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#the most impactful thing I've watched in SO LONG
ckret2 · 1 hour
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I might tweak some details later (jewelry? take the ribbon off the bow?) but I've about got a Scalene design I like. The lipstick is really the centerpiece of the design. Now let's infodump! With more art!
🔺 Notice her lines are a a little curvy. It's not for artistic effect. She's got a Fictional Polygon Physical Disorder that makes her bendier than she should be—meaning, among other things, sides that curve and flex.
🔺 It's also the kind of condition with symptoms that are romanticized by people who don't grok that it's a debilitating medical condition. Sides that curve and flex? How exotic! This went to her head in the wrong ways.
🔺 Bill was born with the same condition. You know how squishy and blobby he was as a baby? Thaaat's genetic! He was a lot squishier than most babies! And, consequently, more adorable.
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🔺Scalene dreamed of being a famous super model. Was actually a teen beauty queen at mid-tier beauty pageants. She thinks it's always somebody else's fault she wasn't more successful.
🔺 She took Bill to his first baby beauty pageant the day he was born. He did, in fact, have a Best Baby Ever award presented to him by the mayor, but to be fair he was only competing against like 6 other babies and who's going to withhold a trophy from a newborn on his birthday? Anyway the 6-12 month group and 12-24 month groups also each had a Best Baby Ever award.
🔺 This was an absolutely bonkers thing for Scalene to do.
🔺 What's that small scrunkly thing doing at a pageant, he can't even see color yet.
🔺 Their fictional squishy medical condition doesn't just accidentally make shapes cute. It's the kind of condition that affects just about all parts of the body: sides won't stay straight, poor muscle tone resulting in instability & weakness, poor motor coordination & clumsiness, back aches & pains (well, triangles don't have "backs." side aches?), easily dislocated joints, and increasingly skewed sides with age. Just about everyone in Scalene's family is born equilateral and ends up extremely scalene after young adulthood. The rest of her family have normal relationships with their condition, she's the only one who's weird about it
🔺 She was very rough on her body in pursuit of pageantry success, but her physical symptoms & associated chronic pain got a lot worse due to having a kid; she had to retire from pageantry for good. She doesn't blame Bill for this at all. Out loud, to his face. (If she hadn't been so rough on herself in pageants, having a kid probably wouldn't have impacted her health this much. She doesn't consider this.)
🔺 She's weirdly intent on seeing Bill become the success she wasn't. He's her little golden child, he deserves to be seen as the greatest! He'll show them how great he is for mommy, won't he? He won't let mommy down, will he? When he's very young, she takes him to child pageants—he'll appreciate the lessons they taught him when he's older—and this lasts until he finds out he can get out of it by pyrokinetically setting the stage on fire.
🔺 She jokes ("jokes") that she didn't realize that when she was having a kid, she was firing herself from the pageant circuit so she could hire & train her own replacement. These jokes had no long-term impact on Bill at all!!!
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(Compare/contrast: how we're told Stan's "You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart" is repeating something he heard his dad say.)
🔺 Did you know that squeaky baby shoes are sometimes medical devices? Squeakers help children with poor muscle tone and delayed motor skills learn how to walk correctly: it makes them want to walk on their heels instead of their toes so they can hear the squeak. Did you know sometimes oversized squeaky baby shoes are worn by young kids who need ankle braces? Did you know that kids with poor motor coordination can take a longer time to learn complicated motor skills like tying shoelaces rather than using shoes with velcro straps? It sure is interesting that baby Bill's most defining visual feature is oversized squeaky sneakers with velcro straps and that he kept wearing velcro shoes until he was 16!
🔺 As a baby, Bill's angles were technically supposed to be equilateral,* but thanks to his inherited condition, his angles were so loose his top corner practically formed a right angle. Not good: the closer a triangle creeps to being obtuse, the more likely he'll have muscle strain and medical issues from his organs being squished out of place by his own exoskeleton.
(*supposed to be equilateral: but after receiving treatment, they discovered his angles were still 60º, 60º, and 60.1º, which is mathematically impossible for a triangle... on a euclidean plane. But on a non-euclidean 3D plane, such as in spherical geometry, a triangle's angles can add up to more than 180º... and it's this slight 3D flex to Bill's body that lets him see up into the third dimension.)
🔺 For his first few years of life he actually had a hypotenuse, until physical therapy and side braces helped him improve his muscle tone. Sometimes he still reflexively refers to his base as his hypotenuse. It's fine, sweetie, it's nothing to be embarrassed about, mommy had a hypotenuse too. Don't tell anyone.
🔺 Scalene took baby Billy to a lot of doctors as a kid, just like how she was taken to a lot of doctors! Doctor for his side braces, doctor for his physical therapy, doctor for his shoes... doctor for his eye when he started talking about seeing white glitter at the edge of his vision. Scalene didn't have that symptom, but the eye doc said their condition does occasionally come with visual problems—blurred vision, lazy eye, visual field defects... It sounds like Bill's main field of vision is unobstructed, but if the visual snow he's getting in his peripheral vision is distracting him and confusing his little toddler mind into thinking it's something real, they can give him a medication that'll narrow his field of view. From the sound of it, he's not seeing anything important at the edge of his vision, anyway.
And she only wants what's best for her golden child.
🔺 Scalene's "bow" is actually a medical device: sort of like a medical corset, it helps tug and press her anatomy into place to reduce pain. Bill started wearing one preventatively—if he can keep everything in place when he's young, it'll take longer for his angles to skew when he's older. Like wearing a retainer when you get your braces out.
🔺 He has a cane for the same reason—he doesn't need it NOW when he's young, but he might as well keep it on hand, by age 35 he'll probably want to stand more often than float and when he's standing he'll probably want the extra support! Even if he doesn't need it by 35, he will eventually!!
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🔺 Bill doesn't medically need a bow tie in the third dimension either; but he adapted it to help tie his 3D exoskeleton on.
🔺 A trillion years later, Bill suspects that his mutation to see the third dimension came, at least in part, from his mom's medical condition. Except, she didn't have that vision. Nobody else with the condition on her side of the family had that vision. It's not a known symptom of the condition. His dad had stuff going on with his eye too, did he get it from his dad's side? A mix of both? Just a standalone random mutation? He doesn't know; and with the rest of his species dead, there's no way for him to find out.
But back to Scalene!
🔺 She's not quite red, she's rose gold. However she doesn't like it. She thinks it's a sort of pinkish brown and very dull. She uses makeup to make herself look redder. Note how bright red her sides are: in a species where only your edges are visible, body paint is the most common form of makeup+fashion. She's pleased her baby came out gold-gold, it's much cuter. Bill knows she's rose gold, but he only saw her with her makeup off when she was tired or sick; he remembers her painted red.
🔺 She adores her Billy; but she somewhat sees him as an extension of her will. She thinks he's just perfect and will tell anyone who asks; but she also demands he be perfect and is furious when he isn't. She'll protect him from ANY perceived external threat; but she'll tough love him into being the kind of success she thinks he should be. He learns early that when he screws up, he can often redirect his mother's anger by pointing his finger and saying it's someone else's fault, and she'll bring the wrath of heaven down on them. Woe to the teacher who gives Bill an F on a test.
🔺 I'm on a quest to write Bill as a foil to the entire cast of Gravity Falls, and that extends to writing his family as a foil to the entire cast's families. Scalene's a blend of Pacifica's mom and Caryn: beautiful, proud of her beauty, afraid of losing her youth, self-aggrandizing, quick to lie about her & her family's (false/exaggerated) accomplishments—and very aware of the fact that you can say anything about woo-woo mystical matters and nobody can prove you wrong.
🔺 So she takes it great when they figure out Bill is, like, legit psychic. And by "takes it great" I mean "starts a cult."
There's what I've got on Scalene. Fortunately, I got to keep all my pre-TBOB headcanons about Bill's mom, I only had to change her shape & color. I already had medical trauma baked right into the family!
(Preemptive disclaimer before I get any "but she doesn't look 2D" comments: we all understand that the baby Bill picture we see in the book is a psychically-generated 3D approximation of Bill's 2D Euclidean form, right? And that drawing a 3D baby Bill design alongside rigidly 2D parent designs would make it look like even in the second dimension Bill already had a 3D body, right? So, if we're drawing a 3D baby Bill and want to convey that they looked similar to him, we have to draw his parents in a similar art style, right? Okay, great.)
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2blockseast · 15 hours
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nights like this (logan howlett x gn reader)
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summary: plagued by memories of his ex-lover, logan seeks out their counterpart for comfort. author's note: hey y'all, i hope you're all doing well! i've been simmering on this one for awhile but uni has gotten in the way so it took some time to finish. i'm sorry if the ending feels abrupt... i again blame uni for stealing mental energy from me, lol. anyways, i hope you enjoy! please feel free to send requests. i appreciate you all, stay safe! writing is purposefully in all lowercase; mildly proofread. tags: worst!logan, readers gender not mentioned, human reader (both universes), angst, comfort, happy ending word count: 2,275
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nights like this
it was another sleepless night for logan. he was laying on the couch in wade’s apartment, staring at the ceiling and begrudgingly focusing on the deep ache in his chest. he felt weighted down both emotionally and physically, and despite his attempts to think of something positive, his mind kept drawing him back into the depths of his own despair. 
he was replaying every horrible thing that he had ever done, the memory of his murderous rampage at the forefront. his memories were horrifyingly vivid, with his the memory of the slaughter being so strong he swore he could smell blood. he could almost feel the slick of the blood against his hands, and he remembered how he had felt the fire within him rage on at the feeling. the ache in his chest only intensified at these memories, and logan began to feel his eyes welling with tears as his mind became further crowded with guilt.
he found himself thinking of you. it was nights like this when he needed your love most. the only mildly positive thing about his ability to recall memories so vividly was that he could remember every little thing about you. he thought about how your skin had felt, how you had smelled, the perfect curve of your jaw, your unwavering kindness, and your beautiful eyes that he had loved to lose himself in. he could feel his chest beginning to ache so much it hurt, but he continued to chase his memory of you despite the discomfort. 
logan had always loved you. in his universe, you had been his sun, moon, and stars. not a moment went by that he didn’t think of you. he would follow you around like a lost puppy, doing anything he possibly could to make you feel loved and appreciated. despite his longstanding rough demeanor, you had found a way to soften him. everyone in the x-mansion loved you in your own right, but they loved your positive impact on logan more. you knew how to read his soul and you encouraged him to be kinder to himself, which, in turn, made him kinder to everyone else. you made him a better man. 
but as much as he loved you, and no matter how much he seemed to improve, he had always loved one thing more: hating himself.
when the x-men had been slaughtered, logan’s anger had surfaced in a way nobody had ever thought possible. he didn’t know what to do with all his misery, so he turned it into rage. the nation had watched his murderous rampage through their televisions, and the worldwide fear of mutants only intensified. if people didn’t feel safe before, they certainly didn’t now. 
you had tried to call him a million times when you saw the news, pleading with him to come to your apartment, begging him to come see you, assuring you everything would be okay if he came home. you knew that the brutality of the x-men’s murders had shaken him to his core and that this anger– this rage– was nothing more than a secondary emotion. you promised him that you would take care of him, that you could get through this pain together– he just had to come home to you. 
logan had seen your myriad of calls. he had read your hundreds of frantic– then loving– then desperate– then comforting– then begging texts. he had thought about calling you, but he knew he would never be able to bring himself to do it. he had sat in the woods, covered in blood, longing to crawl into your bed. he felt jagged, and he ached for your softness. but your opposing personalities were what pained him so deeply. he had committed a horrible crime, and no matter how much he wanted to believe that you meant it when you said you could make everything okay, he knew that you couldn’t. he would have to accept that he had ruined everything. 
in his heart, logan knew that you could ease some of his pain. he knew that seeing you, even for a moment, would bring him some relief. he knew you couldn’t make everything okay, but you would at least bring him some semblance of joy in the wake of his grief. but he also knew that he didn’t deserve it. logan had never thought himself deserving of you in the first place, but now he knew that he definitely wasn’t. not only did he not deserve you, but you didn’t deserve him. you didn’t deserve to be responsible for such a monster of a man.
he had messaged you: “i’m sorry, i can’t do this. i hope things work out for you. i’m sorry” before blocking your number. 
even now, all these years later, after saving the multiverse and finding himself again, he longed for you. he wished he could go back to your apartment and apologize a hundred times over. he would get down on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. he would smile like a schoolboy as he told you about all the great things he had done, how he had redeemed himself. he imagined you holding his face in your hands, gently stroking his stubble as you comforted him. he imagined you telling him that everything was okay, that you had waited for him all these years, that you still had the same books on your shelves, that your bedroom was still decorated the same and you still wore the same fragrance. 
logan was aching for your touch more than he ever had. he considered going to wade for comfort, which he quickly realized was a horrible idea. the only thing that could make him feel better was you. 
logan didn’t know how he felt about the idea that came to him then. 
he thought about wade’s version of you and how you had met when they had just returned from their multiverse-saving adventure. he remembered how his heart skipped a beat when he saw you again, as beautiful as ever. logan had been pining over you since then, but part of him felt guilty for it. he didn’t know if you had ever known earth-10005’s version of logan– the “best” logan, as some might say– but he guessed that you didn’t considering how happy you seemed. you had always been kind to logan, but he couldn’t help but feel that you were slightly disappointed that the version of the wolverine that wade brought back home wasn’t as amazing as the anchor being that had died. 
after your first few interactions, you seemed to start avoiding him. he hoped he hadn’t done something to upset you or drive you away, but wade had told him that you had always been a bit reserved, especially around new people. “just like i remember”, he found himself thinking. his version of you had been reserved before you two had started dating, and he hoped that maybe the same thing was happening now.
he knew that he wasn’t this world’s logan, and you weren’t his world’s you, but he wanted to wrap himself in your arms nonetheless. he considered going to your apartment just to see you, even if just for a second. he didn’t know if it would make him feel better or worse and he felt bad for even thinking about burdening this untainted version of you with his issues, but he couldn’t help himself. he groggily got up from the couch, throwing on sweatpants and a shirt before heading to see you.
unsurprisingly, you were surprised to see logan in your doorway so late at night. 
“hey, logan,” you said groggily, a bit flustered. “are you okay?”
he looked at your face in the dim light of your apartment, taking it all in.
“yeah, yeah. i’m good,” he stopped, feeling himself hesitate. he wondered if this was a total douchebag move, waking you up in the middle of the night for his own comfort. deciding he had nothing to lose but sleep, he asked, “can i come inside?”.
you stepped aside, still half-asleep. he came in, looking around as he took his shoes off. his heart warmed at the fact that everything was more-or-less decorated the same. you had the same books, the same houseplants, the same coffee table. he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you could also have the same feelings for him, considering how similar you were to the you that he had fucked up. 
“is something wrong?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“no, nothing's wrong,” he said. “i just needed to… i needed someone”.
flattered that logan had come to you for comfort, you said: “oh, well i hope i can be that someone for you”.
“you always were” he thinks to himself.
“but,” you start, looking a bit dejected. “i have to work tomorrow and i really need to sleep”.
“oh,” logan says, feeling bad that he’s stealing sleep from you. “i don’t need anything special, just being here helps”.
“oh, that makes me happy!” you reply. “how about we just rest together?”
his heart warmed at the thought. seeing the faint blush on his cheeks and feeling his excitement, you giggle and start walking to your bedroom. logan follows, feeling his heart begin to glow at the chance to be close to you. 
throwing back the covers, you settle into your bed. logan looked around your room, decorated just how he remembered. your bed was still snug in the corner of the room, the same desk by the window, the same faint smell of your favorite fragrance lingering in the air. logan felt like he was about to start crying at how happy it made him. he had been in your room a million times, and he could replay every memory you two had shared together here. even though logan had technically lived at the x-mansion, you had always referred to the apartment as as your guys’ home, as if you owned it together. logan had always loved that what was yours was also his. he noticed now that the only things missing from this room were his flannels you had “borrowed”, as well as the photos of the two of you posted on the walls. 
you yawned, patting the space beside you on the bed. 
“are you coming?” you asked.
logan looked at you, laying in your bed in your sleepwear, looking at him expectantly. he nodded, slipping into bed beside you.
you lifted your arm, inviting him to rest his head on your chest, and logan’s heart skipped a beat. you had always been kind to him, but you had never been affectionate like this. he wondered if you were being so inviting because you genuinely liked him or if you were just too tired to be closed off. either way, he nestled himself beside you, pulling up the covers.
you rested your hand on top of his head, slowly breathing in and out. he could hear your heartbeat, gentle and consistent. he closed his eyes, soaking up the purity of this moment.
“i know you need to sleep,” he said, breathing out. “but can i ask you a question?”
you giggled, chest rising. “sure, logan”
“did you ever know this world’s wolverine?”
you stopped for a moment, looking at the ceiling contemplatively. 
“no, i didn’t,” you replied. “it would have been cool, though. why do you ask?”
“just curious,” he said. he couldn’t tell if knowing that made him feel better or worse– at least you couldn’t compare him to the honorable anchor being that had passed.
“did you ever know your world’s me?” you giggled. logan could tell you meant it as a joke, you didn’t expect him to have ever known you. 
“funnily enough, i did” he replied, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation. his heart rate increased and he hoped this wouldn’t ruin the moment– he didn’t want you thinking he was only there to pretend you were his version of you. he liked both versions of you, and he wasn’t in your bed to live in the world as he wanted it to be. he knew you were your own unique person, even if you were similar to the you he had loved.
“oh,” you said, surprised. monotone, you added: “that’s cool.” 
logan tensed again. he couldn’t tell if you had replied monotone because you were too tired to be expressive or if you were preparing yourself to kick him out.
“what was i like?” you asked, surprising him. your fingers began running through his hair and he leaned into the familiar sensation.
“you were awesome, just like you are now,” he breathed out. “you lived in this same apartment… at least when i knew you”
“why did you stop knowing me?”
logan thought for a second.
“i did some bad stuff… cut you off. i hadn’t seen you in, i don’t know, five years?”
“oh,” you said quietly. your breath hitched as you worked up the confidence to say: “i don’t know if this is weird, but… what were we?”
logan’s breath hitched. “lovers, i guess”
you hummed. “i bet we were nice”
logan let out a low, pained laugh. “we were really nice”
“y’know,” you started after a long silence, hesitating. “i think we could be nice now, too”
logan froze, surprised. “y'think?”
“yeah,” you said, smiling. “i think that with time, we could be very, very nice… if you’re up to try”
“i would love to try,”  logan smiled. “i would try with you a million times”
you hummed, content with his answer. “i think i would like that”
logan relaxed, settling into your side. he breathed a sigh of relief, reveling in the warm feeling of your affection. he drifted to sleep, the memories that plagued him replaced with the new, softer memory of getting to love you once again.
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timesomewhere · 2 days
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in honour of the West End's next to normal closing today I've finally proof-read my 'things I noticed/general thoughts' post that's been sitting in my drafts since I saw it earlier this month. it's very long I'm very sorry.
Act One:
it was really fun watching this show in September given that there's two references to it in the first song
I adore the monologue about the pills that Dr. Fine gives during 'Who's Crazy'. it's rhythmic and funny yet also unnerving. It's such a quick and impactful way to summarise what Diana has been through for the past 16 years
Gabe does a 'one of your French girls' pose on the kitchen counter under the cabinets during 'My Psychopharmacologist and I'
Jamie Parker made direct eye contact with me during the last part of 'Who's Crazy' and it was one of the most intense experiences of my life
I might just be dense but I don't get the point of the neon sign that says 'Fine' which drops down during the Dr. Fine scene. Initially I thought that then one would drop down saying 'Madden' during his scenes to help people differentiate between the doctors but then it didn't so it just feels like a weird extra prop
speaking of random props, shout out to the iPad on the table in the opening scene which Gabe pretty much instantly takes away after telling Diana that she shouldn't obsess over tragic news stories and is then never seen again as far as I remember
Dan in the flashback scene being such an optimist about Diana's pregnancy and the future they're gonna have together... soul-crushing
Caissie Levy's 'I Miss The Mountains.' Holy Shit.
I love how Diana and Gabe are the only characters who sing on/stand on the table. it's as though it's this extra dimension of the house that only they have access to and it's a really neat and subtle way to show that they relate to each other in ways other characters don't
'It's Gonna Be Good' is so underrated. Jamie Parker's somewhat genuine optimism becoming optimism-through-gritted-teeth is incredibly acted
The way Jamie delivers the first line of 'He's Not Here' is devastating. the heaviness of that moment as you feel the audience around you realising what's just happened is something I'll remember forever
Gabe body-blocking Dan from Diana during 'I Am the One' is such good staging. People talk about how Jack Wolfe plays Gabe with a lot of layers and a lot of simultaneous contradiction and this song is one of the best examples of that. how Jack manages to project a character who is goading his father and protecting his mother at the same time is beyond me
also Jack has maybe half-an-inch on Jamie which obviously isn't something the actors control but it does makes Gabe seem just that bit more threatening when he's getting in Dan's face
for the first part of Superboy and the Invisible Girl when it's just Natalie singing, Gabe is actively laughing. He's totally unperturbed by her efforts to make herself seen to her mother. it's only when Diana replies, particularly when she says "you're our little pride and joy, our perfect plan" that you see his face drop and you see him trying to figure out a way to stop her from getting Diana's attention which then results in him kicking her off the melody in her own song
"I'll hurt you" being directed at Dan and "I'll heal you" being directed at Diana as Gabe gently touches her face gets me so bad. but the most painful part of 'I'm Alive' for me is when Gabe looks at Dan as he says "I'm the perfect stranger who knows you too well." that's the first time you realise that perhaps Gabe doesn't just impact Diana, and there's something much larger at play
Caissie and Jack W's voices harmonising on 'Catch Me I'm Falling' was one of my favourite parts of the whole show. Their voices are so magical together and their mother/son chemistry is incredible
The 'I Dreamed A Dance' into 'There's a World' sequence is one of the most tragically beautiful things I've ever witnessed. I went into the show knowing what Gabe was trying to achieve during 'There's A World' and yet Jack's voice is so beautifully haunting you totally forget you're supposed to root against Gabe in that moment
Jamie Parker's 'I've Been' is some of the best acting through song out there. Interestingly my friend and I had very different interpretation's of what Gabe's horrified reaction to the blood meant. I viewed it as him being upset about what he convinced Diana to do - he doesn't like seeing her hurt. Whereas my friend saw it as him being angry at himself that she didn't manage to follow through, meaning that he has failed to regain control over her life
'I'm no sociopath, I'm no Sylvia Plath. I ain't no Frances Farmer kind of find for you' is one of the best musical theatre lyrics of all time. I genuinely don't know why I Miss The Mountains is the 'big song' known from N2N over 'Didn't I See This Movie?', it's just so good
Natalie's 'She trusts you!' line is heartbreaking, I was basically watching that entire scene through my fingers because of how high the emotion was
Act Two:
'Pfizer's woman of the year' will in fact be peak comedy every time. Eleanor's delivery is *chef's kiss*
Gabe having just one line in 'Wish I Were Here', and that line being 'Wish I were here.' Yeah. I feel very normal about that.
Natalie's line of "Can I hide my stupid hunger, fake some confidence and cheer?" being pretty much exactly what Gabe has done throughout the entirety of act 1
"And you're not a scary rockstar anymore" got one of the biggest laughs at both of the shows I went to
Dan's desperation during 'Better Than Before.' He is simultaneously trying to cajole Diana into remembering and get Natalie to be more positive. This one song really highlights how he's being pulled in a million different directions while trying to hold it all together and Jamie portrays that so well
Aftershocks. Wow. The way the last word of each line echoes throughout the theatre is great sound design. I've been in exam halls louder than the audience during that song. Holding a room that captive as a silhouette is quite the feat Jack Wolfe you will always be famous
"I don't know where the fucking pieces go" as Diana pushes things off the table as if there's a real jigsaw there that she's rage quitting and choosing to give up on is such a nice detail
"Have you talked of your depression, your delusions and your son?" The gasp in the theatre both times was sickening
the response of "good' in reply to "name?" when technically that was part of his name as they are the "Goodmans". I don't really have a point here I just think it's neat
The 'It's Gonna Be Good" reprise was one of my favourite Dan/Diana moments. Caissie and Jamie are really pushing each other to their emotional limits and they handle it so well
The first "Why stay?" is so fragile as Diana sits against the kitchen island. Also interesting given that Dan and Gabe will also sit against there later when they are at their lowest point in the story. The idea of the characters crawling to the 'centre/heart' of the home when they are at their weakest
"This is one old game that I can play so well" is the line that has stuck the most with me throughout the show. Jack's delivery of it while striding across the kitchen table - seemingly totally invincible - is crazy.
how Caissie manages to deliver "you shrugged and said that no one really knows" with humour and desperation at the same time is amazing
When Gabe and Diana stand on the table and if they let go of one another they'll fall. yeahhhhh.....
Gabe's realisation that Diana isn't going to give up on getting better. Totally collapsing in on himself and beginning to cry. How you manage to feel bad for him after all the destruction he's caused is wild
Diana's "maybe I'm tired of the game" relating back to Gabe's "this is one old game that I can play so well"
the lyrics in 'Hey #3' clearly reflecting things Diana has done, Henry cutting Natalie off at "bleeding in the bathtub"
"I am the one who'll heal you" being said to Dan not Diana this time
"Why didn't you go with her?" is the most devastating line in the whole musical I said what I said. Jamie's delivery of it is heart wrenching
the drums and bass kicking in for the loud part of I Am The One as Gabe becomes desperate to be seen once again
Jack and Jamie's acting in this moment is so intense. there's a moment where it's genuinely feels as though only one of them can make it out of the interaction alive
Jack's emphasis on the word 'loved' in the line "I am the one who loved you" nearly killed me on the spot. how somebody can deliver a line so desperately while remaining pitch perfect is unfair
Natalie coming in to kiss Dan's head at the start of 'Light' like Gabe kisses Diana's in the first scene. I'm such a sucker for a gut punching
the "And are they real?" line about Diana's parent's from Henry gets such a loud reaction from the audience. Some people laugh immediately, some people clearly get shocked out of their sobs. so good
In conclusion, this is my favourite musical of all time and I'm going to be so annoying waiting for the pro-shot to come out
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kimmkitsuragi · 2 years
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okay a LOT happened today. but at the end of the day I'm in my room STILL thinking about kurak günler (burning days). i absolutely have to rewatch this at least once or twice. i was expecting this film to be very impactful for me but not to this extend. i cant get it out of my head. i cant remember another movie that made me feel so scared but also so relieved. like thank fucking god all these things that are happening are in fact actually happening and yes we should make a big deal out of them. this movie broke me and fixed me simultaneously
#this movie was like ah I know I know... I know how incredibly awful life has been in this country#I know what it feels like to live your whole life thinking you're being chased#I know what it feels like to feel like there's no escape. I know it feels like no one else understands the importance of it all#I know even if they understand they dont care. I know. and I know it's not getting better. this should be a big deal but it's not. I know#anyway I actually did cry twice while i was sitting there alone in the cinema. it wasnt a sad cry. I was so frustrated I ended up crying#the most impactful thing I've watched in SO LONG#son 30 dakikada özellikle koltuğa yapışıp derin nefesler alarak geçirdim. bu nasıl film amk helal olsun#yarın daha düzgün bi yazı yazicam bununla ilgili beynimi terk etmiyor şu an#o kadar katmanlı bi film ki... her karakterin birbiriyle etkileşimi o kadar tanıdık ki...#o baskılar. gerilim. emin olamama. çaresizlik. korku. pişmanlık. umut. kızgınlık. her şey o kadar tanıdık ki#ve bütün bunlar yaşanırken hala kimsenin skinde olmaması. insanların anlamaması. anlayanin da anlamazdan gelmesi.#kaçma isteği. kendin ve o korkunç insanlar arasına bir uçurum koyma isteği. uçurumun yaratıcısının o korkunç insanlar olması.#burdaki çaresizlik. buna engel olamama. olmaya çalışsan da hayatının skilmesi yine engel olamama. of.#çok zor bi filmdi ya çok zor şimdi yine ağlıycam çünkü evet bunlar yaşanıyor bunları yaşıyoruz. ve bi şey yapmamız gerek#ama işte yapınca da yardim etmeye çalıştığımız bu insanlar ile bizim aramıza bir uçurum giriyor. kendi eserleri.#şeytan taşlar gibi bu uçurma sürüklenmek. neyse yeter bu kadar#🗒
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godforg1veme · 1 month
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Funny how JG (the epitome of sexism in all of its forms) is worse at his own job than LR (a woman)
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thebibliosphere · 3 months
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Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???
Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.
Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)
And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.
Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).
Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.
(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)
I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.
But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.
I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)
I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.
I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.
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blacktabbygames · 3 months
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Hello! I absolutely love Slay The Princess! I was wondering, were there any major inspirations that helped you create this game that you wouldn’t mind sharing? I’m always fascinated by the art that inspires the art I love so I’d be very curious and happy to hear what vibes helped you all piece together this wonderful game!
It's always tough to pin down inspirations. I think there's kind of three types: 1. Hard inspirations — things that you know are sources of inspiration at the start of a project. Or things that become known sources of inspiration partway through a project. These are sometimes, but not always technical.
2. Soft inspirations — these are more vibes based. Kind of like "what's going through my head on loop while working on a specific chapter." Almost never technical, and for me, this tends to be music more than anything else. (But maybe it's music *from* something specifically)
3. Loose inspirations — these are more along the lines of formative pieces of media. Stuff that seeps into your soul and directs your development as an artist or person, but not in a way where you can specifically tell what its impact is. Sometimes overlaps with #2 Anyways, some examples for each. Hard Inspirations:
• Disco Elysium — IMO hands down the best piece of interactive media ever made, and probably one of the most obvious influences on Slay the Princess. The concept of using internal voices to represent the player's thoughts helped us get around one of the biggest writing challenges in Slay the Princess — if the Princess changes based on your perspective, how do we codify what the player's thinking? The voices were a solution to interpret those choices in sensible ways and inform our players of how the game was reading their choices. Much better than breaking immersion and outright asking players what they tought. • Soma — we didn't play Soma until we were about half of the way through our work on Slay the Princess, but it was one of those games that felt so thematically on-point. I still think about this game most weeks. • The Stanley Parable — I like when narrators get frustrated at players for doing silly things. It helps when your narrator is British, too.
• Madoka — it's like 12 episodes long. Just watch it.
• Evangelion — Similar bucket to Soma. Didn't watch it until we were most of the way done, but boy does it have some similar vibes. Soft Inspirations/Music I've Kept On Loop While Working On the Game I won't tell you what music was looped for what routes. • Ceremonials (Florence + the Machine) — one of my all time favorite artists, and just a phenomenal album.
• Presumably Dead Arm (Sidney Gish) — super underrated. No Dogs Allowed is a great album.
• Haunted (Poe) — another banger album.
• Black Holes and Revelations (Muse)
I'll leave that third bucket unanswered lest this post become 50 pages long.
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p4nishers · 11 months
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I find it very hard to understand everyone's confusion regarding who he was talking to when he said “I know what kind of god I need to be. For you.” In the doorway, Sylvie runs off, but Mobius is frozen and horrified. Mobius is the Loki expert. Mobius knows then that Loki isn’t coming back and just stares in fear and petrification. Loki knew those words had meaning to only them, and those are the ones he chose as his farewell. Then he turns and advances towards the loom, where the Lokius theme was playing as he became the God of Stories because it was through Mobius’ guidance and unconditional love and support that they’ve come this far.
Mobius explaining to Loki in s2e2, "because it's not my life, this is. the tva is the only life i've ever known, i like it. i wanna thank the guy who brought me here, got me this pie." and the juxtaposition to the revelation that Loki is the one who brought Mobius to the tva in the first place and gave him his own Glorious Purpose makes him leaving the tva the moment Loki isn't there anymore louder than ever in terms of how real their love is. It proves Mobius truly stayed at the tva because he had Loki. He only decided to finally see his tl because loki wasn’t around anymore — he felt no other purpose to stay. But really there’s no purpose for him in his st either. Loki is his purpose. Loki is his life.
Mobius didn’t choose to leave the TVA just because Loki wasn’t there anymore but because he knew Loki couldn’t see him there as well. So, he chose to stay in his og timeline because at least in one of the infinite timelines where Loki reigned over, Loki could still see him as opposed to in the tva, a place that exists outside of time.
Loki HEARING Mobius means that they are connected. They could have literally had that same scene but with Sylvie in Mobius' place - but no, it was Mobius who Loki heard. It is Mobius whom Loki is looking after. They are together in spirit. And Mobius knows that. He knows that Loki sees him and that's the most important thing. As sad as it is, Mobius being alone and depressed without Loki is better than him being happy and nonchalant about Loki being gone (like Sylvie). Mobius is lost without Loki, he can't live without him, whereas Sylvie can. This just solidifies how real their love is. Loki watching over Mobius and smiling upon hearing his voice was not only insanely romantic but also solidifies whom that “for you” was truly meant for. “For you” was for Mobius. “For all of us” was for his found family. (sorry this got so long i just think their love story is very impactful)
this. all of this.
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disneyprincemuke · 7 months
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testing, testing * fem!driver
nobody is more glad to be back in bahrain in her new race car more than the girl racing for andretti
pairings: fernando alonso x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: hi surprise before the first race of 2024 and also because I've been writing this piece for like a week now
(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)
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she sighs, tilting her head as she looks down at the car. her hand hovers above the side pod as she grins, “ah, my baby. so pretty.”
liam, standing next to her, has a scowl on his face as he lifts his eyebrow at her. “what?”
“look at the purple on this car,” she whispers in bewilderment as she claps her hand, bouncing on her tiptoes. “she’s so pretty! i have a good feeling about this year, liam!” she grabs his shoulder and shakes him as she throws her head back. “this is our year and i’m going to win a race for andretti.”
“if you don’t stop shaking me, i’ll throw myself in front of your car and you’ll have to find a new teammate.”
she hums. “i have fred — toto will hand him over if i bat my eyelashes and say really nice things and offer free babysitting.”
“hater,” liam mutters, shaking his head. he turns his head back to the car. it is pretty: the purple and the specks of black give it a nice touch. “but it is a pretty nice car. it felt nice right?”
“it did.”
she sighs and leans on the car with her arms wide open. she pushes her cheek against the halo of the car. “i love you, my baby car. we’re gonna win a race together.”
“what’s going on?”
liam turns his head and shrugs. “not sure. might be the lack of ice cream in her bloodstream that’s making her like this.”
which is possible. sebastian and noah (her physical trainer) had banned her from ice cream for testing, afraid that she would simply camp out in the bathroom in the short couple of hours she has in the car today.
“i drank pepsi, it’s okay,” she giggles, scrunching her nose. she perks up with a giddy smile and looks around with her lips pursed. “where is oscar? he owes me timtams.”
“no chocolate either,” sebastian says sternly, furrowing his eyebrows at the young girl.
“what? why not?”
“because you’ll kill yourself when you’re in the car for too long,” noah sighs with the shake of his head. “eat fruits like normal people.”
“normal…” liam furrows his eyebrows as he turns to the slightly older man. “who eats fruits for fun?”
“they’re good for you.”
“they’re not all good. they could give you diabetes.”
“fruits can give you diabetes?” she yelps, shoving liam back a couple of steps with wide eyes. “i knew there’s a reason i resented fruits! they’re so unhealthy!”
“actually it’s because you didn’t have an ounce of internet safety growing up. you were traumatised by annoying orange,” liam mutters. only then he notices that it’s something he was sworn to secrecy by logan. he glances at the girl, breathing heavily as her eye twitches. “or so i assume.”
noah turns to her. “you’re scared of annoying orange?”
prepared for the girl to unleash some sort of violence on him, liam sucks in a deep breath as he closes his eyes to brace for impact. much to his surprise, she just nods and walks past him to walk to where her helmet is.
“yeah. and it’s all blythe watched growing up. so it was kinda,” she shrugs, “detrimental to my brain development.”
liam raises his eyebrow. “that’s the only thing that held back your development?”
“that and meeting you in my early teen years for sure altered my brain chemistry.”
“wow.”
“i know. kinda sucks, doesn’t it?”
pre-season testing has always been one of the days of the year that she’s most excited for. going out there and showing everybody she can do — it’s always fun to shut a lot of people up. and it’s the one time that she can drive a race car without so much pressure on her shoulders.
it’s lots of fun, really. and after not seeing a couple people over the break, it’s fun to be back in the paddocks to mess around with them.
she rests the helmet above her head and turns to liam with a grin. “if i beat you in testing, you owe me 5 pints of rocky road.”
“rocky–”
liam punches her shoulder gently. “you’re on. and if i beat you, you do my laundry for a week.”
“yeah– wait, how is that fair? boy laundry is gross!”
“you live with a boy!”
“i don’t do his laundry! logan’s a grown ass man!”
“enough bickering,” sebastian sighs, putting a hand behind her back. his other hand lands on the top of her helmet and slowly pushes hit down to help her put it on. he understands her excitement: she’s missed racing so much that she had resorted to bringing her brother karting over the winter break. “get in the car and show everyone what you can do.”
she squeals. “and beat liam and get my ice cream.”
“yeah, that too.”
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she drives into the pitlane, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she looks for the set of andretti garages. she sighs as she comes to a stop, feeling the car be lifted as they put her back into the garage for a little more testing.
“aw, hey! you’re back,” liam grins, knocking on the top of her helmet. she swats his hands away from her head as she grips on the halo to pull herself out of the car. “how was it?”
“i was not feeling great. but i reckon it’s just me,” she shrugs, voice muffled by the layers over her mouth. “i’m telling you — i need my ice cream. i can handle it without having to run to the bathroom before a race!”
liam scrunches his nose. “you’re not fooling anyone with that.”
“i swear, mate,” she throws her head back in frustration, “it was just the rookie vibes last year. i’m better this year.”
he hums, turning around to readjust the headphones on his head. “i don’t reckon sebastian and noah would believe you. but alright.”
“believe me!”
“believe what?”
“what are you doing here?” she giggles, covering her mouth as she hunches over. “you got my ice cream?”
mick sighs heavily, shoulders slumping when their eyes meet. he presses his lips together and shakes his head and her smile drops. “noah checked me for illegal items on the way in.”
“that asshole!” she shrieks, turning to the large doors where her trainer stands. “you don’t understand — i need my ice cream! i’m dying.”
“i know,” mick turns to the pit wall where sebastian sits, swinging his legs as he eats the ice cream reserved specifically for the girl. “i got caught. i’m sorry.”
she clenches her jaw and turns away from sebastian grinning smugly as her from across the pitlane. she hums. “i will find a way to get myself ice cream. just you wait.”
“i don’t reckon that’s a good idea mate,” liam mutters. “you’ve still got the afternoon session for to drive. maybe you should sit this one out.”
she wiggles her finger in the air as she walks towards the backdoor of her garage. “no can do. i’m sure oscar’s got some extra ice cream from me.”
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“no, you cannot race one another during testing.”
“why not? not even a little bit?” max shrugs, frowning as he throws his hands into the air. “just one lap.”
the girl, standing next to him, nods with a wide smile. “please? we won’t crash into one another, i promise.”
“you’re not supposed to crash into one another even in a normal race!” sebastian points out, scratching his head in frustration.
it is one thing to compare lap times when you’re pushing everything out of your car, but to go out on the track and race side by side is another thing. there is simply too much at stake, especially for a time like pre-season testing where everything is in shambles.
“okay, fine!” she huffs, throwing her head back before turning to max. she drops her head. “might i suggest a scooter race around the paddocks before the afternoon session today? after lunch?”
sebastian clears his throat, prompting both of them to turn their heads to look at him before max could muster an answer. “i thought i told you that you can’t use your stupid scooter without adult supervision?”
she looks at him in confusion. “i was talking about the scooter fernando got me.”
“aw, he got you a scooter?” max whines, frowning. “i wanted one — kelly wouldn’t let me get one.”
“seriously?” she giggles. “logan, oscar and i got one along. mine’s the cutest, i’d reckon. you might be able to use oscar’s!”
sebastian just sighs. he waves them off and turns on his heel and starts to walk the other day. “get yourselves injured, i don’t even care.”
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“you’re… asking me to join you?”
“what does it sound like?”
a sheepish giggle passes the man’s lips as he covers his mouth and takes a step back. “i feel so honoured. i’m being included in your activities?”
liam furrows his eyebrows. “what’s that supposed to mean? it’s just a scooter ride around the track before the new session. it’s not a big deal.”
“it’s literally a scooter race out on the race track,” she whispers, turning away from liam to look at fernando in confusion. “literally kilometres on a fucking scooter meant for kids.”
“and we somehow convinced the marketing team to film us doing it for content,” logan beams, puffing his chest with his hands on his hips.
they went on a limb when the girl texted their groupchat: something about helping her convince the f1 marketing team to let them book the track for 40 minutes so they could race on it without getting into trouble.
she walked in with logan, oscar and liam trailing behind her with a half thought out speech, a sweet smile and a dream. she barely even made it halfway through the speech she spent so long thinking over while she had her lunch when they agreed without another thought.
and being that it was fernando’s idea to get them all matching scooters (actually a gift to liam for his rookie year, but the girl had convinced him to get her one too), they invited him along as well.
and max, because sebastian had admitted that fernando got him one as well. he had been too ashamed to admit it, muttering about how borderline embarrassing it is.
“how did you do that? they never agree to my ideas.”
“how can you resist a face like this?” liam asks.
liam puts a hand under her face, logan squeezes her cheeks together and oscar pushes her nose up. she poses with her hand in a peace sign.
“i’d feel threatened if i were the f1 marketing team.”
“hey, take that back!” she cries. she swats the hands from her face and grins. “are you joining us or not?”
fernando shrugs. “sure, why not.”
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there’s a screech that breaks the barrier by the pitlane followed by the clanging of something. everyone pipes down, heads turning and looking around in curiousity to find the source of the scream.
“there’s no way this happened to me again!”
along the track’s grid is the girl sitting on the ground, hands up in the air with her scooter not too far from her. she’s surrounded by her friends first before the marketing crew finally takes steps forward to check on her.
“if i were you, i’d take this as a sign to just stick with a car,” oscar laughs, clutching his stomach.
“yeah, mate,” logan wipes tears from his eyes, “there’s no way you’re two for two falling down and hurting yourself on a scooter.”
her teammate, however, towers over her with hands over his hips. “i swear you might be stupid. how did you fall down again on a scooter that’s meant for kids?”
she looks up, genuine tears in her eyes as the red liquid seeps out of her palms. “you guys are so mean!”
fernando looks down at her. “are you okay?”
“no!” she holds her hands up to fernando to show him where she is bleeding. “it hurts!”
“okay, mija,” fernando grins, nodding empathetically. he puts a hand on her elbow and the other around her back to help her up. “let’s get you some first aid.”
max appears, actually being the only one that finished the race, still riding on a scooter. he balances on it and tilts his head, “really? again?”
her head snaps back around to max, taking a threatening step forward with an arm wound back to hit him. “max emilian verstappen!”
“not the government name,” he scoffs, furrowing his eyebrows. “this is why you fell down.”
“bitch,” she mutters as fernando whisks her away. “there’s no trophy so it doesn’t even count.”
“you’re just mad that max beat you,” liam snorts, rolling his eyes, “and fernando… and logan… and oscar…”
“you didn’t beat me though, so i’m fine with that.”
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“oh, my god?”
“what happened?”
the two germans walk into the garage to her sitting on a bench with her head dropped, being bandaged by noah.
“she fell down,” noah answers immediately, shaking his head as he spares her one more disappointed stare. “can you believe it?”
“have you considered just… not racing?” mick asks, tilting his head. “on a scooter, i mean.”
she shakes her head. “i have to be the best at everything.”
“wow,” sebastian blinks, “well, are you okay?” he looks over liam’s shoulder and rolls his eyes as well. “seriously? the same spot as before?”
“hey, i didn’t take your stupid smart glasses — just mind your own business!” she slouches and lets out a heavy sigh. “it wasn’t even my fault this time.”
liam perks up. “i didn’t do shit to you, mate! you’re just stupid!”
“you were screaming at me approaching me from behind!”
“i was not! i was simply singing the mission impossible theme song!”
“same thing! it was intimidation — you should have been disqualified for that.”
“sore loser!”
“you know what this means?” she hums, batting her eyelashes at sebastian with a small grin. this is her only chance into coaxing herself to completion. “ice–“
before she can finish her plea, her race engineer is already walking away from her with a hand held up in her direction. “not a chance.”
“okay.”
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“good results, mate!” liam screams, his claps filling the garage as she climbs out of her car. “you’re in the top 10!”
she turns her head towards him, the way her shoulders and back straighten an easy telltale of how she feels. she pushes her visor up, “really?” she sees the smug grin on his face, ripping her gloves off and throwing it at him. “there’s only 10 of us testing today!”
“you believed me, though.”
“i literally just drove several laps out!” she hits him. “you’re so annoying — i wish mick was my teammate.”
liam shakes his head as she takes her helmet off. “you don’t mean that.”
“i actually do. very much,” she sighs. she puts her helmet into the seat of her car and turns to liam, only then noticing that liam is now holding something out to her. “oh!”
“yeah, i got you ice cream!” liam beams proudly. “they didn’t have rocky road, but… i figured it’s still chocolate ice cream and you wouldn’t–“
he’s cut off by the girl throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around him beforw pulling away to take the small cup into her hands. “aw, liam! thank you!”
“we’re going to have so much fun this year.”
“bold of you to assume i won’t run you off track like i did in f2.”
“i’m prepared to hit you back — you’re an adult now.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @inejismywife @love4lando
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Hey I've been wanting to ask you for a while a request I've had. Can I have some headcanons of the mercenary's realizing their feelings for the 10th merc after they brutally bash in a enemy's skull in for trying to kill said merc. And then the 10th merc looks at them with extreme concern while checking up on them. Before turning around and killing another enemy that was about to kill them.
I would love to see the mercenary's reaction to being saved by their crush and having to deal with the horny panic of finding them attractive.
If you dont want to do this that's fine. Thanks again for making really good tf2 x reader content! I love it! Byebye have a good day/night.
The Mercs realizing they have feelings for Y/N after watching them brutally kill an enemy (NSFW)
WARNING: severe amounts of simping
Scout:
- Oh. Oh.. OH. OHH NOOO! OUR SCOUUTTT. HE’S BROKKEEENNN
- You look so dazzling with the blood on your clothes and the rockets whizzing past you. The explosions in the background creating a fine backdrop. Cue the cheesy romantic 40s music as you kill people in slow motion and Scout is in awe.
- You’re confused. He had been standing there even after you had successfully cleared the point. You wave your hand in front of his face and he doesn’t react.
- In his head he’s already having romantic fantasies of frolicking with you on the beach and bashing in people’s heads. The idea of you beating the shit out of him particularly makes him feel a certain way. He has no idea why. Oh god, is this normal? Wait.. Why is he already having thoughts of marrying you and growing old together?
- Immediately goes whining to Spy like a little pussy about you. He’s batshit scared of you but also has the most confusing boner. Good job. You sent him crying after his daddy. You hear a “SPYYYYYYYYYYYeeeEEEE!” as you leave the battlefield. Followed by a groan from said frenchman.
———————————————————————-
Soldier:
“NOW HANG ON PRIVATE THATS NOT EXACTLY— Oh.. Ah..” Soldier hisses through his teeth and puts his fist to his mouth, his helmet falls back a bit from the impact you made of kicking an enemy demoman’s sticky bomb back to him. You can see his expression is incredibly conflicted about this. With mild arousal. Holy shit. Somebody as batshit crazy as him. Who the hell kicks an active explosive?
- Because on one hand, you’re impractical yet affective at what you do. Just like him. But on the other hand that’s HIS THING. NOT YOURS! He’s one to act incredibly erratic on many occasions when strategy is in the back of his head awaiting the stupidly fast yet eons long conveyor belt.
- Becomes incredibly infatuated by you on the spot. Creating a sort of vague idea in his head on what you could be like. Cue very vivid fantasies of you and him strangling a sumo wrestler while naked, claiming france as an American owned country for some reason by sticking the flag into the tip of the Eiffel tower while naked, and having a fine American breakfast on the deck of your cottage.. (while naked.)
- “Is that a pistol in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask him afterwards. “NEGATIVE. THAT’S A ROCKET. I ran out of room.” He lies. You believe him because that sounds like something he’d do.
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Demoman:
- You destroy a sentry nest he was trying to demolish around a choke point. He’s both offended, and slightly attracted. You’ve destroyed his pride and humbled him. Normally Demoman is the only one who can take down a sentry nest unless Medic has full charge on somebody — among other things.
- He opens his mouth to protest but you silence him with an award winning smile that makes his heart flutter. As you run past him to head over to Medic and regain your strength, he’s scratching his stubble. Trying to comprehend the slurry of feelings. Demoman is an adult and he’s old enough to be fully aware that you can feel multiple emotions at once; that doesn’t make him any less disoriented though.
- “Ay.. finally somebody who’s on my level!” he calls after you. Promising he’ll outrank you next round. His competitive nature demands it. He’s trying so hard to ignore his boner right now. Assuming it to be just from adrenaline.
- Well, you’re tied. You’re both equal amounts on the next scoreboard. He stares at it on the intel computer terminals in disbelief. He immediately downs a shit load of his scrumpy. Holy shit. He has a massive crush on you now. Begins to wonder how drunk he can get before he forgets about this.
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Engineer:
- You distract him so much he doesn’t even realize the jammed shell in his shotgun at first. You’ve made him lose like half of his life experience in a fraction of a second and he tries to take out the jammed shell and ends up burning himself. “God. DANGIT.”
- inwardly embarrassed and trying to make it seem like all was normal; he slaps the back of the gun so the shell falls out. Continues trying to defend the points… emphasis on tries. You’re his type AND you’re blood thirsty. He can’t help but feel slightly intrigued. The sparks of what would eventually be a crush once he starts talking to you more.
- He can’t bring himself to think filthy thoughts of someone he just met, he wasn’t raised like that. Occasionally the thought crosses his mind and he becomes a little angry with himself. Please stop being sexy in front of somebody who was raised in the bible belt. PLEASE! he would beg you if it didn’t sound so weird out of context.
- Fuck it. Christian shame doesn’t beat nature. He has to jerk off to the thought of you after battles in the shower. You’ve fucked him up.
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Heavy:
- “Heavy, i’m fully charged. Focus on the soldiers in the front and tell me when to— Was zur Hölle?!” Medic complains, looking away from Heavy’s WAY too apparent hard on.
- Heavy would make a great ice sculpture right now. He’s both sweating and frozen in place as he watches you tear the enemy lines to shreds. He rarely feels this way for anybody at all. Heavy was certain his libido evened out as he got older but you just brought him back to square one. He felt like a horny teenager again.
- He wants to lick the blood off your neck so bad. It’s disgraceful. He feels like a disgusting sewage pipe and suddenly wishes the respawn machine didn’t exist so he could permanently die out here just to forget this even happened.
- Eventually waves his hand for Medic to pocket someone else. Goes over and helps you kick some ass. You indirectly both bond from this and successfully kickstart your connection.
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Pyro:
- You’re the same as them in their point of view. A ‘misunderstood’ killer (Yeah, okay..) who wanted nothing more than peace of mind while they went about their daily business!
- The enjoy he sees in your eyes as you land a hit is marvelous. Every single swing of your melee felt like some sort of complex ballet. There was birds and neon colors following you wherever you went. You’ve now given them a weird fetish for adept mercenaries they had no idea they even had. They want to meet you RIGHT NOW.
- air blasts a poor demoman off a cliff you were fighting. “Hey. It’s alright. I got this.” You tell them. Pyro just tilts their head. You walk on to cap the cart and Pyro follows closely behind you. “What’s up?” You finally ask him, out of curiosity. Pyro just stares. You begin to recall horror stories that the other mercs told you of Pyro.
- They continue following you around as your own personal bodyguard. Engineer tells you that he does the same to him on occasion. To the extent of protecting his sentries. Apparently Pyro just follows people around like a dog because they have no idea how to communicate their interest.
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Sniper:
- Watches you a day before a match doing target practice atop a bridge. The targets in question are in the ravine below. The way you so effortlessly hit each target, only missing a few — for some reason caught his attention. He lowered his scope from his eye and preferred the entertainment of you for a moment.
- You get angry after only missing two. Taking your long range and throwing it aggressively into the ravine. Sniper has no clue why you did this, considering you’re the first person in a while who hasn’t fucked up this course right off the bat. For some reason your aggression is getting him hot and bothered. Is this just a weird preference or a sexual thing? Holy shit, he has no idea.
- Sniper brings his legs together to hide his wood. “Eyes both open with a gun like that, mate. Instinctive to close an eye but I guarantee you, if ya just focus on nothing but the target then boom.” He says. Wondering if maybe he was just overthinking and his penis was being insane.
- “As if you shoot with anything else besides a fucking sniper rifle.” You talk back. “I do, actually.” He says, shrugging at your rage. He didn’t feel like sassing back right now. He was tired. “I could show ya if ya want.”
- He bites his lip, applying pressure to the point it’s red. It was both your bad attitude and shooting skills. He loved a partner who was needlessly edgy. This is seriously the type of guy to swoon over the most edgiest of individuals. Eat nails for breakfast and wear a biker vest for god’s sake while you’re at it.
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Medic:
- Uhm.. Medic’s a little weird.
- Not only is he aroused by you in general but the blood on your clothes and in your hair. The way you kill enemies in-and-itself is arousing him. Much like Engineer he tries to focus on his job to no avail. Ends up pocketing you all day and after the other Mercs ask him about it, he claims it’s because they’re all annoying and not doing their jobs correctly again.
- He sits at his desk at night trying to do paperwork. He can’t focus after what he’s seen today. He begins having incredibly fucked up fantasies of eating your organs. Or you climbing into his chest and sleeping in there. Better yet? sex with both your entrails hanging out! knife play! biting! Dear god he’s gross. God, just shut up.
- He puts a hand to his own heart, feeling his heartbeat. For a second he suspected he was getting possessed or something. But no, he’s just incredibly horny. “Archimedes.” Medic said breathlessly. “I do believe i’m moonstruck. Which is unacceptable..” He sort of laughs nervously.
- Coooo. Brrr.
- “Yes, I wholeheartedly agree.” His voice is hoarse. Medic picks up his bonesaw at the end of his table and looks at his own reflection in it. “Every time I love somebody it ends horribly. Best just get what I want and move on.” He says, darkly. What he doesn’t know is that this is the start of his relationship with you. Enticing you to have sex with him — with your consent — it brings you and him to an incredibly intimate level.
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Spy:
- MOTHERFUCKER AINT PLAYIN. he doesn’t waste time. He sees a fellow serial killer and he immediately goes in for the kill. (Pun intended.) But yeah this is Spy we’re talking about here. He’s a manwhore and I thought the canon already established that.
- “That was some fine work out there.” He tells you slowly. His hands behind his back. “Would you care to join me for a second?” He offers his hand. Which you take hesitantly. He takes you to his quarters and attempts to court you. Which works because he’s something straight out of a romance movie with his clever quips.
- “I have a feeling—“ He begins, slowly offering his hand and hovering it above your thigh, placing it down and rubbing you slowly when he didn’t sense any discomfort. “That we will enjoy each other’s company often, my pet.” He looks for your approval. Any sign of it.
- Dude is so fucking slick that you can’t resist him. He’s unbelievably experienced in romance and knows how to charm his way into your pants. It was like you were under a spell by a hypnotic snake. He ends up getting what he wants and doesn’t hold back. His knife is threatening your back and he’s atop you. “Shhh.”
- Sex happens. Aggressive sex. Right off the bat.
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battlekidx2 · 6 months
Text
I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.
Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.
The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)
I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).
Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )
Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy
The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)
They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.
They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.
Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:
Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!
The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus
I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!
The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)
Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.
Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).
The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.
I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.
I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.
My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)
LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.
The Cure for Inexorable Boredom
Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)
Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)
Don't Say It
I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.
I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.
I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).
These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D
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Note
Hi! I was wondering if you take request for Astarion and co.? The reader gets an aura migraine (worst kind of migraine in my opinion). But because of her/their past being a mercenary/hunter/warrior (whichever one), the reader doesn’t tell or even realize it until it’s too late. Just some angst and then love and care from Astarion.
I love your writing! So please take all the time you need to write this if you want to.
HIHI I'M SORRY FOR NOT POSTING FOR SO LONG!!!!!!! I've been very tired as of late from all the schoolwork and I swear it's almost like I don't have any down time. Writing through this slog has been difficult as well and I don't like forcing/rushing things. Still, I managed to finish this, hope you like it!
Summary: You collapse right in front of Astarion due to a particularly bad aura migraine episode. Panic and emotional constipation ensues
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Your head is splitting. Again.
Inhaling sharply, you let out a slow breath, willing the pain away so that you can focus on the task at hand. Black spots creep in on the edges of your vision but you blink them away, you can’t falter now. You swing your blade, slicing through another of Orin’s assassins before ducking as a dagger stabs the spot your head was at just moments ago.
Even with spotty vision, your battle instincts are enough to help you survive the fight, but you don’t emerge from the fight unscathed. One of the assassins manages to sneak up on you and gets a hit in, tearing open your shoulder.
“Y/N!”
You hiss in pain, whirling around to cleave the assassin in half with your blade. Your injured arm shakes from the exertion, fresh blood streaming from the wound with each motion. The throbbing pain doesn’t help your migraine in the slightest and you nearly keel over.
“My dear, you look terrible.” Astarion catches you just before you hit the floor, a hint of concern in his eyes.
“I’m fine.” You grab onto him to steady yourself, blinking as your vision begins to swim and push yourself upright, flashing him a grin. “See? Perfectly fine!”
And then the world spins before fading to black.
Bright light fills your vision as you open your eyes, causing you to throw your arm up to block out the light, only for white hot pain to shoot through said arm.
Right. You had injured your arm.
Groaning, you rub your eyes with the other arm and tenderly push yourself upright, letting out a croaky yelp when your injured arm buckles beneath you. Closing your eyes, you breathe out slowly, releasing your annoyance at the current situation.
“How are you feeling?” A familiar deep voice sounds.
“Fine.” Your reply comes out harsher than you intended and you internally cringe when Halsin noticeably pauses, taken aback by your tone.
“Sorry,” you mutter quickly. “How long was I out for?”
“Sufficiently long to make everyone worry.” He hands you a flask of water. “Drink up.”
You down the flask almost immediately, feeling the cool liquid slide down your throat and let out a contented sigh. The throbbing in your head has dulled to a quiet hum, but it will remain for a few more days, if past experience is anything to go by.
"Thank you." You hand the now empty flask back to Halsin.
"If you're feeling well enough, you should go and talk to the others. Some of them were particularly worried when you fainted on them." Halsin gives you a sly smirk. "Especially a certain vampire."
You raise an eyebrow and Halsin laughs, "he was the most worried. I had to chase him out of the tent just so I could tend to you."
"He was that worried," you murmur to yourself, frowning slightly. You hadn't meant to do that, well not like you had meant to faint in the first place but knowing just how much of an impact your little 'accident' had on Astarion made you feel bad.
"Watch yourself out there, you were lucky you only collapsed after all the enemies were defeated," Halsin chides as he rebandages your wound and hands you a healing potion. "Try to tell someone when you're not feeling well, alright?"
You laugh, waving him off, "I'll try, no promises though."
The moment you exit the room, the others rush over to check up on you, save for a pale elf who sends a scowl your way before disappearing into his own room, his door left ajar. You reassure the others, quickly making your way past the conversations and slip away with Halsin's help, ducking into a familiar room.
"Hey." You attempt to make conversation but a scowl remains firmly on his face, his gaze buried in the book he's holding. Sighing, you make your way to the bed and nestle into the remaining space, feeling his cooling skin press against your burning one.
"I'm sorry for making you worry."
"You're sorry? That's it? You're not going to explain why I suddenly had your unconscious body in my arms, why you had the audacity to tell me you were 'perfectly fine' before collapsing, why you —" He stops to take a breath he doesn't need, feeling every emotion rush to the surface and tears prick the corners of his eyes. He's mad, mad at you for not telling him anything, mad at himself for not noticing earlier, mad at himself for not being able to express his concern in a normal manner.
"Star…"
"You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be ok! Sorry fixes nothing!" He yells, wanting nothing more than for you to yell back at him so that he can release the emotions he doesn't know how to deal with in the only way he knows how but you remain quiet, head hung low, and that frustrates him even more.
"You're right. Sorry fixes nothing. I…" You let out a deep sigh, lifting your gaze to meet his. You can see the tear streaks that have formed, the fear in his eyes, the anxiety and it steals your breath away.
"Halsin wasn't kidding. You really are extremely worried for me." You can't help but give a small chuckle despite it all, a quiet smile making its way onto your face.
"Of course I'm worried!" Astarion snaps.
"Thank you for being worried." You slip your hand into his. "No one's ever been this worried about me before."
"Have you fainted in someone's arms before?" He huffs, annoyed, but he has simmered down.
"Well…not quite. I always went on quests alone, fought alone, but the times I wasn't alone…let's just say things didn't go so well for me." You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. "You all…you…are the first people I don't mind calling friends."
He clicks his tongue and looks away, but you can see the red on the tips of his ears. Your own cheeks are burning from the confession, your heart thundering like never before and you want nothing more than to bury your face into your knees.
"Why aren't you angry at me?" He mumbles after a while, still refusing to meet your gaze.
"Is there a reason I should be?" You murmur, running your thumb along his skin. His grip on you tightens and he bites his lip, shifting anxiously.
"There are many." The words leave his lips in a whisper and he wishes he could take them back when he sees the way your face falls.
"I can't think of any. I can, however, think of reasons for you to be angry at me." You shake your head. "I should have told you about my migraines earlier instead of having you find out like that, I should have done more than a simple 'sorry', I should have thought about you instead of just keeping to myself."
"You were just doing what you knew was safe. I'm no better."
"But you chose to open up to me. You spilled your deepest darkest secrets and yet I kept mine from you because I didn't want to look weak. I should have returned the favour, but I didn't." All your regrets come spilling forth, its flow stemmed only by the feeling of soft lips against your own.
He kisses you gently at first, and then it deepens, becoming more urgent as he conveys his feelings to you the only way he knows how.
"You're strong. You're the strongest person I know. You've been through so much, and yet you refuse to let any of it stop you. You've been dealing with your migraine by yourself for so long, putting up with the pain by yourself, nothing about that is weak in the slightest." He presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into his embrace. "Let me share in your burden as you share in mine."
"It's only fair, I suppose." Your lips curve into a grin. Letting out a quiet breath, you entangle your fingers in his curls, feeling him lean into the touch. "Promise?"
"Promise," he murmurs back, soaking in the moment. There's only you and him, bodies pressed against each other, embracing like it's the last time you'll ever see each other, washing away the throbbing in your head and the ache in his heart.
He closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth of your body tightly pressed against him, breathing in your scent that speaks of love, comfort, safety, feeling the rhythmic strokes of your fingers through his hair, and wants for nothing else. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he smiles, genuinely, and saves this moment in his memory.
"Get well soon, my love."
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skiller0dani · 2 years
Text
Touch | Kaz Brekker
M A S T E R L I S T Other Masterlist Shadow and Bone Masterlist
smut | mutual masturbation requests info w.c | 4.4k summary | Kaz is convinced you're angry with him, angry enough to leave him. Despite Jesper's reassurance, Kaz is utterly convinced you're about to leave him. He sends Inej to spy on you, he needs to understand what he did wrong...so he can win you back.
I've only read half of Six of Crows and have seen Season 1 of the show (rewatching it before I watch Season 2). So I apologize if I get things wrong Lore-wise. If I do get something wrong, please feel free to help correct me so I don't get it wrong again. I don't know much about Ketterdam or about the correct terminology about how to describe Ketterdam, please be patient and bear with me while I'm learning.
Possible part 2? ;)
Song
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You were angry with him, Kaz was sure of it.
He didn't know what he said or what he did, but he knew he did something. You had been avoiding him, tucking yourself away in the back corners of the Crow Club, or running off with Jesper. You usually spent most of the day wherever Kaz was, in his office, or lounging in your shared bedroom until Kaz needed you. The two of you had been together for about a year now, and he knew you better than you knew yourself. That's how he knew you were angry with him, and by the lack of attention you were giving him you must be really angry with him. It made his stomach churn uncomfortably.
Jesper, who happened to be your closest friend, tried to reassure Kaz that you weren't upset with him but Kaz didn't believe him. Surely if you weren't angry, you'd tell him that yourself. Yet you sent Jesper to talk to Kaz on your behalf, had he really screwed up to the point of receiving the silent treatment? What on Earth had he done? Was he spending too much time away from you? There was a rather complex job he had been swept up in recently, along with someone with sticky fingers skimming from the pot. Or worse, were you finally becoming impatient with his touch aversion? Despite being together for as long as you two have been, he has yet to touch you at all. Not even a light kiss, nothing.
Kaz has briefly opened up to you about Jordie, about the firepox, and of course about Pekka Rollins. You knew why Kaz couldn't bear the feel of skin, but maybe you finally had enough. He knew you had sexual needs not being met, knew you were quite promiscuous before you had begun dating him. He felt insecure about that sometimes, about how it felt like you were sacrificing something to be with him. What if the sacrifice wasn't worth it anymore? Were you cheating on him? No, you wouldn't do that. You were many things but cruel wasn't one of them, Kaz has never known you to do a single cruel thing to anybody.
Still the fear kept clawing at the inside of his head, is that why you were spending so much time away from him? Why you kept sneaking off with Jesper? Did Jesper know about this? Was he covering for you? Kaz knows that Jesper is quite promiscuous himself, in fact that's how you met Jesper. A exciting night on the town before you had joined the Crows, which led you to Jesper's bed. Of course, the two of you realized you had no romantic or sexual chemistry and opted instead to see what trouble you could get up to in Ketterdam. That's how you ended up meeting Kaz, Jesper had brought you to him when you were in need of work. You joined the Crows, and the rest is history.
Despite how hard he tried not to, Kaz fell in love with you. He didn't show it, or say it really other than the one time he did say it. But he thought you knew, that's how you two worked. Neither of you required words or actions to know how you felt, but maybe Kaz had been wrong. Was he neglecting your needs? Did you feel satisfied and loved by Kaz? Were you seeking companionship and affection elsewhere? He couldn't stop his mind from spiraling, it was beginning to impact his ability to run the Crow Club. He often found himself distracted when his eyes landed on the empty spot you usually occupied next to him. It's what led him to seek out Inej, and ask her to do something he wasn't particularly proud of.
"You want me to what?" Her voice was incredulous, you were also a close friend of Inej's. She didn't feel right spying on you, and the seriousness in Kaz's gaze unnerved her.
"I need to know if...if she's seeing somebody else." Kaz explained, his head hung low and his gloved palms pressed flat against his desk.
"She isn't." Inej states firmly, she knows you're head over heels for Kaz. You've been utterly enamored by Kaz since you first laid eyes on him.
"She's been distant. Is asleep before I come to bed and is gone before I wake up. Spends more time with Jesper than she used to, hardly looks me in the eye. Something is wrong. I've done something. I've driven her away somehow, I need you to tell me who she's been seeing." Kaz says, his teeth gritting at the thought of someone else touching you, seeing your bare skin. Kaz needs to know who he is... so they can talk. Inej can't help but admit that your behavior has been odd lately, though she still doesn't think you're cheating on Kaz.
"Kaz-"
"She's going to leave me. It's a matter of time. Can I count on you to do this for me?" Kaz interrupts, this isn't a discussion. It's not something he's keen on discussing in depth either. He just needs to know. Kaz knows he's being unfair, he can see the way Inej has always looked at him. He feels guilty for taking advantage of her affections for him to ensure she spies on you, but he can't last another second without knowing.
"Yes, of course. I'll report back to you once I've learned who he is." She's out the window before Kaz even hears her move. He sucks in a shaky breath, he loves you. More than he's comfortable with if he's being honest, and the thought of you leaving him for someone who's comfortable touching you makes him angry enough to kill whomever the man is on sight. Angry enough to beat him until he's bloody and damn near unrecognizable. Kaz is a bastard of the barrel after all, they don't call him Dirtyhands for no reason.
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Inej has been shadowing you for most of the day. You spent most of the day with Jesper, gambling, having drinks, searching for trouble. You had spent a bit of time quietly talking with Jesper, but the two of you know better than to talk loudly. You know spies like Inej exist, Kaz made sure to teach you how to keep your voice hushed. There was a pained look on your face as you sat with Jesper outside a pub. He had one of his classic warm expressions on his face, the one he uses to coax the truth out of you. He'd been victim to Kaz's anxious pestering and had decided to confront you about it. Inej hugged one of the nearby roofs, and tried to get close enough to listen.
"You can't tell anybody this Jes, I'm not joking." You say seriously and he nods instantly, scooting closer to you as your voice drops. You'd been having a problem lately, one you desperately wanted Kaz to fix but knew he couldn't.
"C'mon you know I wouldn't blab your secrets." He says with a playful smile, doing his best to ease your nerves. Jesper has also noticed you were spending more time with him than usual, but never questioned it because you were practically his sister. He loved spending time with you, but had begun to wonder if your relationship with Kaz was struggling. His concerns only heightened once he noticed how wound up Kaz seems to be about it.
"Is...everything okay with Kaz?" Jesper asks carefully, watching the look of disdain cross onto your face. Inej strains her ears, only catching Kaz's name.
"Yes. No. I don't know. It's all my fault." You push your head into your hands, feeling your entire body flush. The reason you'd been spending so much time with Jesper wasn't because you're angry with Kaz, it's because you feel no sexual attraction to Jesper. You could finally relax around him, being with Kaz all day has slowly gotten more and more difficult. You find yourself following the lines of his body with your eyes, the space between your legs dampening when you see Kaz's jaw tense or his fingers curl around his cane. He was driving you mad, you needed him so badly it was hard to think about anything else. You craved Kaz but you know you can't ask him to help with this particular problem...he isn't ready yet. That's fine, you'll wait forever if that's what it takes, but you don't want him to feel like he's neglecting you. Which is why you'd been avoiding him.
"Talk. What's bugging you? You're really starting to freak Kaz out." Jesper says softly, tilting his bottle back to swallow the alcohol inside it. Your heart sinks.
"I am? Shit." You didn't think he noticed with how busy he's been lately. Clearly he paid more attention to you than you originally thought. "Nothing is wrong, really. I'm just...frustrated."
"Why? What has he done?"
"No Jes, I'm frusrtated." You say, cheeks heating once the look of realization crosses onto his face. He chuckles.
"Oh. A year of unexpected celibacy hasn't done you any good has it?" Jesper teases, and you reach over to shove him. Inej is only catching pieces of the conversation, but the word 'celibacy' stands out like it's been outlined in neon lights. Okay, so if Jesper is teasing you about being celibate, you're clearly not cheating on Kaz.
"The first thing you need to do is be honest with Kaz. He's starting to spiral, I think." Jesper says and you feel guilt surge through you like you'd been dumped in cold water. You didn't want to worry Kaz, you just didn't want him to feel guilty for something that isn't his fault.
"Second thing you need to do is figure out a way Kaz can help you get off without having to touch you." Jesper says, as if that's the easiest thing in the world. Your cheeks color red, and you take the bottle out of Jesper's hand to take a drink. Inej definitely heard that, the more drunk you two get the less careful you are. She slinks back over the roof, knowing that she no longer needs to follow you.
"How on Earth can Kaz make me cum without touching me?" You know you should probably feel more bashful talking to Jesper about this than you do, but the first time you met him you nearly had sex with him. He's seen your entire body bare and it was halfway through the evening that the two of you came to the conclusion that it just wasn't working for either of you. Thus is the reason why you're probably more comfortable with Jesper than you should be.
"Two words my naïve friend, mutual masturbation. That way both of you can get your rocks on without having to touch each other." Jesper says, sly smile making its way onto his face once he sees the gears turning in your head.
"I am not naïve." You complain, drawing a laugh from Jesper.
"You know if Kaz ever finds out we spoke about this, he'll kill you." You mention and Jesper rolls his eyes.
"I'd like to see him try, gonna go talk to him now?" Jesper asks and you stand with a sigh.
"Yeah, I can't make him worry any longer."
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Kaz was pacing back and forth in his office the entire time Inej was gone. He barely heard her re-enter through the open window, and when he laid eyes on her the first thing he noticed was her flushed complexion.
"Well? Who is he?" He asked expectantly, his heart already sinking in his stomach. She caught you sleeping with another man, that's why she looks so bashful. Why she has a hard time meeting his eye. She caught you cheating on him.
"Kaz...she isn't cheating on you." Inej says finally, and Kaz feels his eyebrows pull together.
"No, that's the only logical explanation. She has to be. What did she do today?" He demands, not at all believing Inej.
"Went drinking with Jesper, and I overheard their conversation." She begins, and Kaz stays silent, urging her to continue. There's tension in his shoulders and on his face, though Inej doesn't really know how to explain what she heard.
"I think it would be better to let Y/N explain. Trust me when I say she isn't cheating, and she should be on her way here now." Inej says and as if on cue there's a knock on his office door. He turns to face Inej again, but she's already gone. Kaz turns to open the door, and is unsurprised when he sees you standing in the hallway with a guilty look on your face. He opens the door wider to let you in, and you enter his office quickly pacing in front of his desk. Kaz closes the door behind you, watching you with nervous eyes.
"My love, please talk to me." He hates pleading, hates how weak he sounds but he can't help it. He can see the distress on your face, can see the tension being held in your body. He wants to fix it, and for a second he goes to pull you against his chest. He wants to hold you, but he feels panic crawling up his neck at the thought of touching you. Curse Pekka Rollins for damaging him the way he has, for causing this rift in his relationship.
"Kaz I promise I didn't mean to make you worry. I still love you." You rush out, needing him to know that first. Some of the worry eases then, but the concern is still there.
"I love you too darling, what's wrong? Talk to me." Kaz pushes again, taking a step closer to you. His eyes study your face, your cheeks are flushed, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you nibble anxiously.
"I'm well...I just feel uh frustrated." You say, putting it the same way you described it to Jesper hoping that Kaz catches on as Jesper did.
"Are you angry with me, love?" Kaz asks and you want to kiss him all over his face when you notice the adorably confused look on his face.
"No, not that kind of frustrated." You try again, and Kaz's eyebrows pinch together. Finally you see a look of understanding dawn his features and your cheeks turn even darker. So he was partially right, your sexual needs are not being met and you've finally begun to feel wound up. Kaz knew this would happen eventually, he's been hoping you don't leave him because of it.
"B-But I have an idea... if you're up for it." You start carefully, and Kaz swallows thickly. He's not sure he's ready to touch you, he wants to, can feel the urge bubbling beneath his skin. But he isn't there yet.
"Sweetheart I'm not sure I can touch you just yet," Kaz begins gently, guilt on his face as his eyes soften.
"You don't have to, just hear me out...please?" You beg, and the needy look in your eyes nearly makes his knees buckle. You feel like you could combust at any moment, the heat coursing through you is suffocating. Kaz has seen you naked by now, but neither of you have ever done anything like this.
"You could make me feel good, b-but I'll be your hands. Your voice alone could make me cum Kaz." You say shyly, watching his eyebrows shoot up at your words.
"You could make yourself feel good too, w-we could do it together." You explain, watching warmth crawl up Kaz's neck. A look you don't recognize crosses onto Kaz's face, it makes your entire body feel boneless at the intensity in his eyes.
"My pretty girl wants me to help her masturbate? Is that it?" His voice is low, a near purr and it sends heat straight between your thighs. Kaz knows you need more from him, and if his voice is how he can help meet your sexual needs then he'll do it. He'll do damn near anything if you ask him to. You nod instantly, already feeling tingles going south.
"Sit on the couch." He says, his voice rough as he pulls his office chair out to sit down in front of his desk. Before he sits, he turns for his office door.
"Undress." His voice is commanding, as is his presence in the room. You feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as your shaky palms shed your clothing layer by layer. Kaz also closes and locks the window before he sits back in his office chair. His eyes drink up every inch of bare skin that is slowly being revealed to him. You sit back against the couch once your undergarments fall to the floor and you're naked before him. You feel nervous, but the heat in his gaze is enough to make arousal pool between your legs.
"Spread your legs for me my love, I want to see you." He says, his voice still holding its commanding tone. It was obvious that despite the fact that he isn't touching you he's still very much in charge here- totally in control of your pleasure. You do as he asks, shyly spreading your legs and revealing your glistening folds to him. Kaz feels his pants tighten at the sight of you, you're practically dripping onto his couch.
"My poor girl, look at you. Must have been in desperate need of release for days. You should have came to me sooner, love." Kaz says softly, his voice making your body heat up. You nod fervently, your skin buzzing and you haven't even begun touching yourself yet. Subconsciously you seem to have submit to him already, accepting that he's the one in control. That you can't do anything without his say so, you should have known that he would be domineering in bed.
"Show me how you touch yourself when I'm not around." Kaz instructs and you send him a bashful look. You've never had such a direct audience to such an intimate moment before, but there's nobody else you could imagine doing this for. You lean back comfortably against the couch, your eyes landing on Kaz and you seriously have to bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of him. He's lounging back in his office chair like a King sat upon his throne. His legs are spread, and there's an obvious bulge in his pants. His eyes are dark and lust blown, his gaze glued between your legs.
You snake a palm down your stomach, your fingers lightly teasing your clit causing you to throw your head back.
"Keep your eyes on me." Kaz demands and you can't help but obey. You lift your head to keep your eyes on him as your fingers swirl circles on your clit.
"Tell me what to do Kaz, please." You whine, and the desperation in your voice makes his dick twitch. You see him subtly adjust himself as your fingers continue to play with your clit and run down along your slit. Kaz swallows harshly, his mind feeling unfocused and all he can do is watch the way you play with yourself.
"Push one finger inside yourself love, just one." He says breathlessly, and you obey and push one lithe finger in. You moan softly, pumping your finger but it's not enough. Your hips wriggle against the couch and Kaz can see that you need more.
"Play with your clit darling, and keep pumping that finger." Kaz instructs and the smooth undertone of his voice is making shivers run down your spine. Your other hand rubs harsh circles on your clit, and you feel like the temperature in the room has risen at least 10 degrees.
"You are breathtaking my love, an absolute vision." Kaz praises softly, he can't take his eyes away from your beautiful cunt. Your finger is wet with your slick every time it leaves your heat, and your lips are parted as soft moans escape you. He learned a long time ago that you like to be praised, that you crave those words of affection. He isn't big on being affectionate in public, but he usually compliments you every so often. If only to watch your cheeks darken and the goosebumps raise along your skin. He watches a shiver run down your spine at his words.
"You're doing so good my love, add another finger for me." Kaz says, and you push 2 fingers into your soaked cunt. Kaz palms himself through his pants, he's beginning to strain painfully against his pants.
"Kaz touch yourself, please I want to watch." You beg and Kaz swears in that moment he's died and gone to heaven. How could someone as beautiful and perfect as you be spread out naked on his couch? And yet he's still too afraid to touch you. He swallows thickly as he continues to watch you thrust your fingers into your cunt, and he's scrambling to open his pants enough to pull himself free. As soon as his cock is freed he's releasing a sigh of relief.
"Go faster my love, I want to watch you ruin that tiny little cunt." Kaz nearly pleads and you instantly pick up the pace, slamming your fingers into yourself. You moan again once you feel that coil winding in your stomach and heat sears through your entire body when you watch Kaz wrap a gloved hand around himself. You watch with lidded eyes as he begins to pump his shaft slowly, a soft groan escaping his lips. This is by far the most erotic thing you've ever done, and you've had your fair share of lovers before you begun dating Kaz.
"I'm- I'm gonna cum Kaz, can I? Please?" You ask, needing his permission before you let yourself release. Kaz growls softly, his own hand speeding up and jerking himself faster. He can see how fucked out you looked, he could hardly fathom how you'd look once he actually works up the courage to touch you.
"Yes sweetheart, cum for me. Look me in the eyes darling." Kaz says, and your eyes lock onto his as you feel your orgasm wash over you. You cry out softly, your body convulsing as you gush all over your fingers. Kaz feels his own orgasm creeping up on him as he watches you cum, you've never looked more beautiful. You suddenly get an idea and pull yourself onto your knees before him, making sure to keep your hands to yourself. You sit between his spread legs and look up into his eyes, blinking your doe eyes up at him makes him groan softly.
"Cum on my face." You say it so casually Kaz almost doesn't hear you. He feels heat sear through him once he registers what you've said, and he keeps quickly pumping himself. His head tosses back as the pleasure builds, but he can't help but pull his gaze back to you. You're waiting with your mouth open, eyes fixed on his.
"Fuck, you look so beautiful on your knees before me. Don't move my love, let me cum on your face." Kaz gasps, feeling his orgasm hit him suddenly. His chest heaves as white ropes of cum land on your face, mostly in your mouth. You hum happily as you swallow it down, wiping it off your cheeks and licking it off your fingers. Kaz watches with hooded eyes as you smile up at him, and then he does something you don't expect.
He leans forward and briefly presses his lips against yours to give you a quick kiss. It's quick, but its the first skin to skin contact with Kaz you've ever had. You beam up at him, and he's never seen you look happier than you did in that moment. He feels guilt seeping into his mind, has he really deprived you so much that a simple kiss brings you so much joy? Do you feel satisfied with him or is he damning you to a lifetime of longing for more? Kaz feels his skin prickling uncomfortably, but he leans down and presses a more firm kiss to your lips. He wants you to feel fulfilled. His lips move softly against yours until he feels nausea turn in his stomach and he pulls away. His heart is racing and he has to repeat to himself that it's just you, just you sitting naked in his office. He's safe, everything is fine. He has to repeat this to himself to keep the oncoming panic attack away.
All because of a simple kiss.
"Don't push yourself my love." You remind him softly as you lift yourself from the floor. He wants to reach out and take you in his arms, wants to press his face against the soft skin of your tummy. But he can't and he hates himself for it. Hates that you have to baby him and deprive yourself of the intimacy he knows you crave.
"Was this good my love, was it enough?" Kaz asks softly, hating how vulnerable he sounds. You turn, surprise on your face as you look at him.
"It was perfect Kaz, what's wrong?" You ask softly, reaching down to start pulling your clothes on.
"Are you happy with me? Am I fulfilling your needs?" Kaz tucks himself back into his pants and watches as you put your clothes back on. You look like a Goddess as you do.
"Kaz being with you has made me the happiest I've ever been in my life. You always make sure I want for nothing, where is this coming from?" You ask sadly, and your heart is breaking. How could he ever think he isn't enough for you as he is?
"You were sexually frustrated but didn't feel comfortable telling me because...because I can't touch you. Doesn't that bother you?" Kaz asks, hesitantly meeting your eye when you move to stand in front of him.
"Kaz...I just didn't want to make you feel bad. I don't mind that you can't touch me, I love you as you are." You reassure him but he still holds so much tension in his shoulders.
"You say that now. But can you handle not being touched...forever? I don't think you'll feel the same way 10 years from now." Kaz says, already having made his mind up on the matter.
"Kaz-"
"I want to take that step with you Y/N, I will overcome my...aversion...to ensure I meet all of your needs. Especially your sexual needs. Just be patient with me, please." Kaz says softly and you feel your heart swell at his promise. You nod with a soft smile, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and inhale his scent.
"I love you Kaz, always." You promise and you finally see the tension ebbing away from his shoulders.
"I love you darling."
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whenmemorydies · 1 month
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Carmen, Natalie, and the Berzattos
CW: this post talks about domestic violence, addiction, mental health, racialised trauma, toxic masculinity and intergenerational trauma (this show deals with so much friends!).
Go gently with yourself if you choose to continue to read. Also its a long one (longer than my usual!) so fair warning if you're diving in: maybe put the kettle on.
Following on from The Claw, The Scrunchie and The Prayer Card metas (Part 1 and Part 2), I've been thinking more about The Berzattos (represented via Natalie's hair claw in Carmy's apartment) and their presence (seen and unseen) in season 3 of The Bear.
@espumado's fantastic meta on The Night of the Hunter and its use in The Bear, particularly as it relates to Natalie and the struggle she goes through in season 3 has informed a lot of this post. My reblog of that post also contains a lot of thinking that I had started to scratch at but haven't been able to expand upon until now. Also check out @currymanganese's brilliant analysis of The Night of the Hunter in the context of romantic relationships in The Bear.
Another source of information I've used in the research for this meta is this fantastic interview in the LA Times with the cast involved in 2x06 Fishes (thanks @brokenwinebox for sharing it!). Also thank you to @thoughtfulchaos773, @brokenwinebox and @devisrina for the chat about the above interview and discussions about Donna Berzatto's relationship with her son, Carmy.
Finally @vacationship's most excellent breakdown of the roles taken up by characters in The Bear according to Adult Children of Alcoholics ('ACA') roles defined by Sharon Wegscheider-Cruise and communicator types as developed by Virginia Satir has also informed this post.
The Berzattos
Okay so, given what we know about Carmy and about the Berzattos, it would seem obvious that, yes, his birth family is going to impact Carmy. I think its probably so obvious, that a lot of the fandom, myself included, have taken Carmy's relationship with his family for granted this season. To be fair, we were also getting Claire and the Faks shoved down our throats so some things flew under the radar including, in my view, the Berzattos.
What got me thinking about the Berzattos as a source of anguish for Carmy was a rewatch of 3x03 Doors - specifically Carmy's panic attack during that episode.
The first panic attack of season 3
At this late point in the episode, we've been watching Carmy and the crew's slowly escalating struggle with the demands of fine dining, when we arrive at Carmy running expo and calling for hands. His voice is hoarse and it sounds like he's been screaming for some time. His vision starts to blur and as he continues to call out for hands, we see glimpses of what appear to be intrusive thoughts, interrupting Carmy's work and triggering a panic attack. The sequence of shots that appear during this panic attack is below:
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I note that Carm appears to be trying to come out of the panic attack by remembering his time at The French Laundry and Noma - much like memories of immaculately plated food helped him regulate during his panic attack in 1x08 Braciole and memories of Sydney helped him to regulate during his panic attack in 2x09 Omelette.
The final thought Carm has during this panic attack - indeed the thought he has when it appears that his panic attack is reaching its peak - is of his sister Natalie, in a church praying:
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Note: I'm working on the assumption that the above memory of Natalie takes place at Marcus' mother's funeral. This is based on the clothes Natalie is wearing and how her hair is styled.
Its at this moment in his panic attack that you can see the crest in Carmy's emotions. The orchestral score during this sequence also builds to its climax at this point. Carmy's face screws into a tight grimace and he practically spits out the word, Fuck. Its only then that the music cuts away and we hear Sydney's voice bringing Carmy back to the present:
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The fact that thinking about Natalie (praying while she carries the next generation of the Berzatto family) is what causes Carmy's panic attack to peak is what got me thinking more seriously about the impact of his birth family on Carm. ( This is something that others including @mitocamdria and @moodyeucalyptus have also picked up on here and here - the Bear hive mind at work!)
Below is my attempt to map these impacts out, from the perspective of intergenerational trauma, which can be described as,
"the apparent transmission of trauma between generations of a family. People who experience adverse childhood experiences growing up, or who have survived historical disasters or traumas, may pass the effects of those traumas on to their children or grandchildren, through their genes, their behaviour, or both, leaving the next generational susceptible to anxiety, depression, hypervigilance, and other emotional and mental health concerns."
I'd argue that intergenerational trauma can continue well beyond a person's grandchildren, particularly in cases where the systemic factors may have caused a trauma (for example: racial segregation, colonialism), continue to impact on multiple generations of a family.
So lets start by looking at Carmy's mother, Donna Berzatto...
Donna's trauma
I preface the below analysis with the caveat that we are not told what mental health diagnoses (if any) Donna Berzatto has (though she is clearly struggling with her mental health when we first meet her in 2x06 Fishes). The inferences I make below are based on what we have been told in the show about trauma that Donna has experienced.
Recall 3x08 Ice Chips where Donna and Natalie are talking in between bouts of Natalie's contractions. At one point in the episode, Natalie says:
I don't remember your mom.
To which, Donna sadly responds:
You don't want to.
Donna then becomes silently tearful remembering her mother.
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Its clear from this very brief exchange that Donna has experienced some level of abuse at the hands of her own mother: Michael, Natalie and Carmy's maternal grandmother. That abuse has no doubt impacted on Donna's ability to parent her own children and likely influenced how she parented them as well.
As a mother myself, I've found that one of the hardest things about parenting has been avoiding the repetition of harmful behaviours that I've picked up through my own childhood. For all of us, the first - and often most memorable - models we have for how to parent have been the experiences we've had with our own primary caregivers (whether they were our birth parents or other adults in our lives). If those models were abusive or violent, we have to work that much harder to make sure we don't fall back on those examples when raising our own children. (And let me tell you, in the heat of the moment when your child is cracking a tanty in the grocery store, it takes A LOT to not revert to learned behaviours and instead take a step back and act from a rational place of calm lol).
For many folks who've had abusive childhoods, raising your own children can also be a very triggering journey. This article goes into a bit of why this is the case. If you've not been able to do any work on yourself or receive help to work through your own childhood abuse, you risk "blowing your trauma through" your children (I've borrowed the phrase "blowing trauma through" from African-American therapist and trauma specialist, Dr Resmaa Menakem, whose fantastic book My Grandmother's Hands has also influenced this post and a lot of my thinking about racial and intergenerational trauma). Given Donna's own history of abuse with her mother, its not a big leap to assume that she has "blown her trauma through" Michael, Natalie and Carmy with each of her children experiencing this in different ways.
There's also Donna's clear mom rage, no doubt built up over years as a single parent, and epitomised in the line from 2x06 (that broke my heart when I heard it because it resonated so much),
I make things beautiful for them, and no one makes things beautiful for me.
Based on the show's lore, up until 3x08 it wasn't evident that Donna had ever taken any steps to try and work through her own mental health issues and trauma. Once we get to 3x08 though, when Natalie says that she didn't tell Donna about her pregnancy because,
I just didn't want all the stuff you bring with you.
Donna replies by saying:
Yeah. I've been trying to put that stuff away.
Natalie then asks her mother how that process is going and Donna responds,
Its not easy.
Natalie then tells her mother that she's glad Donna is trying and Donna says she's glad that she's trying too.
Its not much, but the above exchange points to a slight shift in Donna's approach to her own trauma and to her parenting. This shift appears to have put Donna and Natalie's relationship on firmer footing than it has been in the past. Whether it will be enough for Carmy's relationship with his mother is another question and one I'm sure we'll see play out in season 4.
The Berzattos and Italian American racialised trauma
Other than the above exchange in 3x08 Ice Chips, we have no information about Donna's parents. I assume that Donna was born in America given her description of the Feast of the Seven Fishes (also known as La Vigilia) as described to Richie in 2x06 Fishes. During her description, Donna speaks about the Italian immigrants who brought "their seven best things" with them as if she's speaking about ancestors, not her own generation.
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She does not use the first person here:
[I]ts based on people who left Italy to find new dreams and homes with new people. And they brought their seven best things from their sea to their new homes. And not so their families end up being a bunch of fuckin' jagoffs. (lmao)
Then Class A Jagoff, Uncle Lee storms into the kitchen and tells Donna that her retelling of the Seven Fishes legend is "not even close" and refers to all the sevens that occur in the Bible. Which is likely a closer explanation for the feast (see this overview on La Vigilia published on the Italian Sons and Daughters of America website). Notably, it was southern Italian and Sicilian immigrants that popularised the Feast of the Seven Fishes in America.
Given the above, it doesn't seem to me that Donna is a first generation Italian immigrant. Depending on the Berzatto family history, its possible that Donna is the daughter of Italian immigrants or the granddaughter of them. Her Italian ancestry could stretch even further back in time. At this point in The Bear, we don't know.
What we should note is that Italian immigrants and in particular, southern Italian and Sicilian immigrants to America, endured a history of racism in that country before their acceptance into the category of "white" in America.
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Image source: How Italians Became 'White', The New York Times
This NY Times article provides an overview of the racialisation of Italians in America over time. The article notes that,
"[d]arker skinned southern Italians endured the penalties of blackness on both sides of the Atlantic. In Italy, Northerners had long held that Southerners - particularly Sicilians - were an 'uncivilized' and racially inferior people, [considered] too obviously African to be part of Europe."
This racism of northern Italians towards those from the south of the country was no doubt tied to Italy’s own racist and violent colonial history, including its involvement in Europe's rabid "Scramble for Africa". In the course of its time as a colonial power, Italy came to brutally invade and occupy Eritrea, Somalia, Libya and Ethopia.
Note: I don't think its a coincidence that, Ebraheim, Somalian "grill master", medic and veteran of the American military intervention in Somalia, found himself working at an Italian American beef sandwich shop. Much in the same way that its no surprise that many folks in my Tamil family ended up in the heart of the British Empire - the UK - after fleeing civil unrest and genocide in one of its former colonies (Sri Lanka). As Tamil writer A.S. Sivanandan is famously quoted as saying about post-colonial migration: "we are here, because you were there."
Once they first arrived in America in the 19th century, racism against Southern Italians continued:
"They were sometimes shut out of schools, movie houses and labor unions, or consigned to church pews set aside for black people. They were described in the press as 'swarthy', 'kinky haired' members of a criminal race and derided in the streets with epithets [that were more commonly] applied to enslaved Africans and their descendants[.]"
Though while Italian Americans experienced the severe racial prejudice described above, particularly during their early history in America, some were still able to benefit from their European ancestry in ways that people with non-European backgrounds were unable to. This included: being able to apply for US citizenship, being able to marry, own property, and choose where to live - things that BIPOC people often faced great barriers (if not outright bans) to accessing.
Notably, in Chicago where the Berzattos are based, the history of Italian racialisation differed to other major cities in America. In Italian Immigrants, Whiteness and Race: A Regional Perspective (p. 6) Italian historian Stefano Luconi notes that,
[I]n Chicago, Italian Americans competed primarily with Polish immigrants, who generally turned out to be less hostile to them than Irish Americans in New York City or Boston, and overall their accommodation within the adoptive society was easier than elsewhere.
Given the above, the Berzattos' connection with Polish "family members" Uncle Jimmy Kalinowski, Uncle Lee Lane, and Cousin Richie Jerimovich appears rooted in a long history of Polish-Italian relations in Chicago.
Note: Ancestry.com tells me Kalinowski is a Polish and Jewish last name. Uncle Lee identifies as "Polski" in 2x06 Fishes and in the draft script for 2x06 is listed as Uncle Jimmy's brother. While Richie's ethnicity isn't explicitly stated in The Bear, in 3x04 Violet, he refers to his daughter Eva as żabka which is Polish for "small frog" and is also used as a term of endearment for girls or women.
Eventually Italian Americans were assimilated into the racial category of "white" both legally and in the popular imagination of the country. This happened in a few ways including via Italian Americans claiming whiteness for themselves, particularly in active opposition to Black, African American communities. This is despite their historic racialisation in comparison to Black, African-descent people (which, in a better world, could have been the basis for shared and sustained solidarity between the two communities). Luconi observes that,
"in Brazos County, Texas, Italian Americans learned to claim whiteness for self-protection, which involved showing off hostility toward African Americans in the mid-1890s [...] By the same token, after realizing the social benefits of being characterized by a white identity, Italian Americans in Baltimore embraced the racist premises of the local political leadership in the early twentieth century and joined two campaigns that unsuccessfully aimed at disenfranchising African Americans in 1905 and 1909 by amending the state constitution." from: Italian Immigrants, Whiteness and Race: A Regional Perspective (p. 15)
The above NY Times article states that in 1892, the lynching of 11 Italian immigrants who were accused of killing a police chief in New Orleans resulted in Italy breaking diplomatic relations with America. As a result of this and to prevent unrest in the Italian American community, US President Benjamin Harrison proclaimed 12 October as "Columbus Day" and encouraged Americans to celebrate the contribution of the Italian Christopher Columbus to the creation of America.
Apparently, this sleight of hand (a legerdemain because it: (a) magically erased generations upon generations of First Nations who have existed in the Americas long before Columbus' arrival (and who continue to do so), and (b) because it vanished the explorer's penchant for rape and enslavement of the First Nations' people that he did encounter) was enough to reinstate diplomatic relations between America and Italy as well as carve out a place for Italian Americans in the white, American imaginary.
Indeed, despite recent calls to stop the celebration of Columbus Day led by First Nations people across America, it is Italian American organisations (including the Italian Sons and Daughters of America) and prominent Italian Americans that are some of those voices leading campaigns to keep Columbus Day as it is, reductively and disingenuously dismissing its critics as attacking Italian-American heritage.
Note: the above views are obviously not shared by all Italian Americans. See below protest staged by Italian Americans in the Berzattos' hometown of Chicago, in opposition to the city's Columbus Day Parade (Source: Fox 32 Chicago):
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One of my heroes, Toni Morrison, once said of American national identity,
"In this country, American means white. Everybody else has to hyphenate."
White supremacy operates amongst racialised communities through divide and rule, with these communities pitted against one another, trying to achieve as close a proximity to whiteness as possible. In the US context, that proximity brings those communities closer to what is perceived as "American". The above examples show how some Italian American communities in America shifted the racial categorisation of their community to "white" over time by fighting for that proximity. I would argue that that shift came at a great cost, as all racism does: a cost to the BIPOC communities that were fucked over in the process and a cost to the souls of those now "white" Italian Americans who participated in divide and rule to get closer to a white supremacist position of power. Dr Resmaa Menakem would refer to those costs as traumas for both BIPOC communities and (now) white, Italian American communities.
In My Grandmother's Hands, Dr Menakem discusses the impact of racialised trauma on white people. Specifically, that white supremacy - or as Dr Menakem refers to it, "white body supremacy" - is itself a trauma response. I won't get into the details of this framework (and make this post longer than it already is lol) except to say its fascinating and I'd encourage you to read My Grandmother's Hands to find out more. Its relevance here is to illustrate that on top of our individual, personal traumas, we each carry with us racialised trauma. I make the point of articulating this because while The Bear alludes to race (sometimes masterfully as in this scene where Donna tries to play divide and rule in her own way), it often does so obliquely in ways that are not always obvious to viewers (for example, see director Ramy Youssef's discussion in Variety about the bike crash scene in 2x04 Honeydew). But make no mistake, race permeates this show.
For example, I think about Uncle Lee’s jab at Mikey in 2x06 about the latter living with his mom, and compare this to Marcus living with his mother throughout seasons 1-2 or Sydney living with her father in seasons 1-3. I think about how in many communities of colour, multi-generational living isn’t seen as shameful because the focus is not just on financial dependence but on relationships and care. Certainly, an adult child might not be financially independent but if they are caring for their parent, this is something to be valued.
I think about how the move to individualism (championed by Uncle Lee) away from family and community (features that Italian culture is historically very well known for) is a shift that, for many Italian Americans, may be viewed as a cost incurred as a result of an allegiance to white supremacy.
I think also about the words of Tema Okun, who wrote about how white supremacy shows up in organisational and professional settings in her 1999 article "White Supremacy Culture" and how in that work, Okun noted particular identifying characteristics of organisational, white supremacist culture, including (but not limited to):
individualism;
perfectionism;
either/or & binary thinking; and
a sense of urgency.
Sound familiar? I thought they might. These are traits that Carmy has exhibited in almost every episode of season 3 (and periodically in seasons 1-2). Notably, these are traits that are also valorised in the world of fine dining, as we see it through Carmy's eyes throughout season 3 (in flashbacks and in how he chooses to run The Bear). And we all know how well this shit is going for our man (lol).
I'll get into this more in an upcoming meta (again, this is me manifesting in a bid to force myself to finish writing the thing lol), but I just wanted to point out how both in terms of his racialisation and his professional career, Carmy is immersed in white supremacy - whether he wants to be or not - benefiting from its privileges while also being witness and therefore, subject, to its horrors. No one escapes this shit, not even those who've been welcomed into the fold at the top of the hierarchy.
All of this - the racialised history and trauma associated with the Italian American community as well as the clear whiteness that marks the fine dining industry - makes Carmy's character that much more fascinating to me. Here is a character with seemingly no personal prejudices towards BIPOC folks. He loves the BIPOC folks in his life quite dearly (in particular, Marcus who he treats as a brother, and of course Sydney, in whom he's found a soulmate). I think this is likely due in large part to the role Carmy's siblings (Mikey and Natalie) played in raising him. These two characters also appear to care deeply for the BIPOC people in their lives without much of the prejudice that many who have been racialised and socialised in their community might harbour. And in their roles as surrogate parents for Carmy, they appear to have modelled that healthy and normal (because we must remember, what is abnormal is racism) respect for their fellow humans. They're not perfect in this (recall 2x06 and Mikey's bombastic objectification of Claire) but we do see repeated glimpses of their goodness throughout the show (recall 3x06 and Mikey's kindness to Tina, or the pantry scene in 2x06 and the gentleness he displays towards Carmy there). This is in contrast to their mother, Donna, who clearly has done no work to prevent blowing her own racialised trauma and prejudice through the bodies of her kids.
Also while the racialisation of The Bear's BIPOC characters is readily apparent (because the white supremacist culture of the West is more attuned to looking at non-white people and automatically seeing race), its white characters are also racialised and have racialised histories. The above was my attempt at stepping out a bit of the racialisation of The Berzattos, of Carmy, and of the racialised trauma that they also carry with them.
Phew.
Okay, now back to the Berzattos...
Carmy's birth
Recall 3x08 Ice Chips and Donna telling Natalie the stories of each of her children's births. By far, the birth that appears to cause Donna the most rage, the most pain, is Carmy's. It also happens to be the only birth out of her three children that her (by all accounts) deadbeat husband is present for. Donna describes fighting with her husband during the entirety of her labour with Carmy and that the hospital was fucked because it seemed like everyone went into labour at the same time. She then tells Natalie that Carmy took a long time to arrive:
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Note: Its not lost on me that Carmy's obsession with speed, rushing and sense of urgency was almost definitely drilled into him from birth, given the rage with which Donna describes his "slowness" in being born.
Donna then goes onto express how frightened she was and the further difficulties involved in Carmy’s delivery:
It was so hard and so scary because he kept getting stuck, and they just kept having to move me, and I remember they were moving me in all these positions. And then at one point, I think they had me fucking upside down or something.
And then, so brutally it becomes darkly funny (I've pushed a kid out too: it can be so painful, if you don't laugh, you'll sob hysterically lol), Donna describes Carmy's birth as just all around fucked:
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The whole thing was fucked:
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No seriously, very fucked:
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So Carmy entered the world and the experience of his delivery was fucked nine ways to Sunday for his mother. A very difficult beginning to this life for a baby, to say the least. I would go so far as to say, given the way Donna is recounting Carmy's birth, that she experienced birth trauma, and possibly developed birth-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Contrast this with how Donna describes Michael's and Natalie's births:
Despite Michael also having difficulty being born (Donna recalls that it seemed like "he wanted to stay" in the safety of her womb), Donna says that she felt really good, great and strong during her labour with him and that his birth was even described by a doctor as an "amazing" one.
Donna describes Natalie's birth as "beautiful" with Natalie arriving after Donna had had a restful sleep and a vivid, prophetic dream. Donna then goes onto tell Natalie that she was delivered in the presence of a "sweet" girlfriend (Cicero's first wife, Gail) who sat with Donna during labour and who played "Baby, I Love you" for Donna as Natalie arrived.
The differences in how Donna recalls Mikey, Nat and Carmy's births and Donna's propensity in the past for holding her children's "mistakes" over their heads (recall 2x06 Fishes and the story of how Natalie got the nickname "Sugar"), make me think that she was likely to have rubbed Carmy's difficult birth in his face when he was younger. I think that Donna was also likely to have either intentionally or unintentionally (or perhaps both, depending on the circumstance) made Carmy feel less than his older siblings, maybe not as wanted. We have some evidence pointing to this happening in Carmy's past, peppered throughout the show.
Growing up in the Berzatto house:
As a child Carmy had a stutter, which causes speech to inherently slow (as it takes longer to form words and sentences). He was also scared to speak. Now a stutter in and of itself would not make the person speaking scared. Its other people's reactions to a stutter that would do that. Given Donna's vitriol at how slow Carmy's birth was, and her obsession with time (anyone fancy a kitchen timer? this lady's got 700 of them), its not a stretch to imagine that any delay in Carmy articulating himself as a child would have been met with ridicule or rage from his mother.
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We know that all the Berzatto children grew up scared of their mother, a survivor of abuse herself, and an addict who drank to excess with clear mental health issues that it didn’t appear she was seeking treatment for. Recall Natalie's disclosure to Donna in 3x08 Ice Chips:
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Carmy also grew up embedded in a particularly toxic type of white, heterosexual masculinity embodied by his brother Mikey and "cousin" Richie (who undoubtedly had it blown through their bodies by family, friends and the white supremacist, homophobic culture we are swimming in, in the West). I've previously discussed this in my meta on the use of 90s alternative rock in The Bear and more recently, in this reblog of @mitocamdria's meta Sublimation and Intellectual Orgasms.
Carmy gets called "a weird little dude" for knowing how to mix a drink in 2x06. He gets called a "gayrod" for owning the Noma cookbook in 1x01. He gets called a "soft shitty bitch" for calling Pete instead of Natalie in 1x05. He gets called a "mopey little fuck" in 2x06 for questioning Mikey and Richie right before they accost him with a veritable wall of gross dudebro, horndog descriptions of Claire (a girl they know and are friends with - again, fucking gross). Carmy hears his mother describe Steve as "gay" for being "arty" in 2x06 (recall that Carmy is also "arty" in that he can draw and likes fashion). If you weren't performing alpha-male dominance like Mikey, Richie, Uncle Lee or even Uncle Jimmy, the Berzatto household was a rough place to be. Truth is though, that all of those white, alpha-males have their own demons, and in the case of Mikey, those demons drove him to take his own life. The truth is that, like white supremacy, no one escapes toxic masculinity unscathed either.
We know Carmy suffered from low self-confidence as a child which might have led him to feeling aimless. He tells us in 1x08 Braciole that he got shitty grades because he couldn't pay attention in school, he didn't get into college, didn't have any girlfriends or many friends for that matter. Carmy also tells us in that same monologue that he wasn't "built" in the same way as his brother, who could walk into a room and take its temperature right away, who was loud, hilarious and magnetic.
I think about how for someone like Carmy, Mikey would have cast a long shadow. I think about how hard it would have been to have lived under that shadow while trying to figure yourself out.
It wasn't until working in fine dining that Carmy found his purpose. He says in 1x08,
For the first time in my life, I started to find this station for myself.
This must have been intoxicating and affirming for Carmy. Yet I think about how, after all that, he could return home having achieved accolades and fanfare in his career, try his best in the chaos of a Berzatto family Christmas to diffuse the powder keg that is Donna, and still be called "Michael" by his mother, his very existence in that moment, feeling like a puff of smoke.
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We also know that Carmy's eldest siblings ended up being like surrogate parents for him. Mikey almost certainly was a father figure given the absence of his biological father in Carmy's life. Its not a stretch to imagine Natalie as taking on the role of a surrogate mother, given Donna's abuse and how Natalie looks out for almost everyone throughout seasons 1-3 of The Bear. In this video, Jeremy Allen White also talks about the tattoo Carmy has of two angels with a sun in between them as representing his brother and his sister, further confirming the roles of his "guardian angel" siblings.
I think about Natalie, parentified big sister that she is, sneaking a wad of cash into Carmy’s pocket as he leaves her and Chicago for New York in 3x01. I think about her calling him “honey” in that same episode as she affirms that she knows how good he is at being a chef - “honey” being a term of endearment commonly used in family settings but between parents and their children, not as commonly heard between siblings.
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I also think about Mikey being born the eldest, the first and only (for a time) to have to deal with his mother's trauma and expectations. I think about how he took on the work of looking after his mother and his siblings when his father left the Berzatto home. I think about how Mikey is described by the actor who plays him, as a "dreamer who's not allowed to dream. He has to take care of everybody."
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Loose ends
Another set of incidents haunting spread throughout season 3 also raised concerns for me, in that they remain unresolved and point to a resolution or confrontation for Carmy and the Berzattos in season 4. I named them in my reblog of @espumado's post on The Night of the Hunter. For ease of reference, I'll bullet point them here:
Carmy finds a box labelled "DD" (his mother, Donna's nickname) at The Bear at the end of 3x05 and looks through it. He appears frozen as he finds a baby photo of his mother holding a baby I assume is him. The episode ends at this moment and neither the box or Carmy's reaction are revisited for the remainder of season 3
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Cicero tells Carmy during 3x09 that Donna wants Carmy to call her back about "the baby" (one assumes this is a reference to Natalie's baby) and that Carmy has been "fucking avoiding it" (one assumes again that the "it" here is the baby...but maybe its also just the act of calling Donna back)
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But then Carmy says something strange:
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Yeah. Hoping it would just go away.
Surely, Carmy's not talking about a baby. Babies can't just go away. And I don't think Carmy is so malicious that he'd wish his sister's child to disappear. I also don't think Carmy would refer to his mother as "it" (he's never done so up to this point on the show, as monstrous as she can be).
And in case you were wondering, Cicero's response to Carmy also doesn't sound like it applies to a baby or Donna (lol):
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[Y]ou run right the fuck into it.
Intergenerational trauma and legacy
So what is the "it" that Carmy wants to go away? What is the "it" that Uncle Jimmy tells him to face by running "right the fuck into it"? My suspicion is that this is Carmy's baggage. The baggage that comes with being born a Berzatto and being born to Donna. All the stuff that we've been talking about here. Its also the baggage that both Nat and his mother have been trying to "put away":
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Above from 3x02 Next: Natalie in conversation with Carmy. "Its not great 8am stuff."
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Above from 3x08 Ice Chips: Donna in conversation with Natalie.
Carmy is trying to do this too: put away his baggage, while having been the "Lost Child" (referring to ACA roles and the recording about them that Natalie was listening to at the end of 3x07 Legacy) and the youngest child in his family for so long but now having to be the "Hero". @vacationship's post on ACA roles as they relate to The Bear gives a great breakdown on what the "lost child" and "hero" roles mean.
In the LA Times interview mentioned above, Jeremy Allen White says,
I don't think Carm's ever been outside of himself enough to really take in another person in their entirety, sadly. I think that's Carmen's real struggle.
As the youngest child of the Berzattos, Carmy has never had to step outside of himself to the extent that Mikey, Natalie or even Donna have had to. He has never had to care for anyone other than himself, until he inherits The Beef. And that responsibility is a HUGE one.
But Carmy jumps into that role, initially fuelled by the desire to retroactively fix his relationship with Mikey and fix "the family". Recall again his monologue in 1x08 Braciole:
[I]ts very clear to me trying to fix the restaurant, was me trying to fix whatever was happening with my brother. And I don't know, maybe fix the whole family because that restaurant, it has and it does mean a lot to people. It means a lot to me.
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For the longest time, I interpreted "the family" that Carmy refers to here as his chosen family: the crew at The Beef. I think that while that was true, it wasn't the whole picture. I think Carmy was actually being more expansive in his definition of family to include his entire family: chosen and birth.
So while Carmy is obviously trying to make The Bear a success for Sydney ("Syd, we're going to get a star") and for Marcus ("Take us there Bear", "Yes, Chef"), as well as for the rest of the chosen family he first found at The Beef, Carmy is also trying to fix the restaurant for the Berzattos. Specifically, Carmy is trying to do what his father and brother couldn't do in keeping The Beef/The Bear going. He is trying to embody the Hero ACA role, vacated by Mikey with the latter's passing, even though his sister told him from the start, in 1x01:
No one's asking you to.
What I think I took for granted this season was just how much Carmy's desire to repair the legacy of the father figures in his life (as represented by the restaurant) was brought to an urgent and frenetic head for him in the late stages of Natalie's pregnancy. Upon rewatch of 3x09 Apologies, I picked up on some interesting script choices and imagery that I think have been chosen purposefully to relay to us that this is the case and that the impending birth of his niece is indeed, weighing on Carmy.
Now, at the start of 3x09, Carmy may or may not know Natalie has just had her baby. I assume he does. After Marcus watches that clip about magic, followed by unnecessary Fak, Claire and dumpster content (lol) and then Sydney practising how she's going to break Shapiro's offer to Carmy, we cut to the kitchen of The Bear and we hear Carmy calling out orders while running expo. He's yelling again. His voice is hoarse like it was in 3x03 during his panic attack. We see Carmy's intrusive thoughts at a rapid clip intercut with close ups of his, Sydney's and Richie's faces. We also hear Carmy repeatedly yelling at the staff to push:
Please give me the fucking agnolotti. Push.
Lets fucking push, please. Lets fucking go.
Push, please.
Push, chefs! Please! The cook is fucked. Refire, please.
Push.
From a quick google, "push" is used in restaurant settings but not in the way Carmy's doing here. I've seen it used to mean "sell" an item (as in getting a server to "push" a particular dish to diners so they order it) as well as to describe a busy period during service (as in the restaurant is in the middle of a "push").
In 3x09, Carmy is yelling “push” like a midwife at his sister's side while she pushes out her child, the next generation of Berzattos, into the world. But instead of his niece, Carmy is trying to deliver one more in a litany of dinner services at The Bear.
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Note: you can clearly see here that the jagged lines that have appeared since season 1 when Carmy is having intrusive thoughts are actually made up of what look to be hundreds of claw marks. I've noted in a previous reblog of one of @thoughtfulchaos773's posts (that I can't find atm sorry) that this evokes Carmy (the Bear) trying to claw his way out of a mental spiral and back to equilibrium. @currymanganese also noted that the lines themselves look like a neural network, driving the point about Carmy's mental state home.
And then directly after the above "push" scene, we see copious amounts of water ejected over the The Bear's kitchen island, washing away flesh coloured food and sauce that looks like blood splatter:
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Having rewatched 3x09 through the lens of intergenerational trauma, with the spectre of Natalie's labour, Carmy's apparent resistance to seeing Natalie or her baby, and having just heard his hoarse voice screaming push, push, push...to me this water started looking a whole lot like birth waters breaking, and amniotic fluid flooding The Bear:
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Note: Rest assured, amniotic fluid doesn't contain all those suds.
@espumado pointed out in their The Night of the Hunter meta that the song playing during the above "push" and "broken waters" scenes of 3x09 is a song by Trent Reznor and Atticus Finch from a war documentary. The song is "The Forever Rain" from the documentary series The Vietnam War by Ken Burns and Lynn Novick. I'm sure its no coincidence that a song from a documentary about the Vietnam War - a war whose veterans were the first to be assessed for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) - is being used in a scene acting as an allegory for childbirth, given what we know about how traumatic Carmy's birth was for his mother, and inevitably, for him as an infant.
So why is Carmy so preoccupied with Natalie's pregnancy and the birth of his niece?
I think this all ties back to what Carmy told us in 1x08: that he wants to fix the restaurant (and in the context of season 3, this means making The Bear a success) and that in doing so, fix his family.
Note: which is also why I think we are shown that magic clip that Marcus is watching at the beginning of 3x09 with this bit of dialogue from it: "What makes magic different is that its inherently honest. You tell someone you're gonna deceive them before you deceive them. In some way, that makes it more difficult." We were told in 1x08 what the restaurant means to Carmy and his reasons for fixing it, but Storer and co have spent all of season 3 distracting us with Claire and Fak-shaped sleights of hand getting us looking elsewhere to understand Carmy's behaviour. By 3x10, Carmy's motives haven't changed. He's doing this for his family. All of his family.
Specifically in the context of Nat's pregnancy, Carmy wants to ensure that The Bear is a success for the next generation of Berzatto children, for his niece. And if Carmy is being haunted by a need to fix his family's legacy, particularly given the impending arrival of Natalie's baby - the youngest Berzatto after him - then his desperate, rageful plea to Syd after she brings him back from his panic attack in 3x03 Doors, is even more distressing:
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They're going too fucking slow!
What Carmy means is:
I'm going too slow and this restaurant is going to fail because of it. And this baby is going to inherit my failure, just like I inherited Mikey's and just like he inherited our father's.
Remember: Natalie is a part owner of The Bear and so any financial failure of the restaurant will be felt by her and her family just as it would be felt by Carm.
What Carmy needs to realise is that while a brick and mortar institution may fail, what remains are the relationships, the people that he has met because of it (shout out to Chef Terry and her speech in 3x10 Forever, also shout out to Mikey and his chat with Tina in 3x06 Napkins). And if there are people - if there are relationships - there's always the chance to build another future together, again.
Conclusion (yep, I'm almost done)
I think about how whether he likes it or not, Carmy was able to pursue his passion in cooking because of his family’s racial (and class) privilege, particularly as a member of a community that was invited to join in the spoils of white supremacy. This privilege was most clearly embodied by the fact that the Berzattos had the means to own The Beef and the culinary opportunities for Carmy that flowed from that work and experience (contrast this with Sydney, Marcus and Tina's experiences in entering this field, which I've discussed here and which @freedelusionshere discusses here).
I think about how Carmy subverted and used that privilege to bring along the original crew of The Beef with him to The Bear, lifting up his largely BIPOC employees. And then I think about how he ran roughshod over them in order to try and meet the insane expectations he'd set for himself (in large part, as a result of his family's history).
I think about the safety net that Carmy had with Natalie and Mikey who were there to take care of The Beef, their family and their unwell mother, giving Carmy the room to find himself professionally. I think about Mikey leaving behind a restaurant for Carmy but also leaving behind an entire family for him too.
I think about Carmy not realising that while The Beef was a burden in some ways, it was a blessing in so many others.
I think about the clear intergenerational trauma that Carmy is contending with while trying to balance so many perceived, competing demands.
I also think about Donna's dream, the night she went into labour with Natalie:
In this nothing dream, I mean nothing dream. And it wasn't Chicago, and it wasn't New York. It was some sort of hybrid city, you know? And there was a fish tank. Big fish tank in the middle of the city. It was this giant fish tank, and I was the only one looking at it.
[...]
And I remember the colours were, they were so sharp and vivid and neon, you know, and I was the only one looking at it.
[...]
I was just staring at it for the longest time. And all of a sudden, I noticed that the glass started to come apart like it was gonna split. But I wasn't worried, you know? It wasn't bad, because I knew that more people were gonna get to see these beautiful fish.
And then I woke up, and I was sweating, and my water had broke.
When Donna had her children, she had no idea that she would lose her eldest child to suicide. She likely had no idea how far she was going to push her daughter away from her due to her abuse, and she most certainly did not know that her youngest would cease contact with her for years while becoming a renowned chef. None of us parents know for certain how things are going to turn out for our children, or for our relationships with them.
We can only hope, and do our best: do our best to break harmful cycles while trying to nurture children who will leave the world a better place than it was when when they arrived. And if our kids manage to do this not because of us but in spite of us, in spite of our slip ups and mistakes, in spite of our baggage, then honestly, we should be even prouder of them. Because it meant they were able to integrate our trauma, our histories, and their trauma, and their histories, all of it, and make something beautiful, something better.
And I think I can see why Donna wasn't worried when the fish tank started to crack. I get why she was so happy that more people were going to get to see her beautiful children and the world they were going to create, in spite of everything and because of everything.
As usual, tagging folks who might be interested (absolutely no pressure to read this fucking long ass thing though), but keen to hear from anyone who wants to discuss:
@currymanganese @thoughtfulchaos773 @moodyeucalyptus @vacationship @mitocamdria @brokenwinebox @espumado @tvfantic87 @turbulenthandholding @anxietycroissant @angelica4equity @devisrina @kdbleu @freedelusionshere @ambeauty @afrofairysblog @fresaton @hwere @ciaomarie @ambeauty
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rise-my-angel · 2 months
Text
I did some rewatching of scenes from House of the Dragon, and I think I've found a root problem with the writing.
And it isn't what was or was not adapted from Fire and Blood, or the plot or characters directions. There are issues there, but there is a bigger one I think that has been severely under analyzed. A massive problem with this show that has a big impact even when you don't realize, is how clunky and unnatural 90% of the dialogue is.
Something Game of Thrones did right, was take the dialogue from the books, and translate it to the screen by simplifying certain things, tightening sentences and changing wordage so that the actors had an easy time delivering the lines. It was a really good mix of the more formal speech and casual delivery. It meant lines that are good in the book, are good but different in the show because they cleaned up the dialogue so it didn't sound forced from the actors.
Everyone gets to speak in the appropriate manner for their class level, but it also is just quick and to the point. The actors all got a chance to do an amazing job, because they weren't forcing their talent through clunky and awkward to say dialogue.
House of the Dragon, is not doing this.
A significant amount of dialogue in this show takes way too long. Characters constantly use very overly formal, flowery, and fanciful language to say the simplest things even when they are alone in a room. Game of Thrones through all it's faults, knew how to cut to the chase and get the characters to just say what they are meant to say without trying so hard to sound fantasy like. But in HOTD, everyone talks like the writers are trying way too hard to make everyone sound like their from a different time when in reality it just bogs the show down and makes it boring.
A lot of good actors on this show fall flat because they have to force through awkward dialogue that normal people just don't sound like when they speak. Whenever Rhaenyra and Leanor discuss their marriage, it is so painfully unnatural. They are alone in the room, and neither of them ever just say what they mean.
When we saw this exact dynamic. As soon as Renly let the veil slip that he is struggling to go through with having sex with Margaery, she drops the act entirely and just cuts to the chase saying, "There's no need for us to play games." They are a bit more formal in the way they say things, but they still talk like real people. Rhaenyra and Leanor never had a single discussion that wasn't overly flowery as both characters talked around an issue we already understood. Laenor is gay and its putting a strain both on his personal mental health and their marriage as a whole. But neither of them ever get to the POINT without taking way too long to say the most basic of things.
Watch back to back scenes from both shows, and you will see that House of the Dragon completely fails to immerse you in it's dialogue beacuse it is trying so hard. Take the scene where Jace returns home after meeting with the Freys. Rhaenyra knows Jace is troubled about not being allowed to participate in the war, and this is the initial start of that discussion.
Rhaenyra: "You chafed at being prevented from action. Imagine my lot. I'm a dragonrider as well, with a war being fought over my ascension. And yet, I must wait here. Always prudent, sending others to fight and be felled in my name." Jace: "You are the queen. The tie that binds us. No harm can come to you." Rhaenyra: "And you are my son and I did not give you leave to go."
If I showed you that out of context, would you be able to tell me this is a mother and son disagreeing over their separate wants and choices during a war? No. It's full of words no one in Game of Thrones used in normal conversation. This is not how even highborns in this series talked to each other, this is writing dialogue in a way that is trying to sound like it is from a more medieval fantasy instead of just what real people sound like.
Neither actor delivering these lines sounds natural, neither can really portray the degree of frustration brewing between them when its being forced through this kind of bad writing.
Now take the same idea from Game of Thrones in a scene where Robb and Catelyn are in an argument over Robb's trust in Theon and Catelyns perceived frustration that Robb isn't putting priority on his sisters safety.
Robb: "Now I'm the one rebelling against the throne. Before me, it was father. You married one rebel and mothered another." Catelyn: "I mothered more than just rebels, a fact you seem to have forgotten." Robb: "If I trade the Kingslayer for two girls, my bannermen will string me up by my feet." Catelyn: "You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands? And Arya, I haven't heard a word about Arya. What are we fighting for if not for them?" Robb: "It's more complicated than that! You know it is."
Both use more formal language, but it's in how their sentence is structured rather then the words themselves. They're alone and they're both frustrated and they have absolutely no reason to mince words, they say exactly what they mean. By cleaning up the dialogue here to be more straight forward and simple, it allowed the actors to really shine. You truly feel Catelyns frustration stemming from her helplessness, and you feel Robbs understanding being overpowered by such a frustration that she won't understand his side. By the time Robb raises his voice and shouts at her, we don't take it as out of line because both of them have said exactly what they mean and the audience doesn't need Robb to apologize to know he didn't mean to yell and neither does Catelyn.
Not even the lowborn characters are saved from this in House of the Dragon. Theres a scene in Game of Thrones when Arya, Lommy, Hotpie, and Gendry are arguing by a stream about battle's and armour and they are all quick, talk over each other and it's very punchy and the flow is part of what makes it hilarious. Ser Davos is blunt and speaks with a very quick cadence to emphasize he was never taught to speak formally and thus feels comfortable saying exactly whats on his mind.
Most of the lowborns in House of the Dragon though, have very little differentiation from their highborn counterparts in the way their dialogue is structured. Some of the only differences is literally just, characters like Ulf have a lowborn accent, but that accent delivers the same kind of drawn out, overly formal dialogue that isn't present in Game of Thrones lowborns. It's very easy to distinguish who was raised how in the simple manner which they speak.
Highborns talk slower and more clearly and their sentences are structured a bit better, and lowborns normally talk faster with less refined accents and normally have no real issue saying whats on their mind because they are used to being surrounded by other people who don't care about being formal.
It might not be obvious, but the dialogue is a big reason why people struggle to connect to these characters far more then they did Game of Thrones. The dialogue is clunky, there is no distinction made as to why certain people talk this way or why it seems everyone around them speaks in the same manner when they have no reason to.
There's so much more to get through, to understand what these people are saying, thinking, and feeling because the dialogue works against them. The best acting is done, when the characters are silently reacting to each other because there's no fighting against bad writing to portray exactly what they need to.
Again, there are multiple comparative scenes that you could watch back to back and see this problem play out in real time. Scenes discussing similar issues or portraying similar emotions but House of the Dragon never reaches that emotional peak that connects it's audience to these characters as relatable, because we pick up on the fact that they don't talk like humans. They talk like they are performing a school play, not as if they are speaking like real people just talking to each other.
Try it yourself, the examples I used earlier. Say each set of lines out loud and deliver it with as much emotion as possible. Because I am willing to bet that the Game of Thrones dialogue will be a lot easier to say, and thus a lot easier to deliver with a real emotion.
There's no excuse. Game of Thrones took good book dialogue, and cleaned it up so it had a smooth transition into good show dialogue. House of the Dragon has the freedom to write most of it's own original dialogue since Fire and Blood is written as a historical record and not a pov narrative. There is no transition to make lines from the book that in full may sound clunky and unnatural out loud, into something clean and to the point that makes it easy for the actors to work with the dialogue instead of against it.
But House of the Dragon fails in inventing it's own dialogue, because at every turn it is trying way too hard to sound like the books instead of the show.
Trust me, you wonder why you can't connect, relate or really care about a lot of these characters? I'm willing to bet that the poor writing is doing a lot of heavy lifting for that.
If the characters don't even talk like humans, our brains are more likely to tune out, because it all sounds like actors reading a script, not characters speaking to each other realistically.
Real people talk like the characters in Game of Thrones. No one talks like the characters in House of the Dragon.
And that is a massive problem.
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rensukei · 2 years
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↻ ...something so innocent
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in which you make one right move, and you're suddenly all they want. ft. tsukishima kei & iwaizumi hajime
cw use of feminine clothing and pet names but never directly uses she/her prns, heavily suggestive. not proofread. wc: 1.2k
a/n ik this topic is vague but i LOVE the song i got the idea from. lay me down in my grave in 60 years and play this song. watch me come back to life from this mf beat. also apologies for the lack of paragraph indentation my computer just didn't like the idea of keeping those spaces ig
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of all people to test, tsukishima was not one of them; especially on the night that the sendai volleyball team was hosting a formal.
you in your pretty little dress, seated right next to the refined blonde—short his glasses this evening, instead swapped out for contacts and an all black suit—, were so perfect, keeping a watchful eye on your posture and tone of voice while in the presence of such opulent volleyball figures.
you turn to meet your painstakingly handsome fiancé, cursing him for how good he looks clad in black. "how's the wine, kei?" you ask, well aware of the answer.
he sets his glass down, taking extra care to not clang it against the table. "i'm trying my hardest to not wince at the taste of it." he lowly says with the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "i'm sure you aren't doing to well with it either though, princess. last time you had wine you were crying on the bathroom floor with my shirt because you thought you 'lost me.'"
"oh please, that was one time! i can handle a little red wine... and don't try to act like i don't notice you clenching the fabric of my dress with every sip you take, hypocrite." you reach ahead of you, grabbing a full glass of water. "have some."
"as if this will help," he takes a sip, "it feels like i've been served straight rubbing alcohol."
you giggle at his quip, "oop," you gently place your hand on the edge of the glass, "don't spill, kei." suddenly speaking just loud enough to where he could hear your faint whisper, you were too focused on the task at hand to realize the intimacy of your actions, "we don't need to be crying on the floor with my shirt now, do we?"
its by the grace of god that he didn't throw that very glass across the room and run out the door with you in his hand. something in the tone of your voice—or perhaps just the hushed, innocent nature of which it came across—made him flush a furious claret, similar to the repulsive beverage that may or may not have contributed to the slow heat rising to his cheeks.
after quickly recovering from the affect your words had on him, he sets the water down on the table as his hand slides underneath the tablecloth and onto your leg. his head dips down, lips dangerously close to your ear as his head is now hidden from the rest of the guests.
"oh, but we could be, princess," he softly mutters, "wouldn't that be fun? 'could put on a show for everyone—you'd like that now, wouldn't you angel?"
and just as quickly as it happened, it ended just as fast. his stature returned to his normal posture as if nothing happened; as if the most sinful words didn't fall past his lips. one thing stayed, though; his hand kept it's place on you underneath that table for the rest of the night.
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iwaizumi had just gotten home after a long day at practice, walking into your shared home with a huff as he sets his bags down. moving into the kitchen following the faint smell of cooking, he finds you above the stove with shorts and a tank top on, tied together with a pretty little apron hugging your figure.
"ah, welcome home, haji!!" you drop the utensils from your hand and run up to welcome him with a tight embrace.
he receives your affection as a small grunt slips past his lips at the impact. "well hello, angel," he revels in the way you fit against him, then quickly remembers that he's a sweaty volleyball trainer who hasn't showered yet. "ah, hold on, let me go shower-"
"let me run it for you," slipping out from his arms, you flip the stove off and move the empty pan to the sink, "i haven't actually started cooking yet so it can wait."
moving across the kitchen to where you keep your aprons, your back faces the worn out iwaizumi as he watches your hands slip behind you to undo the bow that was so neatly tied. but, uh oh, it seems as though it's accidentally gotten all knotted up-
"oh gosh.. haji, can you come help me with this? i think- i think it's stuck.."
its a mystery as to why something so innocent could possibly effect him this way. ...helping you untie the knot on your apron? this does not prompt him bending you over the counter in any instance. ever.
he tries his damned hardest to swat the indecent thoughts bubbling up in his mind away as he makes his way over to your struggling frame. it was so hard not to just fold you over right then and there; your hands behind your back, your hair up and out of the way... it was all too perfect.
he couldn't help the way his hands instinctively slid beneath the rough fabric of the apron, feeling the supple top under his calloused fingers.
"you know, doll, i had such a long day," he says lowly as his hands find their way around your body, "would you mind... helping me out a little?"
the unexpected movement and actions of your lover catch you by surprise, a sudden warmth beginning to pool. "oh, baby- i haven't even started dinner y-"
"aw, but it's okay, pretty. i'm not too hungry, anyways," he turns you around to meet his gaze, a look you know all too well at this point in your relationship. your head lifts as you reach up and graze his lustful lips with yours in a feverish kiss as he undoes the problematic knot at the small of your back, an action he's a bit too familiar with as his skillful hands waste no time.
needless to say, dinner was neglected and the shower was (fortunately) postponed.
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ps. i was going to do three-four charas but i got bored and impatient ;)
©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 :: tpwk!!
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