#i like designing characters at different stages of life

[blackpanda-ts4]

My dynasty finally found it's place!

And this became possible thanks to SimsDynastyTree!!! • Since I have been using the Figma template for my dynasty tree for a long time, first of all I would like to note the intuitive, responsive, concise and easy-to-learn interface of the site (those who also used Figma will understand me);

• I was very pleased with the interface of the tree itself, which is made in the style of The Sims 4. Thanks to this, the tree does not look "foreign", and perfectly combines with the game itself, complementing it;

• Despite the fact that the appearance of the tree is close in design to what we are used to seeing in the game, there are many customization options on the site: background, icons with characters, relationship lines and even the icon of the heir display - all this can be customized to your liking from the blanks proposed by the developers. By combining these blanks with each other, you can create a truly unique style for your tree;

• Special attention should be paid to the icons of relationships and life forms, which were hand-drawn by the project designer. They fit perfectly into the game style, although they differ from those icons that are presented in the game;

• PHOTO GALLERY! You can create your own photo gallery for EACH character in the tree and add a description to each photo. Saving a character's memories of places and events that are important to him is now easier than ever;

• In addition, the character card contains special slots for portraits corresponding to each life stage (from newborn to elder). I need this function like no other - I really like to watch my dynasties grow up and change;

• As a user, I was very pleased that the Sims DynastyTree development team does not stand still, but constantly develops its project, improving the functionality of the tree.

• And it's free! Of course, you can buy a subscription to open additional customization options, but the main functionality of the tree is absolutely free.

• Summarizing all of the above, I can say with confidence that, whether you are hardcore dynasty player or, like me, humble owner of a small family that has only three generations, SimsDynastyTree can become a worthy repository of memories of the time spent with your characters.

[totalswagisland]

design of ~middle school age bridgette. her fashion style can only be described as "tropical adam sandler"

[mumblesplash]

don’t you hate it when your civilization flees deep underground to escape the wither only to find yourselves trapped down there with something even worse. anyway surprise! i can still draw

[hugintheraven]

How Bethesda fixed Vampires without realizing it

So there's a LOT of takes on vampires across media, and most of them are radically different from each other. The Elder Scrolls series has an interesting version that I haven't seen anywhere else, that incidentally fixes a bunch of lore issues with vampires, and yet Bethesda hasn't ever really leaned into any of that.

So, the issue with vampires in large RPGs like Elder Scrolls games, D&D, etc, is that a world where various elements of character building are supposed to be balanced, vampires are heavy on the upside and light on meaningful drawbacks. So in Oblivion, Bethesda completely reworked their vampires, coming at it with a blank slate:

Vampirism is a 4-stage affliction, with each stage increasing the numerous benefits of being a vampire as well as the middling drawbacks. Stage 4 brings with it all humanoid NPCs recognizing you as a ravenous monster and attacking you, basically wrecking the game. And, this is the unique part, you reduce stages by drinking blood. Being a vampire is LESSENED by doing the most vampiric thing out there, it actively makes you weaker.

And this is great. From a gameplay perspective, you vanish below ground to kill zombies/robots/whatever, and you grow stronger as the dungeon goes on. But if you don't rush through it, or if it's large, you surface having ignored your hunger for several days and have to do a whole second quest to sneak into town at night and drink blood, where the only reward is to engage with the game again. It's a drawback in the gameplay sense rather than the stats sense. And it lets game designers throw the player against weak vampires in town early on, and face dungeons full of max-bloodlust monsters later once the player knows how things work.

Meanwhile, from a lore perspective this is also great. Suddenly, it's not that vampires have to be evil, it's that they have a choice. A good person who flees their family to hide in a cave is going to starve, turning into a ravenous, uncontrolled, extremely strong monster. Someone who's comfortable sneaking around town drinking blood, meanwhile? They never lose control. They walk in the sun. They're perfectly human. Or as human as anyone can be while the blood of their neighbors flows in their veins.

And Bethesda doesn't DO ANYTHING with this. People you talk to in-game just treat it as "all vampires are evil, why would you expect anything else", when they've created a world where vampire morality is so much more interesting. The few vampires who exist in civilization that you're not supposed to kill don't really discuss their condition at all. And there's plenty of evil vampires choosing to live in caves running societies of vampires, when that makes no sense compared to basically any other way of life they could set up.

Bethesda games are a masterful disaster, in this as in everything else.

[runningwithscizzorz]

(1)Learn the rules before you break them + Gather proper references

(2) Understand what you want to break and how

(3) Can't do it? Find someone who can

(4) It's going to look really bad for a while

(5) Have fun with it!

(1) -Yes, I am that kind of artist. Yet, not in the conventional way. I encourage people to go in guns blazing when it comes to drawing something new, then coming out analyzing what they know, and what they need to learn more of right away.

-Here, I broke down the anatomical pieces of Nour and Narinder's face with the same labels so you guys can understand this weird invisible pattern that I follow in my work. Doing this with any animal you're attempting to draw greatly improves your line confidence when drawing different face shapes. Also understanding the biological function for why animals look a certain way helps you keep consistency.

(3) Time to throw any artistic guilt you have for heavily referencing people's art OUT THE WINDOW and start ANALYZING PEOPLE'S WORK YOU WANT TO BE LIKE✨ I've always done this, having a reference of someone else's amazing work right next to my own drawing so I can try and understand how they make their magic work! No shame, no embarrassment, nada. Pure, unadulterated will and spite that I would be just as good as the artist who made me so motivated and happy with their work! I couldn't figure out how to make Nour's face both sheep-like, and humanly expressive, so I looked at a LOT of Zootopia and old Disney art for help!

(2) With how I draw narilamb, I'm still working on it (as you can see) but I wanted to break Narinder's face to be fluffier and slimmer, while Nour's face would be shorter and flatter. If you look at it for too long, it's absolutely going to look weird, in the way that if you look at Anna from Frozen for too long she starts looking really weird. The anatomy isn't meant to be correct or consistent, it's meant to convey the emotion and energy I want out of the characters in that moment. If you're able to properly get that across, then you don't need to think about how broken something looks, as long as your eye is happy enough to trick your brain into thinking what you're seeing is canny.

(4) Yeah, I hate this part too. It's going to look like shit at first. I can't even look at my art from a few months ago when I was figuring out their designs... God, so fucking ugly. If it weren't for the shittiness of those drawings, I would have never gotten here! Wading through the "trust the process" stage always really sucks, but it's absolutely worth the relief of when you finally get something to look right.

(5) Art is work, yes. It's stressful, it's long, it's straining, its draining, it's exclaiming, blah blah blah. But, I try to keep my art FUN. If I find my artwork becoming slow as I depressingly drag my pen over my tablet, I'm failing. You MUST keep spirit and life in your work. The spirit of emptiness or the life of sadness can have a very meaningful place in art, but those can only exist with keeping work light, easy, and fun! If you're stressing how a specific thing looks or how you can't get something to look right no matter what, FUCK IT. Draw something to bring the flavor back in your work! I'm kind of rambling, but just, HAVE FUN!✨️ Be messy, scream, laugh, slash canvases, throw paint, smash sculptures, tear apart books, GO CRAZY

[demonslayerunhinged]

*cw: this theory deals with child sexual abuse and has mentions of suicidal ideation and eating disorders.

*If you or anyone you know is going through this, you can find resources here, here and here as well as a list of international hotlines.

Obanai is probably the second most hated character in the fandom, and just like Sanemi, he’s one of the most misunderstood. I think the hate he gets from the fandom is unwarranted; he’s accused of being a dick, a horrible person, a simp and a character who only exists to be Mitsuri’s love interest. All of which is unfair, sure he’s prickly and unapproachable, but he’s not as bad as the fandom makes him out to be.

So, in my quest to draft a defense for our favorite snek boy, I reread his backstory and in doing so, I realized something sad

Unhinged theory

Obanai is a sexual abuse survivor

Let me explain:

Obanai’s backstory and aspects of his character mirrors that of someone who’s been through sexual trauma. The evidence I'm going to present is a combination of my own knowledge about these matters and information I got from forums and websites for male survivors of sexual abuse. So let's examine them...um spoilers

The snake demon

I believe that the snake demon is a metaphor for a sexual predator. Her inclusion in the family could also be a metaphor for how these predators insert themselves into family units-or most of the time are family members themselves-and abuse the children for years and even generations. Obanai's relatives sacrificing their babies to her could signify the real life actions of families who are unaware or, turn a blind eye to, or sometimes actively participate in the abuse of their children.

The sacrifice in exchange for wealth speaks of how families in real life ignore the abuse of their children to maintain the wealth and status they obtain from being related to and associated with the abuser.

Even her decision to wait, ordering the cutting of his mouth so he would look like her, could be interpreted as her 'grooming' him in a sense.

Even her design has a certain sexual, predatory aspect to it that's different from the other demons.

His relatives

Obanai describes his family members as being 'disgustingly' affectionate and bringing him lots of 'greasy' food that made him sick. Food in media is often used to depict love, affection, connection and sex, and Demon Slayer is no different.

There are plenty of instances where food and the giving of food has been used to denote friendship (Tanjiro giving Zenitsu, Inosuke and Genya meals in an attempt to bond with them), connection (Giyuu wanting to give Sanemi ohagi), love (Tanjiro's love of cooking and the satisfaction he shows when his meals are enjoyed by others) and pleasure (Mitsuri's large appetite). I'll make a post about this later.

With this context, we can interpret their bringing of rich foods, their overbearing attention and affections as them objectifying and even being sexually inappropriate with him.

The sexual abuse

Non-physical.

The first instance of abuse is non-physical, but that doesn't make it any less important. Being constantly visited by the snake demon in his room at night, Obanai described his feelings of terror, being paralyzed and watched. His body would break out in a sweat, and he would be unable to fall asleep.

His descriptions of the experience and his body's reaction to it reminded me of some survivors' stories I read, where they talked about how in the initial stages of the abuse or when the abuser was first introduced into their lives, their abuser would give them unwanted attention, would stare at them in a way that felt creepy, gross and wrong.

Some had their abusers come in to their rooms, maybe under the guise of 'checking in on them'. They described feeling terrified, freezing up with the hopes that the attacker would leave. Some would take measures such as sleeping with the door locked or with a heavy object against it, sleeping with a sibling or parent, sleeping in a hiding spot that the attacker knows nothing about or not sleeping at all.

Physical.

The specific age that the snake demon plans to 'eat' Obanai is never stated, but from what we've seen so far and in the sexual context, we can assume that she's waiting until he hits puberty. Some studies state that the average age of victims of female sex offenders usually falls around 14 years, but there are cases where the female predator waited until their victim reached sexual maturity before they carried out their abuse, like in the case of Mary Kay Letourneau. Here's a video that breaks down an interview she did before her death.

Obanai was 12 when he was dragged out of his cell to be subjected to what I believe is the first physical abuse. He had his mouth slit from ear to ear, with the blood collected and fed to her. The snake demon decided to have him live a little longer, which again, fits into my theory of her wanting to wait until he reached puberty.

Bodily violation, violence and blood are common allegories for sexual assault used in media and in Obanai's backstory we see it being used when his relatives drag him from his cell, literally pin him down, cut his mouth and feed his blood to the snake demon. The act of feeding on his blood could also be a metaphor for the snake demon sexually abusing him.

His escape and the resulting fallout

Obanai managed to escape, and although he was tracked down by the snake demon, he was saved by Shinjuro Kengoku before she could kill him. His cousin's response was to blame him for all that happened, asked why he ran away, and said that he should have 'allowed' the demon to eat him.

This could represent how some victims are rejected, ostracized and criticized for speaking out against their attacker, exposing the abuse to the public and getting help. Their families would say 'you should have just let it happen', 'you destroyed the family', 'why did you run away, tell people?' and place the blame on the victim.

Obanai's reaction

There are three aspects of his characterization that are similar to the common reactions noticed in adult survivors of sexual assault, especially male survivors.

His appearance.

His behavior.

His beliefs.

His appearance

Obanai has a small frame that he hides with his baggy uniform and haori. I can tell it's baggy compared to that of the other slayers because of the width of his pants vs the width of his lower legs. Desexualization or hypo-sexualization is a common response among some survivors of sexual trauma, this usually involves wearing clothes and taking measures to make themselves look 'unattractive'.

'But this side feels more comfortable for me, like the baggy clothes I wear, which hide my body, and the long sleeves which reach past my wrists. I promised myself no man would ever touch me again, and whether it was a moment of triumph, or a moment of defeat, I still don't know.'

'I'm thin, shy. I seem easy to dominate. I've grown a beard. That's helped a little. I dress in baggy clothes, covering as much of my skin as possible. That makes me feel safe.'

This not only helps regain a sense of control and power over their body but also serves as a protective measure against sexual advances so they don't get abused again.

In Obanai, given his history of receiving unwanted, suffocating and 'disgusting' attention from his female relatives, it would make sense that he would want to dress in a way that makes him unapproachable and hides his body from the opposite sex. We can see his attempts to desexualize himself in the picture below:

His behavior

'Iguro has difficulty with girls. Due to his experiences growing up, he was unable to conquer his fear and animosity. Plus, the firls who joined the Demon Slayer Corps often put on brave faces because of their sad backgrounds, so he felt sorry for them, making him uncomfortable in a different way.' - Taisho Whispers, official English translation.

'Iguro-san isn't good with women. Due to his upbringing he has a fear and disgust towards women. (I couldn't overcome it easily. The women who joined the Demon Slayer Corps have painful stories of determination. I felt sorry for them and I didn't get along with them in a way that was different from the way I got along with my family)' - Taisho Whispers, direct-sort-of-shitty translation via Google Translate.

Male survivors who were victims of childhood abuse by female perpetrators often talk about how the abuse greatly affected their relationships with women or lack thereof. Some going so far as to say that they became afraid of women, being around them and how sometimes being touched by women would trigger panic attacks and remind them of the trauma.

Here are some quotes posted in a thread on the Male Survivor forum. Full thread here.

'Once that happened, my genophobia became more intense. I couldn't ware short trousers in summer, could never go swimming, got paranoid if I touched a woman's arm or even brushed against one, would always stand at a distance from female friends, and would literally leave the room if anything explicit was discussed.'

'I have started to have strange, deep discomforting feelings as I remember some of the assaults and I have gotten to a place where touch from a woman makes my hair stand up, makes me nauseous, and gives me chills and feelings of dread.'

Obanai has similar responses when he finds himself in proximity to women. We're only told about it in the main manga, but it's shown in the Gakuen. I know the Gakuen takes place in an alternate universe, but aside from the events, the behaviors of the characters are based on their actual personalities in the main manga, so we can safely say the reactions he displays in the Gakuen is canon to his character.

His beliefs

Adult survivors of sexual abuse often struggle with feelings of guilt, rage, and shame. In the manga, Obanai talks about being held back by the decaying hands of his family members, which could represent the long-lasting effects of sexual abuse and how some survivors carry these burdens all through adulthood or throughout their lives.

There's also the thoughts about himself that echo the heartbreaking thoughts shared by some male survivors.

Guilt:

"As the member of a filthy family, I too was corrupt. My sins were deep, so I could not live a normal life"

Rage:

"With no other outlet, I turned all my rage on demons in a grudge of intense hatred. By risking my life for others, I felt as if I could in some way become a slightly better person."

Shame:

"Unless I die and come back in a different body in which this filthy blood does not flow, I have no right to be with you."

Suicidal ideation(mild):

"By risking my life for others, I felt as if I could in some way become a slightly better person."

"I want to die defeating Muzan." (He's the only character that I know of that outright says this.)

He also kind-of expresses his feelings of being weak during the fight with Muzan:

"I've accomplished less in this battle than anyone! I wish I could deliver a more effective attack."

While this quote isn't exactly definite, a feeling of being weak, or being 'less of a man' is also a common experience shared by male sexual assault survivors.

The scar and It's symbolism

The scar is a physical manifestation of the lifelong effect that sexual abuse has on its victims and the stigma it carries. For Obanai, it's not just a painful reminder of the trauma he suffered at the hands of his family, but also a reminder to him that he's like his attacker, the snake demon. The bandages he wraps around his mouth symbolizes not just his attempts to hide his trauma, but also his inability to talk about it due to shame and fear, which is unfortunately an all too common experience of male survivors.

Another struggle survivors often experience is with intimacy, romantic relationships and sex. For Obanai, I believe that this struggle is represented by his eating disorder. The link between food and sex is a well established belief in many cultures, people with large appetites can be seen as having equally high sex drives while people with small appetites have little or no sex drive.

As he grows older, his little appetite is basically him curbing his growing sexual desire, which he sees as ugly, like the scar on his mouth. But the thing is Obanai wants love, he wants to love and be loved, to be intimate with another person, but he feels he doesn't deserve it, after all he's filthy, shameful and probably a predator just like the snake demon. So he starves himself, suffering in silence with the belief that he was disgusting, that no one would ever love him, that he was destined to and deserved to be alone.

Then he met Mitsuri.

In Conclusion, Obanai is way more complex than the KnY fandom gives him credit for. This is a man that went through immense suffering, and it's really sad to see people hate on him because he isn't 'nice'.

Well, that's just how life is. Trauma doesn't exactly make nice people. We can't all be like Giyuu or Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤), a lot of us are like Obanai, Sanemi, and even Shinobu, a lot of us are angry, and why shouldn't we be?

...

*Phew, ok so this one has been in the drafts for a while because I was scared to post such a dark subject matter and also I needed to be really sure I wasn't just talking out of my ass but after rereading his backstory and analyzing aspects of his character, I'm more confident about this.

[godbirdart]

Looking at your recent commissions, those backgrounds are soo pretty!! Do you have any tips for backgrounds? I always struggle with them :>

aAA many many thanks!!

backgrounds can absolutely be a struggle but they don't have to be! they just require a little more creative planning~!

whether it be a commission or a personal drawing, if I'm building an elaborate art piece i focus on establishing the background First.

the background is the stage for your character! planning the background first will make it easier to tailor the character's actions and how they interact with the environment around them.

planning the background first can be the difference between your character standing awkwardly front and center with the setting going on behind them, or actually participating in their environment.

if i'm super stumped for background ideas, i browse stock image sites to get inspiration. sometimes it helps to doodle on an image to generate some ideas - kinda like you're playing with JPEGs like dolls.

that said - while i'm pinpointing WHAT i want to draw, i keep the ideas loose. i don't want to focus on the itty-bitty details until i've got the overall aesthetic and layout in mind, as i might get inspired to add something in later!

THUMBNAILING

if you're planning a big piece it can be helpful to break it down into something bite-sized before you go all in and start lining or painting. these are "thumbnails" - fast little sketches that establish the scene in a way that doesn't consume a lot of time or effort. it's also great as a little perspective exercise as a treat.

here i decided i want to draw a character walking home in a back alley street. with these photo references in mind, i can plan a layout and how the character will act in the scene. is this a candid shot? are they posing cutely? are they looking down at us in a tense way? there are many ideas to be had!

after you've chosen the layout / vibe for your idea, you can scale up your thumbnail to your preferred canvas size and start fleshing out the details. be sure to keep referring to your reference images to get additional ideas, such as storefronts, items, props etc!

3D MODELS

If you're trying to create a unique environment that photo references simply cannot help you visualize, 3D models exist! This gives you that ability to rotate / scale things for better visualization. Clip Studio has a vast catalogue of 3D models to download For Free that you can fiddle around with. i know there are many 3D builder sites out there as well, though i've never made use of them so i'm afraid i cannot recommend any off the top of my head. hell, you can even use the Sims game to design a setting and go from there!

also if anyone is going to come into my house and say 3D models are cheating: they are not. using a 3D model to better grasp an angle or get a better idea for perspective is not cheating. using 3D models to help plan the environment in your art is not cheating. they are no different than brushes; these are tools made to HELP YOU. use them!

PERSPECTIVE

perspective and angles can make a HUGE difference in the art piece. there's nothing wrong with static long shots! if that's what you want to draw, do it!! there's no right and wrong here!

but if you're finding your work to be a little robotic and stiff, slap an angle in there. consider an overhead view. these same techniques are applied to photography and film! nothing wrong with wide shots, but every once in a while it can help to throw in a dutch angle.

if there is one note i'd like to leave off on, it's that your backgrounds do not have to be 100% accurate-to-life to be Good. unless realism is something you're really striving for in your style, don't feel compelled to nitpick every brick and leaf in your art. us artists can tend to over-prune our work until our art looks a little bare and soulless. flaws can give your work character, and that's often a lot more appealing than how accurate the scale ratio between background building A and building B are [again, unless you WANT to go for that realistic look then you can fuss over those details all you like].

i hope this helped a little! MY APOLOGIES FOR MAKING IT SO LONG AH

[fumifooms]

Laios Touden and autism; admiring the non-human

Do you think people exaggerate when they scream about Laios being autistic? Do you feel like it’s weird that so many people including autistics are so set on Laios, the problematic (but incredible and kind) king TM, being the most autistic that has ever autisticed? Why do we cheer on autistic people wanting to be monsters?? Isn’t that weird?

Well, of course it depends on the way it’s done, it can be done quite offensively, but long story short Kui blew it out of the park. The thing is, autistic people really do like monsters and animals and robots. Nonhuman does not mean subhuman, it just means Other. Feeling a connection with them has been shown to be an extremely common autistic experience for that very reason.

Because some people don’t understand why we autistic Tumblr Laios stans cheer “autism! Autism!” whenever he talks about monsters and feeling alienated to humans so! Here’s a post about how yes even research papers are analyzing the special connection we form with animals. I’m not even joking but Laios Touden & the mass cries of relatability with autistic people he gets and all the love for him could be used as study material and evidence for future papers because the link is that strong. Oh also I think it’s notable that being autistic and undiagnosed vs diagnosed makes a huge difference. In my experience as someone who was undiagnosed up until 18, it’s even more alienating to not know that there’s a reason why you’re different, being gaslit that you’re ‘normal’ and you just need to try harder and get with the program, etc. Personally when getting diagnosed I went through the 5 stages of grief because the thought of having been fundamentally different all your life (a difference which you will never be able to change) and mistreated for it when you weren’t “wrong” all along makes you unload all the anger and sadness and loneliness and sheer trauma you’ve built up over time. Like it’s world shattering.

So! Back to seeing dogs as family. Also I implore you to value experiential evidence when it comes to autism and other neurodivergences because brains are complicated and neurotypicals not being able to understand us well even with scientific research is like, a whole thing even though we’re right there speaking about how we feel and being right every time because the topic is literally us and how we experience the world. 

Disclaimer for this whole post that, of course, no group is a monolith and everyone has different experiences or can diverge from the norm of the group, and that doesn’t diminish the validity of either side! Like, I know autistic people who have trauma with dogs and hate them. But, trends do happen, and in this case... Autism is very “My experiences with humans make me feel dehumanized in a bad and lonely way so instead I’ll dehumanize myself in a good and inspiring way”.

“I was treated like a failed human my entire life and you’re surprised that my response was to become a dog.” -Patricia Taxxon

It’s literally well recorded that autistic people relate to animals more than humans globally. With this post, besides spreading autistic Laios truthism and explaining why the portrayal hits so deep for so many,  I want to show in what way this is a very specific experience and not looking at his character through an autistic lense really misses a lot of why he’s everything that he is. (Tacking allegedly onto here for legal reasons, different interpretations are valid etc etc /gen). This honestly isn’t super long though.

To define an important term, anthropomorphism in the studies and in this post means to attribute human traits to the nonhuman, which not only includes anthro furry designs but also animals irl, inanimate objects, and animated media as opposed to live action, to humanize them and empathize with them.

Paper: https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/aut.2019.0027 

“Dogs taught me how to hunt and socialize and work in groups”, Laios having internalized body language... So real so real. I, too, make a great dog impression. And I want to emphase the part that it helps greatly develop a sense of emotions and relationships! For Laios, he didn’t get along with kids his age, it was him, Falin and the dogs against the world. Since it’s a group of dogs too, it taught him group dynamics and social hierarchies (like with Falin being considered as being below the dogs in authority according to the dogs rip), and the importance of group coordination when hunting.

For me, I cannot like, concisely explain just how much animals were important to me developmentally. I also grew up with dogs, but like I vividly remember encounters with like hamsters as well just radically shaping my understanding of boundaries, the importance of giving something space and the way you interact with them and respect their side of it. Unlike humans they don’t really mask how they feel, it’s direct cause-effect reaction and data gathering. There are no words involved, so the focus on having a perfect phrasing and tone is gone, leaving just pure interactions. 

There’s also no reason to mask how you feel either, and you don’t have to feel silly over wanting to form a connection and it showing, what, is the dog gonna laugh at you because you obviously want to make friends with it? Toshiro or Kabru might, but dogs and cats will just tell you to fuck off and leave it there worst case scenario. I often say that I think one reason Marcille is special to Laios and he feels comfortable around her is because she emotes INTENSELY, she gestures, she puts her whole body into it, her facial expressions are pretty exaggerated and her ears even emote too- like with a dog’s ears!

I think there’s def also things to be said about how he gravitated towards Izutsumi at first, all excited, was eager to sleep in the same bed as her, but in the Izutsumi sleep rating chart we see they really just casual and chill so it’s not a Laios talking to Shuro deep into the night situation just a “I like sleeping besides animals” situation and that is enough to hype him up. I love how he pet her in the extra about why Chil let her sleep with him too. He’s just so transparently eager to befriend her, even if in the end they weren’t all that compatible and he accepted that.

There are honestly so many examples I could give for this. Like Grandin the famous cow lady.

More about autism & empathy:

https://www.spectrumnews.org/news/double-empathy-explained/ (Also mentions a study in which groups of autistic, allistic then a mixed group played a game of telephone and both singular groups had similar levels of information retention, but the mixed group was significantly worse. As an autistic person yeah duh, obviously autistic people are different from one another and can have plenty of interpersonal issues, but communicating with other neurodivergent people feels pretty intuitive and straightforward and comfortable. One of the reasons why neurodivergent people tend to naturally gravitate towards each other I suppose.) 

^ Paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5932358/  For good, extensive summary of why we relate to animals so much you can go to the “anthromorphizing and asd” section of the paper. This paper extends to our widespread liking of cartoons and robots as well. Ok so this is a whole thing I won’t get into here but this is a big reason why a lot of autistic people are agender leaning as well. Genders and queerness in general is a lot about social constructs, and being queer is being marginal to these, not fitting into boxes or challenging those social norms and conventions. Queerplatonic relationships are a great example of this, where the framework of the relationship is platonic but the intangible nature of what it is exactly is the point, not familial not anything but everything at once too, just adoration, I like to say having pets is a bit like it as well, bc obvi it’s not romantic and often not fully familial, very platonic but also sooo much cuddling and adoration and kissing and whatnot that you wouldn’t typically do with a friend or family member. I’ll talk about qpr and labels another day though.

I got carried away but queerness in Dunmeshi is something I 100% want to make a big post on one day. Experiencing the world with different guidelines and not registering things to have the same boxes, sigh. Personally I also relate to Laios on a gender level, “cis by default because I don’t care all that much but if I were to dig deeper I’m probably otherkin and I want to be socially associated with traits of monsters and animalistic rather than man/woman” sighh hard to be a cryptid in this day and age. I wish we had a term like furry but for monsters, I want to be in the fantasy or folk tale genre ty, like changelings. Goshh changelings... You know, the irl myth where people said their neurodivergent kids were fairies’ children instead of human. Diminished physical sense of self means I see myself as some unknowable black  void aesthetic wise, but like in a way that simultaneously makes me feel seen. Like becoming a monster, losing your sense of self but also somehow just being simplified and seen for what you are, it’s weird to try and explain. This post is more about relating to the nonhuman than about seeing yourself as such, but like connect the dots right, that IS an important point of Laios’ character. It’s because our brains literally work different than allistics which makes us feel as other, but also because of social ostracization and functioning in a different way than society at large, living in the margin of society, being weird and non-conforming.

Meanwhile, animals and social norms... Like ok, showing your neck and rolling on the ground to show that you’re friendly and harmless and play biting might not be proper. But have you considered that it’s also fun and feels very intuitive. Play with a dog in the dog’s way I promise it is so nice and freeing. Play tug of war and growl back when they growl. Hiss at your cat to tell them they do something wrong, engage with them on their level.

Autism made social life hard, but it made animals easy. Do you have anyyy idea how good it feels to mask all day every day and feel constantly misunderstood or like you’re doing a performance but then you can just, drop all of that in the company of animals and they understand you. They understand you. You form an understanding and rapport so easily.

And this whole thing with Laios is so explicit too, with the Winged Lion saying “You’re sick and tired of the human world”. Notice the choice of words. Sick and tired of the human world. Exhausted from the constraints, sick of the mind games. It really isn’t as much about loving monsters as it is about loving the nonhuman. Relating to them because you feel that you can actually understand how they work and think, and feeling like they could understand you back as well. Animals are safe.

Like I could go on about how Laios admiring even just demi-humans like orcs is because they’re socially seen as non-humans more than any true physical thing, that they’re not bound by human society and its rules and live with their own lifestyle. But it would deal myself 1000 points of psychic damage and I am not ready to cry today. It’s idealization 100%, and like, Laios DOES want to be treated as human, to be valued, but it feels like an unreachable thing meanwhile becoming a monster is instant gratification and freedom and a sense that now no one will be able to hurt you in a way that reaches you, never again shall you be defenseless, and then if people dehumanize you then that only strengthens your sense of identity as a monster and UGHH ugh ugh.

And like. This post is a mess at this point but if you want to kinda delve into the more “why” then I recommend this Patricia Taxxon video essay. It starts out on a very different topic, but it’s all about autism and finding comfort in the inhuman. Long story short is othering made us like this also animals are just simpler to intuitively get along with.

So when I post this

I mean it. I really mean it when I say he’s me. I have never felt so seen. So many conflicting emotions all wrapped so concisely yet so intangibly woven into the whole storyline so subtly. 

Not being depicted as a monster of an human being for feeling/having felt that way?? The manga understands you. The world can understand you. Other humans can understand you. You can bond with them. You can. And I think that’s a big part of Dungeon Meshi too- Laios opening up to others about how he really is and his interests, and all the bumps on the way but how it was the only way to truly get to know each other and bond. With the climax being Laios confronting head on his complex with monsters and humans, and his monster-loving side and animalistic side being exactly what saves the whole world, what saves humanity. Because Laios does value his friends, does think humanity has beautiful sides to it, he wants to help it thrive and eat and become more accepting, carving out a kingdom for misfits and demi-humans. At the end of it, transforming into a monster and being free is a daydream fantasy, and the reality of it is that Laios does belong in the world as he is, and does receive and give out love.

If you enjoyed this you’ll probably like some of my other Laios analysis!  Here’s an analysis of his succubus and what it says about his relationships with other humans. And here’s an analysis about his relationship with Shuro from his perspective.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Adventure Time new episodes

This is for "Destiny" and "Winter King". I am not making a big analysis, honestly I have no idea where the miniseries is heading, but here are a couple of points I want to make.

So, to start us off, this is obviously Snake on a Nokia phone... the controls for this thing were absolute garbage but it did the job. Is the snake eating little bunnies????

It's interesting that designer bags are the same in both worlds, but that makes sense because this is just another future version of a world Simon lived in.

When I first saw Jay, I assumed he was Finn's baby brother from the Farmworld universe - wouldn't the baby brother be about the correct age??? - but he's actually Finn's son!

Jay and Bonnie are a reference to the episode Puhoy! Their mother was most likely Roselinen. Our Finn had specific reasons for naming them Jay (Jake) and Bonnie (PB). Farmworld Finn named them that too but unless he knew a farmworld PB it's more of a reference than anything else.

Also... against all reason, Farmworld Jake is still alive! Barely!

Finn had a LOT OF KIDS and also his wife his dead. Damn, even in this world. Most of his kids have his or Rosalinen's hair colour but the boy on the right looks a lot like Hunter from the first episode.

Take that as you will...

Like in the original S5 episodes there are farmworld versions of some characters like Choose Goose, Starchy, and Wildberry Princess. So there was probably farmworld versions of most of his friends. We already saw what happened to this version's Simon and Marcy, who both died brutally.

The crown is in the giant crater because it was evaporated by the goddamn nuke. Incredible that any part of it survived, really.

The rest of this episode speaks for itself. It was a fun look at an alternate universe where Finn lived a very different life. His personality here is nothing like our Finn who is a lot more adventurous. Farmworld has taken its toll on our boy.

Onto Winter King...

This penguin boy doesn't seem to be 100% ice. It's possible that his beak was stuck on like a snowman, but it's also possible this is a transformed version of Gunther.

This Ice King's history is very similar to our Ice King's. Most changes were 100 years ago when he transferred the twisted madness to PB.

Can someone explain to me why there is a naked chicken here???? I do not like this at all

I checked out two designs that I thought this place might be referencing. It doesn't look like either but, eh.

Below is Candy Kingdom concept art from 2008.

Below is Candy island from Flapjack!

And below, ironically the most similar looking, is Candy Island from Bob's Burgers.

Some interesting things about this alternate Simon...

This young Marceline with the axe has implications for why this Simon might've turned "evil". Marceline either ran away from him after what he did to PB, or she died at some stage. He made an "Ice Marcy" to replace her.... Young and adorable, just she was when he was Simon. This seems to be his method for dealing with any problems.

His science in this room was interesting... it reminded me of Princess Bubblegum's technology, or the stuff that Simon and Betty were able to make when combining science and magic in the land of Ooo. Honestly I don't feel that he'd have been successful in duplicating the crown, but he was immediately willing to try.

The reason Simon doesn't remember Betty as his great love is because this was an important part of his madness. When he transferred his madness to PB, he also transferred his obsession with Betty.

This is why Candy Queen is so obsessed with kidnapping Ice King and Simon, it's the exact reason why Ice King used to kidnap her!

Also, 10 out of 10 to Hynden Walch in this episode. I was convinced there was a different voice actress for Candy Queen, but upon checking the credits, it really is her. You can recognise her singing well too.

This version of PB has a lot more mastery over her candy elemental magic. It's probably a result of being possessed by the Crown's madness for so a hundred years. You see her doing all sorts of crazy stuff as Candy Queen, though in that state her abilities are a lot more like Ice King's than they are like the insane PB from the Elements miniseries.

It's really funny that PB is like "I'm trying not to dwell on it" about the hundred years thing. AT is very casual like that. Though she's gonna be very sad when she realises Fionna and Cake ripped the faces off most of her candy people. Brutal scene.

And it's funny how she kissed Fionna. She just does that with all her knights. I wonder if there is a Finn in this universe? Ice Prince seemed to expect the Ice girls to save him...

I found it sweet that Ice King really wanted to save someone else he saw as being possessed by madness. It was entirely possible that CQ was just "like that", but he was right on the money, and it shows how he contrasts to his alternate self, who is actively benefitting from this situation even if he gets regularly kidnapped. And it's not like Fionna is doing anything that Finn didn't do to Ice King!

This scene was brutal. Funnily enough I watched Infinity Train book 3 with Kim last night, this reminds me of the moment THAT Simon-- Oh my God, does this always happen to characters named Simon?

Fionna removed the magic from the crown, so Simon aged rapidly, just like in the episode "Betty". Though this time it happened instantaneously rather than across 11 minutes.

I think this is the part where Fionna realises her rampage across the multiverse is genuinely hurting people.

It was VERY CUTE watching Gary Prince (holy shit that name) show off his little Candy Kingdom. There's a lot of elements of PB there, and it parallels how ultimately the Candy Kingdom was PB's own version of the cake - she made all these characters and made little stories for them, which we know from the show was her way of dealing with the world.

What was REMARKABLY FUCKED UP was the shots to Fionna murdering possessed versions of these beloved characters. I mean... they're PROBABLY all still alive, but they are very fucked up now.

I also enjoy how the Lemoncarbs - Tree Trunks calls them that!! - are both here and alive, and superior to Gary lol. And I think Jinx Monsoon's voice acting here fits a lot better than in episode 4 where they tried to do a straight imitation of Lemongrab.

I haven't said much about these two but you can see how they contrast - Marshall just Does things, while Gary procrastinates constantly. And Marshall's behaviour can seem reckless but Gary would've never taken that big step forward without his help. It's funny how Marshall can just call his mother to summon the Lemoncarbs in the middle of the night, and sweet how he'd do that to help Gary.

Then he listens to the autistic boy gush about his characters. Awww.

This world here is obviously a joke about the elusive Adventure Time Babies show that Muto was terrified he'd be asked to make. Hell it's possible he pitched this show to CN once or twice. But Baby Looney Tunes and Tiny Titans are both famous spinoffs of this ilk, and Craig of the Creek got a spinoff about Craig's baby sister.

Simon is still determined to become Ice King again but he wants to "do it right". I still think he's HORRIBLY MISGUIDED but he is starting to realise that, maybe, he is the best version of himself. He could've been a huge ding dong like Ice Prince.

Also Chan is going to be so sad if that's the only time we see Young Finn and Jake.

[pochiperpe90]

[ENG] PARDO - Interview with Luca Marinelli

“Luca Marinelli is a true phenomenon!” This is how Paolo Virzì, who directed him in Tutti i santi giorni in 2012, defined the actor a few years ago. He was absolutely right. Throwing himself body and soul into each of his roles, Luca Marinelli does not limit himself to playing a part, but manages to transform himself completely, creating intense, charismatic, unique characters. From the young introverted mathematician in La solitudine dei numeri primi (2010) by Saverio Costanzo, to Roberta in L’ultimo terrestre (2011) by Gipi; from the criminal in Non essere cattivo (2015) by Claudio Caligari to the cult character of the Zingaro in Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot (2015) by Gabriele Mainetti; from the proletarian intellectual in Martin Eden (2019) by Pietro Marcello, to the King of Terror in Diabolik (2021) by Manetti Bros; from Nicky, the immortal warrior, in The Old Guard (2020) by Gina Prince-Bythewood, to Pietro, a fervent mountain enthusiast in Le otto montagne (2022) by Felix Van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch; Luca Marinelli has been able to give life, thanks to his prodigious versatility, to an extraordinary range of characters who all bear the unmistakable sign of his talent.

Maria Giovanna Vagenas: In your current career as an actor there are two important works coming out soon: the television series M. Son of the Century by Joe Wright and The Old Guard 2, by Victoria Mahoney. While waiting to be able to see them, I would like to start by addressing a perhaps less well-known but equally essential side of your work: your debut as a theater director in 2023 with Kafka's Una relazione per un’accademia, for the Festival dei Due Mondi of Spoleto. How did this project, on which you collaborated with the German actor Fabian Jung, come about?

Luca Marinelli: The first idea for this project dates back to ten years ago when I saw Fabian at his graduation performance at the Ernst Busch Academy of Dramatic Art in Berlin. I found it extraordinary, and on that occasion I had already told him: "In my opinion you should recite this text!" Then there was a ten year gap. Towards the end of the pandemic, I proposed to him that we work together on Una relazione per un’accademia. At the beginning we had to be both on stage a bit, later I understood that it would have been more sensible to mount this piece with just one actor and I asked him if he would like to be directed by me.

MGV: What was your approach as a director? 

LM: At the beginning of this project I was more of a kind of acting coach - Fabian acts in Italian, even though he doesn't speak it - then I began to understand what it meant to be a director, to take responsibility for everything the public will come to see, to make many decisions and to take care of an entire team. In this context, the exchange of ideas with Fabiana Piccioli, who deals with the light design of the show, was essential: the theatrical piece is in fact a kind of dialogue between the actor and the light, the space and the audience. Being a theater director is also a question of trust. In the cinema the director is very present until the end of the production process, but in the theater you get up to a certain point and then that's it, because the real work, evening after evening, falls to the actors and technicians, that is, to those who are in the scene and around it. The director is no longer part of the performance, he’s almost the first spectator of his own work. It was a very beautiful experience for me, because being "outside", that is, not being on the scene but in front of it, is truly something completely different! In February-March 2025, we will take this show on tour around Italy.

MGV: Do you plan to continue along this path in the future? Is it an experience that has opened up new perspectives for you?

LM: It's a road I'd like to explore, that of theater. I would like to return to the stage as an actor-director, a bit like a master, let's say. I feel that theater is much more accessible to me, while I know very little about the technical side of cinema and for which I have great respect, so for now I don't feel like it.

MGV: You come from a family close to the world of entertainment. It seems that as a kid you watched a lot of movies with your grandmother. I would be curious to know how your desire to become an actor was born in this context. 

LM: My father is first and foremost an actor who is also dedicated to dubbing and my grandmother, as you said - a great cinephile. I owe a lot to every member of my family, whether they work in the arts or not. However, I cannot tell you where this desire comes from, each of us has a drive within us, and is attracted by something. Indeed, I grew up watching many films and, thanks to my father, I happened to know this work in various forms. But when you are very young it is difficult to say: I want to do this! I felt very attracted by the world of theater and cinema, by the idea of ​​expressing myself in a way that went beyond words, which approached images, sounds, the body. I wasn't fully aware of it from the beginning, but now I feel that it's exactly this: I love observing an interpreter's body, listening to their voice. I love seeing a group working together and I love teamwork. The profession of actor contained within itself a bit of everything that nourished my curiosity. This desire has been growing more and more. My family has always been very supportive and has never hindered me in anything. Rather, I was the one who hindered myself, until, at a certain moment, I gave myself permission to approach this profession and entered the Silvio D'Amico National Academy of Dramatic Art. They were three wonderful years during which I gave free rein to all my curiosity and desire for expression. The relationship with my class was fundamental and magical. From there, little by little, I moved forward. Almost immediately, cinema arrived with Saverio Costanzo who hired me for La solitudine dei numeri primi together with Alba Rohrwacher. I auditioned while I was still at the Academy and was acting in the final recital Dream of a Summer Night directed by Carlo Cecchi. I finished the Academy and immediately went on set for the first time.

MGV: You found Carlo Cecchi again as an actor on the set of Martin Eden (2019) by Pietro Marcello many years later. 

LM: Of course, and it was wonderful to meet again! I consider Carlo my teacher, he is the first who truly made me understand the importance and urgency of this profession. 2012 was the last time I was on the boards of a stage and was with him. Carlo Cecchi had become very fond of us all and with this graduation essay he managed to take us on tour. Basically we did two theater seasons from 2010 until February 2012.

MGV: Are there other directors, among all those you have collaborated with, that you consider to be your teachers?

LM: I met some great directors during my journey, each had their own vision of art, so it's as if I had many different teachers along a single professional journey. I would practically name them all, but I would also name the actors I simply observed in films.

MGV: Between the actors who inspired and influenced you, who would you quote?

LM: For the sake of equality, I only mention the actors of the past. There are many who have struck me but I always evoke Anna Magnani, Silvana Mangano, Marlon Brando and Massimo Troisi. These are the first huge names that come to mind. When I 'met' them on the screen I immediately realized I was faced with something unique and great. I like to mention these four names also because they belong to a moment in my life in which I still didn't know what I would do, but I was drawn towards them.

MGV: Non essere cattivo (2015) was Claudio Caligari's last, poignant and wonderful film, released posthumously. What are your memories of him?

LM: Claudio Caligari was a gigantic meeting for me, from him I learned how important expression and communication, sharing and respect are. I understood how much this profession is life and how much life can be put into it. I witnessed enormous courage and a great knowledge of filmmaking. I also learned the dedication and immense respect that one must have for the public, for what is proposed, for how one interacts with those who come to see a film, without ever putting oneself on a pedestal but being all together. Caligari taught me to never judge myself, nor others, nor the stories one tells nor the characters one plays but that one must stay with them, inhabit them. These are the few things, fundamental for me, that come to mind. Beyond this, every single memory is a source of inspiration and guidance for me. And then the certainty that love and passion are the only things that really keep us here and now, alive.

MGV: In 2019 you played the complex character of Martin Eden in the film of the same name directed by Pietro Marcello, and you won the Volpi Cup at the Venice Film Festival. What did this role mean to you? And what was it like working with Pietro Marcello? 

LM: The collaboration with Pietro arose from a secular prayer which has been fulfilled over the years. I was a great observer of his work and his art and finally being able to work together was a great gift, a true exchange based on trust. We all found ourselves in a moment of grace, in a state that allowed us to work with great concentration and dedication together. As for the role, I think Martin Eden is one of the most beautiful male characters of the last century, in one of the most powerful novels ever written. I owe a lot to this character, not only a very prestigious award, but also important artistic and personal growth.

MGV: You have played an extremely wide range of roles, spanning from one film genre to another. Beyond your exuberant talent and the extreme versatility of your performances, what is striking about your acting is the generosity with which you embrace each character, offering your all. How do you prepare your roles? 

LM: It's like a kind of love at first sight; I fall in love with the story, with the character and from that moment on I begin to see everything in that direction. It is an almost routine behavior that I have never schematised. If someone were to ask me, "How do you approach a character?" I would answer that I have no idea, but every time I do it more or less in the same way. There is certainly a certain affinity with the director and an involvement in the script and the character. Little by little I'm starting to eat all the information I can find. I am often offered films to watch, and then I discuss them with the director. I love working with imagination and thinking about every element of the character. I like being with the costume designer, working on the costume and then creating the look of my character with makeup and hair. I'm very happy when I can have my say too. As I said before, I fall in love with the character and I begin to see everything in that light. My wife always tells me: "You've already started!" I don't notice but she does! "You've already started!" it means that everything has started to take on that colour, but I don't do it on purpose, I believe that there is a more intelligent, unconscious part inside me that organizes my work. It's a bit like this!

MGV: A few years ago Paolo Virzì, who directed you in Tutti i santi giorni, said of you: "Luca is a phenomenon, he's intelligent, witty, but at the same time he's crazy, he becomes what he's doing. All the great actors have a kind of lack, a defect, they know who they are and therefore they are enthusiastic about becoming the one who proposes to them!" What do you think? 

LM: I agree with him, all this is said with deep love and therefore I accept everything he says about me. I love Paolo so much and I think he understood me more than I understood myself. In fact I think none of us really have a clear focus on who we are and what we can be. Of course this is an interview from a few years ago, perhaps now I know slightly more - but only slightly [laughs] - who I am because I am closing, so to speak, the first act of my life, given that this year I will be turning 40!

MGV: Being an actor is a collective profession. Over the course of your career, a very significant bond has been created between you and Alessandro Borghi, with whom you collaborated for the first time in Non essere cattivo and who you met again on the set of Le otto montagne of Felix Van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch, Jury Prize at Cannes. Could you tell me about your working relationship and your friendship?

LM: I'll start from the beginning of what you said; for me this isn’t a job we do by ourselves. This art doesn’t exist without the other. Even a monologue is not done alone but with the audience. Acting is always a way of expressing oneself and communicating. I adore, as I said before, teamwork, over the years I have happened to work with many wonderful colleagues who have become important friends and then there was this magnificent meeting with Alessandro during Non essere cattivo, a film that carries within itself something sacred due to how it was approached, and due to the strength of the great Claudio Caligari who created it. The two of us found ourselves actors in this extraordinary work which united us so much, creating a deep bond between us which at that moment was needed, let's say, for the film but which the film then gave us for life. Since then this friendship has continued and gone forward, without interruption. After Non essere cattivo for six years we were no longer able to work together, then suddenly another wonderful film arrived, full of love: Le otto montagne and thanks to two fantastic directors, Felix and Charlotte, we managed to make this friendship coincide again on the screen too. Alessandro and I are good together. At work, to put it in a football metaphor, for me it's like I always know where the other guy is so I can make a cross almost with my eyes closed because I know he gets the ball, stops it and shoots it towards goal! We have great chemistry and on set, we don't need to worry too much. I hope we can work together again soon. I happened to see an interview where we said that we promised ourselves not to wait another seven years to do it, but now it's been almost three years already so we have to hurry!

MGV: For a few years now you have also started an important international career by participating in important productions such as The Old Guard by Gina Prince-Bythewood with Charlize Theron which was a huge success on Netflix, the series Trust (2018) by Danny Boyle, written by Simon Beaufoy and starring, among others, Donald Sutherland, and a production for German television: Die Pfeiler der Macht (A Dangerous Fortune, 2016), by Christian Schwochow. How did you experience dealing with all these new production realities?

LM: In every latitude there is a slightly different type of approach but essentially the work is always the same. The thing that always excites me is that, ultimately, we all find ourselves in the common language of acting, of art. I was lucky enough to work with some wonderful international casts, not only every single actor but also the technical departments and directors were wonderful people. Ultimately, the place changes geographically, but the work remains the same.

MGV: As a member of the Jury of the International Competition, what will your evaluation criteria be?

LM: I was just looking at the list of films in competition and judging by the images that accompany them I already like them all, so maybe I'm off to a bad start! [laughs] I don't actually have any specific parameters. I certainly won't judge only the performers, but I will look at the film as a whole. However, for me it is essential to start from the assumption of great respect for the film itself, because every film is a work that requires great efforts from many people and for this reason must be evaluated with consideration. Having said that, I would like to have a good dialogue with the film, an intelligent dialogue on an intellectual and emotional level. In short, I hope that a film leaves me with a thought, a sensation, an emotion.

As usual, sorry for any mistake and my English

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants Harry Hook x Reader: Love Takes Center Stage

Request: I would love a behind the scenes kinda imagine for Harry x reader but really thomas x reader

Reader: Female

Word count: 1759

Average reading time: 6 min 25 sec

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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The lights on set shined brightly, casting a golden hue over the entire area as the crew prepared for another day of filming Descendants 3. The atmosphere was electric, buzzing with the excitement and chaos typical of a major film production. Cameras were being adjusted, lights were repositioned, and makeup artists were applying final touches to the actors. Amid this organized frenzy, Y/N stood in front of a large vanity mirror, adjusting her costume, a shimmering pink dress that perfectly fit her character, C/n, the younger sister of Audrey. The dress glittered under the lights, each sequin catching the golden rays and reflecting them in a dazzling display. It was a breathtaking piece, designed to captivate, just like her character.

Y/N’s heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement. This was her first major role, and the importance of the moment was not lost on her. She couldn’t wait to dive into her character and the storyline, bringing C/n to life on the screen. Her hands were slightly shaky as she smoothed down the fabric of her dress, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

“Y/N, ready for your scene?” the director called out, his voice cutting through the noise of the set.

Taking a final deep breath, Y/N nodded, her reflection in the mirror showing a determined and focused young woman. She walked over to her mark, feeling the eyes of the crew on her. Her character, C/n, was supposed to fall in love with Harry Hook, played by the ever so charming Thomas Doherty. As she took her place, she glanced over at Thomas, who was already in character, twirling his hook with a mischievous grin.

“Ah, there she is.” he drawled in his thick Scottish accent, eyes glinting with amusement. “Ready to be charmed, lass?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be, Harry.” she replied, trying to channel C/n’s mix of confidence and vulnerability.

The scene began, and Y/N’s character, C/n, and Harry exchanged playful banter. Harry was relentless in his teasing, calling her “lass” with that signature smirk of his, making her character blush and stammer. Y/N threw herself into the role, her heart pounding as she matched Thomas’s energy. Their chemistry was undeniable, and the scene sparks with tension and flirtation.

Off-screen, it was a different story. During breaks, the dynamic between Y/N and Thomas shifted from their characters' playful antagonism to a genuine connection. Thomas, ever the gentleman, never missed a chance to make Y/N feel special. He would saunter over, his smile warm and inviting, his eyes filled with a kindness that contrasted with Harry Hook’s roguish charm.

“How’s my favorite princess doing?” he’d ask, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down her spine.

“Just trying to keep up with you, Thomas.” Y/N replied, feeling her cheeks heat up under his intense gaze.

“You’re doing more than just keeping up, love.” he murmured, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “You’re stealing the show.”

Y/N laughed, trying to play it cool, but Thomas’s intense gaze made her heart race. He had a way of making her feel like she was the only girl in the room, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying. His presence was magnetic, and she found herself drawn to him both on and off set.

Between takes, they would sit together, sharing stories and jokes, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the bustling set. Thomas was a natural storyteller, his animated expressions and playful gestures keeping her entertained and captivated. He spoke about his home in Scotland, his love for acting, and his dreams for the future. In return, Y/N opened up about her own journey, her aspirations, and the challenges she had faced to get to this point.

Their conversations flowed effortlessly, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing moment. Y/N found herself looking forward to their scenes together, not just for the thrill of performing but for the chance to spend more time with Thomas. He had a way of making her feel at ease, his confidence and charm boosting her own.

During lunch breaks, Thomas would sit beside Y/N, making her laugh with his witty jokes and stories. He had a way of making even the most dull stories sound hilarious and captivating. Today was no different.

"You won't believe what happened this morning." Thomas said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he sat down next to her.

Y/N looked up from her sandwich, intrigued. "Oh, do tell. You always have the best stories."

Thomas grinned. "So, I was in the makeup trailer, right? And the makeup artist had this giant jar of glitter. I mean, we're talking enough to cover an entire parade float."

Y/N laughed. "Oh no, what did you do?"

"I may or may not have accidentally-on-purpose knocked it over." Thomas said, winking. "Let's just say, the whole place looked like a unicorn exploded. And poor Jeff, he was not amused."

She giggled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You're terrible, Thomas. Poor Jeff indeed."

Thomas leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against hers. "What can I say? I like to keep things interesting." He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The small gesture made her heart race.

-----

One evening, after a long day of shooting, Thomas found Y/N sitting alone, reading her script. The set was quiet, the crew having wrapped up for the day. He approached her quietly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Mind some company, princess?" he asked softly.

Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat at the endearing nickname. "Not at all," she replied, smiling.

Thomas sat beside her, his presence warm and comforting. "You know, Y/N, you’ve got this incredible spark." he said, his voice sincere. "Both on and off screen. It’s impossible not to be captivated by you."

She blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Thank you, Thomas. That means a lot coming from you."

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "I mean it, love. You’re not just charming Harry Hook. You’ve completely enchanted me as well."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. "Thomas, I..."

He leaned in, his lips brushing gently against hers in a tender, sweet kiss. It was soft, yet filled with a promise of more, leaving Y/N’s mind spinning and her heart pounding.

When he pulled back, he smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you, princess."

She smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "I'm glad you did."

From that moment on, Thomas made it his mission to win her heart completely. He’d surprise her with little notes and flowers, each one more thoughtful than the last. One morning, she found a single rose on her chair with a note that read, "Thinking of my beauty, always. - T."

Later that day, during a break, Thomas approached her with a playful grin. "Did you like your surprise?"

Y/N held up the note, her smile wide. "It was perfect. Thank you."

Thomas chuckled, leaning against the wall. "Just wait. I've got plenty more up my sleeve."

His flirty comments were always accompanied by that charming smile, the one that made her heart flutter. He was relentless in his pursuit, but in the most delightful way. Each day, Y/N found herself looking forward to their moments together more and more, feeling the walls around her heart crumble piece by piece.

And as they continued filming, their on-screen chemistry only grew stronger, reflecting the blossoming romance off-screen. Each scene they shared filled with an energy that had everyone on set buzzing. The crew often voiced their opinions on how their performances felt so real, not realizing just how true that was.

During a particularly intense scene, Thomas couldn't help but sneak in a real kiss, catching Y/N off guard but making the moment even more genuine. When the director yells cut, he pulls her close, his forehead resting against hers. "Couldn't resist." he whispered, his breath warm against her lips.

Y/N blushed, unable to hide her smile. "I noticed." she teased.

By the time the movie wrapped up, Y/N knew she had found something truly special with Thomas. Their days were filled with laughter, stolen glances, and sweet moments that made her heart race. 

After their final shoot, Thomas found Y/N in her trailer, packing up her things. Without a word, he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "You know, I'm going to miss this." he murmured, his lips brushing the nape of her neck.

She leaned back into him, closing her eyes. "Miss what?"

"Being on set with you, watching you work your magic." he said softly, kissing just behind her ear, making her shiver. "But mostly, I'll miss having an excuse to see you every day."

Y/N turned in his arms, looking up at him with a smile. "Who says we need an excuse?"

Thomas grinned, lifting her effortlessly into his arms, carrying her bridal style. "Exactly what I was thinking." he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Thomas! Put me down," she laughed, playfully hitting his shoulder.

"Not a chance," he replied, spinning her around. "This is way too much fun."

They both laughed, the sound echoing through the trailer. When he finally set her down, he kept his arms around her, his expression turning serious. "Y/N, I've been thinking... Now that the movie is over, maybe we could go on another adventure. Just you and me."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. "You mean it?"

"Absolutely." Thomas said, taking her hand in his. "Ready for our next adventure, love?"

"Always." Y/N replied, smiling up at him, her eyes shining with happiness.

As they walked away hand-in-hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like she was living a fairy tale. Thomas stopped abruptly, turning to face her. "One more thing." he said, his tone teasing.

"What?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

He leaned in close, his lips hovering just above hers. "I love you." he whispered before capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, sealing his words with a promise.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N looked up at him, breathless and beaming. "I love you too, Thomas."

With Thomas by her side, she knew it was only the beginning of their happily ever after. As they walked away, hand in hand, Y/N felt a sense of contentment wash over her. She had found her prince, and their story was just beginning.

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Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: herstoryheaven@gmail.com.

Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.

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Requested by: Anonymous

[hildegardladyofbones]

I think the reason why I almost cried over the boy and the heron's animation is because it's hand drawn in a world full of 3d animation that tries to impress you at every stage.

(Minor spoilers for the boy and the heron, no plot points tho)

Encanto's animation was impressive for the first few minutes, then it looked every other animates movie from the 2020s. The boy and the heron does a lot less than western (and 3d) animated movies for most of the movie (excluding the backgrounds because those were paintings. Like, actual paintings.) But when it needs to, it can do more than you thought possible. They clearly spent more time on making the movements human than making it colourful and flashy.

This subtlety is also extended into the character designs. In anime especially, but to some extent pixar as well, they make regular people look like humans have sexual dimorphism, but I couldn’t tell what gender Kiriko was supposed to be until she started to speak and until my suspicions were confirmed that the clothes she wore were in fact the same ones she wore in the other world. I am also a big fan of old wrinkly people so I'm glad they were once again present in a ghibli film. I think they have a knack for portraying people from different stages of life realistically. Also a big fan of how Mahito had so much personality, especially for a 12 yo protagonist of an adventure movie. Those tweens are usually given the cookie cutter hero personality, but robbed of actual humanity.

[rtc-graphic-novel]

welcome to the graphic novelization of ride the cyclone

have you ever wondered what ride the cyclone would look like as a graphic novel? well, so have i. after about a year, i’ve finally decided to at least try to pursue this project. however, i don’t want this graphic novel to be something that only i want to see. therefore, I’m going to set up various polls from time to time to see what you would like to see. this will be a collaboration between me and anyone who answers the polls.

the current timeline for this project consists of a few stages, which will be listed below:

picking the “cast”. for each character, i will be making a poll of as many different actors/actresses that have portrayed the character. whoever wins the poll will be the inspiration for both the characters design and personality.

character sheets. i will be posting character sheets with basic information on each character after the poll is finished, so feel free to send in your hcs/characterizations of the characters

designing the main “set”. much like the characters, i will be making a poll of as many different sets of rtc that i can think of. whichever set wins will be the primary inspiration for the actual setting

writing the script of the graphic novel. while i will likely be sticking very close to the script of the show, i will be making polls on adding scenes, different choreographies, and much much more

creating a model of the main “set”. this will be worked on in tandem with four, however, will likely not be posted/as featured. i will however be posting progress shots along the way.

making the comic. this likely will be the slowest part of the project, but will ideally have the most content posted/created. i also will (hopefully) be making fanart during this project so that way there is still content to be consumed. the posting of pages/chapters will be voted upon in a poll when we are closer to this part of the project

about the author-

hello, i’m aster! (main- @forecast-disaster)

i primarily use they/them pronouns, but don’t really care what pronouns people use for me

please keep in mind that this is going to be a very long term project and be patient with me. i firstly have a lot of work cut out for me, secondly have little experience in making comics, and thirdly have a life outside of my project, which means that i may not be as speedy quick as a pro webcomic artist

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Worst Day (part I) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 7434 words ao3

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother's restaurant. As an editor, you can't miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy.

A/N: I've started writing this story a looong time ago last year. There will be two more parts. I would like to thank @carmyboobear for being the most incredible beta and helping me out on the rocky journey. They're a very special person to me, and also a fantastic and inspiring writer themselves. Please, check their Carmy stories if you haven't!

THE WORST DAY

The first time you meet Carmen, you are both a little over twenty and in Copenhagen. He is staging at Noma, and you are interning at a design studio where everyone is very “green.” From one of your conversations with Carmen, you learn that Pop-Tarts and Cheetos are illegal here. In Europe. Most of the sodas that stained your tongue crazy colors when you were a kid are banned too. He lectures you on Scandinavian agriculture and food production.

Carmen is skinny and short—still a bit taller than you, though—with sharp, high cheekbones and bulging eyes. You don't know enough about each other to be “friends,” but he is a good companion. Your high school friend Becky knows Carmen’s older sister; that’s how you found each other in Denmark’s capital.

On two rare occasions, you get drunk together, and that happens only when he is stressed from work. Like, stressed STRESSED. You'd think he only drinks special natural wine from Lofoten or something, but his choice of poison is canned Budweiser. Maybe he misses home as much as you do. Maybe that’s what leads you to almost kiss him the second time. Carmen lives on a boat, and he takes you there, where you drink vodka mixed with herbs and licorice that Carmen concocts, his tongue peeking out between his lips as he concentrates. The drink tastes good. Weird. You don't hide your grimace. Neither of you comments on the alcohol ratio. It's more vodka than anything else, that's for sure.

Carmen is not your type, physically or character-wise—you are an introvert yourself, so you need someone to bring you out of your shell. Obviously, doing an internship on a different continent is a huge step, one that is only on you. He also smokes a lot and probably doesn't wash his hair. You've heard about his crazy mother and bonkers family from Becky, so you understand why Carmen is Carmen. Why he’s run off to Europe. It's just—his face—his eyes, when he's telling you about his dream job at Noma or Alchemist—they glow, and he becomes so animated, the quiet excitement seeping to the surface, and there's fondness blooming in your chest. He also knows a thing or two about sports, as you do, the subject bringing you back to Chicago, and the longing for “home” and “familiar” is terribly strong in the moment, enhanced by the alcohol. And Carmen, the boy sitting opposite you, with burns on his hands and ripped jeans, is both of those things put into one.

Nothing happens between you two, but the urge to press your own lips against his lingers after you leave in a taxi, not brave enough to ride a bike under the influence.

You try to stay in touch after Copenhagen, messaging Carmen on his empty Facebook profile, sending a text once in a while, mainly at Christmas, and when you have some terrible junk food, just to make fun of him. When he FaceTimes you, he’s in Paris, and you’re in Dublin. The next time, he’s in California.

He rarely ever answers messages on the phone. Usually, it's an emoji, sometimes a word or two. Soon, there are no answers, and you can't be bothered. You carry on with your life in Chicago, and it doesn’t take long before you start seeing Carmen Berzatto in the paper, on the internet. The young prodigy chef, everyone says. Reluctantly, you read the articles, thinking about the Copenhagen Carmen, smiling at his photos. He's grown up, filled out. His hair is curlier, his shoulders wider, his biceps stronger. He looks good. Good and sad, you think to yourself, and decide not to text him to congratulate him on his star career. Carmen is not one to care about what you think of it.

It's only when you hear from Becky that Mikey Berzatto has died, that you think of Carmen properly, after years full of work in the magazine office, one shitty almost-boyfriend, and summers spent in Europe, writing about sustainable travel and solo adventures. Becky says that he's inherited a restaurant from Michael. You decide against sending him condolences—too personal.

But about ten months later, there's whispering that a fancy restaurant, The Bear, is replacing The Beef of Chicagoland, and it's actually your boss who tells you that you should go check the place out.

You are not into that whole haute cuisine thing, to be honest. You never understood those tiny little portions and strange ingredients and their combinations. You prefer good pasta with Bolognese sauce or roasted chicken with mashed potatoes. Sometimes you wonder if Carmen's strange relationship with his family is what's keeping him away from his Italian roots and forcing him to work in pristine, starched whites in sterile kitchens, cooking intestines and antlers, making it art.

---

Becky gives you Natalie Berzatto’s phone number to get in touch with her to try to schedule an interview for the magazine feature. Your boss, Rob, hopes that Carmen could even make it to the cover soon when The Bear takes off. You’re not sure how you feel about bypassing Carmen completely and going straight to his sister.

So one Thursday, in early May, you decide to walk there, unannounced. You corner the building, passing a big glass window, and before you make it to the main entrance, you nearly collide with a very wonky wooden stepladder. With Carmen Berzatto on top of it, fiddling with a screwdriver or a similar tool, and a signboard.

The second you make contact with the ancient stepladder, Carmen shouts, "Fuck!"

“Sorry,” you yelp, and one glance at the man high up confirms that you are indeed dealing with the Chef himself.

“Could you watch out?” he says angrily as he makes his way down, measuring every step carefully.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, waiting anxiously for Carmen to—hopefully—recognize you. To anyone walking by, you must look like an idiot, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting motionless and stiff for a guy to climb down a ladder.

You don’t know what you had been expecting but definitely not Carmen staring at you with his huge, bloodshot eyes for seconds that feel like minutes. You nearly turn around and walk away, no joke.

He looks—

“You look—” you start. Terrible. But also, like, gorgeous. Terribly tired but hot. Is it awful of you to think that?

“Hi,” Carmen says, one hand going into the big mess of his hair, the other one into his pants pocket. He's avoiding your eyes, which makes you even more nervous, makes you think it was not such a great idea to come here.

“Hi!” you say, probably overly enthusiastically. “You're back in Chicago,” is the first thing you can think of.

He nods. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, congrats on the new place,” you say, gesturing to the building behind him, newspaper covering the windows. “I'm really sorry, I thought it was already open,” you explain, tugging on the hem of your lilac sweatshirt nervously. Can he tell you’re lying? “Becky mentioned something about it.”

“No, we’re opening next week,” Carmen says, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

“I'm really curious,” you smile carefully, testing the waters, wondering how he's going to react. You haven't seen each other in more than five years, and Carmen's never been exactly friendly. Not like mean, but definitely not easily approachable. “I work for this magazine, and we would love to do a feature on this,” you say, leaving out that it's you who would be writing it. Who wants to write it. Not only about the place but about Carmen, the enigma, the quiet boy, the excellent chef.

He only nods, clearly not sharing your enthusiasm. “Maybe later,” he taps the cigarette against the palm of his other hand. “When we're ready for this kind of thing.”

“Of course,” you agree quickly.

“Might be a while.”

“So what is the big plan?”

Carmen looks at you, measuring you. Like he thinks you have some ulterior motive. He lights up the cigarette, taking a long drag from it, and you fight not to scrunch your nose in disgust. The older you get, the more you hate the smell. Especially when someone is blowing out the smoke aimlessly—almost—in your face.

“My partner—Sydney, she’s hung up on the stars. So I guess a fine dining kinda place,” Carmen says, flicking the cigarette butt in the general direction of the gutter. The second sentence comes out more like a question than a statement, but you are still processing the first one.

“You run a business with your girlfriend?” you swear you don’t mean it to sound so accusing.

Carmen takes a step back, physically—bumping into the stepladder behind him—and mentally, too. “No! She—Sydney’s my business partner.” The defensive tone tells you exactly how your words sounded though. You wince. “We’ve been working on the new concept together with Nat, and the whole crew, actually. It’s—it’s a family business, I guess—uhm. We had only like three months to finish, and—”

You can see he’s really flustered. He’s starting to stutter, hand nervously scratching his neck. You hate the sight, hate that you’ve made him feel like this.

“I’m sorry!” you interrupt him. “It came out all wrong. I shouldn’t have said that,” you say urgently, hoping to see him relax back to his non-caring, nonchalant, tired-looking self. How could you mess up so quickly? Is that your special ability or a curse?

“‘s fine,” Carmen says, and he does relax a bit, shoulders dropping an inch. He doesn’t look friendly though. Or in the mood for a chat. “I just—she’s a business partner,” he repeats obstinately, face red.

The moment grows awkward. In your coat pocket, you touch a pack of chewing gum and start fiddling with it. “I—my office is nearby so I thought I could come around and see the progress,” you say into the void, trying not to cringe too much. “Maybe I would take a few colleagues for dinner.”

“The reservations aren't open yet,” Carmen says in a flat voice. You can’t call him out because it’s probably true anyway. Plus, you just lied again—the offices are not close; you had taken the L—and you feel bad about it.

There’s not much left to say, you realize. He’s not giving you any space to turn this “accidental” meeting into a proper conversation. You shuffle your feet nervously, feeling stupid.

“Alright. It was nice seeing you!” you say, as it’s about time to end this. “Hope everything’s gonna work out great!” you add in a cheerful tone, already setting to walk back to the station.

“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.” Carmen says back, lighting a second cigarette.

What a nightmare, you think as you walk through the busy streets.

—

In the following weeks, you almost forget about The Bear. Rob complains about the nonexistent article on the new, already hyped-up restaurant and wasted opportunities, but what can you do? The not-at-all-accidental meeting with Carmen had been a disaster you actively try to erase from your mind. Working on your regular column and material for the website keeps you busy. Then Becky calls out of nowhere, and you two arrange lunch at The Marq. You end up swapping hilarious stories from the last two months you hadn’t seen each other, and you secretly pray she doesn’t ask about Natalie Berzatto or her brother. You're out of luck, because she does—of course she does—and you have to lay the cards on the table.

“You did contact Nat first though?” is the first thing Becky asks.

“I didn’t,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to exclude Carmen right at the very beginning,” you admit.

“Oh god,” Becky rolls her eyes at you, taking a small bite of her salmon cake sandwich.

“I knooow,” you quickly stop her, feeling like ordering something stronger than the simple soda you’ve been drinking.

“I think you should still call Natalie,” Becky says, pointing at you with a determined frown. “I went to see her and her new baby just last week. She asked about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Apparently they could really use some help getting the word out about The Bear. A good excuse to talk Carmen into an interview maybe? An exclusive one?” She wiggles her eyebrows, knowing how cool it would be for you to come up with this.

“Maybe,” you muse, playing it cool. Inside, you are already hyped up about the possibility of scoring the first interview with the former best chef in the world. Is he still good at all? Why did he disappear? Why is he back?

—

The anxiety of the following days forces you to actually text Natalie. You’ve been checking online websites and Instagram accounts apprehensively, worried that a medium might publish something about The Bear before you get a chance. Rob isn’t a dick, but you wouldn’t want to look incompetent in his eyes. So far, you’ve been able to steer away from conversations about the new Carmen Berzatto restaurant at work. Your work ethic makes it difficult for you to let The Bear go without a fight.

That’s how you find yourself in front of Natalie’s door. When she opens it, she doesn’t hide her fervor.

“Oh, finally! Hi! Please come in.” She ushers you inside. You’ve never seen her in person, only on Becky’s Instagram, maybe, and even though the exhaustion is apparent on the woman’s face, you can spot the similarities with Carmen in her features right away.

From the dark hallway, she leads you to the sitting room. When you look around, it’s hard to find a clutter-free space. Every surface is covered with baby clothes, baby diapers, baby wipes—clean and dirty—bottles—full and empty.

“Sorry for the mess,” Natalie appears next to you, snatching away a baby muslin from the sofa. “Have a seat, please,” she nods. “The baby’s asleep. Hopefully for the next—” and she checks her watch, “another twenty minutes.”

As you sit down, Natalie collapses into an armchair, not minding what appears to be a pile of freshly washed newborn onesies and other clothes underneath her.

“Thank you so much for stopping by,” she says sincerely, and you notice the many stains on her purple t-shirt.

You smile. “No problem.”

“Becky said that you know stuff about Instagram and social media and marketing and all that?” Natalie’s eyes are wide and hopeful.

“I would say so,” you nod.

“I’m not sure what Becky mentioned already,” Natalie says as she starts pulling the baby clothes from under her and folding them absentmindedly. That definitely says something about the state she’s in, without Becky describing the situation to you—not only with The Bear but also Nat herself. “Carmy’s putting so much into the restaurant—we all are—so much hope,” she babbles, “none of us have slept properly in weeks—months! And now the baby...” Natalie’s gaze becomes unfocused for a moment before she blinks rapidly. “The timing’s not so great,” she forces out a weak laugh, and you smile again, already feeling bad for her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I understand. It’s hard,” you empathize, feeling genuinely bad—not for The Bear—but for Natalie.

“I’m not a marketing guru, but I can research things,” she carries on, more confident now. “But I can’t be there all the time, y’know? It’s just not possible. If—if someone could help with keeping the place afloat and spreading the word—” she stops talking and folding, looking directly at you. “That would be just so awesome,” she finishes quietly, her bottom lip wobbling.

You know that Nat’s not trying to emotionally blackmail you, even though the situation kinda feels like it, and you do feel for her.

“I can help, yes.”

“I’ll talk to Carm and Sydney, and we’ll figure out how much we can offer you!” The relief and excitement are apparent in the way Nat jumps up from the armchair.

“That’s alright, really,” you say calmly, putting a hand on her arm now that she’s closer. “We can discuss this later,” and you give her another encouraging smile.

The unmistakable sound of a baby crying comes from somewhere in the house. Poor Natalie freezes, her hand going to touch her chest. She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Thank you. Thank you,” and she takes a hold of your hand, squeezing it. “I’ll tell Sydney to get in touch with you—or you can actually just go to the restaurant; they know about you.”

That makes you slightly uncertain as you remember your first attempt at an unannounced visit to The Bear.

“Alright,” you nod with a polite smile. After all, you’re getting something out of this too.

—

Sydney texts you exactly 22 minutes after you leave worn-out Natalie and her baby behind and invites you to come to The Bear the next day. To make yourself appear more untouchable, you reply that the soonest you’re available is next Monday. Make them wait.

It gets you on edge, though, and more than once you think of Carmen in his tiny Copenhagen kitchen, how things used to be. How easy it is to grow apart. Not that you’d been friends exactly. Hard to be anything like that with a person as closed off as Carmen Berzatto.

On the agreed Monday, you dare to finish early at work and take the train to The Bear. Your stomach is in knots, even though you’ve been pretty brave about the whole thing. It’s just—you’re not sure how Carmen’s gonna react when he sees you, and you’re already thinking about the worst possible scenarios. Just stop! you tell yourself resolutely, forcing yourself to concentrate on the simple but well-thought-out marketing plan you prepared to present. Without being asked. If Carmen sees that you actually KNOW things, he might change his opinion about you. Not that you KNOW his opinion, but—maybe he would actually acknowledge you finally.

It’s just after the family meal when you arrive. A tall man who introduces himself as Richie lets you in instantly, and he’s clearly been informed about your arrivall. As soon as Sydney is notified of your presence, she rushes to you from the kitchen in the back, wiping her hands on her apron. You notice right away that she’s friendly and calm, and it relaxes your nerves. There’s no doubt she loves the restaurant and her job, and you see that she worries as much as Natalie does, or even more.

“We’re opening in two hours, so it’s a bit wild in the back, but maybe you wanna see the kitchen?” Sydney offers as she’s showing you around the newly restored restaurant, opening the heavy door. “A quick peek,” she adds as a loud cracking noise comes out of the exact door.

You’ve been to a couple of kitchens, and you must say that this one’s definitely on the chaotic side of the scale. People in white aprons run here and there, no one’s still, not even for a second. There’s a good amount of shouting and a huge amount of swearing. In the middle of everything, there’s Chef Carmen Berzatto. He looks like a character from Cartoon Network. His wild hair is sticking out in all directions, dark tattoos covering his arms and hands, face sweaty, eyes ready to pop out of his head. He’s shorter than most people you see circling the kitchen, but the loudest one. He shouts orders, and you notice the vein on the side of his neck—it sure is ready to burst. You wonder how far he is from having a heart attack.

“Or maybe next time,” Sydney mutters, gently pushing you out of the way and shutting the door again. She leads you to one of the brown wooden tables where you settle again.

“Is he always like that?” you ask Sydney, actually glad that you’re not in the room where the storm’s currently happening.

“Only when he’s stressed,” Sydney explains shortly, an apologetic smile on her lips.

When it comes to money, it’s obvious The Bear doesn’t have much to spare, that much is clear. Sydney is extremely apologetic and sweet about it.

“There’s a marketing budget—previously non-existent—that we’ve set aside and can offer. It’s just not much, I’m afraid,” she tells you, jittery.

You want to reassure her, to tell her that you're doing it for Carmen, for an old "friend." But from what you've gathered, Sydney doesn't even know that Carmen knows you.

So you just smile and reassure her anyway. "I'll put it on my resume. I can use more cases with social media for hospitality," you lie.

Nodding, Sydney clarifies, "Yes, just Instagram. Please. Carmy doesn't want to put anything in the press. Yet."

When a curious Richie joins you at the table, you present the Instagram plan to both of them. Even though Richie can't help making a few rather stupid remarks that only he finds funny, they both listen carefully. You see a lot of skepticism on Richie's face, probably because he doesn't understand some of the big words, you guess, but Sydney seems to be really into everything from pictures of the food and the weekly specials, to quick reels showing potential customers a little bit of behind-the-scenes action.

"Oh, I'm sure Cousin will be thrilled to have people sticking their noses into his business," Richie says, and you're not sure how serious he is. But Sydney shushes him, and you carry on, showing her the mock-up of the possible Instagram feed to set the mood for the profile.

For the next three weeks, you go to The Bear twice a week to gather some content—photos and videos. You talk to the crew and film those who are okay with it. Your presence is met with mixed emotions, but Sydney's gratitude and kindness make up for every suspicious glare and exasperated sigh when you find yourself in someone's way. Besides the restaurant, you take your neighbor's dog for a long walk every Saturday morning, call your mom and dad to check in, scroll Instagram instead of finally starting an actual book, and often wonder why Carmen is so hostile towards you.

Generally, you try not to hang out in the kitchen directly, especially not when Chef Carmen is present. Being uncomfortable in a new environment makes you positively anxious, causing you to go through a whole pack of your favorite cinnamon Simply Gums a day.

You also remember to always tie your hair up—not that the staff there wear hairnets or anything, but you don't want Carmen to find another reason to frown at you. He's been basically only frowning or ignoring you. Hard to tell which one is worse.

You always clean your hands super thoroughly, like during COVID, singing the "Happy Birthday" song to time it before daring to even stick your finger in the restaurant. Sydney offers you an apron to protect your work clothes, which you refuse. You sense from some people there that you're not entirely welcome.

But the more you avoid Carmen, the more likely you are to bump into him. You know Murphy's Law. So one morning, he just appears from around the corner, carrying a tray of mushrooms.

For a second, you're actually horrified that he's going to introduce himself. Before that can happen, you blurt out, "Uh—do you remember me? Copenhagen?"

Carmen stops and looks at you, wiping his wet hands on the towel attached to the string of his white apron. "Yeah," he confirms, "yeah, I do." He says your name, all soft and correct, along with your surname, and with his eyes fixed on you, you're frozen to the spot, affected whether you like it or not. Then he leaves to taste Tina's roasted peppers.

Obviously, your mind can't let the episode slip away. As you type copy for the upcoming Instagram posts, you pause every so often to cringe at how embarrassing you behaved. Of course, he remembers you, for fuck's sake! You're working in his restaurant—kinda.

"Hey! Copenhagen! You wanna see this?" Carmen yells a bit later from the other side of the kitchen, and you falter, deciding whether you're really going to answer to him calling you that.

You bite your tongue and trail hesitantly to the station where Carmen is with Tina and Ebraheim, gathered around a saucepan.

"Tina, chef, this is excellent. Well done," Carmen says to her as you approach, then turns to you.

"This is what we wanna share with the world. Perfect red pepper sauce. Simple but delicious."

"Okay," you respond, taking in the expectant way all three of them are looking at you. Like you're some kind of magician. Or a fraud.

"Just," Carmen adds before he sets off, "no recipes leave this kitchen," and he waits for you to confirm.

"Right."

Slowly, you start to question why you're helping The Bear. Is it because two years ago you thought of Carmen and what you might have felt for him? What could have been? More than the chef himself, you find yourself growing fond of the place and the employees—some of them! Seeing the Instagram followers number increase fills you with pride and satisfaction. Fuck Carmen.

---

Mornings are usually the only time when Carmen isn’t around, and you try to time your visits so your paths don’t cross.

Wanting to snap photos of the new tableware and make a quick, fun video reel, you head into the kitchen. There's no one around—Sweeps is probably hiding somewhere, and Sydney might be in the office. Not wanting to bother anyone, you set your always-heavy handbag on a chair and start looking for everything you need. There's no reason for you to feel like you're sneaking around, but you can't help feeling nervous. That’s when your clumsiness strikes, and you manage to knock over a glass of water. Rolling your eyes, you get on your hands and knees to wipe the spilled water with a rug that you hope is meant for cleaning, as you’re very aware of every item having its particular function here.

You straighten up and stretch to get one more plate from the shelf. Then you lose your footing on the still-wet tiles. Your foot slips, and the top plate falls to the countertop with a loud cracking noise. You react quickly, trying to break the fall, but there's no use. The plate shatters to pieces.

Of course, it’s Carmen himself who emerges from the door leading to the office, and you wince—both physically and mentally—preparing yourself for a very unpleasant collision.

“What’s going on?” he asks as he approaches you, eyebrows pinched. He’s not wearing his chef whites, just a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans.

“Sorry, I—” you start apologizing as Carmen stands next to you, assessing the damage.

“What—what’re you doing here?” he asks in a very flat voice, staring at the pieces of ceramic.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to tidy this and also pay for the plate, obviously,” you ramble, reaching down for the shards.

“Don’t,” Carmy barks, stopping you by grabbing your shaking hands in his. His hands are big, the tattoos making them look harsh and crude, even though the touch is gentle. “Don’t cut yourself,” he adds quietly, holding you until you relax your arms and then a second longer.

He must sense your nervousness. “It’s fine, I’ll get it,” Carmen assures you, catching your eye. “Hey,” he lays a soft hand on your arm, “step away, I’ll clean this.”

Nodding, you step back and wait patiently, disconcerted, watching as Carmen carefully handles and discards the shards, then checks the floor for any tiny fragments. He turns back to you.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Yeah.” And you’re more thrown off balance by having Carmen pay attention to you, all of a sudden, than by damaging the kitchen’s equipment.

He studies you for a moment, his face unreadable, and you’re the one to look away first. Which you hate, by the way.

“You wanna see some stuff I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you agree, taking a deep breath to relax further. “I’m sorry. The loud noise—” you wave your hand in the air vaguely, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Just scared the shit out of me, I guess,” you finish with an apologetic smile.

“You’re alright,” Carmen confirms and disappears for a bit. In the meantime, you have a small meltdown, shaking your head at yourself for being so, so very terribly lame. Luckily, before he returns with a tray of different dishes, you pull yourself together.

Carmen sets the tray down, revealing an array of colorful and sophisticated meals that instantly catch your curiosity.

“Any allergies?” he asks.

“Passion fruit—easily avoidable. Sometimes kiwi,” you list. “And grumpy chefs,” you add cheekily, feeling bold.

Carmen pauses. “I’m not grumpy. I’m focused.”

“You weren’t like this in Copenhagen,” you say softly, leaning a bit closer to him, your body language signaling that once you had been comfortable around each other.

“I’m more focused now,” Carmen retorts, stubborn and maybe a bit offended. “Back then I—uhm—I felt comfortable around you. It was easy.”

“And now?” you almost whisper.

But Carmen ignores the question, pushing the first bowl closer to you. “Here, taste this… or take a picture and then taste it.”

And you understand that the re-bonding is over.

---

Soon, you drop the habit of visiting the restaurant only in the mornings. One reason is that spending time with Carmen, talking to him or watching him cook and explain things, makes you late for work twice in a row. That usually never happens as you take pride in being on time at the office. You don’t work at The Bear for money, but you hardly think about it that way. When you decide to pop in during the morning, Carmen shares his deadly strong black coffee that he mills himself with you. It’s bitter but heavenly. Secretly, you like drinking it while chewing your favorite cinnamon gum, which somehow makes the taste even better—smoother and richer.

The second reason—you discover that Carmen is much calmer in the evenings after service. Less jittery, more relaxed. His blood flows slower, you think. His heart pumps with more ease. Sydney and he share thoughts and plans for the restaurant with you while you all sit at an empty table. It’s nice, you think, while watching Carmen’s hands play with a napkin. His hands are especially nice.

It’s Saturday and raining as you find yourself sitting in Gordon Ramsay's Burger. Nothing could’ve surprised you more than Carmen asking you to go out eat together. Had he felt bad for ignoring you at the beginning? You’re watching the rivers of raindrops on the big glass window, waiting for Carmen. As usual, you’re ten minutes early, and after you order a Life’s a Beach, the first thing on your mind is you're just early, he didn't stand you up, and then: this is not a date, babe! Which instantly startles you into sitting up straight and looking around, as if someone could see your embarrassing thoughts. Why are you even thinking about this?? Then Carmen arrives, wet patches on his shoulders and jeans that cling to his thighs. He chooses the Chicago hot dog and three different burgers with a bunch of sides. While he only nibbles on them and writes down notes on his phone, you feel bad for wasting the food and eat more than you should. Carmen studies the buns very carefully and asks you a lot of questions about the food, some of which you find amusing and actually—endearing. When you go to bed that night, your belly’s uncomfortably full. You dream that you’re pregnant and about to go into labor, and you’re pretty sure that Carmen’s the father. And, honestly, do you need a book of dreams to explain the meaning? Fuck.

---

All goes to hell next week when Carmen sees you eating a sandwich from the corner shop down the street. Instead of having your regular lunch with Becky, you’ve chosen to run to The Bear so you could see Marcus unveil his new dessert. But before that, you popped into the nearby deli to order a mozzarella and sundried tomato sandwich. No one at The Bear had ever explicitly invited you to the family meal, and you would never dare to have free food there. But the way Carmen looks at you while you sit on the step by the back exit, eating the rather dry sandwich, is indescribable. The stern look on his face is back, with a closed-off facade. His eyes are cold. Before you take it all in, you wave at him awkwardly, chewing. Carmen retreats back inside wordlessly, leaving you confused and a little hurt.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere surrounding you doesn’t improve when you return to work, the stupid sandwich sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone. You have a big argument in the meeting room while planning the next month's issue. Then one of your co-workers makes a nasty remark about your single life. The afternoon drags on painfully slowly, which forces you to message your cousin—an astrologist extraordinaire—to check what the heck is going on with the universe.

Tuesday morning is rough. The second you wake up, you know you’ve overslept because you never get up without the alarm ringing angrily. A single glance at your phone proves it to be true. Right after, you notice three missed calls from Sydney and two from Nat. There are no text messages, though.

At first, you intend to call Rob to beg for a home office day, something you rarely ever use. But as soon as you check your calendar, you’re reminded of the big conference happening from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m. You rush to work, finishing your makeup on the train, then enter the office building to quickly run through notes with your colleagues. The first time you have a chance to make a quick phone call is when you finally go to the bathroom. It’s Natalie who you manage to reach first, as the lunch rush at The Bear is just unfolding. Over the cries of Natalie’s baby, you hear half-sentences about a recipe, Carmen, and a leak. It’s hard to put it all together. At 4 p.m., Nat finally sends you a text. It says: “Recipe’s published in Taste of Home. Carm’s mad. Says someone leaked it.”

It contains a link to the Taste of Home website, with Carmen’s perfect Berkswell Pudding recipe in the Top Recipes of the Week, marked “Chef’s tip.” You check it again to make sure, and surely—it’s one of the dishes Carmen introduced to you just last week. You didn’t dare to photograph it, much less taste it. You remember concentrating on the way his lips moved when he explained the preparation process, not much on the cooking itself.

What’s clear to you is that the "Someone" from Nat’s message is actually you.

A gloomy dread settles in your stomach as the meeting goes on and on. You barely pay attention, which makes everything even worse. You’re scared of what’s happened in the restaurant, and you’re worried that you’re going to miss something important in the meeting.

When you run for a second quick bathroom break, instead of peeing, you think of your next step. You could try to call everyone in the restaurant, try to find out what the hell is going on. But you don’t want to be seen as hysterical. You check Instagram and possible messages to find traces of a catastrophe. There’s nothing. Again, you open the website with the recipe. The photos are pretty sloppy, definitely not something Carmen would prepare. As you check the ingredients, you notice there are some major differences from Carmen’s dish. All in all, the only thing that stops you from texting Carmen is your pride. And true fear.

Absolutely dreading facing Carmen, you make it to The Bear during dinner time. Which, obviously, is the worst possible timing. You’re only praying that he’s not in the kitchen but hiding in his office, deep in paperwork.

It’s Sydney who you meet first as you sneak into the restaurant through the back door. She grabs your arm.

“Don’t go to talk to him now! He’s in a really, really bad mood. Natalie and I were trying to call you.” There’s genuine worry on Sydney’s face, her eyes big and honest.

“I don’t understand what happened,” you frown. You can feel a headache approaching from the intense day in the office. “I think he should tell me himself if there’s a problem.”

“I’ve been trying to work it out with him, to explain—”

“Explain what?” you question, more sternly than you usually are around Syd.

She falters. “It’s just this stupid thing—and we love having you—don’t let Carmy upset you,” Sydney half-explains. It doesn’t make much sense, and you shake your head, heading to the office. You’re more mad than afraid now.

You don’t wait for an invite after you knock shortly. Closing the door behind you, you find Carmen leaning against the desk, a bottle of water in his hand.

Everything inside of you drops the second he lays his eyes on you. There’s no doubt he’s angry.

“Didn’t Natalie tell you you don’t have to come here again?” Carmen asks curtly. “I’m surprised you think it’s okay to be here.”

Not expecting Carmen to be this harsh from the beginning, you swallow instead of answering.

“I hope that you’re happy now,” he says meanly, putting the bottle down on the desk.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you croak out, sincerely meaning it.

Carmen straightens up, watching you like a feline. “The recipe. It’s out. One fucking thing I asked not to get out, and now the whole of America can see and fucking even cook it at home.”

You’re frozen to the spot. From the very beginning, you knew that Carmen is not a person to mess with, hoping that you would never experience his anger directed at you. Now it’s happening.

You want to say something about no one being able to cook the way he does, but it’s pointless. Instead, you’re fighting off the flush on your face from embarrassment. You feel like a child being scolded, but you don’t want to look like one.

The muted but still loud kitchen noises bleed through the closed door. A shout, clattering. Not loud enough to stop Carmen from piercing you through and through with his ice-cold eyes.

“I promise I didn’t do anything like that,” you say, desperately wanting the chef to believe you. “I swear!”

Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose, one hand propped on his waist. You wait, breathless, for his next move, scared to death. The shirt you have on is wet with your sweat. The really badly smelling kind—the one your body produces when you’re stressed or scared. And you’ve been stressed since the very morning. You flinch when you move your arm and the odor hits your nose, hoping that Carmen can’t smell you. You would be mortified. The strap of your tote bag is digging into your shoulder painfully, but you don’t dare to move to put it down to relieve your arm.

“This all doesn’t—it doesn’t make any sense,” Carmen starts pacing, looking down at the floor and not at you anymore. You’re not sure if it’s better this way. “You come here, wanna do a fucking interview with me, or some shit, then you show up again—this time wanting to work here. For free! So, please, tell me—how does it sound, huh?”

Petrified, you realize how exactly it all sounds. When Carmen says it like this, it makes you look like a fraud. Like a terrible, terrible person. A liar. Your mind goes weeks back, back to the moment you actually thought of maybe digging some scoop in here, maybe convincing Carmen to do the interview after all. But it’s far from how he’s making the situation sound.

“Carmen,” you start without knowing what you want to say. Carmen’s stopped walking around the tiny office like a caged animal, and he’s again looking at you. There’s so much tension in his face, back hunched. “It sounds bad, but may I explain—”

“You may not,” he cuts you off briskly. His neck—normally a place you find sexy—is all red, and the thick vein there is getting more and more prominent by the second. “No one fucks with my business, you understand?” Oh—and he’s shouting now.

The natural defense, you didn’t know existed, is to make yourself smaller. Somehow, anyhow. You hang your head, avoiding looking at his face. You just can’t meet his eyes, even though Carmen’s bowing and tilting his head to force you to.

“It’s like I have to start asking the staff to sign an NDA,” he carries on.

Carmen’s getting slowly closer and closer to you, pushing you against the wall by the door. He’s not touching you but only because you’re not allowing it. You’re sick with humiliation. Lost for words, probably for the first time in your life.

“—and Nat fucking leaves me here—us, all of us—and that’s just not fair. I would expect so, so much more from my sister. Not that my brother was much better,” he chuckles humorlessly, but you see it’s more like an effort to catch his breath. “Lousy fuckers… Do you think you do your job well here, chef?”

He’s scaring you now. The hair by his temples and above his forehead is damp, and his gesticulation is wild and weird.

“Do we disgust you here, is that right, hm?” Carmen probably finally sees your frightened expression because he adds, “Why would you buy food somewhere else and then come here to eat it?!” You understand that he’s referring to the day he saw you eating the sandwich by the rear exit. Unsure whether he expects you to reply, you decide to stay quiet. Your knees are starting to shake, from exhaustion after the long day and perhaps, from Carmen’s current behavior.

“It made ME sick,” he says, his face just inches from yours when one of his hands slams into the thin wall right next to your head. The noise echoes in the room, and you’re desperately hoping it’s not loud enough for the others to hear from outside. You would die on the spot if they knew what’s going on here.

“Who do you think you are?” Carmen shouts some more, loud, by your ear. It vibrates through you and never stops. You’re shivering all over, you notice. It’s not okay, not okay!

At last, you raise your head, chin jutting out. “No one’s going to talk to me like this. No one,” you spit out in the chef’s face, taking him by surprise. “Don’t you ever shout at me again,” and you jab him right in the middle of his chest, instead of punching him there like he deserves.

When you’re leaving his office and rushing to the back exit, you hear Carmen yelling.

Everything feels tense and your hands are shaking. Your jaw is set so hard your teeth could crush from the pressure. The fresh air hits your face, and you focus on breathing deeply through your nose. The sounds remind you of a steam engine. You walk for about a minute, mind blank with the shock. Only when you turn a corner do you allow yourself to stop, which causes the first tears to fall. You’re so mad at yourself. Why the fuck are you crying?! There’s so much frustration in the crazy mixture of emotions you’re feeling. You’re completely overwhelmed with it, not knowing what to focus on at first.

Out of habit, you look for your phone in your handbag to check the screen. The fucking heavy bag that’s been killing your shoulder. Frustrated, you let it slide off your arm and down to the sidewalk. You don’t even care if it breaks, as it lands with a noisy, dull sound. It had been years since you got properly yelled at, and you’re angry that it affects you this much. You promise yourself to take a few seconds here, in the middle of an empty street, then call a cab. At home, you can cry.

PART II

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cold War

The receiving room was beautifully furnished. Neither overly ostentatious nor fussy in design. But it had a... coldness to it. This entire god forsaken building was, artfully hidden fireplaces be damned.

And it wasn't just the temperature.

The North may be a cold place, but the people there had always been a hardy one. Kind, if stoic. Not the sort for empty words and flamboyant gestures. So to see a building like this? One so very, very COLD? It spoke of something rotten. Something gone terribly wrong and far beyond control, hidden away out in the countryside where no one could stop it in time.

And it had.

And it DID.

And oh, how we SUFFERED for it, didn't we?

I didn't understand what went wrong. I knew, KNEW, because I was no fool, that the Story would change. Since I was remove a load bearing antagonist, how could it NOT? But... well, I did not wish to die. Certainly not for some other girl's love story. I refused to suffer. To be humiliated. To lead a life of pain and degradation. Just so she might frolic about with men, only to ultimately end up on the throne.

She would either have to find her way to greatness on her own merit, or settle of mediocrity. But it would NOT be built upon the back of my suffering. I gracefully bowed out. Took leave of the stage. And? Comported myself as befit a daughter of my house.

They were not... the most open. In fact, they struggled to connect. To offer or even receive comforts of any kind. But my family LOVED with a fierceness that would lead armies and burn nations. We were ABSOLUTE. And we? Stand TOGETHER. Always.

I would never forget. No matter how many days pass by. WHO I first saw when I opened my eyes. Clustered around my tiny form, rumbled and undignified in a way I would never see them again, with eyes that shone with such RELIEF. I never saw my mother's make run like that again. I half believe she hopes I do not remember.

But I DO.

And I always will.

In the Story, my character was a terror. Haughty and cruel. Sadistic. A wealthy brat that played God right up until all her sins came due. She drove a great deal of the early plot. I? Did none of those things. I threw myself into being a good daughter and a shining reflection upon the parents I loved.

I took my etiquette lessons seriously, to the delight of my teachers. My school work was promptly finished and followed by clarifying questions, to the joy of my tutors. I was polite to my peers. Overlooked their embarrassing early fumbles and mistakes. Helped them navigate social disasters with dignity. Promised nothing yet remained approachable.

My prospects had been ABYSMAL in the Story. It was part of the Narrative's punishment, I think. Though in hindsight, it is an ugly thing to do. A wonder I ever found such a story interesting enough to read. I imagine, it is the difference between tales and lived events? Nonetheless. My father was FLOODED with letters.

My poor mother absolutely HARRASED. Not an outing could go by, without SOMEONE mentioning their DEAR, SWEET son or nephew. To maintain proper appearances and neutrality, I was forced to attend more party's and events then I EVER wished to see.

I felt like a slab of meat up for auction. A show pony. But I also knew it was temporary. That I need only keep an eye out for a good, respectful man. Listen to the rumor mills. Discreetly bribe a few servants for information that "everyone knew". It was, after all, the way of things.

Should have been, the way of things.

But trouble started. Strange infighting, that started between boys and escalated to entire households. Tense, unspoken, lines dividing garden parties that only the day before were amicable. The Protagonist and her Harem of powerful players? Were BLIND to it.

Two of them were PRINCE for God sake! How had they been RAISED, that they could not feel the sudden shift in the socio-political landscape of their Father's court? He certainly could. And it clearly unnerved him. Yet? The Harem, each son's, each HEIRS, of some powerful position? Seemed both blind and deaf to all but the painfully obvious.

And even THAT? Was apparently unconnected to each other in their empty little minds. Had they nothing but flowers and glitter between their ears? One had to assume.

People were... accidentally forgotten. When invitations were sent. Then deliberately. Then OPENLY. Then? They were SNUBBED. Events deliberately scheduled on the same day, at the same time, as another. So all of polite society would have to CHOOSE. It was escalation.

And if it had been on or two houses? It would have been scandalous. Depending on the house, perhaps even worrying. A handful of houses? The king might have tried to get involved. Forcefully mediate. But it... it was somehow so much WORSE. Was EVERYWHERE.

Like someone had carefully examined the entirety of the Court for fault lines, then SWUNG. Some silent, careful, machination that left everyone at everyone's throat. Divided. Weak.

Easy to manipulate and control.

I could not for the life of me find the source of it all. My social season becoming swiftly more and more dangerous. Politically charged. People pushing and PUSHING for alliances I could not and WOULD NOT give without consulting my family. The capital was no longer safe. So... I quietly left.

Letters of vague excuse. Family matters, cousin so-n-so in their time of need, I'm sure you understand. Too late to stop me and under the cover of darkness.

It... I tell myself it is not my fault. That it would have happened either way. That I could not have known. But... but guilt is a heavy thing. It sits like lead in your gut. Like chains around your soul. They were waiting, I think. More, I suspect. Because...

Because the capital all but EXPLODED.

The carnage was IMMEDIATE. Not even a full day later, at a hunting party, the heir to one house shot the second son to another.

He did not survive.

The powder keg finally sparked and it all went up in flames. Alliances that had stood for centuries, shattered. Brother turned against brother. A wedding turned into a bloodbath, as the bride turned on both her family AND the groom, escaped into the night. Fights broke out everywhere.

The festering tension that had gone for so long unspoken? Could no longer be ignored. Would not, be ignored. The king was helpless to stop it all. The gaurd could only do so much. The fluffy, happy, empty headed little world of comfort the Protagonist knew? Was shredded to pieces.

It became starkly clear that the royal family... couldn't handle it.

That their heirs were... Weak.

Captain of the Gaurd, the Prime Minister, even the King's strongest supporter, the Duke of the East, ALL of them had... weak and ineffectual heirs. One or two could be a failing of parentage, but all together? They had let someone sabotage their sons. Make them puppets to be used and discarded at convenience.

The natural suspicion, of course, fell to the one most benefiting from said son's empty headedness. Much to the Harem's horror. No! Not their beloved shared girlfriend! That the world was burning around them? Of no consequence. But upsetting their darling little mouse? Unforgivable!

It was an act of true, genuine, paternal love; that those fools were banished by the king. They would have been killed horribly had they remained.

My family and I? Retreated to our lands. We had enough to survive. Our House and our People came first. We sent no messages, we received none. I practiced my frankly terrible embroidery. My maids gently CORRECTED my frankly terrible embroidery. The country BURNED.

Powerful people were picked off, one by one.

And wouldn't you know it? A new star was rising from the chaos. A voice of reason. Charismatic. Driven. Handsome and powerful, with the bloodline to match. Conveniently allied already to all those people who had replaced the Old Guard in government! How very serendipitous. That those positions should just... open up, like that. That he just HAPPEN to have such qualified people at the ready.

What ARE the odds?

My House knew our monster know. We watched. Careful. As he smiled and smiled. One hand open in welcome, the other? Holding a knife, hidden just out of sight. The king saw him for what he was. And the monster saw a worthy foe in the king. They were, after all, both very Dangerous men.

It was likely swordsmen duel.

Deadly steel clashing, shining, swift as it dances, from attack to defend to attack again. Experience versus youth. Power against power. The king was an old dragon, stood against a tiger come to see him dead. And though the dance was breathtaking? In the end... the dragon was old. Tired. And not the man he had once been.

The tiger won.

The king died in his sleep. Of... natural causes. No one believed it. No one dared say otherwise. The crown princess ascended the throne. She had played the game well. Taken after her Father. Been neglected in favor of her idiot brothers. In the Story, she was to be married off. A side character never to be heard from again.

It seems she was not content with such a fate.

Now she was Queen.

My family and I applauded. Polite. I hoped it marked the end of the strangeness. So many had died. So much had changed. Surely... surely it was over, wasn't it? But then? In the cold light of the early morning hours? A letter. Pristine and on a fine paper. Sat like a viper upon the table before us. A bomb.

My Father had stared at it, over steepled hands, like if he glared long enough? It would simply catch fire and burn away. The Monster's crest. Pressed lovingly into the wax. What... what did That Man want with us?

I watched him grit him teeth. Run his letter opener through paper like he was imagining jerking it across flesh, slitting the bastards throat for DARING to threaten his family. I held my mother's hand as he read. Watched his grip on the pages go white knuckled.

He didn't even tell a servant to burn it.

He slammed his chair back, in a terrible fury, and marched straight to the nearest fireplace to consign the letter to the flames. Over his dead body. Was his announcement. I... I had a terrible feeling it might be, whatever was on those pages.

The letters kept coming.

My Father burned them all.

Then? Trouble started.

And I did not need to see history twice, to know how it would end. I got up early. Waited near the damn GATES. My Father could not burn the letter before I read it, if I was there first. It... it was a marriage proposal. I... I did not understand. Why? For what POSSIBLE reason would he...?

It did not matter though, ultimately. I would be saying yes.

For my family? Anything.

And so I packed. My Father knew he couldn't stop me. I was entirely too much his daughter. It was why he had burned the letters. I was doing exactly what he would have done. He vowed to kill him. Slowly. Held me a swore. He would make me the loviest widow to ever live. My Mother promised to go look up family recipes for poisons. For rats, of course.

I loved them so, so much.

I LOVE them even now.

It is why I sit, back straight, fragrant tea untouched, in this cold but beautiful receiving room. I wear my best dress. The one that makes me look coldly beautiful. Elegant but untouchable. I feel like a winter spirit in it. Something made of ice and bone. I wear it when I want to feel stronger. I don't know if it's helping.

If I hold myself still. Count my breathing and do not think. I can almost... ALMOST? Slip into a trance, I think. Let my mind unfocus. They are keeping me waiting. It's a power play. So be it. You will find me unaffected. Bored even, by your petty displays. I stare peacefully into nothing. A statue in a silent room.

I hope I fucking unnerve them.

Confident footsteps. How quite has it become, that I can hear them, even through the door? I do not turn my head. Note absent-mindedly that the tea before me has long grown cold. This whole damn place is cold. I dispise it. The door is opened for the master of this house. I pointedly do not greet him.

"Aaah~, So COLD" He sing song's, almost chiding, it'd be nearly playful if not for the hint of something darker threaded through his voice. He has an almost victorious little bounce to his step as he approaches. "But then again, I already knew that, didn't I? Frigid, untouchable, and unfeeling~ Now? Now you're MINE~"

He laughs. There is something half disbelieving, half euphoric in the noise. Like he's finally gotten everything he's ever wanted and doesn't know what to DO with himself. He invades my space. Looms. Eyes a touch too wide as he stares. Drinking in the sight of me sitting before him, like he can't believe it's real.

"Do you know, snowdrop? How long it TOOK? What I had to DO to achieve this? Ha ha!" The grin that spills across his feature is unhinged. All I can do is sit, tense and frozen before a madman, as he speaks. "The WHINING, the COMPLAINING, the 'what about meeeee'~! They never shut UP! Wretched and pathetic to the last, they panted after you like DOGS."

Hands slid from his pockets, to come to rest on either side of me on the arm rests, bracing and caging me in. Trapping me as he leaned down. Entirely too close. He smelled like winter air, sharp but clean. His eyes were a blue grey so hauntingly pale, they seemed to bore straight into the soul.

"But they were so GREEDY. So DESPERATE for power. It was EASY, to play them like fools against each other. Make them DANCE. And worth it. Because I get what I wanted~ The brat get her silly little throne, and you?" His grin was all teeth. One hand coming up to rest on my head. "Now you can NEVER escape me."

The hand slid, slow and fingers splayed, downwards. Possessive as each finger brushed, stroked, the side of my face. My jaw. My neck. His eyes following it down with something that could only be blatant lust. His grip tightened around my neck. Not enough to choke. Just, it seemed, to prove to himself that he COULD.

His thumb rest again my pulse, facinated.

Sliding back up to cup my chin, gently forcing my head up, so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. His eyes were dilated. I glared.

"I am going to RUIN you." He whispered, sounding entirely too reverent. As though it were some act of worship he had planned. "Take you apart at the seams. Pretty, pretty little thing. Mine, all mine~"

"I saw you first, you know. You couldn't even be bothered to look at me. I tried all night. That's when I KNEW. I was going to hunt you down. MAKE you mine. Marry you and destroy anyone and anything that stood in my way. And I DID~♡"

"I'm going to have each and every part of you, Darling. Love you and love you until you can't HELP but love me back. We are going to be BEAUTIFUL together. You don't have a choice~♡"

[shakingparadigm]

fav alnst round so far? (mines is round 6 because i love pain and sorry to break it to you but I literally had no reaction when best boy ivan died.hes dead guys accept it.)

Favorite ALNST round... I'd have to say ROUND 5. The concept of the whole thing is just so spectacular not only in set design but in character dynamics as well. The despair and mockery that lines the whole thing is fantastic.

I particularly adore the way this round further connects the concept of death with the color white. The stage which Luka and Mizi perform on is fully white in color because it's built from the bones of an ancient creature, something of a memorial site. In certain shots, the spine of this creature is very clear. The whole area is ethereal and invokes not only a sense of reverence, but unease, too. It's haunting, almost hollow, and just like its origin, lifeless.

The moon that shines behind Luka is almost as big and bright as a white dwarf, a dying star that has exhausted itself of life.

And of course, the association with death is further emphasized once images of Sua appear.

There's something to be said about the fact that this stage is from the bones of an ancient creature, one that was respected enough for its bones to be repurposed in its honor. A deep reverence, worship, even.

It's painfully fitting for Luka to dance upon the remains of a creature so revered while he toys with Sua's image. A form of mockery, of disrespect, especially to the one who worshipped her. In both the literal and metaphorical sense, he tramples over dead gods.

It's important to note that in this round there are two performers but three participants: Mizi, Luka, and Sua. The feeling of death is something that permeates throughout the entire round because everyone involved has been forced to face it. This shared trait manifests itself as their most striking visual aspect: their white attire.

With the insight gained from Luka's relationship with Heperu, it's safe to say that Luka has experienced the feeling of death firsthand. He has quite literally died and then come back to life.

There's the factor of his purple fingertips, a result of his weak physical condition that keeps him on the precipice of life and death. Combined with his extremely pale complexion, his imperturbable disposition and obssession with heartbeats, Luka seems like a body on its way to a corpse, desperately clinging onto his last hopes of life. Staving off the coldness of death for as long as possible and monitoring his own body so that demise is confined to just the tips of his fingers.

Sua's connection to death is obvious. She has died, she is death.

A point of interest, however, is the fact that while everyone is dressed in white, only Luka and Sua share the colors of white and black. They both have these colors in their design, but in opposite places. The black of Sua's design lies on top of her white, while vice-versa for Luka as his lies at the bottom. It works exceptionally well with their state of their characters. Sua as the dead that crosses into the living, and Luka as the living that toes the line of death.

As someone who watched her god die in front of her own eyes, Mizi dons a gown of pure white just like the others. The difference is her second color, a light pink layer resting atop her dress.

Pink has associations with innocence and childishness, and in its more washed out and subdued state (light pink = pink mixed with white, innocence tainted by death) it's a perfect fit for the circumstances.

It's only during her aggressive outburst, when Mizi has death directly pointed at her that the pink layer begins to rip. Completely shedding her innocence, giving way to complete white. Dressing her for death.

Luckily, Hyuna arrives just in time (clad in black, life) to save her.

ROUND 5 has always been a complete masterpiece to me, and the more I think about it the better it gets. A dying man trying to stay alive, a white-clad widow and the haunting apparition of her dead god all performing this sick dance of death upon the bones of a creature who was exploited for spectacle and performance.