain points it was clear we were watching a scene that hadn’t been initially animated to his voice, this episode convinced me things were gonna be fine. I loved his performance in the scene of Julian in the tank chatting with Migas: the sort of bittersweetness of the reunion between the two after all that had happened to them, but they were still glad to finally see each other again. Miles Luna deserves some praise too for helping sell the fact that this is a reunion. After all, even though we caught a brief moment of them interacting and joking around in Episode 1, we didn’t really have a chance to establish they were close friends. This scene does well to convince us that yes, they were friends, and they are relieved to see each other again.

Chase and Miranda’s situation was very well-handled in this episode. It was always going to be painful for Miranda to find out Chase was still alive, and even though it’s perfectly logical that Chase wasn’t able to reach out to her in the intervening years, it still isn’t something she can just brush over. She didn’t immediately jump at the chance to see him in-person, and actively avoided him for a day. It would have been a major mistake for her to be the first one who went to visit him. I love this whole situation with Miranda: the way the marketing was going you kind of expected just a bland character defined by her relationship with Chase, and, well, I guess what she does in this episode is sort of defined by the relationship, but it’s done in a way that’s actually interesting, where you actually care about how she feels about all this. Dakota Fanning does a great job conveying the hurt Miranda feels seeing someone she loved after so long who she’d given up for dead. I think she might easily be the third best voice actor we’ve heard so far, behind Monica Rial and David Tennant.

Here’s another case where one of my few pre-show expectations got subverted. From the character teasers I’d sort of expected us to get a depiction of the formation of the gen:LOCK program from the start: presumably that path would have followed Chase and Yasamin’s initial training and the early mech designs we saw in the early posters and the first two teasers. Of course, this was before I had known what they were planning with Chase’s crash, a path in the story that I could not have possibly predicted. And now I’m realizing why they didn’t do that: 1) it would have been too similar to RWBY and probably have made for a very slow show otherwise, and 2) they wanted to get right into the giant mechs fighting things. Sure, it sort of robs us of seeing some cool stuff about what it was like for Chase to join the program, but I figure we’ll get that depicted in flashbacks or in the comics.

One of the accusations regarding Kazu Iida was that having him speak Japanese while everyone else was speaking English would create “The Lopez Effect.” For those unaware, Lopez is a robot on Rooster Teeth’s show Red vs. Blue who speaks “Spanish” (really sentences run through Google Translate) that is translated for the audience via subtitles but no one else can understand. Now, for what the complain actually entails, I think “Lopez effect” is a bad term for it because Lopez’s situation is played for laughs while in gen:LOCK everyone understands Iida and doesn’t bat an eye. The complaint is more that it creates a tonal dissonance in what’s designed as a dramatic show: while everyone’s speaking English Kazu’s saying all his lines in Japanese with subtitles. Now, I can understand why that could all sound a little weird, but the thing is the way they set things up in the episode I really don’t think Iida speaking English is gonna be as distracting as one might think: they set it up where the characters can understand what he’s saying thanks to the augmented reality gear everyone seems equipped with, so that already established a method of communication, and I just didn’t give any thought to the fact he’s speaking Japanese for the rest of the episode. I would honestly be more bothered if he just spoke English all the time.

The other accusation is that the fact that he is the only character who speaks a foreign language was they’d have an excuse to get the voice of Spike Spiegel, which apparently is bad because it’s “weeb-baiting.” I’m sorry, I didn’t realize they were trying to draw audiences in with who they were casting...

As far as the new gen:LOCK recruits go, we didn’t get too much information about them, and this is probably the only issue I have with this episode. Still, there was a lot going on here, so I can forgive not learning everything about them in their first appearance. And the thing is, the sequence with the imposter Sinclair (bravo to Blaine Gibson for being able to flip a coin––heheh––from friendly recruit Sinclair to Evil!Sinclair) offered us a good glimpse into who they are as fighters. Especially in recent years, Rooster Teeth fights are a chance to really get an idea for the character (and for that I wholeheartedly thank Monty Oum) and how they handle dangerous situations. Yasamin is clearly someone who can jump into a fight and hold her own without hesitation, Iida is someone who will jump right into a fight, Valentina will keep her distance but can still be quite deadly, and Cammie is a scared little bean...who with a little encouragement can still be helpful.

Now, the Sinclair reveal was a slight bit predictable if you picked up the hints in Character Reveal Teaser 4 (which I hadn’t, and in retrospect was blatantly obvious). The fact that it was predictable was the source of derision by some of the more gen:CRIT crowd, but honestly? I don’t see predictability as a sign of whether something’s good or not. Things can be predictable and still be fun to watch, so long as it’s delivered in an entertaining manner. And we got a pretty awesome fight sequence out of it.

I’ve seen a few people say that the jokes in this show feel forced. I’m inclined to disagree. The type of humor Gray and Evan are employing in the writing is more grounded than the kind you see in RWBY or Red vs. Blue or Camp Camp: it’s designed to feel more natural to the conversations these characters are having, while also not taking attention away from the more serious aspects of the story. Most of Rooster Teeth’s core group (more recent additions less-so) know how to create an engaging story based in serious tones, but they never really stray from their comedy roots––Day 5, their most dramatic venture to date, was a lot funnier than the concept would’ve implied because Josh and Chris knew where to inject humor when it would be desperately needed. This episode isn’t very different: the drama of Chase basically coming back from the dead gets natural moments of levity from his and Migas brief Siege mention and Dr. Weller being disappointed that he couldn’t participate in the reveal; the tension between Chase and Miranda gets a moment where Miranda refuses to hear out Migas on visiting Chase, a moment that can draw laughs while also being realistic to her and Chase’s actual situation; Chase popping up behind Fake!Sinclair and saying “Boo,” which...actually that was more a legit joke, but I laughed really hard. What I mean to say is gen:LOCK is not trying to be a comedy, but Rooster Teeth knows how and when to make its audience laugh.

(save for Red vs. Blue Season 16 of course...)

Conclusions

Another solid episode of gen:LOCK, and a little more interesting one than “The Pilot” because it delves into the meatier stuff that this series is going to follow. Stellar vocal performances by the cast give us a sense of the relationships that need to be picked up in the four years since the war began, and some amazing fighting shows us gen:LOCK means business as an action series.

My only concern is that the way this episode is formatted it doesn’t quite stand on its own in the way “The Pilot” did, but the fact that it was released alongside “The Pilot” worked in its favor, since both episodes give us a good ground to establish what this show is looking to do, and hopefully further episodes will follow on that.

I’ve said enough about people who were predisposed to hate the show commenting on this episode, but I wanna say this also: people. We are two episodes in. The show premiered less than a week ago. There isn’t a whole lot of content to draw from to know where it’s going. Be a little more patient.

[thesinglesjukebox]

CUPCAKKE - SQUIDWARD NOSE

[4.45]

This is definitely a song about a nose. Definitely.

Ian Mathers: Laugh rule. [7]

Alfred Soto: She's running out of limbs to which she can compare a penis, so she settles on toes and sells it with a chorus of Hemingway-worthy simplicity. Horn blasts, enthusiastic if not sycophantic backing vocal, post-Timbo "Asian" program -- "Squidward Nose" could've come out in 2017 or 2012. Before the audience complains about sameness, let me remind them that Trump's America needs eight thousand female rappers whose cock craze will make dudes think she's belittling them. In 2020 I won't need this, nor, I hope, will CupcakKe. [6]

Nicholas Donohoue: I don't think any song has come more fully birthed from the thigh of Generation-Z internet culture: meme subject lines, rapid-fire samples to pepper the beat, SpongeBob being the Rosetta Stone to translating situations for the uninitiated. The line of upfront rudeness and humor with calculated malice on deserving targets and clear lines on the fantasy, that's such a welcome addition to what realness in hip hop could be. I also appreciate any project that opens me up to a whole new way to examine children's media. [8]

Julian Axelrod: There may come a day where CupcakKe's routine gets old. There may come a day when she runs out of anatomy-based punchlines, or blows through her endless arsenal of cartoon fire hydrant beats, or gets cancelled for tweeting about wanting to fuck Henry Kissinger or something. But "Squidward Nose" is a loopy banger with a rapid-fire torrent of sex puns about Rick Ross, Serena Williams, and Dora the Explorer. So today is not that day. [7]

Tim de Reuse: For this to have had the most distant chance of working, she would've needed to come up with at least, like, two or three more words that rhyme with "nose." [1]

Katherine St Asaph: For all the pornographic raunch of CupcaKke's past singles, beneath the ones I've heard was always this crucial inclusivity. This time, well, I lack the pertinent equipment and even I feel vicariously like shit at the taunting, neverendingly repeated hook of "his dick's smaller than my toes." Did the last CupcakKe video we reviewed not feature one way to get around that? Is the audience for this song humiliation fetishists? At what point has Squidward's nose not been flaccid? (Besides when he's blowing bubbles, which I guess works? How many future offers of employment am I losing by writing this?) Extra point off for the R. Kelly joke now, of all times. [1]

Iris Xie: The trepidation of listening to that bhangra beat, and then witnessing CupcakKe launching into the riotous hook made me laugh for 5 minutes in relief and horror. This effect is amplified by how CupcakKe made a completely expert move of having a single bar of silence after the chorus, as to allow you to process the deep implications of what she just stated about "Squidward Nose." I am sad it's not the same exact sitar sample as Namie Amuro's deadpan pussypopping anthem "Want Me Want Me," but that's okay, they're both in the spirit of using bhangra-lite samples for extremely explicit reasons. There are many components to like here: I do appreciate how she leans away from making more Spongebob references, as to avoid diluting the initial humor, and digs in deeper for her extensive references, such as "I'm a Gemini so that's really a threesome." And CupcakKe stays true to her emphasis on not turning away from vivid sound effects, like, guh, that slurping sound is so gross!! But curiously, rather than building on that killer intro and syncopation between the horns, the sitar sample, and the wordplay and flow of her verses, the track loses momentum and peters out towards the end with re-iterating the chorus. This seems really uncharacteristic of the level of intensity and charisma CupcakKe usually brings to her songs, so I wish she went harder, but overall, I'm just glad such a song exists in such a silly and infuriating world. [6]

Thomas Inskeep: There's a way to make sex rap sexy -- cf. Cardi B's new single -- and then there's the way to make it gross and stupid. Starting but by no means ending with a SpongeBob Squarepants reference, this firmly falls in the latter category. CupcakKe's philosophy seems to be to say as much vulgar shit as possible (there's a reference to "snot," I'm not kidding), for no apparent reason other than that she can. That didn't work for Eminem or Luke (artistically, at least), and it doesn't work for her, either. [0]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I started to enjoy CupcakKe's music a lot more once I realized there's not really a joke -- she's not a comedy rapper, just a rapper who's really good at saying ridiculous things with conviction and poise. "Squidward Nose" works because of this nuance -- she is absolutely committed to talking about how this guy's dick is very, very small, and there is nothing I can do to stop that. [7]

Will Rivitz: The verses contain some of CupcakKe's best one-liners; it's just a shame that the second verse -- unprintable here as this blurb has my name attached to it and I do not want future employers finding me through searching for suspect terms online but absolutely hilarious nonetheless -- is attached to a chorus whose flatness in pitch is matched accurately by its flatness in energy. [4]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: CupcakKe always ends up with cheap beats, but she's often able to make the most of them, even making them part and parcel of her brash appeal. The hook here is intentionally obnoxious, making its "neener neener"-like chant all the more biting, but it also sounds tedious alongside the dull, synthesized horn. At this point, the shock and delight of hearing CupcakKe's sexual wordplay and imagery is overridden by how familiar her flows have sounded across her many mixtapes. Even then, I was an Asian dude who grew up in all-White schools: I've heard far more creative words used to describe someone having a small dick, trust me. [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]