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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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future!steddie; long haul trucker Eddie; firefighter Steve ~1k words

It makes sense to Eddie, an obvious out when his world's gone to shit and he has to get away, that his escape route from Indiana is the same job his uncle left to settle down there and raise a kid with nowhere else to go.

Driving long haul means there's no one looking that close at a face that made it to the national news during his week on the run. It means living on the move, never stopping long enough to get stuck anywhere.

It means freedom.

It means loneliness.

He calls Wayne twice a week, coins in pay phones at rest stops while he's waiting for his hair to dry post-public shower, and that's enough for him.

Wayne has always been enough for him, and it would be hurtful to suggest otherwise; it would be disrespectful to the life Wayne helped him build, keeps helping him build with all that faith that had him never doubting an innocence questioned by everyone else in that God-forsaken town.

Twice a week. It's the only phone number he knows by heart.

Twice a week for weeks and then months and then years, driving cross-country and back again, it's freedom. He keeps telling himself it's freedom, that it's good, that he doesn't need anything more than that.

But driving long haul means there's a lot of time for thinking.

It means a lot of time for collecting thoughts up together and creating new meaning entirely.

It means that by the time he's twenty-one and twenty-five and thirty that he has tape after tape after tape where he's collected those thoughts aloud in the rumbling loud silence of an overnight drive.

Thoughts like who would I be if I'd stuck around? and thoughts like will they understand that this time running saved my life? and thoughts like I miss them, am I allowed to miss them, am I allowed to love them without ever really knowing them?

It means that when he stops for all but the first time in ten years, coming home to Wayne to find that Forest Hills is home to a couple more familiar faces than he expected, there's space for his words. His endless, looping thoughts.

Steve's got his own trailer these days, brings in Wayne's mail for him on the mornings he comes home from the night shift at the fire station and stays for coffee.

Steve's there across the way when Eddie drives up in a new-used flatbed truck he'd bought with his final paycheck on the day he hung up his hat and decided he'd been gone long enough.

Steve's there in stories Wayne only begins telling now that Eddie is home, endless retellings of a brand-new man who became a friend during a time when the name Munson was still a dangerous thing to carry.

Steve's there when Eddie starts transcribing all his dictated notes into something resembling narrative and character and prose and Eddie doesn't know the guy who jumped headfirst into another dimension, hasn't spoken to him since that week that forced Eddie to flee in the first place, but maybe he doesn't need to have those years under his belt.

Maybe it doesn't matter if Eddie knows a nineteen-year-old Steve Harrington, because he knows the twenty-nine-year-old one starting a matter of hours after he comes crawling back home, knows this grown and steady one who looked after Wayne when Eddie had to leave.

This Steve isn't stuck despite still living in the town that tried to kill him. He doesn't seem lost or without purpose.

He lives a simple life, working at the Hawkins FD and feeding stray dogs with the bowls he leaves out beside his porch. Robin comes and goes, seemingly dating her way through the Midwest's entire sapphic population and sleeping on Steve's couch in between live-in girlfriends.

There are old friends on the phone at near constant intervals in Steve's home, and there's that phone being pressed to Eddie's ear without giving him the chance to be terrified about what Erica or Dustin or Max might say to the guy who hasn't allowed anyone but Wayne access to him for a decade, what he might say back after so many years without proper human socialization.

Eddie has been moving for so long, stayed moving through the bulk of his acceptance of everything that happened to him, but there's a different sort of quiet here than what he found on the road, stillness, amongst the casual chaos.

There's similarities to life on his rig, sure, a certain routine to the comings and goings, only Eddie isn't hiding anymore and he's not thumbing through the same staticky stations anymore and he's not lonely anymore.

He doesn't know how to sit still yet, not really, but he stays up all night handwriting poetry on paper he once spoke onto tape on the porch of his uncle's trailer and sometimes when Steve gets home after dark, he'll sit with him.

He'll eat his dinner still in uniform and listen to the scratch of Eddie's pen and Eddie doesn't know him, Steve Harrington, but he's getting to know his neighbor Steve.

Ten years down the line and he's becoming solid right there in front of Eddie's eyes, becoming real, becoming something that can't possibly fit onto the tapes filled with nonsense and insights alike.

"You're never what I think you're going to be," Eddie admits to him one morning over coffee before Wayne or Robin have risen, before the phone has begun to ring, before the world wakes up and brings Eddie's life along with it, ready or not.

Steve smiles at him, amused and curious and cocky in the way he responds, "you're exactly who Wayne said you are."

It's an admission all its own, that Steve has thought about Eddie, spoken about him, in the time they've spent apart, even if it was only because he'd dared to keep Wayne Munson's company.

It's still an admission though, that in his absence, in his loneliness out on the road, Eddie wasn't forgotten by the watercolor skies over Hawkins, Indiana.

"Yeah?" Eddie breathes in those very skies, "and what did Wayne say I'd be?"

Ten years down the line and suddenly it makes sense to Eddie.

It makes sense in the morning dew on the lawn; it makes sense in the too-strong Harrington-brewed coffee; it makes sense in the wheels of his truck on a road that does end, eventually, and it makes sense in the collected thoughts and feelings, fears and dreams that he had to go away to decipher.

The freedom was in leaving, sure, but this? The coming home to Wayne and this porch and the man who lives across the way?

"Stick around, Munson," Steve Harrington dares on a morning like any other, "and maybe I'll just tell you."

Well. As it turns out, this might be the thing that saves him.

#dot post #dot fic #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #went looking for an incomplete draft to work the 'ole writing brain again and found a much shorter version of this #and now it's finished and yours!

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bwabbitv3s · 2 years

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Good Godfather Vlad AU

~I picture this as the timeline where Vlad goes to therapy after the disaster of the reunion where he sees his friends for the first time in ten years. He thinks it is going to be nothing but anger and hate towards Jack over how he ruined his life. Only for his friends he has not seen collage to ask him about why he never answered their letters they send him over the years.~

"What letters?" Vlad asks. His composure slipped a little at the unexpected revelation.

"Why all the ones we sent you while you were in the hospital. We were not allowed to visit as you were in intensive care which only allows family." Maddie tells Vlad.

"Yeah tried to get them to bend the rule but they would not budge. We attempted to break in three times that first week to visit you once you were stable." Jack says.

"The hospital banned us after that. Not the best decision we could have made but we just got stonewalled at every turn trying to find out how you were." Maddie says sadly.

"We sent you one everyday. You were in intensive care since we could not be there with you. Had to break into the dean's office to get your legal address so the redirection to the hospital would go through." Jack chatters away gesturing wildly. The punch nearly sloshed over in his cheap plastic cup.

Vlad feels like his stomach drops and the room is spinning. He remembers very little of the first week in the hospital. The crushing loneliness and pain as he came in and out the only clear memories. Never once does he remember any letters.

"I never received any letters." Vlad says softly.

"That can't be. We made sure to get them posted directly from the post office to ensure the address and postage was correct." Maddie answers then looks at Jack.

"Yeah we were worried that getting them sent to you in the hospital would be an issue and had the postal worker walk us through how to do it right." Jack says in a gentle voice.

How can it be that he never got any letters? Vlad would remember if he got one sign of his friends not abandoning him back then. He would never have refused to receive mail. Then like a slow motion train wreck he remembers an issue with the college.

"You got my address from the dean's office?" Vlad asks carefully. He hopes dearly that he had heard it wrong the first time.

"Picked the lock at midnight five days after you were hospitalized and broke into his records." Jack answers.

"Took a while to find your file as the filing cabinet was not alphabetized. Very unprofessional of him." Maddie says

"The Dean had my address wrong that year, seven was transcribed as one. It took weeks with the postal department's help to track down anything that was meant to be sent to me. The Undeliverable Mail Depot even had trouble finding anything that was meant to be sent to me." Vlad says in mounting dread.

"You never got any of our letters?" Jack asks.

"We had been sending letters to a non existing address the entire time." Maddie gasps. She starts to step forwards as if to hug him.

"I think I need to leave." Vlad stutters out. He hastily shoves a business card into Maddie's reaching hands. All he can focus on is the high pitch ringing in his ears as something inside him feels like it breaks.

"I need some time. You can use that to reach me later. I just can't right now." Vlad hastily says before Jack can stop him.

Vlad holes up in his hotel room the rest of the night on the phone with the hospital he had stayed at after the accident. It takes little time for him to get the right person and just a tiny bribe to get them to check the mail room for any lost letters without having to be there in person. He waits on hold for an hour before the answer comes through. An entire bankers box full of letters was tucked away in the back with an incorrect mailing address and smudged name. He pays an exuberant amount to get it priority shipped to him.

The next day he avoids everyone from the reunion. Using his powers to hide from the event planners and other graduates. His plans for revenge are dropped as a heavy package arrives at noon that day. With shaking hands he opens it and finds a years worth of faded letters sent to him after the accident.

Tears smudge the one written the day his friends got banned from the hospital. A blurry photo of Jack being escorted off the grounds by security officers is tucked into that letter. A giant teddy bear in neon blue in his hands.

Vlad cancels the next weeks meetings with his company and gets the board to deal with things for a bit. He calls up the ghosts he had hired and tells them the job is off and gives them payment in recompensation for it. Lastly he books a meeting with a therapist.

Now with a Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

#danny phantom #good vlad au #Danny phantom Au #good godfather vlad #vlad gets therapy #vlad has an emotional breakdown in his hotel room #Jack and Maddie would do crime to make their friend feel better #letters get stuck in postal purgatory #I learned about the undeliverable mail depot for this #Vlad masters #Jack Fenton #Maddie Fenton #Danny fenton

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eric-the-bmo · 1 year

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Blood and Silicon Ep5: The Dice Hate Us

[Summary: Blake and Leo decide to go check out the garage without Pauline. It doesn’t go well.]

Picking up from last episode, Blake goes off to feed from the woman Pauline brought in, leaving her and Leo alone in her office. There’s some silence, and eventually Pauline pauses from her typing (where she’s typing up all the information we gathered from the census quest) and lets Leo know that if anything is bothering him, he can talk to her about it. He holds his hands and says he just can’t tell her those things at the moment. She goes back to typing. Sebastian enters the room and asks Pauline for some time off, since college classes are going to be starting up eventually in the spring. She grants it to him, and he leaves. She goes back to transcribing the documents we got from Victor, and Leo pulls out his notebook to try and decipher some of the code he’d written down.

Blake returns from feeding and asks what they should do next; Leo suggests the garage and once again is immediately shut down. Blake offers to drive Leo home, and the two start to exit the club.

On the way out, Seb stops the two of them and recommends Leo change his wardrobe, since he doesn’t dress like everyone else at the club and is getting looks about it. Leo acknowledges this, drawing his coat closer around himself, and he and Blake exit the club and get into the Gangrel’s car.

Leo starts smoking a cigarette as they drive, and few minutes into the ride he realizes this isn’t the way to his apartment.

“Where are you taking me?” “...Somewhere I shouldn’t be.”

Leo is reasonably a bit terrified hearing that, but Blake is all “wait no hold on im not gonna kill you,” and it turns out they go to the garage of the Ashen Rose gang. There’s a chain link fence surrounding the perimeter, and a guard standing by the garage door entrance.

They get out of the car, and Blake asks Leo how long they should stake this out- Leo, a bit impatient from hunger, says “Or I could just do this” and turns invisible. Unfortunately, this causes him to gain a point of Hunger; His Beast begins yelling at him, and he tells it to shut up. Blake asks if he’s okay, but Leo ignores him and goes to investigate. His Beast tells him to go after the guard, she’s a Thinblood, won’t her blood taste great? He heavily considers this, but decides to stalk the perimeter of the chain fence to find an opening.

While trying to do this and be stealthy, Leo avoids kicking a can, and he’s very proud of himself, but then accidentally kicks a cat, which lets out a yell (and then knocks over a metal pipe!!!), and he’s like “oh god we fucked up,” and due to the hunger and anxiety of creeping around, he starts to dissociate because oh shit, oh my god they might get caught.

Trisha, the Thinblood guard, looks over and begins to head towards the sound; Blake realizes he should cause a distraction, and so he does a great impression of another cat.

Leo, still invisible, tries to continue finding a way through the fence, but ends up hitting the fence. His Beast goes full-paranoid- Leo fucked up, the guard is going to notice, they fucked up, they’re going to get caught oh god they should run- and so he runs away.

Smash cut to Pauline, still doing her paperwork. Sebastian enters her office and asks how long she’s been working with Blake and Leo [the answer is about a month for Blake, and only a few days for Leo]. He then asks if she’s certain she can trust them. Pauline responds that she can, and warns Sebastian to be careful.

Cut back to Leo. He’s stopped running now, as his paranoia has now worn off, but he’s still incredibly hungry. He goes off into the alleyways of the city, still invisible, and eventually finds an extremely drunken man sleeping behind a liquor store. He bites down and begins to feed, ending his invisibility.

Blake, not knowing that his companion ran off, tries to see if Leo had managed to make his way into the garage or not. He spots a vent on one side of the garage, and determines that no, Leo didn’t make it in, actually. He decides to wait and see if Leo will come back, and that he’ll go out and search for him after enough time has passed.

Meanwhile, Leo’s still been drinking the man’s blood, and is aware that if he continues to do so he’ll also get drunk. He doesn’t really care- in fact, part of him is looking forward to it. He drinks, and while his Beast is practically chanting at him to drain the man, and while he’s still a bit hungry, Leo pulls away so that he doesn’t end up breaking one of the Chronicle Tenants [The weak deserve protection]; and at this point he realizes he doesn’t know where he is. That’s fine; he can try and retrace his steps.

Blake decides to go find Leo, going down alleyways and whisper-calling his name. He eventually finds the Malkavian, and is relieved at this a bit, because 1) he found him, and 2) Leo being drunk at least means he fed, yknow? He asks Leo what happened and Leo responds that he got lost, and the two of them sit down. Blake asks how he’s feeling, which leads to an interesting interaction:

[”At least he’s not yelling at me anymore!” “??? Why would I yell at you?” “No, no, not you- J.” “...Is J still here with you?” (laughing) “He’s just not yelling at me anymore.”]

Blake gets Leo to look at him- letting him know he doesn’t have Pauline’s dominate abilities- and gets him to agree that they’re not going to tell her any of this; it stays between them. They head back to the car.

Inside, Leo asks Blade why he took them to the garage, since he seemed against it; Blake said it was his way of apologizing for being a stick in the mud (and also Leo needs to learn some lessons). Leo then asks what was up with the look Blake gave him after meeting with Victor (specifically, after Leo asked the Nosferatu to look into someone named Jeremiah). Blake says it just reminded him of his own past, and refused to elaborate any further. Blake sends Leo a text after dropping him off a few blocks from his apartment to make sure he got home safe.

The next night we meet up at the Asylum- Leo actually has on a black sweater this time to try and blend in better. Pauline’s printed out her documents and has put them all in a black folder. The trio heads to her office, and she calls up Zane the drug dealer, telling him she’s got someone interested in the drugs the Ashen Rose gang is selling. He says to go to the Northeast dealers, and warns her that their stuff is dangerous; also, it’s too early in the night for them to be out selling it at the moment. She thanks him and hangs up.

Blake and Leo somehow manage to convince Pauline to let them go check out the garage, and she’s all “okay, you wanna go so bad? fine.”

Pauline does not want to do this, but here we are, at the garage. Blake pretends to just now spot the vent, and he and Pauline try and do a “stand on the shoulders” thing to get Leo up there, but the dice continue to hate the players here, so even after two tries they’re unable to do this. Blake somehow ends up ripping the vent off its hinges, I think, which makes a Loud Noise. This, like the night before, alerts the guard.

Blake gets on the roof somehow???? Leo uses Obfuscate to hide, and Pauline waits. When the guard shows up, Pauline casts Dominate [”There was a thief here, but you scared him away. Everything is fine.”], and when the guard leaves she heads the other way.

Trisha the guard meets up with another gang member who wanted to see what was up, and the two get into an argument; because why would someone try to steal from this garage, as far as everyone knows nothing is in there?- they should change locations, the other guard is saying. Trisha is adamant it’s okay, since she scared the thief away. The other guard opens up the garage door; Leo sees his chance and goes in.

There's all sorts of alchemical stuff in there; tables with shelves and vials and weird components in jars, notebooks with alchemy equations/numbers, some of the weed the gang was making- but the main thing was this: There is a fridge laying on its back. Black tubes are running from it, dripping liquid into containers and running up to the alchemical equipment on the tables. Leo is certain there’s a vampire in there, perhaps, but is unable to check; The two gang members were in front of the open garage entrance, and doing something like that would cause the invisibility to end- and even if he were to do it again super quickly, it wouldn’t hide the fact that the fridge would be open.

However, Leo manages to grab some stuff (alchemical components, a notebook, some weed), and does the Quick Invisibility idea mentioned above for it. The trio all gets tf out of there and into the car, where Leo tells them about his Vampire Fridge theory.

The session ends with the coterie heading over to meet Harrison at his bar- It’s time to give him the information they learned from the census interviews, and to receive their reward (aka, feeding territory so they can eat without trespassing/fear of getting staked)

#YELLING ABOUT HOW A PART OF LEO WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING INTOXICATED HELLO?????#Blake and Leo the best duo they were like Bro Dont Tell Mom #anyway i really like Pauline shes Fascinating #bc listen. i so think she cares. just Secretly #blood and silicon #vtm #vtm ocs #vampire the masquerade #eric finally speaks

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fgmtzdev1 · 1 year

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A quick story from Matsumotos Suberenai Hanashi, told by the singer Gackt. Transcribed into a text by yours truly. You know, it's about when I was in middle school. It's a story about the feared Inoguchi Senpai. He was one year above me. When you're around 12-14 years of age, you're outgoing and social. But him, he was always a lone wolf. He was exceptional in fighting, but didn't let people be close with him. He was called "Lupin Inoguchi". There was another known legend: "There is nothing this guy cannot steal". That's what the legend said about him. Since he's a lone wolf, no one has been able to witness anything. He has no group of friends, so I thought the legend was being spread around amongst everyone. So at the first floor of the department store, my friend and I were looking at shoes. I look over and see Inoguchi Senpai coming into the store, looking real pissed. Since he's such a scary person, if you meet eyes with him, he beats you up. I thought: "Oh, shit!". But I noticed he seemed different from the Inoguchi Senpai we see at school. As soon as he comes in, he's like: "don-kats; don-don-kats". He's actually singing out loud! But, I mean, he's a hoodlum, and he's walking around, hunched over. For some reason he was doing that, and singing: "don-kats, don-don-kats; don-kats, don-don-kats". He's looking like a total weirdo, isn't he? I'm sitting here thinking: "wow, he's super sketchy!". I'm looking over going "Inoguchi Senpai is doing something weird". Then my friend says: "Let's go follow him". So we watched him go up the escalator, and followed. But looking behind him, he's definetely still singing, and he continues to do that the whole way up. Other people around him are like: "Don't look; he's dangerous!" Everyone is looking at him in that way- I'm thinking, all the people nearby must be feeling uneasy: they're avoiding eye contact with him. He goes to the top floor of the building, so we were wondering where he's going. We continue following him, to an electronics store with stereos and whatnot. Lined up are all these stereos, and at the time the stereo we wanted the most was the Sony Dodecaphone. The integrated Dodecaphone with speakers on the side. At the time, we absolutely wanted it, but it was expensive, so we couldn't get it. Well, Inoguchi Senpai is standing in front of it, the entire time singing. I'm watching, thinking: "this is bad, something's gonna happen". The workers around him are avoiding eye contact. Then Inoguchi Senpai starts singing, and he picks up the Dodecaphone and places it on his shoulder, still singing. He starts walking with it on his shoulder! Then he starts going down the escalator still singing with the stereo. This is a convicted criminal! He was singing all the way from the entrance just to steal the Dodecaphone. But since Inoguchi Senpai is so intimidating, no one is even looking! His demeanour is exactly the same; the only difference is the Dodecaphone on his shoulder! While singing with the Dodecaphone on his shoulder, he starts leaving the department store, and when the doors close, we're like: "He really is Lupin!"

Watch the story here:

#japanese #japanese game show #gackt #comedy #funny #storytime #storytelling #story

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unseelie-robynx · 2 years

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I just thought of something. So you know how most of the villains fail at making doing serious damage with oblivion? Well what about the other heroes? Because we already know that Xiaotian and Wukong can do serious evil with it so what about the others?

OK So i've been thinking about this, and I think the main problem with getting a hero to 'turn' and start a corruption ark and do some damage, is that there needs to be a reason for them to start using the music in the first place.

Which can be a problem.

With Sandy and Pigsy, the music would knock them out the moment it's played so I think the two of them are out by default of not ever getting past that first 'what is this' and then mind whammying themselves. They'd both probably get rid of it after that.

although there is the potential of Sandy seeing it as like, a self-calming/meditation thing and using it as such. maybe passing it around as such and there's just a slight undercurrent of very addicted demons who are in an extremely suggestible state semi-regularly, but I don't know if anything would come of that other unless someone else found out about it and what the music was really doing.

so that would leave Xiaojiao and Tang.

Now with Xiaojiao, I feel like it would be her protectiveness and well-managed vicious streak that does her in. (We saw in the pilot that she was immediately down to destroy Red Son once she found out he wasn’t Xiaotian’s friend and had been attacking him)

She might find it, be confused but think the ‘eldritch’ markings on it are cool and keep it. Maybe take it to one of the parties she frequents, since she’d need a reason to play it, a reason to see what it does. There would probably be a lot of confusion at first, since a lot of party goes would get all dazed and confused. But when the music is killed, (because the bass line is heavy even for regular partygoers) everyone hit confesses that it felt awesome.

So Xiaojiao brings her record by more often, and at some point she catches on that you can… get the people who daze out to do stuff while they’re like that, and that it still hangs around afterwards.

So she stops bringing the record. And a lot of people get upset about that, (because withdrawal symptoms) but luckily at that stage no one is dependently addicted to it yet

But maybe there’s some jerk who keeps causing problems at the noodle shop, or maybe some creep keeps trying to hit on her bestie despite his numerous attempts to tell them he has zero interest.

And well… she could probably fix that. Get them to back off, to be nicer. It wouldn’t take much, just a few minutes and a few words and whoever it was wouldn’t ever show their face around them again.

It would be quick.

(And that opens the door, and once you start playing around with power like that, it’s almost impossible to stop) For Tang, I think he could also be interesting. If only because Tang is a scholar, and academic. He likes answers and knowing how things work. So if he found this record? He’d probably mess around with it, take some transcribings of the cuneiform etched onto it to give to colleagues for translation, but he wouldn’t just sit and wait for those results, which means he’d end up playing the record.

And maybe he’s lucky. Maybe no one’s around and it’s just him in his office and it’s just a mass of overly heavy base that kind of makes his head hurt.

And that’s the end of that untill the translations come back about what’s going on with the record.

Or maybe he’s less lucky. Maybe there is someone around. Maybe a colleague, one who happens to be a demon, and happens to be a bit of a jerk. Maybe he’d been heckling Tang as he put the record on, and Tang had turned to snap at him only to find him dazed and slack jawed and just… staring into nothing.

Maybe Tang tries to talk to him, to snap him out of it. Maybe it works but some of the things Tang snapped at him before Tang turned around and saw the state he was in stick and his colleague is suddenly a lot less of an asshole.

Maybe said colleague finds himself coming back to ask about that record and, well, Tang is a scholar not a scientist, but he knows the basics.

Repetition is key to getting answers.

Or maybe he took the record home. Maybe he’s in the noodle shop after hours, or in his apartment with Pigsy when he tries it out. Maybe it’s his partner that ends up dazed and empty-eyed, but who confesses to how good it feels when he’s still under and Tang is trying to figure out what happened. Maybe it starts close to home, growing into something deep-seated and addictive before they realize it, and slowly starting to spread from there

#lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #oblivion series #oblivion au #brainwashing #adiction

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 1 year

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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 3: Pyre

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

GIF by @hotdcentral

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. You struggle with the passing of your mother.

Hello! My apologies for the wait. My laptop broke, so I had to go get a new one. It took me a bit to set it all up how I like, and then I had a busy time of it at work + a bit of writer's block. I hope the chapter makes up for it! Keep in mind there are some untranslated bits of HV in here, but I'll make a post + link transcribing all that for those who want. Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for giving this the go-ahead!

TRIGGERS: character death, exploration of child grief, dysfunctional family dynamics.

It is very quiet now that Mama has died.

Brella is quiet. Septa is quiet. Ana and Peony, the maids who come to make your bed neat again and pick up all the dresses you’ve worn, are quiet. Ser Harrold is quiet—but then, he usually is. None of Papa’s guards seem to want to make a sound now. Neither do Papa’s councilmen, like Lord Corlys or Lord Lyman, who you sometimes see walking down the halls with very sad looks upon their faces.

You wonder if, when Mama died, she took a part of all these people with her.

She has taken a part of Papa, and of ’Nyra, too. Suppertime is so very quiet that you are afraid to breathe in case everyone can hear it. They both just stare at their plates, eyes puffy and red like yours are when you cry, which means they have been crying, too. They eat their food like someone else is moving their mouths, and when they swallow, it looks like the most painful thing in the whole world.

Papa and ’Nyra haven’t spoken to you since the day of the tourney. You try not to be sad about it, but it’s hard. Now that Mama has gone away, they are your family, and it hurts that your family won’t look at you or say anything to you. It’s almost like they have forgotten all about you.

“They’re grieving,” Alicent tells you, taking your hand in hers as you walk towards the sept. The stairs are very hard to climb, so she had to help you up, and it was nearly like having Mama again when she pulled you into her arms and held you tight. “Their sorrow has made them blind to all else.”

You don’t really understand what she means. “To me, too?”

“Hm?”

“Their sorrow. It’s made them not see me?”

Alicent stops. Something very soft and sad makes her face droop, and she bends down so that she can look you right in the eyes. “Oh, princess. They see you. And they love you. But your mother”—she takes a breath that sounds shaky—“she was very important to them. They miss her very much.”

“I miss her, too.” You wonder when Mama will return. How long is ‘never’? No one has ever explained it to you. Hopefully it is soon.

“I know you do.” Alicent stands and grabs onto your hand again, leading you toward the table where so so many candles are.

The room is very hot, all the little fires making you sleepy even though it is only morning time. There are two stools right before the table, and Alicent kneels on one. You try to do the same on the other, but it means you cannot see the candles anymore.

“How about you stand on it instead, princess?” Alicent asks. She lets you hold onto her shoulder so that you can get up on the stool like she said, which makes it much easier to see. Then, she folds her hands together in front of her chin and bends her head, so you do the same.

It isn’t very interesting to stare at your fingers at first, but after a while, it’s nice. You count all the little folds in your skin—there are a lot—and trace the edges of your thumbnails with your mind over and over. Time goes funny, and you cannot remember why you were ever sad before you came here.

It might be minutes or hours or days before Alicent speaks. “Would you like to light a candle? For your mother?”

“Why?” you ask, frowning. Is candle-lighting how to get Mama to come back? Will she see the light and know it’s me and return with baby Baelon? Is that why so many people pray in the sept?

Alicent picks up a candle that hasn’t been lit. “To remember her. You light the candle and… she’ll see it.”

“From where?”

“From one of the Seven heavens.”

“Where’s that?”

“I… do not know.” She stares at the candle like she is trying to light it without moving. “Somewhere far away. My mother is there, too.”

“Oh.” She sounds very sad, so you reach out to grab hold of another unlit candle. “Can I light this one? For Mama?”

That makes her smile just a little. “Of course, princess.”

Alicent takes one of the lit candles and tilts it into yours, making sure not to spill any of the hot wax on you. You hold very still, because fire is dangerous which means you can get hurt, even though you touched it once and it didn’t feel like anything but warm. The little string at the top catches fire, burning orange and gold and swaying gently.

She lights her own, too. “Now, you place it on the altar, like so.” She carefully sets both candles down and closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she must be thinking of her own mama.

You nudge your candle back to where you took it, watching the flame dance about. I lit a candle for you, Mama, so you can see it. Do you? Do you see me?

Where are you, Mama? When are you coming back?

The candle doesn’t answer. It just sits there, the little fire bobbing about and then finally falling still. All you can hear is the sound of your own breathing. When you are done, Alicent helps you step off the stool, and you leave the sept with the candles still lit behind you.

Just outside, you find Uncle Daemon waiting for you.

While ’Nyra and Papa are grieving and Papa’s council are planning and everyone else is doing whatever it is they do away from you, Uncle has been making sure that you are ‘well’ by telling you stories and teaching you more High Valyrian and sitting at the table to watch while you and Brella play with your dolls together. He never stays for a long-long time, but it is still very nice.

“Farewell, princess.” Alicent lets go of your hand and turns to curtsey to Uncle, who bows his head but says nothing, just stares with a not-exactly-kind look. Then, she leaves, her footsteps fading away and then dropping as she goes down the stairs. You listen until the noise disappears entirely.

Uncle’s brow raises. “What were you doing in the sept with only Hightower’s daughter for company? Where’s your sister?”

He never calls her by her name. You wonder why, sometimes.

“She took me because ’Nyra is napping again from crying so much, and I was by myself. So, we went to the sept so I could light a candle for Mama,” you say quietly. “So that she’ll see it and come back.”

At that, he softens. He crouches down so you can see his face more clearly. “She’s not coming back, sweetling. You know that, don’t you?”

“Why not?”

“She…” He grunts. “Do you remember the stories about Aegon the Conqueror, and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Right.” He rises, gripping you below your arms and lifting you high so that he can carry you away from the sept. It makes him uncomfortable, though you don’t know why. “Tell me what happened to Rhaenys.”

“She tried to—to get Dorne to say that Aegon was their king, so she rode Meraxes to them.” Uncle hums approvingly, so you keep going. Your voice wobbles with each step he takes. “But they were angry at her for burning the grass and the trees and the buildings and the people and the sheep and the horses and th—”

“Yes, yes, she lit Dorne aflame.” Uncle rolls his eyes. He bounces you extra hard in his arms so that it feels like you’re about to fall, and you squeal and wrap your arms tight-tight around his neck so that you don’t. “Leave the boring bits out. Tell me the rest.”

“She—Dorne took a big, big arrow and hit Meraxes in the eye, and Rhaenys and Meraxes fell all the way to the ground from up high and died.”

His lips twist at the way you say the last word. “You’ve been paying attention. Good girl.” You’re out in the courtyard now, away from the sept. It isn’t any louder out here, which is strange, because it is usually always loud and full of people. “Did Rhaenys ever return to Aegon and Visenya?” he asks, moving towards the doors that lead to Maegor’s Holdfast where your rooms are.

“No…” you say, unsure. You don’t think she did. “Why didn’t she go back?”

Uncle sighs, slowing down so he can look at you properly. “That’s what it means to die, sweetling. Rhaenys didn’t go away. When she hit the ground, her body ceased to function. She stopped seeing, feeling, thinking, moving, breathing. She became… nothing.”

Your belly twists. You don’t like what he’s telling you, not one bit. Whatever your face is doing, it makes Uncle keep talking.

“It’s like your dolls—you can touch them and see them, can’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“But when you speak to them, do they speak back?”

“No.”

“Do they have beating hearts?”

“No.”

“Do they eat or piss or shit?”

You gasp. “That—that’s naughty, kepus!”

He rolls his eyes again. “No, they don’t. They’re things, not people. And your mother… she’s no longer a person. She’s a body, one we must put to rest today.”

The funeral is soon. Uncle has been reminding you lots and lots, and when you asked, he said a funeral is what people go to so they can say goodbye to the person who has died and put their body back where it is meant to go. And because Mama is a Targaryen like you and Uncle and Papa and ’Nyra, her body has to be put on fire so that she can go back to the wind.

She’s not a person anymore. She’s a nothing. It scares you.

You sniffle. “But… I don’t want her to be gone like Rhaenys did. I want her back.”

“I know.” Uncle hugs you then, pulling you so close that your nose gets stuck in all his hair. When you breathe in, all those hairs go up inside your nostrils and make them itch. You hope he never lets go. “I know.”

Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the hill, then stand quiet. Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the hill, then stand quiet. Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the hill, then stand quiet.

You keep saying it over and over in your head, just like Uncle had said. He is the only one who would tell you what is going to happen at the funeral, because he knows that you like to know things even when you’re afraid of them. It makes you feel better, makes you feel a little less scared.

Uncle never told you how many people would be here, though.

Everyone comes to watch you and ’Nyra and Papa and Uncle walk through the keep to the carriage—the maesters, the maids, the pageboys, the lords and ladies that like to stay in the city—but they are silent as you pass. You wonder if pressing yourself against the wall and thinking really hard about being made of stone will turn you invisible, which is when you can’t be seen. You wish you could. There are too many gazes on you, and it makes all the hairs on your arms and legs and neck stand up. Uncle has to press you forward when you slow down to look for an escape.

You sit in the carriage beside ’Nyra while Papa and Uncle sit at the front, because Papa is the king and Uncle is his heir. She is very pale, almost blending with her hair except for her red eyes. You slip your hand into hers and she squeezes hard, but you try not to show her that it hurts. She looks less sad holding onto you, so you don’t mind at all that her fingers pinch.

It is the first time in a long time that you have been able to see any of the people outside the walls of the keep. Before Mama died—before Mama’s belly got too big and she had to stay in bed—she used to take you just beyond the gates to where the really poor commonfolk would line up every sennight on the day of rest to get their alms, which Mama says is an important part of being good. She would say that you have to give coin and food and whatever else the people might need so that they are well and happy, because that means they will support the king’s reign and be peaceful. You don’t know what that means, but Mama is always right.

You miss it—giving people things, letting them pat your cheeks or your hair and calling you the People’s Princess. Because Mama is the queen and giving alms is what the queen is meant to do, no one else could take you when she stopped going out of her chambers. And, when you went with her, the people were always very loud and cheerful and smiling, and they thanked you with tears in their eyes when Mama let you give them the pouches of coin yourself.

As the carriage takes you through the city today, the commonfolk are quiet.

None of them are smiling, or happy. They watch on as the horses take you through the streets, and some of them even cry when they see the long box that the cart ahead of you is carrying. It is the biggest, nicest box you’ve ever seen, made with dark wood and borders that look like real gold, glinting in the sun. Uncle told you that the box has the bodies inside it, the ones of Mama and baby Baelon.

You think that the people miss Mama very much. Maybe they miss her almost as much as you do—but not the same amount. You think you miss Mama most of all, even more than Papa or ’Nyra, because at least they have Lord Otto or Lord Lyman or Lord Corlys or Alicent or Betha Strong or Ser Harrold to keep them company. All you have is Mama and sometimes Uncle, and now Mama is gone.

After a while, the carriage starts to take you up and up, which means that you are almost at the point where you will need to stop and get out and walk the rest of the way. This is because the horses cannot pull so much weight up Visenya’s Hill. Uncle said it would be hard for you to walk, being so small when the hill is so large, but that you have to so that everyone can see how brave you are. “Targaryens don’t show weakness,” he says.

He is right—the walk is hard. At first, when you get out and take ’Nyra’s hand and start to follow Papa up the hill, it isn’t so bad. But then, it gets steeper and steeper, almost so steep that you feel like you need to use your hands to climb the rest of the way. Your legs burn so much that you want to cry, but you don’t. Uncle said you cannot be carried, either, so you don’t ask ’Nyra to pick you up. You must be brave. You must be brave.

By the time you reach the top, the men who were made to carry the box have opened it up and taken out the things inside. There are two funny-shaped objects covered in brown cloth lying in the middle of the pyre that has been built for the funeral—one is big, bigger than you, while the other is very small. They are the bodies of Mama and Baelon, and you have to hold on tight to the memory of Uncle’s words to keep from running over and trying to shake them awake.

“What remains of them will be set upon the pyre, yes—but remember, they’re not people. They’re just skin and bone and meat now. You must let them burn as all Targaryens burn.”

’Nyra’s hand feels like ice around yours as a man in a strange dress with a hood comes forward, past all the lords and ladies and past Uncle and Papa to stand right in front of the pyre. Two other men wearing dresses that look almost the same go with him but stay one step behind.

“Tubī Arryno Lentro Dārie Aemme se Targārio Lentro Dārilaros Baelon perzyrty mōrqittot…” he says. You don’t know all the words, but you think he must be talking about the way Mama is a queen and baby Baelon is a prince, which seems silly to mention now that they’re not real anymore. “Sȳndor zijosy rēbarose, Dāria Aemma eglio ilvot trēso Dārilaros Baelon zȳhos gūros se tegot…”

Syrax is standing on the very top of the hill above everyone else. Because it would be very rude to look around at the others—Papa’s councilmen and Alicent and the men who live on Dragonstone, your family’s special home, and Princess Rhaenys too, who is very scary, as well as so so many people you don’t know at all—you keep your eyes fixed on the dragon, admiring how pretty she looks in the sun. Usually, she makes lots of noise and is very mischievous, which is another word for naughty, but today she is quiet like all the rest. You wonder how she knows about funerals when she cannot speak in Valyrian or the Common Tongue or any other words that people can understand.

“Targārio ānogro rȳ ōrbrar ojāris, sētenondi hen ībī iemnȳ nȳmas,” the man says. His dress has what looks like an eye sewn on the chest, which seems an odd thing to want to wear. No one else in the keep wears eyes.

The two men behind him step up with jugs in their hands, and they walk around the pyre pouring what is in the jugs over the cloth. It turns the brown even darker brown. After they bow, they move back, and no one speaks for a while.

Finally, the man with the eye on his chest says one last thing. “Hen perzȳ sīdas. Va perzȳ āmāzissi. Hen prānot istas, vapār drējī mōrī iksis.”

Something about fire, you think. Maybe he is saying your house words in High Valyrian. Fire and blood.

It is silent then, nothing but the sound of the wind whistling filling your ears. Everyone is still, from the lady with the kind eyes that remind you of your own on the other side of the pyre to the funny men to the side. No one speaks. You wonder what is supposed to happen now.

Uncle puts his hand on your shoulder, leaning in to whisper in ’Nyra’s ear. “They’re waiting for you.”

At first, you think she hasn’t heard him—she doesn’t move or do anything at all, just keeps staring where Mama and baby Baelon are. You nearly jump when her fingers tighten on yours. “Ñurho valonqro paghyro jēdunna, lo tolijī kepa ñuha kirimvī rhēdos pendan.”

It makes no sense, but Mama told you once that it is rude to listen to other people’s conversations, so you try not to listen too hard.

Uncle speaks too low for you to hear him, to which ’Nyra replies with something you do understand. “Trēsy dōrī kesan.” I will never be a son.

She sounds very, very sad. Poor ’Nyra, you think. I will never be a son, either. I’m just a daughter, a girl, like her. Maybe Papa would be happier if ’Nyra or you had died instead of Baelon, if your body was wrapped in the brown cloth on the pyre and you weren’t real anymore.

’Nyra lets go of you. She looks to Papa, but all he is doing is staring at the pyre where Mama and Baelon lie. Her eyes are very red, which means she has been crying. When she steps forward, Uncle takes your hand and pulls you back to stop you following her. He is warm, so you try to hug onto his leg in a way that doesn’t make you weak like he told you not to be.

Syrax makes her chirping noise, all of a sudden paying attention to what her rider is doing. ’Nyra tries to speak, but it doesn’t come out. “Dr…”

She looks at Papa again, so you do too. He still hasn’t looked away from the pyre. You wonder if he knows you and ’Nyra and Uncle are even here, because he hasn’t so much as glanced at you since the night he came to your rooms and told you that Mama and Baelon had died. Not once.

“Drakarys.”

Syrax rumbles, and then begins to climb down toward all the people. For a moment, you’re worried she might try to eat someone, but the dragonkeepers are here with their spears to stop anything bad happening. She opens her mouth, and fire comes bursting out.

The pyre lights up, and Mama and Baelon disappear in bright white-orange.

“Mama?” you whisper, eyes stinging and throat feeling strange, like you want to be sick but not. “Mama?”

The only thing that you can hear is the sound of burning.

Papa bends his head, and ’Nyra looks away. You think that you may be the only one who keeps watching the fire as it takes your mama away from you forever.

(When you are grown, you will not remember this day. You will not remember the ache in your bones or the wind in your hair. You will not remember the faces of the commonfolk you passed along the way, or the sorrow in Rhaenyra’s voice when she called down dragonfire upon the hill. You will not remember the cold that leached into your blood as you stood beside what was left of your family, a slow freezing that will take its toll over the days and moons and years of your existence.

Even so, the sight of the bodies on the pyre and the smell of burning flesh will remain etched into the very fabric of your person forevermore.

At night, you will sometimes feel as though ash clings to your tongue, the taste of rot lingering in your mouth. In dreams, you will see brown cloth and a faceless babe wiggling beneath wrappings as it burns to nothing. You will wake in a panic, near to choking on the air you cannot seem to make yourself breathe, looking about wildly in search of the horrors that had plagued your slumbering thoughts. Melancholy will follow you, lurking just beyond reach, haunting, nameless.

But you will not remember this day.)

After the funeral, Uncle Daemon leaves.

You don’t know why, because he didn’t say goodbye and no one will tell you anything. When you ask ’Nyra, she tells you she doesn’t “want to talk about him” and walks away with Alicent. You ask Brella, but she just says, “Not right now, princess.”

You don’t ask Papa, because he is still grieving for Mama and baby Baelon. For you, that means he doesn’t want to tell you about anything at all. But whenever someone says Uncle’s name in front of him, he gets very, very angry and storms off with his boots making a lot of noise on the ground, so Uncle must have done something very naughty.

A big ceremony is happening today, though, which makes it harder to be sad that Uncle isn’t here. ’Nyra told you that Papa has decided to make her the heir, even though Uncle is supposed to be. Maybe that is why he left. It has been very busy in the keep because everyone came for Mama and Baelon’s funeral, but they are being made to stay for the ceremony so that they can swear fealty to Papa and ’Nyra. And, for the first time ever, you have a special role, too.

“… promise to be—to be faith—faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhae-nyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall def—defend them against all e-ne-mies in good faith and without de-ceit. I sw—swear this by the Old Gods and the New.”

Alicent claps, smiling. “Well done, princess! Much better!”

’Nyra comes out from behind her screen wearing a pretty red dress, like the colour of the dragon with three heads on your house sigil. “Just try not to stutter so much, little sister.”

“Trying,” you say grumpily—the words are hard—but ’Nyra isn’t paying attention. Instead, she is looking into the mirror as Alicent helps her with the laces at the back, staring at herself in a way that doesn’t look very happy.

Alicent stops and hugs her. “You will be fine. This is what you were born for.”

“I wasn’t, though,” ’Nyra says, frowning. “Was I?”

They both go quiet, so you say, “You look very nice today.”

That makes ’Nyra smile, finally. “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for Alicent to finish lacing up her dress and helping her with her gold cape and jewels. When she is done, ’Nyra leaves the room and Alicent moves toward you so she can take your hand. “Come, princess,” she says. “Let us walk to the Great Hall together.”

When you get there, the room is full of people. You wonder if every single lord and lady in the whole of Papa’s kingdom is here, all together in this one place. It is only because you are a princess that you don’t have to stand with all of them, and Alicent leads you over to Ser Harrold so that you can stay next to him by the Iron Throne. There is even a little chair just for you there, in case your legs get tired.

“Princess,” Ser Harrold says. His voice is funny, like a growl, and it makes you giggle every time you hear it. And, every time you giggle, he smiles, which makes all his wrinkles deeper, which is even funnier. He does it again now.

A big bang at the door has everyone go very quiet.

“Presenting—Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen!”

No one speaks when ’Nyra comes through the doors all by herself, chin lifted straight up and walking down the middle of the two groups of people. Everyone stares at her, even Papa, and you think that it’s only right that they do because she looks so so pretty today. She curtseys to Papa at the bottom of the throne, and then turns to the people.

Without a word, Lord Corlys comes forward and kneels. “I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named…”

You decide to sit in the chair while you wait. All the lords here have to say the same words you do when they pledge fealty, but you are going last because you’re the most important person to say it, which is what Alicent told you.

Lots of men and some ladies come up to the front to kneel and say the words to ’Nyra while Papa watches. It takes a long time, so you spend it looking around at all the different faces and dresses and coats that you can see. There are all sorts of things sewn onto the chests of people’s robes—you see a black stag on a yellow coat, a yellow lion on a red one, a grey wolf on a white one, a flower, a bird, even some boring ones like plain stripes or dots. Some of the ladies are wearing dresses that look very strange—the neck comes far far down so you can almost see some parts that are not proper for a lady to show. When those ones say the words, most of them are actually saying them while looking at Papa instead of ’Nyra, which is very rude because today is all about ’Nyra and not Papa. No one tries to make them stop, though, so maybe only you notice it.

When it is your turn, Ser Harrold taps you on the shoulder. All of a sudden, you feel very scared. So many people are looking at you now, and it makes you feel small and weak like you’re going to be smacked if you do anything.

But you must be brave. If Uncle were here, you’d want him to be proud of you.

You kneel in front of ’Nyra a little closer than everyone else did, but you think that no one will mind very much because you are her sister. Besides, your legs are feeling very shaky, and you might fall over if you have to go any further.

For a moment, the words won’t come out and you panic, but ’Nyra smiles. It is the only smile she has shown the whole time, and it’s just for you.

You find the words.

“I promise to be faith-ful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all e-ne-mies in good faith and without… deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New.”

You rise up, feeling like water is rushing in your ears, almost like it does whenever you have to take a bath. A sound like a heartbeat is all you can hear as you walk back to your spot, but you don’t sit down. ’Nyra said that you have to stay standing for the final part, the words that Papa has to say.

Your sister turns around to face the Iron Throne and bends her head to Papa. He says nothing.

Then, Papa stands, his sword Blackfyre in his hand and pointing down into the ground. “I, Viserys Targaryen, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm”—so many titles go after his name, you think, glad that you only have ‘the People’s Princess’ after yours—“do hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”

Everyone bows their heads, so you do, too. When ’Nyra turns around, all the lords and ladies and knights and guards clap.

Beyond the noise in the hall, you think you can hear a dragon roar.

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pintobordeaux · 2 years

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to elaborate:

Bruce terrorizes Superman villains with just angry glares and growls.

Clark has to learn to live in a not invulnerable body.

Clark on his first night as Batman: "Ouch! You stabbed me! It hurts!!!!"

Everyone thinks Batman has gone completely insane and might turn into a new Joker.

The Pentagon is this close from activating their anti-Superman plan because the man looks one inconvenience away from a worldwide dictatorial regime.

Bruce has to learn to hold his strength back because he breaks absolutely EVERYTHING.

obligatory NSFW: they masturbate to see how the other's body works (bc of course Clark has alien genitals).

Bruce starting to have blood pressure issues from having to act meek with all the ppl shitting on him at work.

Clark not putting up AT ALL with Riddler's schemes and riddles and stops him by entirely other means.

Clark getting anxiety from having to be in the spotlight all the time and being chased by ladies.

@jellyfitzjelly OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. Yes this 100000000000x this!!! (You sent it in two messages so I screenshoted the first for context for everyone and I’m using the second as the answer since I didn’t wanna transcribe it lol)

I am WEAK in the soul for body switching fics and headcannons. To add on more thoughts to your thoughts

The absolute body horror/dysmorphia/dissociation at being in a body but not your body but still having that vouyerustic fascination at being able to explore someone else’s body from your own consciousness.

^^^ I am 100% on my bullshit about those “I have a crush but we haven’t said anything or been close yet and it’s so wrong but this is my opportunity to get as close as possible to them in a way I’ve been dreaming about” tropes.

The uncanny valley at seeing the other’s expressions on their face! Like Batman’s signature scowl on Superman’s normally cheery face. Or Clark’s sunbeam smile on Batman.

An excuse to push them together to work through it! Maybe secret phone calls alllll day to each other. “How do you deal with the Wayne enterprise board?” “I broke another door handle. What now?” Just so many options.

Do they try to hide it? CAN they hide it? If not who figures it out first?!? If they don’t hide it now what? What do they do with their time?

I 100% believe that Bruce would make Clark practice sparring/ hand to hand combat in Bruce’s body. Just let the implications of that sink in. Are those thoughts nice and marinated yet? Because YES.

Do they have the angst and unsureness of “this might be forever?” Or the bittersweet relief of “we only have _ amount of time to experience each other like this.”

And on that note - if it’s established relationship Superbat. O.M.G. The wonderful idea that they get to use this opportunity to get to know each other in ways they never could under any other circumstance.

Like imagine Clark finds out all the little things bruce has been hiding. Maybe Bruce actively suppresses blushing every time Clark runs a finger up his arm. He had no idea. And Bruce finds out that while he knew Clark doesn’t need to eat he actively craves certain things sometimes. They use this to learn more about each other and carry that over into a stronger relationship once they’re switched back.

My obligatory NSFW addition - sleeping together. Is it an act of ego? Sure, maybe. But the body is a shell to house the person they love. That can change and they’ll still love them no matter what. I wanna see some fic that just goes for it. Let Bruce as clark sleep with Clark as Bruce. No cop out ‘this is too weird.’ Na bro it’s interesting and novel and Batman is a detective who loves puzzles, and Clark is an investigative journalist. You bet your ass they’ll sleep with their partner who physically looks like themselves.

Second NSFW addition - in Smallville the heat vision is absolutely first triggered by horny feelings. I just want Bruce to have to experience that and Clark having to bumble through and explain it to Bruce. But then Bruce’s mind immediately goes to “so you have to be turned on to use heat vision!?” And letting flashbacks of all of the times he’s seen Clark use it.

And if you wanna go the public/political/social investigation route - ooooo boy! How does each of them handle that stress? Are any aspects of each other’s life harder than they thought? More pleasurable? Surprising?

Does bruce cry big alligator tears when visiting Martha Kent and she calls him “son” and looks at him with such love? Sources say yes. (Sources are my head)

Okay okay but also if they don’t know each other’s identity when the switch happens?!!?!!! Wouldn’t that be something? Alllllll the identity reveal. And the mad dash to find each other to help hide both secrets from the world. Do they form an initial alliance? Lay it all out?

Alternatively, what if Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent body switched. Neither knows the other’s superhero identity. But the sheer panic from Clark about Bruce using super strength and immediately finding out. And Bruce panicking because Alfred doesn’t know he’s not him. What if he says something in 2 seconds upon arriving home about anything batman related and this investigative journalist will now immediately know who batman is.

I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this. Not enough cohesive ones to write something. But A LOT of thoughts and feelings.

#superbat #plotbunny headcannons #AskAnswered #if anyone wants to use these ideas PLEASE take them. I’ve literally read every fic tagged ‘body switching’ for Bruce/Clark. i want MOAR

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nagipops · 3 years

Note

hii I love your blogs sooo much you're really talented (I just needed to say it sorry) so straight to the point, I already made 2 requests to you and I really enjoyed your writing so I would like to make another again. As I'm clueless about what to request I'll just ask for random hcs for konoha 11, idk if it's too much but if so then you can do with Neji (I love him so much), Kakashi and Naruto. Thank you in advance and sorry anything ^^

RANDOM KONOHA 11 HEADCANONS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, neji, rock lee, tenten, kiba, hinata, and shino

WARNINGS: mentions alcohol, drugs, food, bugs, and the tiniest nsfw mention if you get the joke. hehe

A/N: AHHHH ANONN this seriously made my day, im so so glad you enjoy my work!! 💖

NARUTO

you know how we all have “the chair”, where we throw all of our dirty clothes onto?

yeah, imagine that, but from the seat to the fricking ceiling

its just a GINORMOUS MOUND of clothes, you wonder how he even goes through that many clothes so quickly???

definitely shoves it under his bed whenever guests come over (somehow)

holds chopsticks really weirdly. but it works.

asked tenten to put his hair into space buns to mimic his sexy jutsu and went around flirting with the village

jiraiya was so proud of him T-T

comes up with the WORST pickup lines

they’re so bad, its almost charming. almost

has gone AWOL multiple times, disappearing from everywhere, just everywhere

it scared you a little, so you searched the entire village for him

you finally found him sitting on the ledge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast sea

concerned and panicked, you cried out to ask him what was wrong

he turned to you with a crestfallen, devastated look on his face and said,

“i bought shrimp ramen instead of chicken ramen.”

you’ve never searched for him after his disappearance ever again.

SAKURA

100% makes origami shurikens and chucks them at you

they are deathly precise and deathly sharp. seriously, how are these not illegal weapons yet???

writes threatening motivational notes to herself on the mirror

“u got this!” “make sure to smack naruto today!” “ino sucks!”

her backpack would always be way too high up on her back. idk why but. it would

does her hair all nice and pretty before she goes out but once she arrives to her destination SHE KEEP. TAKING. IT OUT. and redoing it over and over and over again

like it’s impossible to make eye contact with her because she’s holding a bobby pin between her teeth while braiding her hair

her guilty pleasure would be hostess treats

ding dongs are her favorite. don’t ask me how i know, i just know.

eats the yellow starbursts just to spite naruto and all her haters

loves small lap dogs, she think’s they’re so cute and cuddly

but she especially loves chihuahuas

they’re so feisty and naruto HATES them, so of course she had to go and get one for herself

dresses the poor dog up in little bonnets and jackets and ties its tiny fuzzy hairs into pigtails

she and the chihuahua are not that much unlike <3

SHIKAMARU

this man is a god at shogi but he absolutely SUCKSSSS at cup pong.

is this an ick? idk. but he is absolute trash at this game.

it gets even worse when he’s got a couple drinks in him

tries to calculate the velocity and acceleration and angle and shit but his shot is always a good two feet off BYE 😭

just mutters an “aw, shit” before awaiting his turn again

hates checkers, loves chess

“checkers is for WUSSIES” - shikamaru nara

i said this in another post, but he is Very Good at whistling

like that’s his hidden talent

can copy any tune with the perfect pitch and rhythm

speaking of, he can do really cool tricks with his tongue

like making a four leaf clover, touching the bridge of his nose with it, flipping it upside down, you name it

he has slanted, scrawled handwriting, to the point where it’s almost illegible

wbk he cheats in school SO OFTEN. but he never gets caught. he’s not stupid, he just couldn’t care less about his classes.

thinks weed and e-cigs are stupid, cigarettes are where it’s at

you just can’t replicate the feeling of taking a drag from a cig after a long, tiring day

plus he looks hella cool while doing it B)

INO

teaches the boyz™️ how to braid their hair

like they all gather in a circle around this feisty fashionista and fail attempt to braid their hair

sakura was just fuming in the sidelines

“OI, INO-PIG, THAT’S A DUTCH BRAID, NOT A FRENCH BRAID!!”

yeah, ino 🙄

the only one that can actually do it is neji because a) this man is talented af and b) he’s got the long hairrr

ino probably envies his thick, sleek hair because hE’S a bOy

also asks everyone for their blood type and zodiac signs and tells them if they’re compatible with her or not

and definitely judges you for your sign 😣

“oh, you’re a gemini? hmm, what a shame...”

makes bouquets for her favorite people and kin assigns everyone a flower

only assigns the pretty nice ones to the people she likes (sorry sakura, you’re out of luck)

one of her favorite hobbies is crafting! she’s really good with details and small things so she loves making those miniature dollhouses and stuff

also really good at watercoloring. especially painting flowers and landscapes

also i feel like she would be really good at playing any instrument because of her skilled hands

can play a badass flute solo. period.

CHOJI

would honestly rather die than get anywhere NEAR an asparagus

he just thinks they’re so gross and bitter and NOT SALTY

he always eats his yakiniku a little bit undercooked because he’s way too impatient to wait for it to cook fully. who do you think he is??

whenever he cloud gazes with shikamaru, when asked what he thinks a cloud looks like, he just says some sort of food

“oi, choji, what does that one look like to you?”

“a... yakiniku grill... with... pineapple rings on it! ooh, and a wagyu steak right there!”

he thinks pringles are an abomination to society. where’s the crisp? where’s the grease? where’s the saltiness?!!!

asks ino to teach him how to do his hair all fancy and the two of them devote an entire day learning different hairstyles

it’s his new favorite thing to do now :D

he really likes crayons!!!!

like he’ll write with them, draw with them, color with them, do everything with them

he’s even tried to eat them. he said they tasted good.

definitely had the 128 crayon pack WITH THE BUILT-IN SHARPENER, and everyone thought he was the coolest kid in town

he ate it UP, he even scored some bbq dates with the ladies

i also feel like he loves basketball, and he has a MEAN slam dunk

like his vertical isn’t that high, but the man can REACH

he loves when people laugh at him when he challenges them to a 1v1 and then proceeds to absolutely destroy them <3

NEJI

he seems like a cucumber kind of guy.

just cucumber

like i feel like he puts it in everything; soba, salads, sandwiches, his face, yeah

it’s mellow and cool, just like him!

speaking of, i feel like he lives for spa days and facials

it just lets him be alone in his little cucumber scented world for an hour or two and he gets damn clear skin from it as well

seriously he has PERFECT skin. flawless. not a single blemish. his cheeks feel like baby butts they’re so smooth.

i feel like he’d be a god at solving rubik’s cubes, don’t ask me why

like if anyone scrambled theirs on accident they would just take it to neji and he’d solve it in the blink of an eye

CAT PERSON!!! loves the little meow meows

who are we kidding, neji basically is a cat; agile, aloof, does silly things without trying to, very cute

he just feels akin to the little fuzzballs and he thinks petting cats are extremely therapeutic. good for the soul

he is a golf man. he would take his juniors golfing and everyone thinks he’s uncool. cmon neji let them go to the skate park at least T-T

also very good at karaoke, definitely surprised everyone once he got a few drinks in him since he started serenading you

LIGHTWEIGHT!!! do not get more than one shot of alcohol in him. he will go berserk.

i also feel like he’d really love photography; not taking pictures of people, but of nature

he loves taking a quiet stroll through a pretty forest and snapping pictures of all the unique flora and fauna

it’s so serene ︶ ‿ ︶

ROCK LEE

100% milly rocks everywhere

gai got in on it too once he asked what lee was doing

“is that what all the youthful cool kids do these days!”

they also dab together. a lot

DO NOT BE SEEN WITH THESE TWO!!! you are not associated with them.

definitely is the one breakdancing in the middle of the dance circle at a high school party

he’s mad skilled at it too

headspins and windmills galore

challenged naruto to a dance-off and completely OBLITERATED him

lee then asked if naruto wanted a rematch, this time with one hand tied behind lee’s back

naruto obliged, and he STILL lost

RIP naruto and his fangirls, they all scrambled to lee afterwards T-T

i feel like his favorite subject is science

not the boring physics equations and laws and theories but the fun EXPERIMENTS

definitely has singed all of his hair off one time and he went to gai blubbering to help him grow back his precious hair

but he loves experimenting with different combinations and chemicals to get different reactions each time

created a potent love potion and carried it around with him all day one day

and it was actually working

girls were flocking to him left and right, staring at his lips and his face

he was so abashed at the sudden attention

heck, it even worked on sakura

“oi, lee-san!”

“hehe, yes, sakura-san?”

her eyes shifted downwards to his lips and his heart thumped harder

“hey... lee-san?”

“what is it?”

“you have something on your lip. we’ve been trying to tell you all day but you just winked and blew kisses at us.”

legend has it lee has still not recovered to this day.

TENTEN

has THE prettiest handwriting. and she can write SUPER fast

it’s like a superpower

like she transcribed five pages of a report in less than two minutes with perfect handwriting

naruto is so jealous.

she is also super good at origami! those diligent, accurate hands aren’t just for throwing things

taught sakura how to make shurikens but does NOT endorse any violent uses of them

she can replicate all of her weapons with paper and they can actually function, it’s so cool

made paper kunai knives one day and the wholeee village wanted to get their hands on them

i feel like she’d listen to mitski. idk i just get those vibes

LOVES BIG DOGS!! especially fluffy wuffy samoyeds

like man’s best friend?? no, GIRL’S BEST FRIEND!!

hugs and cuddles and squishes all the big dogs

she thinks small dogs are spawns of satan

sakura and her have definitely quarreled over this

but at the end of the day, all dogs are adorable fur babies, so she lets it slide :,)

KIBA

kiba always looks SO GOOD in photos you take of him, candid or not

like you could just whip out a camera and snap a photo of him at any given moment and he would look perfect

you framed a picture of him yelling at akamaru for peeing inside the house

it’s pure artwork

i feel like he tries to swagger around with his hands shoved in his pockets but it fails MISERABLY and the girls are wondering if he broke his leg or something 😭

kiba just walk normally. for the love of god please just walk normally.

he tries to slump back in his chair really low but one time he slouched way too low so he slipped off of his chair and onto the ground LMFAOOOO

he just wallowed there... in shame...

also.. he LOVES when the girls put makeup on him!!

he tries to act like he hates it. but it secretly gives him so much confidence

not to mention the girls hyping him up are a huge ego boost

okay the inside of his jacket hood is the warmest. thing. EVER!!!

seriously, no wonder this dude is so happy-go-lucky all the time, he’s living in literal heaven 24/7

it’s like you’re sleeping on a cloud inside a warm, cozy bed during a cold winter morning

10/10 would recommend letting him give you his sweatshirt when you’re chillin with a hair tie ❤️

HINATA

always smells like lavender soap. always

also has the cutest pencil pouches with little puppy faces and kawaii things

oH and she has those mini yoobi highlighters, she thinks they’re so cute (and functional!)

everyone flocks to her to try them out and marvel at the cute tiny highlighters

and they try to steal them from her but she doesn’t even stop them because she’s too timid to 😭

naruto goes BALLISTIC over them

she lets him have all of them <3

tennis girl!!! tennis girl.

all of her opponents always underestimate her because she’s so timid and shy and quiet

but she has a KILLER serve

and then she takes her opponents to the slaughterhouse with a complete shutout ;)

she’s really athletic believe it or not, she can beat most of the boys in a mile run and she has incredible endurance

i feel like she really loves velvet scrunchies

she just thinks they’re so pretty and they keep her hair soft so they’re cute and functional

also takes the PRETTIEST notes!!

color codes, dividers, headers, you name it, it’s all super readable too its insane

everyone asks her for her notes, not to study but just to appreciate the pure artwork that it is ^w^

SHINO

shino is SO easy to prank

“how do you catch an eyemaster?” *cue naruto and kiba snickering*

“eyemaster bait. that is because—”

even when everyone’s laughing their asses off, he still continues to explain his answer since he does NOT GET THE JOKE

tried his hand at writing haikus

here’s his best one so far:

“Bugs are amazing. That is because they are bugs. Bugs are very nice.” - Shino Aburame

VERY proud of it, since it took him weeks to perfect

praise it, pls

had one of those ant farms and bug-catching kits as a kid

and he would fill the kit TO THE BRIM. LIKE IT WAS HEAVY BECAUSE THERE WERE SO MANY BUGS.

he loves the little chitters of the different bugs

he had jars of different bugs all lined up on a wall shelf in his room

collects silkworms off of trees and sticks them into his pockets (no i definitely did not do this as a kid...)

HELP I FEEL LIKE he would record a timelapse of his ant farm growing and upload it to youtube with a movie maker title screen that says

“my ants”

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

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not-all-dead · 3 years

Note

"It’s not a surprise when the Chief of Police comes out. There have been betting pools for years, and the announcement is met with mostly indifference. What is a surprise, however, is the interview that comes out alongside the announcement. The interview that is complete with a photoshoot of Lin Beifong in civilian clothes, talking about the challenges of her position. No one can remember the last time the Chief has given an interview, and the photo becomes the talk of the town."

How do you think the interview goes? What would Lin say?

link to (what i believe was) the original post of this! with some amazing art that VERY much helped me write this :DD (by @mgthejerkbender)

i was originally just gonna write a dialogue or notes for this but uh- i got a little carried away so here’s a 3687 word fic of the interview oops

CW: implications of past trauma (mentions of r@pe/s*xual assa*lt, public humiliation, not graphic at all), homophobia, sexism

fic under the cut :)

Lin walked into the room in a soft green turtleneck and dark brown pants that almost looked black without the light. There was sound equipment set up all over the place, with two armchairs in the middle of it all. A desk sat over to the side, a typewriter and paper sitting atop it. Quite a few people were rushing around, making sure that everything was in place for the broadcast. She watched a young woman sit at the desk, prepping the typewriter to transcribe the entire thing.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Lin turned to see a man in his early forties standing with a small journal behind her.

He wore a plain suit with a pale orange tie, his greying hair slicked back neatly. His eyes flitted around the room, checking things briefly for himself before focusing on Lin. He opened the notebook to a page about a quarter of the way through and smiled at Lin, nodding at the chairs behind her.

“Care to sit?” he asked, moving toward the chairs.

She took the seat farthest from where they’d just been standing, shifting to get comfortable while she waited for him to sit and get things rolling. She didn’t want to admit it, but her heart was racing. She hadn’t done anything like this is ages, especially not so casually. The topic of discussion also made her nervous, both because her job was something she rarely spoke of with anyone outside a professional context, and because of the announcement that would come with the interview. She’d encountered plenty of bigoted people in the past, and had no doubt that her officially coming out would only press them to question her position more than usual.

She picked idly at the fuzzballs on her turtleneck until the man sitting beside her cleared his throat. Her head snapped up to look at him, her body tensing briefly before seeing that he was testing the microphones. She sighed and relaxed slightly, speaking into the microphone placed before her when the sound technician prompted her to do so. Once everything seemed to be in place and ready to go, the broadcast started.

“Welcome, listeners, to tonight’s special program. I’m your host, Kaja Posicopolis, here with our esteemed Chief of Police, Lin Beifong. So, Chief, how are you on this fine night?” he started, putting on his radio voice.

“Good, I’m good,” Lin responded, leaning slightly forwards in her seat.

“That’s good to hear. I think I’ll launch right into our questions if you don’t mind, we’ve got a lot to get through tonight,” Lin nodded when he looked over to her, giving him the go ahead.

“Why don’t we start with something positive. What’s your favourite thing about your position as Chief? What about the job brings you the most joy?” he turned to watch her while waiting for her answer.

She looked at the floor for a moment, thinking before speaking.

“I think I’d have to say getting to help people. Ever since I was young I’ve wanted to protect others as much as possible, and being Chief makes that a lot easier and a lot more… legal,” he joined her when she chuckled lightly, but her smile only lasted a moment.

“Of course, I’m not perfect, and there are always times when things go wrong. I can’t say that those times don’t affect me, but I try to think of the people we as a force have helped over the years and that keeps me going,” she took a deep breath and looked to Kaja as he glanced at his notepad.

“That leads right into my next question; how do you do it? Not even your infamous mother was Chief for as long as you’ve been, and her time was already impressive. You’ve given so much to Republic City already, why, and how, do you keep giving?” there was a look of wonder and admiration on his face when he finished the question.

“I grew up in Republic City. It always has been, and will be, my home. And who doesn’t want to protect their home? I think that as long as I live here, I’ll be working to do anything in my power to help the city. I hate watching neighborhoods suffer… actually, I’m working on a plan with President Moon at the moment with the hopes of helping out the poorer parts of the city, providing homes for the homeless, all that good stuff. I just want to see Republic City thriving, and I want to help it get to that point. As I said before, it’s my home; everyone here is part of a community, a family, if you will, and that means everything to me,” Lin leaned back, resting against the cushion behind her, setting her right foot on her left knee.

“That’s a beautiful sentiment, thank you. I love the idea of the city being one big family, and that project sounds like it’ll be very good for the future of Republic City,” Kaja turned his gaze back to his notes, stopping the conversation briefly.

“The next question I have here is less uppity; what has your biggest struggle been with regards to your job?”

“That’s a hard one,” she paused. “I’ve had many struggles with work over my years as Chief, but I think of everything that’s happened… being a woman, and a queer one at that, has definetly taken it’s toll. Other things have been more directly challenging, but that’s been present since day one.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that?” he prompted leaning slightly towards her.

She inhaled and held her breath for a split second before sighing lightly.

“Sure, why not,” she gave a small smile to Kaja before starting.

“When I was much younger, just starting out in the force, I could already see the inherent bias against women that so many male officers held. My mother wasn’t immune to their verbal attacks, though she would give them a good… sparring match, lets say, if they ever so much as laid a finger on her. After a few times, that generally stopped happening, but people would still talk. The number of disgusting, awful things I heard coming from some of those men…” she huffed and shifted in her seat, putting one elbow on her armrest and resting her head on her hand.

“Anyway, I started to pay attention to every little thing. I noticed how many male politicians talked down to my mother, and not because of her blindness. Even a few of the men on our own council at the time would treat her as less-than for no apparent reason.

“I saw it happening in my own life and career, too. How my male counterparts got the promotion before I was even considered, despite performing just as well as them, if not better. How I was never asked for input on supposedly collective decisions or plans, and if I was or tried to interject, I was almost always dismissed. It seemed like any man of higher or equal rank to me thought I was some… assistant to bring him coffee and reports and not do any actual work.

“Seeing that attitude so often pissed me off. I made it my mission to prove myself beyond what was necessary. I wanted to show them that I could do anything they could just as well, sometimes even better. My work paid off eventually and I began to climb the ranks, not letting myself rest for a second. And I wanted to help people as well, of course, but it started out more as wanting to teach those bastards a lesson,” she moved again, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward on her elbows.

“Once I became Chief, a lot of people seemed determined to put me down. Practically every man, be he politician or merchant on the street, told me something insinuating that I was handed the position just because my mother was Chief before me. Every time I wanted to yell at them, to show them records of how hard I’d worked to get there, how much harder I’d had to work than most of my colleagues. With the politicians and other major figureheads, how much harder I’d had to work than they probably had.

“It was frustrating, but I got used to it. It was a constant that came with working a so-called, and I’m not making this up, it’s been said directly to my face before, ‘Man’s job’,” she stopped for a moment and looked over at Kaja, who was staring at her in disbelief.

She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his expression before looking back down and continuing.

“There was also the issue of my queerness,” she shook her head and took a deep breath, sitting back as she continued.

“I started working as a proper officer when I was about eighteen. Within my first year working, I was-,” she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth for a second.

“I had an encounter with a man, an older officer who was overseeing the training group I was a part of. He tried to initiate certain… activities with me, none of which I wanted to partake in. I did manage to get rid of him and filed a report against him, but it wasn’t the last time it happened.

“I was a pretty regular customer at a few of the underground bars for people like me at the time. I did my best to hide my face when I left, but there were always times I was careless, or somebody saw me in the seconds I let my guard down. Usually it was no big deal, but occasionally it was someone from work. Once, it was that man.

“He found me at work the next day and asked me about it. Yelled at me, really. He tried to make it seem like that’s why I’d denied him, and the names he called me weren’t pretty to say the least. He started to physically attack me, throwing punch after punch and not giving me the slightest chance to fight back.

“After that day, I stopped going to those bars altogether. The first time I went back to one was actually just a few years ago. I started dating Tenzin a few years later, and though people weren’t so outwardly expressive of their opinions on my relationships, the disapproval was still present.

“By the time Tenzin and I split up, I think some people still suspected my queerness, but it wasn’t a widely adopted theory. I had my fair share of men approach me, some with better intentions than others, and turned down most of them. Some of them didn’t react all that well, and I ended up filing several more reports. I don’t think any of them actually got charged, though.

“I entertained short romances with some men, some women too. Nothing stuck, not really anyway. I kept every relationship very quiet, including those with men, just for the sake of privacy. When I was with women, it was also to avoid getting hate-crimed, but I really did prefer to keep at least some things private.

“In the context of work, there were also challenges. That first superior to try getting at me like that must’ve talked, telling anyone who would listen about my excursions to the underground bars. People looked at me oddly in just about any shared workspace there was, though a few times I made friends because of it. Those were always good times, even if few and far between.

“Some people just gave a judgemental stare or vaguely rude comment every so often, but a few others took it further. Much further,” she looked up to the ceiling as she recalled another story.

“I had a supervisor when I was probably about, oh, twenty seven or so. He was a few ranks below my mother, and I one below him. He decided that one day it would be absolutely hysterical to cover my desk in obscene printed images of women I didn’t recognize, along with toys of a certain nature. I was mortified when I came in and saw the spectacle. The worst part was that almost everyone working in that part of the building at the time laughed with him, and those who didn’t weren’t exactly helpful.

“I didn’t come back to work for a week after that. It was awful, his stupid prank making me so shamed of who I was, who I loved. I know now that my loving both women and men isn’t a bad thing, and is simply part of me. It was harder to accept that, to accept myself, when I saw people like him in positions of power over me.

“I kept working though, and there was never an incident quite like that one again. A few others were more directly hateful than most, but it was easier to deal with. As with people treating me as less because of my gender, I got used to it,” she turned to Kaja, a hint of guilt on her face after talking for so long.

He shook his head, disbelief still spread across his face. His eyes flitted back and forth between floor tiles as he searched for the right words to respond.

“That sounds awful. I’m so sorry you had to deal with people like that,” he looked back up at Lin.

“So am I,” she scoffed, her fingers picking at her turtleneck again.

There was a small silence before Kaja looked back down at his notepad and then at the clock on the wall.

“We’ve got enough time for one last question, so is there anything you’d like to tell young women and queer people living in the city?” His expression was almost hopeful now, desperate to end off on a lighter note.

Lin smiled in amusement at him before looking down at her hands, fiddling her thumbs in her lap. After a moment, she looked back up at him and started speaking again.

“Absolutely,” she began, her gaze drifting around the room and landing on each individual at least once.

“To all the women working your asses off in the workforce: stand up for yourself. Don’t let any man devalue you because of your gender. Be the best you can be and wipe the smiles clean off their faces as you do it. Start your own businesses, get that promotion, set goals for yourself and fly past them. You can do just about anything you put your mind to, despite what many men might say,” her voice was strong, almost commanding as she began her final statement.

“And to all the young queer people out there; you are so, so strong. Keep loving each other, keep being yourselves. I know how awful people can be, but their opinions do not define you. You are perfect exactly as you are, and nothing can change that. It might seem like it’ll never be true, but I believe we will live in a time when acceptance is the norm. I believe that that time, with hard work and patience with those who need teaching, will be here soon.”

“Perfect. Thank you so much for your time, Chief,” Kaja said, looking at the clock again.

“Thank you for having me,” Lin replied, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“And with that, folks, we wrap up today’s special broadcast. I’ll be back in the studio tomorrow resuming our usual radio program. Until then, I’m Kaja Posicopolis, and this is eighty six point four, your favourite music station,” Kaja finished, staying silent for a few seconds until a man from across the room nodded at him.

He rolled his head around and got up from his chair, setting his notepad down behind him.

“How are you now?” he asked Lin as he stretched his arms out and cracked his back.

Lin scoffed and stood, going through a couple of her own stretches. She straightened her shirt and tucked a few stray hairs back before responding.

“I feel like I just stood naked in front of the entire city,” she said, unable to hold back a small smile when Kaja laughed.

“Well, we’re about to expose you even more. You ready for the photo shoot?” he grabbed his notebook and pen and closed them, watching Lin for an answer.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Lin sighed before following him out of the room.

They walked down several long hallways, eventually coming to a large open room. The walls and floor were a pale grey cement, and there were expensive looking lights set up all over the place. A dark green upholstered bench sat to one side of the room, a tall light shining down on it. A few people saw them coming in and rushed around, turning off almost every other light. One of them knocked on a door that was on the other end of the room, calling for someone inside.

“This seems a bit excessive,” Lin muttered, her eyes wandering the room.

“Only the best for you, Chief,” a man said from somewhere in the shadows.

Lin glanced behind her only to see Kaja talking to someone near the door. When she turned back to where the voice had come from, she had to bite back a laugh. She tried not to, but couldn’t help smiling at the absolute glow that radiated from the man in front of her.

“You like my outfit?” he asked with a grin, twirling around for her.

He had on bright red fit-and-flare pants with a stripe of gold sequins down their side; a matching red low-cut tank top; a purple feather-covered knee-length jacket; gold sparkly platform shoes that made him tower over Lin more than he already would have; and a top hat that belonged with a businessman’s black tie attire.

“It’s incredible,” Lin chuckled, crossing her arms casually over her chest.

“You look sharp yourself today, Chief,” he said with a grin, taking a few steps towards her.

Before she could object, he pulled her into a tight hug. His arms squashed her face against his lower chest, making Lin painfully aware of the extent of their height difference. She laughed and patted his arm, thankfully getting him to release her.

“I’m assuming you’re the photographer, then?” she asked, grinning up at him.

He nodded enthusiastically and spun on his heel, walking back into the darkness. She heard a couple of small crashes and a string of profanities before he came back, a large camera and it’s stand filling his arms.

“Uh- where am I going?” he asked Lin, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She let out a small laugh and stepped towards him, placing her hand on his arm. She guided him towards the bench setup, stopping them near where the light stood.

“Thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed, setting down the camera’s stand first and then fastening the camera to it.

“Of course,” Lin breathed, suddenly nervous to have her photo taken.

The photographer immediately noticed her mood change and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you look,” he closed his eyes and blew a chef's kiss to the side.

Lin nodded and took a deep breath, filling her lungs as much as she could before letting it all out. The photographer made a few adjustments to the camera stand, making sure it would stay while he got her in position, and then led her to the bench. He sat her down in the middle of it and walked back to his camera, dragging the stand loudly over so he was more to her right.

“Don’t be so stiff,” he called, looking at her through the viewfinder and flapping his hand in the air.

“Just- pretend I’m not here, you’re just sitting at home listening to the radio.”

He stepped back from the camera and watched Lin as she settled her head on her left fist with her right elbow on her knee. The photographer gave her a big thumbs up, calling “Much better!” and going back to looking through his camera.

He shifted it a few times before taking any photos, wanting to get it right in as few shots as possible considering the price and rarity of film in stores. Lin looked at the camera for the first few, looking away because of her boredom growing steadily. When he seemed satisfied with the shots, he took the camera off the stand and walked over to the bench.

“Room for another?” he asked, not letting Lin answer before settling himself beside her.

The images printed slowly, one at a time. After each was out, he placed them in the shadow under the bench to protect them from overexposure. Once the last one printed, he reached down and grabbed the first. It had settled well, the colours coming out nice and bright.

“It’s perfect,” Lin gasped, staring in wonder at the photo that managed to make her alright with how she looked out-of-uniform.

The photographer grinned at her, holding the photo up.

“I agree,” he said proudly, forgetting his other photos and standing.

Lin watched as he brought the photo to Kaja, engaging the shorter man in a quick and lively discussion before handing off the photo and walking back. He grinned ear to ear at her, and she sighed before relenting and giving a small smile back.

“Nervous, Chief?” he asked, standing before her with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

Lin chuckled and shook her head.

“I just haven’t done something like this in ages… or ever, really,” she said, her hands moving to grip the edge of the bench.

“Hey,” the photographer moved to place a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to look up at him.

“You’re doing great, Chief, trust me,” Lin let out a breath and really smiled at him this time.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, meaning it with every ounce of her being.

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

And so preparations for the final event begin! Let’s see if these being one on one matches helps me get through them a bit faster when I’m not having to transcribe quite so much action all at once.

[No. 32 - Smile, Prince of Nonsense Land!]

Another character profile to start out with! (I swear I’m gonna have to make a post compiling these once we’ve gotten all of them for class 1a… maybe run a comparison with the end of chapter profiles? Eh shrug.)

I swear, my instincts say that something that that tail should not be as flexible as it is because of its circumference. I know, I know, quirks, freaking magic, don’t think about it, but still. It’s a very straightforward quirk with a surprising amount of utility, and he makes full use of it. Good for him! Now, onto the chapter proper.

Kirishima is pretty hyped for a tournament, thinking about how they’ll be up in ‘that ring he sees on TV every year.’ Mina asks him if it was a tournament last year as well, but Sero’s the one to answer - the format’s always different, but most years involve some kind of head to head competition. (Apparently the year before theirs involved foam sword fighting, and now I’m incredibly disappointed we didn’t get to see that for this sports festival finale… would have been absolutely hilarious.)

Midnight holds up a box of lots, saying that match-ups will be decided by drawing lots. Once that’s done, they’ll move on to the festivities and then the tournament itself. It’s up to each of the sixteen finalists whether or not they participate in the fun, since she figures some of them would rather take a breather and save their strength.

She starts to call for the first place team to draw lots, but Ojiro raises his hand, calling for her attention. He then states that he’d like to drop out, much to the shock of the others. Someone (I think Kirishima?) asks him why, since this is his chance of being noticed by the pros. Ojiro stats that he has no memories of the cavalry battle or anything that happened in it up until the tail end. And it’s probably his quirk that did that.

Ohh, ominous. And Izuku’s really concerned for Ojiro here. Ojiro states that he knows this is a great opportunity, and he knows it seems stupid to throw it away, but this final turnament… everyone else made it with their own strength. But he’s standing here and he doesn’t even know how or why. He just can’t take it.

Hagakure says that he’s thinking about it too hard, and that he can just show what he’s made of in the tournament. Mina agrees, saying that by that logic, she shouldn’t really be here either. Ojiro starts crying, hiding his face in his hand as he shakes, explaining that he’s talking about his pride here. He doesn’t think it’s right. (He also has no idea why the girls are dressed like that. Really, the entire cheerleader gimmick seems a bit… awkward, here.)

Izuku has no idea what to say. But class B’s Nirengeki does - kind of. He admits that he can’t remember anything either, so he wants to withdraw as well. This is a contest of skill, so letting someone who didn’t do anything advance… doesn’t that defeat the whole point of the sports festival? Isn’t it against the rules?

Kirishima starts to tear up, calling the two manly. Up in the booth, Present Mic announces the strange turn of events, while Aizawa wonders what Midnight, as the coordinator, will decide. Midnight’s ruling?

She likes it. The two are allowed to withdraw. Aoyama puts a hand on Ojiro’s shoulder and promises to win it for him.

Midnight tells the kids that replacing the two will be members of team Kendo, who took fifth. Kendo replies that if it’s gonna be like that, then shouldn’t it be team Tetsu instead? Her team was immobilized pretty much the whole time, while team Tetsu were giving it their all to keep what they had until the very end. She then hastens to assure that they aren’t colluding or anything, it just feels right.

Tetsutetsu is in tears by the gesture. After a brief transition, it’s decided that Tetsutetsu and Shiozaki will join the finalists, bringing the number back up to sixteen. And with that, the match-ups can be drawn!

Izuku notes that if he wins his first match, his second’s gonna be against Shouto. Which I feel is very rude of him to just entirely discount the possibility of Sero winning the match. I mean, it’s an honest assessment, but STILL. Rude. Anyways, before his match with Shouto, he still has to face off against Shinsou, who has to be-

And speak of the devil, there’s the guy in question. He wants to know if he’s Midoriya Izuku, which startles Izuku. Izuku recognizes him from the declaration of war two weeks back. He goes to respond, only to be cut off by Ojiro’s tail over his mouth. Shinsou huffs and turns t head away, while Ojiro warns Izuku not to answer him.

We get a few other reactions from some of the other students: Shouto contemplates how his match with Izuku will be sooner than expected, and that he wants Izuku to bring his best before he takes him down. Katsuki wonders out loud who Uraraka is, which startles an eep out of her, possibly for using her actual name. Mei approaches Tenya, chucking as she starts to ask him something. And Present Mic announces that they’re setting aside the tournament for the time being, and getting on with the thrill-a-minute festivities.

There’s a few snapshots of what everyone is up to over the course of the side events: some of the non-finalists racing massive balls (probably rubber?) around the inside perimeter of the stadium, Ojiro talking to a stressed out Izuku, Tokoyami napping in a tree, Tenya drinking five (5) cans of orange juice, Katsuki doing… something, Shouto crouched down resting somewhere outside the stadium, and finally some students searching for items on the cards they were given. Oh, right, and the girls are doing cheerleader stuff, with Hagakure being the most enthusiastic, and Jirou and Momo as the least.

Honestly, with that jump, Hagakure is either buff as heck, or Ochako is lending her a hand.

While all this is happening, Izuku is narrating how some people preferred to psych themselves up, while others tried to relax. Everyone was dealing with it differently. And before they knew it, the time had come.

We come back into the narrative as Cementoss is just finishing up crafting the battle platform from scratch, which is honestly incredibly impressive. I guess his manipulation of cement includes being able to dry it out super fast. And really, with how it looks, he’s just showing off. Especially with those torches, like, those can’t have been made from cement. Were they just put there and the cement set around them? Did he use the cement to manipulate them into place? I have questions, sir.

As I said, showing off just a touch.

Present Mic thanks Cementoss before asking the crowds if they’re ready. He talks about how the students have been through hell to get here, but now it’s time for the one-on-one tournament! They’ll only have themselves to rely on. Even if someone isn’t a hero, that saying holds true! You know it! Spirit, technique, strength, wisdom, and knowledge! Use them all and show us your best!

...They’ll only have themselves to rely on, even applied to non-heroes? Uh, wow. Talk about the underlying 𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓾𝓮𝓼 showing up here. I honestly can’t help but think that Izuku’s issues with heading off alone in the current manga arc has less to do with emulating All Might, and more absorbing all these small asides and comments from all the staff of UA. Which is fucking 𝕪𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤.

Anyways, while Mic’s doing his thing, Izuku is trying to calm himself before his match, only for Toshinori to come up to talk to him. He notes how it took a while, but Izuku’s finally getting the hang of using One For All, and gives Izuku a wonky thumbs up. Izuku is surprised to see his mentor there, but also corrects him - he doesn’t really have a hang of it, he’s still uneasy. He brings up his microwave visualization thing, and how he’s been trying to recall when he launched it at the villain, but it still feels dangerous. As if he could fall apart if he loses focus for a second, and, well, it’s like Toshinori saw. Given the level his body is at, even when Izuku controls it, it only gives a small boost in power.

Toshinoir thinks on it for a bit, before reminding Izuku about that talk about giving it between zero and a hundred. As Izuku is now, heis body’s capable of about five percent. Izuku considers that, thinking that if it’s like that, then he’s just gotten lucky with everything. Toshinori gives him a few thwacks on the head and neck, telling Izuku that that’s because he’s always been trying his hardest, calling him a prince of nonsense. He also chides Izuku, saying he’ll never be a hero looking so mopey.

While Izuku recovers from the assault, Toshinori tells him to listen, before stating that especially when Izuku is feeling worried or scared, that’s when he needs to smile. Izuku’s come this far, so show some bravado, even if it’s fake. To punctuate this, Toshinori swells up into All Might, giving him another thumbs up. And I guess it kind of works as motivation, since Izuku seems less stressed?

Anywho, we finally get into the first match! Present Mic announces the two, with Izuku getting a comment about his making a weird face despite his good performance, and Shinsou getting a comment about not having done anything to stand out yet. The rules are simple - win by knocking out your opponent, immobilizing them, or getting them to say ‘I give up!’ Bring the pain! Recovery Girl’s on standby. And fight dirty if you must! ‘Ethics’ have no meaning here!

...this explains why Shinsou immediately went for such a low blow.

Anywho, Cementoss makes himself a seat to watch from, so as to be prepared to stop the match at any time. Present Mic clarifies that going for the kill is a big no-no and will disqualify you, because a true hero’s fists fly only when in pursuit of villains.

Shinsou starts talking, contemplating the ‘I give up’ option before asking Izuku if he gets it? That this battle’s going to test his strength of will. If you have any kind of vision for your future, there’s no sense in worrying about how you get there. Like that monkey, babbling about his stupid pride.

Wow is Izuku pissed. Present Mic announces the start of the match as Shinsou rhetorically asks what kind of dumbass throws away a chance like this. Izuku rushes forward furiously demanding to know what Shinsou just said - only to stop dead. Shinsou calls it his win, while in the stands, Ojiro is stressing out, tail flailing as he snaps at how he’d warned Izuku about this. Toshinori is waiting at the entrance to the stadium, confused.

Present Mic asks what’s wrong, the battle’s just started, show some spirit! Mere seconds into the match, Izuku is frozen in place?

And we end the chapter on that cliffhanger. What an introduction to Shinsou, and we have more to go in the next… one or two chapters, can’t recall.

Anywho, see y’all next time for spooky quirk shenanigans! Can’t believe our first ghost sighting is about to happen. Fricken love ghosts.

#chapter 32 #readthrough #sports festival arc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #yagi toshinori #shinsou hitoshi #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #ojiro mashirao #shouda nirengeki #kayama nemuri #Kirishima Eijirou #Sero Hanta #kendo itsuka #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #cementoss #ofa ghosts my beloved

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margridarnauds · 4 years

Note

I think it’s just awful how so much mythology, folk lore, local local legends etc. Aren’t easily available online. But is their a reason why those with access to these stories aren’t able to put them online themselves?

Mainly, as far as I’m aware (keeping in mind that I’m just one person in the field and I’ve not been here for very long), the reason is copyright.

That and, to be honest, a little bit of classism (can’t have the rabble accessing our nice, bright, shiny sources!) My field, while we’re gradually accepting that you can be a Celticist coming from a lower class background, still do kind of pin a bit on the idea of the gentleman scholar - A polymath who’s already studied French, German, Latin, and Greek and who can therefore take to Old Irish and Medieval Welsh like a fish to water. For many in the field, there’s the expectation that you already have at the very least an understanding of Gaeilge, or that you already have a strong linguistic background, and that can cause a massive break between the public and the scholars involved. Especially in the instance of editions which, by their nature, are JUST the Irish, with no English translation. Because, hey, it’s just Old Irish, right? There’s a dictionary at the back!

Both UCC and UCD have, to their credit, done an IMMENSE amount of work in making these resources available to the public. UCC has done wonders with their CELT database and Irish Sagas Online, UCD with their Thesaurus Lingua Hibernicae. They’ve done a truly magnificent thing there, and I wouldn’t have been able to enter the field without the diligence and hard work of everyone involved in both projects. The problem is that many of the sources involved are...well. Old. We’ve learned a lot about the Irish language since a lot of these were done, specifically about Old Irish. A lot of them are in very archaic language, because that was the translating style at the time, and some of them cut out whole portions of text. Because it’s got to be in the public domain to be legal, unless you have an instance where the scholar is able to grant permission for their recent edition/translation to be released, such as in the case of Gray’s Cath Maige Tuired, which was given a special release on CELT. On a folkloric level, Duchas is doing amazing work.

What you have to keep in mind is that, unlike Classical studies....we’re a BABY as a field. Many texts still haven’t been translated. Many texts still haven’t even been given editions. And a LOT of work goes into making both editions and translations happen and there are...very few of us that can do the work to make it happen. I would estimate that there’s fewer than 100 Celticists worldwide. It might be as many as two hundred but I strongly doubt it. Hence why, in many of the cases, the last translation was made in either the 19th or early 20th century. It’s because, frankly, since then, no one’s had the time or energy to go over it again, and people were trying to do new editions/translations. With stories like the Iliad and the Odyssey, you can VERY easily get ahold of one of those online because, while there are a ton of newer translations that you won’t be able to get ahold of as easily (Emily Wilson’s Odyssey, for example), there are a LOT of older translations that are still very viable, because you’ve had people studying these texts for literal centuries. In our case, we’re lucky to have one older translation. We...we’ve been around for a little while, really getting our first breath of life in the 18th century, but we only really hit our golden age with the Celtic Revival and the establishment of the Republic, and then we kind of fell out of fashion. A lot of the time, when I ask my supervisor “Has anyone done anything on x subject?”, he’ll give me this kind of beleaguered “Well....”, not because Celticists haven’t cared about the material, but because their hands have been full in a hundred places.

And it’s worse for mythographers, because we are a very tiny section of Celtic Studies. Tiny. You’ll notice that, in my source list, a lot of the names repeat a lot. Why? Well, part of it’s because I personally like their work, but part of it is also that these ARE the big names in the world of the Mythological Cycle. These are the ones who are REALLY focusing and doing a ton of work on it. Other scholars might touch on it, do an article here or there, but very few really commit to it, in the end. In my own program, I’m basically the only one of the MA students with a mythological focus, and even in the department as a whole...I’m basically one of very few. Ulster Cycle and Fenian Cycle get more, but the Mythological Cycle...I don’t want to say there’s a STIGMA against it, but there’s........a different feeling, being in it. A lot of mythological material is still being transcribed and translated, a lot of it is still being talked about for the first time, and we’re pl

In my time, I’ve done two editions/translations of a text, the latter of which was almost completely incomprehensible at points, the vellum that the ink was written on being of a very poor quality; the bottom third of so of the folio was totally faded. Both of those times, it fell to me to transcribe the material, reading it letter by letter, trying to figure out what various abbreviations meant (Irish scribes used a very specialized form of shorthand that, while perfectly comprehensible to them, isn’t always so to us), and then having to translate it, keeping in mind that in some cases, the Irish was a mixture of later Irish and Old Irish. Translating Old Irish is a bit like trying to wrestle with a snake at times - It’s unpredictable, it’s wriggly, and it feels, at times, like just when you think you’re holding onto the head, it shifts and you realize you’re holding onto the tail. It isn’t something that you can really do just because you feel in the mood to do it one day and then publish on Tumblr; it’s a VERY intense process that involves a lot of time, effort, and tears. (Seriously. A lot of tears.)

And...no one gets rich out of Celtic studies. Every one of us who’s either entering into the field or is actually in the field has accepted that it’s a labor of love; I’m statistically unlikely to get a job IN the field and I’ve accepted it. It could very well end up that I get my MA, maybe even my PhD and then...that’s it, done. Now, this isn’t meant to be a pity party, but it does explain why a lot of scholar’s can’t JUST give out pdfs of their books - They do need to get paid, at least a little, though if I’m not mistaken, once they submit their articles to a journal....that’s it. They’ve gotten as much money as they’re going to get. So that could be a factor in why articles tend to get handed out much easier. Books also....keep in mind, we don’t digitize a LOT of our stuff. It was part of why Covid kicked Celtic Studies’ ass. Suddenly, you had a bunch of scholars around the world used to having access to a library who...no longer had access to a library. Or the books in them. I was personally amazed that Tom O’Donnell’s recent book on Fosterage and Mark Williams’ Ireland’s Immortals were actually released in Ebook format, because that’s still a little on the unusual side. We’re slowly coming to terms with the 21st century, but it’s difficult.

Anyway, that’s the answer: Most of it isn’t INTENTIONALLY trying to keep the public out, and for many of the scholars, I know very well that they really want the public to have access to that stuff, but their hands are tied by copyright law + needing to make some amount of money in the very unfair world of academia. I hope that some part of this makes sense. We do want to do more work with the public, it’s just that...well. Copyright law and academia. They’re bastards.

#long post #Anonymous

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kingk8art · 4 years

Text

hetalia rant

pls ignore how I won't use any proper punctuation or capitalization because my arms and fingers all hurt from volleyball :( Edit: My arm’s are better now so I’m actually using proper capitalization and punctuation (special thanks to my friends for proofreading and also Google autocorrect.) Special thanks to my friend for helping me out with writing this.

so i'm one of those people who joined the hetalia fandom like REALLY late, having first watched the anime in like 2017 or 18. Nevertheless, when I heard about how the anime was coming back in 2021 I was really excited!! I’ve been reading world stars lately but there’s just something in the hetalia anime that made me love it so much. the voice acting and how it’s animated and everything, it really brings the characters to life! out of curiosity I searched up hetalia on twitter. keep in mind that i’m pretty new to the fandom so i never really got to see the shipping wars, or really any toxic part of the fandom, since i wasn’t there when hetalia was at its peak.

What i saw was really different from what i expected to see. I kinda expected twitter threads hyping up the new season, or things like that but most of ones I found in the top section were hate comments about hetalia, and things about why it shouldn’t come back. I was reading these and I was like, wait why? Some of them actually made sense, and the others had flawed logic. Here are my rants on why hetalia ISN’T anti-Semitic or problematic (as of now).

Misconceptions About Hetalia

1. Hetalia is About Nazi Germany or the Holocaust

If you’ve actually watched the show/read the manga, it’s quite obvious that although some of the events take place during WW2, it never mentions Hitler, Nazis, the Holocaust, or anything like that. and there’s a good reason for it. In the first place, hetalia isn’t meant to be a serious comic. The manga only focuses on subjects like funny things that happened to historical figures/occurrences during a war, weird inventions; generally those kinds of things. It focuses on the cultural differences between countries, or wholesome moments in history (such as when two enemies stopped fighting on Christmas day to play soccer.) Hetalia itself is antiwar. Consider the main character himself: he absolutely hates fighting. I don’t see how hetalia can be anti-Semitic or pro-war at all. But what I will say is fucked up are those certain cosplayers that did the Nazi salute, posed in front of a Holocaust memorial, etc. But I can still guarantee that the MAJORITY of the fandom is not like this. Every single fandom has its bad apples, some more than others. It’s not right to generalize the entire fandom as anti-Semitic, racist, disrespectful shits.

Do people realize that Germany’s character in Hetalia isn’t Nazi Germany? In the first place the Holocaust wouldn’t be Germany’s responsibility — the depictions of these characters are meant to portray the people as a whole, not their systems of law or government. It’s stated in the series that nations MUST obey orders from their “boss” (which probably refers to the country’s ruler, president, prime minister, or other leaders at the time. Nations can’t choose what their superiors do, or what those under that control do. Saying Germany is humanized Nazi Germany is like putting that label on all German people without considering factors like time period or representation. Hetalia characters are a mere representation of each country’s people, nothing else.

How does mentioning WW2 in a comedy make it offensive? There are PLENTY of movies, novels, and other kinds of media that take place in WW2 and yet are in the comedy genre. Ever watched Jojo Rabbit? If you thought Hetalia was offensive, have you ever watched South Park or looked at CountryHumans? I do get why some people dislike Hetalia, but why does it receive so much hate for something that was never in the series (or generally speaking, for the wrong reasons)? It may have flaws, but there’s a strong definition to what those flaws actually are. It doesn’t revolve around antisemitism or Nazism.

2. Hetalia is Racist and Stereotypes People

Now this is a pretty controversial topic. Being a comedy about personified countries, stereotypes are really something that HAS to be used at some point to make the characters funny. But does that automatically make it racist? No. I saw this on a YouTube video comment section somewhere, but stereotyping (generalizing) that all stereotypes are ‘bad’ (or have negative connotations/associations) is literally stereotyping. Not all of the stereotypes are bad. Like the way Britain acts like a gentleman or likes drinking tea, which in a way, is a British stereotype. That’s not a bad thing, just funny to see in the show — played for comedy purposes, and not necessarily offensive.

Although Hetalia characters are sometimes influenced by stereotypes that revolve around the actual countries and represent the people in general, they DO NOT always represent what those country’s people are actually like. Also, I’m pretty sure the point of comedy about personified countries is to use some of those generalizations. Specifically, stereotypes that the Japanese have about foreigners. France is portrayed as a flirty man because in Japan France is known for being a “romantic country.” But that doesn’t mean that they think all French people are like that — it’s just a lighthearted joke. And now, Hetalia characters have grown to be more of their own character rather than simply a humanized country at its base. Despite being a personification, they’re like their own person, not just used to depict stereotypes. Just because a character has a certain personality trait doesn’t mean Hima believes that everyone from that country has the same trait. It’s not meant to be racist, and isn’t.

What I Think Was/Is Problematic

As much as I love this show, there were DEFINITELY some problematic things that people tend to ignore.

1. Korea Controversy

As a Korean American, I have to say that I was quite disappointed when I learned about how Hima portrayed Korea in the manga. I won’t go that deep into this one since it’s not that relevant to what I'm talking about now, but it was definitely a HUGE problem and I’m glad that he was removed from the series.

2. Iron Cross on Germany

The iron cross that Germany wears in Hetalia (in every time period) is a military decoration that was used since the King of Prussia until the time period of Nazi Germany in WW2. Today, it’s considered a hate symbol, similar to and alongside the swastika. To be fair, it wasn’t just a decoration used purely for the Nazis, unlike several other examples of Nazi symbols and memorabilia, so I suppose it could be up to each person to judge whether it should pass or not, despite the surrounding circumstances — it isn’t up to me as part of the fanbase. But personally, I think it should have been removed/not used in the first place. I mean, it wasn’t that necessary, seeing all of the military uniforms drawn in Hetalia were simplified anyways. Perhaps it would be much less problematic if Hima didn’t draw the iron cross, and the same goes for the other presented issues.

3. Japanese Imperialism

The way Hima portrays Japanese Imperialism was pretty offensive in my opinion. An instance is the presentation of the Japanese invasion of Korea. It wasn’t just like how the colonies were under Great Britain’s rule. It limited much more of Koreans’ rights and was much more gruesome. I don’t know about anyone else and can’t speak for each individual, but as a Korean, portraying all of this as Japan merely patting Korea on the head is fucked up. This ties to the controversy of Korea’s character. From what I’ve seen, Hetalia is pretty close to a rightist (in Japan, not the US) series. I won’t dive too deep into that, but rightist — or in Korean, 우익 — animes are animes that glorify their country’s past/country, or use content to make fun of or criticize other nations. Actually, it’s probably much more complicated than that, but as of now I don’t know much about it. It mostly ties to the tension between Koreans and the Japanese, so if you’re not either, there’s not really much to worry about. But (maybe because I’m Korean) I found it weird that the manga seems to give every single character a bad/negative characteristic except Japan. I guess it’s only natural, since the creator is Japanese. But then again, France was basically drawn as a rapist/pedophile, but I have never seen a French person complain about it. Or maybe they just completely avoid Hetalia? If anyone knows about it, I would be glad to listen. Perhaps it’s just a bias that I have as a Korean. It could also be a cultural difference too, since we tend to be very patriotic.

4. The Title: Axis Powers

Although the main character is Italy, and the story revolved (emphasis on the past tense) around the 3 countries that were part of the Axis, Hima should have been more considerate with the title of the show, thinking about what the Axis Powers actually did during WW2. Just “Hetalia” would have been fine. But it also should be considered that when Hima started drawing the manga, he did not expect it to become a long-term thing or for it to blow up so much. Thankfully, only the first two seasons of the anime were titled as Hetalia: Axis Powers, and later seasons were titled more acceptable things, like World Stars (manga) or The Beautiful World.

5. Seychelles

Personally I don’t find a problem with there not being that many African/South American countries in the show. Africa’s country borders (and all of that related material) were very different from what they are today, and it would be really fucking hard for Hima to keep track of all of those while still writing good characters. And unlike Europe, Africa’s history was not transcribed much, and is a lot less-known. The problem with Seychelles was her skin color, which wasn’t accurate. But that’s since been fixed.

Is Hetalia Really Problematic?

My most straightforward answer for this question would be no, it is not problematic as of now. Something I realized while listing all of the aspects of Hetalia that I personally thought were wrong to put in was that most of them don’t exist anymore. Besides Germany’s iron cross, all of them were removed from the show. Korea was banned from the anime, and he no longer appears in any of the manga strips. The manga strays further and further away from topics like Japanese Imperialism or WW2. Most of the time in the manga, countries do not wear their military uniforms anymore, but stick to more casual clothes. The characters stray further away from stereotypes that Hima used to use as a comedic effect when he first started drawing. My point is: Hima learned his mistakes. Which only makes sense, considering all of the criticism he probably received when the series first started. I think that’s a good thing. Now back to what I was ranting about earlier. I don’t get why people are saying Hetalia shouldn’t come back! The new season is most likely going to be based off the most recent Hetalia manga series, which is Hetalia World Stars. If you’ve ACTUALLY READ THE MANGA AND DIDN’T JUDGE THE ENTIRETY OF HETALIA BASED ON ITS FIRST FEW SEASONS, you would know what World Stars is about. It’s about all sorts of things. My personal favorite strips are the ones about ancient Rome! It’s not just drawn to give readers a laugh but it actually teaches you some history. Other than Rome, the manga is also about the trends of clothes in certain countries/time periods, industrial revolutions, or just the interactions between the characters in general. I really don’t see how animating these would be harmful at all. The subjects don’t revolve around what a lot of opposers say/negatively connotate the series with. If you think bringing Hetalia back is a terrible thing to do because the fandom would return and start doing toxic/weird things, I really don’t know how to respond to that. The fandom already died out around the time the last season was released. Now newer fans will come around, and the former fans would return (hopefully) matured up. It's already been 5 years since the last Hetalia season aired, after all. And like I said earlier, toxic fans never represent the entire fandom. If you really hate the fandom that much, I recommend not getting involved at all.

#hetalia #rant #hetalia 2021

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skarsgard-daydreams · 4 years

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Marie’s Writing Workshop

Part One: Just Keep Writing

We’re going to call this little series Marie’s Writing Workshop, not because I have all the answers, but because I want to collect a bunch of writers in one place so we can talk about what to do when writing isn’t easy. Everyone is invited to comment with their own tips, tricks, struggles, or questions, and my hope is that another writer (maybe me, or maybe someone else) will be able to offer some help and support if needed, or even just say, “Me too.” If you’ve ever been in a workshop before, you know that having a community of writers around you who are experiencing the same struggles helps immensely with the isolation and self-doubt that go hand in hand with our hobby. If you’ve never been in a workshop before, well, you’re welcome to join the conversation.

The first thing I want to talk about is something that is useful whether you’re knee-deep in a multi-chaptered story or you just don’t know how to get started. There comes a moment in every writer’s life when they ask: how do I get the pen flowing? Or how do I get the pen flowing again? You might feel like you’re uninspired or have the dreaded ailment that plagues all writers at some point: writer’s block. It’s something that happens to writers all the time, even the professionals. A lot of ink has been spilled on how to combat writer’s block. At the end of the day, I think the advice boils down to this: write through it.

But how the hell do you write through it? Here are some practical tips. Take what works for you, leave the rest, and share your own if you want.

1. Give yourself permission to write complete and utter shit.

Embrace the fact that whatever you’re about to type into your word processor or scribble on your notebook is going to be terrible. It’s going to be cliché, it’s going to have poor grammar, it’s going to have bad characterization. It’s going to have plot holes and awful sex and purple prose and you’re going to use the words “just” and “seemed” 800 times in ten pages. And that’s fine, because the first step is simply to bang it out. Ernest Hemingway famously said, “The first draft of anything is shit.” Every other writer on the planet who is honest has said a variation on the theme. So, hurl the words onto the page like you’re flinging cooked spaghetti at the wall. When you reach the end of the story, it might look like a dumpster fire. That’s fine. Because reaching the end of the story isn’t the end of writing.

2. Stop editing your work as you write.

This tip goes hand in hand with the first one, really, because part of giving yourself permission to write something horrible is that you shouldn’t try to make it better as you’re working on a first draft. But I think a lot of people, myself included, have the tendency to reread the last few sentences and make a few changes here or there and eventually find ourselves staring at the same page three hours later with only two paragraphs written. I find that I can get away with this at times. However, when I’m not feeling inspired, my inner editor can derail the whole process and prevent me from getting anything done at all. If you see a typo as you’re banging out that first draft, ignore it. If you can’t remember the word for something, or haven’t named something, put in a placeholder. I do this by using brackets. For example, once I was writing a fantasy story and I forgot the word “sheath,” so I literally wrote [sword holder thingy] and kept going. Do this with anything that you’re uncertain about as a marker for yourself. Future you can correct it in revision.

3. First draft does not equal final draft.

You probably could have guessed this based on my last two tips, but I feel it’s necessary to reiterate. Writing is revision. Yes, there are good days when angels sing as your first draft magically comes together, and you can get away with publishing that baby right away. But every novelist, every short story writer, every screenwriter, every playwright, and every poet will tell you that revision is where the real work gets done. And it’s a vital part of the process if you’re allowing yourself to write shitty first drafts. I like to think of it this way. Writing is like cooking a meal. The first draft is the part where you take all of the ingredients out of the fridge and throw them onto the counter. But revision is the part where you refine those ingredients, taking a whole onion and dicing it into bite-sized pieces, then sautéing it in a pan. It’s the part where you start to combine ingredients and let them meld together. Sometimes you sample a taste of the dish while it’s being cooked and determine it needs a little more salt or a little more time in the oven. Or sometimes you call over your roommate to take a peek in the oven and tell you if they think it’s done yet. So, take the time to revise, going through as many revisions as you feel are necessary for your story to become “cooked.”

4. Give the muse a time and place to meet you.

We all know the rush of getting struck with inspiration. Something clicks in your head and you start chasing a thread and suddenly you’ve written more in a day than you did last week. At other times, it feels like the muse is nowhere to be found. I often feel like I need that flash of inspiration to get my pen rolling, but the truth is that most authors write even when they’re uninspired. One of my favorite writing teachers taught me that showing up to do the work is more important than feeling inspired. For her, that meant sitting down at her desk at the same time every day with a notebook and pen in hand and setting a timer for something like an hour or 90 minutes. That was her writing time, and she could either sit there and stare blankly at the notebook or attempt to write, but she could not get up. She often found that, even though she would begin the session uninspired, an idea would eventually come. One of my shortcomings as a writer is that I don’t keep a schedule like this most of the time. But the times when I am most prolific are the times when I have the house to myself and I go sit in my little corner with a cup of coffee and force myself to focus on nothing but my writing. The muse might take her time and wait to show up until the second or third page, but she usually does show up to these appointments.

5. Shake things up.

This last tip is really a collection of a few more ideas that aren’t big enough for their own paragraph. If you’ve been working on a piece for a while and you’re losing steam, it’s okay to put that on the shelf and work on something else. Sometimes the change of pace will help you return to the previous piece with fresh eyes. In the same vein, I have found that I gravitate toward different mediums for different purposes. For example, I write most of my first drafts of long pieces by hand, in pen. This forces me to reduce the amount of editing I do since it’s limited by the space on the page and what I have already written. I do my revision while I’m transcribing it into a Word document, and often revise several times over again. But I have also found that I like to write drabbles, like the majority of “Sound and Color,” on my cell phone. If I get stuck on one medium, sometimes I will try switching to another to see if the ideas flow better. I don’t know why it works, but it works. Finally, there is a tool that I found in the days of trying to complete National Novel Writing Month that I like to use when I need to break through the wall of over-thinking about every word I put on the page: an app that deletes your progress if you stop writing. I wouldn’t write a story that I cared about within one of these apps, but I have used it as an exercise when I can’t seem to write more than two words at a time. There is an old, clunky app called Write or Die that makes the screen turn red and blares an alarm when you stop writing. If you turn on Kamikaze mode, it will delete one word at a time. There is also a modern, minimalist app that operates on the same principal, except that it will delete everything you’ve written if you stop. That one is The Most Dangerous Writing App. Both are great tools to keep in your writing toolbox.

Now it’s your turn:

What works for you when you’re stuck in your writing? What doesn’t?

What’s your biggest hurdle right now? What’s your next step to try to overcome it?

What questions do you have for me or other writers?

@hausofobsession @stevesharrlngtons @scxrsgxrd @dreamtherapy @grandpa-sweaters @amandalynngraves @dragsraksllib @loomiz

#writing #fan fiction #marie's writing workshop #english major rants

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crashingmeteorz · 4 years

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the tea shop fight probably wouldn’t happen in my ba sing se bimbos au, but IF IT DID:

jet sees mushi heating tea, and goes through an existential crisis. what’s worse is it’s JET’S tea, so he just has to. drink the firebended tea. and try really hard. not to throw up.

on the one hand, lee is one of the best friends he’s ever had and mushi is one of about two adults jet’s ever had any respect for (the second is song’s mother).

on the other, THOSE TWO MEN...ARE FIREBENDERS!!!!!

so as you can imagine, he has something resembling a mental breakdown.

(“are you okay?” song asks him one night when he’s particularly on edge. “you’re all...sweaty.”)

(“probably because it’s extra hot in here,” jet says pointedly, staring right at zuko, who just blushes a little because he, like everyone else, assumes jet’s just flirting with him again.)

(“but we’re outside,” says song, deeply confused.)

jet finally decides he’s just going to come out and tell zuko he knows he’s a firebender, and give him about 30 seconds to explain himself Or Else.

he stalks into the tea shop with extreme purpose, and doesn’t even notice song and jin sitting at one of the tables when he walks right up to zuko and says “we need to talk.”

“unless it’s about the couple by the window and how you’re going to cram this towel down their throats, i’m a little busy,” zuko tells him as he loads up his tray and turns his back. jet leans in hovering just over zuko’s ear, and at first, all zuko can think is i’m not making out with you NOW jet!

and then jet whispers: “i know you’re a firebender,” and zuko freezes. he turns around, hoping jet will have his signature smirk on, but his mouth is a hard thin line and his brows are drawn in a sharp v.

“do you have time to talk now?” jet asks him coldly. zuko narrows his eyes and says “no.”

from their table, jin and song watch on curiously. “why don’t you think jet said hi to us?” jin asks song. “probably saw lee’s ass and didn’t even notice we were here,” answers song. they both laugh - lee doesn’t have an ass.

all of the sudden jet’s yelling and drawing his hooks. “come on!” he shouts, pointing at zuko, “show everyone what you can do!”

“you want a show?” replies zuko, snatching a nearby guard’s swords, “i’ll give you a show.”

“what in the - if they’re not careful they’ll hit mushi!” says a thoroughly pissed song at the same time jin says “song - write this down, we need to get them into Street Rumble XI!”

(street rumble is the street version of earth rumble, and also the avatar alternative to yelling WORLD STAR!)

the fight is pretty evenly matched. in this au there’s more hesitation, but it’s still intense. they knock over tables, shatter dishes, and all-around make a ruckus.

iroh meanwhile, who has come to care for jet, is calling for both of them to calm down. he doesn’t know for sure what the fights about, but he’s got a sinking feeling, based on the fury written all over jet’s face.

the fight goes outside, and obviously song, jin, and iroh follow.

“if you’re in the market for a new relative to mentor, i make a great niece! song, tell mushi what a good roommate i am,” jin says cheerily as zuko and jet almost kill each other. “don’t ask me to lie,” says song.

then the dai li show up.

“oh shit,” says jin. “we’re too poor to pay their bail!” says song.

jet and zuko pause their fight after being told to drop their weapons (they do not drop anything.) jet points at zuko and yells “tell everyone who you are!”

“he’s a young man, just like you,” says iroh. “boys, please, it’s not worth this, let’s all go back inside.”

“i’m not going anywhere with you!” roars jet.

the guards and pao tell the dai li how jet attacked without reason, how the tea boy was just defending himself. the dai li move to take jet away. song panics, and does the only thing that makes sense at the moment.

“no! don’t! it’s my fault!” she cries. she remembers what her mother taught her, about people’s assumptions and using them for survival, and she begins openly sobbing. it’s enough to get the dai li to pause.

“don’t blame yourself,” says iroh quickly, not knowing where song’s going with this but helping anyway by gently patting her shoulder. “it’s hardly your fault.”

“it is!” she cries. “it’s me - they’re fighting over me!”

“song,” jet says irritably, at the same time zuko blushes furiously and says “uhhhhhh.”

“all this...over a girl?” the guards ask. the dai li still are still hovering over jet.

“i know, it’s ridiculous!” iroh agrees. “but you know how young men can be-“

“it IS ridiculous,” jin says dramatically, stepping forward. “because i thought they were fighting over ME!”

“you?” song blubbers, doing her best impression of a person who does not think this entire skit is ridiculous. iroh thinks they’re laying it on a little thick but the crowd seems sufficiently distracted. “but-but lee said he only loved me!”

“is this true?” yells jin, rounding on the boys. jet is, if at all possible, even angrier, while zuko is rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“jin,” jet says. “i am not dealing with this right now-”

“you started this!” cries song hysterically. “making a scene, just because i said i won’t kiss you if you keep eating grass-”

iroh, who has made his way over to the dai li, gestures broadly and says “as you can see, it’s just some teenage drama. please, we can handle this. i’ll make sure the boys clean up their mess.”

the two dai li look at one another, and then nod at iroh. “if we hear of any other disturbances in this area, they’re both getting arrested,” they tell him before departing.

the crowd disperses, not really wanting to deal with song’s crying and jin’s yelling. pao goes back inside griping about closing up early. finally, when it’s just the five of them, song takes her hands away from her face, which is completely dry.

“and, scene,” says jin, bowing. “song, you were brilliant, iroh, my muse, lee and jet - the stunts could use a little work.”

“why did you have to say all that stuff?” zuko mumbles angrily. jet, meanwhile, begins to stomp away.

“because we didn’t want you to idiots to disappear!” yells song. “but i’m already regretting it! and you!” she says, rounding on jet. “you’re not going ANYWHERE until you two clean up this mess!”

“you don’t understand!” says jet. “those two - they’re-”

“why don’t we all clean up together, and then we can discuss this at the apartment?” offers iroh quickly. they may be alone, but they’re still very much in public.

“great idea,” says jin, “i have to finish transcribing the fight anyway.” song takes iroh’s arm and says, “mushi, you’re not allowed to help, you had nothing to do with this.” zuko looks at jet and shrugs, entering the tea shop. jet splutters, making a series of strangled noises, before finally sighing in defeat and following the group inside and begrudgingly cleaning up.

when they get to the apartment, iroh serves the four of them tea. jet refuses.

“i don’t want anything made by a firebender,” he hisses. song freezes. zuko rolls his eyes. iroh looks deeply sad.

“that’s what this is about?” jin says in a bored voice, sipping her tea. “i thought we all knew by now.”

“what?” shout jet, song, and zuko. iroh looks shocked.

“seriously?” asks jin. “lee, the first time we hung out you lit up, like a hundred candles at once. do you think i’m stupid? is that what you think? that i’m stupid?”

“n-no!” zuko stutters. “you knew,” jet growls “and didn’t say anything to us?” song is still fairly pale.

“i thought we all knew!” jin says. “i mean, he screwed up in front of me, like, immediately. i just figured the same had happened with you two.”

“i can’t believe it,” zuko says miserably.

“besides,” jin continues, “what’s the big deal? there’s plenty of war babies in ba sing se. and lee’s our friend. has he ever used firebending to hurt us?”

“that’s true,” song says thoughtfully. “and, that scar clearly didn’t come from a waterbender.” she takes in zuko’s embrassed expression and adds, “no offense, lee.”

“i don’t believe this,” says jet in shock. “how are you all just okay with this?”

“well, what’s he gonna do?” asks jin.

“i - i don’t know!” stutters jet. “he could - he could be spying for the fire nation!” song and jin laugh heartily, and after a minute so does jet.

“okay, okay,” jet concedes, “lee could never make it as a spy. but still-”

(“could too,” grumbles zuko, arms crossed. iroh shoots him a “for once in your life SHUT UP” look.)

“but nothing,” song says, standing up. “jet, i understand. i’ve been hurt by the fire nation, too, remember?” she pulls up her skirt and shows everyone her burned leg. zuko looks away.

“but lee didn’t do this,” song says firmly. “and neither did mushi. and you destroyed a town, so you don’t get to judge them.”

jet’s jaw drops, and then he pouts bitterly. “i never should have told you about that,” he mutters.

“i trust you three will keep our secret, then?” iroh asks at last. song and jin nod. jet looks between them, and then at zuko, who offers him something resembling an apologetic look.

“fine,” says jet. “but if i think for one second that you two are working with the fire nation, i’m not holding back.”

zuko and iroh nod aggressively, both thinking “if we so much breathed in the presence of the fire nation we’d be electrocuted by our insane relatives, but sure jet, we’re totally working with the fire nation.”

i know i said i’d post part 2 of the gaang and ba sing se bimbos meetup, but this was stuck in my head. since it’s an au of an au i’m just going to include it in my new masterpost rather than in any particular order. credit as always to the amazing @azenkii !

masterpost

#my stuff #jinjetsongko #jetko #the ba sing se bimbos #jin #jet #song #zuko #iroh #atla #avatar the last airbender

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meta-squash · 4 years

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I may as well also transcribe the Heart Of The Matter video analysis/interpretation that I did on twitter as well. Again, since it was a twitter thread some of the paragraph/sentence structure is probably a bit choppy and weird.

A lot of Libertines songs are a pretty equal ratio of instruments to vocals, but Heart Of The Matter is absolutely a commanding "Listen to the words" song. The mixing for this song is so interesting. Vocals up, guitars in the back, drums even further back. Like, vocals take front and center, guitars are way more ambient than actually carrying anything really complex. There’s no solo. All the instrumental is so far back, tucked away under the vocals, because at least for this song, the truly important part is the words, not so much the combined work of words and instrumentals. I'm so glad they wrote this song and did this video. It's a really good "we know what you're doing, fuck off" to the media but also a "here's all the shit we've dealt with over the years and we're still going" for themselves.

I love that they picked Dean Fragile to play the "true fan." I wonder if the other people in the video are just hired actors or if they're also friends of the band. I kind of hope they're just actors because that would make it even better. Also idk if they did this on purpose or it's just Dean Fragile's makeup in general, but it looks like there's already tear tracks on his face when he sits down at the beginning, like he's already been forced to watch this peep show he doesn't want to see before and he has to do it again.

This is the video where I understand why Peter “got” the acting part and Carl didn't when they first met. Peter's a lot more physically emotive. You immediately are drawn to the intensity and openness of his expressions. Peter’s face almost from the get-go looks upset. There’s a lot of different emotions there, whereas Carl’s expressions and emotions are mostly anger or coldness. Which I think makes sense. I mean Peter's always been more dramatic, more emotive, more intense. There's that interview where he calls his drug abuse "self defense from reality" and in general it seems like his emotive state is always so intense and overwhelming/overwhelmed. Whereas Carl seems much calmer. Or at least more in-control, more subdued in his emoting. So it would make sense that this acting-out of their individual self destruction would mirror that perspective and the two reactive styles.

I just noticed that when he first enters, Peter taps the side of his double's face like "Sit the fuck up, we're gonna show them what they want to see" way. Like, showy but also casually cruel. Also every member of the band is wearing poorly-applied stage makeup; as real as this all is, within the peep show it’s seen by everyone else as a performance. I love the way the "audience" goes from intrigued, to horrifically fascinated, to gleeful, to getting off on the hurt. And they're not passively watching either, they’re pointing and laughing, participating and egging on. The only one who doesn’t seem to participate in some way is the “true fan,” whose only reaction is tears. During the words “heart of the matter” at the beginning of each chorus, the shot is always the audience, and “why so glum, it’s all on a platter” is also usually the audience.

There are so many more things on Peter's table than on Carl's. Carl gets coke, a hammer, and booze. Peter gets heroin & crack & related paraphernalia, cigarettes, a straight razor, and a whole lot of other random crap that I can’t identify because it’s hard to get a clear shot. Like, they were really shooting for brutally honest here. (Also that seems to reflect every photo Peter has ever posted of a table full of crap.)

I find the way Carl interacts with his double really interesting. Just this weird sort of back and forth between this sort of semi-comforting headlock-hug and extreme violence. Aside from the neck pat, Peter doesn’t interact with his double in the same way, but he looks a lot more upset than Carl does. There’s a cruel sort of cold smile on Carl’s face during most of the abuse, either that or hateful anger. It looks like a detached, almost superior-feeling “fuck you” expression, like an “I’m doing this because I hate you.” Whereas Peter’s face is either the same sort of cruel amusement or a sorrowful, sympathetic sadness, an “I’m doing this even though I don’t want to.”

And then you have John and Gary, and I love that they're included in this narrative because it's so important. And they're portraying two totally different types of worried, frustrated helplessness. You have John, who's just sitting or standing there, stock still, jaw clenched, staring sadly into middle distance or straight into the camera with this judgemental look. Like this "you are complicit" face. This sort of frozen, stoic pain of knowing that you can’t do anything because you have no control. And then you have Gary, who's shocked, yelling at them and yelling at the audience, trying to get someone to listen or do something and no one's listening or doing anything. His helplessness is more external, trying to connect and then getting frustrated at inaction or complicity. But Gary comforts the "true fan."

And John and Gary get to be inside the room with Carl, but they're outside of it, sitting with the audience whenever Peter's in the room.

Also, even at the beginning and the end, Carl never looks at or interacts with the audience. John and Gary get to be both audience members and inside the room. Peter looks at and acknowledges the audience at the beginning and at the end, but Carl doesn't acknowledge them at all. But Peter doesn’t acknowledge John or Gary, and Carl does.

It's interesting that Peter's verse in Heart Of The Matter sounds like it's speaking to the audience while the other two, which are Carl's verses, are self-narratives. It makes sense, because this song is a sentiment that most of Down In Albion expressed, but Carl's albums didn't really. So Carl gets to narrate for both of them, while Peter gets to do the finger-pointing at the fans and media. Also makes sense, because his problems had more media frenzy, so he has more grievances with people rubbernecking his problems. Carl gets to "hold" the personal narrative for both of them. But that makes sense as well. Peter gets to be angry at the media and at "fans" while Carl gets to express their personal hurts. Because if it was Peter singing those lines it would only be about Peter. But with Carl singing them it's clearly both entwined in each other.

In the last chorus, Carl beats his double with a wooden block, which I think is referential to the sink incident. I can't tell what Peter's doing to his double. I thought he was strangling him but it looks like he's just pushing him down into a fetal position? Carl's face at the end, before he reveals his double, is one of like...relief, almost, or exhausted release. He grabs his double’s hair/face with not a little roughness. Peter looks so sad looking at his own slumped over double, and he’s so gentle when he lifts the double’s head. But I love Peter's face when he reveals his dead double. "This is what you wanted, right?"

#the libertines #peter doherty #carl barat #squash rambles #also i live-tweeted my listen through of all peter and carl's albums #i'm jesuisgourde on twitter if people want to read all my random stupid little thoughts #also dean fragile is nearly 40 how does he look barely 21 at all times #also I have a theory that Milkman's Horse is the internal/introverted response to Heart Of The Matter #also carl looks like alan cumming in cabaret in this video i can never unsee it #if people like my lyrical/literary analysis ramblings i'll happily take prompts/requests

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