#i hope its entertaining or cathartic or something

[kate-apologist]

.

[nastylittleghouls]

M! Would you tell us about Aether wearing these around the Abbey?

First of all, Jim, I appreciate you so much 💜 Second of all, we all know Aether's magnificent behind would see a lot of action when he wears those pants around the Abbey. From Siblings and Ghouls and Papa's alike. Most of all from Copia. We know just how much he loves Aether's ass. And Aether? He'd use it as a response and invitation for almost everything and at the end of the day he'd be filthy and sore in so many ways.

So I scribbled a lil thing.  5+1 moments where Aether got his "patch(es) kissed". There's mildly spicy entertainment under the cut. No Papa's included this time (they might get their own someday) and no refunds of your time if it actually isn't entertaining and my brain fog suffering med addled self was lying to me.

CW: Implied consensual free use, somnophilia. Unbeta'ed.

Divider by @wrathofrats - AO3 for the so inclined

Booty calls (He sure hopes it does)

1.

It‘s cathartic. Being alone and singing his heart out, that is. Letting himself sink into someone else's happiness without having personal ties to them. It’s something he needs more than he cares to admit. To himself and even less to the pack. He thrives on being social and being connected so deeply, don‘t get him wrong, but it‘s draining. Feeling other beings alongside his own all the time. The many unfortunate souls that seek shelter here. Chewed up and spit out by a society that produces loneliness en masse. Crushed souls and shattered minds hopeful for a new beginning and….

He sings even louder, over the dark cloud threatening to form in his mind, and shimmies with a pile of clothes in his arms through the room. His tail swishing and bopping, used as a makeshift microphone when he gets carried away by the vibes.

He bends over to stuff the washing machine full, ass still wriggling to the tune on the radio, when a pair of hands still his swaying hips and warm lips burn right through the layers of fabric, pulling a startled chuckle out of Aether. First on the patch, following its invitation to kiss it, then right on the seam between his cheeks. Further down on the banana, followed by a bite that has his breath hitching in anticipation. He knows what the sight of him doing so mundane, so humanly domestic things like laundry does to Dewdrop. 

He feels the same when Dewdrop is in his element, showing his magic in the kitchen. A natural in combining flavors and textures and bringing Aether to his knees for a taste.

„It says kiss it not eat me alive“

He feels, more than he hears, Dewdrop's low laugh when the water pump signals the starting washing cycle. The old thing’s too loud when it gets going but the vibrations do wonderful things to him, as Dewdrop hooks his fingers into and drags the waistband down to bare Aether to his hungry gaze.

 „Let me kiss it properly then“ is all he hears before Dewdrop spreads his cheeks and seals his lips over his hole, making out with it until Aether’s knees buckle and he has to grip the edge of the machine to keep himself upright. 

 Aether doesn‘t get around to folding the dry laundry waiting for him.

2.

After breakfast, Aurora and Sunshine make it a game to follow him around making loud obnoxious kissing noises when he turns his back to them. Aether pretends to ignore them until, in one careless second, they get too close and he gets his hands on them. He contemplates just sitting on them until they cry for mercy but decides to dump them unceremoniously into the lake and let the water ghoul conference deal with those brats.

3.

Around midday, he helps Ivy maintain his namesake on the Ghoul Wing walls. He’s standing on a stepstool, sweating as the sun beats down on him, gently removing some stray vines from the wooden window frames and hooking them into the growth support on the walls. It’s necessary work, otherwise they’ll infiltrate the whole building.  A gaggle of siblings has been hiding behind the columns for a while now, dissolving into helpless giggles every time he looks over at them, talking to each other in hushed, excited voices. 

„I can‘t just go up to him and….“ 

Aether can practically hear the wild hand gesturing.

„it‘s obviously an invitation!“ 

“But…”

“What what in the B…”

Someone snickers. A smacking sound follows. 

“He’s so big, just imagine….”

He laughs to himself at that, amused. He can smell the faint arousal mixed with a dash of fear. Can feel it in the aura surrounding them. Some of them are new and haven’t had the time to experience what a ghoul can and would do to them. Just dared to let their minds wander. Most of them think the masks are infused with a containment spell, making them harmless servants of the church. And, in Aether’s opinion, that’s half of the fun of the whole cat-and-mouse game. 

One sibling, clearly more shy than the others from what he’s observed today, finally breaks away from the group and leaves their hideout behind the stones. They walk straight, seemingly confident. A closer look reveals that their hands are shaking and that the fine line their lips are forming doesn’t stem from determination. 

They stop behind him, eyes firmly trained on the patch on his ass. A minute ticks by and just in time, he turns his head to see them raise their hand to their mouth. An exaggerated smooching sound follows and two fingertips press firmly against the patch. Aether wriggles his ass a little and cheers erupt behind him. 

They finally look up at him and he sends a wink their way.

“I appreciate someone that can follow instructions like that”

They smile in response before their eyes widen in realization and they almost fall over their own feet to run back to their friends. 

Yet, they linger. When Ivy makes him take a break it‘s the patch stuffed into their mouth, muffling the pleasured chants of his name.

4. 

During a nap on the couch in the common room, it‘s Swiss that follows his patch‘s invitation. Lips firm, nose pressed so far into the swell of his butt that Aether could swear he can feel his teeth. Swiss does it once, twice. A third time. Aether smiles sleepily, about to comment if it wasn’t on for the fourth,  where Swiss just keeps his face buried there and starts snoring. He ruffles the other Ghoul's hair affectionately before he closes his eyes and follows Swiss back into dreamland.  

He wakes to Swiss’ sliding the hard ridge of his cock against the letters on his ass, forcing Aether‘s hips into the couch over and over until they both come. 

„Messy kisses are the best“  Swiss smirks as he watches his cum seep in. 

5. In the evening, Aether goes to fetch some firewood from behind the greenhouse. 

Mountain steps in front of him when he’s about to leave.

„Road toll. You shall not pass without paying up“ 

The look on Mountain‘s face is almost unbearably cheesy and Aether can‘t help but play along. 

„And what, dear sir, can I offer you to let me through?“

Now, Mountain's eyes start to glint mischievously and he takes the wood from Aether, dropping it unceremoniously on the ground next to them. Then he steps closer and draws Aether up against himself with a firm grip on his ass, fingers digging deep into the patch on the inside of Aether’s thigh. It forces the Quint onto his tiptoes.  

“I have a craving for banana and cream”.

+1

When Aether faceplants into his nest after his shift in the infirmary the next morning, only clad in boxer shorts, it doesn’t take long for Dewdrop to crawl between his legs and drop another kiss onto his ass where the patch had been sitting for too long in his opinion; giving Aether’s body freely away. It feels like a nod to the events in the laundry room yesterday when he was sending him off as he’s now welcomed back. 

“I missed you, starlight”  The words come sometime in between bouts of scenting him. In a narrow time frame when he pauses and starts anew. More of a breath than a sentence.

“Missed you too, firefly” 

Aether says and sinks into the feeling, lets the emotions that well up thrum through their bond, and accepts Dew’s in return. It’s easy when it’s him. A being so deeply interwoven with his own for so long.  A part of him wishes it would never end, the other wishes Dew would let him roll over and reciprocate sooner than later.  

Finally, after giving himself a moment to playfully nip into Aether’s thighs where Mountain left his mark earlier, he nuzzles and kisses his way up Aether‘s back. Aether inhales -  sharply -  then exhales - slowly -  with a laugh and reaches behind him blindly to tangle his fingers in Dew’s hair, craving more contact.

“Easy, easy. I’m here. All yours again”

Dew settles around him like warm summer rain. Calming, warm. The need to reclaim swinging along like an afterthought. 

“Want to mark you inside. Let me?” 

It’s a demand, packaged in a whispered question, to a star who would never say no to being consumed by fire. 

[khepiari]

Did you write "My Little Husband"? I've always thought about reading it, it's pending but I never get around to it. after reading everything it's an interesting perspective, and well, I usually rely on tags and summaries before going in and reading something, because I don't like to bother or feel uncomfortable, sometimes I do it because "Maybe it's not so bad" but Maybe I was a little rude when I expressed myself and I apologize for that, as I said, the problem of age is very personal to me for different reasons that don't come to the fore, but really in the end I don't stop loving this ship and its fandom, many Thank you for your attention and answering me, I wish you good luck in your projects and have a good morning, by the way, I love your publications Lawlu

Yes, it is me who wrote My Little Husband. I would advise reading against it. Yep, it is funny, a rom-com and fluffy, but avoid it if you are not used to child bride/teen bride stories. The language is immature, I used some serious terms without understanding the history behind it and played some issues for laughs. So yeah, avoid it if it can send you to a bad place.

As for being rude, no you weren’t. It’s perfectly normal to ask questions and express your thoughts. I chose to be curt and blunt about the ask, as for more than a year, we have seen a spike in LawLu antis bothering us on every social media platform; twitter, IG, TikTok, Facebook and Discord as well, hijacking our tags, retweeting art to spread hate and doxing. Hence I choose to be very clear on my stand on shipping and fandom discussions. We cannot bring real-life moral values to fandom spaces, which are fiction born of fiction or some form of entertainment.

Morals exist to help people live better lives and make the right choices when bad choices are the easier way out. It cannot be used as a yardstick to say something is good and something is not in the realm of speculative and derivative fiction.

Fandom is a recreational space, at best alleviation of the idea of a communal hobby space, but it is on the web.

When you are reading a fic with hopes it might be good, please be careful. If age-gaps or anything that can trigger you, you should avoid it. As I said, fiction is a personal experience. The point of hard-hitting stories/uncomfortable stories is to help you unclog your inner issues/problems/unresolved emotional baggage and have a cathartic release.

But if something has the potential to hurt you and you don't have your own safe haven or space to process it, don't engage with it.

Thank you for loving my LawLu publications.

Take care.

[donnerpartyofone]

I had a dream that I had gotten heavily into a (fictional) indie rock band with a lot of thoughtful, poignant lyrics about life and relationships and stuff. I was telling people, "I don't usually listen to anything like this, but this is so good, it's my new favorite thing!" In reality I haven't listened to anything like that in years.

I started removing myself from poignant, thoughtful music about life and relationships and stuff during and after my Very Abusive Relationship, which semi-permanently alienated me from most forms of sentimental, romantic media--ESPECIALLY media that romanticizes destructive obsessions and shitty behavior, which is practically all media as you may have immediately realized. That stuff used to be fun before I actually lived through it and realized that it's always about infantile egomania and that I actually hate people who have to hurt others in order to feel like they have the slightest shred of efficacy/value/relevance in their own narrow little lives (which is a surprising number of people btw). The /bad romance/ thing seems so monolithic, like the biggest most desirable thing in the world, until you get right up close with your nose to it and you realize it's made out of particle board and vinyl siding and it has to be that big to cast an obscuring shadow over a whole lot of adult babies (sorry, adult baby community, I actually don't mean you) who are hoping you won't notice how spineless and pathetic they are. Spending a few years with someone who made it his business to scare the shit out of me and try to ruin my life, fairly publicly, had the one-two punch of making me feel like I simply wasn't good enough to be in one of those dark and brooding romances because otherwise why would he try to convince me I was nothing--and conversely, leaving me totally disillusioned about dark and brooding romances because I had been up close and seen how the sausage was made and it's not remotely as exotic and delicious as people try to tell you it is. It's just off-brand baby food, left on the shelf long past its expiry.

Right after that was over another factor pulled me away from poignant, thoughtful music about life and relationships and stuff, which was working in an open-plan office next to the tech guy pool. Us sensitive, artistic nerds in the production department had a pretty high-stress job that required constant focus, and we were pretty much only ever noticed by the overlords if one of us screwed something up; we were constantly being monitored not just for poor performance, but for potential political incorrectness or any little thing that could be construed as an HR problem--and in the meantime, the tech guys were literally screaming misogynistic jokes and racial slurs and throwing shit at each other, sometimes hitting us or our computers, but the executives had this hypnosis telling them that tech guys are Valuable so everything they do is OK forever. One of my main coping mechanisms was to get heavily into metal and harsh noise: anything with a cathartically brutal wall-of-sound quality and no discernible lyrics to speak of, that prevented me from having to hear anyone around me or even think about other people and their emotions. This kind of music became a huge passion for me, so in a way it was a net positive experience.

Nowadays I don't have a lot of time for music, which seems crazy even to me, like I don't want to be one of those sociopaths who say they don't listen to music! I just have to spend a LOT of time watching movies, when I have time for A/V entertainment, and I don't drive or have a commute anymore, so that's pretty limiting. When I do have time for music, it's a weird 7-10 split of trashy hype dance music like Atari Teenage Riot or Rob Zombie (or other things I'm too embarrassed to mention atm) to burn off my anxiety and give me a temporary ego boost that I can feel ashamed of later, and on the other hand, really heady, long ambient or experimental compositions, preferably with no vox. I think I'd like to get more into jazz and classical music and I occasionally go down a youtube rabbit hole that I really enjoy, but not much sticks because it turns into information overload and I get distracted.

Sometimes for whatever neurotic reason I have this allergic reaction to our collective preciousness about Human Drama, like why don't we have anything better to think about? There's some Herzog quote, I won't know how to find it, where he wonders why people always make movies about interpersonal problems, why not the drama of insect life, of cellular activities, of geological metamorphosis? And I really feel that way, often. But for some reason I am now dreaming that I've found some thoughtful, poignant indie rock band with lyrics about life and relationships and stuff that I cannot get enough of and I'm telling the world. I wonder what shifted to make me imagine that.

[hellsmouthcove]

from cursive’s the ugly organ 2014 reissue lyric booklet

We should've seen The Ugly Organ coming. 

When Tim Kasher reunited Cursive in 1999 and produced Domestica a year later, it was a warning sign. Cursive hadn’t exactly whispered on Such Blinding Stars for Starving Eyes and The Storms of Early Summer: Semantics of Song, but Domestica was the kind of album that hurt, that could bruise your faith in relationships. As cathartic as it felt, it portended more storms on the horizon.

When the Burst and Bloom EP arrived in 2001, the winds kicked up. Guitarist Ted Stevens said as much on “Tall Tales, Telltales”: “Four winds converge upon a point where your compass / spirals ‘round in useless motions mocking everything.” The maelstrom: It’s where Cursive thrives. The EP shuddered with the band’s accelerating momentum, from the self-referential “Sink to the Beat” to the almost palpable weariness from meaningless hook-ups in “Fairytales Tell Tales.” Hearing Burst and Bloom, there was no doubt that something big lurked on the horizon for Cursive. 

Yet The Ugly Organ still surprised us: that the band could be this ferocious, this ambitious, this unsettling. Kasher had turned his lyrics on himself before – see Domestica – but never with such dismissive disdain. “Cut it out – your self-inflicted pain is getting too routine,” he howls in “Art is Hard.” During the regretful morning-after of “The Recluse,” he sings, “Oh Christ, I’m not that desperate, am I? / Oh no, oh God, I am.” He sings from the perspective of his embittered significant other in “Butcher the Song,” “So rub it in in your dumb lyrics / Yeah, that’s the time and place to wring out your bullshit.” She returns, even angrier, in “Bloody Murderer,” saying, “When I was yours, you fled the scene / Now you can’t wash your hands of me.” When The Ugly Organ closes with “Staying Alive” and its lilting refrain, “The worst is over,” that’s not necessarily hope we hear. It could just as easily be resignation. The worst is over, but this isn’t much better. 

As on Domestica, Kasher signs about a character on The Ugly Organ, but just as on Domestica, it never feels far removed from him. “Butcher the Song” even uses his name, while “Art is Hard” name-checks Cursive. Kasher fell under the sway of the concept-album idea on Domestica, using his own life to heavily inform the album’s story of a failing relationship. It’s easy to see the same on The Ugly Organ and its bracingly unsentimental portrait of a touring musician (named “the Ugly Organist”) and the dysfunction that penetrates all aspects of his life. He’s going through the motions artistically (“Some Red Handed Sleight of Hand,” “Art is Hard”), his relationship with his significant other is a destructive cycle of infidelity and bitter recrimination (“The Recluse,” “Butcher the Song,” “A Gentleman Caller,” “Bloody Murderer”), and redemption seems unlikely (“Sierra,” “Staying Alive”). The flights of fancy of “Driftwood: a Fairy Tale” and “Harold Weathervein” recall the stormy, water-logged imagery of Burst and Bloom. “Weatherman, do you feel?” Stevens asks on the latter. “Is it stormy inside of your veins?”

The Ugly Organ made landfall on March 4, 2003, the same day as Evanescence's Fallen and roughly two weeks before the start of the Iraq War. The darkest days of the Bush Era were settling like a dense fog over the entire country, and the outlook was bleak. That made The Ugly Organ especially potent, its gloomy inward focus a natural reflection of the era. The press accolades came quickly, from the mainstream (Rolling Stone called it “a brilliant leap forward,” and Entertainment Weekly said it “raised the Saddle Creek bar”) to the niche (The A.V. Club called it “a potent piece of rock art.” Alternative Press gave it a perfect score).

Plenty of those reviews referenced emo, which had splintered off from punk in the ‘80s but devolved into the flimsiest of marketing gimmicks by the new millennium. By 2003, the third wave of emo was crashing with a deluge of bands all too eager to ride their angsty pop to stardom. This was the year Alex Trebek referenced Cursive’s Saddle Creek labelmates Bright Eyes in a question whose correct response was “What is emo?” Cursive had started in the mid-’90s during emo’s second wave, and the band had little in common with the genre’s millennial torch-bearers, but reviewers had lumped them all together the same. “Cursive might just expand emo’s demographic to include the angsty 22-to-32 grad-student demographic,” went one typically positive-but-condescending review.

Not that The Ugly Organ lacked emo signifiers. Its confessional tone, jaundiced take on relationships, and self-loathing outed it, but the album’s ambition trumped any tidy labels. Calling it “daring,” The A.V. Club’s Noel Murray wrote in his “best music of 2003” list that “The Ugly Organ carries navel-gazing to compellingly bloody, winsomely sad, and even admirably pretentious extremes.”

By the end of 2003, Linkin Park, Avril Lavigne, Evanescence, and Toby Keith had some of the top-selling albums of the year, with OutKast, the White Stripes, and Fountains of Wayne topping that year’s Village Voice Pazz & Jop Critics’ Poll. If anything, the emo breakthrough of that year was Death Cab for Cutie’s Transatlanticism (#34 on Pazz & Jop), the band’s final release before ascending to major-label stardom.

But anyone with even a passing familiarity of music history knows that the charts and polls hardly tell the whole story. With The Ugly Organ, Cursive had made a landmark for itself and Saddle Creek. It was the label’s 51st release and the second in what my colleague Marc Hawthorne called “Saddle Creek’s holy trinity” in his liner notes for The Faint’s Danse Macabre reissue: Danse Macabre, The Ugly Organ, and Bright Eyes’ I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning. (I’d argue more for LIFTED or the Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground on that count, but I’ll save that for the next time I see Marc.)

Just prior to The Ugly Organ, Saddle Creek had released the celebratory compilation Saddle Creek 50, which included Cursive’s gleefully self-referential “Nonsense” (“I really don’t want to write another ‘I’m a dick’ song again”), which is included on this reissue. The label’s 49th release had been another Cursive joint, the “Art is Hard” single, which featured the explosive six-minute B-side “Sinner’s Serenade,” also included here. Rounding it out are four songs from Cursive’s split EP with Eastern Youth, 8 Songs to Eat You – check out the ferocious playing by cellist Gretta Cohn on “Excerpts from Various Notes Strewn Around the Bedroom of April Connolly, Feb 24, 1977” – and two songs from the single for “The Recluse.” It’s an exhaustive – and exhausting – snapshot of a band realizing its power and wielding it for maximum impact.

And then Cursive was gone. Again. Taking another one of its intermittent hiatuses. An unease has accompanied every album after The Ugly Organ that it could be the last one – no, for real this time. Maybe because The Ugly Organ capped an unprecedented productive streak, ending a three-record, three-year run with an album that can’t help but reflect the effort that went into it. The exhaustion, the ambivalence, the doubt, it all bleeds out of those 12 tracks. At the end of “Staying Alive,” the “ghost chorus” referenced in the liner notes sings, “The worst is over, Doo do Doo do Doo do Doo doo.” On second thought, maybe it's neither hope nor resignation, but simple relief. The storm has passed. And it was a motherfucker. 

Kyle Ryan

The A.V. Club

[oddball-in-the-scarf]

that post on about uncomfortable media makes me think a lot of about things

Honestly, some of my favourite films are ones that have made me cry and feel something for a long time, even as someone who is very mentally unwell and with such specific triggers and troubles, it ends up being more cathartic to me to watch them especially if they adhere to said troubles, because it feels like I am then able to confront them in a way after feeling ‘seen’. When I see something that distresses me, I often think about why it distresses me, and how it makes me feel, I’m often not able to articulate it, but I end up appreciating any media thats able to make me feel emotions of a kind, good or bad.

Even if I can’t reccommend any of such media as a casual viewing, if you can prepare yourself and are willing to try them out, I do say they are worth watching once.

One film I mentioned in the tags, Kill It And Leave This Town, is not a film I can reccommend to a lot of people, not only for its really uncomfortable subject matters, but also due to it being very slow and disjointed as a film with a very unclear narrative, theres a long scene of one character muttering to himself as he does crossword puzzles for example, yet its themes of death, seeing loved ones die and realising your memories with them weren’t all that great, and trying to make amends your own way in your own mind, was something that touched me in a way that no other media about death and mortality made me feel, and its a massive comfort film that way despite its uncomfortable subjects. Due to how disjointed my mind works the disjointment of the film and its narrative felt more suitable to me as well, but I understand when someone says they can’t get through the film either because its too much in its themes or is just too slow for them to get through.

Another film I mentioned, ‘Threads’, is something I can’t reccommend either, its a brutal film that tries to be as accurate as it can be on nuclear warfare, it also hits a little personal to me, as a lot of the characters being working class northeners in England remind me of northerners I’ve known and a lot of them feel like people I know (even if I’m more southern), which makes it all the more painful for me. But the way it brutally yet realistically depicts everything honestly ruined a lot of ‘post-nuclear-apocalypse’ media for me like Fallout, because now I can only think ‘please, it wouldn’t be nearly as optimistic!’ and I mean that in a good way! It really is a film that puts into perspective on how nuclear warfare is a very VERY bad idea (to put it lightly) and just how everything will collapse as a result. It’s to the point its a film that actively discouraged a lot of ‘pro-nuke’ sentiment at the time. It’s a film to definitely watch once and even if I did not ‘enjoy’ or was ‘entertained’ by it, I am glad I watched it, and I appreciate it for not pulling any punches, but hopefully I won’t see it again.

Last I mentioned was Birdboy: The Forgotten Children, its a bit more ‘mild’ compared to these other ones but still incredibly brutal, it dabbles into drugs, mental health, and wanting to escape a dying and oppressive community when there’s barely any chance of surviving in the first place. I can’t explain how this film makes me feel, mostly because I haven’t watched it in so long despite it being a film that has come to mean a lot to me, but also because theres so much emotion that the little animal kids make me feel and how they all try and survive and escape their island as you see all their individual struggles. The film like Kill It And Leave This Town is animated, bleak, and very metaphorical, and it portrays them all in ways where they have as much impact as things that are ‘real’, though this ends on a more hopeful note than Kill It. I feel if you are trying to get into upsetting films, this one is a good start.

[starlight-time-machine]

Week in Review

02/11/2024 – 02/17/2024

Sunday

The first Manga Sunday without Cipher Academy…maybe I should just walk into the ocean…

Girl Meets Rock continues to be surprisingly good with its realistic and down to earth writing on teenage emotions.

Undead Unluck is gearing up for another big fight, and I’m glad that Top is fully invested now.

Oshi no Ko is…it’s certainly strange for them to cast two siblings as a couple, no matter the circumstances… If this movie was released in our real world, the impact it’d have on the Japanese entertainment industry would be staggering, so I can certainly feel its weight.

Magilumiere was fine, I like Shigemoto’s new more goth lolita look, and I hope he keeps it going forward.

I watched the latest episode of Undead Unluck, and it was pretty okay. I saw people doomposting about the amount of recap, but I thought they were used artistically enough that it was passable, plus it did help to jog the audience’s memory since the show always has a lot of stuff going on. The last few recaps about Billy were truly egregious, though, but I guess they needed something to stretch out the episode and time the cliffhanger at the end. The scene where Juiz mentions Andy’s mole was glorious, and in general I liked the atmosphere of the episode. They managed to keep things engaging even when it was literally just twenty minutes of Juiz explaining the lore. The next arc is going to be pretty exciting…

I tried reading Whalefall by Daniel Kraus, but the writing was so painfully on the nose that it made me cringe, and I hate long introspective narratives anyway, so I dropped it.

After literal months, I finally picked Sammy Keyes and the Search for Snake Eyes back up and sped through the rest of it in one sitting. I was a little hesitant about van Draanen featuring Mexican gang culture in one of her mystery stories for children, but thankfully it didn’t come across as too stereotypical – I think van Draanen is good about seeing the complexities in the issues that kids and teens face (including non-white ones), and she doesn’t tend to flatten or moralize too much. Sammy’s life is just as chaotic as ever, with the stakes rising with each book, and it can really reduce me to a ball of stress, but this instalment kept the action moving quickly enough that things were okay soon enough. We get another scene of cathartic karmic justice for Heather’s shenanigans, and this time even the teachers have to eat crow, so that was fun. And I like that Officer Borsch is finally seeing for Sammy for who she really is, and the tension in their relationship that comes from the secrets that Sammy has to keep. Sammy has so many complex relationships, and that makes reading about her world so engaging.

Monday

Finally watched the season 4 finale of Downton Abbey, and it was a bit of a slog for me. I get that the writers want to expand the world and add more characters, but I really don’t care about any of them, especially when they start having subplots with each other and not with the main cast. I hate the Mary love triangle thing (the two men are literally indistinguishable to me), I hate the Tom possible new romances thing, I hate everything to do with Rose, etc etc. I do find it funny to see how surly and world weary Daisy has become, and at least we ended the season off with a beautiful Carson/Hughes moment.

Tuesday

Oh, finally some action in Downton Abbey. I’m glad to see Jimmy gone, he was annoying. And I like the weird little tentative friendship that Anna and Thomas have. Edith’s storyline with her daughter is the most interesting thing in the show right now, but again I lament how she always gets the short end of the stick in life.

Wednesday

I watched the new Game Changer season premiere with my friend, and it was pretty okay. I like that the rules of the game make for some interesting strategies, and I liked all the game show parodies they did, but other than that it didn’t particularly stand out to me.

Also caught up on Dirty Laundry while I was at it, but again nothing in the episode really left a lasting impression.

Thursday

Finished catching up with Dirty Laundry this morning, and I found this episode to be a lot more fun. Paul’s story was a particular highlight for me.

For this week’s DunMesh Thursday I’ve made 粉蒸肉, and thankfully it’s turned out perfectly. Unfortunately, the episode itself wasn’t much on food porn lol my timing’s always off… But it was such a fun and funny episode – Kabru’s party wiping out again, Laois’ singing annoying the sirens away (Kentarou Kumagai I always knew your vocals were slay), Laois not recognizing Kabru but recognizing the Kobold right away, Chilchuck chastising Laois multiple times, Senshi learning that magic isn’t all that bad, Laios getting a parasite…he’s such a freak and I love that.

Barrelled through Downton season 5 today, and I’m happy to say that I’m finally enjoying it again. Mary’s horribly boring love triangle plot is finally over, Edith can spend time with her daughter without too much stress hanging over her, I like the weird friendship Tom’s built with the sisters, Thomas has been humbled into helpfulness somewhat (it’s so funny how the Crawleys employ his craftiness at the sight of a common enemy), I like Moseley and Baxter’s romance, the Denker and Spratt rivalry is so stupid and funny because of their equally massive hater energies, and I’m loving that Isobel and Violet are actually friends now, and get romantic plotlines of their own. And of course, the Carson/Hughes proposal!!!!! It was perfectly awkward and sweet and the best thing to end off the season. It feels like I’m back at the beginning of the show again, where I know who everyone is and I care about their storylines because they’re actually interesting. Anna and Bates are the only ones where I feel the story kind of drags – it’s a little insane that they’re doing the imprisonment plot again but with the other party this time, but at least it doesn’t drag out for as long.

Friday

Undead Unluck…I remember the Anno Un arc making me cry in the manga, so I’m preparing myself for the weeks ahead. This episode was super cute, lots of meta and referential humor that’s fun for anyone who’s into manga history, and also lots of fun character gags and parodies going on. As a…well, I draw comics too, so I greatly feel Tozuka’s pain, and I imagine that this plot element was a cathartic one to write (if only I also had six extra arms to do things for me…). They gave us a little glimpse this week, but next week we finally get to see anime Canada so that’ll be super fun for me.

Wow, this was a surprisingly good episode of Drag Race. I think this is one of the best Rusicals they’ve ever had – I liked most of the songs, the choreo was fun and varied, the characters were distinct, and there were honestly no real weak links in the cast (they really had to nitpick to choose the bottom three). It was fantastic to see Plasma and Sapphira in their elements and absolutely knocking their parts out of the park, and I’m glad to see another win for Plasma (finally some justice for the endearingly annoying white musical theater gays). And then the runway was also amazing, Plasma, Sapphira, and Q were the clear and deserved tops, but I also liked Nymphia’s cactus dress and Xunami’s bouquet dress.

Watched through the beginning of Downton’s last season and it’s really fun. I love that Edith is becoming an independent career woman who’s learning how to run her own business, and she’s finally getting a love interest who’s just a normal guy and not twice her age or married to an institutionalized woman or an imposter of a childhood crush (literally what the fuck was up with that plotline. It showed up for a single episode and seemed to just be there to fuck with Edith for the millionth time). Daisy’s fickleness is annoying me a bit – you’d think after six seasons she would’ve matured a little bit, but she’s just as beholden by her whims as ever. Hughes and Carson’s wedding was so sweet and cute, and it’s hilarious that Branson shows up again like he didn’t spend just three short episodes in Boston before swiftly changing his mind.

Saturday

I’ve finished Downton Abbey…well, the show, at least. And I think I can say that it has a pretty perfect finale. This whole season was great, with a lot of dramatic storylines that I felt invested in but also some more comedic ones that kept the tone light (Denker and Spratt come to mind). I love that Edith gets to have her wedding be the finale of the series, and the way that it brings together everyone on the show makes her feel truly loved for once. After six seasons of misery, it’s wonderful to see her finally happy. Some other highlights from the season were Edith calling Mary a bitch, which was extremely deserved. Since the beginning, Mary’s constant putdowns of Edith never sat right with me (no matter how clever her insults were) so it’s extremely cathartic to see Edith stand up for herself for once. And then I loved seeing Lady Grantham as a mom, sending her son a new puppy when they’ve had a fight. Carson didn’t start the season off in a very favourable light, with him being demanding with Hughes and insensitive with Thomas, but at least he came around by the end for his bittersweet goodbye as the butler of Downton. Speaking of Thomas, I’m slightly mad that Mrs. Patmore never apologized for assuming that he and Andy were doing something untoward – they even had the scene where Andy admits that he can’t read in front of Mrs. Patmore and Thomas, and we don’t even get a shot of Mrs. Patmore realizing that she’d been mistaken. Thomas definitely had an extremely rough go of this season, and it made me so sad to see him genuinely shaken and lonely, but at least he finally got what he wanted at the end. I haven’t watched the movies yet but I really really really hope they give him a romantic interest in them, I think he deserves one… I like that the finale has all the couples happy, with a few still up in the air (Molesley/Baxter, Andy/Daisy) so it doesn’t feel like a total cheesefest. This would definitely be an episode I’d return to if I wanted some comfort food.

As a whole, Downton Abbey was definitely a show of ups and downs. When it was all working, it was marvellous – all these interesting characters that I cared about having interesting interactions and finding a way through their lives and romances and careers. But when it wasn’t working (cough season 4 cough), it was an absolute slog to get through, and I think the show’s biggest weakness is how it can’t convincingly write two people falling in love over a period of time to save its life, which is troublesome when that’s what 80% of the show is about. I think the first season started off with a big dream and a strong conflict that petered out as they didn’t know how to resolve it in an interesting way, and then it was just getting its footing when two major characters left the show at the end of season 3. Season 4 definitely felt like the writers were scrambling and throwing anything they could think of at the wall, and it didn’t go over well with me at all. But they eventually found their groove again, and cut back on the amount of characters so that we could really focus on the ones I was actually invested in. And after so many trials and tribulations, it ended on the perfect note. It’ll be a 6/10 from me.

[dissocialed]

I'd grown bitter and resentful comparing myself with people who could easily make friends. Not because I was desperately lonely. I liked my own company best. I'd always known this. It's the earliest thing I recall knowing. But because I was desperately *bored* and wanted to experience what they did. I felt somewhat entitled to it.

After all, I did all the right things as I was told. I was polite, wore a smile and helped people with their problems. But whenever anyone would talk at me I could only tolerate them. This was severely discouraging. I found it more annoying than cathartic. Is this what everyone's always on about? Is this the magic I was promised?

It was frustrating that I never seemed to "click" with anyone and earnestly enjoy their company over my own. Objectively, there is nothing wrong with them. Not technically. So why. This left me very confused as I'd grown up in a largely empathy based society believing I was empathic myself. But everyone I'd met only made me feel the same.

"Meh."

Never had I actively wished for anyone to be in my life, only if they were interesting, entertaining or had something to offer. But watching others is very different from engaging with them on a personal basis. Here, I remain lost.

I can be social and charismatic through a manufactured persona but tend to keep private. I compartmentalize so well, many people only *think* they know me as I strategically reveal pieces of information to give the impression of openness-- but it's shallow.

How do you describe the phenomena of having charmed a number of loyal acquaintances that would do most anything you requested without personally having any deeper, closer connections or confidants?

I don't feel compelled to seek friendship for its sake. I never get the impulse to share my thoughts or interests in hopes of becoming friends, but simply because I wish to hear how my own genius, my own thoughts are received.

It really does begin to feel dull and empty. Like an itch you can't scratch. Every human needs enrichment. To be engaged. Bonds are supposed to inspire, empower, excite and impassion us. They make life more bearable, more vibrant. There is safety in understanding.

But for someone like myself, it's unfortunate we may only experience this unique solace, this joy once or twice if we are lucky, our whole lives. This possibly explains why sociopaths may do some reckless and thrill seeking things in attempt to satiate it.

So how do I quench my thirst for life?

How does anyone? It's the big question. I think most people stumble upon the answers near the end of their lifetimes.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 13 - Spinning

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Angst

Summary: You and Gojo are caught up in your feelings and he unintentionally breaks another rule. 

A/N: (18+ / minors and ageless blogs dni) New chapter! This is a bit of a filler chapter but I am working up to some dramatic things (smut and angst coming up!) plus revealing some of the secrets that happened in the timeline 👀 I hope you enjoy it! And as always comments are appreciated ☺️

- - - 

Sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor, you proceeded to fold the fresh laundry into perfectly neat piles. Music enveloped your room, the bass from your speaker bouncing off the walls as you mindlessly hummed along to the track that was playing. This is how you were choosing to unwind after a long work week, by organizing and cleaning up your apartment. There was something completely cathartic about resetting your space and you found yourself having plenty of free time on your hands recently.

Gojo has been exceptionally busy. At first there was an itch when you began seeing less of him, the two of you would plan to get together but that consistently kept getting cancelled. Eventually those plans transitioned to you agreeing on catching up with one another once things settled. Now it seems the only time you managed to hear from your friend was with sporadic phone calls and random text messages that he would send you at weird hours. The itch slowly turned into an ache, that familiar knot in your stomach making its presence known more often than usual.

There was something about the way he managed to fill the silence. You always gave him a hard time about talking your ear off but realised that he actually entertained you with some great conversations.

Even though half the time he was talking about ridiculous subject matters…

You had to hand it to Satoru though, he always spoke with such enthusiasm he would make the concept of paint drying seem fascinating.

He was fascinating.

Eight years of friendship have taught you that but you were smart enough not to feed his ego. Despite the two of you being close, Gojo still never fully let you in. You couldn’t deny that you were intrigued by him, curious to know more about the strongest sorcerer who seemed totally unphased by his own title whenever he was around you. You wanted to know more about how he fought off curses and protected people from the evils that seemed to be invisible in your eyes. Although he consistently evaded your questions, he did slowly open up about other things. You particularly loved the way his face let up when he talked about his students and it made you realise that if there was anything Gojo Satoru had committed himself to, it was his role as an instructor to the next generation of sorcerers.

Still, you usually tried to pry information out of him when the two of you would get lost in deep conversation, noticing the way Gojo would drift in his own thoughts whenever the subject seemed to focus on him.

Clearly there was an extent to which the man loved talking about himself.

There was a point when he spoke where you saw his face grow pensive as he brought up an old friend. He referenced him in passing but the way his mouth fell pained you just as much as it seemed to hurt him. Your question was on the tip of your tongue, eager to learn more about the people within his own circle, but Satoru immediately shifted the conversation onto something else.

That wall, much like his infinity, is impenetrable.

Unfortunately, the dynamics were in his favor. You wished that you could conceal your own emotions as easily around him but it was impossible. Gojo had the capability of knowing exactly how you were thinking and feeling at any given second. His incredible perception was his advantage, that’s why he is able to gauge your reactions so well.

You smiled subconsciously to yourself, goosebumps floating up to your shoulders when you realised how much you wanted your arms wrapped around his neck, your body pressing into his chest while breathing that spicy, sweet cologne…

Stop it.

You paused your action, the jeans on your lap in a mid-fold as you froze in place and your brain instantly turned off those dangerous ideas.  

You swallowed your own emotions, your abdomen tight when you realised that you had just spent the last ten minutes having intimate thoughts about Gojo.

You really shouldn’t but there was something about the way he acts around you that made you the slightest bit curious as to what he was thinking and how he was feeling.

How often did you cross his mind and did he even miss you as much as you did him?

At some point the two of you were going to have to stop this little game you were playing. Even though you weren’t seeking it out at the moment, you do want to settle down eventually with somebody you love. Satoru made it perfectly clear where he stood on relationships. He had no desire to get involved with anybody and the concept of marriage was something he completely rejected.

You recalled having a conversation with him about: 

“Are you really telling me that you’re okay living as a bachelor for the rest of your life?”

“Happily, actually…” Gojo replied, while you both continued your heated debate on the prospects of love.

“But why are you so against it?”

"I have my reasons,” he replied with a shrug.

Satoru always seemed to have a reason for everything but he was not willing to share it with you, leaving you in moments like this to analyze the little things he says to try and put the pieces together yourself.

Truthfully, you don’t want to stop as you found yourself fixated on this new…friends with benefits-ship…

Everything about it felt so good that you couldn’t even remember what things were like before you started hooking up.

How could you go back to just being friends after he’s seen you in your most vulnerable state? How were you supposed to pretend that his hands haven’t unraveled you into submission time and time again? How could you sit next to him without thinking about kissing him for hours on end? How were you supposed to listen to him talk without remembering the moments where he would whisper angel in your ear?

How the hell did you manage to keep your hands off him before this even started?

There was always the unspoken fact that you found each other attractive but since this new dynamic has started the two of you were like magnets whenever you were in close proximity to one another.

Well, you were able to keep the barrier because you were in a happily committed relationship with Haru, you interjected and suddenly you found yourself slumping your shoulders.

Haru was in love with you. He gave you the companionship you needed, he filled the silence with mindless conversations and was the one who held you when you needed him. He was the one to swallow your cries with soft kisses, that made you laugh in hysterics when you needed to boost your mood…

Your heart stopped, realizing that you were seeking out what Haru gave you with Gojo. Your gut wrenching at the idea of you using your friend to fill the emotional gap that Haru left. This ache that knotted your insides meant nothing and you were letting your thoughts confuse you into thinking that you were missing Gojo.

All you needed was to get your distraction back.

After all, Gojo is just your friend.

You had no reason to think anything else could come of this and burned any other thought about Satoru from crossing your mind for the rest of the evening.

If you even thought for a second that you might be falling for him, you would cut ties immediately. You weren’t going to put a strain on your friendship because you’re silly ideals were getting in the way of your agreement.

The two of you were just fucking.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

Gojo studied the woman before him, acknowledging the fact that she is one of the most stunning individuals he had ever laid his eyes on. She was older than him by ten years but if it wasn’t for the age on her online profile, he wouldn’t have been able to tell.

She was tall, meeting his own towering height, give or take a few inches. Her long, pin straight hair flowed to her hips, accentuating her curves and covering her supple breasts. Her face could strike down any man that looked at her with those deep eyes and he was tempted to nibble on her full lips. Seeing her in person made Gojo realize that her price was high for a reason and totally justifiable.

Anyone would pay extra to fuck a goddess.

Somehow, he wound up here thanks to his own frustrations. His desire for you was driving him wild and his own hands weren’t enough to solve this problem. He still respected the rules that were unbroken and knew that as long as he didn’t go too far with Ami, he was fine. He wasn’t going to have sex with her but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t help him out with his current predicament in other ways.

Besides, you did tell him that he was allowed to see other people. However, that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting at the thought of climbing into bed with someone other than you. He couldn’t quite figure out what this awkward sensation was or why he was bothered by his own decision to meet up with Ami in the first place.

Gojo stripped down to his boxers before sitting on the edge of her satin covered mattress. She was admiring him with amusement, the tempting smile on her lips telling him that she was also enjoying what she was seeing.

“You paid for a full hour but said that you might not be here for that long. Did something urgent come up?” she questioned, her voice sensually low and sending a shiver up Gojo’s spine.

My she is dangerous, he thought to himself, knowing full well how this entire experience would go under different circumstances.

The circumstances being, well, you.

“I don’t plan on sticking around too long...” he explained.

“I’ll have to adjust your pay accordingly then,” she replied, taking a few steps forward until she was standing in front of him.

“I don’t mind paying for the full hour,” Gojo teased with a grin, his free hand moving to touch her silky hair as he rubbed it between his fingers.

She smiled, nearly taking his breath away as she brought her finger to the blindfold covering his eyes.

“I don’t like accepting money for free,” she  stated, tracing her touch down his chiseled jawline. “I bet you’re handsome but I am guessing you don’t plan on taking this thing off to show me what you really look like.”

“Yep,” Gojo smiled as Ami proceeded to slide across her bed next to him. "And you guessed right, I’ve got an exceptionally pretty face.”

“Cocky too,” she purred, “there’s a special way I treat guys like you…”

Gojo hummed, switching his position so he was lying back against her pillows. Ami crawled her body over his lean torso, her hands rubbing up and down his thigh as she glanced in his direction.

“Oh, yeah? I would love to see how...” Gojo insisted, his breath growing heavy as she guided her hand all the way to his mouth.

She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, a devious mask highlighting her stunning features as she spoke, “Be a good boy and lie back while I take care of you…”

He fully caved, allowing this sultry siren to take control by touching and teasing his body however she pleased. Gojo usually enjoyed relinquishing his power every now and then but for whatever reason it was taking some effort for him to fully immerse himself with what was happening. Ami straddled his cock, before proceeding to press her mouth against his. Her lips were working fervently over his own as she deepened the kiss, but the spark that he needed just wasn’t igniting.

When Ami flicked her tongue over his, he would only think about the sensation of yours. The taste of you in his mouth lingered like an addictive poison. One that he craved every single time you crossed his mind. The sound of your moans played in his ear and the sweet way you called out his name when he touched you between your legs filtered his brain. He was only brought back to the reality that it wasn’t you pushing your body against his, when Ami wrapped her fingers around his throat. He tried to erase you and focus on the woman before him but was persistently failing.

She could see that something was off from how he was responding to her caresses. “Are you sure you're up for this tonight, baby?” Ami teased, whispering into his mouth as she snagged his bottom lip between her teeth. “You don’t seem ready for me...”

“Fuck…” Gojo grunted out of frustration, knocking his head back as he pressed his fingers to his temple. “It’s not you, I’m just distracted…”

“What’s on your mind?” she continued, stroking his broad chest lovingly to try and coax him out of the daze he was in.

“Not what...who…” he responded shyly, his cheeks blushing ever so slightly by his admittance.

“I see…” she cooed, “Wife? Girlfriend?”

Gojo scoffed, a comical laugh escaping him as he shook his head.

“Definitely not.”

Ami pressed her lips together, her nail doodling along his upper body with random figures as she continued to question her intriguing client.

“Tell me about her…”

Gojo froze, his hands digging into Ami’s thighs upon hearing her bold question, “she’s just a friend. There’s nothing to say...”

“Is she beautiful?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Gojo exhaled, his words passing his lips faster than he could process what he had just said. Ami tracked her hands down between her legs, stroking his boxers as she massaged his length.

“Tell me what she looks like…”

He described you in detail, from your sinfully sweet lips to the beautiful sound of your laughter and how soft your skin felt in his hands. She continued tricking him into revealing the intimate thoughts that swirled in his mind when he thought about you. She heard the way Gojo’s voice wavered as he swelled between her hands, the tip of his cock poking through his underwear as the pre-cum stained the material of his boxers. Ami pulled the clothing away from his hips, hands returning to grip his member as she continued stroking up and down his shaft.

“Do you think about fucking her with the other women you meet?”

“Yes,” Gojo revealed through gritted teeth, swallowing hard as she played with his tip by circling his thumb over the slit of his cock.

“How often?”

“Too often,” the sorcerer hissed, his hips bucking into her hands.

“I bet you wish you were fucking her right now, don’t you?”

She saw how turned on he is and how easily the thought of you brought him close to his release. Ami spread her legs, adjusting her stance until she brought the tip of his cock to her entrance. Gojo hesitated, knowing that he needed to stop what was about to happen. This wasn’t supposed to go this far. He was only here for a quick hand job or blowjob, but he couldn’t suppress a satisfied moan as she slid down to take in his length.

“F-fuck, wai-...”

“Shh, baby, close your eyes and think of your sweet angel…” Ami whispered in his ear, making Gojo roll his blue irises to the back of his head as he relaxed into her touch.

She didn’t speak after that, fulfilling her promise of taking care of him but also ensuring that his focus was solely on the mental image of you. The sound of her skin bouncing up and down his length took over the entire room. The way Ami stated that you were his was enough to send him over the edge and it didn’t take long until he climaxed at the thought, quickly pulling out of her and releasing hot ropes of cum all over her stomach but imagining that it was you the entire time. She immediately cleaned herself up after they finished, before giving Gojo some privacy and allowing him to get himself together.

After he got dressed, he pulled out his phone to transfer the payment. He doubled the amount he was supposed to give, totally aware that she didn’t reach her own release and was disappointed in himself that he couldn’t pleasure the remarkable temptress before him.

He slipped on his boots, his mind racing as the guilt rushed right through him. He hated that broke another rule, especially since this particular one was a boundary you set for your own comfort. He was angry at himself that he disrespected that and was annoyed for crossing the line in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, he thought to himself.

“I told you I don’t get paid for doing nothing. I don't accept money like that, not even from spoiled rich boys like you,” Ami stated, her words stung but she spoke in such a gentle tone that didn’t offend the sorcerer. She was leaning against the wall as she appeared before him, her body now covered with just a pink robe.

“You got me off but I did nothing to reciprocate. I tell all the other girls to charge double if that happens.”

“How considerate,” she mused before arching her brow in delight at him, “but for the sake of my own conscience I feel like I need to give you something in return…”

Gojo stood up from his seat, smoothing out his clothes before approaching her slowly. Even though he got what he wanted out of this arrangement, he was feeling worse about himself the longer he stayed in this room.

“How about a piece of advice before you leave and we can call it even?” Ami questioned.

“What is it?” the sorcerer wondered, hearing her feet patter against the carpet as she followed his footsteps to her front door.

She paused when she reached for the handle, before tilting her face and directing her full attention towards his covered eyes.

“Tell your friend how you feel or cut off whatever it is you’re doing. If you don’t tell her then you’re fucked, plain and simple.”

“Look, what happened just now doesn’t mean anything…”

She raised her fingers to his lips, stopping him from even attempting to defend what transpired.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re easy to read. I have had clients come here trying to forget their lovers and those who come to see me because they can’t resist their own primative urges. I see the ones who are lonely, who only visit me for companionship and nothing more. Then there are the ones who are like you, who will bury themselves in any cunt they see just to pretend that they aren’t in love with somebody else…”

Gojo clenched his jaw, squeezing his hands together as the heat rose up to his face.

“You don't know what you're talking about. Besides, wanting to fuck somebody and being in love are two very different things.”

“True, except those two things are tangled up in one person when it comes to you…”

Gojo pressed his lips into a thin line, unsure as to why her accusation made him so irritated.

“Awww, don’t get angry, pretty boy. It’s unbecoming for somebody as handsome as you are…” Ami whispered, before kissing him on the cheek as she said her goodbye. “It’s okay, I promise that your secret is safe with me…”

*** 

CHAPTER 14: JEALOUSY

[cipheramnesia]

I saw Southland Tales was free to watch, so I figured I'd see what all the screaming was about, and it's a fascinating piece of work.

First thing is that it's less a movie and more like something aliens would make if they never saw a movie but heard one described. It feels like getting to see one of those fake movies on television in a real movie.

What's interesting is that the dialog and performances are consistent enough that it seems to be intentional. As a satire of political intrigue and action movies it is, if nothing else, probably doing exactly what it thinks it's supposed to be doing. From the perspective of "is this the movie the director set out to make" the answer is probably yes, and in that context it's successful.

But is it good? Well, most criticisms reviled it as incoherent so I would first of all disagree, which to me suggests many critics weren't paying enough attention to accurately criticize the movie. The question more becomes was the satire something which landed and taken in its entirety does the movie provide any sort of emotional or intellectual fulfillment.

The satire, I think, is not successful. While many of the various subjects are lampooned effectively, it's not in service to anything except maybe a message that there is no hope of organized action so we may as well just die. It's entertaining, I think. It's filled with humor and action and strangeness, so at the baseline it clears the bar of being fun to watch. But beyond that, it doesn't spend enough time in any one area or topic to give me a cathartic or thought provoking experience.

However, as a movie that could be best described as "a bunch of stuff that happens" its something unique, different if nothing else and probably worth watching just on that basis alone.

[potteresque-ire]

Can you talk more about the usage of the word "wife" to talk about men in the BL context? I've noticed it in BJYX (particularly with GG), in the (English translations) of MDZS, and then it came up in your recent posts about Danmei-101 (which were super helpful btw) with articles connecting the "little fresh meat" type to fans calling an actor "wife." My initial reaction as a westerner is like "this is very problematic," but I think I'm missing a lot of language/cultural context. Any thoughts?

Hello! First of all, for those who’re interested, here’s a link to the referred posts. Under the cut is arguably the 4th post of the series. As usual, I apologise for the length!

(Topics: seme and uke; more about “leftover women”; roster of feminisation terms; Daji, Bao Si & the origin of BJYX; roster of beautiful, ancient Chinese men; Chairman Mao (not part of the roster) ...)

[TW: feminisation of men]

In the traditional BL characterisation, the M/M (double male) lead pairing is essentially a cis-het relationship in disguise, in which one of the M leads is viewed as the “wife” by the creator and audience. This lead often possesses some of the features of the traditional, stereotypical female, but retaining his male appearance. 

In BL terms, the “wife” is the “uke”. “Seme” and “uke” are the respective roles taken by the two male leads, and designated by the creator of the material. Literally, “seme” (攻め) means the dominant, the attacking / aggressive partner in the relationship and “uke” (受け), the passive / recipient (of actions) partner who tends to follow the seme’s lead. The terms themselves do not have any sexual / gender context.  However, as male and female are viewed as aggressive and passive by their traditional social roles, and the attacker and recipient by their traditional sexual roles respectively, BL fandoms have long assigned uke, the passive, sexual “bottom”, as the “woman”, the “wife”. 

Danmei has kept this “semi” and uke” tradition from BL, taking the kanji of the Japanese terms for designation ~ 攻 (”attack” is therefore the “husband”, and 受 (”receive”), the “wife”. The designations are often specified in the introduction / summary of Danmei works as warning / enticement. For MDZS, for example, MXTX wrote:

高貴冷豔悶騷 攻 × 邪魅狂狷風騷 受

高貴冷豔悶騷 攻 = noble, coolly beautiful and boring seme (referring to LWJ)  邪魅狂狷風騷 受 = devilishly charming, wild, and flirty uke (referring to WWX) 

The traditional, stereotypical female traits given to the “uke”, the “wife” in Danmei and their associated fanworks range from their personality to behaviour to even biological functions. Those who have read the sex scenes in MDZS may be aware of their lack of mention of lube, while WWX was written as getting (very) wet from fluids from his colon (腸道) ~ implying that his colon, much like a vagina, was supplying the necessarily lubrication for sex. This is obviously biologically inaccurate; however, Danmei is exempt from having to be realistic by its original Tanbi definition. The genre’s primary audience is cishet females, and sex scenes such as this one aren’t aiming for realism. Rather, the primary goal of these sex scenes is to generate fantasy, and the purpose of the biologically female functions in one of the leads (WWX) is to ease the readers into imagining themselves as the one engaging in the sex.

Indeed, these practices of assigning as males and female the M/M sexual top and bottom, of emphasising of who is the top and who is the bottom, have been falling out of favour in Western slash fandoms ~ I joined fandom about 15 years ago, and top and bottom designations in slash pairings (and fights about them) were much more common than it is now.  The generally more open, more progressive environments in which Western fandomers are immersed in probably have something to do with it: they transfer their RL knowledge, their views on biology, on different social into their fandom works and discourses. 

I’d venture to say this: in the English-speaking fandoms, fandom values and mainstream values are converging. “Cancel culture” reflects an attempt to enforce RL values in the fictional worlds in fandom. Fandom culture is slowly, but surely, leaving its subculture status and becoming part of mainstream culture. 

I’d hesitate to call c-Danmei fandoms backward compared to Western slash for this reason. There’s little hope for Danmei to converge with China’s mainstream culture in the short term ~ the necessity of replacing Danmei with Dangai in visual media already reflects that. Danmei is and will likely remain subculture in the foreseeable future, and subcultures, at heart, are protests against the mainstream. Unless China and the West define “mainstream” very similarly (and they don’t), it is difficult to compare the “progressiveness”—and its dark side, the “problematic-ness”—of the protests, which are shaped by what they’re protesting against. The “shaper” in this scenario, the mainstream values and culture, are also far more forceful under China’s authoritarian government than they are in the free(-er) world. 

Danmei, therefore, necessarily takes on a different form in China than BL or slash outside China. As a creative pursuit, it serves to fulfil psychological needs that are reflective of its surrounding culture and sociopolitical environment. The genre’s “problematic” / out of place aspects in the eyes of Western fandoms are therefore, like all other aspects of the genre, tailor-made by its millions of fans to be comforting / cathartic for the unique culture and sociopolitical background it and they find themselves in. 

I briefly detoured to talk about the Chinese government’s campaign to pressure young, educated Chinese women into matrimony and motherhood in the post for this reason, as it is an example of how, despite Western fandoms’ progressiveness, they may be inadequate, distant for c-Danmei fans. Again, this article is a short and a ... morbidly-entertaining read on what has been said about China’s “leftover women” (剩女) — women who are unmarried and over 27-years-old). I talked about it, because “Women should enter marriage and parenthood in their late 20s” may no longer a mainstream value in many Western societies, but where it still is, it exerts a strong influence on how women view romance, and by extension, how they interact with romantic fiction, including Danmei.

In China, this influence is made even stronger by the fact that Chinese tradition  places a strong emphasis on education and holds a conservative attitude towards romance and sex. Dating while studying therefore remains discouraged in many Chinese families. University-educated Chinese women therefore have an extremely short time frame — between graduation (~23 years old) and their 27th birthday — to find “the right one” and get married, before they are labelled as “leftovers” and deemed undesirable. (Saving) face being an important aspect in Chinese culture introduces yet another layer of pressure: traditionally, women who don’t get married by the age agreed by social norms have been viewed as failures of upbringing, in that the unmarried women’s parents not having taught/trained their daughters well. Filial, unmarried women therefore try to get married “on time” just to avoid bringing shame to their family.

The outcome is this: despite the strong women characters we may see in Chinese visual media, many young Chinese women nowadays do not expect themselves to be able to marry for love. Below, I offer a “book jacket summary” of a popular internet novel in China, which shows how the associated despair also affects cis-het fictional romance. Book reviews praise this novel for being “boring”: the man and woman leads are both common working class people, the “you-and-I”’s; the mundaneness of them trying build their careers and their love life is lit by one shining light: he loves her and she loves him. 

Written in her POV, this summary reflects, perhaps, the disquiet felt by many contemporary Chinese women university graduates:

曾經以為，自己這輩子都等不到了—— 世界這麼大，我又走得這麼慢，要是遇不到良人要怎麼辦？早過了「全球三十幾億男人，中國七億男人，天涯何處無芳草」的猖狂歲月，越來越清楚，循規蹈矩的生活中，我們能熟悉進而深交的異性實在太有限了，有限到我都做好了「接受他人的牽線，找個適合的男人慢慢煨熟，再平淡無奇地進入婚姻」的準備，卻在生命意外的拐彎處迎來自己的另一半。

I once thought, my wait will never come to fruition for the rest of my life — the world is so big, I’m so slow in treading it, what if I’ll never meet the one? I’ve long passed the wild days of thinking “3 billion men exist on Earth, 0.7 of which are Chinese. There is plenty more fish in the sea.” I’m seeing, with increasing clarity, that in our disciplined lives, the number of opposite-sex we can get to know, and get to know well, is so limited. It’s so limited that I’m prepared to accept someone’s matchmaking, find a suitable man and slowly, slowly, warm up to him, and then, to enter marriage with without excitement, without wonder. But then, an accidental turn in my life welcomes in my other half.

— Oath of Love (餘生，請多指教) (Yes, this is the novel Gg’d upcoming drama is based on.) 

Heteronormativity is, of course, very real in China. However, that hasn’t exempted Chinese women, even its large cis-het population, from having their freedom to pursue their true love taken away from them. Even for cis-het relationships, being able to marry for love has become a fantasy —a fantasy scorned by the state. Remember this quote from Article O3 in the original post? 

耽改故事大多远离现实，有些年轻受众却将其与生活混为一谈，产生不以结婚和繁衍为目的才是真爱之类的偏颇认知。

Most Dangai stories are far removed from reality; some young audience nonetheless mix them up with real life, develop biased understanding such as “only love that doesn’t treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations is true love”. 

I didn’t focus on it in the previous posts, in an effort to keep the discussion on topic. But why did the op-ed piece pick this as an example of fantasy-that-shouldn’t-be-mixed-up-with-real-life, in the middle of a discussion about perceived femininity of men that actually has little to do with matrimony and reproduction? 

Because the whole point behind the state’s “leftover women” campaign is precisely to get women to treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations, not beautiful sceneries that happen along the way. And they’re the state’s destination as more children = higher birth rate that leads to higher future productivity. The article is therefore calling out Danmei for challenging this “mainstream value”.

Therefore, while the statement True love doesn’t treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations may be trite for many of us while it may be a point few, if any, English-speaking fandoms may pay attention to, to the mainstream culture Danmei lives in, to the mainstream values dictated by the state, it is borderline subversive.

As much as Danmei may appear “tame” for its emphasis on beauty and romance, for it to have stood for so long, so firmly against China’s (very) forceful mainstream culture, the genre is also fundamentally rebellious.  Remember: Danmei has little hope of converging with China’s mainstream unless it “sells its soul” and removes its homoerotic elements. 

With rebelliousness, too, comes a bit of tongue-in-cheek.

And so, when c-Danmei fans, most of whom being cishet women who interact with the genre by its traditional BL definition, call one of the leads 老婆 (wife), it can and often take on a different flavour. As said before, it can be less about feminizing the lead than about identifying with the lead. The nickname 老婆 (wife) can be less about being disrespectful and more about humorously expressing an aspiration—the aspiration to have a husband who truly loves them, who they do want to get married and have babies with but out of freedom and not obligation.

Admittedly, I had been confused, and bothered by these “can-be”s myself. Just because there are alternate reasons for the feminisation to happen doesn’t mean the feminisation itself is excusable. But why the feminisation of M/M leads doesn’t sound as awful to me in Chinese as in English? How can calling a self-identified man 老婆 (wife) get away with not sounding being predominantly disrespectful to my ears, when I would’ve frowned at the same thing said in my vicinity in English?

I had an old hypothesis: when I was little, it was common to hear people calling acquaintances in Chinese by their unflattering traits:  “Deaf-Eared Chan” (Mr Chan, who’s deaf), “Fat Old Woman Lan” (Ah-Lan, who’s an overweight woman) etc—and the acquaintances were perfectly at ease with such identifications, even introducing themselves to strangers that way. Comparatively speaking then, 老婆 (wife) is harmless, even endearing. 

老婆, which literally means “old old-lady” (implying wife = the woman one gets old with), first became popularised as a colloquial, casual way of calling “wife” in Hong Kong and its Cantonese dialect, despite the term itself being about 1,500 years old. As older generations of Chinese were usually very shy about talking about their love lives, those who couldn’t help themselves and regularly spoke of their 老婆 tended to be those who loved their wives in my memory. 老婆, as a term, probably became endearing to me that way. 

Maybe this is why the feminisation of M/M leads didn’t sound so bad to me?

This hypothesis was inadequate, however. This custom of identifying people by their (unflattering) traits has been diminishing in Hong Kong and China, for similar reasons it has been considered inappropriate in the West.

Also, 老婆 (wife) is not the only term used for / associated with feminisation. I’ve tried to limit the discussion to Danmei, the fictional genre; now, I’ll jump to its associated RPS genre, and specifically, the YiZhan fandoms. The purpose of this jump: with real people involved, feminisation’s effect is potentially more harmful, more acute. Easier to feel. 

YiZhan fans predominantly entered the fandoms through The Untamed, and they’ve also transferred Danmei’s  “seme”/“uke” customs into YiZhan. There are, therefore, three c-YiZhan fandoms:

博君一肖 (BJYX): seme Dd, uke Gg 戰山為王 (ZSWW): seme Gg, uke Dd 連瑣反應 (LSFY): riba Gg and Dd. Riba = “reversible”, and unlike “seme” and “uke”, is a frequently-used term in the Japanese gay community. 

BJYX is by far the largest of the three, likely due to Gg having played WWX, the “uke” in MDZS / TU. I’ll therefore focus on this fandom, ie. Gg is the “uke”, the “wife”.

For Gg alone, I’ve seen him being also referred to by YiZhan fans as (and this is far from a complete list):

* 姐姐 (sister) * 嫂子 (wife of elder brother; Dd being the elder brother implied) * 妃妃 (based on the very first YiZhan CP name, 太妃糖 Toffee Candy, a portmanteau of sorts from Dd being the 太子 “prince” of his management company and Gg being the prince’s wife, 太子妃. 糖 = “candy”. 太妃 sounds like toffee in English and has been used as the latter’s Chinese translation.) * 美人 (beauty, as in 肖美人 “Beauty Xiao”) * Daji 妲己 (as in 肖妲己, “Daji Xiao”). 

The last one needs historical context, which will also become important for explaining the new hypothesis I have.

Daji was a consort who lived three thousand years ago, whose beauty was blamed for the fall of the Shang dynasty. Gg (and men sharing similar traits, who are exceptionally rare) has been compared to Daji 妲己 for his alternatively innocent, alternatively seductive beauty ~ the kind of beauty that, in Chinese historical texts and folk lores, lead to the fall of kingdoms when possessed by the king’s beloved woman. This kind of “I-get-to-ruin-her-virginity”, “she’s a slut in MY bedroom” beauty is, of course, a stereotypical fantasy for many (cis-het) men, which included the authors of these historical texts and folklores. However, it also contained some truth: the purity / innocence, the image of a virgin, was required for an ancient woman to be chosen as a consort; the seduction, meanwhile, helped her to become the top consort, and monopolise the attention of kings and emperors who often had hundreds of wives ~ wives who often put each other in danger to eliminate competition. 

Nowadays, women of tremendous beauty are still referred to by the Chinese idiom 傾國傾城, literally, ”falling countries, falling cities”. The beauty is also implied to be natural, expressed in a can’t-help-itself way, perhaps reflecting the fact that the ancient beauties on which this idiom has been used couldn’t possibly have plastic surgeries, and most of them didn’t meet a good end ~ that they had to pay a price for their beauty, and often, with their lowly status as women, as consorts, they didn’t get to choose whether they wanted to pay this price or not. This adjective is considered to be very flattering. Gg’s famous smile from the Thailand Fanmeet has been described, praised as 傾城一笑: “a smile that topples a city”.

I’m explaining Daji and 傾國傾城 because the Chinese idiom 博君一笑 “doing anything to get a smile from you”, from which the ship’s name BJYX 博君一肖  was derived (笑 and 肖 are both pronounced “xiao”), is connected to yet another of such dynasty-falling beauty, Bao Si 褒姒. Like Daji before her, Bao Si was blamed for the end of the Zhou Dynasty in 771 BC. 

The legend went like this: Bao Si was melancholic, and to get her to smile, her king lit warning beacons and got his nobles to rush in from the nearby vassal states with their armies to come and rescue him, despite not being in actual danger. The nobles, in their haste, looked so frantic and dishevelled that Bao Si found it funny and smiled. Longing to see more of the smile of his favourite woman, the king would fool his nobles again and again, until his nobles no longer heeded the warning beacons when an actual rebellion came. 

What the king did has been described as 博紅顏一笑, with 紅顏 (”red/flushed face”) meaning a beautiful woman, referring to Bao Si. Replace 紅顏 with the respectful “you”, 君, we get 博君一笑. If one searches the origin of the phrase 博 [fill_in_the_blank]一笑 online, Bao Si’s story shows up.

The “anything” in ”doing anything to get a smile from you” in 博君一笑, therefore, is not any favour, but something as momentous as giving away one’s own kingdom. c-turtles have remarked, to their amusement and admittedly mine, that “king”, in Chinese, is written as 王, which is Dd’s surname, and very occasionally, they jokingly compare him to the hopeless kings who’d give away everything for their love. Much like 傾國傾城 has become a flattering idiom despite the negative reputations of Daji and Bao Si for their “men-ruining ways”, 博君一笑 has become a flattering phrase, emphasising on the devotion and love rather than the ... stupidity behind the smile-inducing acts. 

(Bao Si’s story, BTW, was a lie made up by historians who also lived later but also thousands of years ago, to absolve the uselessness of the king. Warning beacons didn’t exist at her time.)  

Gg is arguably feminized even in his CP’s name. Gg’s feminisation is everywhere. 

And here comes my confession time ~ I’ve been amused by most of the feminisation terms above. 肖妲己 (”Daji Xiao”) captures my imagination, and I remain quite partial to the CP name BJYX. Somehow, there’s something ... somewhat forgivable when the feminisation is based on Gg’s beauty, especially in the context of the historical Danmei / Dangai setting of MDZS/TU ~ something that, while doesn’t cancel, dampens the “problematic-ness” of the gender mis-identification.

What, exactly, is this something?

Here’s my new hypothesis, and hopefully I’ll manage to explain it well ~

The hypothesis is this: the unisex beauty standard for historical Chinese men and women, which is also breathtakingly similar to the modern beauty standard for Chinese women, makes feminisation in the context of Danmei (especially historical Danmei) flattering, and easier to accept.

What defined beauty in historical Chinese men? If I am to create a classically beautiful Chinese man for my new historical Danmei, how would I describe him based on what I’ve read, my cultural knowledge?

Here’s a list:

* Skin fair and smooth as white jade * Thin, even frail; narrow/slanted shoulders; tall * Dark irises and bright, starry eyes * Not too dense, neat eyebrows that are shaped like swords ~ pointed slightly upwards from the center towards the sides of the face * Depending on the dynasty, nice makeup.

Imagine these traits. How “macho” are they? How much do they fit the ideal Chinese masculine beauty advertised by Chinese government, which looks like below?

Propaganda poster, 1969. The caption says “Defeat Imperialist US! Defeat Social Imperialism!” The book’s name is “Quotations from Mao Zedong”. (Source)

Where did that list of traits I’ve written com from? Fair like jade, frail ... why are they so far from the ... “macho”ness of the men in the poster? 

What has Chinese history said about its beautiful men? 

Wei Jie (衛玠 286-312 BCE), one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men (古代四大美男) recorded in Chinese history famously passed away when fans of his beauty gathered and formed a wall around him, blocking his way. History recorded Wei as being frail with chronic illness, and was only 27 years old when he died. Arguably the first historical account of “crazy fans killing their idol”, this incident left the idiom 看殺衛玠 ~ “Wei Jie being watched to death.” ~ a not very “macho” way to die at all.

潘安 (Pan An; 247-300 BCE), another one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men, also had hoards of fangirls, who threw fruits and flowers at him whenever he ventured outside. The Chinese idiom 擲果盈車 “thrown fruit filling a cart” was based on Pan and ... his fandom, and denotes such scenarios of men being so beautiful that women openly displayed their affections for them. 

Meanwhile, when Pan went out with his equally beautiful male friend, 夏侯湛 Xiahou Zhan, folks around them called them 連璧 ~ two connected pieces of perfect jade. Chinese Jade is white, smooth, faintly glowing in light, so delicate that it gives the impression of being somewhat transparent.

Aren’t Wei Jie and Pan An reminiscent of modern day Chinese idols, the “effeminate” “Little Fresh Meat”s (小鲜肉) so panned by Article O3? Their stories, BTW, also elucidated the historical reference in LWJ’s description of being jade-like in MDZS, and in WWX and LWJ being thrown pippas along the Gusu river bank. 

Danmei, therefore, didn’t create a trend of androgynous beauty in men as much as it has borrowed the ancient, traditional definition of masculine Chinese beauty ~ the beauty that was more feminine than masculine by modern standards.  

[Perhaps, CPs should be renamed 連璧 (”two connected pieces of perfect jade”) as a reminder of the aesthetics’ historical roots.]

Someone may exclaim now: But. But!! Yet another one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men, 高長恭 (Gao Changgong, 541-573 BCE), far better known by his title, 蘭陵王 (”the Prince of Lanling”), was a famous general. He had to be “macho”, right?

... As it turns out, not at all. Historical texts have described Gao as “貌柔心壮，音容兼美” (”soft in looks and strong at heart, beautiful face and voice”), “白美類婦人” (”fair and beautiful as a woman”), “貌若婦人” (”face like a woman”). Legends have it that The Prince of Lanling’s beauty was so soft, so lacking in authority that he had to wear a savage mask to get his soldiers to listen to his command (and win) on the battlefield (《樂府雜錄》: 以其顏貌無威，每入陣即著面具，後乃百戰百勝).

This should be emphasised: Gao’s explicitly feminine descriptions were recorded in historical texts as arguments *for* his beauty. Authors of these texts, therefore, didn’t view the feminisation as insult. In fact, they used the feminisation to drive the point home, to convince their readers that men like the Prince of Lanling were truly, absolutely good looking.

Being beautiful like a women was therefore high praise for men in, at least, significant periods in Chinese history ~ periods long and important enough for these records to survive until today. Beauty, and so it goes, had once been largely free of distinctions between the masculine and feminine.

One more example of an image of an ancient Chinese male beauty being similar to its female counterpart, because the history nerd in me finds this fun. 

何晏 (He Yan, ?-249 BCE) lived in the Wei Jin era (between 2nd to 4th century), during which makeup was really en vogue. Known for his beauty, he was also famous for his love of grooming himself. The emperor, convinced that He Yan’s very fair skin was from the powder he was wearing, gave He Yan some very hot foods to eat in the middle of the summer. He Yan began to sweat, had to wipe himself with his sleeves and in the process, revealed to the emperor that his fair beauty was 100% natural ~ his skin glowed even more with the cosmetics removed (《世說新語·容止第十四》: 何平叔美姿儀，面至白。魏明帝疑其傅粉，正夏月，與熱湯餅。既啖，大汗出，以朱衣自拭，色轉皎然). His kick-cosmetics’-ass fairness won him the nickname 傅粉何郎 (”powder-wearing Mr He”).

Not only would He Yan very likely be mistaken as a woman if this scene is transferred to a modern setting, but this scene can very well fit inside a Danmei story of the 21st century and is very, very likely to get axed by the Chinese censorship board for its visualisation. 

[Important observation from this anecdote: the emperor was totally into this trend too.]

The adjectives and phrases used above to describe these beautiful ancient Chinese men ~ 貌柔, 音容兼美, 白美, 美姿儀, 皎然 ~ have all become pretty much reserved for describing beauty in women nowadays. Beauty standards in ancient China were, as mentioned before, had gone through significantly long periods in which they were largely genderless. The character for beauty 美 (also in Danmei, 耽美) used to have little to no gender association. Free of gender associations as well were the names of many flowers. The characters for orchid (蘭) and lotus (蓮), for example, were commonly found in men’s names as late as the Republican era (early 20th century), but are now almost exclusively found in women’s names. Both orchid and lotus have historically been used to indicate 君子 (junzi, roughly, “gentlemen”), which have always been men. MDZS also has an example of a man named after a flower: Jin Ling’s courtesy name, given to him by WWX,  was 如蘭 (”like an orchid”). 

A related question may be this: why does ancient China associate beauty with fairness, with softness, with frailty? Likely, because Confucianist philosophy and customs put a heavy emphasis on scholarship ~ and scholars have mostly consisted of soft-spoken, not muscular, not working-under-the-sun type of men. More importantly, Confucianist scholars also occupied powerful government positions. Being, and looking like a Confucianist scholar was therefore associated with status. Indeed, it’s very difficult to look like jade when one was a farmer or a soldier, for example, who constantly had to toil under the sun, whose skin was constantly being dried and roughened by the elements. Having what are viewed as “macho” beauty traits as in the poster above ~ tanned skin, bulging muscles, bony structures (which also take away the jade’s smoothness) ~ were associated with hard labour, poverty and famine.

Along that line, 手無縛雞之力 (“hands without the strength to restrain a chicken”) has long been a phrase used to describe ancient scholars and students, and without scorn or derision. Love stories of old, which often centred around scholars were, accordingly, largely devoid of the plot lines of husbands physically protecting the wives, performing the equivalent of climbing up castle walls and fighting dragons etc. Instead, the faithful husbands wrote poems, combed their wife’s hair, traced their wife’s eyebrows with cosmetics (畫眉)...all activities that didn’t require much physical strength, and many of which are considered “feminine” nowadays.

Were there periods in Chinese history in which more ... sporty men and women were appreciated? Yes. the Tang dynasty, for example, and the Yuan and Qing dynasties. The Tang dynasty, as a very powerful, very open era in Chinese history, was known for its relations to the West (via the Silk Road). The Yuan and Qing dynasties, meanwhile, were established by Mongolians and Manchus respectively, who, as non-Han people, had not been under the influence of Confucian culture and grew up on horsebacks, rather than in schools.

The idea that beautiful Chinese men should have “macho” attributes was, therefore, largely a consequence of non-Han-Chinese influence, especially after early 20th century. That was when the characters for beauty (美), orchid (蘭), lotus (蓮) etc began their ... feminisation. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which started its reign of the country starting 1949, also has foreign roots, being a derivative of the Soviets, and its portrayal of ideal men has been based on the party’s ideology, painting them as members of the People’s Liberation Army (Chinese army) and its two major proletariat classes, farmers and industrial workers ~ all occupations that are “macho” in their aesthetics, but held at very poor esteem in ancient Chinese societies. All occupations that, to this day, may be hailed as noble by Chinese women, but not really deemed attractive by them.

Beauty, being an instinct, is perhaps much more resistant to propaganda.

If anything, the three terms Article O3 used to describe “effeminate” men ~ 奶油小生 “cream young men” (popularised in 1980s) , 花美男 “flowery beautiful men” (early 2000s), 小鲜肉 “little fresh meat” (coined in 2014 and still popular now) ~ only informs me how incredibly consistent the modern Chinese women’s view of ideal male beauty has been. It’s the same beauty the Chinese Communist Party has called feminine. It’s the same beauty found in Danmei. It’s the same beauty that, when witnessed in men in ancient China, was so revered that historians recorded it for their descendants to remember. It doesn’t mean there aren’t any women who appreciate the "macho” type ~ it’s just that, the appreciation for the non-macho type has never really gone out of fashion, never really changed. The only thing that is really changing is the name of the type, the name’s positive or negative connotations.

(Personally, I’m far more uncomfortable with the name “Little fresh meat” (小鲜肉) than 老婆 (wife). I find it much more insulting.)

Anyway, what I’d like to say is this: feminisation in Danmei ~ a genre that, by definition, is hyper-focused on aesthetics ~ may not be as "problematic” in Chinese as it is in English, because the Chinese tradition didn’t make that much of a differentiation between masculine and feminine beauty. Once again, this isn’t to say such mis-gendering isn’t disrespectful; it’s just that, perhaps, it is less disrespectful because Chinese still retains a cultural memory in which equating a beautiful man to a beautiful woman was the utmost flattery. 

I must put a disclaimer here: I cannot vouch for this being true for the general Chinese population. This is something that is buried deep enough inside me that it took a lot of thought for me to tease out, to articulate. More importantly, while I grow up in a Chinese-speaking environment, I’ve never lived inside China. My history knowledge, while isn’t shabby, hasn’t been filtered through the state education system.

I’d also like to point out as well, along this line of thought, that in *certain* (definitely not all) aspects, Chinese society isn’t as sexist as the West. While historically, China has periods of extreme sexism against women, with the final dynasties of Ming and Qing being examples, I must (reluctantly) acknowledge Chairman Mao for significantly lifting the status of women during his rule. Here’s a famous quote of his from 1955:

婦女能頂半邊天 Women can lift half the skies

The first marriage code, passed in 1950, outlawed forced marriages, polygamy, and ensured equal rights between husband and wife.  For the first time in centuries, women were encouraged to go outside of their homes and work. Men resisted at first, wanting to keep their wives at home; women who did work were judged poorly for their performance and given less than 50% of men’s wage, which further fuelled the men’s resistance. Mao said the above quote after a commune in Guizhou introduced the “same-work-same-wage” system to increase its productivity, and he asked for the same system to to be replicated across the country. (Source)

When Chairman Mao wanted something, it happened. Today, Chinese women’s contribution to the country’s GDP remains among the highest in the world.  They make up more than half of the country’s top-scoring students. They’re the dominant gender in universities, in the ranks of local employees of international corporations in the Shanghai and Beijing central business districts—among the most sought after jobs in the country. While the inequality between men and women in the workplace is no where near wiped out — stories about women having to sleep with higher-ups to climb the career ladder, or even get their PhDs are not unheard of, and the central rulership of the Chinese Communist Party has been famously short of women — the leap in women’s rights has been significant over the past century, perhaps because of how little rights there had been before ~ at the start of the 20th century, most Chinese women from relatively well-to-do families still practised foot-binding, in which their feet were literally crushed during childhood in the name of beauty, of status symbol. They couldn’t even walk properly.

Perhaps, the contemporary Chinese women’s economic contribution makes the sexism they encounter in their lives, from the lack of reproductive rights to the “leftover women” label, even harder to swallow. It makes their fantasies fly to even higher, more defiant heights. The popularity of Dangai right now is pretty much driven by women, as acknowledged by Article O3. Young women, especially, female fans who people have dismissed as “immature”, “crazy”, are responsible for the threat the Chinese government is feeling now by the genre.

This is no small feat. While the Chinese government complains about the “effeminate” men from Danmei / Dangai, its propaganda has been heavily reliant on stars who have risen to popularity to these genres. The film Dd is currently shooting, Chinese Peacekeeping Force (維和部隊), also stars Huang Jingyu (黄景瑜), and Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) ~ the three actors having shot to fame from The Untamed (Dangai), Addicted (Danmei), and Word of Honour (Dangai) respectively.  Zhang, in particular, played the “uke” role in Word of Honour and has also been called 老婆 (wife) by his fans. The quote in Article O3, “Ten years as a tough man known by none; one day as a beauty known by all” was also implicitly referring to him.

Perhaps, the government will eventually realise that millennia-old standards of beauty are difficult to bend, and by extension, what is considered appropriate gender expression of Chinese men and women. 

In the metas I’ve posted, therefore, I’ve hesitated in using terms such as homophobia, sexism, and ageism etc, opting instead to make long-winded explanations that essentially amount to these terms (thank you everyone who’s reading for your patience!). Because while the consequence is similar—certain fraction of the populations are subjected to systemic discrimination, abuse, given less rights, treated as inferior etc—these words, in English, also come with their own context, their own assumptions that may not apply to the situation. It reminds me of what Leo Tolstoy wrote in Anna Karenina,

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Discrimination in each country, each culture is humiliating, unhappy in its own way. Both sexism and homophobia are rampant in China, but as their roots are different from those of the West, the ways they manifest are different, and so must the paths to their dissolution. I’ve also hesitated on calling out individual behaviours or confronting individuals for this reason. i-Danmei fandoms are where i-fans and c-fans meet, where English-speaking doesn’t guarantee a non-Chinese sociopolitical background (there may be students from China, for example; I’m also ... not entirely Western), and I find it difficult to articulate appropriate, convincing arguments without knowing individual backgrounds.

Frankly, I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. Because I do hope feminisation will soon fade into extinction, especially in i-Danmei fandoms that, if they continue to prosper on international platforms, may eventually split from c-Danmei fandoms along the cultural (not language) line due to the vast differences in environmental constraints. My hope is especially true when real people are involved, and c-fandoms, I’d like to note, are not unaware of the issues surrounding feminisation ~ it has already been explicitly forbidden in BJYX’s supertopic on Weibo. 

At the same time, I’ve spent so many words above to try to explain why beauty can *sometimes* lurk behind such feminisations. Please allow me to end this post with one example of feminisation that I deeply dislike—and I’ve seen it used by fans on Gg as well—is 綠茶 (”green tea”), from 綠茶婊 (”green tea whore”) that means women who look pure / innocent but are, deep down, promiscuous / lustful. In some ways, its meaning isn’t so different from Daji 妲己, the consort blamed for the fall of the Shang dynasty. However, to me at least, the flattery in the feminisation is gone, perhaps because of the character “whore” (婊), because the term originated in 2013 from a notorious sex party rather than from a legendary beauty so maligned that The Investiture of the Gods (封神演義), the seminal Chinese fiction written ~2,600 years after Daji’s death, re-imagined her as a malevolent fox spirit (狐狸精) that many still remembers her as today.

Ah, to be caught between two cultures. :)

[bl-garbage]

i’m not over Gaya sa Pelikula episode 5. the sheer layers of storytelling we have, and i know you all have pointed them out. long post incoming:

employed foreshadowing in the two horror stories and the events that later followed. from the story of the nurse seeing the cadaver in his own closet to Vlad seeing the photo of a young Karl, now a grown man and so different from the child he once was; and from the man looking at his own self holding his own heart, to Karl holding his own heart as he looked at himself in the mirror. these are not horror stories -- they are real. in the next episode, we will find the consequences of these actions.

the brownout as a device. do we not tell our stories in the dark? queer people have long been used to telling stories in this familiar place. they do not dare to tell it under the sun, for all of the world to see because stories like theirs are resented just for being. this drinking session in the dark, when no one is around and anyone else is out of earshot, that is when stories so honest, so brutal and unabashedly true, are released. this scene was beautiful and cathartic.

anna is no plot device. she’s a beautiful, multilayered, flawed character. who would have thought anna was a mom? i know i’m surprised. and yet the writer did not leave her be only to be a friend for comedic purposes. she was there to tell her own story, like everyone else does. she has agency as a woman, and for an 8-episode series that bills itself as a BL series it is really commendable to grasp the complexity of all its characters, not let them be tossed aside. and you know what? Vlad even shined in this scene. women and queer people have long stood side by side, aware and empathic of their fundamental disadvantages in society. the queer struggle is rooted in the victories of the feminist struggle, after all, and in this scene we zoom in on just how that takes form, even in the simplest of ways. just look at how Vlad immediately accepts anna’s story, and does not even judge her. 

the effortless gender sensitivity. the episode does its best to quash stigmas in the queer community itself. when Karl said, for instance, that In fairness, Vlad, you’re not obviously effeminate, Vlad was quite quick to correct him, and here we see an innocent Karl simply accepting his mistake, saying sorry, and intently listening when Vlad goes on to explain where he went wrong. in that moment we were all anna, smiling in sheer excitement that this kind of thing casually happens, for is that not what queer people fear at time? that even when you know better and want to correct other people for their mistakes, you'd still second guess yourself or choose if it's even okay or perhpas you're imposing your own ideals on another person. yet, Gaya sa Pelikula does away with that and shows that, ihdeed, ignorance is not cured by anger, but education. what Karl said is a common microaggression against the queer community that unfortunately, many shows (BLs, even) fall prey to. Gaya sa Pelikula is not only good plot-wise, but it is also careful to weigh its options of which important lessons it needs to impart. it is proof that BL shows shouldn’t be just for entertainment; they must advance change.  

from the dark, to the blinding light. the rather smooth transition from Karl having to teach Vlad and Vlad even stepping on Karl, with Karl taking the lead; and then, to the prom they had in their minds: beautiful, well-lit, but only for them. a dream come true for Vlad—for any queer person deprived of the simple joys, of something as simple as the privilege to dance. the hope of things getting better.

Karl took the lead at first, but then Vlad did. in the beginning, it was Karl who led a reticent Vlad to the prom dance; yet, when they donned the suits and danced in the light, the roles changed. Vlad was taking the lead. it was as though, when Karl opened up to Vlad and practically told him, ‘it’s okay to be yourself with me,’ that gave Vlad the license to really be himself, be confident and free to express what he felt, share what he knew. note that during the transition, Vlad was at first so surprised by the lights! he did not know that things could turn out so good for him and Karl, and yet it was halpening. so he was so confident, leading Karl in the dance, to make Karl feel what he feels. he even said, “simplehan na lang natin (let’s make things simple).” i find meaning in that, too: see, Vlad has known himself to be gay since high school, but here we have Karl who does not even begin to question for himself who and what he is. Vlad knows this. he even sang, ever so softly into Karl’s ears, as if to say that it’s okay if you're only beginning your journey now. things are discovered, one step at a time.

in the end, karl was smiling. confused, but happy. holding his heart, beating so loud, karl does not know what to feel. is that not the experience of every queer person? to know that, perhaps for the first time ever, things are “different” from what they've been conditioned to believe? and yet the most confusing thing is that it feels good and freeing and warm. in the dark, when no one is around, Karl felt his heart, saw his own reflection, and even though he does not admit it yet, Karl knows he is happy. this is the true turning point of the story. i am quite sure we'll experience the sadness next episode, so be sure to be ready.

i am just so overwhelmed by Gaya sa Pelikula. it is not only aesthetically beautiful, but is also filled with nuances that i am not afraid to look more into it. perhaps i have been too saturated with a lot of just fun, but really nonsensical BLs, that i almost forgot that those shouldn’t be the standard. instead, we deserve ones that truly cater to our needs, tell our stories, and make a shot for things going to be better. to be sure, Gaya sa Pelikula was written by a queer screenplay writer himself, which only confirms the need for more stories told by queer people, for queer people.

Gaya sa Pelikula does what others are not doing. and so much more.

there are three more episodes, but i have no doubt that it will turn out excellent, far exceeding yet again my already high expectations.

in the aftermath of episode 5, i hark back to what juan miguel severo, the show’s writer and producer, had promised: “We will take back our story!”

and, indeed,  through this episode, he proves that he already has.

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes beginning/ending author's notes

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Chapter 4/?: Soothe

Sasuke arrives outside her building shortly before seven in the morning, an ubiquitous aubade sung by birds, polished and practiced for many years, lilting into his ears along the way. The village for the most part is still slowly awakening from its slumber; no merchants in the streets yet, and he only passes a few people here and there as light slowly seeps higher into the sky.

He carefully pushes open the glass door of the exterior portion of her complex, making sure to keep it quiet in case her neighbors are still asleep. As he goes up the stairs, he notices that all of the downstairs tenants’ lights are on, emanating from beneath the trio of entryways. Once he reaches the upper landing, he sees that Sakura’s light is on, too, though her other two neighbors' are not.

The doors of each unit are all painted different colors. Hers is sage green; he hadn’t been able to discern that previously, with the desaturation that night brings.

He's wondering if maybe he should knock to let her know he’s here, but then she emerges a few minutes early, beautiful and bright-eyed and full of life, pale yellow sunshine coating her from the large window with diamond patterning behind him.

She seems pretty awake already; she must be an early riser. She's carrying her tote bag again, and today she wears a dark skirt with a red top, along with a familiar pair of knee-high sandals. She's also wearing a smile, directed upwards at him.

"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," she acknowledges him softly, looking very happy to see him.

"...Morning." He keeps his voice low, because it is still a little hoarse. He tries to memorize her eyes again in the span of seconds before she turns to lock her door behind her.

It's 6:58 by the time they're out the glass door, her leading the way. They take the main road west a few blocks before turning to go north, this time. There are several more buildings that appear residential on her street. One of them has vines creeping up the sides, starting to bud after the warmer spring weather. He notes there is also a bakery on the corner, not open yet, but one that seems like the kind to also sell confections. He wonders if that factored into her apartment selection at all; he remembers she has a sweet tooth.

It is an easy silence they share on the walk there, bird calls lulling in as background noise again. There are more of them now, a more layered song than earlier, with a wider variety of voices filtering in and out.

Sakura leads them to a very small tea shop within five minutes of the hospital; it is quaint and simple, definitely not modern. It is also quite small, with only four or so small tables situated by windows, looking out towards the street. The entire establishment utilizes a spread of cinnamon-colored wood for its surfaces; floors, counters, and the shelving in the back, laden with neatly-labeled teas of several varieties in glass jars. He assumes the larger jars are store stock, with the smaller ones higher up on the shelves being available for purchase for use at home, if one decides they like a particular flavor enough.

He finds he likes the atmosphere. He figured he would. It's not a formal place, but rather one where you retrieve what you've ordered from the counter and can choose whether to stay or go. He supposes that makes sense; it’s closer to the busier part of the village. There appears to be a small area to the left of the counter where one can add cream, sugar, lemon, or honey, though he knows he won't. He vaguely remembers that she used to take lemon and sugar in her tea, and possibly cream, depending on the brew. Honey seems like something Sakura would like, too, now that he’s thinking about it.

He scans the menu briefly upon entering before deciding something hot with caffeine would probably be best. Sencha green tea is usually what he gravitates toward. He also enjoys black tea during cooler weather, and jasmine occasionally, though not often; it had been his mother’s favorite.

Once he orders, he says, "Hers, too," and glances back towards Sakura expectantly. She looks at him with a blush that rivals the color of her hair when she realizes he's offering to pay for hers.

"Oh! Um, lavender matcha. Hot, please."

His lips quirk upwards a little, because that is possibly the most Sakura thing she could have ordered.

It doesn’t take very long until it’s ready, as they’re not busy; they are the only ones there, thus far. He takes a sip while idling by the end of the counter as he watches her add honey and cream into hers, stirring carefully. It is one of the better blends of sencha he’s had, aside from a particular place nestled on the edge of the Land of Mountains, where he’s pretty sure the elderly woman who ran the place harvested the tea straight from her private garden. He had pilgrimaged there a total of five times on his journey, months scattered like the seasons in between.

It was an odd teahouse, more formal than this one and off the beaten path, not near any major landmarks, nor plotted on any map he’d seen before or after. The lady, who had wizened eyes of a crystal clear blue, slightly lighter in hue than Naruto’s, had served the brews in eclectic and sometimes chipped mugs and teacups, from which he had assumed after multiple visits must be a fairly vast collection. The china was different every time, but he had liked the tea itself so much he kept coming back, if he was anywhere near the area. Twice he had been the only customer there, the first two visits occurring during early morning hours, and there was something extremely cathartic about sitting at the table in the far corner, looking out the window as the sun rose higher in the sky until it no longer skimmed the horizon and the mountains in the distance.

The other three visits had occurred during the afternoon, so there had been at least one or two other people present, at those times. He had noticed that third time that other patrons were served out of much different teacups than he was; he had secretly suspected, after that, that the woman tried to match the stoneware from her collection to whatever she saw in her patrons.

There had been a father sitting with his daughter, who had looked to be around six or seven, on his third visit. The father’s teacup had been robust, solid with carved detail that appeared to have been created with something like a miniature chisel, and an earthenware glaze mix of green and russet, strangely looking similar to the color of seaweed. The daughter’s had been a smaller cup, dainty finery of opalescent sky blue, with a similar mother of pearl finish coating the inside. The girl had quickly drained her glass once she realized the inside was pretty, too; she had spent the rest of the time there in awe of its beauty, turning it in the light as her father watched with soft eyes, enjoying his own cup more slowly. Sasuke had thought it must have been an expensive teacup, not necessarily what you’d typically give a child that young, but the girl hadn’t chipped or broken it. Instead, she had been enamored by its beautiful finish, even more enthralled with the inside than she had been with the outside, and had handled it with great care.

He never saw the same cup twice, for him or any other customer there. He had hoped by the third and fourth time that this was a good sign, that it meant progress. Once he figured it out, he wished he’d examined the first two cups, near five months apart, with greater care; he had thought there might have been a lesson there he had missed. His first teacup, from what he remembered, had been rather plain: rounded, no handle, slightly hard to grip, a shiny black glaze with a burnt orange rim. The second time, he’d been served the sencha in another black piece of china, though this one must have been fired differently; there was no glaze at the very bottom of the outer portion of the vessel, bare toasted clay in an oatmeal color. Carved designs on the outer portion of the piece had nearly melted glaze off it, allowing for the viewer to see the true color of the clay body beneath, creating an effect of brushstrokes in the third dimension, rippling out of the darkness. That one had had a chip at the top, but it hadn’t compromised the structural integrity of the piece, and was easily avoided simply by sipping from the undamaged side.

The third cup had taken him off guard in its uniqueness, and is what had caused him to look to the girl and her father. He had analyzed theirs, and then his own cup closely for a long time that day, thinking. Still no handle, but it had been a bit more narrow, as well as taller, easier to grip. The glaze design was fascinating, a thick glossy black base coat overlaid with a strange dissolving mixture of sapphire and indigo. It had reminded him of a night sky in the middle of nowhere, tiny amounts of galaxy blues and violets barely visible to the naked eye in their sheer scope and complexity. The glaze itself also only covered around two thirds of the vessel, at an asymmetrical angle, with the remaining half left unglazed, as if it hadn’t dripped down to be fully covered yet because the artist had liked the way it looked as is.

When he went back for a fourth cup several months later, the lady had given him an entirely too knowing look, and served his tea in a somewhat misshapen mug, this time with a handle. The handle was awkward, too small, and slightly malformed; the mug’s overall shape seemed as though it may have been an artist’s first attempt, shoddily trimmed and uneven in many places. The glaze design itself was mesmerizing, though, something like a gradient this time, shifting from splattering black to sepia to a lighter color, akin to the inside of a water chestnut. It was almost as if the cup had been constructed by a beginner and then drenched in magisterial color by a master. The sencha had tasted just as good from that cup as it had from any of the others, despite the challenge of grasping it with any semblance of comfort.

The last cup had been only a few months ago: well-designed, with a near perfect handle, easy to hold. The foot and interior of the mug was a smoky gray, well-trimmed, but the exterior body of it was a white raku crackle, twisting patterns of scale-like ivory and black outlines, small dots sprinkled in between where the unevenness of the heat must have interfered in the firing process.

When he reached the very bottom of the vessel, having finished his tea, it had been gilded gold, metallic and astonishingly bright, catching the light of the sun coming through the farthest window, where he sat in the corner alone.

He had sat there staring at it for the better portion of an afternoon. It was a peculiar artistic choice.

This sencha is good, too, he thinks as he takes another sip, here with Sakura, also at a table in the farthest corner, looking out another window. Herbaceous, earthy, and light, and in a cup that matches hers. It feels cleansing on his sore throat, corrosion, not too hot but not lukewarm, either; a rather perfect medium between mellow and astringent. It is a nice way to greet the break of day.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she murmurs, after they’ve been seated for a few seconds.

He nods; she’s still flushed as she says it. He can see it better now, in the bright light of the window. He takes another sip, and continues to enjoy looking at her.

“How is yours?” She asks.

“...I like it.” He considers his next words. “You didn’t add lemon.”

Her lips quirk upward, dimple appearing. “It doesn’t go the best with the lavender. They only have this kind on hand for the springtime.” She pauses, then adds, “I still put lemon in pretty much all my tea, otherwise.”

Sasuke inclines his head again, and she takes another sip.

They sit there for a while in a comfortable silence, watching more of the village wake up and people pass by from the window, on their way to work and other responsibilities. There are two small birds across the street, perched on the awning over an apartment building’s entrance. Finches, he deduces by their plumage and size. Perhaps they are looking for a mixture of materials with which to build a nest.

“It’s a good place to just sit and watch, in the morning,” Sakura mentions after a while, still looking out the window contentedly.

“...Is that your favorite thing about it?”

She meets his eyes, then, and smiles. “One of them.”

He looks at her expectantly, so she continues. “The tea itself is good. It’s close to the hospital, and I like... “ Her voice trails off, and she glances over at the station where she added cream and honey, lips still turned upwards. “I like that they don’t overfill the cup; it makes it easier to add what it needs.”

A ghost of a smile overtakes him. Practical, as always.

Sasuke finds himself contemplating what kind of teacup the elderly lady would give Sakura, if he took her there.

XXX

"You're a little on the skinny side for your height, now," Sakura notes as she writes down his information on the form he's given her, stepping off the scale; 163 pounds. "Not unhealthy, necessarily, but you should try to put on some weight."

They are at the hospital, in an exam room this time instead of her office. Her voice has shifted to something more professional, and Sasuke knows he is now with Sakura the clinician, though her affection is still an undercurrent in the way she's looking at him carefully with warm eyes. She’s already measured his height, and has his paperwork from his last physical to compare it to; apparently he’s grown another two inches since then.

He hopes he’s done growing, in that regard. It doesn’t seem likely that she’ll grow any taller; she’s twenty now, and they already have a considerable height difference. He doesn’t know how tall she is, exactly. He must hover over her by at least six or seven inches.

"Okay," He responds, because he trusts her judgment. Being away and mulling on his failures never gave him much of an appetite. Being back in Konoha hasn't much either, so far, but he can try. “How much?”

She looks somewhat surprised that he asked. “160 to 196 pounds is considered a normal range for six feet; I’d start with ten, and then evaluate from there.”

He nods. Her eyes linger on him, as if she’s contemplating saying something more. When she turns to set down her clipboard and grab the cuff typically used to measure blood pressure, he thinks she must have decided against it, whatever it was. He goes to sit in the patient’s chair, familiar with the routine at this point. He's gotten a physical near every year of his life that he’s spent in Konoha.

She sits on the wheeled chair that’s next to the desk, rolling it closer to him. He extends his right arm, and as she carefully adjusts the cuff, she tells him, tone casual, “You’ve got an inch on Naruto, now.”

There is a very stupid and juvenile part of him that takes immense satisfaction in this news, but she doesn’t look like she’s finished speaking yet. He waits for the rest.

She smiles apologetically. “He’s got about fifteen pounds on you, though. There’s some motivation for you.”

He pins her with a pointed stare, unimpressed but also a little amused. Motivation, indeed.

Her expression turns somewhat guilty, now. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. I did his about a month ago; he came back from a mission with a cracked rib, and it needed to be updated.”

She starts increasing the pressure, and he suddenly becomes aware that she is closer to him than before, by the nature of the operation of the equipment. He had become aware of her physical proximity at roughly this point in the exam the last time, too.

He’s thankful it doesn’t seem to affect his blood pressure. “105 over 70; good,” she concludes, before reaching to remove the cuff from his arm. Her fingertips make brief contact with his skin, this time, and he has to fight an urge to shiver, even though they’re warm.

She picks up her pen to input this information in the appropriate slot, then sets it aside and puts away the cuff. When she turns back to him, she says, “Heart rate is next. Hold out your wrist, please.”

He holds out his right arm again, letting his elbow rest on the surface of the desk this time. Both of her hands come to grip his single one, lightly and carefully feeling for his pulse. He tries to hold very still, and to not think about how soft her hands are. He distracts himself by preoccupying his gaze with the clock on the wall behind her. It feels like a very long thirty seconds, though he knows by watching the hand tick that it’s actually not.

She doesn’t vocalize what the number is, just removes her hands finally and reaches for the pen to fill it in on the paper. He wonders if it was elevated.

“Heart and lungs next.” She reaches for the stethoscope, positioning it in her ears before leaning in to listen to his heart first, over his shirt. He looks to the ceiling.

It doesn’t take very long. “Sounds good. Lungs, next.” She gets up and comes around the chair slightly behind him. He shifts to pull the back portion of his shirt up to his shoulder; he remembers this from the last exam, too.

“It’ll be cold; I’m sorry,” she warns gently, before pressing the instrument to his back. She is nothing but professional as she asks him to take a few deep breaths. Routine, and very careful not to touch his skin with anything but the diaphragm of the stethoscope, cool metal.

It feels… different than the last exam. He had been a little on edge during this part, then, too, even though she was nothing but professional then, as well.

He is just… very aware that she is behind him, and that his shirt is pulled up, and she’s listening to him breathe and can see the skin of his back. And that he's kissed her.

The coolness slips away after a short amount of time. “Lung function sounds good.” He pulls his shirt back into place, feeling a faint sense of relief as he does so. She goes back to document her findings on the paperwork.

She then lays the stethoscope back in its appropriate place. Scanning the page, she asks, “Any issues with your hearing?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Sasuke responds. She dips her head in acknowledgement, filling in that box with what he assumes is non-applicable.

“Sense of smell?”

He recalls raspberries and antiseptic. “No.” She fills another box.

“Sinus or lymph node issues?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m assuming you’ve used the Sharingan and Rinnegan since last time, so I’ll look at your eyes towards the end.”

He nods, and she reaches for a light instrument to use to look at his throat, as well as one of the wooden sticks from a glass jar in the corner. “Throat next,” she says, flicking the light on.

He tries not to furrow his brow. He wasn't looking forward to this part.

He opens his mouth for the wood, reedlike and firm against his tongue, and then she’s shining the light in and frowning.

“Say ah, please.”

He complies, feeling quite undignified, though he knows it’s necessary and just part of her job. She removes the stick after a second, setting the flashlight instrument aside, and he closes his mouth.

"Teeth and gums look good, and your tonsils look fine, but your throat looks a little raw. Have you been sick recently?"

"Yes." It is technically the truth, though not in a viral sense.

She looks thoughtful as she’s making a note on her clipboard. “Within the past week?”

He nods. She must see him from the corner of her eye, because then she asks, while still writing, “Any other symptoms? Cough? Does it feel sore?”

“No.” He pauses, then clarifies. “No cough. A little sore. Not bad.”

Verdant eyes flick up to him for a long moment. He feels somewhat guilty; even if he knows the truth, she might be thinking right now that he’s been irresponsible, that he may have given her an illness via kissing.

She breaks eye contact eventually, and sets the pen down, standing to open the uppermost cupboard door in the exam room. His brow furrows, until she’s pulling down a small box that he sees has cough drops in them.

“We only have mixed berry; they’ll be kind of sweet, but it should help. Take a few for later, and put one in now, please.”

Sasuke blinks, and then takes a handful. He puts all but one in his pocket, and then unwraps the one left in his hand, putting it in his mouth, as she asked.

She arches to put the box back in the cupboard, and he forces himself to look elsewhere.

It does feel good on his throat, soothing. “...Thank you,” he says after a few more seconds, as she makes another note on his form.

“You’re welcome,” she replies. Then, back to clinical Sakura. “Any other issues? Abdominal, neurological?”

“No.”

She flips the page. “Infectious disease screening questions are next. Obviously you’ve traveled outside the village in the past 21 days, but have you been outside of Fire Country in that time?”

He thinks. “Rain, about thirteen days ago. Wind, 19 days ago.”

Sakura inclines her head, and writes in the information. He notices she keeps her eyes trained on the questionnaire now. “Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person with measles, mumps, or chickenpox in that time period?”

“No.” She checks the 'no' box.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person or source in that time period for any of the following: botulism, diphtheria, E. coli, encephalitis, hemorrhagic fever, hepatitis, influenza, listeriosis, malaria, meningitis, pneumonia, rabies, severe acute respiratory syndrome, smallpox, or yellow fever?”

“No.” He watches her check several 'no' boxes.

“Have you, to your knowledge, had close contact with a person in that time period who may have exposed you to any sexually transmitted infections?”

He’s glad she’s looking at the paper still, even if that answer is obvious. “No.” She checks several more 'no' boxes.

“And you didn’t have a fever earlier.” She checks another 'no' box. “And sore throat, but no shortness of breath at any point?”

“No.”

“Vomiting or diarrhea?”

“...Vomiting, yes,” he answers honestly. “No to the second.”

She nods, as if she knew that already from looking at his throat. She probably did. She’s good at what she does.

“Any kind of rash?”

“No.”

That’s the last question on the page, so she turns to the next one.

“Next is bloodwork. We’ll do a cholesterol screening, in regards to heart health, and then we’ll also do a general workup and run it for any infectious diseases. I don’t think we’ll find anything if it’s just the vomiting and resulting sore throat, but better safe than sorry.”

She then starts getting out the necessary supplies with which to get a blood sample. It doesn’t take very long; he holds out his right arm again, and Sakura finds the vein easily. “You’ll feel a pinch.” Within sixty seconds it’s over, and she’s pressing and holding the cotton to the dot of red before taping over it, a small pressure dressing.

“Leave that on for a few hours, please,” she advises, and he nods to indicate that he will. She makes quick work of labeling the blood sample, and sets it aside with the clipboard, he assumes for the end of the appointment.

She scribbles in a few more comments on the sheet, he assumes for whoever is running the tests. “Okay, just eyes and arm left. We’ll do eyes first. Any deterioration in vision that you’ve noticed?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll shine the light to check your pupils quick before I use chakra to look at them.” She grabs a different light tool, a penlight, and turns it on, before looking at him expectantly.

He blinks, curious what she’s waiting for, and then she asks softly, “Could you move your hair out of the way, please?”

Oh. He complies, and she shines the light in one eye, moving it slightly and monitoring the progress. She then does the same to his Rinnegan.

“Reactivity is good; no signs of defect.” She sets the penlight back where it belongs, then makes a note in his paperwork indicating that. Then she’s shifting her chair a tiny bit closer, so she can reach his eyes with her hands.

“Do you have a preference, which one I start with?” She asks. He shakes his head. “Okay; I’ll check the right eye first.” She reaches out with her left hand, pressing her thumb above his eye over his eyebrow, and her other four fingers lightly to his temple, just next to his eye socket.

Sasuke tries not to dwell on how close she is again as green chakra drizzles into his ocular system; he keeps his vision trained forward, as he knows he’s supposed to as she examines. There is a freckle on her right ear that he remembers focusing on, the last time; he does this time, too.

Around thirty seconds passes, before she informs him, “I’m going to funnel some chakra into the retina and optic nerve here; there’s some damage.”

He had suspected there might be, though his vision has not suffered; mostly there was just a bit of pain, sometimes. He hasn’t overworked it by any means, but he hasn’t completely abstained from using it since he’d last been healed by her, either. “Okay.”

The flow of her chakra works its way deeper, more of it now. This part has always relaxed him; her chakra really is quite calming, careful and gentle, threading its way behind his eye and wrapping around the nerve.

She works for about five minutes before the chakra starts to let up.

“...There. That should be a little better,” she says before lifting her hand from his right. “Look up, down, please.”

He complies.

“Left to right, now.” He does. “Good. Does it feel okay?”

He nods, meeting her eyes again finally. It feels stronger, no pain. He decides to verbalize that, even though he’s already nodded. “It’s better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him. “Good.” Then she’s detailing whatever she’s supposed to detail in the paperwork, before setting the pen down again.

“Left eye now.”

She repeats the process, frowning again. “There’s some damage here, too. I’ll fix it.”

This time, it takes longer; not quite ten minutes, but fairly close. He tries to focus on the wall behind her.

He had asked her once, when she was healing him following the war, if it used a lot of chakra. She had said not necessarily, but it depended on the level of damage. She also told him that it was moreso a delicate process, requiring careful manipulation, so he has tried not to talk during any healing sessions since.

When her hand finally pulls away, he’s gotten so used to the contact that it feels like a loss.

“Look up, down, please,” she requests again. Then left to right.

“Function looks good. How does it feel?”

“Better. Thank you.”

She smiles at him gently, just Sakura again for a second, before turning back to the form to finish the optical section.

Then, she turns the page. “Arm is last. Could you please roll up your sleeve to your shoulder?” He grabs his empty left sleeve with his right arm and starts shifting it upwards, rolling it so that it stays put once it’s to the top.

She touches the end of what’s left of the limb with careful fingers, soft but steady on marred skin and scar tissue. “I’ll look with chakra in a second, but any redness that you’ve noticed?”

“No.” He shifts his gaze forward, because her fingertips really are softer than he remembers.

“Any areas that occasionally feel warmer than is typical?”

He shakes his head.

“Swelling of any kind?”

“No.”

“Have you been stretching it as instructed?”

He meets her eyes, then. “Yes.” He wants her to know he listens to her recommendations.

Soft jade, and she’s smiling again. She moves her hands away momentarily, and grabs the clipboard with the papers, checking several boxes as he has indicated. He looks back forward.

“Any phantom limb pain?”

“Sometimes.”

“Residual limb pain?”

“...Sometimes.”

Her gaze flicks upward. “If you had to rate it on a scale, one being hardly anything and ten being the worst?”

“...Usually two or three.” He pauses, and she waits. “...Sometimes four or five.”

“How often, for the worst of it?”

He thinks. “Maybe twice or three times a month.” It’s a bit more often than that, but not by a lot.

She notes it on the paper; that must be a normal range. “Alright. I’ll check with chakra, now.” Her fingers come back to his stump, touching more firmly now. Green chakra starts to thread its way in.

Sakura frowns, after a second. “Nerve endings are a little inflamed. I’ll fix it.” The flow of her chakra increases, and he feels almost instant relief; he supposes it still hurt, faintly. Maybe he just got used to it. “Has it hurt in the last day or so?”

“...Late last night.”

She nods, as if that makes sense. “It won’t take too long. Maybe five minutes.”

He inclines his head just barely, not wanting to move while she’s working.

“You should let me know if it hurts again,” she suggests quietly, after a moment. “It doesn’t take much to fix.”

“...Okay.”

There is a comfortable silence for a few minutes as she works. He feels the chakra start to dilute a little towards the end of it.

“I’m going to stop my chakra and manually massage the tissue, now. It should help prolong the effect.”

He feels her chakra dissipate. She has done this to him before, throughout the rehabilitation process following the war; it was more important then, she’d said, to develop tolerance to touch and pressure of the residual limb. It had hurt, the first few times, but later in the healing process, he had secretly enjoyed it; it made it hurt much less, and the process itself felt… nice.

He had privately wondered what it would feel like on his back.

It elicits the same response now, too, kneading fingertips gradually increasing pressure to access deeper tissue, helping to work away pain that has lived there for a while.

"You wear your hair differently now," she comments after an incredibly nice period of time, still pressing tenderly in little circles, though the pressure is starting to taper off now, since they’re getting towards the end of five minutes; that was roughly the time she would do back then. Since there’s no chakra anymore, it must require less of her concentration.

He realizes he hasn’t shifted his hair back into place yet, then. He takes a moment, then responds quietly, furtively, "Most people dislike looking at the Rinnegan."

She doesn’t respond right away; just finishes massaging the end of his stump, then removes her hands to pick up her pen.

"Not me," she murmurs softly as she makes her final notations.

His heart flips in his chest, and he feels his face grow warm. He's glad she's focusing on the forms, so she can't see the effect her words have had.

The lozenge has dissolved fully, and his throat isn't as sore.

XXX

Sasuke goes to the Hokage’s office, after, to see if the dobe is there. He has some time to kill before lunch, and he wants to take him up on his offer to spar at some point, given that his eyes are freshly healed. Now that he knows Sakura’s schedule for the next few days, he can fill the rest of his time with whatever else. He’ll see her tomorrow at four, at the hospital, and then at Ichiraku’s on Saturday, and then for a bit after, too; they still need to confirm an actual time for that with Naruto and Kakashi. He assumes Sunday and Monday must be her days off. If they’re not, she works too much. He’s going to ask her tomorrow, he thinks.

Oddly, he finds only Kakashi in his office.

“Ah, Sasuke. Good morning,” he greets as he walks through the doors.

“...Morning.”

The copy ninja sizes him up with a single eye for a long moment, as if considering what to ask him. Sasuke braces himself.

"You got your physical done."

Sakura had said after the bloodwork was complete, she’d drop off the paperwork for him. "...I did."

"It went well, I assume."

"...It did."

"Wonderful," he says quietly, sounding pensive.

There is a very long pause.

“And the date, with Sakura this morning, before that? That went well, also?”

Sasuke deliberates. There is no teasing lilt to his old sensei's voice this time, just genuine curiosity, so he answers honestly, even though his neck warms and he doesn’t quite appreciate being spied on. “...It did.”

Kakashi gives him one of the widest and most genuine smiles he has ever seen him wear, beneath the mask.

“Wonderful,” the copy ninja says again, this time teeming clearly with pride and meaning.

“...Yeah.” Sasuke agrees, looking anywhere but at him.

Kakashi shuffles a few papers around his desk, and starts talking again, as if Sasuke has not just admitted to something he’s sure their sensei had suspicions about for the better portion of eight years. “Well, Naruto’s not here; I’m assuming that’s who you were looking for. Hinata’s leaving for a mission later today, around one, so I gave him the day off. I kind of assumed he’d use the opportunity to seek you out for a spar in the afternoon, after she leaves. He was going on about it yesterday, along with a Team Seven dinner on Saturday night; sounds like that will be at six.”

Sasuke just blinks, gears turning still; the scroll from yesterday is still on the desk, so he's not sure why he'd grant Naruto another day off so easily.

Kakashi further clarifies, smile shifting into something more sly. “I wouldn’t go over there before a little after one, if I were you.”

His first thought is oh, and he feels rather stupid. His next thought is gross. His old sensei is grinning, as if his reaction amuses him; he must have made some kind of face that belayed his internal thought process.

“Ah, love requited and besotten newlyweds. What a time." Sasuke's neck burns again, because he realizes after a second that the ‘love requited' portion of that is referring to Sakura and himself. Kakashi's moving on, though. "Anyway, now that I’ve given you too much information…” His voice trails off, and he looks at the intricate scroll tucked away at the table beside his desk, where Naruto usually sits. “If you’re not busy and want something to do until lunch, you could take a look at this scroll for me, since Naruto won’t be getting to it today.” He appears to be thinking, then adds. “For all his progress, he can still be less than perceptive, in certain instances. Your assistance could be invaluable, since I’m occupied with other tasks at the moment.”

Sasuke ponders for a bit; he has already read a good portion of the way through his books, and it’ll be a few hours before he needs to eat. It's not lost on him that this involves a level of trust in him on Kakashi's part, as whatever is in the scroll is likely not public knowledge.

He decides it can’t hurt, though he hopes he doesn’t get asked any more questions about Sakura. He makes his way to take Naruto’s seat, opening up the scroll.

He stares at it long and hard, rolling it out on the table to examine it more closely. Kakashi wordlessly grabs the stapler on his desk and sets it on the top end of the parchment, to hold it in place as he further unravels it. It appears to be a cipher, and quite a complicated one.

“...You think Naruto’s going to be able to crack this?” Sasuke questions incredulously, glancing towards his old sensei with his brows furrowed in doubt. His eyes catch as he does so on the framed photograph sitting on his desk; from this angle, the side instead of the front, he can now see that it’s their original Team Seven photo. He hasn't seen it in a long time.

Kakashi chuckles, not looking up from his paperwork. “Not at all, which is why I was helping him with it yesterday. It’s good practice for him, though, and at the very least, it does keep him busy when I don't have anything else for him to do.”

XXX

Sasuke ambles back to his apartment around noon. He made some progress on the cipher, enough that Kakashi said Naruto might actually be able to take it from there. It feels good to be of use.

It also feels good to have something to give the idiot shit over, when he goes to visit him later.

He empties the cough drops from his pocket into one of the cups he bought yesterday, and pops another one into his mouth before he starts getting out ingredients to cook. It feels good on his throat, menthol pleasantly numbing despite the slightly sweet taste. He pours a hefty amount of rice into a pot to start boiling, and then begins slicing carrots and scallions and mushrooms for takikomi gohan. It takes a while to slice with one arm, as holding the vegetables in place with one hand is a challenge, but he manages by summoning a clone. Once he’s done, he slips them in a pan with some salt and dashi stock. He also adds frozen peas before covering it with the lid to simmer.

Once that’s going, he washes his hand, then folds the comforter he had washed and left out to dry this morning, ultimately storing it in the closet. He stirs the vegetable mixture occasionally, after, reading more of his book while he waits for the rice to finish. The one about kenjutsu is more interesting than he thought it would be. He might finish it by the time he sees Sakura tomorrow.

He really hopes he can walk her home again; he hadn’t gotten a chance to kiss her today. She might not want him to, if she thinks he's sick, but somehow he suspects she likely understood it wasn't actual illness. She's good at what she does, and smart.

It’s a simple but savory lunch, a larger portion than he’s accustomed to. He eats all of it, albeit slowly, as he reads.

Uncannily, an abrupt and earsplitting knocking erupts on his door as he puts the last bite in his mouth to chew.

“TEME! Open up!” More incessant knocking. “I’m fucking bored, and Kakashi-sensei gave me the day off! Let’s spar!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes and closes his book before standing to rinse his dish, setting it in the sink to wash later, along with the pot and pan already rinsed and stacked there.

“Alright, dobe. You don’t need to bust down my door.”

He grabs another cough drop and removes the tape and cotton from his arm before he goes. It’s a little tender, but the blood has clotted by now.

[favescandis]

New Q&A with Alexander Skarsgård and Esquire Middle East

‘Alexander Skarsgård on pro wrestling, death metal, the joys of Godzilla vs Kong’ - by William Mullally, March 25, 2021

The Swedish star speaks to Esquire Middle East about his latest film, being home in Stockholm, and staying ripped for The Northman during quarantine

Alexander Skarsgård did not have the 2020 the rest of us did. There was no quiet quarantine, no tubs of ice cream devoured at three in the morning, no existential boredom, no staring out the window as we wondered if we’d ever be able to start doing things again.

No, Skarsgård had to spend the year staying in the best shape of his life to play an honest-to-god Viking warrior and Nordic prince Amleth in Robert Eggers’ upcoming epic The Northman. Not that he minded, of course.

Skarsgård is in a very good place. Before The Northman, he filmed Godzilla vs. Kong, which was one of the most joyful experiences of his career. It’s a film that is much better than anyone could have hoped, that fixes the flaws of the previous outings of the franchise in Kong: Skull Island and Godzilla: King of Monsters by making its supporting characters actually interesting to follow—including Skarsgård’s turn as a conspiracy-loving mad scientist named Nathan Lind—and making the battle between the legendary behemoths the stuff of Hulk Hogan vs. Andre the Giant.

Esquire Middle East caught up with the 44-year-old Swedish actor, who is aging like a vampire, fittingly enough, over Zoom ahead of the film’s release.

Read the full ESQ&A with Alexander Skarsgård below:

Alex, it’s great to see you again. How are you?

I’m pretty good. You’re in Dubai, right? I’m in Stockholm, Sweden at the moment.

How long have you been home?

I’ve been here for two months now since I wrapped The Northman.

How’s that been?

Yeah, it's been really nice. I mean, it's obviously a difficult time, but considering everything, I'm lucky, because everyone is doing alright. It's a nice opportunity for me, as I'm constantly on the road normally. It’s great to just be home, and not just for a week around Christmas or weekend over summer. I actually get to be here and spend some real time with my family.

You didn’t have any downtime in 2020?

Well, I was actually shooting for most of 2020. When the pandemic hit, I was in Belfast about to start filming the Northman, then we shut down for three months, and during that I had to train basically. It's a very physical role, so I had to keep working out. I was still in work mode for the whole lockdown. Then in July, we started shooting till the end of the year.

Did you prefer it that way?

I was very grateful to be able to work. It was definitely different from the normal set because we were completely isolated. We got tested three times a week and I basically lived in a bubble up in the hills of Northern Ireland and didn't see anyone didn't do anything for six months other than work and sleep and train.

I have a friend Adlai who lives in that village in Northern Ireland and I kept trying to get him to go break into your set because I needed to know more about this movie.

It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. The most amazing experience.

You’ve been making a habit of working with great horror filmmakers, with Robert Eggers (The Witch) on the Northman, and Adam Wingard (You’re Next) on Godzilla vs. Kong.

What’s interesting about all these guys like Adam and Rob Eggers is they produce these really dark and twisted movies but they are two of the nicest human beings I've ever met. They're so sweet and genuine.

What do you and Adam like to talk about?

Death metal, probably. He's a big metal fan.

Are death metal people sweethearts, generally speaking?

Yeah, actually. Sometimes I feel like that's sometimes the case when you meet musicians in death metal bands they're like the sweetest, loveliest people who talk about their grandmothers and stuff.

Why do you think that is?

Maybe it's cathartic. It's a way to get out all that dark energy onto the big screen or as a musician onto an album.

Did you and Adam click immediately?

I met him years ago for another project. We didn’t end up working together on that but it was such a memorable meeting that we stayed in touch over the years. He’s not only a wonderful guy but so intelligent, such a film buff who knew everything about not only the horror genre, but even just films in general. When Godzilla vs Kong came up, I was just really excited to get an opportunity to work with him.

Were the words ‘Godzilla’ and ‘Kong’ enough for you, or did something specific draw you to this one?

I think it was a combination. I had just come off of a couple of really dark intense projects. I did the Little Drummer Girl, which is a limited series based on the John le Carré novel about conflicts in the Middle East, and I just come off Big Little Lies, two seasons of domestic abuse.

Did you just need something different?

It was just really two of the most rewarding experiences of my career but also really, really draining really intense experiences. I was just craving something fun and exciting. I hadn't done any big tent pole matinee-style movies and since Tarzan.

But you said it was a combination—are you also a Godzilla nerd?

Oh man, I was like a little boy. I just got giddy when I saw the renderings, the drawings, the storyboards, like the world that they wanted to create. I thought tonally they were the right people to make this kind of movie because I thought they had the balls to go all the way and make it as big and crazy and fun as it as I think it deserves to be, with the right amount of sarcasm and irony, but while still taking the topic seriously, and the characters seriously, and really caring about both Kong and Godzilla.

Did you and Adam share a lot creatively back and forth?

Oh, yeah. He would run up to me and ask what if they run into a creature that almost looks like an owl and start explaining how it works. And then you start sketching something on a piece of tissue. And then a week later, he would come back with something amazing that the visual artists have created. To be part of that from an early stage is so exciting to me.

As a pro wrestling fan, that balance of ironic and serious you mentioned sounds awfully familiar to me. Did you guys make a pro wrestling movie on purpose?

It’s a lot like pro wrestling. Like, you want the fights to be big spectacular, fun, and entertaining. But you want to care about the wrestlers, right? You want to root for them. I think Adam did such a great job in finding that tone. They beat the sh*t out of each other on an aircraft carrier, but you also want to connect with these creatures and care about them. The movie asks, what does Kong really wants other than beat up Godzilla? What is he longing for in life?

That’s exactly what I think when I watch the Undertaker throw Mankind off Hell in a Cell.

Absolutely!

Godzilla vs. Kong is in theaters now across the Middle East

https://www.esquireme.com/content/51448-alexander-skarsgard-on-pro-wrestling-death-metal-the-joys-of-godzilla-vs-kong-the-northman-interview

Photo from WarnerBros. Entertainment. Thanks to SophTop on Delish for the find!

[the-real-tc]

Heartland Grows Up

This serves as a sort-of “review” of the first three episodes of Season 14, since I don’t think there’s a need for a blow-by-blow analysis of all of them. I will say I am thoroughly impressed by what I’ve seen so far; more than I have been by any new season of Heartland I have seen.

Now that we’re all up-to-speed on the biggest thing to ever happen on our beloved show, let me just say definitively that I am at once surprised and impressed the Writers had the guts to take this shocking plot development to the limit. 

We all saw the signs. Graham Wardle was getting restless. After spending more than a decade as Ty Borden, the guy felt it was time to move on. He’s been moving on for quite a while, and the show was suffering because of it. 

I am fairly easy-going when it comes to my entertainment. But one thing I can’t abide is lazy writing, or drama for the sake of drama. 

Ty dying is not “drama for the sake of drama”; at least not in the usual sense. This turn of events was not some out-of-left-field scheme to shock viewers. This was a carefully considered plot to facilitate Wardle’s permanent departure.

I feel quite sad for the fans who watch Heartland just for the cutesy happiness of the Amy and Ty pairing. I could say more about what I really feel about all the (what I feel to be) spiteful, bratty comments from other viewers, but I won’t. Suffice it to say I think killing off an important character like Ty is the single most important development that could have ever happened to the show.

Ty’s death has now catapulted the show into realms that were never before possible. In my opinion, the show—at its core—has always been about A Girl and Her Horse. Yes, it is also an ensemble show, meaning we have secondary characters whose lives we care about and whose side stories help flesh out the Heartland universe, but let’s face it: every single character could depart and the show could still go on—with the exception of Amy Fleming. Those who know me know if there’s any pairing on the Show I’m most interested in—it’s Jack and Lisa, so whatever happened with Amy and Ty was just a matter of course. They were the central pairing we were supposed to root for (and I did), care for (and I did). But there’s a burden when you’re the “it” couple on a show. How do you keep things fresh and interesting without resorting to the same old tropes and predictable relationship woes? 

Sure, Heartland could have limped along the way it always has with the horse-problem-of-the-week, but for how long? How vanilla is that? If that’s what floats most the viewers’ boats week-in and week-out, more power to them, I guess. For me, I’m thrilled to have something meatier after so many seasons of increasingly bland fare. How much longer could we have suspended our disbelief that Ty was “away” for whatever reason? Untenable, and unsustainable. Ty had to die for the show to be reborn; or maybe for the show to mature a little. 

Already the first three episodes of Season 14 have demonstrated Heartland can handle heavier drama than characters getting stranded in a snowed-in cabin or silly teen rivalries and love triangles; it can handle more than plane crashes and greedy poachers, improbable hostage takings and kidnappings. Heartland can do raw grief, and the actors have been knocking it out of the park. 

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, because I appreciate so much all the care that’s been taken to do justice to Wardle’s departure/Ty’s death: the Writers are giving us permission to grieve. Too often in TV a character dies, their friends and family are shown to be upset, sad, sorrowing, etc., for maybe an episode (two, if we’re lucky), and then that’s it. Sometimes, we don’t even get that, and while we would like to be given time to process a beloved character’s death, the TV show must go on, and so it does. We aren’t given permission to mourn the character because we don’t get the cathartic release of seeing the other characters mourning.

Not so with Heartland. They’re doing it the right way, in my opinion. Jack told Amy there’s no right way to grieve and everyone grieves differently. I get the impression this is going to be a recurring theme throughout this season as they all come to terms with what happened: Amy was numb for a whole year. Tim and Jack repressed their anger in their own ways. Lily fell off the wagon hard. Georgie apparently buried herself in her studies. Lou ignored it and focused on her mayoral duties. But watching them all dealing with what has happened means I can release my emotions, and the brilliant part is I don’t feel manipulated into crying. In fact, I’ve had to make a good effort not to sob out loud at some of the scenes, though tears have certainly flowed on a few occasions. 

Ty had to die to get the show past its creative rut. That may sound crass and callous, but I’ll reiterate it’s the best thing that could have happened to the Show at this juncture, and that’s no knock on Graham Wardle. Had he been willing to be 100% invested in the series until its conclusion instead of this one-foot-in-one-foot-out scenario, perhaps things might have been okay. They could have coasted along, telling very middle-of-the-road stories like always, and the fans would have continued to come back to the very comfortable, safe, predictable Heartland universe. No complaints. No grievances. Everyone goes home happy and content. I would also have hung on, if not out of plain loyalty and the enjoyment I get from interacting with fellow fans.

Well, we all just had a massive wake-up call, and I’m here for it. Heartland has grown up, thanks largely to the massive risk taken by the Writers, and by the excellent performances by all the players—Amber Marshall in particular—who has really dived deep into the depths of exploring Amy’s grief. I hope the Canadian Screen Award folks take notice, because this is some of the best acting I’ve ever seen from her. 

I’m looking forward to seeing what else is in store for us in Season 14, and hopefully beyond.

[peepspersonalperspective]

MY PICKS: Top 10 K-Dramas

Disclaimer: These are totally subjective choices and I've justified them as per my preferences. Consider them friendly recommendations and let me know if you disagree. Also, I've discovered the wonderful world of K-Dramas over the last couple of years and they've really evolved not just in storytelling but also production value so I personally prefer the more recent ones. So for example I haven't put a very popular pick like My Love from the Star simply because I've seen better stuff since (don't shoot me). Anyway, 가자!

MEMORIES OF ALAHAMBRA

This is my first recommendation for anyone who's just starting out watching Korean television content simply because it's so different from what new viewers expect it to be. It's so gripping and thrilling. I would expect nothing less from Song Jae Jung's writing.

So it's a sci-fi show, set in Spain, about an augmented reality game, that seems to have physical implications in the real world, sending the lead, Hyun Bin on a rollercoaster ride to find answers. Exo's Chanyeol has a recurring role as the game developer, so that's exciting too. I learnt that he was cast because of his love for PubG. Lol.

Every episode will leave you wanting more, and you'll find yourself as desperate to search for answers as Yoo Jin Woo (Hyun Bin).

Granted, mid season, it gets a little complicated, especially with newer nuances of the game unfolding, but fret not because the characters are discovering the secrets of the game with you. So they're as confused as you would be, and that's why this show is so good! More so because the graphics are excellent! You can tell they really spent money on ensuring high quality work. You will really feel like you're part of the game with Yoo Jin Woo.

Anyway, if you are an EXO-L, or you like gaming, sci-fi, thriller and Hyun Bin, this show is great!

2. W - Two Worlds

Another piece of awesome from Song Jae Jung. I would still rank this show a little below Alahambra, because I think the makers made improvements from this sci-fi drama in Alahambra, in the sense of storytelling. Still, W is just as intriguing.

Oh Yeon Joo (Han Hyo Joo) gets sucked into a comic book where she falls in love with the lead character of the comic book, Kang Chul (Lee Jeong Suk). Sounds like a typical romance drama right? Don't be fooled because there are many many twists and turns along the way.

I feel like there is metaphor in there somewhere about existentialism, the creation and destiny. But maybe that's just me reading into things.

Lee Jeong Suk is extremely desirable as Kang Chul, unsuspectingly charming and endearing, and Oh Yeon Joo is an absolutely relatable character, and how she deals as an ordinary girl thrown into extraordinary circumstances is genuine.

I would say this drama is wholesome, with sci-fi, suspense, thriller, action, romance, filial relationships, and more. And while it's usually difficult to jam pack all this into one show without screwing it up, W emerges exceptional.

3. Extraordinary You

This show is so cute! If you want just a light hearted, quirky show, this is the one for you.

It's about characters in a cartoon becoming aware of their existence in a cartoon. But don't worry this is NOTHING like W.

The best part about the show is that it's not about the main characters of the said cartoon. It's the story about the extras finding their way in that world, hence the pun intended in the title. The main characters (of the cartoon) are actually the most dull, because they are bound by the laws of stereotypical high school romance. But the real stuff is happening on the sidelines, with Kim Hye Yoon as Dan Oh and Rowoon as Haru.

Dan Oh is a hilarious character and Kim Hye Yoon does a fantastic job of switching emotions when she's in and out of a scene in the cartoon. One minute she goes into character mode, next minute she's bitching at the sorry fate of her character when she wakes up, to the astonishment of the characters surrounding her (who aren't aware of their reality yet).

Rowoon has a quiet charm about him that perfectly complements Hye Yoon. Check it out for a chuckle and a taste of something different.

4. Crash Landing on You

This show is hard not to like. Apart from the poorly picturized tornado carrying our leading lady over the border to North Korea, this show is a wonderful Netflix and Chill kind of show, I think.

The cultural disparity between the South and North is interesting to watch and also entertaining. Like when they mention buying mobile games at an App store (a literal application store in a Pyongyang market).

Ri Jung Hyuk (Hyun Bin again) and Yoon Seri (Son Yejin) are such a delight in comedic, romantic, and dramatic scenes. But the scene stealer for me was Yang Kyun Won as Pyo Chi Soo, and his unshakeable nationalism that he is ready to set aside for some shampoo and conditioner.

The interesting thing is going into the show, you have an idea of the longevity, so ofcourse, Seri's journey back to the South ain't going to be easy, also her relationship with Ri Jung Hyuk is doomed, and yet you find yourself rooting for them at each step, crying with them during their failures and crying with them even in their triumph. But the most tears were shed for the least expected character, who simply left us all heart broken.

5. Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo

In a world where women are expected to behave and look a certain way to be considered attractive by someone they're vying for, here's a food hogging, tomboy, weightlifting champ, with her first crush.

The premise may rope you into the show, but midway you realise that the heart of the show is in its characters, and without realising you become so invested in them that you feel their fears, insecurities, and cherish their victories with them.

This coming of age show really relishes on the quirks of each character, friendship, love and aspirations. It's not a very dramatic story which is probably why it didn't rate very high during its broadcast, but that's part of its charm, and that's why it's been able to gather a significant cult following since.

Lee Sung Kyung and Nam Joo Hyuk portray the most sincere friends and eventual couple. Their relationship blossoms in the most organic manner and it's so heartwarming. They're not cheesy or unrealistic; they even beat each other up! I don't think I've seen that level of comfort portrayed on screen so well before.

Watch out for guest appearances by Ji Soo and Lee Jeong Suk.

6. Strong Girl Do Bong Soon

I'll be honest, this recommendation is mainly for Park Hyung Sik. He's amazing in the show. And there could be no better supernaturally strong petite girl than Park Bo Young, either.

So there are actually a lot of things happening in the show, story wise, but I promise it all comes together in the end. There is quite a build up and I'm happy that it pays off adequately.

This is like a superhero show with all the spices and flavours of a Marvel movie, but K-Drama style. There's an invincible villain, some idiot gangsters for comedic value, romance (a love triangle infact), functional training, a point of lost hope for Bong Soon, and then her resurrection as a superhero.

It's all there, and more.

But Park Hyung Sik.....

7. Itaewon Class

This recommendation is simply for the refreshing change of representation on TV. I know a lot has already been spoken about it already, but I have to admit that that's what sets this revenge drama apart. That, and the music. Dayum, Start by Gaho is so catchy! And let's not forget V's Sweet Night.

This show starts off slow but give it 3 episodes before it gets to the real shit.

Park Saeroyi is almost too good to be true, and in that lies his shortcoming. His character is so strong that while watching him I forgot that Park Seo Joon was acting. And despite some unnerving moments I found myself rooting for him. He has some strong motivational lines too, like about his choice for a better life. His determination is almost unreal, as he goes on to take down his mortal enemy.

Some of the best scenes, though, are of Jo Yi Seo (Kim Dami), a sociopathic enterprising genius. She was the one who actually kept me hooked to the series. She added some much needed flair to the show, and as it appears to Park Saeroyi's establishment.

Actually, every character was strong, every character had a strong backstory and motivation for the action, and most importantly they never broke character.

Watch out for Park Bo Gum's special appearance.

8. Love In The Moonlight

Speaking of Park Bo Gum...

This show is all kinds of weird in the best way! A girl pretends to be a palace eunuch and falls in love with the crown Prince. That is so messed up!

But that's the fun part! And Park Bo Gum and Kim You Jung make it a wonderful ride. Full of quirky romance, political conflicts and hidden identity issues, this show is addictive af!

And even though this wasn't in the show and was just a promo, be sure to watch Park Bo Gum's Bombastic dance. It's adorable!

9. The Third Charm

I'm sure this is my least popular recommendation. But something about watching this show was so cathartic. I highly recommend it for those who may have gone through heartbreak ever in their lives.

This is probably one of those rare times when I was lost in the story instead of Seo Kang Jun's eyes. Hehe. This story is about an on again off again couple and their journey through life together and apart.

This was meant to be a healing drama, and it really does take you through the emotional evolution that comes with growing up. I think it's the perfect medicine for a healing heart.

10. It's Okay Not To Be Okay

This show! This is my current obsession. Kim Soo Hyun's comeback couldn't have been more perfect. Seo Yeji couldn't have been a more perfect casting. And the two leads couldn't have had a better chemistry.

This show is all kinds of whimsical and I love it. Also a healing drama, this show deals with.... Baggage....to put it simply. Some baggage may be bigger than other baggage, some even irrevocable. But seeing all the characters overcome this baggage is so fulfilling.

But the charm of this show is in Ko Moon Young's (Seo Yeji) craziness and the Tim Burton-esque setup, that really makes one perceive fairytales in a whole new way. I mean I always knew that fairytales were sanitized German folklore, but I never thought to find a very different messaging from the material. The parables are ingenious, and it really is a pleasure to watch each and every person on this show.

Special mentions: Goblin, Reply 1988, 30 but 17/ Still 17, My ID is Gangnam Beauty, Hotel Del Luna