#it feels like a think piece rather than a review

[familyabolisher]

I've walked past the Barbie branded selfie booth, sat through the reel of old commercials that precede the previews, and watched Margot Robbie learn to cry, and I’m still not sure what “doing the thing and subverting the thing,” which Greta Gerwig claimed as the achievement of Barbie in a recent New York Times Magazine profile, could possibly mean. This was the second Gerwig profile the magazine has run. I wrote the first one, in 2017, which in hindsight appears like a warning shot in a publicity campaign that has cemented Gerwig’s reputation as so charming and pure of heart that any choice (we used to call them compromises) she makes is justified, a priori, by her innocence. This is a strange position for an adult to occupy, especially when the two-hour piece of branded content she is currently promoting hinges on a character who discovers that her own innocence is the false product of a fallen world. But—spoiler alert!—the point of Barbie’s “hero’s journey” is less to reconcile Barbie to death than to reconcile the viewer to culture in the age of IP.

“Doing the thing and subverting the thing”: I haven’t finished working out the details, but I think the rough translation would be Getting rich and not feeling feel bad about it. (Or, for the viewer: Having a good time and not feeling bad about it.) One must labor under a rather reduced sense of the word “subvert” to be impressed with poking loving fun at product misfires such as Midge (the pregnant Barbie), Tanner (the dog who poops), and the Ken with the earring, especially given that the value of all these collectors’ items has, presumably, not decreased since the film opened. Barbie may feature a sassy tween sternly informing Robbie’s Stereotypical Barbie that the tiny-waisted top-heavy billion-dollar business she represents has made girls “feel bad” about themselves, but if anyone uttered the word “anorexia,” I missed it. (There was a reason Todd Haynes told the story of Karen Carpenter’s life and death with Barbies, and it wasn’t because an uncanny piece of molded plastic has the magical power to resolve the contradictions of girlhood and global capitalism.) There’s a bit about Robbie going back into a box in the Mattel boardroom, but Barbies aren’t made in an executive suite; they come from factories in China. On the one hand, it’s weird for a film about a real-world commodity to unfold wholly in the realm of ideas and feelings, but then again, that’s pretty much the definition of branding. Mattel doesn’t care if we buy Barbie dolls—they’re happy to put the word “Barbie” on sunglasses and T-shirts, or license clips from the movie for an ad for Google. OK, here’s my review: When Gerwig first visited Mattel HQ in October 2019, the company’s stock was trading at less than twelve dollars a share. Today the price is $21.40. 

Christine Smallwood, Who Was Barbie?

[delirious-donna]

Dawn Chorus [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I woke up with Higuruma on the brain (I love him your honour). It was only going to be a few hundred words, but here we are… the man needs to sleep so he can love you thoroughly.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: some somno, established relationship, pussy drunk Hiromi, oral sex, creampie

Masterlist

Higuruma Hiromi is a passionate man. He cares about his work, about his contribution to society, and about his relationship with you. Higuruma is also a tired man, often awake at ungodly hours to meet deadlines or review cases that he is working on pro bono. You love your husband and the dedication he tries to infuse into every day, but sometimes he just needs to sleep.

On the evenings where you are able to tempt him into just another glass of red wine, another piece of creamy Gorgonzola atop a cracker and just one more kiss, you feel like you’re winning against all the odds. It’s always far more enjoyable to go to bed together rather than having Hiromi kiss you goodnight on his way to the study.

Cuddled up against his back, you laugh at his faux resignation at being the little spoon… again. In truth, he likes it. He adores being held and the little kisses you pepper across his cheeks when you lean over to wish him sweet dreams. He toys with your fingers, pulling your palm so it lays flush over his heart until slumber drags you both under its warmth.

Of course, you were right.

Higuruma needed sleep and after a full eight hours, his eyes spring apart rather than sluggishly creak open like broken shutters. For once, he can appreciate the warmth of the sun and the tangle of the sheets instead of cursing his need to get up and go. Most of all, he can appreciate you, his beautiful wife, still fast asleep and no longer clinging to him like a koala.

So pretty, he thinks whilst his lips caress the sleep-soaked crook of your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent with gusto. Patient and honest, he admits when he peels back the thin cotton sheet to nose at your breasts. He continues to nuzzle until your nipples peak, a slow smile curving his lips and he can’t help but lower your top so he can taste you. Utterly perfect, he assures in silence, you are the salve to all of his wounds.

The morning dose of testosterone, that he would usually either quickly dispel by hand or with the aid of a cold shower, has him impatient and aching. His cock twitches inside his loose pyjama pants, but he ignores it in favour of taking his time. Flicking his tongue across your pert bud, he whines in his throat when you arch in sleep, straining to press yourself further into his mouth and he takes the invitation to suckle until you wake with a gasp.

Your eyes snap wide, belly aching with some unknown pressure that continues to build without faltering. A head of black hair decorates your chest, wet little suckling noises matched by the sensation of pulling tugged deliciously behind your navel.

“Hiro… mm, someone’s hungry this morning.”

Hiromi’s eyes roll over at the sleep affecting your voice, arms stretching overhead before lacing through his hair to tug at the roots. Instead of replying, he presses his pelvis against your hip, the hard length of his cock evidence enough that you are absolutely correct.

“Take what you want, love, I’m yours,” you coo softly, wriggling your hips in suggestion.

It’s one he doesn’t need clarifying, Higuruma has you bare and spread within seconds of your invitation. Amazed at the sheen of arousal already decorating your folds, he laps eagerly at the residue until all he can taste is you. He thumbs at your clit, using those slender fingers to peel you open like a flower in bloom only for his tongue to wet along your pussy.

You keen for him, driven on by his enthusiasm and the telltale rut of his hips into the mattress below. The hook of his nose replaces his thumb, dragging side to side over your pearl as it hardens from the friction and arousal. Grabbing great tufts of his hair, you grind yourself against his face and in turn his hold on your thighs shift to the meat of your backside. Hiromi palms your cheeks, pulling them apart until you feel more exposed than you thought possible.

“Fuck… Hiro!”

He can’t hear you through the muffle of your thighs by his ears and the wild beating pulse inside his head. With feverish need he bathes you in his spit, not content until your dripping down to the sheets. The tip of his tongue digs into your entrance, giving a strangled grunt at the squeeze you give around the wet muscle, and he pulls back to look up at you.

“Sweeter than ambrosia. I swear you would be more divine than any God,” he mumbles breathlessly, eyes hooded but not with fatigue for once.

Words fail you, becoming stuck in your throat at such conviction in his praise. All you can do is reach out and cup his cheek, skin soaked in your essence and his saliva but you hardly care. You watch as he fumbles with the drawstring of his pants, lowering the band to reveal his cock, purple and angry from lack of attention. Oozing pearls of translucent precum leak from his slit, and you’re ready to be filled but he lays flat once more.

Hiromi tongues at your sweet clit, teeth gently biting and tugging at your puffy folds while he wets his fingers and pushes two into you, right to the knuckle. You cry out at the sensation, more than ready for the stretch but not expecting this. His wrist rotates, fingers curling in a come-hither motion and when his fingertips pass over that deep mass of engorged tissue, your thighs tremble.

“Sing for me, darling. Be my morning chorus.”

If this was going to be the result of Higuruma getting better sleep, then you would drag his ass to bed every night if you had to. He humps the bed, strangled noises mingled with sharp little whimpers when you push his face deeper into the apex of your thighs. You could feel the wetness pooling between your cheeks and dripping to the sheets, Hiromi’s mouth making out with your pussy in a rhythm that matches his adventuring digits.

He was breaking you apart, masterfully unpicking every thread that made you whole and waiting with endless patience until you unravel into his palm. The heat between your hips grows too much all at once, the friction on your clit and the relentless thrumming of his fingers against your sweet spot blinding you without warning.

“Oh, I’m… fuck! Hiro—I can’t h-hold back!” Your voice warbles like a songbird, crescendoing into a shriek of bliss that could shatter glass.

Higuruma delights in your orgasm—revelling in it—stilling his fingers to feel your velvet walls clench and spasm around him and slowing the lap of his tongue to soft kitten licks. He massages your waist lovingly, stroking featherlight fingers across your quivering and soft stomach until you float back to earth.

It was all he could do to stave off his own release, his balls heavy with need and drawn tight to the base of his cock. He knew the moment he sat on his haunches there would precum staining the sheets, but he cared little considering the mess he’d already made from loving you so thoroughly.

Gingerly, he sits back and hisses at the slap of his cock against his stomach. You moan, squirming on the bed and he catches your eye. Your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, pupils blown wide and that’s all he needs to pump himself with wild abandon. His wife wants him. His wife is attracted to him. His wife always does the best by him.

His strokes were long but frantic, the slick sound of his foreskin rolling back to reveal his cockhead so sinful that he punctures his lip with his teeth. White hot heat drips from the small of his back, hips and backside tightening with the impending release.

“W-where?” He asks with a stutter, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Inside, Hiromi, please?”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

He lunges forward, bracing on one forearm whilst he notches at your still softly pulsing entrance and pushes inside. Your arms wind around his neck in urgency, kissing his face, his neck, his shoulder and anchoring your legs around his lean waist.

No sooner was he buried to the hilt, than his orgasm hit like a force of nature. His arms tremble, spine bowing and flexing under the pressure whilst he paints your most inner walls with thick, creamy seed. He collapses into your loving embrace, settling his warm cheek at your collarbone and damn near purring at the gentle stroke of your fingers through his hair and down his back, smiling dazedly.

Higuruma Hiromi is a passionate man, especially when he’s had a full night's sleep.

[writingwithfolklore]

Fictional Notes and Letters

                Notes, journal entries, lost letters, a book tucked into the back corner of the store—written hints and exposition can show up in storytelling across many forms. Given how useful and easy as it is to divulge information through perfectly scattered journal entries or a conveniently timed newspaper article this form of sharing information is a common trope across storytelling. Because of this, it can feel cheap or unearned.

                So here’s how to use written hints without making your readers feel cheated:

Don’t overuse it

Unfortunately this is the long and the short of it. The more information you have through written mediums, the less realistic or earned it will feel. If you can, keep this trope down to once or twice in a piece. If you can convey that information another way, choose that instead.

2. Create purpose behind its creation

Not only does the writing have to have the relevant information you need to convey, but it has to have a purpose for existence. Remember that people write notes to remember something, something they’d be likely to forget. If you can’t think of a reason someone would need to remember (or would believe they might forget) a piece of information, don’t convey it on a note. Journals are made to review someone’s day or emotions, it’s unlikely someone would journal about the government’s secrets (and even more so, scatter the pages around in an order for the protagonists to find to pace out said information—I’m sorry, I’m throwing just a little bit of shade at the indie horror community ;))

                If it’s not news worthy, it shouldn’t be in the news, etc. and so on. Think about why your written material was created, and by who, and how it ended up where it did.

3. Place it behind a barrier

This is a bit of a sneaky trick, but hiding your written hint behind an ‘effort wall’ is going to make it feel so much more earned to gain. Maybe the journal they’re looking for is within a locked desk, and the characters have to break in to get it. The sticky note with the password is in the suit pocket of the antagonist (they just happened to leave at the dry cleaner that morning). The binder of secrets is behind three security guards and a locked door.

                Any effort your protagonists have to make to gain the information is so much better than just happening to find it, and could trick readers into believing the information was more difficult to gain than it was.

4. Don’t make it too convenient

Lastly, make sure the characters don’t just learn what they were looking for, but a little bit less, and a little something else. If they need to know exactly who was at the party in 2005, maybe they don’t find a list of names, but rather a photo album of people they then have to do a bit more work to identify. The written hint should be that—a hint, a start of a greater solution. If it’s the end, a lot more effort should have come before.

                Good luck!

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

The Lark Ascending: A Chaconne Story (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Five years after leaving your heart in New York to chase your dreams in Vienna, you're finally a rising star in the classical music world. After scoring your biggest gig yet- a soloist job for a summer concert series in LA- you discover that the past isn’t as distant as you’d thought.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Hello friends, welcome to the Chaconne sequel, The Lark Ascending! This story is very near and dear to my heart and I’m so excited to be posting it. The inspiration for this fic is from one of my favorite pieces of the same name, The Lark Ascending. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to let me know what you think!

Being a musician was all about sacrifice; you had to be willing to get to the top by any means necessary. You couldn’t just give it your all, it had to be more than that. But what happens when that wasn’t enough? What happens when you have it all just within reach, but no matter how hard you try you can’t quite get there? Those were the questions you had asked yourself when you first moved to Vienna. It seemed like no matter what you tried, how many hours you practiced, it wasn’t right. There was something missing. You did everything you should have, you moved to Vienna (although that wasn’t entirely your idea to begin with), you performed night after night with your blood, sweat, and tears, all while healing a broken heart.

It felt like you had all of the pieces to the puzzle in front of you, but they didn’t fit together. Or rather, you didn’t fit. There was something missing, and no amount of practicing could fix that. There was a small voice in the back of your mind whispering that there was a reason you didn’t make it into the Manhattan Symphony. Agatha would always say how much progress you were making, how much potential you had, that there was promise, but you wondered just how true that was; how much of it she really meant. You had been doing a lot of thinking on your relationship with Agatha lately.

The first few months after you moved to Vienna, you couldn’t even say her name without crying. There were reminders of her everywhere you turned. The coffee shop near your apartment, the rehearsal hall where you spent most of your time, every park you strolled through. You’d stumble upon small things, like a review for a new play, or interesting theories on post-modern music, and subconsciously want to share them with her. A beautiful sunny day, the flowers blooming in the ground, the wind whistling in the distance, the way the dew sparkled on the grass after a thunderstorm, everything was Agatha. You knew they called Vienna “The City of Dreams”, but you never anticipated all of your fantasies to revolve around the same woman. How were you supposed to get closure when she was thousands of miles away?

Your solace came, unsurprisingly, in the form of music. Vienna was the birthplace of some of classical music’s great forefathers, and there was inspiration all around you. Performing with Natasha and her chamber orchestra was like a breath of fresh air, and with every performance you slowly found yourself again. It wasn’t entirely true when they said time heals all wounds, because you weren’t sure you’d ever heal from the scar of leaving Agatha, but with every month that passed you found it hurt less and less. You often thought you would always love her, but this was for the best, you knew it was.

Eventually, it felt like everything was falling into place. Performing with a prestigious group that featured world renowned soloists like Wanda Maximoff meant you were able to make the right connections. You worked harder than you ever thought possible, and channeled your grief into your music to push you forward. It paid off in the end, and with Natasha and Wanda’s help you eventually entered a rising soloist contest.

Getting over your fears of inadequacy was another story. You knew that the one thing that was missing was your ability to believe that you were good enough; that you had always been good enough. No amount of practicing could convince you of that either, it had to come within yourself.

In the days leading up to the competition, you had a breakdown in front of Wanda that changed the way you saw yourself.

You set your violin down on the piano, ignoring Wanda’s concerned glance in your direction. “I think I need to drop out of this competition. I’m nowhere near ready.”

Wanda frowned, looking over the sheet music you had handed her earlier. “What are you talking about? You have everything memorized. You sound really good.”

“I don’t feel ready,” you argued, staring at the floor, trying to ignore the tightening of your chest at the thought of competing that weekend.

“No one ever feels ready for these sorts of things,” Wanda pointed out, and you knew she was trying to help, but you weren’t in the mood to hear it.

“I’ve never had the best luck with these sorts of things,” you reminded her. “I think I need to accept that this kind of dream isn’t feasible for me.”

“Why do you keep getting in your own way?” Wanda questioned, moving the sheet music to the side, her tone curious.

“I’m not getting in my own way,” you politely informed her. “I’m being realistic.”

“Nothing about this, about what we do is realistic,” Wanda corrected you, standing up from her seat. “I never thought I’d make it as a soloist, but I had to believe in myself enough to try. If you can’t even give yourself that, then you’re right; this isn’t feasible for you.”

Her words sat with you for a moment, and as you took it in, you felt the tightening in your chest begin to break until you could breathe again. She was right, you knew it deep down. As silly as it sounded, you had to give yourself a chance.

That ended up being the first competition you ever won, much to your surprise and Wanda’s delight.

Things began to look up after that. You slowly entered more competitions, and eventually you made enough of a name for yourself to begin soloing with various orchestras. It was nothing you could have ever imagined in your wildest dreams, but it was real. You did it. In spite of the heartache and pain, you did it all.

The past year proved to be your busiest yet. You had been booked solid with performances across the U.S. with a wide variety of orchestras, and your schedule wasn’t slowing down just yet. You would be spending your summer in Los Angeles, and you were still in disbelief.

If you had told yourself five years ago that you would be the featured artist in residence of the Los Angeles Symphony’s summer season, you would have thought it was a joke. Being the premiere performing symphony on the entire west coast, they had a stellar reputation and drew in huge crowds. Stephen Strange was a legendary conductor who you had always dreamed of getting to work with. It almost felt too good to be true.

You made it to the symphony center a little earlier than you planned, but with the unpredictability of LA traffic you didn’t want to risk being late. All that was on your agenda for the day was a meeting with the CFO of the board, Tony Stark, and a short rehearsal. But, you were hoping to get a quick peak of the concert hall while it was still empty. There weren't many people around this early in the day, but you had little trouble navigating yourself around until you found the backstage door.

The concert hall was pitch black, and you fumbled with the switches backstage before managing to flip on a single stage light. You wouldn’t need anything more than that, surely. Stepping on the stage you looked out at the vast concert hall, which seemed to hold hundreds of empty seats, and you pictured what it would be like to step out to thunderous applause. None of your previous experiences performing as a soloist had ever been for an audience of this size, and you silently came to the realization that the crowd at the Hollywood Bowl would be even larger. A familiar tingle of nerves coursed through your system as tiny thoughts of doubt twirled around your brain. Were you ready for this?

Absentmindedly tapping your fingers against the music stand at the podium, your eyes swept across the room. A quick glance at the schedule confirmed that no one from the orchestra would be here until later in the evening, so you’d have the place entirely to yourself. Taking a deep breath, you unpacked your violin and began to tune, taking note of how the sound bounced all around the walls, and gradually felt yourself relax. It was funny, you mused as you lowered your violin, how easy it was for you to discredit how much you had accomplished over the past few years. You weren’t just some conductor’s assistant anymore, you were a professional violinist, and a good one at that. It was unclear if your hesitation to accept your success came from the fear of being considered overly cocky, or if it derived from years of low self esteem and an inferiority complex.

Taking another long, calming breath, you swept those thoughts aside. Raising your violin, you rolled your shoulders back, turning so you were facing the front of the hall. It would be foolish to play the entire piece hours before rehearsal, as you would be wasting energy that you would desperately need. Performing was a lot like running a marathon, you couldn’t blow through everything you had in the first few miles and be left with nothing for the end. No, you needed to be intentional with every movement of your bow and shift of your fingers up and down the fingerboard.

The Lark Ascending was a majestic sixteen minute piece that was filled with swooping melodies as the violin sang higher and higher with every measure. Vaughan Williams was a composer during the late Romantic Era, crossing over into the Contemporary, and he had been inspired by a poem of the same name written by English author George Meredith. Vaughan Williams was able to create such stirring imagery with the notes on the page, that it was easy to get lost as you were playing and get transported to this dreamy, astral realm. Filled with a gorgeous blend of vivid colors and clouds, you felt like the lark Vaughan Williams was depicting, soaring through the clear skies.

The piece was filled with vulnerable cadences where you played without the orchestra’s accompaniment acting as a safety net in case you fell. You had to be completely sure of yourself, a hint of hesitation of your fingers or incomplete bow changes would ruin this picturesque painting. Rolling your bow to the frog, you internalized what you wanted your first note to sound like, settling on working on your opening phrase. Placing your fingers on the string, you closed your eyes and began. Your introduction was a stunning cadenza, with the tempo gradually increasing as you began your opening runs, your fingers gliding across the strings.

There was freedom with the tempo, allowing you to take your time and savor each note, your vibrato ringing through the hall. As you climbed higher and higher into the stratosphere it almost felt like you were the lark, ascending into the open air. Performing like this had unlocked a new sense of freedom you always yearned for; the countless hours of practicing turned into an almost effortless sight to any audience. It was as natural as breathing, and each exhale you took matched the strokes of your bow. Nearing the end of the phrase, you tried a new stylistic technique as you shifted your fingers gradually down the fingerboard, making note to try it again later at rehearsal.

As your bow stopped moving you made a few other mental notes of where you could add more vibrato, or improve your dynamics, when all of the lights in the hall turned on, snapping you out of your inner thoughts. The abrupt sound of loud clapping is what startled you the most, as you thought no one else would be using the stage until tonight. You turned around to find the stage door was still ajar, just as you left it, but you noticed a figure lingering in the shadows, and you nearly jumped at the sight. The building was secure enough that you weren’t going to be murdered, right?

“Can I help you?” You asked as politely as possible, setting your violin in its case.

“I have to say, dear, you certainly know how to leave a girl wanting more,” A familiar voice rang out, amusement clear from their tone as they stepped into the light. “You must have had an excellent teacher.”

Agatha Harkness leaned against the door frame, hands folded across her chest. Her dark hair was splayed against her shoulders in their usual messy curls, and you were surprised to find her in more casual attire consisting of a pair of black jeans and a lightweight button-up sheer white shirt. She arched an eyebrow at your shocked expression

You felt your heart stop as you stared into a familiar pair of blue eyes. “Agatha?”

Her lips twisted upwards, smirking, a familiar glint in her eyes. “Surprised to see me?”

Time stood still as you were frozen in place, millions of thoughts dancing around your brain. You were unsure if it had been five seconds or five hours, all you could do was try to remember to breathe. Agatha was here, but how was she here? Were you imagining it? It wouldn’t have been the first time, as you’d lost track of the number of appearances she had made in your dreams over the years. They were all of slightly different variations, but would all end in the same heartbreaking fashion of reconciling with the conductor and feeling a sense of happiness you’d long forgotten…until you inevitably woke up alone.

Blinking, you took a timid step towards her, your hands uncomfortably folding behind your back. “Agatha, what are you doing here?”

Ignoring your question, she walked over to your violin case, and, despite your protests, she picked up your violin, examining it. “I see someone got a new instrument.” Gently turning it, you watched her trace the scroll, her fingers dancing around the pegs. “A shame, really, I was quite fond of your old one. But this is nice too, I suppose. What is it? Italian? German?“

“Swiss, actually,” you lightly corrected her, holding out your hands, signaling for her to hand it over.

As she disregarded your wishes for a second time, you felt a familiar pang of annoyance at how stubborn she could be. Picking up your bow, she raised your violin, setting the bow on the string, before releasing and producing a G-major chord. As the chord echoed throughout the hall you relished in the sound. Agatha had rarely used your violin before. She had always insisted that her talents remained with conducting and the piano, but you recalled a few memories of convincing her to play a scale or two on your violin.

You were normally extremely protective over your instrument, often refusing to allow anyone else to even hold her. However, you recollected, it had never been like that with Agatha. There had been some deep, unspoken level of trust that you had never felt with anyone else.

“Impressive,” Agatha remarked, appearing to admire the sound quality, before finally handing it back to you. Her hands briefly brushed against yours as you wrapped your hands around the neck of your violin, and it was as if you had been zapped by lightning.

But as quickly as the sensation overcame you, it was gone. Agatha retracted her hands, deep blue eyes boring into yours with the same intensity she always seemed to carry.

Clearing your throat, you broke eye contact, feeling the weight of her gaze still on you. “You never answered my question. What are you doing here?”

The conductor released a thoughtful hum, as you watched her move towards the edge of the stage. “Now is that any way to greet the Los Angeles Symphony’s guest conductor, dear?”

Guest conductor? Your face scrunched up, surprise coloring your features. None of your recent internet searches of the conductor revealed she would be in Los Angeles for any upcoming performances. Now, you weren’t exactly stalking Agatha, that would be creepy. You just liked to occasionally see what she was up to. That was normal, right?

“Tony never mentioned a guest conductor when I spoke with him earlier,” you pointed out, leaving out your internal ramblings as you were sure Agatha would get far too much pleasure from hearing you had looked her up.

“Well, it appears that Stephen contracted a rather nasty stomach bug, and I just happened to be in the area.” Agatha explained, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

Now, you weren’t claiming to be an expert geographer, but something in your gut told you that she was lying. “So you just happened to be in California when you live on the East Coast?”

“Something like that,” Agatha tossed out, teasing you ever so slightly, and you scoffed.

She had always been elusive; that had been part of her charm. You never entirely knew what to expect when you were dealing with Agatha Harkness, and that used to excite you. She often reminded you of a raging hurricane, with her occasional fits of anger and passion all mingling together like the waves crashing against the shore. There had been a gentler side to her, of course, located in the eye of the storm. That had been the Agatha you were most familiar with, underneath all of the sarcastic quips and horrible temper was the woman you had once fallen in love with.

Nothing about her had ever been direct, which nearly drove you mad. But the subtlety of how she offered her affection more than made up for it. Nearly every night she insisted on driving you home, and you had quickly learned she detested the subway. She had been horrified when you had revealed you almost never cooked, so she made a point to teach you her favorite recipes (while only gently mocking your lack of skill in the kitchen in the process). It was clear she hadn’t been used to expressing her emotions, but then again you had never been an expert in that field either. Still, she loved you in her own way, and deep down a small part of you knew she loved you enough to let you go all those years ago.

But standing here now, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was really doing here. Did she know you were set to premiere with the orchestra? There was a fleeting thought where you dared to wonder if she came here for you, but you knew that was too foolish to even imagine. It had been so long without any word from her, why would she come to you now? You had performed with a few other orchestras in the States over the past year, and there had been a few brief moments where you hoped she would show, but she never did.

She was looking pleased, far too pleased for your liking. A rather dark thought crossed your mind, and you shot her an incredulous look. “Oh my god, did you do something to Stephen?”

Agatha let out a loud cackle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m a conductor, dear, not a homicidal witch. What exactly do you think I could have done, beat him up with my baton?”

That painted a rather interesting image in your head, but you frowned at her, unamused. “You’re not going to tell me what you’re doing here, are you?”

“You always were a fast learner, darling,” Agatha quietly remarked as she took a step towards you, the once familiar pet name sounding foreign on her tongue. “I must say, I was surprised to learn you had selected Vaughan Williams.”

“Why?” You questioned, noting how she slowly inched her way closer to you.

“I suppose I assumed you’d pick something with more flare. Tchaikovsky perhaps, or Sibelius.”

Shrugging, you vaguely called to mind one of the first things Agatha had ever said to you. “I don’t know, I guess I always preferred something more subdued, you know?”

You watched her eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint, and it was clear she knew what you were doing. “Something more subdued, hm? Not a fan of the dramatics?”

“I think that’s much more your genre of choice than mine,” You retorted, feeling the air in the room begin to thin as she circled you like a shark.

Agatha stepped in even closer, and her fingers reached up, playing with the loose strands of hair that fell around your shoulders. You felt your body react to her touch, a sensation you’d long forgotten. “You cut your hair,” she murmured, so low you could barely hear her.

“You haven’t seen me in over five years,” you pointed out, feeling a wave of nerves hit you over having her so close. “I’m sure my hair’s changed a lot since then.”

“It looked longer in Chicago,” she mused, still twirling the strands around, and you were stunned. Chicago? Your most recent performance was with the Chicago Philharmonic last month, and that would mean that…was she there?

“How would you know that?” You pressed, and her fingers ceased their movements, as you searched her eyes for a glimpse into what she was implying.

You could feel millions of unanswered questions dancing between the two of you, the tension thick in the air. Agatha’s hands abruptly dropped your hair as if she had been burned, and you briefly yearned for her touch again.

“My assistant showed me a recording of the performance on their phone,” Agatha explained, folding her hands against her chest. “Your stage presence certainly has improved, but you were late coming out of your cadenza.”

Ignoring the slight dig, your brain honed in on what she said prior to that. Her assistant. You couldn’t help but ask yourself if she had kept the same assistant since you left. A brief, but intrusive, thought made you wonder if the dynamic between Agatha and this new assistant was similar to the one you once shared. Did she call them the same terms of endearments she had bestowed upon you? Did she introduce them to her favorite old movies that you used to beg her to turn on? Did she go out of her way to fluster them, as she once took pleasure in doing to you?

You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t as if you were together anymore, Agatha was free to do what she liked and to see who she pleased. You had a few short-lived, meaningless flings while living abroad, so it would be hypocritical to judge her. But, there was a voice screaming deep inside you, questioning how special your time together truly was if she could have replaced you so easily?

“Right, your assistant.” You tried your best to keep the bitterness from seeping through, but could practically taste the venom in your mouth.

Agatha raised her eyebrows, but refrained from commenting on your change in tone. Instead, she turned to walk down the stairs of the stage, leading to the aisle. “I only heard the last few bars of your cadenza, and it isn’t terrible, but it could certainly be better. Now, I don’t have my score on me, but it sounds like you’re losing too much momentum as you come down the fingerboard.” She sat a few rows back from the stage, crossing her legs together. “Could you take it again from your last run, and try to make your decrescendo last longer? We want to elongate these phrases to draw the audience in.”

There had been a time when you would have done anything Agatha had asked of you without question. Your daily practice sessions with the conductor had been grueling at times, as she was incredibly nitpicky, and had an impeccably well-trained ear. Any missed entrance or a note that was even just a hair flat she would pick up on. You had worked with a lot of gifted musicians in the past, but none of them could dream of coming close to Agatha Harkness. She wasn’t just a conductor, she possessed the rare ability to take the notes off the page and transform them into these brilliant, colorful works of art.

You used to live for her praise, and would often go out of your way to receive it. It had been your worst fear to disappoint her somehow, even if it meant sacrificing your own dreams to please her. But things were different now, you weren’t her assistant anymore. The burning desire to gain her approval still lingered somewhere within you, but it wasn’t as strong anymore. You knew that you would be okay without it, as you had to learn to live without her.

Giving her a pointed look, you decided to test the waters. “You do realize you’re not my boss anymore, right? I don’t have to just do whatever you say.”

Agatha looked momentarily stunned, and you could practically watch the gears turning in her head. “If I recall correctly, you used to enjoy having me tell you what to do.”

Looking down, you forced yourself to not remember just how much you used to enjoy that. Clearing your throat, you thought of something to fire back with. “Well, they do say memory is the first thing to go.”

“Funny, dear.” Agatha deadpanned, but as you lifted your head you were able to see the corners of her lips were turned upwards. “But I’m not paying you to just stand there and look pretty.”

“You’re actually not paying me at all, the orchestra is.”

“Technicalities,” Agatha said dismissively, waving her hand to signal you to hurry up. “And as you just so kindly pointed out, I’m not getting any younger. Any day now.”

It was clear Agatha wasn’t going to let up, and you weren’t in the mood to keep arguing with her. Grabbing your violin, you gently rested it under your arm. “Should I start at my last entrance?”

Agatha had a thoughtful expression on her face, and you couldn’t help but focus on her fingers tapping out indecipherable rhythms on the top of the seats in front of her. “Hmmm, let’s take it from the top. Do you need your sheet music?”

Shaking your head, you raised your violin. Placing your bow on the string, you tried to rid yourself of the nerves you could feel start to overtake you. Your first few notes rang through the hall as you tried to perfectly time each shift of your fingers and vibrato. Everything had to be fluid; any jerky bow changes or careless finger placements would risk destroying the exquisite illusion you were painting. Some violinists would claim the most challenging pieces to perform were the ones with incredibly fast passages that were often impossible to master. Your brain had to be a few steps ahead of your nimble fingers so you could anticipate what the next notes would be, and one small slip up would send you tumbling down.

While you agreed that exuberant pieces were extremely difficult, you would argue that the hardest pieces to perform as a soloist were the more melodic ones. The pieces filled with stunning melodies, warmed up by gorgeous vibrato. They weren’t packed with thrilling runs up and down the fingerboard, instead they were notated with sweet, heartbreakingly beautiful lines that required you to pour your heart out. Yes, it was scary to have to nail a few hundred notes coming out one after another, but the hardest feat to master on the violin was the ability to play achingly slow, glorious passages. It was to fully captivate an audience with every elegant swish of your bow and dance of your fingers on the strings.

You were so swept up in the notes you had memorized in your brain, you barely heard the soft creaking of the stairs leading up to the stage. There was a particularly bare section halfway through your cadenza, where you were so high up the fingerboard that you needed to extend your elbow to allow your fingers to reach. It wasn’t good enough to merely play the right notes; you had to be confident your left hand was pressing down on the correct spot on the string, while your right hand held the bow but didn’t press too hard down. If you applied too much pressure when you released the bow, it would produce a screeching noise on the string.

Continuing on, you kept your fingers on your bow relaxed, but you could gradually feel your shoulders begin to tighten. This happened on occasions when you were feeling particularly nervous or antsy, and it was usually difficult for you to relax them. As you tried to refocus your breathing and attempt to get your body to calm down, you could feel a familiar presence lurking in the background. Even though you could not see her, you knew she was right behind you. You had found yourself in this exact scenario with the conductor too many times to count. She would always promise to stay in her seat while you were playing for her, but would almost always end up on the stage within mere moments.

As if she could sense you about to stop playing, you heard her voice ring out. “Don’t stop now, dear. I’m just observing something.”

You wanted to turn around and ask if she was observing your ass, but you knew she would merely retort with something to make you blush furiously in response. So you kept going, trying not to picture what she was doing.

As the line slowly started to take you down the fingerboard with every new phrase, you put all of your attention into your intonation. You could hear her take yet another small step towards you, to the point where she was nearly pressed up against you.

“You need to relax.” Agatha uttered, so close to whispering in your ear that you reflexively shivered. She put one hand on your shoulder, rubbing gentle circles. “Your posture is giving me horrible flashbacks.”

It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to remember the correct notes when she was closer to you than she had been in so long. Her other hand rested on your hip, the sensation almost causing you to drop your violin. It had been so long since you last felt her touch, and you could just barely hold onto the melody in your memory. A small voice in the back of your brain begged for more, but you ignored it.

“Relax.” Agatha repeated, her voice firmer this time, and you felt your body obey her command. Your shoulders finally went down to their correct position, but her hands stayed on you. “There we go, good girl.”

Your brain buzzed at her words, feeling your cheeks burn and you were thankful she couldn’t see the effect she still had on you. As you reached the end of the cadenza, you slowly lowered your instrument, trying your best not to fall over from the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “So, what did you think?”

Using the hand situated on your hip, Agatha swiftly twisted you around to face her, moving the hand she had on your shoulder down to help secure your violin. You stumbled just ever so slightly, but she steadied you, her grip tightening on your waist.

“Easy there,” Agatha lightly teased, and you thought you saw her eyes hungrily rake up and down your body. “Have you always been this jumpy, or are you just excited to see me?”

There was so much you wanted to say, but there was a lump in your throat that grew bigger with every tug on your waist, drawing you impossibly closer to the woman your brain refused to let go of. She was infuriatingly high-handed, extremely egotistical, and was single-handedly the most stubborn individual you had ever encountered. She was obsessive, and aggressive, and had her eyes always been so blue?

“Agatha…” you managed to breathe out, desperately trying to clear your head and regain some sense of self control, but your brain felt slippery.

The combination of the heat from the bright stage lights and the intensely burning gaze from the conductor had you feeling more unsteady on your feet as the seconds slowly ticked by. You’d spent the past year performing in sold out concert halls, yet you were never more nervous than you currently felt being face to face with Agatha Harkness.

It was unclear how long you stood there, staring at each other. You knew Agatha well enough to know she had something to say, it was written all over her face. But she remained silent, one hand situated on your waist and the other gently holding your violin in place. There was something about the way she was looking at you, as if she thought she’d never see you again.

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, a loud buzzing noise began to ring through the hall. The moment was broken as she released you, sighing as she reached to her back pocket, revealing her cell phone.

Squinting at the screen, and you suddenly remembered the difficulty she had of reading off her phone without her glasses, she frowned. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s my assistant.”

You took a step backwards, feeling burned. “Right. Your assistant. Best not keep them waiting.”

Agatha gave you a brief, perplexed glance before answering her phone. “What do you want now?” Loudly sighing, you watched as she closed her eyes, clearly vexed. “I already told you, for the millionth time, it’s the box in my study.” Pausing, as she listened to her assistant reply, she held up a finger to you, signaling for you to wait for her. “For the last time, no, nothing else. Just the box in my study, the singular box. Make sure Scratchy is ready to go as well.”

It appeared the assistant had more questions, as you watched Agatha pinch the bridge of her nose in agitation. “No, no, no, stop,” she then paused, and looked at you again. “I have to deal with this, I’ll see you at rehearsal.”

She stormed away without another word, squawking orders over the phone, and you were left in the aftershock of the earthquake that was Agatha Harkness.

[genericpuff]

The Extended Mishandling of LO's S3 Midseason Finale Premiere

Alright, so I had mentioned leading up to the release of the newest LO episode that my feelings regarding LO returning were pretty "meh". Not hyped, but not completely back of mind either. Just sort of a weird calm before the storm type feeling that could go either way.

I'm glad I got to have that moment of calmness because good god, this episode was an absolute shitshow. And honestly, I'm not surprised, for several reasons:

Rachel has never been good at maintaining a buffer, even back at the start of the series she only ever had 2-3 episodes ready ahead of her schedule which is NOT an ideal buffer for an originals series.

Rachel has never been good at writing, she's very "draw first write later" and has stated as such in interviews that when she gets 'stuck' on what she's writing, she'll just start drawing and fit the pieces in later.

Four months is NOT enough time to both rest, attend massive conventions, and work on improving a project while also getting buffer episodes ready.

Because of the FP episodes remaining locked over the hiatus, technically Rachel only needed to have ONE episode ready upon return for the newest FP release, not multiple like she'd usually need like in the past during the S2 midseason hiatus or the season finale episodes which would unlock those FP releases like normal - so for all we know, she could have drawn this episode literally last week, especially when the promo material was so last minute. Frankly I think it was REALLY stupid for whoever it was who decided to keep these FP episodes locked (whether it was her or WT, it was more likely WT) but you can read all I have to say about that in my review of the midseason finale episodes.

All that's to say, no, there was never any guarantee Rachel was going to somehow "turn around" the ride we're currently on. I know that many of the critics were hoping for that to happen, but with the circumstances of the hiatus mixed with Rachel's bad habits of putting her best efforts into the procrastination projects that aren't her actual comic (ex. the few original pieces and LO sketches she put out during the hiatus) it just wasn't in the cards. This is where the comic is at and this is where it will remain until it's over.

I want to also point something out about this episode that was... really glaring to me.

As with all of these hiatus returns, LO got priority advertising in the first two banner slots and push notifications AND a popup ad within the app. This is unsurprising, Webtoons is still trying to milk this thing for what it's worth.

I know a lot of people are gonna focus on the art, or the fact that WT is continuing to shill LO, but I wanna point out the part that WT implemented specifically - "NEW SEASON".

This is literally just false. At best I'd like to think some intern just messed up and thought this was a new season, but it's literally not, the episode designation still says "S3". Note that the creators only design the banner art, the actual labels on top are put there by Webtoons.

But at worst, this feels like blatant lying to continue to hide the fact that LO is ending. Mind you, Rachel and Webtoons have still not put out official posts stating that this is the final arc. There is NOTHING from either of them to communicate to the audience that the comic is ending next year. It feels like they're trying to avoid the topic altogether out of fear of losing the fanbase they still have, rather than hyping up the comic's end for those who have stuck around to see how it all wraps up. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, considering they're now trying to funnel the fanbase into Penguin/Inklore with new marketing deals and the whole Rachel Smythe Presents thing. They're trying to make this seem like the beginning of something "new" when it's really just a quiet shifting of management (Penguin House).

But all that aside, let's actually get into the episode. It's one episode after 4 months, which is not standard for LO's hiatuses, typically FP episodes release on schedule (meaning free readers start hiatuses 3 weeks after FP readers do), the only time this has been an exception has been with the 2 week breaks because the whole point of those was to build a buffer (which you can't do if you're going ahead and releasing the FP episodes anyways). For extended hiatuses like these, usually free readers still get their FP episodes, but that wasn't the case here. That means Rachel technically only needed one episode ready for the comic's return, and it shows. It really fucking shows.

FROM HERE ON OUT THERE WILL BE FASTPASS SPOILERS REGARDING EPISODE 254. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED !!!

As per tradition, we get a title that means nothing at all. It just says what we already know.

Our collective husband Zeus is dying, no thanks to the poison cupcake fed to him by Apollo. For those who don't remember, Apollo had tricked Zeus into eating the cupcake by making him believe it was from Hebe. We are fully aware that it was Apollo who poisoned him. Remember that for later in this review.

Right off the bat we're off to a hilarious start, both with a cryptid appearance from Apollo in the background (lmao) who is, for some reason, ALREADY returning to the scene of the crime he just committed because... who knows at this point. Apollo and Psyche know it was Apollo at this point, I might add, but I have no clue why Apollo is actually returning to the scene of the crime when he has no idea Eros and Psyche know.

Moving on from that, can we talk about this hilarious dialogue?

"We have to call a doctor! Let's call Asclepius!"

"No, we can't trust him! Gosh darn it, why are we only bothering to think of ONE doctor in this universe where we've seen more than one doctor?? Guess Zeus is just gonna die! What a horribly contrived situation this is!"

And that's literally how I can best describe most of this episode. Contrived. There is a LOT of manufactured drama in this that makes ZERO sense even on a surface level.

And what do you mean exactly, Eros? "What a terrible system!" Is this supposed to be a joke? Lampshading? We've seen Persephone go to the gynecologist. There are non-god doctors who tend to gods all the time here.

Eros just doesn't seem to be that pressed over this, he sounds like Ned Flanders and that's NOT a good way to open up a scene like this... let alone an episode people have been waiting four months for.

Anyways, after a few pointless reaction panels (again remember I have to cut a lot of what I show here for Tumblr image limitations but I promise you, I'm keeping as much important stuff as I can in this, there's just THAT MUCH filler at this point), Eros and Psyche confront Apollo and he is... good god.

There is... so much to unpack here.

First of all, remember those theories about how Rachel was clearly trying to write Apollo as this "secret twist villain" the whole time but it doesn't work because Apollo is simultaneously written as both a 'conniving villain' and a massive dumbass at the same time?

Well, I finally have a more appropriate term for him. He's your average red pill redditor - someone who thinks he's smarter than everyone else when really all he does is sit on reddit all day using big words incorrectly in arguments he gets himself into with a bunch of equally-air-headed dumbasses.

"You can't possibly understand the nuances of the Olympian political system," Apollo said proudly, a man who had, ironically and obliviously, run for president in a monarchy. The union of kettle and pot is eternal.

He's the Slappable Jerk but instead of it being a painfully hilarious impression, it's just painful and hilarious for all the wrong reasons.

this is so stupid because it's 1.) Eros pointing out how obvious Apollo's plan was, despite Apollo acting smart two seconds ago with a goddess who, mind you, has been a goddess for ten years, and 2.) patricide isn't even intrinsically linked to politics, there's nothing 'political' about a guy trying to kill his dad except in, idk, a monarchy, which again, Apollo has spent ten years trying to rise to power in as a president which is a completely different form of government.

If I wanted to be really granular with this, I'd like to think Apollo is making some kind of point about the critics who call out LO's whack as fuck political system (especially in the trial arc) - as if he's saying "well you're just a stupid reader and this is fantasy where you don't understand exactly what political system we're using, so shut the fuck up you stupid twig" - but I don't think it's meant to be that deep. I think it's just Rachel trying to write a smart character and then failing at it because she, herself, is not a smart writer. And I'm really inclined to believe that more than the theory about this being some kind of meta-narrative about the critics because this entire plotline is contrived and stupid down to its core.

I did not cut anything out here, that's the pacing. Leto literally just appears out of nowhere and uh oh spaghettio's, she has Kassandra! Remember Leto? The character we were led to believe was truly "pulling the strings" until she disappeared from the story completely after she realized that Apollo and Persephone weren't a thing, even going so far as to call out her own son for being a fucking dumbass? Well, she's back and once again she's being involved as some kind of "double agent" in this whole thing, even though we literally haven't seen her since halfway through S2.

"Mm yes, you're so stupid, falling into my trap! Even though you had no reason to remember Kassandra anyways because she's literally a mortal woman you just met and you yourself have committed acts of violence against mortals without a shred of care! I'm so smart! My plan is all coming together!"

We've never seen Apollo do anything except cry and poop his pants, the closest he got to being "powerful" was his attempts to murder Daphne (who he seems to have forgotten about in this "master plan" of his) but ultimately he's literally just a piss ant baby and there's no reason to believe that he could somehow outmatch the God of Love who can literally manipulate people's emotions and states of mind with his arrows. But yeah sure go off, you're so powerful and smart.

The worst part is, I can't even buy this as the narrative trying to be like "see how manipulative and conniving he is?" because it's just silly. We've SEEN this man cry with his victim complex, we've seen him say and do the DUMBEST things that don't lend to any amount of "intelligence" he may have, it comes across less as him being "smart the whole time" and more as him trying to sound smart but ultimately sounding incredibly stupid. And I can't even immerse myself into it and buy that maybe that's the point, because it doesn't feel like the point, it just feels like inconsistent writing, he doesn't feel like a 'threat', he's just monologuing.

Bad art and Apollo literally just repeating what Leto already implied so this is a waste of the audience's time.

This is the funniest panel in the whole episode because I can't tell if Apollo is supposed to be in the background (for some reason, despite him literally being in front of Eros and Psyche two seconds ago) or if he's in the foreground and just REALLY small for some reason. This is so off-putting. And of course, it's just Apollo explaining what we're ALREADY SEEING ONSCREEN.

You see, in addition to this episode being contrived, it also talks down to its audience a LOT by explaining exactly what we're seeing onscreen. It's like Rachel saw the criticisms about her not including enough to depict what's actually going on in her head and so she thought the solution was to spoon feed information over pictures that are already doing the job of explaining what's going on. Rachel really doesn't know how to write and even when she tries to implement changes that reflect criticisms that have been made of her writing, she somehow makes things worse because she completely misses the point of what those criticisms are trying to get across.

Anyways, without even trying to resist (for some reason) Eros and Psyche get sentenced to horny jail.

They're now trapped in a basement that Leto somehow has in her home. How do we know that?

HAHAHA FUNNY LAMPSHADING SO FUNNNYYYYYYY

Leto claims that they shouldn't try to escape because the dungeon is "enchanted", but she doesn't even bother to explain what that means. So they literally don't bother trying. They don't try to call her bluff, they don't try to teleport out of there, they literally just go "well shoot", shrug their shoulders, and accept their fate. Just like with the whole "we can't trust the only doctor we bothered to think of" situation, Eros and Psyche are turning out to be some of the stupidest, lowest-effort characters in this comic who literally can't be bothered to try because that would require too much brain power.

Notice how much time we've spent on this and we haven't gotten back to where the cliffhanger of the last episode left off? Well buckle up because there's still more to cover.

So it turns out Hebe was still inside with her dad, in FULL VIEW of what was going on through glass which is somehow COMPLETELY soundproof, and when Apollo steps inside, she just has no idea what happened. She never bothered to even look outside to see what was going on with Eros and Psyche, she's just been sitting on the floor staring at Zeus' dead face for what was likely several minutes, unless Rachel is seriously trying to convince us that conversation and hostage negotiation from earlier only took 2 seconds. The timeline is such a mess at this point that characters basically freeze in place as soon as they're not the focus of the scene.

Apollo rushes inside, acting shocked over the situation, and when Hebe asks where Eros and Psyche are (again, she could have just looked out the window at any time), he's just like "dur idk they just left lol" which Hebe just... buys, I guess.

That's just Persephone but yellow. She's even missing her beauty mark.

See how Apollo put his hand on Zeus' chest/shoulder by the way?

Apparently, despite Mr. Smarter Than Everyone Else trying to pretend it wasn't him, he's able to discern that Zeus is dying from a toxic and rare poison just from touching him. He doesn't even really seem to use his powers, he just touches him and goes "welp he's dead i guess lol don't bother asking me how I know that".

But oh nooo remember that note from before? Well gasp Apollo's gonna use it to frame Hebe! In front of no one else at all!

Hebe of course says she didn't write it, but Apollo continues to try and frame her anyways, even though, again, there's no one else present here, and so it effectively just becomes the most absurd form of gaslighting I've ever seen.

Again, THERE IS NO ONE ELSE HERE IN THE SCENE. He's just trying to claim she did it to absolutely no one at all, in the hopes of... what exactly? That she'll just take the fall for something she knows she didn't do? That she'll somehow be convinced? It's not like Hebe has the same thing going on as Persephone where she has a 'wrathful dark side' he could pin it on, this is just a criminal who just robbed a building pointing at the first person they see and yelling "YOU DID IT!"

All I'm saying is that Apollo would be really bad at Among Us. He'd be the type of player to kill someone, hit the report button, then claim yellow did it which, even if he DID convince the rest of the team, would still get kicked anyways as soon as yellow was proven through the eject to not be the imp and everyone would go "okay cool so yellow wasn't the imp, that means obviously it's purple self-reporting." It's a trick that doesn't even work anymore because of how old it is. Hebe isn't a child here, she's an 18 year old woman who should be fully capable of raising an eyebrow and wondering why Apollo is this quick to accuse her - almost like he's trying to hide the fact that he did it.

But Hebe can't catch onto this, just like Eros and Psyche, she has to act stupid for the sake of the plot.

At first I thought maybe Rachel was trying to do some "whodunit" scenario, but that doesn't work here because we already know who did it. And while there are stories that exist like that that pull it off (ex. Knives Out) the problem with trying to do this the way Rachel did is that the person being framed has to have this thing called motive. The reason why Knives Out and Glass Onion work so well is because the person who was murdered (or conspired against) is someone who is being targeted by multiple people who could all be the murderer. It's quite literally called out in Glass Onion as a form of smart lampshading. "It's like putting a loaded gun on the table, and turning off the lights."

But it doesn't work here because Hebe does not have motive. If you're going to attempt to frame a murder on someone, it has to be someone who would have reasonable motive to commit that murder, even if they didn't actually commit it.

And who among Zeus' children has motive?

What about the war-mongering bloodthirsty god of war who has been regularly sentenced to time in the Mortal Realm to fight in wars in which he's been regularly injured?

What about the chaos-seeking wrathful goddess who would do it to get revenge on the parental figure who cast her aside, or even just for the fun of saying she did it?

Why try and pin it on Hebe, the doting daughter of Zeus who's only had a collective of maybe 20 panels in the entire comic?

But then I realized... it's not Knives Out, it's the fucking Lion King.

Which is just as contrived - if not more - than the assumption this was gonna be some attempt to frame Hebe. It's not. He's literally just trying to keep her from assuming it was him. He could have just as easily played dumb without calling attention to the note but he intentionally went out of his way to try and be Scar from The Lion King , while completely missing the point of why that scene worked in the original movie.

Scar wasn't trying to 'frame' Simba for Mufasa's murder. He was trying to hide the murder, while also attempting to get the only heir to the throne out of the picture, so he passed the guilt of the death onto Simba - a child who, unlike Hebe, wouldn't have the ability to rationalize or realize his uncle his a scumbag - who then ran away from home because he was too terrified to face his family for what happened, assuming that it was all his fault when it wasn't.

That's not how this is panning out here. Hebe is the now 18 year old daughter of Zeus, and not one of his only children. She doesn't even fit into the whole "sons overthrowing their fathers" prophecy like Aries would. Apollo is literally just being a big idiot here by saying "well I'm gonna give you a headstart to run away, because if you stay, I might hurt you" (which btw, should be MORE of a smoking gun that Apollo did it??)

And again, it's all so contrived so that the plot can move forward. "Well I'm going to frame you for this murder, but y'know, you should just leave, I'm not gonna try and press it further lmao"

Again, Apollo is a fucking idiot here, because he just attempted to frame someone who has NO MOTIVE to harm Zeus, to absolutely NO ONE at all who would side with him, only to let her go which would leave her to question why Apollo would try to accuse and harm her in the first place before considering other options. And through ALL this he claims he's the smart one, which I can't even be bothered to "love to hate" because it's written so poorly.

And really it all comes down to how everyone else behaves in relation to Apollo that makes it so stupid and unbelievable. Apollo, you're not smart just because all the characters around you are intentionally being written to be as stupid and non-confrontation as possible. If you can only write a smart villain by making everyone else stupid, you haven't written a smart villain, you've written a dumbass whose victory only happens due to contrived plot convenience. It's not even done well like in Glass Onion, it's just bad writing, full stop.

And who does he call to report this emergency? The satyr police? His son the doctor?

No.

The media. Literally just "hello, the media?? I need your best journalist here stat!"

I need you to understand, even if he were calling a tabloid magazine like The Weekly Nark, you don't just... call a journalist to report a murder. These are not the actions of someone who's trying to absolve himself of guilt, these are the actions of a complete dumbass trying to get news coverage of his trophy kill who would be better off just playing dumb instead of trying to play smart. Even Walter White wasn't this fucking stupid despite all the times he fell on his own sword, Apollo is literally just instigating suspicion towards himself for no reason at all. He's self-reporting so hard and worst of all, you can't even take any of this seriously because of how corny it is. There's no dramatic tension, no stakes, it's just a bunch of characters performing in a really bad stage play and reducing every conflict to "well I guess Zeus is just dead now because no one's bothering to make an effort to stop Apollo or ask questions lmao"

It's truly the epitome of "this plot wouldn't exist if characters would just talk to each other."

But finally, FINALLY we mention the thing this episode is named after, the transition point to Persephone.

Just like with the midseason finale episode, there's a lot to cover here, so I'm gonna get more into it in a part two post.

That said, you can see already this is the messiest, most contrived bullshit to ever wind up in LO. It's trying so hard to be smart and it just comes across as a bunch of toddlers in the world's worst stage play rendition of Clue. None of what was done here was in any way dramatic or tense, it's just a bunch of characters infodumping shit we already know, trying to set up new plot threads that don't make any sense, and allowing one another to get away with what they're doing because they don't bother to even try.

It's completely manufactured, contrived nonsense. It's not "smart", it's not "so dumb it's brilliant", it's just dumb.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Gangsters Win

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Delayed October reviews included this week! (Still traveling but now in home territory and familiar hotels.)

Nov 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) 2 of 8 - GIVING ME LIFE. How dare they be this… this... Just. How dare!

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 1 of 10 - I have been waiting for another truly sports centered BL since HIStory 2: CTL. This is nowhere near as good, but I don’t care. It’s great pulp and Sprite is a fab central character. I've realized that I love the pulps most when they’re ridiculously soapy (identical twins identity trope for sport’s fuck’s sake) but ERNEST about it (not campy). This one is taking itself seriously and it's so cute that it's trying so hard. Good little pulp. Dee mar.

Dangerous Romance (Fri YT) ep 12fin - was it me or did this show kinda flag on you too?

Poor, struggling Sailom is forced to tutor his bully, Kang, and they fall for each other despite circumstances. I loved it for the first 4 eps, liked it for the middle 4, and then kinda lost interest. I think it's because the focus shifted from Sailom to Kang, and I just find a disenfranchised character more interesting than the poor little rich kid archetype. Ultimately the script waffled and failed these actors - the leads and sides were solid, and support cast on point. 8/10 pretty standard 2023 GMMTV fair

Absolute Zero (Thai Weds iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - It’s sort of a paradox of emotions not just time. It remains sad and I remain wary. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) The Camp Fire ep 11 of 24 - Launched with an argument over rude pronouns and mistaken identity. Highlights the joy of camping. Ugh. I don't think this one is for me despite the pair.

Venus in the Sky (Tues iQIYI) ep 10fin - NO SINGING. I can't believe they brought in rando SIDEs just to sing! WHHHHYYYYY? Sigh.

An indifferent pulp with indifferent acting and poor chemistry (despite high heat) based on the reunion romance trope that was just... so... slow... It wasn’t entirely a waste of time but I can’t in good faith recommend it. unless you have a very high tolerance for Thai pulps and ultra tsundere characters. 5/10 ONLY WATCH IF YOU'VE NOTHING BETTER TO DO

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Tues Viki & iQIYI) ep 12 of 13 - I don’t mean to be rude because you know I love the main couple in the show, but they are simply being out acted by the sides. They are so damn good. Ai Di and his dumb oversized sweaters and flappy flappy sleeves is EVERYTHING.

Bump Up Business (Korea Gaga) 5-6 of 8 - More language negotiation, so of course I like it. I also like that they openly let Eden admit to a crush on a boy. I like this whole thing way more than I should. Save me from myself?

You Are Mine (Taiwan Fri Viki) eps 9 of 10 - I don’t understand why baby boy is trying to escape so badly. (Except for plot reasons.) Running of the gays! Look at you Taiwan stealing Japan’s favorite trope. This show is fun but it’s a bag of tropes held together with some very thin fraying mesh plot. 

If It’s With You AKA Even If I Fall In Love With You AKA Kimi to nara Koi wo Shite Mite mo’ (Japan Gaga) ep 5fin - The leads are so painfully cute portraying a softly simple story of teen first love. This was a nice little piece with an early yaoi feel that come off as brief, as if it were meant to be a short story that had been extended into a series. Sweet but ultimately rather forgettable. 7/10  

Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 6-7 of ? - yeah I forgot to watch again, I may be dnfing this by accident.

It's Airing But...

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) - in classic JBL fashion, I Cannot Reach You could not be reached. It looks good though so I mgiht put some effort into finding it grey.

Look at Japan dropping all the tropes in on scene: rooftop, kabedon, hand hold.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 1-7 of 14 - this is a horror BL with ghosts & paranormal elements in a boarding school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools. I'm holding off on this one and if told it's good I'll binge watch.

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) - adaptation of Harada’s manga of the same name (which I did not like) about a convenience store clerk who's stabbed, nearly dies, and returns home to find an angel waiting for him. With only 5 eps and a good chance this won’t end happy, I'm gonna wait and let you tell me how it goes.

Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine? AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan cinema release in-country only) - This one is a movie from Japan so in customary fashion who tf knows when (or if) it will get international distribution. Salaryman Ayumu Koiwai just can't tear his eyes away from the strong, muscular man as he checks on the stocks of the vending machine in his office. I did some hunting but only found the manga, so I'm marking it cnf and moving on with life. This will be its last appearance on the weekly update.

I Finished It!

Love in Translation (iQIYI) ep 8 - solid ending, man these two are a great pairing.

A sweet little pulp about a Thai boy with a crush on a Chinese influencer who ends up in a business relationship with her ex-bf. This show had truly great chemistry between the leads, cute found family with good rep, and an exciting (if silly) ending that almost, but didn't quite, make up for how incredibly annoying the main character was in the first half. Gotta say the make-out scene in the convenience store is one of the greatest in Thai BL, tho. 6/10 DEF WORTH WATCHING BUT FLAWED

I Feel You Linger in the Air (grey) ep 8 of 12 - so that was A THING. I did a seriously extensive deep dive analysis, historical & linguistic extras, and review here.

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

Only Friends (YT) ep 11-12 - What can I say, this wasn't my thing, it was never gonna be, and I didn't like it. Basically Thailand did the L-Word but with branded BL pairs and the only agenda seemed to be slut shaming and making sure those pairs stayed healthy and sponsor ready. Consequently, the pairs were all executing well and to the best of their ability (of course) but all other characters got shafted, both in the good and the worst possible ways. Unrated but if falls somewhere between 5 (hot mess) and 3 (what am I doing with my life?)

Next Week Looks Like This

11/10 Middleman’s Love (Thai Fri Mandee's YT & iQIYI 1 of 8? - TutorYim (brand pair origin = Cutie Pie) with side couple KingUea (Bed Friends) from Domundi trailer here. This used to be a JimmyTommy vehicle before the pair split (also prev title Middle Love). Adapted from a Y-novel. Jade works as a graphic designer and has always been stuck in the middle - average. His heart is hardened after a life spent being overlooked because he is not as charming or good looking as the rest of his family or friends. When his office gets a hot new intern, Mai, Jade assumes Mai couldn’t possibly be intersted in him. Mai, of course, has other ideas. Warning this is a Cheewin comedy so tonally it could be very OFF, but the cast is solid, and I have liked his stuff on occasion.

11/10 Last Twilight (Thai Fri YouTube) - JimmySea are bakc and maybe it's good this time? I dont' know, GMMTV isn't doing great right now. Burdened with heavy debt, Mork, a mechanic, is forced to take a high paying job as a caretaker for Day, a rich heir who suffers from partial blindness after an accident. Day recruits Mork as he realizes the latter does not see him as a disabled person, but rather as co-equals. As they spend time together, the two begin developing feelings for the other. However with Day just having 180 days until he becomes permanently blind, how will the two weather the trials ahead?Upcoming November BL

11/11 Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) qp 1 of 8 - Looks like House of Stars meets Boyband. I am not excited.

Upcoming in November

11/16 PLAYBOYY (Thurs ????) ?? eps - trailer here, high heat and it's helmed by Cheewin (shudder) with screenplay by Den (Only Friends) under Copy A Bangkok. It's gonna be a shizz show people. It's predicting Thai style "dark" (War of Y) one of my least favorites. Apparently there is a "plot" but when has Cheewin ever bothered with plot? A university kid who was involved with escorts, sex-trade, porn, online hook-ups, drugs, prostitution, blackmail, revenge, and so forth goes missing. His twin (sigh) and two friends look for him.

11/17 Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 14 - high heat teaser here, based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing (author says show will not be omegaverse). Charlie (fresh face), a young hot nerd, approaches his driver idol (Pavel "my love" 2 Moons 2) to borrow a racing car and win one for the team. Production house is new to BL but behind the Club Friday stuff. Show stars many known actors: Nut (Oxygen), Pop (Ram in La Cuisine), Pon (Phai in Gen Y, we LOVE him), Benz (twins in En of Love: This Is Love Story).

11/19 Bake Me Please (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - trailer here, stars Ohm (of OhmFluke) opposite Guide (bestie from IFYLITA) and possibly also Poom (well known, but not for BL). This looks like an actually gay version of Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). Still, I'm intrigued, it looks HELLA pretty.

11/22 7 Days Before Valentine (Weds ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). When you want your old love again, but fate sends you a reaper instead. All he can do for you is kill people. I'll likely give this a pass and wait to binge later. I'm planning to try SHADOW and I can only handle one Thai horror at a time.

11/25 The Sign (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk, but with a suspense and adult characters. Special investigators who loved each other in previous lives reunite with their new bodies, stars Billy Patchanon (BillySeng) & Babe Tanatat (new). Includes other SCOY favorites as a special investigation team. I may give this a try because I like the non-horror bits.

11/26 The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - trailer here. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. Maybe a binge for me.

11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs ????) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer, I suspect iQIYI will scoop this one up. From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in! Maybe I'll do a trash watch?

VIP Only (Taiwan) - may be delayed/canceled

Wuju Bakery AKA Space Bakery (Korea) - this one may be DOA

A Breeze of Love (Korea) - I know less than nothing about this.

Nov 2023 line up with screen caps here. Not kept updated.

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Yang's little smile! Argh. (Love in Translation)

This is our mean and grumpy gagster character talking about playing in game support roles. It's fucking adorable. Such a nasty criminal. (My Dear Gangster Oppa)

(Last week)

[beegalactica]

HOT GIRLS ARE CONSCIOUS.

I haven't been on Tumblr in about 3 months (life has been busy), and when I finally decided to check back in today, I kept seeing the same thing over and over again, so I am here to dispel some myths.

If you have seen any of my posts, you will know the issues I have with traditional TikTok-y trendy 'glow-up' advice, but today I realised how much of it is just a ploy to get us to spend tons of money on things we CAN live without. I think we all need to be more CONSCIOUS: conscious of what we can realistically afford and implement into our daily lives.

For example, in a typical 'glow-up' advice post, tiktok or youtube video, they recommend these super unrealistic routines that include a full skincare routine of every type of cream you could ever imagine, and an incredibly detailed list that lays out how you need to spend every 10 minutes of your day in order to achieve this perfect form.

It's all hear-say.

Don't get roped into thinking that you need those brand new clothes, or you need those skincare items to be your best self. The idea of turning your 'glow-up' into a sustainable part of your life is to do things you can manage to do over and over again. The secret to glowing up permanently is having a routine that keeps you happy and healthy. Instead of buying a full shelf of skincare all in one go, get 1 or 2 items with positive reviews to start. You don't need to throw out your whole wardrobe and sell your soul to TEMU just to look aesthetic; use what you have. Rather than making short term impulsive purchases, treat every part of your life as an investment.

Especially when it comes to clothing, being someone who has lost weight and no longer fits into all their old clothes, instead of throwing everything out and starting from scratch, I bought a little amazon sewing kit with a couple of needles and different types of thread and started cutting and sewing my way to a better wardrobe. (Even TODAY, I turned an old pair of jeans that I never wear into a cute miniskirt all from a 5 minute YouTube tutorial.) If sewing isn't your thing, you can try using some hemming tape and an iron, fabric glue, or whatever you can. Be conscious of the things you buy and how often you buy them.

I know lots of people like thrifting, and you can thrift online with apps like Vinted, which I personally use and love, if you don't have access to massive thrift stores like they do in America (I'm totally not jealous at all 🙄🙄; I live in the UK and the closest things I have near me are charity shops but there's a sort of stigma around shopping in them but honestly who cares what others think).

When you shop for clothes, look for timeless and versatile pieces you can mix and match, layer and style with lots of different things, allowing you to wear them well. Try to find good staple pieces, that will make the basis of your wardrobe. Be an outfit repeater. Do not blindly follow trends; take the time to curate and explore to find your style. Make a massive Pinterest board of everything you think looks good, and start to make a list of common items of clothing and accessories you save the most; these will be your staples. Don't feel like you have to stick strictly to one aesthetic; my wardrobe ranges from 'fairycore' maxi skirts to y2k denim skirts, but what matters is that I am mindful of whether I will use the things I want to buy.

Of course, feel free to treat yourself, you 100% deserve it, but don't get sucked into the idea that your self worth is determined but WHAT you have; instead it should be how you FEEL in what you have.

I like to see my blog as a little notebook of things I wish I could have told my younger self, and things I want to remind my future self, and I feel like it would be a disservice to not talk about the oversaturation of our feeds with infinite products, to the point where everything feels like an AD.

Moral of the story: don't just take everything you see online at face value. Don't get trapped in extensive consumerism; it's bad for your bank account, it's bad for the environment and it's bad for your mental health.

Also here's my Pinterest if you want to have a peek around <3 Pinterest

[mirandyficlists]

Hi hi! I’d like to know what your Top 10 Holy Grail fics are? Like I’m talking about fics you would reccommend in a heart beat, fics that you feel are written extremely well that they feel like they should be published or something, fics that have really good pacing, right amount of fluff, angst, or smut. Or even ones that are just silly and fun. It would be cool to read some of your favs!

Hey Nonnie

First my standard answer to the top ten query...10!!! 10!!! You think i can narrow it down to 10!! LOLOLOL

Secondly, I'm flattered you want to know my preferences as a guide...but then that's what my spreadsheet is all about I guess. lol

Okay I did manage to keep myself to 30 fics and I will say I would live quite happily if the first 10 were all I was ever allowed to read for the ret of my life. Just saying. Heh

I've also included my reviews of each fic from my Spreadsheet of 2250+ Mirandy fics to explain my love for the fics.

If you want the fics that are no longer online just message me privately with your email and I'll send my zipped file of deleted Mirandy fics your way.

Happy Reading Nonnie

All the Breast

XVNot15

Top ten and why?

The Lady And Her Dragons by Bearblue https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738811/chapters/51860098

(WIP) OMG!!!!!!!!!!  So amazingly wonderful and magical and well just damned hot!  Full of myth and magic, Miranda and Cruella are real Dragons and Andy is their Lady. Magical machinations and battles ensue. The story is compelling and Bearblue controls the content of magical information absolutely beautifully, you're interest is captured, but you're not over whelmed with more information than what is required for the story she is telling.  Again it has to be said. OMG!!! I have now read this fic over 500 times…and I mean that! Have read it once a week and sometimes 2 or 3 times a week for more than a decade.

Truth and Measure by Telanu https://archiveofourown.org/works/779826/chapters/1468543

The downfall of my anti Mirandy life that dragged me kicking and cursing into the heart of the Mirandyverse. This is what I call a Simchat Torah story. Much like the holiday in which the last chapter of Torah is read and then the first chapter immediately afterward to start the cycle again. And that's just what I did with this one. Miranda discovers after the separation with Stephen that she is pregnant and as she copes with that Andy helps her and eventually Miranda proposes a mutually beneficial relationship...which Andy then proceeds to turn on its head almost immediately. Excellently written and adored the characterisations of both women.

It’s All Relative by Hawkbehere https://archiveofourown.org/works/5884348/chapters/13561771

OMFG!! This is an amazing story. Well written and excellently paced as well. Post Paris H/C piece where Miranda is shot and Andy runs to her side to help and care for her.. A very complex and interesting characterisation of both M and A. The hints at Sub/dom with true love and respect were pitched absolutely meltingly perfect And the passion of Miranda's need for Andy is mind blowing.

Small Favors Series  by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793701/chapters/6270377

Andy wins a press award and sees Miranda. They talk and Andy acknowledges her feelings to herself. Andy sends a lily as a thank you. Hot first kiss in the conference room at the Mirror. The girls are very supportive as the relationship develops. INTERLUDE - Hot late night quickie in Miranda's office.  BEAUTIFUL THINGS - sees the development  of the relationship through some early rough spots. They're outed by Miranda's PR firm. Loved the twins with their pudding balloon bombs. HERE TO STAY - GOOD FORTUNE –

Fur No Thanks I’d Rather Go Naked by Writtensword (Deleted but I have the fic and can send it.)

Ooooooooooo so totally wonderful this story read it 3 times one after the other. Miranda is magically turned into a Mink and only Andrea can hear her speak and she takes care of her as they try to undo the spell. The characterisation of Mink Miranda is sooooooooooooooo terrific I want more Mink tales. heh  Lovely denoument when Miranda turns back to her human form.

Like Andrea Series by Ginstan https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940092

Ooooooooooooooo romance, mystery, intrigue and damn fine writing! Loved this fic! Andy is alerted to the fact that Miranda needs help when Runway does an edition where every single model looks like her. She comes to Miranda's rescue and their relationship develops super fast and super beautifully..  And beautiful mini FOL crossover! heheh I adore the characterisations of a vulnerable Miranda and a very soft butch Andy.

A Failure to Communicate by thelastgoodname https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300144

Miranda decides to Marry Andy and is busy dictating the plans to Andy just one problem... She hasn't actually asked Andy out on a date yet or anything else.  Cue a very confused Andy and a backpeddling Miranda. Ohhh my aching sides!!!! This is just soooooooooooo funny and sooooo well written.It's just brilliant!

Admiration by Punky_96 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936337

Swooooooooooon!! Total romance and way HOT sex too! Miranda has a secret (not to us though) admirer who is leaving her daily gifts and notes. She becomes smitten and isn't quite sure until the big reveal.  Beautifully written and I loved it, but it ends rather abruptly.

The Brutal Truth by Redcharcoal (Removed as it was published…both are AWESOME! FF is available in the FB Mirandy Group and in my deleted fic file.)

Wonderfully well written piece. Miranda claims to only want the Brutal truth and ends up having a bet with Andrea that she can't get an exclusive interview with a famous designer and the stakes are one day of absolute honesty for Andrea and one week for Miranda. Andy outs Stephen as a predator and Miranda fires her...but then she gets the exclusive interview with the Deuchamps and they become her friends.

Miranda’s Runway series by Jehc https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242412/chapters/2552452

Oh the joy of a well written and well crafted characterisation piece.  Love this 4 years post Paris piece with Andy having a daughter she has actually named Miranda but who she calls Mandy who is somehting of an artistic prodigy. Andy has written a series of amazingly successful books on fashion but remains anonymous until she trades her privacy to foil Irvs latest almost successful coups against Miranda.  Things follow on from there, when little Mandy meets Randa and they fall for each other as hard as Miranda falls for Andrea.  Amazing fic.

The Fall and the Landing & 90 Days to Glory by Brithna/Ash_Mountain https://archiveofourown.org/works/481161

Warning: Character Death. My God almighty what a powerful piece of writing! This is not fanfiction, this is life, this is the most skillful playing of all that it is to be human, fragile, and to hold friendship and love as the reward for the pain and challenge that those prizes intrinsically bring with them. Have tissues ready, and be prepared to read with your heart and know that love is the force that truly connects all life.

On a Tractor by Bearblue https://archiveofourown.org/works/11696331/chapters/26333922

OMG! Absolutely brilliantly written long post Paris piece. Andy lends up inheriting a farm which she decides to run and she becomes quite the nature photographer as well. Miranda wants her farm for a photoshoot and goes out to visit and things take their natural course. Bear's writing is incredibly fluid and tinglingly evocative. Love the characterisation of Andy in this one. A Simchat Torah - immediate re-reader.

Break it Down With Joy by Winter156 https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394080

A drabble that is sheer perfection. A and M are friends, Andy has declared her love but Miranda has stated that they will never have a physical relationship, Andy stays anyway, suffering the pain of incompleteness, until that moment of decision. Excellently written, and soooo poignant.

By Heart by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673044/chapters/5976851

Swooooooooooon, mushfest!! With lovely hot sexiness too. A H/C tale where Andy ends up with a broken leg on a ski weekend and Miranda cares for her in their cabin as they get snowed in for a couple of days and the heating fails heheh. But there is a fireplace and while 'keeping warm' one thing leads to another.

Basic Black by Beachbum https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045490

Brava BB, a lovely piece set post Paris. Nigel who has stayed friends with Andy decides to play matchmaker for the two women in his life. The description of Andy's suit was totally droolsome. And the love scene, wow, took my breath away. Loooooooooved the ending, god Miranda in nothing but a white dress shirt, but still so totally confident and in control of the situation. Yowsa!!

Disarming Athena by Politic X https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921940/chapters/26942895

Wonderful but sometimes distressing psychological exploration that occurs between Miranda and Andy. Many of the interactions take place in the elevator. Miranda appears to be torturing Andy with invitations and demands for her to touch her clothes but not her. Then she fires Andy and this behaviour continues as Andy works her notice.  Eventual happy ending.

Hidden Yet Bright by needled_ink https://archiveofourown.org/works/97340

Swoooooooooooooon, a beautiful and well written short of a developing friendship gently shifting into more but without strings. Loved the chartacterisations of both Andy and Miranda.

In Some Quite Casual Way by Winter156 https://archiveofourown.org/works/621060/chapters/1120824

Holy mother of mountains what a fic. From a request for a story that involved a character with wings. Miranda is a fallen angel of sorts and saves Andy when she falls out a skyscraper window. Declarations of love, and serious sweaty snugglebunnies followed by major storyline and escellent denouement. Gret writing, amazing story, just amazing.

Lost Treasures by Jazwriter  (Removed as it was published…both are AWESOME! FF is available in the FB Mirandy Group and in my deleted fic file.)

  Wow! Andy works as a sales clerk and then a Window dresser in  a small boutique. Her window designs cpature Miranda's attention and fascination. She takes Andy under her wing and mutual attraction sparks. Great little fic.

Objects and Space by Stormashke https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126698

Absolutely Stunning!!!!  Compellingly written with just the right meter and timing. Wonderful internal dialogue from Miranda's pov in an established relationship. She travels through the different rooms of the house noting the evidence of Andy's presence that still bug her…but also noting their indications of Andy's space in her heart and the twins heart and the things she will live with in that space of love.

Rebellious Lock & When Locks Get Locked by Quiethearted http://ralst.com/RebelliousLock.HTM

Ohh soooooooo funny!!!! Miranda's hair has a mind of it's own and it's concentrating on one particular brunette. This is comic writing at it's best. I'm still chuckling.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee, sequel!  Woohoo, Miranda's hair has awakened an interest from Andy's hair and all is set for the clash of the tresses. Oh soooo wonderfully funny, I so hope this series continues, I want postcoital follicle frolics. Heheh

Sharp Relief by chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672990/chapters/5976701

AMAZING fic!!!!! Wow Andy gets a call reporting that Miranda has died in a car crash on her way to her weekend cabin. She goes into shock and faces the fact of how much she loved her. She helps with the twins and stays at the townhouse until there is another call that send her and the girls out into the night chasing a hope agaisnt hope.  So amazing this.

The Lily and the Crown by Telanu (now published) https://archiveofourown.org/works/750438/chapters/1400746

Andren is the reclusive daughter of one of the Empires most capable Station Masters. Assistant - her new slave is the dread space Pirate Queen Mir. Seduction, debauchery, abandonment and redemption in this Space Swashbuckler.Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Gaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwdddddddddd!!!!!!!!!  Wow!!!! Fluids!!!!!!! This is just soooooooooooo wonderfully hot and romantic and hot and well good god I loved it. Okay, perhaps the Andren character was a little bit tooo clueless, but perhaps wonderfully evocative of another time. Still it was a great story and really interesting.

Unexpected Grace by Silverie https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9092005/1/Unexpected-Grace

Amazingly well written fic starting with amazing dream sequances of ancient days and a Goddess/priestess Miranda, perfectly mirrored in a waking world of events. Andy expands her life into music when she comes to own a beautiful guitar decorated with a dragon...linking to her desire for a certain dragon lady.  Lyrically written. Brilliant!!!!

A not exactly storybook romance by writetherest https://archiveofourown.org/works/923207/chapters/1793725

An AU where Andy is independently wealthy and owns a book store which Cassidy starts to visit daily as Andy befriends her. Eventually Miranda and she meet and after a bad decision it's a wonderfully sweet love story. Absolutely wonderful romance done here, adore the shier sweeter Andy.

Farsighted by emeraldorchids https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129537/chapters/14047437

Excellent mid length piece. All from Miranda's pov, chronicling how she and Andrea slip into a wonderful and easy friendship after Paris, that several months later morphs into more. What I love is the realness of Miranda in this fic as a full fledged human being all balance and counter balance with strengths and weaknesses.  And I enjoyed the reality check and stunned Miranda after Andy kisses her. As well as the gradual exploration afterward. The upshot with the page six comment picture in bed is a perfect ending.

Four Corners by Chillyflame https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039309/chapters/2073686

Truth be told, this is a ten star effort. I looooved it! A phenomonally wonderful piece, well written and amazingly characterised. All told from Cassidy's pov as she lives her parents divorce, the advent and demise of Stephen and the new and wonderful inclusion of Andy in her mother's and the twins lives.

Caught Between the Moon and New York City Series  by Punky_96 https://archiveofourown.org/series/1027544

Brilliant story of Miranda as a werewolf and pack leadercaptured by a secret research facility that captures and studies paranormal creatures where Andy works.  Grat adventure unfolds as they escape and Andy's true nature is discovered. Excellently written and intriguing backstory.

After Dark by LiteraryAssasin https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560673/chapters/48807857

A wonderfully characterised slow burn, friends to lovers fic. Well written and engaging of course, from an excellent bard. Andy grows a backbone in the best and most proactive way…almost swapping some of her softness for some of Miranda’s firmness so that they can both balance themselves and each other. I adored Miranda’s oh so careful way of helping Andy while trying also not to overwhelm her with that help.  A nifty little sub pairing of a mirrored couple is so seamlessly done it’s just amazing.  Also touches on an idea I’ve had for quite some time…may have to dust that one off.

If and When by Kamuraskan https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821418/chapters/29271045

WOOT!!! No greater love hath a Bard for another Bard than to make an offering in a completely unfamiliar fandom. (Thanks Gin.) Most wonderfully well written and amazing Disaster/survival fic. Andy uncovers a terrorist plot to blow up the EC building the night the VP is attending a party there. She isn't believed by Homeland security so she approaches the new CEO of EC...Miranda they manage to evacuate the building but are still on the 20th floor when the bombs go off....suspense, love and amazingness commence.

[mikhailwrites]

MWIII Campaign thoughts&opinion

⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD (OBVIOUSLY)⚠️

Alright, here we go. Modern Warfare III. Disclaimer: I've been part-timing as videogame journalist (not in EN, obviously) for the past 10 years so this might read a bit like a review which this is not.

It's been a year since we watched the 141 sit in the bar in Chicago and look at the photo of one Vladimir Makarov. And the day of reckoning is finally here, at least for those of us with eaely access to the campaign.

The game opens, surprisingly, from the Konni perspective. As one of Konni soldiers, you infiltrate the prison to free your boss. First look at Makarov is menacing and leaves an impression.

Speaking of Makarov, however, I can't but feel like the writers had dropped the ball. It's obvious they were trying to go for the unhinged psychopath vibe but honestly, so many Makarov's lines borders on ridiculous, oftentimes crossing the line entirely. At times, I felt like I'm watching an old 007 villain and I don't mean it in the good way.

Most glaring example was in the Flashpoint mission. As Price and Soap capture Makarov after bombing the stadium in Verdansk, the terrorist then taunts and mocks them, revealing to know their names and threatening them with a revenge. The dialogue is, frankly, on a bad side and Makarov in that scene sounded to me more like a spoiled, rich teenager than much feared leader of a private army with ambition to start another World War.

It also contrasted wildly with the continuation of the scene where we see Soap almost lose it, tackling Makarov and pressing a gun to his head while Price tries to dissuade him from killing the criminal on the spot. That bit was well executed and I really liked it.

What I also liked was the Passenger mission and the very unique perspective we got as players, feeling the helplessness of the victim as it's forced to play role of a terrorist, solely based on their ethnicity. The "You're not a terrorist, but you look like one," line felt very powerful, especially in the context of current affairs.

The whole campaign felt very rushed and, in my opinion, the total commitment to the "race against the clock" hurt the narration a lot. There is not a moment of respite and every piece of the puzzle is delivered in a manner so hurried, I sometimes had trouble following it.

Especially in the Danger Close mission as we, similarly to MWII, operate Shadow Company gunship to provide air support, and out of nowhere, we get a shout that there's a helo nearby and Makarov's in it.

We then proceed to shoot the helicopter down and Makarov is seemingly KIA. Well, he's obviously not but the whole scene is delivered in such a luckluster manner that I was wondering if I perhaps missed some cutscene or debrief (I didn't) and was asking myself if the developers are even serious.

The overall pacing is off, especially compared to MWII and this leads to the lack of impact and emotional response.

Which brings us to the more sensitive part of this post. Being a Ghost/Soap shipper, I was happy to see the two interact and to pick up the rapport established in the previous game. Like many others, I, too, would appreciate more time with them, but I would appreciate more missions and longer campaign rather than cut other characters' screen time.

When they are on the screen, banter is usually quick to follow. Soap and Ghost interact easily with each other, hinting at a natural progress of their relationship. The Milena interrogation is especially great in this regard.

And then there's that ending. Honestly, I knew someone would die. I think it was pretty much given. Still, I had my bets on Ghost, thinking that Soap was way too fresh and had his whole career ahead of him to be sacrificed. Well, I was wrong.

In the confines of the story, it makes sense it's him. There is major foreshadowing happening in the Verdansk mission and when Soap ends up going with Price at the end, well, it was clear. Soap almost killed Makarov years prior, Price stopped him, and now Makarov comes and kills Soap right in front of Price. The choices and consequences. It makes sense.

But.

But it serves no purpose. It's literally the last mission, so what could've served as the major catalyst for the big finale - rest of 141 coming for Makarov for some good old revenge - just ends up rather sour. Especially since Johnny, during his last struggle, as he saves Price's life, doesn't even manage to kill Makarov, only injuring him, albeit badly.

It gets worse when you realise that during both games, Soap didn't get any justice at all. In MWII, he seemingly kills Graves, taking a revenge for the betrayal and the Alone mission. Only for Graves to casually reappear later, stating he wasn't in the tank that the game clearly stated he was in.

And now he loses his life without taking Makarov with him. It's... beyond sad for the character to get treated this badly by the narration.

The team's response to his death is a bit mild as well. It starts well, with Ghost scrambling to him as soon as he spots him, feeling for vitals even though it has to be clear to him that he's gone, that felt gutwrenching. But after that? It's... lacking some stronger emotional response. They say their farewells to Johnny, a single sentence each (and, my god, did they truly think the "he was the best of us" clichè would work on any level whatsoever?), scattering his ashes, and that, too, as great as the animation was, just... felt a bit hollow and artificial.

There are ways to kill a beloved character to make it feel truly heartbreaking and meaningful. The scriptwriters here should've taken notes from Destiny 2's Forsaken DLC for example. They could've used Soap's death in a myriad of ways, including making player to choose between, say, saving Soap and letting Makarov escape. Or between saving Soap and defusing the bomb. Or just about dozen other narrative choices that would make Soap's death more meaningful and would have much bigger impact on the player.

As it is, I cannot help but say my own farewell words: Johnny died, but what for?

[dnp-pet-rectangle]

WAD reflection from the perspective of a theatre director

Inspired by @/calvinahobbes who did an amazing job breaking down the show’s metaphors & using her English degree in this post, I wanted to share my perspective on it (even a month later) & get use out of my theatre degree lol. Also, warning, this will be very much a long, long essay with run-ons. I have ADHD & I love when my frequent hyperfixations intersect 🤪 There are major spoilers.

My Background:

I am a semi-professional theatre director, but more broadly, a theatremaker. I have a theatre degree from New York University’s Tisch School on the Arts (NYU Tisch), where I did a conservatory program with one of their studios which focused basically on those who wanted to do a little bit of everything and create new works & was the only studio training directors & playwrights. I originally went into the program as a performer. I did not mean to end up concentrating on being mainly a producer & a director, but that’s a whole other story. I also through that program had to take theatre/performance studies courses, which I loved for the most part & is an interesting interdisciplinary field. But I will try to define terms just in case since anybody reading this may not know any or all the specific terminology I might use. In short, I have a fancy degree that apparently should cost $300k 🤡 & I’m gonna actually use it with doing this lol

--

Setting the Tone:

While Dan might call this a comedy special or comedy show, and thereby comparing it to other comedians, I actually think he is doing himself and We’re All Doomed (WAD) a disservice. I saw folks compare him a lot to Bo Burnham in the chat (who was actually was accepted and almost went to NYU Tisch for a different studio that focused on solely experimental work), which makes sense considering the theatrical nature of both of them. However, Dan actually goes further into the realm of theatre because of how he utilizes his crowd work (I’ll go into that later). I recognize traditional comedy specials/standup as having jokes or stories, when doing you know like late night talk show interviews, that can be made outside of the context of the show & slip into a conversation. Or with Burnham’s Inside Out, the songs & other parts can be done or understood mainly out of context, as seen through Bo uploading them to his YouTube channel. Comedy specials have the sections of their comedy stand-up thread together, but what Dan has done is weave his sections together. The length along with the intermission/interval being a part of WAD, adds to my point that he is not treating this as different material he tested out at different comedy clubs, but as something cohesive storytelling pieces. I think in terms of testing, Phil was the main sufferer audience member of the initial materials being created.

Anyway, you cannot as easily remove it from the context at certain points, because the transitions & the order of these different sections are treated as equally important, rather than a means to move on to the next section, with some possible space for improv.

Basically, I’m bi. Sorry, my brain started thinking about BIG when I started writing “basically” at the start of that sentence. Actually, what I am trying to say is that I would classify We’re All Doomed as a one-man performance piece/show, so I will be treating it as such in my review/reflection/breakdown. The comedy of it is important and there, but I don’t think it captures what WAD entirely is.

Also, unfortunately due to where I was at mentally at the time & the location it was being performed at, I never saw this live. To be honest, how it got framed marketing-wise did not help me feel connected with the actual purpose of the show, with hope being a key element. So while this was filmed, I am as much as possible trying to remove the cinematography as an element of my analysis. However, some things might be clearer on film, as with theatrical directing, you cannot add a zoom or crop & instead are trying to ensure moments are clear to an audience by what they see and hear through drawing their attention to it. With theatre being mainly about the live output by performers and intake by the audience, at the end of the day, what my job as a director is is to direct not only how the performers share the story, but also direct the audience on what is important to catch for understanding.

--

Breakdown of Thoughts

Originally, I wanted to rewatch the show again, and started to, but considering I ended up writing about a whole page worth of things for each minute of the show & I was sleepy by the time I was like 5-10 minutes in, I decided to be nice to myself & stay up all night in my comfortable bed instead of staying up all night at my desk trying to take in-depth notes 🙃

I’m gonna breakdown this analysis/reflection into further sections, just to give myself some anchors & break up the blocks of text. Also as a way to just be that pretentious, maybe with an academic flair, as is fitting to be for something about Dan Howell (said affectionately 💕)

The Script/Writing

When considering the text of the show itself, two things came to mind for me:

(1) This is definitely what I would call intertext. Intertext is a piece of writing that relates to another or more other writings through allusions. WAD is an intertext which alludes mainly to other works of Dan’s on his YouTube channel. The ability to get the true impact of the show relies on you knowing Dan (as his internet persona) on some level. And as a theatre maker & longtime fan, I love that it is, it’s what the piece needed to be. As a theatre producer, the hiatus from engaging with his audience and the limited runway given to reactivate interest in him and his creative work I think made it difficult to get that audience in some venues, along with some other funkiness (mainly with promo) I am less knowledgeable on. But I think Dan has already learned/continues to learn from that, which I think may have been valuable for him. (sidenote: I need the tea on all that because I love knowing how presenting venues work with performers, as well as the lack of understanding they have of internet culture as it relates to venue leadership.)

(2) This was a work he made for himself. He mentions this both in the show & in reference to WAD multiple times. But I think what truly came to mind for me was that it is still powerful for him to write for himself. He is writing for what he needs to be hearing or wants to be processing creatively.

I think why it is powerful is that Dan has discussed before how much stress he put on himself regarding danisnotonfire, and later Daniel Howell, videos, focusing on the audience, and how he was presenting a specific style/quality of video to them. Add in the layer of being closeted & actively fighting internalized homophobia, and the anxiety he built up makes sense. And I might personally attribute that more to his need to pass as straight & catering I believe at one point to an audience of cishet men, whether actual or perceived by him. Not all videos, especially the most impactful ones in my opinion, rely on this, but it was a key piece of what he made during his rise in popularity on the platform. This catering slowly decreased with the amount of uploads he was doing, along with a more tangible understanding of his audience thanks to the tours he did with Phil. Basically I’m Gay I think was the true shift where he gave himself permission to write work that had a main audience of himself. That’s where his best work has come from, and I think since then, he’s been able to have the space to process things creatively through his writing.

--

The Relationship Between Performer & Audience

When I was in theatre school, my directing teacher would constantly talk about not just considering the relationship of the performers on “stage” (I did a lot of more immersive work & we only had black box theatres, which is literally a room that is floor to ceiling black) but also the relationship of the performers & the story with the audience. By Dan knowing mainly who his audience would be, the show can now play with that understanding in mind.

This leads to my point that, overall, Dan does not use the fourth wall, and I think that is what makes We’re All Doomed work. It may also be why he called it a comedy show, idk.

For those who don’t know what the fourth wall is, it is a term from theatre originally that is about the way in which a traditional theatre stage (called a proscenium) has three physical walls around it, while there is no 4th physical wall, so the audience can see the performance. If does exist physically, it is only the curtain that acts as the 4th “wall”. So, in order to keep it as a separation between the performers and the audience, the actors treat the side where the audience is as a fourth wall. When someone breaks the 4th wall, this is when they speak to audience directly, rather than to another character. Examples from English-speaking pop culture would be the asides from Hamlet or Ferris Bueller in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. But when you are the only person on stage, the only way to have a fourth wall is when you don’t reference that you know there’s an audience there. Hence, a monologue where the character is talking to themselves or an entity that is not the audience directly (or assigned to be the audience by the director), it is the closest you can have a fourth wall when alone.

Dan in his videos and in his previous tours with Phil never were without direct engagement of the audience (obvious with the naming of Interactive Introverts). It was never not a variation on him speaking with the audience in any type of dialogue, even if done parasocially.

Some of that is not new to theatre, but I would say is that it has become more of a trend within new theatre starting in the early 2010s to have more interactivity and a more authentic, explicit message that no performance will be the exact same. I definitely saw that in the shows I saw both Off-Broadway (which sidenote, all that means is that there’s fewer seats in that theatre, not about quality of the work or how worth it is to engage with) and larger settings like Broadway and the West End. That’s what I love about theatre, and why my own work is more about immersion and direct audience engagement.

Now Dan’s creative works have never been skit only or interested in telling a story outside of the realm of connecting with an audience as a variation of himself, so again, him not using the fourth wall overall is appropriate and fits in with what I mentioned about intertext. The piece does however start with a fourth wall for the music number, which I will walk through fully sharing why I am saying that about the song & dance opening after establishing some other concepts to help build understanding.

--

Design Can Work With You or Against You

I just want to say out the gate that the design was done really well, and I immediately felt a need to emphasize it after watching the first 10 minutes again.

First, let’s talk about the orange & black aesthetic of the show. Dan may have simply said that the orange just looked cool, but I think I would attribute more meaning to that color. Orange brings to my mind at first instance both a bright happiness/warmth and a sense of caution and warning, like road signs (at least those in America). The themes of the show reflect these two ideas and plays with the tension between them. I don’t know if he or the team meant to have that be a conscious choice, but there’s a joke I’ve had with other directors of when they get complimented on something unexpected, they just nod and say “yes, that was a choice”, even though it was just a random thing that happened or was something that you just thought would be cool to do. Orange runs through the show’s designs and it becomes clear that it is a tool for contrast and emphasis for the points Dan & the director want to make.

Now with the design team of costumes, lights, sound, and media, I can see a clear cohesion. Good theatrical design has the designs act as a character or highlighter in the story. Bad theatrical design can take away/distract from the core intensions of the show. It was so clear to me that the design was a character. And seeing that there were two media designers make complete sense considering the labor lift of both creating the projections displayed, but also creating/filming pieces of the media itself. The music/sound and lighting work well to articulate the manic feelings it means to instill in the audience and seeing it as a director, I assume part of the creative discussion was about parts of the media played they wanted to make sure were heard, and the lights help catch attentions in service of those pulled out moments. For costumes, I think Calvina did well in her post at articulating the elements of the costume and the progression it goes throughout the show. I’d rather not take up space to say the same thing truthfully.

With all the design elements, I think three characters could be defined (not including the audience), two as main characters, and one as a supporting character. I would name the main characters as “the Circle” (the looming set piece throughout hosting the projections used throughout) and “Dan On Stage/Dan performing” (the one in the physical space) with the “voiceover Dan/inner voice Dan” as a supporting character. The voiceover only exists in the beginning, and it is only shared with us to demonstrate the way in which the Dan On Stage singing is not really that aggressively optimistic and wholeheartedly believes the words he is singing. He is not the Dan we know from the Internet, so we can cathartically laugh at the attempt to pretend everything is fine. The voiceover only has one role, and it is to force Dan to confront this breakdown has an audience.

--

Staging an Opening Sequence: Our First Stage Character is the Circle

In directing classes, often what you focus on is called stage pictures, which is meant to help you consider what the actual imagery you want to ensure the audience absorbs for their understanding of the piece. The first and last stage moment of each act should tell a basic story of what happened, and therefore, are heavily emphasized as important for directors. The Circle (capitalized for reference purposes) being lit up before the show starts and then again in conjunction with the light flashes and sound establishes the importance of the Circle to the show. When the projection comes into play, showing the speech of a 15-year-old Greta Thunberg before beginning to add more, we are then introduced to the purpose of the Circle to be an output/portal for the overstimulation of messages, in this case, I would claim it being what comes from the Internet.

The music/sound and lighting work well to articulate the manic feelings it means to instill in the audience and seeing it as a director, I assume part of the creative discussion was about parts of the media played they wanted to make sure were heard, and the lights help catch attentions in service of those pulled out moments. The Circle also through some of the lighting moments, mimic that of a clock, which again adds to the doomsday, the "end is near" type energy. To have the end of the opening sequence build to an explosion which then shows solid orange at the end while Dan is in silhouette begins the introduction to the orange emphasis & proposes a sort of prophet-like version of him after the apocalyptic imagery disappears as he rises to be seen. What we have opened with is setting the tone to how we should view these two characters of the Circle & the Dan on Stage.

--

Song Time!

Dan is such a theatre kid & I love that for him. His dramatic side shows through the moment he used a rise to start his show at the top of the stairs, first in a place of seriousness with the sharp lighting and smoke to then bring in a very happy music number. The contrast & switching of expectations is a key of comedic works, and shows through most of the phandom who did not know WAD started with that, as it is indeed funnier if it comes as a shock. The movement & music mimic what folks attribute to as musical theatre, which is campy, happy singing. Knowing he was the one who suggested the song for TATINOF, I am loving Dan clearly wanting to have that opening number of a musical moment, even if it is dripping in irony. The Circle & the lights in this acts as a supporter to the message of it being sunshine and rainbows, with literal rainbow lights included. (Sidenote: I am 99% sure the pigeon coo is Phil, so if anything, I’m disappointed he was not credited as Pigeon sound effect AND remote crisis manager. Idk why I could tell, but both times now, it’s what I immediately thought when hearing that part)

I think of the musical number as the only place where he does have a fourth wall, because the number does not directly reference the audience at the start. It’s a one-man moment and it is about the performance not the audience engagement. It starts falling away when he starts pointing out the “and you”s, but the voiceover is the real break in our understanding of the world. It is emphasized by the color inversion of the sun & sky media of the Circle. The director is saying, this is important to how you now interpret what you’ve seen & will see, this is another shift from what was established of this world.

I should mention “world” is the terminology used to name what the environment the story is being told in with consideration, especially in theatre, of how much of a need there is for suspension of disbelief. I believe this term is also referenced a lot when discussing the fantasy and sci-fi genres, since those also requires some distancing from reality for the audience. This ties into a phrase I will probably end up using a lot of “rules of the space”. When establishing this world for the show you are presenting to an audience, there is a type of logic that must be established in order to understand what is the baseline for what the audience will be engaging with over the span of the show. But the voiceover immediately changes the rules of the space, because it messes with the Dan on stage, and messes with the messaging of the Circle. It adds a new context to the Dan On Stage, as while a fan will know that this song is not in alignment of our knowledge of Dan Howell, we get confirmation that this indeed ironic and outside of the branding that Dan has boxed himself into over his time on YouTube.

But the voiceover is also not in alignment with that “branding”. It expresses concerns related to the Dan On Stage’s mental wellbeing. There is no irony or subtext in that voice, it is the most direct in speaking to Dan On Stage, because it is being said by a variation of Dan in voiceover to himself. These could be seen as questions he knows to ask himself, but as someone who advocates for mental health & shares now about being openly gay, I interpret that he may feel he cannot express that outside of his mind for fear of undermining his advocacy points. The discussion of the “wonders” of the Internet also continue building in the tension that exists throughout WAD of how Dan feels about that space. The voiceover then proposes at first a type of equal extreme, which only sees the Doom, and as someone with clinical Depression myself, I think is only a furtherance of the breakdown, rather than the reality check it started off being. Not that what is listed is wrong by any means, but the barrage of it is meant to expand the drowning feeling, not act as call to action or consideration of the intricacies for engaging in the world. With the Circle’s sun imagery & the music having been inverted and shifted to something more sinister, Dan’s movement up the stairs fits a type of circular moment from the first entry of him, where the image of the prophetic figure is questioned on how he alone will solve the climate emergency. The slap & break of character for the Dan on Stage serves to confirm our understanding of the voiceover as the voice in Dan’s head & indeed there are not two Dans.

Also, the sparklers 🎇 showing up really make the key change for the song, but my producer brain is going, “girl, of course you lost money on this show, was that so VERY NECESSARY?” But the dramatic Gemini theatre bitch in me would 100% want this too. I just don’t have a capita£ester working to get sponsorship money in my life, so I have to be reasonable 😔 Also, the confetti with the high note is peak theatre gay so I again, love that for him. And of course, the confetti is orange.

--

Hints of Orange

When the song reaches its end & the Circle starts showing squares of orange, rather than a full background, this acts as a seed for the breakdown and waterfall of cubes, which Calvina speaks to the orange cube hint at the beginning in her post. The sudden cut-out with Dan simply lit replicates a moment the Circle is not present. The Internet is not present. To crawl to a microphone, the message is not “hey this guy needs two mics”, because we see one on his face, but that the wired mic (which I will now label as “The Microphone”) is a metaphor. It’s a crawl towards sharing out, not suppression. Only when the voiceover of himself points out the audience does he does a full fourth wall break. The suppression did not work, and neither he nor the audience can believe that it was the Truth.

The wire of the Microphone being orange showcases that it was meant to be seen. I don’t think it even in play in terms of the sound, like it might not even be on, considering the feedback nightmare it would likely cause. And no standard microphone used on stages has orange wires, because that would pull the audience’s eyes to it. But that’s the point here.

The rules of the space are now this: the Circle is not always active, the Microphone has significance, the Dan On Stage knows there is an audience. None of these were true before, even the Circle was on before the start. This draws the audience to know there has been a shift & to have the first words said into the Microphone be “We’re All Doomed” solidifies the song moment was a blip, that this is really where we start at. As an example, in the social media section, Dan does a deliberate wrapping of the wire on his hand at the same time the Circle scrolls to the social media icon. It is how the director & Dan are ensuring that we understand “what he is saying and what is been shown on the screen are in tandem”, so if you’re paying attention to that wire, it signals you should look up too.

Every other prop, except I believe the gavel and wig, is also orange. The bubble gun is mainly what comes to mind for me, since the cubes are not as activated as props necessarily. But if an item is to enter the stage, what I interpret it as is that it must be orange, there must be high contrast, nothing in the physical world on the stage can become blurred, only screens have that privilege(?) to have things blend together.

--

The Power Struggle Between Dan & the Circle

Once Dan has begun directly conversing with the audience, the rules of the space are:

(1) Dan On Stage acts, the design elements react (not including the Circle)

(2) The Circle and Dan have a symbiotic relationship, as neither have complete control over the other & react to what each other are doing

(3) The icons are our guides in understanding the sectioning done throughout the show

(4) Having “One Good Night” is the goal to reach at the end of the piece

As a person, as well as discussed throughout the show, we know that Dan has a contentious relationship with the Internet. It is what has given him his living but has also caused some of his worst moments mentally (2012? I don’t know her). It is the space in which lets him have an audience who have mainly showed him support, but also the space that has fed the cynicism that fuels his clinical depression. There lies in the way in which the Circle exists on the stage & looms over Dan in the background. It’s a necessary evil of what appears on the screen.

Why do I then say that the design elements are reacting? Well, if we remove the Circle from the equation, the lights, sounds effects, and props are all cued off of something Dan does like the clown honk. However, the Circle sometimes cues off what Dan does, but sometimes instigates what Dan speaks to. That especially is evident when video clips play that invoke what media Dan has been contending with on the Internet and the consequences of those things.

The Circle exists throughout both Act One & Act Two, but only becomes passive to the piece when Dan directly shows vulnerability & the removal of protective irony. Calvina spoke to this when discussing the costume choice of him opening the jumpsuit in Act Two to show the orange tank underneath.

--

Cubes as Articulators

Oh Creator did I have to dig deep into my brain for this term of articulators. So my directing instructor had some key terms that I think I don’t think are universally used, even by American theatre directors or at least in academic settings. She defined articulators to basically be elements that helped give almost like checkpoints for the progression of a throughline in a show. For WAD, that is easily those orange cubes.

When static is displayed on the Circle’s screen each time we transition to a new section, it is not the typical emulation of TV static, it is that sea of orange squares. It is an articulation of those fear, issues, concerns, all those pinpoints Dan speaks to why he says “We’re All Doomed”.

That’s why there is the culmination of the orange cubes falling on him, when he reaches the top of the stairs at the end of Act One. When he circles back to the same stage picture of him at the top, it can been considered a repetition of the prophetic imagery I pointed out from the opening sequence. What changes is that the orange squares enter the physical world, falling onto Dan. He can no longer say they live in his head. They are here and stay in the space until the end of the show. In Act One, they are the looming issues that signal the Apocalypse. In Act Two, they are the rubble that must be sorted through.

Calvina was the one who named it rubble and the cubes as representations of Dan’s problems. To have the audience actually able to take a cube home, she argued, would be symbolic of the audience helping carry that weight. While I’d love that, I mentioned in my tags on her post that I think mentally, that rubble would still be at his feet, even with taking home that visual metaphor. This is Dan we’re talking about, and with personal responsibility being a topic of the show, while it’s not his burden to bear alone, he does have to recognize it exists.

I think the repetition of the prophetic imagery comes to its climax when in the aftermath found in Act 2, voting who to fire into space can and does end up with him being sent by the audience. It represents an understanding of where he exists now from where he did at 18 in terms of social, political, and economic access and the possibilities of his influence. There is a responsibility there that ties to how he can move in the world now publicly, so why wouldn’t he have an existential crisis?

--

It is a Comedy Though, Right?

This is hundred percent comedy, and obvious dark humor at that. As a director, I love comedy, especially this type, because when an audience gets to laugh, the armor gets stripped away. They have no built-up resistance that let’s any uncomfortable point be heard effectively. It’s why the end’s vulnerability is effective, because we have already joked and laughed about our pains and our desire for escapism. Now we are able to move on into a place of reflection.

To underline why I say this is not stand-up comedy is that Dan has made it a stage show, just one that has comedy as a vehicle for telling this “story”. His interactions with his audience, through both quips based on audience reactions or “heckling” as well as explicitly asking for input into who to shot to space or what to add as a mad lib (generic brand for law purposes), are about being blended into the loose narrative constructed already, not actually to be reactionary like most crowd work I associate with stand-up comedy.

If anything, I could argue that it could be considered a comedy special that “Dan On Stage” is trying to make, but there is actually conflict being introduced that disrupts his set (both the comedy one and the physical one). There is clearly a showing of meta, as Dan makes sure to share thoughts on the creation of the show, the reactions from his overall show branding & imagery, the use of the lift because it was expensive to have. Dan’s comedy style can never be told without reference to behind the scenes, because if this is a creative means to process feelings, there are things about the show & its making that impact what needs to be processed too. It is also related to how his work is strengthened by acknowledging the two-way street of being in a parasocial relationship with his audience.

--

Can We Have One Good Night?

Another term central to what my directing teacher spoke of was the “Core”, usually a question, though not always, that motivated what was being explored over the course of a theatre piece. At the top, as Dan on Stage exaggerates that love doesn’t exist (which Dan refutes as being an actual belief of his during the afterparty) and other sardonic phrases, he also states he wants to give his audience one good night, because he recognizes the escapism his audience finds in his solo and joint content. We’re All Doomed’s Core is “can we just have one good night, even in the midst of the horrors we have outside of these theatre doors?”. But I would also say that in terms of where his writing was at the time of WAD’s inception and the naming of his mental health book as You Will Get Through This Night, it feels more like Dan himself has been grappling with a Core of “can I have one good night? Or a full 24 hours where I feel mainly happy when all I am bombarded with about the world is suffering?” I think night can be both literal, since we know he has had sleep issues, and metaphorical, as the night can represent this depressive episode he was writing himself out of.

When the mood tracker gets discussed in the last portion of WAD, to see a sea of neutral or uninterested emojis demonstrates when he took the time to do it, the answer that night was “no, not really” 😕. The main one mentioned is the ritual of “Fry Day” he has with Phil (sidenote: why are these British men not calling it “Chip Day”, since this ritual falls on a Saturday?), which is a rare smiley face. The question he likely has then is “can I ever have a good night again?”

So for him to then turn to his own videos during one of those nights, to a video where he states his famous “embrace the void and have the courage to exist,” that showcases what I mentioned of his best work being written for himself, in this case, a future version of himself.

--

Ending Sequence: Where Do We Land?

When the Circle does not display any media, it again shows the orange square motif, but after mentioning his own video, he turns to his audience for glimpses of what joy exists even in the face of Doom. The Circle changes into a display of different submitted clips showcasing this joy and hope that Dan was clearly looking for throughout this piece. He walks towards the top of the stairs to witness these clips. I cannot for my life at this point having now been separate from it for about a month, but I believe before the submitted media sequence, he states the famous line again of “Embrace the Void and Have the Courage to Exist”. With this last thing spoken, it gives that emphasis needed to take in the message emotionally and then witness what the Void (in this case the Circle) can offer.

--

A Good Director Should Go Unnoticed

When someone is not versed in theatrical directing, if the audience cannot tell what was a choice by the director or even consider the director themselves, this is weirdly a good sign. It means that it feels natural to what they are witnessing and to the messages that are meant to be communicated to the audience. As someone who also works in government, it feels very similar, as only bad work is evident to the general public. Obviously that is not true for everyone, but is an overall trait I think impacts both an understanding of public service and directing.

I am not familiar with any of the work of Ed Stambollouian, who through research, looks like he has done work with comedians like Joe Lycett (who I am also not familiar with) and directed TATINOF, but also more stripped down, exploratory theatre. Through a quick review of his portfolio, one, I am not shocked that Dan tapped him to assist with directing since there is a familiarity and two, his background tells me he knows how to direct for writer-performers, which is what comedians really are at the end of the day.

To direct for those who are doing one-person shows that they both wrote and performed, it is especially tricky to have the artist hand the reins over to the director. The director in this case acts as the artist’s eyes, because an artist cannot clone themselves. It is impossible for them to wear multiple hats at once, where they can give quality, objective feedback to themselves while also doing a full out performance. For Ed to be someone Dan has worked with before, there is already an established understanding of each other’s work styles, and a trust that otherwise would have to be built up before the work can truly begin to finalize the piece.

In short, Ed Stambollouian and the creative team on We’re All Doomed did an incredible job bringing what I understand Dan intended when he started writing this down in isolation. And @danielhowell you whole-heartedly deserve to call this your magnum opus. What can I say (sorry I can't help lovingly poking fun at you), your artistry shines throughout the show. I hope this too can be something your future self can turn back to.

🧡

(bonus) Thoughts on Orange Carpet & the Phil element

I didn’t fully rewatch the orange carpet, just to keep myself on task & not bring Phil too much into the main reflection without explicit reference in the show, but hearing Dan go “I’m alive in 3, 2…” made me laugh both times. He understands that we just want to know he has a pulse, ya know? Also them pretending it totally was live, when those fools (affectionate) cannot run a real live broadcast from their home for their lives. It just ran too smoothly, esp. in the transitions, for it to be anything but some very, very light editing on one improvised take they did. But I always support them in their acting, no matter how bad, like with DITL Australia’s opener or pretending there were not two apartments or that Google Feud being back was unplanned or Dil being pregnant with a statistically rare alien child or Phil living in a tiled, cramped bedroom or...

Also, Dan’s little laugh at the end of Phil’s sign-off is so fond it hurts. It also hurt that the VOD was hard to scrub through, so another deduction for the Kiswe platform.

Anyway, I’m glad that Dan was able to find space outside of the Dan & Phil branding of the 2010s as well as the image he was forced to manufacture for his YouTube presence, but also realize that with having a core audience that wants him to simply be happy, he can recognize that Phil is part of the things that make him happy. And can do so openly.

He is his own person, but it has been clearly emphasized now that Dan has no interest in not acknowledging that Phil always is and will be part of his present and future. He has made work like WAD & "Gay and Not Proud" to explore his way of thinking without the support of Phil present in the filmed/performed aspect. Dan acknowledges this intention, which is evident with him shooing away Phil at the beginning of “Gay and Not Proud” to process it alone.

It is also evident with the ending of “Daniel & Depression” and the WAD end credit of remote crisis manager showcasing the caretaking role Phil often plays in Dan’s life. But we know that caretaking is reciprocal, considering Phil's tactics with glue as well as his continuing health issues and anxieties. Dan has seen who he is without Phil by his side everyday in the public eye & has no interest in maintaining that Phil is absent for public projections.

I obviously do not know Dan Howell, or anything about him outside what exists on the internet. But in performance studies, there is a foundational understanding that there is no way to not be performing in some way during your day-to-day. Performing is not inherently a bad thing, as there are different roles you take on in your life, where how I engage at work is different from how I am hanging out with friends. This also has basis in gender studies, such as ideas that you can perform your gender "wrong". What has been so interesting to me in this phandom renaissance is the way Dan and Phil each perform as themselves in front of the camera now. What they share out and the layers they include--or choose to not remove--have been stated by them explicitly to be the most authentic they have ever been, without obviously removing their right to privacy. During the height of the glass closet that was their 2018 content, I remember thinking that it was going to be the most they would show us in the vain of "if you know, you know, and we know who will know". After the coming out videos of 2019, obviously that's not true, but the return of dapg has signaled a message of "we know you know, if you've been in the know" while veiled in a way that is not immediately perceivable by those who are casually engaging with their content. It is an authentic portrayal of themselves without filter, while also providing themselves space to not have to announce everything to the world. When you are in the know, it definitely targeted and causes psychic damage, but I am ready for anything and everything they throw our way.

[tiddygame]

hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap

I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:

tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)

also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!

fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.

Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.

When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.

Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.

Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.

(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)

He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.

Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.

Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.

Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.

“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”

Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.

"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.

"Yes sir."

“And do you know what happened to them?”

“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”

Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.

The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.

During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.

At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.

He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.

What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.

Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“You planned this?”

“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.

Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.

“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.

“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.

“Then yes.”

“Why?”

Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.

Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.

“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.

“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.

He didn’t answer.

“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.

He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.

“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.

“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.

Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.

He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.

“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”

Well, curiosity killed the cat…

“No, they don’t.”

…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”

It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.

His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.

Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.

“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”

“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”

Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.

Oh, he thought to himself.

I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.

<><><><>

They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…

No, that’s not quite right.

Simon was lying on the daybed.

Johnny was lying on top of Simon.

His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.

Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?

It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.

His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.

I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…

Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.

Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.

(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)

At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.

The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.

Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.

He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.

“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.

“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”

Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.

He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.

It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.

“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.

Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.

He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”

He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.

He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.

Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.

Well, that’s just fucking unfair.

Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!

Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.

Neither moved.

It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.

He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.

Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.

“Thank you, Simon.”

A second of delay, and then the hand continued.

“You’re welcome, Johnny.”

Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—

A kiss, on his forehead.

He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.

There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.

He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.

He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.

The dog tags.

John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.

He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.

He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.

He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.

Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.

He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.

God.

His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

<><><><>

Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.

Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.

If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?

He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.

He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.

He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.

What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?

Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.

For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.

He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.

Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?

He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.

Why can't you just be normal?

Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.

He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.

He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.

The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.

He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.

He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.

It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.

There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.

Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed

Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.

Ghost: Disliked.

Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔

Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.

Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it

Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-

Ghost: About the tags, you

Ghost: I think you make me want to live

Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.

I'm in love, aren't I?

Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius

Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.

Soap (art streamer): :D

Took you long enough, dumbass.

<><><><>

Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.

“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.

She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.

“Nope!” she replied.

She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.

"Detergent."

She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.

"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.

Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.

“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.

“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.

“Did you tell him what it means?”

“...What does it mean?”

Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.

“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“200 then.”

“It doesn't even mean anything.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.

“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”

“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.

“What did you say? 100?”

“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”

“So you admit you tried to scam me?”

“Just take the 100 and g-”

She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.

“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”

She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.

Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.

She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”

He didn't shake her hand.

“Christ, both of you are awful.”

He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.

She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.

She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.

“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.

I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.

[momo-ceros]

the convenience store at the corner || ken ryuguji/reader

summary; there is a small konbini on the way to musashi shrine that belongs to your grandmother. forced to help out, at least there are cute boys to look at. one in particular

tags; sfw, reader is a year older than draken, draken is a simp, teenage boys being teenage boys

author’s note; momo writing something in the holy year of 2023? impossible. i wanna start writing more i think so feel free to send in requests.

You were working at a small shop owned by your grandmother after school, which just so happened to lay on the path between his and Mikey‘s school and Musashi Shrine. Despite their rowdy reputation, you always greeted them with a kind smile but also did not shy away from using a sterner tone, particularly when Mikey made grabby hands at the Takoyaki behind the counter.

His crush on you made him feel ridiculous. He was the fearsome vice president of the Tokyo Manji Gang yet uttering more than a ‚hello‘ and ‚thank you‘ towards you seemed like an impossible task. He rather take on entire gangs all himself before you knew.

How unfortunate that you did. Whatever made teenage boys think they were slick about their crushes, you didn‘t know but you wish you had that kind of self confidence in other matters. You weren‘t blind, of course you saw the way the tip of his ears flushed in a deep red when he came to the counter. Honestly, it was kind of endearing.

You didn‘t know a whole lot about him, not more than what was told on the streets. You were a year older than him, he was some high ranking member in the teenage toddler group that were delinquent gangs and certainly seemed to be the most mature. Certainly more than his little friend who seemed to love drawing dick on the review notepad meant for customers. You were certain that Draken was 99% of his impulse control.

‚Draken‘ you had heard his friends call him on numerous occasions. That and ‚Ken-chin‘, but he did not seem to appreciate that nickname too much, judging my his reaction.

‘He was sorta cute’, you concluded as you sat behind the counter, your eyes following him, as him and his friends made their way through the store, laughing and joking around.

“They are still 150¥”, you chastised in a monotone voice, looking up from your magazine as Mikey flinched and moved his hand back from the pastries in front of the store.

“But we are regulars!”, he complained loudly pouting.

“No. He is a regular”, you said, pointing at Draken, who immediately flushed faintly, trying to keep his posture, “he is a regular. You have never payed for a single thing in your life here.”

Mikey grumbled, unable to deny the fact that Draken brought everything here anyway while he just picked what he wanted to have.

“Fine. Since I am unwanted here I am going to leave”, he said, leaving Draken alone to pay for their snacks with you.

“Sorry about him”, Draken apologised, rubbing his neck nervously as he placed the items on the counter.

You started to scan the items, taking your sweet time.

“Its fine. I’ve gotten used to it. Must be annoying for you to always be on baby sitting duty.”

“He can be annoying. Real annoying. But imma still follow him”, Draken said earnestly.

“How unfortunate”, you hummed, a glint of humour in eyes as you grabbed a milk bun.

“I didn’t-“

“Free of charge. For being a loyal costumer”, you said, winking at him.

Draken gulped and dropped the sweaty yen coins onto the table.

“Thank you. I am sure he will appreciate it.”

You mulled over the thought that just came for you before shrugging. Might as well go for it.

“One more thing”, you said as you rang up his change and scribbled something on a piece of paper before handing both to him.

Draken stared in confusion at the string of random numbers.

“Uh… thanks?”

You leaned forward, resting your head on your hands.

“Thats my number, dragon boy. Free of charge. Give me a ring sometime”, you teased with a wink.

A deep, scarlet blush spread across his cheeks as Draken stuttered out a thank you before speedwalking out of the store, pushing instead of pulling the door, quickly rejoining his friends. How fun.

You watched him stumble, rejoining the group of his friends who, upon hearing the recent development, cheered for him. Boys. It was kind of adorable actually.

You stretched, staring at the clock. 2 more hours. Maybe you would close your shift and the shop to a message.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hey, I'm thinking of getting into the homebrew scene for TTRPGs, but don't really know any good starting points and know that at the end of the day its all about connections in the community. I know you're more for indie RPG advice rather than patreon content for discontinued games, but do you have any advice?

Hmm, I’m not sure how much help I can be answering this question, but I think one of the defining things of a community is the desire for everyone in it to do well - whether that’s designing a game, creating interesting home-brew, or getting listeners for your podcast.

In many ways, I think the TTRPG design community is an interconnected ecosystem: there are people who design, people who write reviews, people who create supplements, people who stream, and people who make podcasts. We all benefit from others in the space doing adjacent things, and rarely does doing one of those things exclude you from participating in some of the others.

I feel like a lot of the people I met in the space I met because I was doing something they found really helpful - I’m primarily collecting game recommendations under specific guidelines because of the number of times I’ve seen people asking about games that do X. I’m also creating character spreadsheets for games that I can’t find an online character sheet for. The biggest takeaway I’ve gotten from these endeavours is that I found an unfilled need, and I filled it. I put these out on the internet, and people showed up and showed interest.

I’m also entering game jams on Itch occasionally - in fact 80% of the games on my Itch page were created for game jams. I really like participating in the group part of this scene, and I started doing this mostly because I had more games that I was excited about than I could feasibly play in one year. I consider the game jam games to be ways to fuel and direct my creativity, as well as giving me concrete deadlines to ensure my work doesn’t founder in development hell. It also is a chance to see what other people are doing; what are people playing around with, what are people interested in making? Someday I hope to release something bigger, but I’m glad I’m doing these small bits and pieces first, because it’s helping me develop skills that I know I’m going to find useful down the road.

I don’t consider myself a prominent figure in any way shape or form, and I definitely feel welcomed by the feedback I’ve received from other designers who see what I do here. I’m also excited when I get to interact with other designers who do cool stuff that isn’t as well known yet - I’m not the only one getting my feet wet with game design and I am hopeful that those of us who are getting started at the same time get to watch each-other grow.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 141 thoughts!

The usual reminder: because of the content of this arc, I will unavoidably have to discuss CSA and topics related to it in this & future chapter reviews. I do not discuss them in great detail, but if you very understandably just aren't in the headspace for that, no hard feelings - look after yourself and I'll see you next time.

This chapter starts us off on the note of answering something I've been wondering for a while and confirming that Ai did, in fact, know that Hikaru was being abused by Airi. On the one hand, this feels like it should go without saying, since it answers the question of where Aqua would have gotten some of this info, but it feels strange to have this dropped on us in such a matter of fact way.

In general, I continue to be both baffled and impressed by Oshi no Ko's dedication to never showing characters learning or reacting to huge, status-quo altering pieces of information on screen lol. I think this is more a case of the movie's framing than the manga's - hard cutting from the HKAI exchange at the end of last chapter to the Ai & Airi confrontation is very cinematically appropriate - but it does bother me regardless. In isolation, I think it's fine and we get more than enough information about Ai's thoughts and feelings on the situation in the confrontation but it's nevertheless part of a pattern that's been going on for a long while now of important reveals and reactions to really huge pieces of information are happening entirely offscreen and are only told to the viewer in retrospect, or are backfilled into the story once Akasaka wants to make use of it. It's not a world-ending flaw or anything but I'm noticing it more and more and I think it's been harming the series more than it's helping.

That said, I do really like this confrontation Ai has with Airi. It definitely feels more like Ai speaking for Aqua than it does Ai herself speaking - the cold, straightforward way she addresses Airi pretty clearly mirrors the way Aqua spoke to the director on Akane's behalf back in LoveNow. Whether this is a case of Aqua using Ai as a mouthpiece or their similarities as mother and son coming out in a moment like this, I think it's interesting either way. Given what we learned about Ai's own abuse and her own history with narrowly avoided CSA, it makes total sense that upon learning someone she cares about was being similarly exploited by an adult that she would have some very strong feelings about it.

Airi's meltdown in response is also something I have mixed feelings on. As a piece of characterization in isolation, it's fascinating and I think it provides some important insight into how and why Airi was able to rationalize and justify her abuse of Hikaru to herself, even though she clearly knows it was objectively wrong. I honestly can't help but see parallels in the way she centers her own feelings and pain and uses that as justification for her actions with Ayumi, Ai's mother, who had a more subdued but emotionally similar breakdown when talking about her history with her daughter.

Ultimately, I do feel it adds more than it takes away - I would much rather see the story continue to humanize characters who could otherwise have just been left as uncomplicatedly black and white Evil People Doing Bad Things. People very rarely begin acting in cruel, exploitative or antisocial ways out of nowhere and I think the manga's story is better for highlighting that this is the case.

H O W E V E R. . . where my feelings become more negative is the talk that follows, but I have like a million things to say about that so I'll put a pin in it for now to not derail too badly.

Given how Airi responds here, I'm also suddenly very curious as to if this direct confrontation was what put an end to her abuse of Hikaru. It's hard for me to imagine her going back to it after being so directly called out and if that's the case, I can't help but wonder if this was the trigger for the HKAI romance. I already talked last chapter that there's some imagery already implying Hikaru views Ai as his light, which OnK thematically associates with the role of a savior in someone's life. If Ai really did manage to intervene and protect Hikaru from Airi's abuse, then that would have intensified those feelings one hundredfold.

holy shit akane AND miyako are back! wow, isn't it totally crazy that across the arcs where they could have contributed to and potentially resolved the conflicts at play they were just totally absent but now they're just reappearing without comment or reaction to any of that other shit!

As I mentioned before, I have really mixed feelings on this scene with Miyako and the others. In isolation, I do like it and I think it kind of brings into explicit text something that had been just floating around as vibes before, which is how absolutely symbiotic with misogyny and sexual exploitation the entertainment industry is. The way misogyny played into Ai's exploration was always a really fascinating part of her arc to me, but given that Akasaka at least publicly presents as a person without that sort of lived experience, I was curious as to how much was intentional and how much was accidental, just because of how surprising it was to see a man centering this sort of thing so thoroughly in his writing. This scene with Miyako makes it clear that it's something Akasaka absolutely wants to highlight and discuss in Oshi no Ko, to the point of him being willing to call out even likable and sympathetic characters like Taiki for casually taking part in and perpetuating it.

THAT SAID… I really don't like that this scene, accidentally or otherwise, ends up centering and discussing Airi's victimhood over Hikaru's. His story has always been an indictment of the way children, specifically, are at risk in the entertainment industry not just in terms of being exploited as workers, but in the ways that adults in power can and will use their positions of authority to do exactly what Airi has done. That is what needed to be discussed here; the way that Hikaru's abuse is in no way an isolated incident and how people like Airi will continue to get away with hurting children so long as the industry - and society at large - treats children like second-class citizens at best and commodities at worst. I do think this scene is trying to use Airi and Miyako's experiences as a jumping off point to talk about exploitation in general and the way a person's ability to say 'no' can be compromised by outside pressures but it talks so much and so exclusively about the experiences of young girls and adult women specifically that it's hard not to read it as the story placing more value - at least for now - in exploring Airi's perspective over Hikaru's and that just feels kind of grody to me.

The timeline of this chapter is also just… really weird? Given Frill's, uh, appearance at the end of the chapter I have to assume it's taking place right after she films her scene with Aqua last chapter but that makes no sense given where the Ai and Airi confrontation is placed…? My best guess is that the scene we get at the start is some kind of visualization of the script by the characters who are reading it but it's all still very needlessly confusing lol

frill just barging in with her tits out when she knew rbkn were waiting for her was so fucking funny though i gotta admit. weird ass lizard woman.

Her mentioning it was her own decision to do the scene like that is also shrimptresting because it seems to implicitly confirm that there is, thank god, SOME kind of intimacy coordinator on set that the cast are talking about these scenes with. I actually also think the level of trust and comfort between Aqua and Frill this implies is also really interesting…? In general, I've always really like the idea of AQFR friendship, so this is kind of making me daydream a bit about seeing more of one…

As for the ending… man, it's such transparent reaction bait that I can't really summon the energy to get annoyed LOL. At least we won't have to wait a whole extra week to see what it amounts to.

Weary as I am with the reaction bait cliffhangers, I am at least glad to see the story coming around to finally addressing the elephant in the room here. As the chapter end text points out in the Japanese versions of this chapter, a scene like this was an inevitability of playing Ai and Hikaru and it's been where I've expected to see the underlying tension that's been floating around AQRB's relationship since the past life reveal finally get drawn out and addressed. Given its placement in the story (ch 142 is only the second chapter of its corresponding volume) and the framing of that last page as more of a gag/punchline than a serious dramatic beat, I don't things are quite going to play out like Ruby seems to want, but I'm nevertheless curious as to wtf is even going to happen

Honestly, at this point, I kind of just want Akasaka to shit or get off the pot. If he's going to bring a topic like incest to the table, then I want him to actually have something to say about it that isn't just Ruby going 'kyaa oniichan' and acting like a fanservice imouto character from a harem anime. If we're going to have something like 'Ruby falls in love with her brother' actually happen in story, then I want to see how she feels about this, how she rationalizes it, how she expects this to play out when she and Aqua live in a society that by and large condemns incest and treats it as taboo. At the very least, give me something to dig into and examine and chew on that wouldn't have already felt dated during the mid 2010s little sister boom.

[drdemonprince]

I read Anna Biller's (director, writer, set designer, and basically everything-er of The Love Witch) new novel Bluebeard's Castle. And I really found it to be quite the addictive and enchanting read, though all of the criticisms of the book that you'll see on Goodreads and Amazon are completely legitimate.

The book very much does read like a screenplay -- there are long descriptions of interior design and costumes, sometimes positioned in the middle of a scene in ways that break up the emotional momentum, to a hilarious effect. For example, in one sequence the protagonist is considering a gruesome vision of suicide, and then looks in the mirror to admire her hobble skirt and reflect that she's looking very sexy.

Some of The Love Witch's less charitable viewers didn't understand the way Biller's work sweeps from the grand and romantic to the self-involved and frivolous, but it's clearly intentional, and it works on the page for me just as well as it did on the screen. You just have to have the irreverent, glamorous toxic girl sensibility for it. If you love the way Lana Del Rey mixes the high and low brows, the tragic with the prosaic, you'll lap it up here too.

In some cases, Biller's descriptions do feel like placeholders, or are so generically written that it would make perfect sense in a script (because there is an entire team working on the film that can bring a "sexy" dress or a "lovely" piece of furniture to life), but which falls flat here. Because I know Biller's aesthetic style so well, when she tells me that room is sumptuous or well-appointed, I can picture precisely what she means, and most of the time she is so specific with her descriptions of outfits and accessories that you can easily conjure what she's going for. At some random moments, though, things are underwritten and demand that you as the reader fill in the details she normally provides.

Bluebeard's Castle is the story of a contemporary romance novelist and converted Catholic virgin, Judith, who falls under the seductive spell of an aloof, gruff, emotionally volatile Baron's-son, Gavin, who sweeps her off her feet following a fated encounter at a wedding. After a whirlwind romance and a hasty wedding, Biller's protagonist moves into a remodeled castle with her brooding lover, and the cracks in his shining armor begin to show. The charm of the love interest is something of an informed attribute; you have to believe the narrator that he is handsome and dracula-like (or believe that she believes it) in order to allow the story to move along. Since this is a tragedy rather than a romance novel, I think that buy-in is relatively easy to provide. The sex scenes are largely left to the margins as well; this book isn't meant to titilate but rather pull you into Judith's rich, sad, delusional inner world.

Some of the most positive reviews of Bluebeard's Castle describe this as a novel about how and why women find themselves entrapped within abusive relationships. As someone who has been in abusive relationships, I think this truly is where Biller's writing excels -- and she truly gets what it's like to become romantically and sexually addicted to someone who is bad for you to a degree that is almost embarrassing to see oneself reflected in. She truly gets it -- the way you excuse small violations, blot out any consideration of your own consent, justify unexpected outbursts from your partner and then take steps to prevent them, the way you must romanticize every single tender moment, rewrite the gradual conditioning of your own behavior as yourself becoming a canny, subtle manipulator of the situation, and color in between the lines of a truly unfulfilling existence with grand narratives and self-serving lies.

It's not a pretty portrait -- Bluebeard's Judith has a fanciful, inconsistent mind, constantly swapping between admitting to herself that her husband has mistreated her, and seeking refuge in religion, fantasy, alcohol, sex, and self-negation in order to convince herself that such abuses did not really happen, or don't really matter. She also uses other people -- leaning on her sister and a former romantic interest, the respectful, reliable doctor Tony -- extracting as much attention and support from them as she possibly can when she and Gavin are in a rough patch, then abandoning them entirely the moment he returns to her. I think a reader who hasn't been in an extended abusive relationship will probably find Judith infuriating and unsympathetic. But as someone who has done and been all of these things, I feel incredibly exposed by Biller's narrative, in a bracing way. It's like a shot of cold water to the face.

Many people will justifiably write this book off as melodramatic and arch, but I think it perfectly nails the alluring drama of being wrapped up within a terrible relationship dynamic. When you're being abused and you deeply love your abuser, you are absolutely fascinated by their unpredictable emotions and your own love -- you think constantly about how you might elicit the treatment from them that your heart longs for, you're reading into their every gesture and expression all the time, and you're inventing satisfying explanations for your situation in your head all the time. It's an isolated, deluded life, but it's pleasurably intense too sometimes, and those of us who fall prey to it often have some deeper longing for connection and passion that makes us easier to prey on. Biller really understands that.

If you adored The Love Witch, you'll probably have a lot of patience for this book's flaws and feel appropriately targeted by its strengths. Sad girls, Virgin Suicides fans, BPD baddies, Jane Eyre lovers, grown up former Twilight readers, and all kinds of other pitiful glamorous freaks will enjoy it.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #19 – Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

This is the third book I’ve picked up as part of my whole aspirational ‘read a piece of non-SFF capital-l Literature every month’ New Years resolution. Of those three, it is the second I opened only to discover it actually is science fiction and/or fantasy after all. Which is just a very funny thing to happen twice, and also meant the book was significantly less outside my comfort zone than I’d expected. Which did make it quite a pleasant read.

The story follows Klara, an AF (Artificial Friend, a companion robot for children) in a broadly sketched and mildly dystopian future America. At first it just follows her life in the shop where she’s kept, observing the world around her and interacting with the store manager and the other AFs, but the meat of the book is her life with the family who buys her. Over time you learn that Josie, her child, suffers from severe and increasing health issues as a consequence of being ‘lifted’ (genetically enhanced, in some unclear way) in the womb. Klara, being solar-powered and having quietly developed a one-robot religion underpinned by a firm belief in the power and benevolence of Mr. Sun (and a moral opposition to Pollution, which obscures and drives him away) does her best to invoke his help in nourishing and restoring Josie. At the same time, she learns that her job is not just to comfort Josie but, should she die, to be her mother’s replacement goldfish and imitate her perfectly.

The setting is broadly sketched and never really exposited upon – it’s just not something Klara is particularly interested in – but it’s a very modern sort of dystopia. Much of the populace, even among the American professional elite, have been left ‘post-employed’ by robotic automation. The remaining meritocratic elite have embraced novel and risky genetic enhancements for their children, as the only possible way of ensuring they get into a good school and one of the few good careers left. There are fascist militia compounds off in the distance somewhere. The overall feeling is that of a society dimly aware it’s midway through collapsing, but with no ideas of how to arrest its fall. But since Klara has no interest at all in either politics or economics, we only see this as it directly intrudes upon the story, with nary a lecture or manifesto to be seen.

I’ve only ever read one other book by Ishiguro, so I really don’t know how much this generalizes, but the similarities to Never Let Me Go really were striking. Both books are set in really rather horrifying societies, but portrayed in an utterly normalized way by someone who never even thinks to question the real rules they live under. Which is even more striking because in both cases the protagonist is seen by society as only quasi-human – like a person, but existing only in relation to and for the benefit of the people who really matter. And in both cases the story follows the protagonist who lives their life moving through the role they were made for without ever really resisting it, let alone changing it. Not that the roles of ‘friend to sick child’ and ‘mandatory organ donor’ are exactly comparable but, you know.

A definition I’ve always kind of liked for what makes literary fiction, well, literary is that it’s as or more concerned with the beauty and presentation of its prose than it is on the information the prose is conveying. Not at all true in terms of how the term’s actually used (genre is marketing), but it works for me, and lets this book count as literature quite handily. The whole story is told quite tightly from Klara’s point of view, and it’s a pleasure to read. Even if it took me more than a few pages to really understand how she described scenes, always foregrounding the ways they were divided by grids or patterns of the sun’s light.

Portraying the normal human society through the eyes of a naive and somewhat alien narrator to get away without explaining everything is a classic sci fi trope for a reason, but it’s overall used really well here as well.

I’m still not entirely sure how to interpret the sudden intrusion of magical realism with the ending. But otherwise, really quite a good read.