#they're so earnest!!! and it's not just them the whole show is so earnest and genuine in itself

[franeridan]

no but talking about the beginning of the kaido fight i dunno if it's just a personality of the characters involved sort of thing but i love the difference between the way lu zoro and law interact with each other vs with kidd and killer, there's an ease to their working off each other that's missing from how they move around kidd n killer and you would say it's normal since they've spent months together by then and all three of them fought doflamingo together already, but i love that oda keeps these things in mind when writing dynamics sm

#it's like with kidd and killer they're just doing their best not to get in each other's way #but between them they work /together/ and that's so neat to me #law will complain but then he'll shamble lu and zoro out of harm's way without prompting #and zolu keep their eyes on him the whole time too #with kidd n killer they follow up to their attacks or get out of the way to let them attack #while with each other they make use of each other's attacks to make their own #it's such a subtle difference but i so love it #no it's esp because it's subtle that i love it sm #they point out so often during wano that pirate alliances aren't meant to last but the strawhearts one is so damn solid it's like they're #one extended crew #they never doubt each other and take care of each other and trust they'll have each other's backs it's so SO good to see #i know this is supposed to say more about luffy than it should about law #in the sense that what oda's getting at is that luffy's earnestness keeps people around #but i think the fact that law stays solid by luffys side for the time covered by five whole arcs says something about his character too #oda tries to make you believe he's the traitor in the early stages of wano too which means he had #the right reasons and ways and times to betray them but neither he nor the hearts ever did #i dunno how to explain this but what i mean is that you don't keep an alliance like theirs without the work from both parts #law was as much an unwavering pillar for the samurai as luffy was #it's so!!!! wonderful!!!! to me #the way they work as one shows in how law was “alone” against kaido too i think #though i wish he had brought bepo it's still cool to me how that seems to imply he had his back covered by zolu already #and this might be stretching it but yk how law had picked no fight against big mom directly while lu picked a fight something like #five separate times? with her? both he and his crew and yet there was no mugiwara to defeat her but law was there instead #you know what i mean right I just think it's cool #even if oda didn't mean for it to be read this way and it just happened i still love how they share their fights and grudges like that #they have each other's backs all the way I love their alliance so damn much

[unproduciblesmackdown]

nonzero people podcasting about goosebumps the musical & it’s never enough. neither extensive enough nor enthusiastic enough & that’s coming from me which is the entire explanation for the assessment. 

on the same topic but a completely different point, i was just appreciating how extra fun i always find understudy buddy to be. and obviously i would like to think that maybe tina & the unit that is brooke & zeke are like, more neutral to amicable after the show lol. tina is a lot of fun as is, like, automatic shoutout to any character just being like, getting in the way being offputting / a pain and all powered by one’s own intensity, that’s fun & funny & who among us? and like yeah she’s also definitely doing the mean girl thing like, in the song as mentioned lmao like please, rein it in. and maybe she will, but then when other suspects are being kind of crossed off the list just before thee play she manages to just be regular supportive towards brooke, so that’s promising lol. and also just shoutout to the Fun of a lively antagonistic role, great stuff, delightful number for her there, and sure helping ramp things up. and zeke and brooke not just showing up for this one horror musical (also i would love to shoutout zeke’s plight there lmfao like, the experience of original readers of poto where the twist is “nah it’s not a phantom it’s just some wet pathetic guy” like he’s so hyped to be The Ghost Lead and then he’s like oh god i’m a romantic lead in a hole & i’m five & it’s embarrassing & i even know my counterpart irl (the bestie) like i guess technically the role’s a ghost by the end & good for the mystery mask wearing element being exciting still) but that they were unnamed ensemble members in guys & dolls & saw that through, they’re bringing support & appreciation for the theatre, & on the flipside tina might just enjoy the theatricality & attention from it but she was having a great time informing everyone that on top of their haunted school it’s a specifically haunted (cursed) play, so maybe she can also relate to zeke and brooke’s horror genre appreciation. and she might warm up at all to zeke when he’s cleared about the fact he wasn’t trying to prank their efforts into oblivion, at least to the same degree she can manage to provide regular supportiveness to brooke when it comes to it. and on the one hand, despite brooke and zeke sure seeming like that hell of an established unit like probably just have their [socializing at school] foundation covered by hanging out w/each other, they could let brian in on that easily enough for something of a triumvirate, but now not only are they bffs since 5ever who love a genre together, they sure had an Adventure in emile messing up by [you never try to scooby doo villain your way through it] but also doing it all wrong where they think You’re the danger here & that you’re going to murder them, plus it’s scary for real exploring the darkness elevator underground tunnels anytime, but also now they have this off the shits experience with that new guy friend who was a ghost for real. kind of its own bonding element & maybe you wouldn’t exactly let anyone else in on it, much less like, tina lmao. she might be interested in The Legend but she was also super interested in telling everyone all about it, and idk, difficult and weird to explain, thing it’d all be quite the stuff to process for one lol like sure we love drama and ghosts and attention too but it’s A Lot. ghosts are real and i online dated one except across time rather than space and he was just some guy hanging out and i also hung out with him sometimes but then in the end it got weird b/c he was the suspicious understudy all along and this role is really not coming through....but also hey, could talk about it all eventually, and tina’s got plenty of context already. next year’s cast n crew party for the last show, be like hey guess what, b/c we’re solidly amicable now also

plus being extracurricular buddies like, ms. walker head in hands dealing with these three menaces lmao....although zeke wasn’t Really up to that much, tina’s sure committed to the show, etc. and it’s like, being a student or teacher or anyone else at a middle school is just always gonna be like that. could really be worse, she can handle it. and maybe she can know of the lore also, she’s out here engaging in irl drama and lore about like avenging her grandmother’s theatrical aspirations, or none of this would be going on lol. get used to these three and actually they’re reliable really, maybe tina will have learned to better accept not getting the dream role, which will be an easier time for everyone. but it’s just always gonna be a handful lol but all these kids were also all about putting on the play too, actually, yes maybe some problems arose from messing around with the platform but they could’ve been worse problems (queues of ghosts in line for their turn at finally achieving one last goal of performing their part in this one damn play lol) and does seem like it’s engineering issues inherently rather than Just messing around backstage unsupervised which isn’t often otherwise going to be fatally risky, and maybe just give people a rundown about the riskiness of things that Isn’t emile’s botched effort where he mostly just made children afraid of Him. like idk, i did shop class throughout middle school, we avoided injury w/successful cautionary rundowns. brian’s one other last goal could’ve been about safety measures, but whaddaya gonna do. anyways point is, hanging out after school for theatre purposes and having an understanding and bonus patience affordance with the teacher in charge of this and maybe everyone gets to know the Real Ghost Story or maybe it’s zeke & brooke’s personal inside secret, it was already a shared adventure for all involved even if they didn’t get the Full story the way those two did, all of them are up for Drama and for Horror, they’re good to go. and good for them

#goosebumps the musical #like let's do a play by play of the show And this kind of meandering musing about any and all elements lmfao #funny when the [just some guy] was clearly not at all intending to murder them but so far as they know he might've. which yeah terrifying #and their Real Ghost was a just some guy new friend. brian truly just hanging out like yep what's up everyone. yeah i'll paint a set #and i can't get over book brian being all the more just So Nervous in general lmao that's like his whole thing #like is this some extra anxiety you get when you die & then have been a ghost abt it? maybe. or maybe he's just already like that. #either way lol. i Love how they talk abt maybe encountering an actual ghost via the platform & brian's like omgg nooo stopp ;m; too scary #if you're a kid who would've been scared of ghosts then....just b/c you happen to be one yourself. still like omg no stopppp #but zeke & brooke aren't too overly terrified of this possibility of Real Ghosts though it Is clear they're both scared in the abyss there #like. yeah fair. you're like eleven and that is scary for anyone and does involve various elements of not insignificant danger #and it's more fun when they Aren't utterly unfazed by everything happening in the story ofc. which they are not #and who knows maybe zeke's a bit put off about actual ghosts lmfao like he Did get ghost attacked. whoops #hopefully as simply disorienting as alarming rather than like yeah i had a whole fight for my life back there while gradually smothered #things that have you looking up folklore abt ghosts' breath stealing ability. like fatally or just a lil sip... #well i don't know. where is the fog patch haint warding tradition recited humorously from perhaps my grandma as the lore source there lol #not online i suppose. go figure. anyways theatres & ghosts & superstitions? already going on. the ghost light for sure. just add some more #and be all the more earnest with it lol. hey why do you always say ''brian no more of that shit please i don't care if you wanna be man 7'' #might still be more like ''i hope emile who's an alive guy out there doesn't try to kill me :/'' lmao fr.... #maybe he makes himself scarce a while but returns also. kids probably wouldn't tell a soul so long as he doesn't try to scare them abt it #kind of difficult to ask these children straightforwardly to just not say anything to anyone once they know you're here but #they probably don't wanna go exploring back down there again. did that. just don't haunt the plays or seem like you'll kill them #and like who knows maybe a lot of ghosts w/goals hanging around & they're generally Just Ppl in gb situations thusly #your new friend even if they're really more Mortal than you for the temporariness of it all; ideally #given that they Do have some goal to fulfill & then they'll peace out a ways. really hardly the worst gb style of situation to be in #it's the drama & mystery & theatrics....& the fun of like layers of genre awareness lol. you like horror & you know you're kinda in A Story #the play; the play having a mystery history & possible curse; school's haunted; someone's sabotaging you; fake janitor; suspicious behavior #and a couple of protagonists who are liable to go looking for some degree of trouble for the fun of it.... #anyways what a setup. lot going on lol. lot that Did go on. including the show; congratulations to everyone just about

[luveline]

Jade!!! I’m so in awe of how you write Steve, like you capture his character so well! I was thinking about if the reader had also been dragged into the mess that is saving Hawkins and, as a result, has also unofficially been anointed a baby sitter - Steve would be all heart eyes seeing how well you get on with the kids and just how much you care for them (and how much they care for you)

thank you! Steve and you having a quiet moment between all the hubbub and just loving each other and being proud of each other for how you take care of the kids (word count: 1k) fluff and softie steve 🥺 ST4 EP 4 SPOILERS AHEAD

You try not to be too obvious about what you're doing as you stare across the room at Steve. He's sitting with his back pressed against the chair Dustin's currently slumped in, eyes blinking slowly as he attempts to stay awake. 

You're opposite on the sofa between Max and Lucas, Max finally asleep. Her face is pressed into your arm. She might be drooling. You decide that this is more than allowed considering what she's just been though. 

Lucas is still awake. Still worried. 

"I don't know…" he confesses quietly, almost too quiet to hear despite the room's silence, "what I would have done. If something happened." 

If Vecna got her, he doesn't say. 

You brush your knuckles against the back of Max's hand as you twist, giving him what you hope is a soft, reassuring smile. 

"Nothing happened, and nothing is gonna happen. We're gonna work this out. She's safe, Lucas. I promise," you whisper, putting on an exasperated tone. You're not sure how truthful you're being but you believe vehemently that everyone's gonna be okay. You have to.

You don't know him very well, any of them, only through Steve. They love Steve and seem to like you, and despite a big risk of going too far and overstepping, you really want to reassure Lucas.

These kids are so young, they don't realise how young they are. Growing up is traumatic enough without the constant threat of an evil power, and it shows on all their tired faces that they're stressed beyond words. 

Lucas sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, reminding you of Steve. You look to him, find your brown eyed boy watching you with an earnest, fond smile stretched over his lips. 

"Steve and I," you say, a little firmer, "we won't let anything happen to Max… or to you." 

"I'm a great fucking babysitter," Steve agrees, voice rough with fatigue. "And so is Y/N. That's double the protection, Sinclair." 

"Exactly. We've got a basement full of dorks who, including yourself, are smart and brave enough to get through this." 

Lucas starts to get that look on his face despite his overall maturity that you recognise as embarrassment; too much heart to heart for a teenage boy right now. You dial it down. 

"And to do that you need to sleep. Get some rest, gather your strength. The campaign isn't over," you say. Both Steve and Lucas snort at your cheesy joke. 

Lucas settles down and eventually falls asleep after you make a big show of not feeling tired. "I got it," you whisper. "I'll be on Max watch." 

Now, with all the babies asleep including the academics who basically saved the day, it's only you and Steve. 

"Are you okay?" you whisper. 

"Baby, I should be asking you that. I've been through this whole shtick three times already."

"Don't you think that's worse?" You can't imagine how scared he is. 

Steve straightens up with an awful groan and sets a dead stare at you that withers your bravery almost too fast. "I'm fine. I am," you say, words riddled with a scratching weakness, like your voice might break. "I'm okay." 

Steve gets up. You lift your head as he walks towards you, careful not to make too much noise. His hands are soft and very, very careful as he bends at the waist and takes your face into them, like he's assessing you.

His thumbs aligned at your jaw and his fingers cupping the underside, Steve dips his head towards his chin. "It's okay if you're scared. This is ridiculously terrifying," he says seriously. Then, less so. "Not that I'm scared. Shit's getting kind of old for me, if you know what I mean," he says, rolling his eyes. 

You laugh and shake your head, eyes closing. "Don't make me laugh, I don't want to wake up the kids," you whisper. 

His bravado softens. "You're good with them," he says, hands smoothing down the column of your throat, over your shoulders and up again, massaging you with a light pressure. "Really good." 

"I'm just following your lead," you murmur. 

He smirks. "Yeah," he says, leaning in, the heat of his lips fanning over your own, "I must set a good example, 'cos you're amazing." 

He kisses you, a soft, chaste peck that eases some of the tension you're holding, his smile pressed to yours. 

His fingers flex around your neck. 

"Are you really okay?" he asks as he pulls away.

You don't have to think about it.

"I'm good, Steve." 

"Yeah, you are." 

He leans down to give you a hug, an awkward struggle because of your position and the bodies you're acting as a pillow for. You can only use one arm when you hug him back, the other sandwiched under Max's shoulders, but it's a pretty good hug, all things considered. 

"You wanna sleep in my lap?" you joke into his neck. 

"Don't tempt me. I miss you," he says. Your arm tightens where you're wrapped behind his neck, crushing his perfect hair. 

"I miss you too." 

And you do. Taking care of the kids, trying to stop whatever it is that's happening from happening, you'd never not try your hardest but you can't wait for this to be over. To fall asleep next to Steve, and to not worry that it'll be the last time you see him when you close your eyes. 

You're on Max watch, but you're on Steve watch too. 

Steve pats your face gently, just once, and goes back to play guard dog at Dustin's side, though he lies on his back.

Max mumbles something in her sleep. You turn to her, your heart racing at the idea that she's having a Vecna related nightmare. You're tentative as you rub her jacketed arm, hoping to soothe her through it. 

"Poor kids," you murmur. 

"They have you and me," Steve says quietly. "They're gonna be fine." 

"Go to sleep, Harrington," you say, not bothering to turn to him. 

"They're gonna be fine," he repeats, sounding both amused and affectionate at your worrying. 

"I know. Now go to sleep, idiot." 

"Wake me up when you're tired." 

"Yeah, whatever you want."

"Wake me up when you're-" he starts again, in a tone usually reserved for the kids when they aren't listening.

"Alright, Steve. I will," you say, laughing under your breath. "Control freak." 

"What did you say?" 

"Nothing." 

"Yeah. S'what I thought." His scathing tone is dampened by the sleepiness. Your chest fills with warm affection.

#stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things spoilers #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #spoilers stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve and max my beloveds #steve x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble

[malk1ns]

A prompt if this sings to you... established relationship mid-30s sidgeno taking in a rookie to live with them? Maybe a Russian? Maybe not! Maybe it's ABO and the baby alpha is overwhelmed by milfy Sid/baby omega is overwhelmed by dilfy Geno? Maybe not! IDK I just want to see an awkward 18 year old being completely rabbit in the headlights witnessing these two icons and heroes being dorky and frisky and middle-aged at home.

Ooooh I love this!

This isn't my best work, but I haven't written in ages and I'm rusty, so—you get what you get, haha. But this is such a fun concept and I had a lot of fun thinking about it!!! That's part of why it's so disjointed I think, I had so many ideas about how this could look and what it could involve and I wanted to cram everything in. Maybe I'll revisit this when I can actually properly use the English language again and clean it up!

--

Mack doesn't get a choice about where he lives his rookie year.

Not a lot of guys do, really—if they're bouncing between the A and the big club, they get real familiar with a few specific hotels, and if they make the show right away the team usually encourages them to look for something in a particular neighborhood—but Mack, after the excitement of the draft was over and the contract negotiations began in earnest, didn't even get that much leeway.

He's a first overall pick. He's an omega. He was drafted by the Pittsburgh Penguins. Of course he'll be living with Sidney Crosby and his mate.

Crosby—call me Sid he'd said, backstage after Mack stumbled his way onstage and held up his jersey and smiled so hard his face hurt—sends him and his parents an email in late summer, offering up a suite in his house in one of Pittsburgh's suburbs. He'll have a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living area to himself, along with a small fridge, and Sid says he'll help Mack get a car, too, if he doesn't already have one.

Mack's agent is copied on the email, along with four names from the Penguins organization that Mack doesn't recognize. It's not really an offer, after all.

Mack's parents are overjoyed. They're both betas, and when Mack presented his mom had practically lost her mind trying to figure out how to parent him appropriately, and they'd both been desperately worried about him living on his own. As if that had been an option; every interview at the combine included some discussion about where he'd stay, and it seemed like every team had a plan, no input from Mack required.

His dad's more focused on what he'll get out of living with Hall of Famers. "Watch how they spend their time off," he says to Mack as they're standing at Pittsburgh International. They'd all driven down in Mack's new car together, and spent the last two days getting him settled in and seeing the sights, and now his parents are flying back to Vancouver. "You're never going to have a better example than Malkin and Crosby. Pay attention to them, and you'll be fine."

Mack's not sure that this is quite what his parents had in mind.

Sid's amazing, of course. He knows what it's like to be an omega in the league—for all there are more now than when Sid was drafted, they're still an extreme minority, and going first overall, over all the alphas eligible, has only happened twice. Well, three times now. He walks Mack through the accommodations at the rink, connects him with the dynamics counselors and heat coordinators, and he spends a lot of time just listening to Mack, sharing his own experiences and talking him through his panic and nerves. Mack's lucky, and all the guys from BU are jealous as hell, constantly blowing up the GC with questions that Mack's not gonna answer in a million years.

Geno, though?

Mack's been around alphas his whole life. Sports at a higher level are riddled with them, obviously, and omegas aren't cloistered away anymore—he's not required to cross the street if he approaches an alpha, and North America has been totally integrated for decades.

There's getting in board battles with alphas his own age, though, or interacting with random people out in the world, and living with an alpha in his 30s, in the space he's marked as his.

Geno's not nervous around him. Which, obviously, why would he be, but Mack's used to the guys his age being a little on edge, a little anxious, a little fumbling in the presence of Mack's pheromones. Geno's a whole-ass adult, though, and he's been mated to Sid for as long as Mack can remember, so of course he wouldn't give a shit about some 18-year-old kid.

The whole house smells like Geno, a mix of coconut and snow and citrus. It's comforting; Mack's never slept so well in his life, and it just feels safe, knowing that there's an alpha around all the time. Sid's left his mark too, of course, but there's no escaping that an alpha lives in this house, an alpha who's strong, and confident, and sure of himself.

It takes Mack two whole weeks before he can talk to Geno without turning bright red and stuttering. He'd feel more embarrassed by his behavior, the way he reacts to Geno's scent, if he thought Geno noticed for one single second.

Because the thing is, what Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin seem to spend most of their off-hours doing is...each other.

Mack's never walked in on them—they're too thoughtful, and he's seen the way Geno stares down other alphas who look a little too closely at Sid, he's not interested in anyone seeing Sid that way—but he can smell them, all over the house. Geno's got a hand on Sid constantly; at his waist as they move around each other in the kitchen, on his legs when they sit on the couch, cupping the bond-bite on Sid's neck when they think they're alone. He smells like he wants Sid all the time.

And Sid absolutely reciprocates.

Mack can't blame him. If he had an alpha like that— He doesn't let himself go too far down that path, because he has to live with them, and he's too young anyway, he wants to focus on his career for a while, but there's something about how happy Sid looks, the way he teases Geno until they're both pink and smiling, the way he gets this look in his eye when he watches Geno putter around in the kitchen, that makes something in Mack's gut twinge with longing. He wants this, someday—a mate, a home, someone who makes him that happy.

He just wishes they'd do a bit more to hide when they're going off to fuck, though. Mack's cycle is still irregular, and being this close to a mated pair who are having sex practically every night—Mack is shocked they can still do it that much at their age—is gonna push him into early heat one of these days, and then he'll have to ask for a ride to the facilities, and Geno will know, Geno will smell it on him, and they'll both be so nice and understanding and go out of their way to assure him it's normal and make sure he has what he needs, and it will just be the worst, most mortifying thing that's ever happened to him.

Anyway, yeah. Mack's pretty sure his dad had something else in mind, when he was talking about what Mack could pick up from living with Crosby and Malkin.

It's going to be a long year.

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #a/b/o #my fic #my writing #macklin celebrini YOU are a pittsburgh penguin #rookie houseguest

[heliads]

Hey! I love your writing sm

could you pls do an f1 soulmate au with charles x carlos?

maybe whatever a person writes on themselves shows up on their soulmate so they write each other cute 'good luck' notes or jokes before races and maybe they realize they're soulmates when one of them gets a podium and the other person sees their drawings :)

i understand that you wanted this to be cute. however have you considered that they could be insane instead. have you considered that there could be mind games, bestie. think about the mental warfare (i am)

masterlist

Carlos Sainz believes that his secrets come out the fastest when he’s drinking. Doesn’t even have to be alcohol, his favorite ruiner of silence– he’s let out contract details and personal opinions just as freely with isotonic water after a race as with a shot someone hands him two hours into a post-race celebration. It’s easy to let your guard down when you think you’re with a friend, when the stakes don’t seem high, when he knows better but doesn’t want to admit it.

That’s why he feels a rippling wave of panic when he sees Charles walking across the Ferrari hospitality, two cups of coffee in his hands. Charles sits down at an empty table for two, places one cup in front of himself and one at the empty chair, and looks pointedly at Carlos. Carlos thinks to himself, this can’t be good, and mentally reminds himself to book an appointment with PR sooner rather than later.

He takes the seat. Some things, you can’t fight. Charles still smiles anyway, pleased, and says, “I got you coffee.”

Carlos had noticed this, surprisingly. It was difficult to ignore. “You’re being nice,” he remarks, blowing into the hole on the lid to cool down the liquid inside.

“I am nice,” Charles protests. His accent comes out more when he’s unhappy, it makes the syllables bunch up together like pleats of fabric.

Carlos arches a brow, and takes a sip of his coffee instead of answering. Scuderia Ferrari loves to claim that they adore the art of coffee just as much as their mother country, but every time Carlos gets coffee from hospitality it’s either flavorless or burnt, depending on who serves it. Charles’ attempt isn’t terrible, but he doubts Charles did anything more to prepare it than just put in an order. It’s a nice gesture, though. Just like Charles said.

When he looks up and the steam properly clears from his vision, Charles is still pouting at him. Carlos shakes his head, smiling to himself. He makes it so easy sometimes, to mess with his head. It’s kind of fun. Poker, but with a far prettier deck of cards. 

“Alright, fine,” he relents, grinning so Charles knows he’s in on the joke, “I’m just teasing. No need to get mad, cabrón.”

“I’m not mad,” Charles says, a hint of a smile on his face although he stubbornly tries to shake it, “just interested in defending my honor.”

“Your honor?” Carlos asks, laughing in earnest. “So lord-esque, that is what I have been telling you. Of course Lord Perceval would defend his honor.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “You can deal with my honor, mate. I got you coffee.”

“And I am grateful for it every time you bring it up,” Carlos says, and takes a sip to prove it.

Charles does the same, but his eyes remain on Carlos the whole time. “So? Is it true what they’re saying?”

Carlos wants more than coffee for a conversation that starts out like this. “Who’s saying what?”

Charles gestures vaguely towards his phone. “Everybody. They say you’re going to leave Ferrari when your contract expires.”

Ah. That. “People love rumors,” he says absentmindedly, “I never thought you’d pay attention to them.”

“I don’t usually, but I was interested in this one,” Charles admits. “You’d tell me if you were leaving, right?”

“I’m not leaving,” Carlos says.

Charles sets down his cup. “But you’d tell me, right?”

“I would,” Carlos says. Pauses. Starts again. “What’s gotten into you, man? I never took you for someone to fall for theories like this.”

Charles shakes his head a little too quickly. “I’m not. They just seemed to believe it.” 

Carlos shrugs. “They believe a lot. My contract doesn’t expire until next year. They won’t worry about me for a while.”

“Should I?” Charles asks. “Worry about you, I mean.”

Carlos looks at him, really looks at him. The tense grip of his teammate’s hands around his coffee, even despite the heat still emanating through the cup. The furtive glances he keeps sneaking towards Carlos, then abruptly looking at the cup again when he gets caught.

“I’m not going,” Carlos says gently. More gently than he’d answer any interviewer, anyway.

Charles nods quickly, his head bobbing like a doll on a string. “Of course. Besides, I have too much interest for you to leave yet. Not until we figure out your, ah–” A pause. Delicate, but not at all from a polite inclination, no matter how it might seem to any outsider.

Carlos groans, exasperated. “My soulmate? My God, Charles, you have to give this up at some point.”

If it were not enough to have an overly inquisitive teammate, one that’s rather good at using his eyes and smile to get what he wanted, Carlos has been cursed with a racing partner that’s unnaturally interested in his missing other half. Carlos himself wants to figure out who his soulmate is, obviously, but at this point he thinks Charles is even more invested.

They all have soulmates. Supposedly. There’s probably at least a couple people out there who skipped that universal drawing of lots, but Carlos knows for certain that he is not one of them because his soulmate contacts him almost every day. Some people go weeks or even months without finding so much as a scribble appearing out of thin air on their skin, but Carlos blinks and there’s a new sentence on his forearm, bruising his knuckles, curling around his ankle. Whoever his soulmate is, they don’t care much for being ignored.

Neither does his teammate. Charles huffs out an exasperated breath. “If you will not be curious, I will be curious for you. You’re always so cagey about it, anyway. I know they write to you. Don’t you want to know?”

“Of course I want to know who they are,” Carlos scoffs. “What I don’t get is why you want to know. Why don’t you focus on your own other half for a change?”

Charles just leans back in his chair, grinning coolly. Ah, yes. Carlos has suspected for some time that Charles already has an idea as to who his soulmate is, but for some reason Carlos has never seen her around the paddock. It could be that Charles is just keeping their relationship private, but he doubts it. Charles likes his trophies visible and his games extensive. More likely than not, Charles has his soulmate engaged in some kind of cat-and-mouse game so they figure it out without too much help on his end. It’s hellishly manipulative, but he’s charming enough that they all let it slide.

Even Carlos, although he at least tries to put up a fight. Sometimes, he thinks Charles is amusingly aware of that, and doubles down on his efforts to get Carlos to cave until both of them are locked in some sort of affectionate stalemate.

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Charles hums, pleased that he’s got the other hand. “I mean,” he says, leaning forward abruptly to seize Carlos’ hand in his own, “Don’t you want to know about yours? Aren’t you curious?”

Whoever sat at their table before them left a Sharpie behind by accident; Charles picks it up now, uncapping it with the same hand without letting go of Carlos. “You could just ask them right now, who they are,” Charles muses. The tip of the Sharpie hovers millimeters above the curve of Carlos’ palm, waiting. 

Carlos stares at the black ink. It’s easier to focus on the skin when he mumbles, “They wouldn’t answer.”

You’re not supposed to. Unspoken rules. He’s never liked that sort of thing, and neither has Charles, who knows this and smiles unkindly anyway. “You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” Carlos asks, mostly to himself. Charles doesn’t appear to hear him. The Sharpie dips lower until it touches Carlos’ skin. Immediately, the black ink flowers into his palm. Carlos waits for Charles to keep writing, to scrawl a question like who are you or can I fly you to a Grand Prix paddock, asap but instead Charles flinches, slams the palm of his own hand down towards the table, and covers up the pen again.

“Maybe you should do it yourself,” Charles mutters by way of explanation.

“Maybe,” Carlos says. He’s not sure if he’s agreeing or not. It would be easier, he thinks, to have Charles take the wheel again. It would also hurt more. Carlos caps the pen when it becomes obvious that Charles will not. “Drink your coffee,” he says. “It’ll get cold.”

Charles does as told, which is sort of surprising. Usually, he likes pushing the envelope until someone tells him to quit it. It appears to Carlos, though, that they have reached an unspoken limit, a line drawn out in black Sharpie on tanned skin that will not be crossed again.

A few minutes pass. They’re both quiet. Charles whispers into the condensation of his cup, “You’re not leaving, though, right?”

Carlos smiles. “I’m not.” Contracts change, obviously, but he’ll try to fight it. They all try.

They leave not long afterwards, race week means that they don’t have a lot of time to sit around. There’s always something to be filmed for media duties, an interview to conduct, checks to run through with engineers. Still, Carlos is somehow calmer than he was before, even despite the additional caffeine.

Charles, by contrast, seems jumpier than usual as they head towards the exit.

“Did you enjoy your coffee?” Carlos asks pointedly. 

 Charles glances quickly over both shoulders, then groans when he’s sure that no one can overhear him. “No, God. It’s terrible.”

Carlos chuckles. “But you went to so much trouble to get it. Surely you can pretend it’s more than just terrible. You drank, like, all of it.”

Charles gives him an appraising look. “It’s better with someone else.”

It occurs to Carlos, as he walks back to his driver’s room, that they may not just have been talking about coffee after all. He’s stopped by one of his PR advisors on the way back– apparently there’s a new TikTok trend that would be just great for him to do– and although he doesn’t feel that shaken, he must look it, because they only get halfway through a discussion of trending sounds before the agent asks if everything is alright.

Carlos scoffs. “Of course I’m alright.”

The agent arches a brow. “Are you sure? You look a little unsettled. Don’t tell me you were talking to George about track times again, he has that effect on everyone before qualis.”

Carlos shakes his head. “No, I didn’t see him. I was speaking with Charles, though, about nothing in particular. Just coffee and soulmates and stuff.” Unable to stop himself, he leans a little closer, drops his voice until it’s more of a whisper. “He’s found his soulmate, hasn’t he? She’s got to be around here somewhere.”

His PR agent, surprisingly, shakes their head. “No, he’s said nothing about it to us, and we’ve asked loads of times. Are you certain that they’re a she, though? That wasn’t the impression I got.”

Carlos stands utterly still. He thinks his blood may have cooled in his veins, congealing into a solid. He is not sure he could move if he tried. “Charles told you that?”

“Once,” the agent says offhandedly. “He got sick of us asking about his mystery woman. I don’t think he meant to let it slip, but you know how he is with secrets.”

They’re laughing at that. Carlos tries to chuckle along with him, but he can’t really do more than nod, because now he’s thinking about Charles’ soulmate being a man. It’s the driver in him, he supposes, the dreamer, that if he can imagine any scenario he would also imagine himself in it, and so it follows that now Carlos cannot stop thinking about the man on the other side of Charles’ heart being him, being Carlos. The picture fits a little too well. 

Carlos had never pictured his soulmate and thought of a man, but sometimes he’ll be up on the podium with Charles, champagne high and bright in the air, and he thinks maybe– maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing, not having a girl like that. He already knows what it’s like, anyway, to be at the top of the world and have another man standing there with him. If God did not intend for us to be with someone of the same sex, then why would He make it feel so natural?

Carlos somehow manages to end the conversation, to slip back into the relative safety of his driver’s room and lean his entire body weight against the door. He stares up at the ceiling, hands fisting the red fabric of his Ferrari jacket at his sides, and he lets himself, for the first time, wonder if his soulmate might not be a man as well. Anything Charles can do, Carlos can too, or so the commentators have started to say. Anyone Charles could love, Carlos could too. Anything his would be theirs. 

It is a risky thought. Pessimists will tell you that soulmates are good for nothing but getting your hopes up. Carlos does not know who his soulmate is nor, odds are, will he ever. It does no good to think about what he wants until he already has it. 

Later that day, Carlos tells his soulmate in non-descript block letters, All things must end. He caps the pen and covers his hand for the rest of the day. He sees Charles some hours later, looking pale and frightened. Carlos cannot, will not, imagine why.

He tries to push it from his mind. They are not hiding in Ferrari hospitality for the thrill of it, after all, but to prepare for the race ahead. Qualifying comes and goes, nothing to write home about but at least they should be decently in the points. One of them might be able to make it to a podium if they can give Lando Norris the slip. The best case scenario is that Checo will bin it so they could get a 1-2, but who knows if they’ll have any semblance of luck today.

Carlos qualified one position ahead of Charles. Fred Vasseur is already starting to eye him like a lamb to the slaughter, and Carlos makes a mental reminder to continually ask his engineer for Charles’ times during the race. He has a feeling that team orders might be given.

Strangely enough, it doesn’t make Carlos angry towards Charles as much as he thinks it should. He is irritated by Ferrari, of course, for picking one driver over another, but that’s expected in any given scenario in which the cars are swapped. Usually, though, that sort of thing happens enough times that you start directing your ire towards the other driver, but Carlos cannot manage that. In fact, he never has. Hating Charles is unthinkable. It would be easier to hate himself. Right?

Getting ready in his driver’s room before the race that Sunday, Carlos is struck by a sudden, unthinkable idea. He rummages around in his belongings for a while before coming up with a pen. Dark, thick, the kind you use for autographs when the hapless fan forgets to bring a writing implement of their own. Carlos uncaps it, stares at his skin, then starts to scribble. Words, underlined, circled. Do well. Good luck. Please.

He doesn’t know if– but he could, maybe, if he saw. Carlos loses himself in a frenzy, then snaps out of it just as quickly when his palms get covered in writing. The sound of footsteps outside his door makes him flinch, and he tugs on his gloves as fast as he can, smearing the ink even more than before. It doesn’t matter. Odds are nothing will come of this anyway.

The race goes as expected. Checo does not crash, much to the chagrin of all other teams, and Carlos gets stuck behind him long enough that they start talking about switching him with Charles, which happens around lap forty. When the checkered flag waves, Charles is third, Carlos fourth. He parks quickly and hurries over to the front. By the time he gets there, Charles has already withdrawn inside the cooldown room but Carlos can shoulder in with the other Ferrari crew and shout and slap each other on the back and that’s good, too, it really is.

He will tell himself that it is. Carlos, by now, has gone to a lot of teams and learned about a lot of strategy choices. He knows how to convince himself that something is fine, that the decisions of the team are ones he agrees with. He can idle with the crew and stare up at the podium with a fixed smile on his face, because Carlos is a Good Teammate and Good Teammates show up for each other. They accept team orders when they come their way. They do not stand in the shade of someone else’s idol and think, this isn’t fair.

Of course it isn’t fair, it’s motorsport. Charles is the one they love the most, even when he’s erratic and crashes every other race. Charles is the pretty boy, the golden one, Il Predestinato. Carlos is merely his father’ son. 

Charles, who figured out the whole game of soulmates months before. He guessed, at least. Told that to Carlos one night, grinning, drunk, spiraling after another lost podium. Charles had waited with wide eyes and a frozen smile as if waiting for Carlos to put something together, but the other shoe never dropped and eventually the moment ended, both of them pulled apart by other friends, downing other drinks, pretending they never existed. 

Carlos thinks of it now. He watches Charles emerge from the shadows of the space behind the podium to stand in the blinding sunlight, waving down at all of them. One of the mechanics is elbowing him in the side, speaking in that low voice they all get when they do the boy’s club talk, you know, someone’s soulmate likes him well enough, obviously, and Carlos has no idea what he’s talking about until he looks up and sees. Sees Charles, his palms dark with ink. From up here, it’s too small to see what is written. The Catholic boy in him thinks stigmata which is wrong, obviously, because there is no great divine mystery here, not when Carlos knows what happened.

Not when Carlos was the one to write all of it earlier that day. He’d almost forgotten during the course of the race, but it all comes flooding back now. That’s his ink on Charles’ hands, and that means– That means Charles is his soulmate. Always has been. Always will be.

Carlos stares up at him. Charles looks down, and although he’s been grinning with victory this whole time, the smile that slides onto his face upon seeing his teammate is different than before, it’s knowing. Charles knows that Carlos has figured it out at last. He’s been waiting for him to do it all this time.

It’s almost obscene, how close Charles must have come to telling him about a thousand times. Who would risk it like that? No one. Charles would. Carlos pictures him with the Sharpie earlier that week, black tip poised above his skin. How he’d caught himself before giving himself up. Perfect timing, a driver’s reflexes. Like managing to right yourself right before sending your car into the wall. Or, better, like doing it anyway. Like accelerating before you go. Like leaving your hands on the wheel so your wrists can break, too, not just your heart. 

Yes, Charles would. Charles Leclerc would. Charles, so impatient for his first championship that he’d give up his current chance by overshooting every corner, by doing too much until he ends up in the wall time and time again. This is the man who would expose his soulmate like a throat to a knife, and Carlos has known this about him for years.

The Ferrari section of the paddock is insane after getting a podium, so no one notices when Carlos fights his way through the crowds to let himself into Charles’ driver’s room. It’s empty when he arrives, Charles must have many more people to get through, so he paces relentlessly back and forth until Charles shows up.

Charles bursts through the door, still talking to someone down the hall. His exuberance crashes to a halt the second he sees Carlos waiting, and he hurriedly tells whoever is there not to wait up. Charles carefully closes the door behind him, locks it too, and then it’s just the two of them and this great and all encompassing secret for company. 

Charles swallows. “You know.”

Of course he does. Friends show up at each other’s driver’s rooms all the time, but this isn’t just on the order of congratulations for a good race result. They would not be hovering on the edge of this great precipice if it was just that. 

“You knew earlier,” Carlos challenges. 

Charles ducks his head in a nod. “I did.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Carlos asks. 

Charles’ gaze is shifty, it flicks from ceiling to floor to walls, anywhere but Carlos himself. Charles has always been a daredevil for the risks, but he’s never had the stomach for what becomes of them. The consequences are always a thousand times worse than the actions. 

“I didn’t think you would want it. Want me,” he corrects, almost whispering. 

This is so absurd that Carlos almost wants to laugh. Almost, because the look on Charles’ face is so pitiful that he can’t even smile. “Why wouldn’t I?” Carlos asks. 

Charles blinks in surprise. “Because you were never even that interested in finding out who your soulmate was, mate. Always said it would just be some girl you didn’t know. I didn’t want to see your face when you realized you didn’t even get some girl but me.”

“I didn’t want to look too much into my soulmate because I was afraid it wouldn’t be you,” Carlos says in a rush, and as he admits it he knows it’s true. 

How could it be anything but that? Carlos could have picked any team, but he went here. A hardheaded (formerly red) bull chasing not just the scarlet flag but the matador himself. Charles, all along. 

Charles’ eyes are wide, lashes darker even than the ink still staining his palms. “So you’re not mad, then?” He asks cautiously. 

“Not mad and not leaving,” Carlos reiterates. 

A ghost of a smile flickers over Charles’ lips. “You cannot blame me for wanting to be sure, I didn’t want you to go until I managed to tell you.”

“You certainly took your time about it,” Carlos comments. 

Charles rolls his eyes. “Just because we are racers does not mean we have to do everything fast, Carlos. Be patient.”

Carlos arches a brow. “You are telling me that?”

Charles has the grace to look at least a little ashamed. “Yes. Well. I can be patient now.”

Of course he can. They both can. Most people spend their entire lives searching for the answer to a question that is no longer a mystery to either of them. Time is all they have, time and sweet-sticky champagne and the sensation of being at the top of the world. Nothing will change them. Everything will. For once, though, the change does not scare him. It’s not bad, all of the time. 

Sometimes, it brings him Charles. Sometimes, it brings him this. No, not bad in the slightest. 

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

also: @quill-of-a-sparrow

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#charlos #charlos imagines #charlos oneshot #charlos fanfic #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one oneshot #formula one fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc oneshot #carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz oneshot #c2 #c2 imagines #c2 oneshot #c2 fanfic #charles x carlos #carlos x charles #f1 charlos #soulmates au #f1 soulmates au

[stardustedknuckles]

It occurs to me to wonder, like. When is the last time a fandom was rewarded so much for loving something as hard as we love critical role? I don't necessarily mean rewarded as a transactional thing, though there's no denying that love translating to funding was a big part of this - I'm talking about stories that get told again in a new way so soon after ending and which the fans are grateful to have and eagerly looking forward to. We live in a world of unnecessary remakes of old IPs as thoughtless cash grabs, where smaller projects like roundtable stories are lucky to get comic versions and little more despite the authentic love powering them from creator and fandom alike.

The Mighty Nein were over. They ended, the way all stories do. We had no reason to think there would be more (aside from oneshots, which are another unique and sustaining feature of this medium) or that they would get the same opportunity that Vox Machina did because it is so rare. Unprecedented, really. There was every chance that CR would get one or two arcs animated for their first beloved story - still further than any project like this has gone before - and that would be all.

And instead their whole world has opened up. In the days of beloved shows being canceled left and right, the love and support Critical Role has cultivated among its fanbase just by being earnest and kind has ricocheted back into the world as so much opportunity and the stories that were over and done are getting new life. The Mighty Nein aren't over. They're coming back - and soon. When's the last time a fandom was unexpectedly given the chance to rise again and grow stronger instead of being suddenly cut short?

We couldn't have picked a better horse to bet on here, and this couldn't be happening to a better group of people. I hope Critical Role's success is a marker of things to come for the other, smaller projects of this sort - and I know the CR crew hopes the same.

#critical role #obligatory disclaimer that I know they're just people and not perfect and etc #this was still dependent on ratings and etc - I'm pleased and hopeful not naive #but damn #the mighty nein

[amuseoffyre]

Mulling once again on Ed and presentation and how he tends to keep certain emotions and things under wraps when he's presenting a specific way.

Most specifically I want to mention his leather as his armour and when he's in armour, he'll play Blackbeard, he'll joke around with the crew, he'll banter, he'll be chaotic, he'll be scary. He'll be loud and cheerful and chaotic and terrifying, depending on the situation.

But the instant he is upset or emotional about anything, his instinct is to hide himself, close himself away or cover himself so no one can see him. That aesthetic, that whole performative presentation can not be seen to be emotionally vulnerable.

30 years of living in the world of piracy and he knows he can't show his emotions because they'll be used against him. We see it when Jack shames him into leaving ("I saved your life man"), we see it when Izzy confronts him in 1x01 ("some namby pamby in a silk robe, pining for his boyfriend"), we see it again when Izzy tries to break through his kraken spiral ("your feelings for Stede fucking Bonnet"), we see it with Mary and Anne roasting him and Stede ("that was so fucking earnest").

Even when he's back with the crew and the ship in S2, he keeps his heart-eyes and his softer emotions for Stede for when they're alone together, keeping a careful distance so no one can read too much into it. Not when he's dressed like this. Not when he's looking like this. The wall very nearly came down on Calypso's birthday, when they were going to dance, but then Low happened and everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Ned came after them because of him, because Ed provoked him. No. Blackbeard provoked him. "It's me you want" he says. It is also such a big part of why he abandons the leathers the next day: he brought this down on them as Blackbeard. He doesn't want to see Stede hurt again, even says they should stay away from life-or-death situations.

He sees the Blackbeard vibe and look and persona as something that can only be destructive and awful, because - in his mind - it just keeps making things worse for him.

It's one of the reasons I love the leather reclamation so much.

For so many years, he's been forced to hide his emotions while wearing it, but it's was never about the clothes. The clothes were just a symbol. As I said earlier, it's his emotional armour and he never believed he could just... be himself without it.

In the fight with Stede in the republic, he says himself "I don't even know who I am". He's spent so long dividing up the way he presents himself that he's fragmented and disorientated. He threw his leathers overboard because he wants to be able to be loved, but doesn't feel he can be while that whole presentation and reputation is hanging over him.

But then we get to a point where he needs said armour - he's going into battle to fight for the man he loves and going dressed as a fisherman just ain't gonna cut it. He pulls it back on, he rises from the waves, but - and this is a sign of things changing - the second he arrives on the beach and finds that letter, the tangible reminder that he loved, his emotions are fully on display.

For the first time he is expressing himself without hiding away or covering himself up. He's finally understanding that he can be Edward no matter what he looks like on the surface. He can be himself without keeping the mask up, even when he has his armour on.

Admittedly, he is still hesitant about expressing himself fully. At the wedding, he only glances sidelong at Stede and even when they're standing on the porch of the inn, some part of him still expects Stede to leave. He even gives him a chance and excuse - "having second thoughts?" and uses metaphors about the inn to explain his uncertainties. But he's getting there. He's figuring out how to deal with his stuff and become more and more himself.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #ed teach #blackbeard

[forevermorous]

looking at gemini and fourth in both moonlight chicken and my school president, and how genuinely fantastic they are in these two vastly different productions, i'm just so so excited for them, and what lies ahead of them. all actors everywhere should be afraid. very afraid.

especially since in moonlight chicken, they're on screen next to earth and mix, who are powerhouses of chemistry and delivery, and first and khaotung, who are such marvelous, emotive actors, and even still gemini and fourth are truly holding up their own, and they're definitely making their presence felt.

and for my school president, the whole thing could so quickly become cringey and unbearable, but their acting and the direction have kept it earnest and comforting instead. plus, it's their first time leading a show, that too with a big, bright, talented cast, and they're living up to the task there too.

i don't know man, i'm so happy for these kids. i hope they have fun, and that they get good projects, and they achieve everything they want to. i'll be here cheering for them.

#my school president #msp #moonlight chicken #geminifourth #earthmix #firstkhao #firstkhaotung #gemini #fourth #earth #mix #first #khaotung #these boys are going places <3

[anarglitch]

Scott pilgrim takes off inhabits the same artistic space as the matrix 4, or even the final fantasy 7 remake. I mean this as a good thing. It has the distinct touch of an artist that made something that defined a generation revisiting the art that outgrew them a thousandfold with more maturity and different interests.

These interests usually skew meta, they're about what drives someone to revisit something made by a past version of oneself, about the experience of suddenly gaining more influence than anyone could reconcile, where criticisms of your work (which you also, no doubt, have many) become synonymous with criticisms of your culture. If you've been here a while, you probably know (and are tired of) what I'm talking about, manic pixie dream girls and aloof average male protagonists, toxic nostalgia, pick your theme and it's a video essay title.

Imagine having every read of your 2004 funny video game-coded coming of age comic reverberate infinitely toward every direction, people saying your main character taught a whole generation of men to be self-absorbed while the exact opposite type of people rant about how your secondary lead "ruined a whole generation of women" because of hair-dye or whatever. Imagine Edgar Wright makes a movie adaptation of your cute little comic that somehow launches the careers of half of the current celebrity pantheon simultaneously. How would that change you?

Well, for one, it makes you less relatable. The truth of an aloof nerdy guy dating in his early 20s is a lot more universal than the truth of an artist in his 40s forever defined by the event horizon of a thing he wrote half his life ago. The matrix 4 couldn't stop talking about how it feels to have created the matrix. The final fantasy 7 remake can't help but to constantly examine what it means to remake final fantasy 7. It's easy to see why someone would hate that indulgent meta trend, I'll probably never write a generation-defining story, why would I care about the first world problems of someone who did? It can feel distant, and at its worst it can feel insulting. Like it's pointing the finger at the fans, whispering 'you did this to me'. I get that.

I get that, but I love it.

It's the fundamental difference between wanting something that is like something you liked, and wanting someone that is from the same creator of something you liked. The difference between feeding the mona lisa into an AI and finding a new authentic da Vinci. You can't make something entirely new if you religiously stick to using the parts of something that's already there. The human behind the work will always have influences you didn't realize, thought patterns and aesthetic preferences that weren't entirely clear in their previous work, no matter how much you deconstruct it. More importantly, the human will also change, and this organic self-continuity will reflect on the art. I don't want the creator of something to hold their own creation with the same zeal as its fans, because someone who did that simply wouldn't have been capable of creating the original piece in the first place.

I don't want a product, I want art.

Scott pilgrim, the original, indulges the most earnest impulse we have-- that of self-mythologizing, of creating a narrative off of our own lives. To depict the mundane as fantastic, interpersonal relationships as adventures. It resonated with so many people because it was earnest, and it was also picked apart to hell and back because it was earnest. Its flaws were on display, and not just the ones it intended to show. But in my opinion, the opposite impulse, that of washing off everything that could be criticized and presenting the cleanest possible image of yourself through your art, is just... bad. it makes for bad art, or it just freezes you. The very first hurdle of creating anything is getting over that, then maybe the spotlight will fall on you. If it does, you'll get everything you ever wanted, but everyone gets to see through you.

So, how do you revisit something like that? You have two options. Either you take all the pieces and try to reassemble them exactly how everyone remembers it, signing your name as a formality, looking at a mirror in which you no longer see yourself, or you talk to it. You dialogue with your own work, with who you used to be. You travel in time and talk to yourself. You question them, acknowledge them but also teach them a thing or two. You don't respect the product, you respect the feeling. You find the same earnestness that made you put pen to paper for the first time, and you point it towards your new loves and fears. Maybe you make it less about the main guy, take the chance to develop your secondary characters, maybe you give the girl more agency. Maybe you summon the future and refuse its answers. Maybe you fight yourself.

That's the harder choice. It submits your new self to the scrutinizing eyes of a whole new generation, it risks alienating the people who identified with your previous piece. It's riskier, probably less profitable, and by any pragmatic lens probably a bad idea. But it's the only way you can make art. It's truth, the truth that got you there in the first place.

It's how you get it together.

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim takes off #review #bryan lee o'malley

[richardlawson]

The End

After a few years away from that particular couch, I started seeing a new therapist at the end of last year. It had been long enough, I sagely determined, after I was felled by a series of really nasty panic attacks—one happened while I was doing a Q&A on stage with some filmmakers. They didn't notice, nor did the audience, nor (most importantly) the publicists. But it was happening. Me contemplating running off stage, into the Soho afternoon. It was a terrible feeling, and eventually feeling terrible starts to be a drag, so I found, after a fair amount of searching, someone new.

He is in his late 50s and has a kind, open comportment. He's much more giving and lean-in-and-nod than my last therapist, a sort of prim and watchful gay guy who retired to Florida. I like this new gay guy, I think. Or, I am warming to him. At first, I thought his platitudes and constant quoting of various people were corny. But I have resisted such sentiment for so long, and lack of sentiment hasn't cured me, so maybe I should try the earnest stuff. He has me meditating for one minute a day. The panic attacks went away.

For a little while, anyway. They've been creeping back, when I least expect them, and when I most do. I am afraid of what I am afraid of, I hate what I hate, I feel increasingly indifferent to what I love. Winter hardens care. Do I like movies anymore? Do I like a play, seen on some chilly Saturday afternoon? Maybe it's just seasonal. Or it's media malaise in a time of such austerity. They're trying to lay off the best people while the worst people watch, safe as houses. They're trying to take the whole thing apart and replace it with nothing. I have worked in my business for 16 years, well over a third of my life, and for the first time it now feels truly dire and terminal and like I need to start making other plans for what to do with the rest of my time here in the waking, working world.

Something I talk about a lot with my therapist is inertia—I use the word constantly. Why can't I just, why can't I just, why can't I just. I know something's in me, latent under my lazy skin, but it never makes its way to the surface. At least not yet.

Which causes panic, this stasis. I am scared of the drugs that might help, and am resistant to other concrete life changes that might make this better. (I like a glass of wine too much; I'm a fan of my vape.) I have tried avoiding things, I have tried not avoiding things.

I guess it's not circumstance, really. I have panic attacks when I'm home at night, Andrew asleep in the other room, me watching some murder show or YouTube video (same thing) and suddenly a feeling hits me, the conviction that a blood clot or some other lurking thing is making its way up my body and that this is my sorry, lonely little nighttime end. Here it is, the moment when I'm carried off, when I disappear, when I slip away into nothing.

My parents just finished a cruise, a lifelong wish fulfilled, in South America, hooking around Cape Horn and then exploring the fjords and inlets of Chile. All the reports were good. They had the best time. I had worried about my mom itching for her work email, about my dad being newly 90 years old and maybe feeling exhausted by all the activity. But it seems they managed well. They saw Patagonian cities, they saw mountains rising out of the sea, they saw the shy, retreating edges of glaciers, so quiet and demure in their dying. My mom sent us pictures and I thought most about the glaciers, those last cracking murmurs of a time before. When I was in Alaska for a wedding, years ago now, we went to a park of some kind and the visitor's center that was once built over a glacier then stood cantilevered over dry land. The ice had crept much farther up the mountain, winking goodbye.

How awful. And yet, in the depths of my hypocrisy, I relish an unseasonably warm day. Whatever lifts me out of winter, I guess. Whatever can drag me out of the feeling that everything is indeed going to ruin—a career, a life, a liver, a future. My best friend moved out of my neighborhood recently, which is sad. But it also affords us the opportunity to explore new territory, to find backyard bars with good deals where we can huddle in forgiving late-winter winds and make uneasy escape plans, where we consider what parachutes could ever be made of.

It's not always enough, of course. I too often have nights, far too late, when I go pacing around the living room, circling the coffee table in a weird sort of marching step in my underwear, shaking my hands to get the dread to go away. My new therapist has urged me to find what centers me. To think of all that is known and steady.

I try to gather myself and remember the people I have, arrayed across the planet. Andrew, in restless sleep down the hall. My sister in her Los Angeles canyon, surrounded by trees. I walk the room, knees high and somehow defiant, chest straining with worry. And I see my parents, on a boat at the tip of the world, dreaming of lost things.

[whathorselegs]

When Kunikida realises he has feelings for Dazai he vehemently denies it. Not denial that he has the feelings themselves, but he simply refuses to indulge in them because it's inconvenient. Dazai's not an unattractive man and he has qualities Kunikida admires when he chooses to show them. So he understood how the feelings developed, but God, is he not what Kunikida was planning for.

Kunikida has a plan that he is determined to stick to. He has an ideal partner in mind, a set schedule for when he's going to meet them, date them, move in together, marry them, ect. Dazai does not fit into any of this.

So he ignores the feelings. Ignores the way his heart flutters whenever the other man is being his usual clingy self. The way he cant quite get angry at him anymore without a certain fondness creeping in. The moments where he realises he's stopped typing because he's been too busy watching Dazai and whatever shenanigans he's getting up to in the office. How distracting his laugh, hands, eyes and smile are.

He takes these feelings, boxes them up and waits for them to go away.

Problem is, they don't.

It only gets worse when Kunikida notices Dazai is flirting with him more and more as the days go on. And that he's getting bolder with his advances. Being pursued by chaos personified was certainly not in his plans. He shuts it down, ignores the flirting, rejecting Dazai in the most painless way he can, because Kunikida is still convinced Dazai isn't serious about any of it.

So Dazai switches from flirting to gifts. Though not they're not your typical idea of romantic tokens. It's bringing him snacks throughout the day, but he's already eaten half of it. It's a fancy "new" pen that he later finds out was swiped from Poe when he was visiting Ranpo. It's paperwork turned in on time, but there's so many mistakes and the writing is so unreadable that Kunikida almost wishes he'd just put the effort in and turned it in late. Its flowers with the roots still connected left on his desk that Dazai very clearly pulled up from garden somewhere.

All in all, Kunikida feels like he's been courted by a feral cat rather than a grown man.

Again he rejects Dazai. It's harder this time, as much as he hates it, the attention's working and Kunikida is slowly allowing himself to believe Dazai is serious about his feelings.

Eventually Dazai resorts to just asking Kunikida on a date. This time when Kunikida rejects him he instantly regrets it because of the earnest and quiet way Dazai just accepts it this time was almost too painful to witness. Kunikida goes home that night feeling awful, convinced he's ruined everything between them. He never expected Dazai to be hurt by any of this.

The next day, he almost didn't turn up to work, he spent a whole 2 minutes at his door debating on whether or not to leave. For the first time in- he didn't even know how long- he turned up to work late. He expected Dazai to not be there, but the whole office was empty.

Atsushi appears in the doorway of the meeting room. "Oh, thank God, he's really lost it this time Kunikida, you need to get in here."

For the next hour the entire Agency is subjected to a disheveled, running on too much caffeine, Dazai presenting them with a lengthy power point presentation of "All the reasons Kunikida should date me". They sat there staring at the walls, the table, the window, anywhere but the slow motion car wreck that was happening in front of them.

Well, everyone except Kunikida. Because, by his standards, this was the most romantic gesture anyone had made him.

If you ask Dazai how he and Kunikida got together, he will lie and lie and lie. Kunikida has the power point saved on a little black cat shaped memory stick and he'll show it you, proudly.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd kunikida #bsd dazai #kunikidazai #is that their ship name? I don't even know #my writing #Putting it under the cut because this one got long #and silly #Worst office romance in human history (affectionate)

[auncyen]

what are your thoughts on the group’s view (i think specifically mirabelle and bonnie mention this in their messed up friendship events) on siffrin being “so mysterious” and “always acting like they know better”? Cause it seemed like a small grievance they’ve had for a while that was (rightly) exacerbated by sif being a prick during those convos.

I'm going to be honest I don't remember Bonnie saying anything about Siffrin being mysterious (at least not as something they're mad about) so as far as I know this is a Mirabelle view only.

tbh I feel like why Mirabelle saw Siffrin like this pre-game was pretty well explained by an interaction in SASASA and I'm currently blanking on if it, or at least similar dialogue, got into ISAT. She says in it how she was disconcerted by them acting like they didn't care, not exactly in a mean way, but like going to fight the King was no more serious than doing laundry, and that after they lost their eye protecting one of them she realized they were earnest about the journey as well. I honestly don't remember if Mirabelle still has a dialogue like that in ISAT but ISAT definitely still has the elements for her to have had that perception, with Siffrin just being like "well everyone else has these great reasons for being here. me? I'm just here because I've got nothing else to do" and being so afraid of showing how attached they are to the others that they try asking everyone what they're going to do post-King but give a joking answer every time the question is turned back to him. Siffrin is not forthcoming about their emotions and has also been. perpetually traveling ever since the trauma, so I imagine they've never really had people close enough to tell them what kind of impression he makes until he joins the group, so no wonder Mirabelle ends up with a weird impression of him!

Odile is older and seems to have Siffrin somewhat figured out just because of experience (she tells him to try letting down his walls so she's got it right that it's more a defensive thing than acting superior) and Isabeau both has a great deal of emotional intelligence and just. seems to have clicked well with Siffrin off the bat in a way Mirabelle didn't because of simple differences in personality. Bonnie's mad at Siffrin already for their own reasons. As far as I'm aware the "Siffrin acts superior" thing is totally a Mirabelle perception but it makes sense in that like. while the party as a whole is pretty in touch with feelings, the party can't get EVERYTHING right emotionally or there wouldn't have been a game to begin with. This is just what happens to be the barrier of sorts between Mirabelle and Siffrin, because in the end, she wants to keep traveling with him too, so why didn't she just ask? Because she thought he'd be disinterested, because he's this cool, mysterious traveler with so much "experience", so worldly, and oh change she just had the entirely wrong idea what was going on inside that sleepy head of theirs.

I find it interesting you're asking me about this though because to me Mirabelle going off about this in act 5 was honestly kind of a bummer about the Mirabelle & Siffrin friendship for me on my first playthrough. (This is all going under a cut because it's tangential.)

Especially after act 4 dialogue makes it clear she still remembers Siffrin saying they're the happiest they've ever been on this journey, after having lost their eye to protect Bonnie, and that she takes his answer seriously, it was a little 'wait, how can she doubt so quickly that Siffrin cares?' And I still wonder if maybe I'd like the act 5 Mirabelle scene more if Siffrin was deliberately being callous like he is with Odile and Isabeau rather than accidentally saying the wrong thing. (I mean he is being a prick in that he's trying to rush an emotional conversation, it's not the nicest thing to do. But he wasn't trying to insult her and as soon as he realizes he's upset her he tries to explain that he said it wrong, but she cuts him off.) But in the end:

act 4 Mirabelle remembers that conversation so act 5 Mirabelle should too, but act 4 Mirabelle also says that after having the bonding experience of trawling the final dungeon, eating snacks together, and kicking the King's crabbing butt. (and it may or may not be family run dependent too if she says it? I forget. I usually did family runs once available even if they were the cheaty speed ones.) act 5 Mirabelle didn't get to have those moments.

act 5 Mirabelle has also been hearing from the villagers that Siffrin's acting weird in ways that confirm the "acting mysterious and like they know better" characterization. They're actually just slowly burning their last brain cell but you know. when they won't admit it. how is she supposed to know.

act 5 Mirabelle has also had a friend say something super upsetting to her that is pretty 'why would you say that', 'was I totally wrong about our friendship', she pretty much says right in the dialogue that she'd decided on more innocent explanations for Siffrin's quirks that initially rubbed her wrong (like the teasing! She probably didn't like that at first and probably had to convince herself that they were just one of the people that bonded by teasing, not teasing to be mean) but yeah with her hearing from villagers that Siffrin's acting in this way and him saying such a cruel thing to her seemingly unprovoked it makes sense that when all the little things about Siffrin get tossed up in her head, they, for the moment, land on "they're a jerk".

and in the end she goes after them, is the one to unfreeze them (not like anyone else could have done it, but still) she DOES see him as a friend. She's just. still reserving the right to be mad about what he said. Which considering what was said and that they said it because they were trying to rush through a conversation important to her, y'know, FAIR.

...Anyway I had to get that out. again. TANGENTIAL.

#Mirabelle #siffrin #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #I'M SORRY ANON??? I HOPE IN RAMBLING I ANSWERED ENOUGH LOL

[thatgirl4815]

One thing that strikes me about Ray/Sand vs Ray/Mew is that for the life of me I just can't picture the Ray who jumps on Sand and sticks his smelly pits in his face, the Ray who is cheeky and playful and a bit goofy, doing those things or acting that way with Mew. And I don't even mean within the context of any romantic relationship - I find it really hard to imagine their friendship having any such similar moments, where they're just two boys being a bit daft. With Sand Ray can be flirty, sensual, fierce, but he can also be silly, petulant, carefree (whilst sober). I just can't see him exhibiting that duality in his relationship with Mew. In their scenes previous to The Dance of Doom, he's usually been quite serious, heavy, earnest - weighed down, whether by Mew's expectations or his own feelings I don't know (likely both). He just seems so much lighter when he's with Sand (and they're apart from everyone else). I'm not saying it's Mew's fault - maybe it's a result of the pedestal he occupies in Ray's mind, but I just thought it was interesting. Ray often seems like an entirely different person when he's with Sand. And I think that's why those of us rooting for a (healthy) endgame are so invested, because in those interactions we see the person Ray COULD be, and it's pretty clear it's Sand that brings out that potential. Again, not saying he doesn't also require a shitload of soul-searching and professional help, but how could you NOT want him to reach that potential? And I'm almost certain the showrunners would agree. Now that doesn't necessarily mean the only way to get there is a Sand/Ray happy ending or that Sand owes it to Ray to put up with his bullshit in the meantime, but I think Sand wants that for Ray too and I don't think that makes him pathetic. I think Sand is pretty good at spotting when Ray's behaviour is that of someone in crisis vs being a brat/careless. It's probably why he requires an apology for Ray dropping him at the end of ep 3 but not for the insults at the end of ep 6 (well that and the whole near death experience!). No, Sand is under no obligation to keep loving/caring for Ray at his worst, but if he CHOOSES to do so because he's seen him at his best and because he knows the pain that lies beneath it all, well then actually that's something quite remarkable. Not romantic, mind you - remarkable. I'm not romanticising anything. But to me that shows a strength of character and a depth of compassion that's worthy of respect.

Great observations! I also can't really see a teasing, light-hearted RayMew relationship (at least, not when they're both sober), mostly because we haven't seen that dynamic much at all between them as friends. The thing that makes friends-to-lovers plots so successful is the chemistry between friends conjoined with romantic chemistry. And I don't get much of either of those between them (possibly because the vast majority of scenes between Ray and Mew only are about Ray's alcohol/drug problems).

A lot of this goes back to what you said about Ray putting Mew on a pedestal. It's always felt like Mew is in a superior position while Ray is only pining after him. With Ray and Sand, we see Sand acknowledge the dangers of Ray's behavior, but it never comes across as domineering or self-righteous (reminds me of @bird-inacage's analysis here about how Sand and Mew react differently to Ray's addictions).

I definitely think Ray is a better version of himself with Sand. He's noticeably less drunk around him, he opens up about his past, he apologizes and speaks relatively openly about his feelings, he makes an effort to invest in Sand's interests...the list goes on. Those are all signs of a healthy relationship built on mutual interests. For Ray and Mew, I think it's fair to say there are other motivations beyond romantic feelings.

I also admire Sand's depth of compassion. As you said, he is under no obligation to keep coming back to Ray and caring for him the way he does, but the fact that he is doing that despite knowing that he deserves better says a lot about his values. When he cares for someone, he cares for them deeply, despite the pain they might inflict upon him. For someone like Sand who seems so headstrong in other areas of his life, there's something endearing about how soft he is for Ray.

#great thoughts I agree with every one of them #only friends #only friends the series #ask #only friends ask #raysand #sandray #raysan #sand x ray #ray x sand #raymew #only friends meta #only friends analysis #only friends episode 7 #ofts

[neonscandal]

"Sure. So for Geto it's mostly that I don't like villains with a bigoted ideology and he's too incompetent to even fall in the "love to hate" category. Really, the worst thing a villain can be is incompetent and Geto in Vol 0 is barely better than your average disney villain. Doesn't help that he never gets pushback on his ideals. Gojo tells him in Premature Death that killing people is bad, but that's it. He spouts his bullshit about how genocide is totally necessary and Yuuta stands there like "idk you might be right, but you want to kill people I care about and that's the real crime here". Nobody really engages with his ideology except Yuki I guess, but that was before he became an antagonist. I could forgive that to a degree if he was at least a real threat, but he isn't. You don't get any of that with Geto, he's not even fun to hate because he barely provides any pushback. He's a bad villain and I dislike him as a person as well. His descent into embracing the superiority of sorcerers and resolving to kill all non-sorcerers was well written, but I don't feel for him at all. Good riddance to the guy, I'm glad he's now dead both in body and mind."

I was so sad, when reading this, what do you think?

When previously asked about JJK Antagonists I didn't mention Geto even though... he is my favorite.

It should also be said that, in terms of scary movies, I love a good creature feature or a deluge into the supernatural but, the scariest movies to me? Will always be the ones with human villains because they're far more plausible.

That summation of Geto is that person's opinion so I, personally, am unmoved by it. I've seen so many piss poor interpretations of Gojo and Geto's characterizations that it's honestly just best to let the story play out so people can retroactively come to some sort of understanding. Moreover, I think there are a lot of people who struggle to concede that, between Gojo and Geto, there was always love. Without that, you can't understand his spiral, you can't acknowledge the humanity of the villain. Moreover, to not understand Geto is to not understand Gojo. And.. since JJK seems to very much be a circular parallel between SatoSugu and ItaFushi, if you can't understand them you miss the whole story.

I'd be curious what villain doesn't have a bigoted and/or radical ideology, especially in shonen? They're meant to be horrible and hard to empathize with. Unless that person's tolerance for villainy is Oikawa from Haikyuu? Most stories hinge on the main character espousing a piece of whatever makes villains.. villains. RE: Yuji being a cursed vessel, Denji being a devil, Tanjiro's proximity to demons, Eren being a titan, Kaneki being a ghoul... I'd argue Naruto and Nine Tails but literally haven't seen the show at all to confidently compare.

Even so, let's get into Geto.

Gorgeous, gorgeous boy. So earnest, so upright... so forged to break.

I recently went on a tirade about SatoSugu which I won't rehash here because... then I'll feel inclined to add more and no one wants to see an adult woman cry today.

As a character, Geto attempts to be incredibly principled. Design wise, he is stylized with features that liken him to Buddha which I think he individually plays into as well to give himself some sort of identity. From his long hanging lobes signifying wisdom and compassion capable of hearing the cries of the suffering, to his gentle chastising of Gojo's flippancy. He believes that the strong should protect the weak while also keeping the strong in check. But... how would a jujutsu outsider come to such a noble ideal?

We know next to nothing about Geto's parents except that they were not sorcerers and, based on his affectionate ability to recognize family beyond blood ties, I think it'd be fair to make some assumptions about what typically informs a characters predilection for the found family trope. 👀

His cursed technique, I think, creates an impetus for purpose. I don't know how he figured out he could do curse manipulation. But we know he swallows the curse, the likes of which is compared to a rag that had been used to mop up vomit, in order to subjugate it. This process, this martyrdom of ingesting the negative run off of mankind has to have a reason to justify his suffering. Because, as the only person we see with this technique, it must feel like a burden only he knows. Moreover, with a special class technique, it's not like he's given much of a choice. But if it helps people, if it has meaning, purpose... he can endure.

We've seen the perfect storm of events that, don't necessarily challenge his pre-existing ideals, but... force him to question whether the ends justify the means. We can call each of these events a moral injury and I don't think it's a stretch to say that there is a link between staunch morality and radicalism which I'm going to bastardize as saying a person may have their ideals on a righteous pedestal. Believing that if I do "A" and "B" then "C" is sure to follow and it allows them purpose and reason. But life is seldom free of other stimuli. I'm not going to go into great depth about examples of this but suffice it to say, this break in Geto's belief system caused an internal chasm we see immediately.

When Gojo asks him if he should kill the believers that applauded Riko's death, Geto said "no, there'd be no reason" which I believe is sufficient for Gojo since he readily leans on Geto as a moral compass. But Geto keeps rationalizing further, likely to curb his own impulse to kill those gathered ignorantly in celebration. OP talks about no pushback on his ideals but the truth of the matter is the biggest pushback for Geto is internal.

When he decided to slaughter that village, he didn't leave a margin of error to come back from. He had to keep moving forward, keep pushing to achieve this impossible world because to not would mean that the atrocities he committed were done in vain and we know, from his characterization, that he would not be able to accept that. Gojo speaks of Geto not starting a war he can't win during JJK0 which is empirically incorrect. When they parted ways in high school, Geto relented that with Gojo's power, his vision could come into fruition. They both knew he didn't have the means to achieve this but he didn't have anything else to stand on. So he hurled himself further and further from his previous path of righteousness and further from himself. He'd committed too great a sin to not give it meaning. To question it now would shatter him completely.

So much of what makes Geto compelling is the fact that he is inherently characterized as a good person, forthright and gentle. He'd have been a great teacher. In fact, the events that transpired between Gojo and Geto are why Gojo is a teacher in the first place. I believe he tried to be a great father figure to Nanako and Mimiko (again, let's forget the murder for a minute) because he pointedly did not raise them in the ways or traditions of jujutsu society. He protected them as best he could even though they still didn't survive their teenage years because they were ignorant about binding vows with sorcerers! Crazy when you think about it. Even what he thought to be a kindness to them cost them fatally.

Things happened to him, likely intentionally, to create this departure from reality and the jujutsu world. He was forged to break because he lacked the flexibility and nonchalance to not be overly concerned for others. He wasn't a diabolical genius, he was overly compassionate and at a complete and total loss when terrible things continually happened to good people who were already sacrificing so much. Riko Amanai was resigned to give up her short life to guarantee the future of Japan. Haibara was a ray of sunshine who, with the means to do so, wanted to help people. The twins were simply cursed to see things the other villagers couldn't, a burdensome reality that damned them to a life he was finding no meaning in, himself. His weakness perhaps lay in a weakness of character? but I wouldn't even say that, honestly. He's like placid water hiding a violent undercurrent deep below the surface.

The gap between who he was and who he died as should be jarring. It should be a demonstration of the grisly reality of jujutsu society. Where classes of 2-3 children are regularly pressed to fight beyond their means against horrors only they know. The sacrifices of the few to protect the many regardless of their virtue. That's the point. He was a casualty of a system that would always lead him toward a moral crisis.

#neon asks #anon asks #manga with me #manga with me jjk #geto babygirled SO hard #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #anime #manga #jjk meta #jjk character analysis #character analysis #jjk geto

[yallemagne]

The way Mina emphasizes Harker. The way Jonathan sounds so vulnerable and scared. The way Lucy sounds just as vulnerable and scared.

She loves the way it sounds: Wilhelmina Harker. In the eyes of God, he's finally hers, and she's finally his.

She's so thrilled to finally wed Jonathan even if it isn't how they imagined, even if he can't stand for the ceremony, even if their only witnesses are strangers. She forgets that she's already referred to him as her husband because she's just so delighted that now it's true.

It doesn't matter to her that it isn't picture-perfect. In all likelihood, she never expected picture-perfect. Even in her immense joy, she still lets slip a little of her insecurity that she has no dowry to provide to him. But dowries, pah! Who cares! He'd marry her no matter what, and the same can evidently be said about her.

I gotta go into Jonathan's whole speech I---

'Wilhelmina'—I knew then that he was in deadly earnest, for he has never called me by that name since he asked me to marry him—'you know, dear, my ideas of the trust between husband and wife: there should be no secret, no concealment. I have had a great shock, and--'

The sound that plays! It swoops down like a bat over his head as he tries to think of what happened to him. There are also his ideas of trust-- they're very similar to Lucy's "A woman ought to tell her husband everything—don't you think so, dear?".

'--when I try to think of what it is I feel my head spin round, and I do not know if it was all real or the dreaming of a madman. You know I have had brain fever, and that is to be mad.'

His voice gets deeper, more solemn. It feels reminiscent of the way Renfield talks. It's very haunting and it shows his dire understanding that, were they in England, he would be denied his right to marriage even if Mina still wanted him.

'The secret is here, and I do not want to know it. I want to take up my life here, with our marriage.' 

Such ease in those words! "With our marriage"! It's like a weeping sigh of relief.

'Are you willing, Wilhelmina, to share my ignorance? Here is the book. Take it and keep it, read it if you will, but never let me know; unless, indeed, some solemn duty should come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake, sane or mad, recorded here.'

The words both read and sound just like wedding vows and the passion he has to muster for them is too much for his mind and body to handle, and he falls back asleep. But then all that uncertainty is deeply contrasted by his firm "I will."

Lucy speaks in a constant whisper, even while she's alone, she's so quiet. It is like how Mina says writing is like whispering to herself, but now, it's less comforting. Lucy's taken to writing in imitation of Mina because she misses her and wants to emulate the same behaviour that kept her friend thinking on her feet, but she really closely resembles Jonathan, noting others' feelings and privately planning what she may do to keep herself safe.

I don't know that she realizes Arthur is concerned for her. I think she believes he's still anxious for his father's sake, but she can't muster the gaiety needed to cheer him up in the same way Jonathan mustered all that passion for Mina. Because Jonathan is recovering, and Lucy is now suffering a relapse in her health. They both have the same beliefs about telling the truth in marriage, but in practice, it is very difficult for both of them. Jonathan struggles to remember, but he at least has his journal to give to Mina should she wish to know. Lucy only hopes that she can at least get well enough that her pretending will prove more convincing.

She says she'll try to persuade her mother to let her sleep in her bed, but she doesn't seem confident that she will. Mina would let her, but they're no longer on vacation together, are they? Her mother will likely scold her for being childish, but maybe if she provides a good enough excuse...?

She at least has to try.

#dracula #dracula daily #people ask me things #update #mina harker #jonathan harker #lucy westenra #jonmina #re: dracula

[panharmonium]

What do you think about this: "Kakashi was never interested in Sasuke as an individual, he only projected himself into him and saw a smaller version of himself on Sasuke, Sasuke was never Sasuke to him, just a little Kakashi". I wanted to know your opinion because I miss your meta posts and I feel like lately people are hating Kakashi for things that aren't real :/, also you are really good at explaining and I feel that both characters need love

Hello! Thanks for the question!

The answer to "what do i think about this" is, honestly, that I don't think about it X) I watched the whole show without engaging with the fandom at all (for fear of spoilers, initially), so I was able to experience it without being exposed to anyone else's thoughts, and now that I'm done I generally still avoid poking around, because devoting mental energy to opinions that I find bizarre/not supported by the text doesn't enhance my fandom experience.

Kakashi and Sasuke's relationship is one of the most compelling things about the series to me. I was very surprised when I finished the show/manga and first exposed myself to the fandom only to find so few people invested in them, but at this point I've (mostly) stopped asking myself "what show was everyone else watching" and just settled into enjoying the show that I watched, because that's more fun for me. I can't convince people not to dislike Kakashi if that's what they want to do. I do find it a little weird, because I don't think that's what the story is asking from us, but as long as people mind their business and aren't bugging me on my own blog, they're free to do what they want.

I know it can be frustrating when there are people hating various characters for "things that aren't real," but the fact that these criticisms aren't "real" is precisely why I generally avoid engaging with them. For Kakashi, specifically, there are certain things people can say that will immediately make me stop taking them seriously - "projecting" is one. "Bootlicking" is another, but again, these terms are so wildly inaccurate that I'm not interested in talking about them. The manga and the show are easily accessible; if people want to rewatch/re-read them, they can.

In general, I just prefer to avoid engaging with most of the fandom negativity I see. I think overall most of the rancor I've stumbled across boils down to people engaging with the story in very ungenerous ways, if that makes sense, and that's not how I prefer to read/watch things. Like - back when I was still in the middle of watching the show, I remember someone sent me a message saying that they loved seeing me talk about the story with earnestness/joy, and it was such a lovely message to receive, but it also made me pause and wonder for a second if this was really an uncommon enough thing to be remarked upon. Wouldn't that be the default? Aren't we all here because we love the story and the characters so much? But the truth is that sometimes it does feel like large chunks of fandom spaces (not just Naruto, I mean; I've certainly experienced this elsewhere) are very focused on being negative about "things that aren't real," as you said. Like - people calling Sakura "abusive" for bopping Naruto on the head when he says something rude, when this is not something the text is even remotely trying to say about her. People writing off Jiraiya's entire storyline because of the non-consensual spying on women - which, yes, of course, is disgusting and wrong. Obviously. I am very aware of that. However, I can simultaneously recognize that the story isn't really interested in that or intending me to read it like that; the voyeurism is written as a joke (yes, I understand how gross that is) and there are a hundred potential personal and/or patriarchal and/or genre-related and/or cultural factors that may have gone into Kishimoto writing this particular fail. If I want to understand and appreciate what the story was ACTUALLY trying to communicate with Jiraiya (that he's an idealist who gave up on the world when everything went wrong, who turned to shallow pleasures of the flesh to distract him from the pain of his disillusionment, and who was finally restored to his former faith after meeting Naruto), then I have to mindfully set the voyeurism aside and go, "This writer wrote a gross thing, and I recognize that, but I'm also not going to fixate on it, because I can simultaneously appreciate/find meaning in what he was really trying to say."

I think some of the Kakashi complaints out there very much fall under this umbrella. If I have to see one more person frothing at the mouth about Kakashi briefly tying Sasuke (a qualified ninja who has already demonstrated his ability to escape rope restraints and whom Kakashi has been individually mentoring, sparring against, and connecting with for a month) to a tree for approximately sixty seconds - honestly. I don't know how to tell people they're missing the point, so I don't bother.

Ultimately, the fact of the matter is that people are entitled to dislike any character that they want, even for contrived reasons. As long as they're doing their own thing in their own space and letting me do my thing in mine, we're good.

#now - don't get me wrong; my sister and i vent to each other all the time about the bad takes we've seen #a vent session can be extremely satisfying #and sometimes typing up a complain-y rant is good for the soul #but ultimately when it comes down to what i spend my time posting about #i'd rather spend most of my time writing about the stuff i love instead of refuting all of the opinions i don't agree with #it's just fandom in the end #i'm here to enjoy myself and connect with other people who enjoy the story in a similar way #i assume other people are here to do that too - even when our modes of enjoyment look very different #as long as we're chilling in our own spaces and not hopping onto other people's posts to start arguments #everything's good #naruto #replies #fandom