#CHARACTERS WHO WANT WHAT THEY CANNOT HAVE

[darkestmetamorphosis]

THIS THIS THIS. It's just the perfect woman/incompetent man sitcom couple that's been the standard for literal decades, now with ukefication yay :|

Like can people just... write female characters as people it's not that hard! If you're trying to write a woman - whether that's an oc, or a canon character who probably already has a personality beyond what you're flattening her to - and all you can think of is either "girlboss" or "cringefail" with no middle ground; if you really cannot comprehend a woman being a normal three dimensional person, do some fucking introspection PLEASE. Stop taking inspiration from media and tropes and look at real live people

And the obsession with "queering" relationships is... ugh where do I even start. First of all that does not make it any more or less "pure" or whatever. Second of all if you have a straight man and a straight woman, they're still both straight no matter who's doing what in the bedroom

If one or both of the characters is queer though that's its own set of nasty stereotypes. If one or both of them are bi it's the "all bi men are feminine so they must also be (insert laundry list of infantilizing stereotype)"/"all bi women are badass girlbosses because they're Not Like Other Girls". If they're trans it's "penis=dom/vagina=sub" reducing them to their agab and parts they may not even want. Like it's misgendering with extra steps, in complete denial of things like bottom dysphoria, surgery, or the fact that maybe trans people might have more reason than most to be averse to the whole gender role reversal thing because having that expectation imposed on you your whole life really fucking sucks and it sucks even worse to be pushed back into the same box. Except the box now has a thin veneer of fake wokeness, repackaging the same old shit

And for all the people in the notes going "where are you seeing this" it's not even just on this webbed site, it happens irl too. ime it comes from the girls who say things like "all men are trash" and people who make nasty jokes/assumptions about me because they think I look like a ~smol uwu soft boi~

All the stereotyping aside, the vibe I get from these sort of dynamics is like... neither of the characters is even really into it? Like it's not about love, not even lust, it's just about power and dominance with no aftercare (because surprise surprise, they don't know how bdsm - including actual femdom - works) Like it's just there because the writer thinks it's the only way you can have a straight relationship without being sexist

can't vibe with the pathetic sopping wet generic sub boy man/pristine feminine perfect goddess woman dynamic people try to put onto every m/f pairing in existence. don't you want something more interesting? characters don't need to have perfect psychologist approved relationships in fiction obvs but it's just so boring. don't you want something in character? don't you want something more interesting?? oh she pegs him? and you write this in a way that implies penetration is about domination and power? wowee. never seen that one before.

[charcubed]

I have soooooo much I want to write about Doctor Odyssey and if I keep waiting for the perfect moment to write something PROPERLY GOOD AND COMPREHENSIVE then I’m simply going to explode. So instead I’m going to write a messy little post on my phone when half asleep and try to keep it to one main topic.

Yeah yeah the throuple had a threesome (and I’m foaming at the mouth over it) but can we talk about the THEMES!!!!

This show is for crazy people (me specifically). Once again, I have a lot to say, but for now let me just focus on the wedding episode itself. That threesome is informed by the context of the rest of the episode in a way I simply CANNOT get over.

Let’s look at our passengers: the bride, groom, and best man. We find out all of them are being unfaithful to each other in various ways, miserable in their silence and unhealthy relationship dynamics. They all went to school together and were once close, but things went wrong somewhere along the way. The best man’s speech implies he has feelings for the groom, the groom is a sex addict who’s had multiple partners (possibly the best man included) because he feels trapped in a lie, and the bride and best man are having sex with each other. And none of them are communicating about it, and the groom who had preexisting mental health struggles commits suicide.

What happens to the three of them is a tragedy and it is absolutely a result of heteronormative monogamous culture. That culture was passed down from the bride’s mother to her too by example and societal influence.

I’m not exaggerating. It’s not subtle!!! At all!!! Everything explodes for those passengers because monogamy and repressing bisexuality wasn’t working for them.

They’re a dark mirror and cautionary tale. (Bonus points for how Avery’s sad backstory is that she was betrayed by her longtime friend / brief husband who cheated on her with a mutual friend as well, which is why she’s definitely hesitant about love now.)

By comparison, Avery and Max and Tristan have been avoiding some similar big pitfalls: they know they’re into each other and it’s not a secret, rivalries keep being squashed with effort, and no one is pressuring anyone to choose (so far).

This is what our beloved main characters have on their minds before what follows. And again, let’s not even get to the sex part yet… THE BUCKET LISTS!!! I’m losing my Goddamn marbles!!! The way all 3 of their lists intersect? Holy shit. Off the top of my head: Max and Tristan want to fall in love and have kids, Avery and Max want to see the world, Tristan and Avery have niche interests outside of medicine that they want to explore more… We were given itemized lists to show how the 3 of them balance and round each other out perfectly.

It’s not about any 2 of them because it won’t work with just any 2. It’s ALL THREE — just like all the framing and blocking of shots is consistently all 3, they walked down the wedding aisle all 3 together, the first sex scene for any of them that WE as the audience see on screen is all 3 of them together, a “bad threesome” is defined as 2 people getting too wrapped up in each other and the 3rd being an accidental outsider, we often see that if one duo gets a couple-y moment then the other duos get similar moments later as well, etc etc. Sorry. Let me not continue the summary list here and now so I don’t get too sidetracked but there’s A LOT.

But like, my current point? That wedding episode is a goldmine and the threesome explicitly happening doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Far from it. The themes are themeing in the whole show, of course, which is part of what I want to write about elsewhere at some point too: this show is repeatedly very deliberate about making sure heterosexuality or monogamy aren’t framed as the default or only correct options, and queerness is sprinkled everywhere. But this wedding episode specifically… the themes were nearly the ONLY PLOT. Nothing else — it’s basically only that, and it’s very focused. The failures of monogamy are on full display. And that’s why and how we get an explicit threesome right after it, which will lead us into how things will continue to develop for our trio.

Now, as for why the threesome happens so relatively quickly? My hot take on that is that general audiences can be stupid and so the creators wanted to put the throuple explicitly on screen fairly early to get people to start Noticing. Show them how the characters need to be together… and that sets us up for the possible angst and tension to follow as they have to accept it emotionally for themselves too. Now, as an audience member, you’ll more strongly know what to root for. You’ll know what’s right because you’ve seen it and you’ll want them to get back to that place, come what may. (If you’re not a puritan.)

It’s so fucking good. Insane silly show for insane people. Are we seeing the vision??? I need everyone to lock in.

This ramble is probably a disaster and I apologize for that but ohhhh man I had to put SOME words down so I wouldn’t explode. Suffice it to say I’m having a ball up in this bitch and I cannot believe this show exists. I couldn’t believe my eyes and my brain cells in the pilot, and I REALLY can’t believe them now.

What a time to be alive!!!!!! Polycule “love fest” on a cruise ship, baby!!! The world needs more love, all kinds of love, as the Captain says!!!! Onward to gay week!!!! LET’S SEE THOSE BI MEN KISS

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

it'll be ok

patrick x reader, 11.2k words

(basically, this fic is what happens when you let a songwriter have an unlimited word count with no narrative skills but a lot of feelings...)

this is a long one, and an intense one, and the plot is kind of convoluted and a mess and a lot of and im ngl reader is very specific and also very mentally ill and struggling the whole time (and is also def a flawed character but pls go easy on her)

an insanely angsty, moody, sad, but hopeful ending Patrick Zweig x reader fic (with a lot lot lot of Art Donaldson mentions though, like he is a main character just not a romantic interest)

set during Stanford era, reader goes to Stanford with Art

TWs: quite a bit of drinking, vomiting at one point from drinking, a lot of mental illness is present here ngl, reader has a really bad relationship with family (but there are not too many specifics), and some moments where reader cannot eat or sleep because of anxiety!

Freshman year of college was hard. You’d been so excited to finally get away from your family, and attend Stanford, but the adjustment was hard. You’d already been there a couple months, and you’d made friends, your closest one being Art Donaldson, a tennis player who just kind of… popped up in your Psychology 101 class, and then just stayed in your life.

The second you walked into the massive lecture hall, you knew you had messed up signing up for an introductory science class. You were an English major, this class wasn’t even required for you, but for some reason, you were here. You scanned the room, trying to not look as nervous as you were, and sat down in an empty seat. The class still didn’t start for a few minutes, and students were still filing in, getting set up for class. As the lecture hall started to get more full, you looked back down at your notes, trying to get everything ready for today. There were still a fair amount of empty seats left, so it took you by surprise when a blonde, athletic-looking boy came and sat down a seat away from you. He smiled at you, and you smiled back, and he introduced himself as Art Donaldson. You nodded and looked away, trying to look disinterested, but for some reason, this kid was hell bent on getting to know you. 

Eventually, you reluctantly decided to give him a chance. As much as the alarm bells in your mind went off, reminding you that it was definitely a bad idea to let yourself get socially involved, something about Art completely disarmed you. Though you tried your hardest to resist getting attached, especially to a guy, Art did everything he could to be a stable figure in your life, and for some reason, he cared about you. He didn’t mind your quiet, sharp exterior that you guarded yourself with; it seemed like he cared about you more because of it- from the first time you two met, it felt like he saw straight through you in a way that no one else ever had, like somehow he already knew you the first time you two met. 

You did everything you could to protect yourself, keeping your struggles and emotions to yourself, like you had been taught to. The hardest part about Stanford was being away from your family. All you had ever wanted was to be away from them, away from their mistreatment, but even after everything they had put you through, you couldn’t help but miss them. You missed your parents, as much as you didn’t want to, and you felt so alone without your family. You didn’t want to be alone, but you knew you couldn’t go home either. You just felt so alone. 

The only thing that felt worse to you than being completely alone, was actually trusting someone and then being left. But despite your resistance, you slowly found yourself starting to trust Art. At first, you tried everything you could to push Art away more. But every time he saw right through you, so you tried to be icier and more distant, so you could get him away before he even got the chance to hurt you. But Art had this careful kind of persistence, somehow not really minding that you pushed him away- He wasn’t trying to sneak closer to you, or get you to let him in, he just wanted to be there, wherever you were comfortable with. And as independent as you tried to be, you had to admit that maybe sometimes it was good to have a friend. 

You revolved your life around school. But nothing you did could help the loneliness that had been tearing you apart from the inside since you were a young teen. You were haunted by the thoughts that no one could understand, or care, and even if they did you knew that no one ever stayed. You were too much for anyone to handle. So you had no choice but to let the loneliness fester, and to just hide the pain from everyone else. But the emotions hurt more than words could describe- so you looked for distractions. So you studied. Obsessively. And your first midterm season was no exception- you put so much pressure on yourself that on the nights before your tests you couldn’t sleep or eat, your anxiety making you feel so restless and sick that you physically couldn’t do anything besides just studying and spiraling. 

–

It was not an exaggeration to say that by Friday night, you felt like death. After finishing your last midterm, you felt beyond empty. Your test adrenaline that had kept you going the past few days had suddenly worn off, and the consequences of your own actions had finally started to catch up to you. And without studying and anxiety to obsess over, you could no longer avoid your chronic loneliness. You were tired, and hungry, and completely alone. 

So when Art Donaldson showed up at your door to invite you to the frat party tonight, and added that his best friend was in town and he wanted us to meet, you knew it was a terrible idea, and you should definitely not drink in this condition.

So naturally, you agreed. 

You’d heard about his best friend Patrick Zweig before, and to be honest, he seemed like a cocky, self-centered idiot. But Art was insistent on introducing you two. You didn’t have much interest in meeting him, (but to be fair, you didn’t have much interest in meeting anyone right now). But, when Art asked you to just give him a chance, you couldn’t say no. 

So, in your zombie state and all, you went to a fucking fraternity party. Completely out of any energy, you poured yourself a strong drink, downed it, and repeated. And repeated. And repeated until losing count. 

And there you were, severely sleep deprived, practically hallucinating, and already wasted. 

And that’s when you met Patrick fucking Zweig for the first time. 

Even drunk, you could tell at first glance that Patrick was a player, just based on his cocky demeanor (and the fact that he was tall and hot. like, what girl wouldn’t want him?) So, you gave him a tight-lipped smile, closing your walls again before you’d let some womanizer guy take advantage of you.

Why had Art wanted you to meet him anyways? This guy seemed completely incompatible with you, and to be honest, you were surprised that he would be such close friends with sweet, gentle Art. So, you introduced yourself quickly, slipped out of the corner you’d been hiding in for the past half hour of this party, downed your way-too-strong drink, and went to go make another one. Now that midterms were over, you couldn’t use your obsessive studying to distract you from your family and loneliness, so getting fucking wasted seemed distracting enough. 

But of course, Art had to notice. And he had to get worried about you, making sure to stay close and keep you in his eyeline. He’d noticed your sadness, and having seen Patrick go through the same complicated family feelings throughout his years at Mark Rebellato’s, he could tell enough of what was going on. 

He was initially drawn to you because he saw Patrick in you. However, instead of shutting people out by acting overly confident and social like Patrick, Art watched you shut yourself away. And even though he had only known you for a couple months, he couldn’t help but care about you, recognizing Patrick’s sadness in you. 

So, when he saw you drinking so much at the party, he knew you were just coping with loneliness. He’d seen Patrick numb himself with drinks enough time in high school, trying to fill the emptiness with liquor and meaningless flings with the girls around him, trying to escape the desperate need to feel cared about and loved. Art knew Patrick like the back of his hand, and he knew that you two were scarily similar. 

As you got drunker, you migrated back to standing near Art, who was practically attached at the hip to Patrick, and you somehow end up rambling about the English paper you just finished. As douchey as Patrick seemed, something about his demeanor seemed gentle towards you, nodding and smiling softly, actually listening to you as you sipped drink after drink and had pointless conversations with Art. You tried to avoid his eye contact and ignore him- you hated to admit it, but he was good at being charming, and even after drinking this much, you still knew that you couldn’t let yourself fall for that. You’d already been dumb letting Art in so much, and you were still scared by how much you trusted him, and so there was no way you were going to let yourself develop some delusional crush on his douchey best friend. So you tried to ignore how tall he was, and how he towered over you, and how he somehow seemed actually interested in your idiotic drunken ramblings. You wouldn’t fall for his tricks.

You were incoherently drunk. And meeting Patrick fucking Zweig at the same time. You weren’t one to lose control, you wanted to tell him and Art, but at this point it didn’t even matter anymore. Because now, here you were, stumbling over your words and pouring all of your thoughts out before you could even stop to think about how embarrassing this was. It couldn’t get any worse than this. 

Actually, you soon learned that it could get worse. Finally, the countless drinks that had been churning around your stomach finally started to catch up with you, and you could tell that you were absolutely going to be sick. You tried to excuse yourself quickly from the boys, stumbling through the crowd outside as quickly as you could, just trying to reach the fresh air outside and hoping that it could refresh your senses. But of course, your escape plan was useless, because Art and Patrick trailed worriedly behind you. And as they followed you out, you prayed to forget all of this tomorrow.

You breathed in the cool, smoky air, wishing to vanish or something, anything to get out of what you knew was bound to happen.“I think I need to go back to my dorm,” you blurted out, turning around to face the boys, and slowly backing away, trying to conceal your wobbly steps, praying that they leave you alone before you got sick. 

But of course, you wouldn’t escape that easily. 

“Hey, let us walk you back,” Patrick said gently, stepping carefully towards you.

“Yeah, it’s really late, and my building is near yours anyways,” Art followed up, offering a comforting smile.

Even in your drunkenness, you could already tell that the two were worried and definitely wouldn’t be letting you walk home alone this late. And as much as you didn’t want them to see you like this, you didn’t trust your ability to get back home right now. So, you gave up on getting them to leave, and you finally nodded, letting them catch up to you as you accepted your fate of possibly having the worst first impression in the history of ever. 

You’d barely walked for 2 minutes when the inevitable feeling hit you… you were gonna throw up. 

So, this was how you introduced yourself to Patrick Zweig. Instead of hiding behind your cold, quiet demeanor that you tried to maintain, you ended up getting embarrassingly drunk, and now fucking throwing up. You scolded yourself in your head, trying to breathe slowly and calm the sickness, but the ground felt like it was spinning and you lost control. You quickly made yourself stumble towards some bushes as you vomited. (sorry guys i know this is gross but it's part of the plot </3)

You tried to conceal your face from Art and Patrick as much as you possibly could, not wanting them to get grossed out by your display (if you could call it that)- although there wasn’t really a way to hide when they’re standing next to you. Nonetheless, you tried, wishing to yourself that they would somehow forget about this, and just leave you alone to die in the bushes out of pure embarrassment. 

You continued to be sick, and everything just hurt at this point. But you suddenly felt a large, calloused hand gently lowering onto your back and rubbing soothing circles along your spine, as another hand gently brushed your hair away from your face, holding it back with a soft hold. Even in your dizzy state, you could tell that it wasn’t Art doing that- Art’s hands were always smooth and, like, way too well kept and soft for a college athlete. So, this must’ve been… Patrick?

God, this is your first impression? Throwing up at a fucking frat party? With him holding back my hair?

You can’t even tell how long you were standing there, throwing up into the damn Stanford bushes. But you do remember Patrick’s gentle touch never leaving your back or your face, as he whispered little “you’re ok”s into the night air as he comforted you. 

After you got back up, the rest of the night passed by in a dizzying blur, your vision making everything around you look like a stop-motion movie. You could feel your drunken memories as they evaded your mind and disappeared from consciousness just as quickly as they happened. You generally remember the idea of walking back to your dorm, trying to accept what just happened. You briefly remember Art and Patrick still walking with you after that, Patrick arm floating around your waist, as he tried to keep you steady. Both Art and Patrick seemed completely unfazed, and even understanding of you, like they had experienced this a million times before. 

The boys walked you all the way back up to right outside of your dorm door, making sure that you got all the way back home safe and intact. You whispered a feeble sorry and good night to them as you slipped back into your room, shutting the door and not even bothering to turn on the lights, letting yourself fall into your dorm’s shitty little twin bed. To be honest, you kind of knocked out after that, escaping from the chaos of the night and letting everything go black 

The next morning, you woke up with the golden San Francisco sun peeking through the half-open blinds on the windows. Despite not remembering falling asleep the night before, you could tell that you had knocked out cold soon after you got back to your room, seeing that you had fallen asleep outside of the covers and still in your party clothes and makeup… and even your shoes were on, damn. 

And, of course, you woke up with a headache. And a stomachache. And so tired, and so thirsty. But the pain in your body felt almost nonexistent compared to the horror that completely washed over you as the memories of the night before flooded back… at least enough of them to remember meeting Patrick, who was way too tall and cute to be embarrassing yourself in front of, as you recalled talking, and talking, and talking, and drinking, and talking, and then… throwing up. And then walking home. 

God, not only did you embarrass yourself in front of Art’s best friend, but you also did that in front of Art… your closest friend at Stanford… and god, he probably was disgusted by you and never wanted to see you again. 

At least, that’s what your mind told you, as you could help but feel nauseous again as the last night played back in your head. That’s what you get for going out right after skipping so many nights of sleep and proper meals because of midterms stress… God, you were dumb. Why did you listen to Art, and why did you agree to meet his best friend?

You still didn’t fully understand why Art had been so insistent on you meeting this Patrick guy, anyways. Did he want to set you up with a douchebag player? Like, what was the point?

Your mind flashed back to the feeling of his hand on your back, gently holding you while you were sick, and his careful, almost nervous hand floating around your waist, stabilizing you as you walked back to the dorm. That was Patrick, not even Art. And something about his featherlight touch and sweet silence made you feel like he understood you, and somehow he knew how you were feeling, even though you had never met before.

You shook the thought off, figuring that it was just your drunken mind making up this feeling between you. He was probably just giving you that smug smile that he flashed at you when you first met, and you perceived it as something gentle and kind in your pathetic loneliness. Ugh, you felt dumb. Your shame of the past night felt like a weight tied to your ankles, keeping you imprisoned in your dorm room. You didn’t want to see Art anytime soon, your mind crowded with thoughts about how he probably thinks you’re so dumb at this point, and he wouldn’t want to care about you anymore after seeing how you acted. (And to be fair, your thoughts were definitely irrational and untrue, but the Sunday (or technically Saturday) scaries can seriously be haunting sometimes).

Oh, and you could definitely never face that Patrick guy again. He doesn’t even go to Stanford, so if you can avoid Art enough, then you’d probably never have to see him again anyways. Hopefully.

But… you could almost still feel his hand on your back, rubbing circles, taking care of you while you were sick, and it just felt so… affectionate. No one had comforted you like that in a long time… Even at home, when you got sick, you’d lock the bathroom door and turn the faucet up to drown out any noise you’d make, so you didn’t “burden” your family with your illness. You took care of yourself. Like you always did, and you always would. But in that moment, even just recalling the hazy, embarrassing memory, you could still feel that safety and care from him… 

You snapped yourself out of this mental spiral- God, you were delusional. And probably also eternally pathetically lonely. 

And you were most definitely not leaving your dorm room for the rest of the weekend. 

–

You spent the rest of the weekend hiding in your dorm, feeling like fucking Dracula not being able to bear the outside light. You tried to push down your shame, blaming the hangover for your anxiety, but you still decided that distancing yourself from Art would be the right thing to do. There is no way you could let yourself be that vulnerable with a guy, especially since you couldn’t stop thinking about Patrick, and how he took care of you. And maybe this was a strange thing to ruminate on so much, but something about it felt so personal. It’s like something is pushing you towards him, that you have no control over, making you want to just be near him again. 

God, you were pining. For Patrick Zweig? You were getting attached to a guy you had met for one damn drunken night. Fuck you, Art, for introducing you to Patrick. You were fucked. And spiraling. 

– 

After a successful weekend of avoiding the world, you finally had to leave your room again. You had classes to go to. You took a long shower, composed youself, and got ready to get back out in the world- there was no way you were gonna let a dumb embarrassing moment in front of fucking Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig interfere with your academics. And besides, you needed to distract yourself, and filling the void of loneliness with countless tasks and books to read sounded perfectly fine. 

You saw that Art had texted you that Sunday morning asking how you were. And you ignored it. And of course, he had to text again on Tuesday, asking if you wanted to grab coffee before Psychology lecture like the two of you usually did. Like everything was normal or something. 

And again, you didn’t respond. And then you skipped your Psych class. You emailed an apology to the professor, and watched over the class recording he sent you, taking notes on it. But there was no way you could face Art Donaldson yet. 

Your avoidance of him almost got irrational- you knew you were blowing things out of proportion, but you were so scared that if you got close to Art again, you’d see Patrick again, and… you couldn’t do that. You made a commitment to yourself- from now on, you definitely fucking hated Patrick Zweig. You didn't need to justify yourself with a reason why. You just needed to hate him.

–

Avoiding Art got more and more difficult as the weeks went by- you skipped another Psych class and practically snuck around campus to go to your classes, paranoid that he would see you around. So you broke, and decided to talk to him. Well, not really talk to him about your 2-week avoidance. He didn’t have to know what was going on with you. So, you came up with the most bullshit excuse you could. You claimed you’d been sick, and coincidentally also your phone had been broken, and that’s why he didn’t see you and you also didn’t text him at all. Pneumonia was really going around this year, right? 

Somehow, you actually showed up to your next Psych class. You sat on the opposite side of the row as Art, burying your face in a novel and pretending to not even notice anyone around you, not even him. You stared at your notebook for the entirety of the lecture, obsessing over your notes that were definitely way too detailed, and made sure not to look over at Art. He couldn’t be mad at you if you simply just didn’t see him, right? And as soon as class ended, you dove back into your novel, not even looking up on your walk out.

You knew you were acting irrationally. But you’d been acting like this for so long that you knew you’d dug yourself into a hole with Art, and there was no use trying to crawl out and explain yourself. So you just let it continue. 

– 

However, your seemingly flawless avoidance plan (predictably) didn’t last very long. It only really ended up lasting until that same weekend, when of course, you had to cross paths with Art Donaldson on your walk back from your favorite, cute little bookstore. You had almost made it back to your dorm without bumping into anyone, and you almost forgot about all of your anxieties- 

Until you looked up and found yourself looking straight into Art Donaldson’s eyes, as he walked the opposite way as you, your eyes widening at the sight of him in his tennis uniform, with his giant racket bag slung over his shoulder. You instantly remembered: he always leaves for his Saturday tennis practices at this time. Fuck, you shoud’ve known not to be here at this time, but you just wanted to go to the bookstore so much that you had to forget literally everything else. 

So, here you were, face to face with Art Donaldson, after ghosting him completely for over two weeks, because… you threw up in front of him at a party. You stopped walking as you approached him, guilt flooding your mind as you realized that you had completely shut him out for… god, almost three weeks today. 

“Hey”, he said as he approached you, his voice soft, almost like he was testing the waters, as you froze in place, unable to look away from his eyes. “Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you since… like the day after midterms. You said you got pneumonia? And your phone broke?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment as you tried not to visibly cringe at how illogical your actions and excuses sounded in his words. 

“God, Art, I fucked up,” you blurted out, unable to filter yourself… and now that you’ve started talking, you knew you couldn’t stop… “I’m so sorry, Art” you said, trying to breathe and compose yourself, the shame for your actions threatening to swallow you whole. “I… Ok, I’ll just be honest. I felt so embarrassed after getting so drunk at that stupid frat party, that I started avoiding you, and then I guess I… Once I started, I couldn’t then go up to you and talk to you, so I let myself dig further and further into this hole and it just felt too bad to climb out and… Well, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I should have texted, and you did nothing wrong, I just was embarrassed-” You stopped yourself from rambling further, forcing yourself to take a breath and let Art respond. You looked down, as if you were trying to gaze straight though your shows and into the ground, as you braced yourself for the worst- you had been told a million times by people around you that you were too much to handle, so you pushed away and broke every relationship, and you knew that you had just done that again. And now you talked way too much, and he

“Listen… I get it” Art almost whispered- and when you looked up, you were met by a sympathetic smile and a worried stare that looked like it could read your mind. “I know how stressed you were because of midterms, and it definitely wasn’t a good idea for me to drag you out to a party right after we took them- and I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you by also introducing you to Patrick too, I know that he can be… a lot. And I’m not mad at you. But next time, just let me know if you’re not doing well. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, just… be in contact.”

You were almost taken aback by his words- you were expecting Art to give you icy stares and bring out words so sharp that they pierced straight through your skin, and you felt like you would have deserved it. But he actually thought about you, and apologized? You stood there for a moment, your mind still processing his response and unable to form words, when he spoke again, this time softer and more nervous:

“Just… try meeting Patrick one more time? You don’t have to anytime soon, but at some point, just get to know him a little. And then you can never talk to him again, but… this is important” he insisted, his tone anxious and almost a little awkward. He offered a comforting smile, still noticing some fear lingering in your eyes after the entire conversation. 

– 

Looking into your expression, Art’s mind went straight back to the one night in 10th grade at the academy, when he and Patrick had stolen a joint from their young guest tennis instructor’s bag, and decided it would be a great idea to try getting high together for the first time. It started fun, as Art and Patrick settled into a half-conscious recalling of embarrassing childhood memories, laughing at themselves and at old classmates, until they had somehow gone into talking about family memories, when Patrick broke down crying while confessing about how much he didn’t want to go home for the holidays. In the 5 years that Art had known Patrick before that, he never heard him talk like that. The two of them talked for a couple hours, eventually joking around and laughing too hard at everything, like high teenage boys would do, but something in Patrick had melted away- like some barrier that he had held up for so long that neither Patrick not Art even fully realized it was there the whole time- and Art suddenly saw a glimpse past Patrick’s self-centered persona, and say what was behind his loud words and bold actions. 

But, by the time Art woke up the next day, Patrick had realized how much he exposed himself the night before, and completely shut down. Of course, with this being Patrick, it didn’t last more than a week before he and Art started joking around again- but from then on, Art could see through Patrick’s actions a lot more. And even though Patrick never explicitly mentioned that night again, and he still probably wouldn’t, even years later, he did open up a little more after that: he started calling his parents when Art was in the room, and starting skipping his own family’s events to stay at Art’s grandma’s house during the winter holiday breaks- and although Patrick never showed this side to anyone else, he let Art see it; he had almost memorized the hurt in Patrick’s eyes after rough phone conversations with his parents, the loneliness that Patrick tried to cover up so desperately, and finally could see straight through Patrick’s words, when he pushed people away because he was afraid. And when he met you, despite the fact that you seemed cold and almost kind of mean, Art instantly recognized the distinct kind of sharpness in your voice, and the fear hiding behind your judgey stares. And since then, he couldn’t help but want to take care of you and protect you, the way that he wanted to protect Patrick- but even more than that, he could tell that Patrick would see straight through you too, and soften him up a little. Neither you nor Patrick seemed like the type to admit that you cared, but something about the two of you seemed intertwined, like there was some sort of invisible string between the two of you that was obvious to Art the moment he met you.

–

Stupidly enough, you had actually agreed with Art that you’d meet Patrick again. But maybe not yet. Art understood more than you thought he would, and didn't bother you about it as you warmed back up to a friendship with him. You stopped feeling like you had to sneak around campus and you went back to sitting with Art during Psychology class. And even though things still hurt, the weight that your family had left on your shoulders seemed to slowly get lighter, and you stopped missing home so much. Between Art, your other English major friends, and some kind professors, you have started to feel a bit more independent. However, even as you let yourself let go of home a little more, you could still feel the loneliness gnawing at you- you liked being independent, and you had gotten used to being independent- you had been independent your whole life, figuring out how to cope with things yourself and not letting yourself need anyone. However, even as you became more content with your college life, you still felt a desperate part of you wanting to feel a little cared for and wanted- maybe just someone to understand, to share the hurt sometimes. But you just blame that on your family issues, praying that the empty feeling would eventually fade away- it was better than trying to find someone to fill it, you couldn't let yourself trust anyone to stay. 

But in the meantime, you focused on yourself. At least you tried to. You tried to take care of yourself, you worked hard in classes, and you didn’t force yourself to call back home. You tried to be more social, actually attending some frat parties with your girl friends (and the nights didn’t end terribly for you anymore), but you still strictly maintained a lot of your coldness and quietness- you liked having friends, and you felt like you fit in, but you made sure to lock away any sign of neediness or pure vulnerability- you didn’t want to let your past drag you down, so you shut it out, and shut everyone away from that part of you. And you did a pretty good job- but of course, Art saw right through it. But he didn’t say anything, he just tried to help from the outside as much as he could without overwhelming you. He started bringing over coffee or dinner when he noticed that you were shutting yourself in your room, and quietly helping you out on the simpler things, like helping you out with laundry or helping you out with your desk clutter on the days that it was hard to get things done without some motivation. 

The next few months of the semester floated by, as you learned to balance your schoolwork with the rest of your life, and you buried your sadness deeper inside until it was almost invisible- although you could feel it tearing into you a little more. You felt it when you were alone, and even worse when you were in a group or a crowd, still feeling lost and like despite even being friends with all of the people around you, none of them actually could touch the pain inside of you- and you felt too guilty to tell them, not wanting to place your burdens onto them as well. 

You ended up staying at Stanford for thanksgiving, telling your family the excuse that it was just too far to fly all the way home for less than a week of vacation, and had dinner alone on the floor of your dorm, drinking through a bottle of wine and watching trashy reality tv. You didn’t tell anyone that you did this- you didn’t lie, but you also dodged any conversation about it. Although you told yourself that you loved the cozy nights alone, you couldn’t fully ignore the loneliness ripping you apart further. As much as you tried to cover it up with a quiet and guarded personality, you still found yourself in bed at night replaying the distant, fuzzy memories of Patrick Zweig on that one drunken night- and even though you tried to hate him during the day, you still found yourself curled up on late, anxious nights, letting yourself remember and cling onto a feeling that you felt for less than a second that night, finally allowing yourself just a brief moment to be weak, no longer holding onto your defenses, and for a silent moment letting your mind be cradled by that untouchable, unexplainable feeling that somehow, for some reason, someone had understood you. He understood you, and he saw straight through you, and he still held onto you. 

(But, by the morning, you had already pushed that idea so far back down, that you would have forgotten how real it felt, when you let yourself feel it. But, by the daytime, you were sure again that you were imagining these things about Patrick Zweig, and you allowed the familiar pull of loneliness tearing you apart just a little more, crying for something that didn’t exist. And inside, you kept a secret from yourself- that all of you was hoping for just one more night that you would let yourself be held by the memory again.)

–

You saw Patrick again in passing on the few times he came to visit Art. He always seemed to try and talk with you, despite you brushing him off every time. Once, much to your dismay, he came with you and Art to grab your usual coffees before your lecture together, and Art basically struggled to hold back his laughter at Patrick, whom he had always seen as the charmer who moved on from girls almost instantly, seemingly try his hardest to try and get you to break a little. And while Patrick respected your space, and left you alone when you brushed him off, he seemed like he was longing for some sort of conversation with you.

And the truth is, Art would’ve advised Patrick to fuck off a long time ago after you ignored him for the first time, if you had wanted him to leave… but Art knew you, and based on the way that you always blushed whenever Patrick’s name was brought up, and you always fidgeted with your jewelry and hair anxiously even as you openly ignored Patrick, Art knew you were just pushing him away. Art had seen you do it before, and while he allowed you to push Patrick away over and over again, part of him just loved to see how much Patrick actually let his guard down around you. For the first time in Art’s life, Patrick was really nervous about a girl. So nervous that his cocky, charming alter-ego completely fell when you were there. Because Patrick understood what Art had noticed in you- you were also hurt, and really really persistent in protecting yourself, hiding any vulnerability. And Patrick was the same- but something about you made him ok with showing that he cared. With you there, he couldn’t help it. 

Patrick visited Art a total of 3 times that semester (not that you were counting, definitely not), and for each visit, Patrick tried to approach you at least one time, wanting to really talk to you, but always giving you space whenever you signaled for it. He felt bad being so persistent, constantly trying to understand and follow any rules or boundaries you were setting, but it felt like you were being purposefully vague with him. So, he followed your lead as best he could.

And to be honest, you didn’t even know what you wanted either. Your mind told you that you needed to push him away. But you just couldn’t let him go completely either. But it just couldn’t work out. Everything was confusing, and nothing you could do felt right. You didn’t like him, you couldn’t. You didn’t. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, Art could easily tell that you and Patrick were both way too into each other- but there was just no way to get you to let your guard down in front of Patrick. You seemed terrified to let him care about you, even though Art could tell you had a soft spot for him, and how much you forced yourself to block him out. But every time you told Patrick to leave, he made sure to leave you alone and give you the space you wanted… but you always just ended up looking depressed whenever he left, no longer talking and shutting down even more than when he was there. And by the end of Patrick’s third visit, after you spent the whole time trying to push him away, but you then always stayed around Art’s dorms and tennis practices when Patrick was there. Always near him. Art couldn’t help but notice how you locked yourself in your room for a few days, and looked unusually and consistently sad every time he saw you for at least the next week. 

God, you two were absolutely, undeniably lovesick, and it was getting more obvious in every interaction. 

—

As you neared the last month of your first semester of college, you almost forgot about the yearly Stanford tradition that was inching closer and closer- family weekend. 

Well, actually you didn’t forget at all. How could you, when you got like at least twenty reminder emails in the past week, and saw the flyers for the activities that were planned for all of the students to do with their parents. You were fully aware that family weekend was nearing…

And you just didn’t tell your parents about it. You didn’t have to. And honestly, they were so focused on taking care of your older sister at her school, that they didn’t even keep up with any Stanford news. (and, even if they had seen one of the many emails that were sent, they didn’t mention it, because they ended up making plans to visit your sister over the weekend). And so, you were going to be alone on family weekend. 

You crafted a plan for this weekend nearly identical to the one you had for thanksgiving- ask for a couple bottles of wine from your sorority friends, order a shit ton of food to your dorm, and hide inside and pretend that nothing else exists from Friday to Monday. 

And that was the plan. Sure.

Until Art had a different idea.

“You know, since my grandma’s house is only like an hour away from here, and she’s gone for the weekend, I was just gonna stay there for the weekend. And I have spare bedrooms, and air mattresses in the basement, so like last minute now I’m hosting boys and girls tennis teams, and we’re partying all weekend. I guess a lot of tennis kids don’t care to see their folks this weekend either,” Art grinned at you excitedly, looking a little too excited to explain his plan. “And you know… you haven’t told me about what you’re doing, but on the off chance that you were free this weekend I saved a room for you in my house if you’d want to come. No pressure,” he says, and you definitely don’t miss the glimmer of excitement that flashes in his eyes when you nod your head, deciding to just let Art win and not try to put up a fight. To be honest, it’s not like you were doing anything good locked up in your dorm room, so you might as well go to Art’s house. Worst comes to worst, you’ll just hide and read your novels in the guest room there anyways. 

“By the way,” Art says, looking slightly nervous but also clearly holding back a smile, “Patrick’s gonna be there this weekend too, if that’s ok. You don’t have to talk to him at all, it's no pressure at all.” 

–

The rest of the week passed by you like a breeze, and by Friday morning you were packed for the weekend and ready to go. You had packed a combination of casual cute clothes and some sweats as well, since Art had claimed that this was all gonna be chill and casual. 

All of Art’s guests had to organize rides for themselves, but since you weren’t part of the tennis teams, Art had immediately offered you to go with him. Art was always weirdly good at identifying what was making you anxious, and trying to find a solution if he could. So, after an hour car ride of you blasting your favorite songs with the windows while Art drove you both down to his house, and you realized how much you missed obnoxiously loud music**** and speeding down highways while you were living at Stanford. 

****(Irrelevant author’s note: in my mind, I’m imagining listening to the Jeff Buckley songs Gunshot Glitter, Nightmares by the Sea, and What Will You Say, specifically the live version from the Theatre de Fourviére, Lyon, France. Yes, it being this specific exact live performance is very important to me! And for bonus points, the Radiohead songs Airbag, Just, and How To Disappear Completely (depressing but heavenly at full volume), and also for something fun and loud, the song Closet by Fleshwater. Trust me that song is so good omg. Ok thats it from me byee <3).

It seemed like no time at all until you and Art arrived at his (insanely oversized) house, and as you pulled into the smoothly paved driveway, you felt a breath of relief escape from your lips. You didn’t fully let yourself process just how much you were dreading the Stanford family weekend until you realized that you actually, officially escaped it, and the relief washes over you like a cold rainstorm finally breaking through a heat wave so long, you had forgotten that the burning feeling wasn’t normal. 

While the thought of your family not even noticing, or more likely not really caring about, the family visiting weekend burned in your chest, it at least felt good to get some physical distance from the festivities going on back at school. And even though you loved Stanford, and it started to feel like your true home, you knew it would do you good to be physically forced out and away from your beloved dorm room, after trapping yourself in it so much (which you had also been planning to do again this weekend). And besides, you knew that Art was going to set you up with a cool guest room, which, although you didn’t want to admit it, would definitely be way nicer than your cramped little single dorm and rock-hard twin bed that you had grown used to. (No hate to the dorm room from this story we still love u queen <333)

Walking through the front door of Art’s house felt like another sigh of relief, a pestering weight being lifted off of your shoulders, even if just for this weekend. Since you traveled with Art you two arrived a little before everyone else, so you two share a bottle over overly-expensive sparkling rosé (that is definitely too fancy to be consumed casually like this, but Art clearly doesn’t care), while the two of you hang around as people start to arrive and leave their stuff in their rooms.

It’s only like 7pm on Friday night when the party has already seemingly started, all of the guests having arrived and just too excited to wait to have fun until later that night. You find yourself more relaxed at this party than at the usual frats, sipping on some other expensive champagne that Art opened for you, actually savoring your countless glasses you’re drinking, instead of your usual chug of overly strong liquor-filled complete mind-escaping drinks. You queue up songs and walk around the ground floor, the kitchen, the living room, and the game room all filled with different groups of tennis kids playing games and hanging out. It feels a lot more low stakes than the usual frat rager, and you enjoy the slight warm and fuzzy feeling you're getting from the alcohol, instead of drinking until you stumble around and your head feels empty. 

You almost get surprised when a song that you’re sure you didn’t mean to queue up, Lover, You Should’ve Come Over by Jeff Buckley, the live from the Cabaret Metro in Chicago version (yes it being this live version is important to me) starts flooding the room. The song is definitely too gut-wrenching to be playing at a college party, you think to yourself, but you also don’t make any effort to skip the song or turn it off anytime soon. Hearing this song blasted over the speakers, surrounding you in its emotion and vulnerability, feels almost like a complete catharsis. And of course, as if in a queue, you spot him across the room…

Patrick. fucking. Zweig.

He looks up at the same time as you, the bridge of the Jeff Buckley song blaring and the timing feels too in point, like some sort of dumb set-up. And you almost want to roll your eyes, but you can’t move your stare away from his eyes, and without even trying you feel like you can read straight through his intense gaze, like you’ve both been hypnotized by each other’s expressions. And as you hold eye contact for far too long to be normal, you see a break in his expression. For a single moment he looks completely fragile, and his walls have broken straight through. And in his eyes, you see a glimmer of sweetness, and even though he’d tried approaching you several times before, he had never looked this lovesick and cute before. And though you’d only met a few times, and you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care, something in you broke down from the way he was looking at you… and for a passing moment, you could read the loneliness behind his expression, and you could feel it tearing him apart too, the same way it did to you. And for the first time you let yourself notice a concealed sadness in his eyes that felt so familiar, a thought crossed your mind that said that somehow, you must have known each other all your lives.

The moment only lasts until you blink, and you realize that you had fully stopped breathing for the past 39 seconds, looking at him. Your mind swells with a hailstorm of countell words, your thoughts connecting and swirling into tornados, and you couldn’t help but just sit there and feel them breaking down your strength and burning doubts through your memories. You felt as old memories started echoing through your body, and your mind was filled with alarms blaring, begging you to not let the past happen again, screaming at you to run or hide.

You tried to pay back attention to the music, which had moved from Jeff Buckley songs and was now playing some old SZA that Art must’ve cued up, and you tried to focus on the music, wishing that it would drown out the noise of the alarms that still tortured you, and your thoughts were so loud you thought they might overflow. Needing to get out, especially before Patrick saw you like this, you rushed over to Art, desperately needing to reach the nearest escape route.

“Hey Art, which guest room is mine?” you ask, trying to press a fake smile on your face, willing your face to look happy, but your voice chokes as you desperately hold into the tears threatening to stream down your cheeks. Everything is too overwhelming for a second, and while you try to focus just on the music, the random groups of friends hanging out around you start to feel like they’re closing in on you, and their drunken giggles and chatter start to sound like they must be talking about you. All of a sudden you feel suffocatingly claustrophobic, and you can’t help but choke on your breathing. Just praying to the tears and sobs you’re clinging onto can stay back for just one more minute, at least until you get to the stairs. 

Art looks over your face, almost worried but trying hard not to press into you and make you feel worse. “The stairs are through there”, he says, gesturing to a hallway on the right, “and your room is the third door on the left. There’s a little sticky note with your name on it up on the door, I put one on yours and Patrick’s rooms to reserve the best rooms for you guys,” he explains, trying to give you a comforting smile, trying to show his understanding without making you feel delicate, even though you look like you could break at any moment. He’s never seen you like this, so opened, and it’s like someone completely tore down the walls and guards you always keep around you. The coldness that usually sits in your eyes is gone, and while you may just look kind of upset to most people, Art can tell how unprotected you feel right now. He nods and guides you over to the hall that leads to the stairs, but he lets you walk up alone so that you don’t have to cry in front of him. Despite his instinct to comfort you, he knows that you want to be alone right now, so he lets you go. 

Your conversation with Art goes mainly unwatched and you sneak out of the party pretty successfully, as you’re finally out of sight from the crowded living room, stepping slowly up the soft beige carpet that drapes over the tall spiral staircase. Once you’re completely hidden from the party, you finally let yourself lose control over your spilling tears and silent sobs, rushing up the stairs and into the room that Art had labeled with your name. The guest room looked regal, an ornate white cabinet standing against the wall and a huge, soft bed sitting in the room, the towering white bed frame adorned with a transparent, light blue canopy that draped over the bed, turning the bed into a fantasy-like cove that looked like it belonged on a cloud, not in a spare bedroom of the Donaldson’s mansion. You somehow don’t even have the energy to change out of your jeans before you flip off the lightswitch and crawl straight into bed, letting yourself get swallowed up into the blankets as your tears and mascara silently stain one of several white pillows stacked around the bed. If you weren’t in the middle of crying you probably would’ve laughed at how extravagant and detailed the Donaldson’s guest rooms are, the whole mansion feeling like it should have been more out of Downton Abbey than the house of Art Donaldson. There were also somehow like 5 other bedrooms scattered around the house, and you didn’t even want to imagine what the rest of them looked like. 

Sniffling, you close your eyes and do your best to breathe, pushing away the thoughts that you feel eating at you, echoing around your mind, waiting for answers- what the fuck happened there with Patrick? You took one good look at him and wanted to cry, like what the fuck. 

The familiarity in his expression is haunting- you’ve spent so much time feeling alone and misunderstood, and you’d just figured that no one would really get how you feel, and that was ok… But he understood it. He understood the loneliness tearing you apart, and maybe somehow he felt it too. But why would some random, rich, popular tennis player kid understand you out of everyone? How could he understand feeling unwanted, when he looked like that? And the memory of his brash, cocky smile makes you want to cry even more, you can’t believe you’re getting attached to someone who clearly wouldn’t care about you. You had tried too hard to push him away, and not let yourself get close to him whenever he came to visit… but something about tonight made you feel completely powerless. What scared you the most was that during all of it, you could feel that all you’d really wanted in that moment was to be wrapped in his arms, and told that everything was ok. You just wanted to feel cared for- you didn’t want to feel the pain by yourself. And feeling like that was genuinely terrifying.

And as much as you hated the truth, you also felt so relieved to admit it. To maybe be ok with it, even though it seemed terrifying to trust someone like that again. But despite how much you hated the truth, it felt freeing to stop forcing yourself to deny it, even if it was just for a moment.

You let yourself sink into sleep, and despite the night being hard, it somehow felt necessary- and while you know that your guard won’t stay down forever, it at least felt good to let yourself past the walls for the first time in a while. 

–

The next day you woke up to an intense beam of sunlight pouring straight through the windows and onto your bed, and the tension that you’d been holding in your body doesn’t feel so tight anymore. 

As you climb out of the sunlit bed and step onto the cold wooden floor, you can’t help but cringe when you realize you slept in yesterday's clothes. And jeans. You really were completely drained, and you must have also been crazy tired yesterday- maybe that’s why everything felt so intense, and your little moment with Patrick was not as terrible as you thought, right?

You changed into a new outfit for the day, fixing your hair and redoing some makeup, and you went down to find an already populated kitchen. You ate breakfast and made small talk with some friendly tennis girls, checked in with Art, and curled up on a couch and read for a couple hours- you tried to not hide in your room, but you definitely were also not going to waste all of your energy before the night even began.

By the time you had gotten up that morning it was already past 10am, and the rest of the day seemed to just breeze past you, as you alternated between reading, hanging out in the backyard with Art and some of his teammates, and you even passed by Patrick a couple of times without psyching yourself out too much.

You were curled up on the couch the first time he walked through the living room, and he smiled at you when you looked up. But the proudness and obnoxious confidence that he usually bared in his smile was absent, his expression just kind of cute and soft, a stark difference from the usual intimidating mask he has on. He ends up just passing through the living room and going to the kitchen, but his smile sticks in your mind for a little longer, your slight surprise as the pure softness of his look still present in the back of your mind even as your mind wanders away from him and back into your reading.

You two pass by each other a couple more times that day, and you notice how even when he greets you in public, his guard falls for just a minute when he looks at you, his loud facade falling just for you. Art clearly notices too, and you can see the amusement on his face whenever Patrick looks over at you, stealing small glances at you when you don’t notice. He’s told both you and Patrick enough about each other that you two don’t seem like strangers despite this being your second time meeting. He can’t help but let out a laugh when he sees the way you look back at Patrick though- your stare back at him is cold, and even though Art knows that you’re not doing it on purpose, you never really smile back- you seem more focused on reading Patrick’s smile than focusing on your own face. And no matter what, you consistently look away from him first, and your cheeks burn a little red every time you look away.

You two continue your silent game for the rest of the day, and you let it happen. Patrick Zweig was pining. 

Even after your constant pushing and pulling, and avoidance, and dismissing of Patrick, he was still there. After fucking months. And for some reason, he understood you. And he fucking waited, he waited for you to open up, and he didn’t even know if you every would. And he cared for who you were. Even when you were really fucking embarrassing. And maybe, possibly, he isn’t just trying to hurt you, and, like, someone could actually care. And you wanted to let him. You did. 

But you stayed quiet.

-

By the time the sun had set, you had decided to accept your fate as completely hopeless. And you were completely exhausted. And you decided that you should just talk to Patrick and tell him it’s over, and you don’t want him. And you knew it would be a blatant lie, and he would know it was a lie, and even fucking Art would know it was a lie, and you didn’t know why you were doing it. 

And you could again feel yourself being ripped to shreds on the inside. And you knew it was your fault, and you were making it happen. And to be honest, all you could think about was how you wished he was holding you. And you wished for things to slow down, and for the constant alarms in your mind to quiet down, and you just wished that everything could just cease to exist for one moment, so maybe for once you could have a break. 

You and Art were the only ones left outside, surrounded in a total silence that was more vulnerable than anything you had ever said to him. And you tried to tell Art about how you really, truly, didn’t want Patrick. But the words just didn’t make sense. How could you end things with someone you had never even started with? How could you even explain to Patrick that, even though you had always rejected him, that you actually wanted him the whole time, and now you don't? And how could you even admit to Patrick that you wanted him in the first place? And how can you explain a feeling this complicated? 

“It’s fucking torture. Even just thinking about him is fucking torture,” you say, your words piercing the silence that had laid so comfortably over you before. 

You watched as Art turned his face, looking at you, but not saying anything.

You let out a shaky breath before continuing, “It’s just… I don’t even know anymore. I don’t understand why I can’t let myself be happy for once. For the first time, I feel like I’m just completely breaking. Like, I can’t protect myself anymore. It’s like I’m fucking killing myself keeping people away, and I feel like it’s what I need to do to protect myself, but I’m fucking dying maintaining this. And I don’t want to be like this. I want to be different.”

And you just… cry. 

And for the first time, you don’t hide, and you don’t try to run away. You sit there, and cry. And you just let it happen. 

You look over at Art and break a small smile- “Can we watch a movie?” You ask, your voice still a little shaky.

And, of course, Art grins and nods- “Yeah. of course. We can go to the little lounge upstairs,” he says, getting up alongside you as you both walk indoors.

Just like last night, the entire ground floor of Art’s house is filled with the tennis kids partying. But you don’t spot Patrick anywhere as you and Art cross through the living room and reach the stairs, and as you climb up, Art breaks the silence. 

“Patrick’s probably in his room,” Art says, looking straight at you, practically having read your mind.

You roll your eyes and let yourself smile, softly responding, “could you maybe invite him?”

Art nods, pointing to the TV lounge room, saying “there’s the lounge room. I’ll ask Patrick. Meet you there,”

The wooden floor planks make a slight creaking noise as you walk down the hallway, entering the little room that Art had pointed to. It’s just a little lounge room, with a sofa and an armchair facing a tv. You pick up the remote and start fiddling with it, sitting down on the big couch, sinking into the cushions. Your heart rate goes up a little as you hear footsteps coming near the door, and Patrick walks into the room, followed by a grinning Art. Patrick sits on the other side of the small couch, while Art snatches the remote from you and claims the armchair. 

“Any requests?” Art asks, flipping through the different streaming options. Neither you nor Patrick answer, so Art ends up flipping through the options before picking some random, terrible looking horror movie off Netflix. He turns off the room lights as the movie plays, and you curl into the couch. You can’t help but look over at Patrick, watching him stare at the screen, clearly deep in thought. 

You watch Patrick for a long moment, and although you can feels the alarms in your head waiting to go off, you just stay still. And you feel scared for a second, realizing just how unguarded you feel, and how easily you could just fall into Patrick’s hold. 

And for the second time that night, you cry. The tears stream silently down your face, and Patrick looks over as you wipe them off. And you just cry. You cry because you’re lonely, and you cry because it hurts that you just want to feel cared for so bad. And you cry because you wish you could’ve told Patrick or Art about your family, and you hate that you feel so damaged. You cry because you hate how Patrick and Art understand you so well, and you cry because you know that Patrick understands you because he feels it too. And you cry because you hate how much you’ve resisted Patrick, and that you didn’t let yourself even talk to him. And you cry because you regret pushing Patrick away so much, and you cry because you watched him open up for you, and you couldn’t do it for him. And you cry because you miss the way he touched you on that first night you met, and you cry because you feel dumb for crying.

And Patrick can’t help but just look over at you, your knees curled into your chest as you cry. And he doesn’t know what you’d want him to do. He’s never seen you cry like this, and he can tell how much it hurts to cry in front of him. “Hey,” he whispers, looking over at you, your face tucked into your knees, and for the first time, you seem so small. His gaze softens when you look up at him, letting him see your tear-stained face. And in that moment, the couch seems so big yet so small, and he just wants to hold you.

And Patrick can see Art out of the corner of his eye, observing the scene. And Art almost looks frozen in awe, looking at how his best friend looks at you, and how you look back at him. 

You and Patrick look at each other for a beat, when Patrick almost inaudibly whispers, “can I come closer?”

You nod, letting go of your knees pressed against your chest, and move closer to Patrick. And you can't help but meet his gaze again, as he leans in and scoops you up into his lap. And you’re curled up against him, your head his chest, as he wraps his arms around you and just holds you there. Patrick looks over to Art, who is now watching the movie intently, as he glances down at you, trying to make sure that you’re ok.

Art looks over at you two and can’t help but smile at the scene, seeing both Patrick’s tough act and your cold defenses just completely let down. But it’s really late, and he quietly gets up, whispering to both of you that he’s going to sleep and good night.

And wrapped up in Patrick’s arms, you let your eyes close and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his shoulder. And he holds you tighter. Patrick leaves a kiss on the top of your head, as you whisper, “Can we lie down? I’m tired”

Still refusing to let go of you, Patrick adjusts to lay across the couch, and you lay over him, as he holds you flush against his chest. As his arms wrap around you, he rubs circles across your back with one of his hands, and holds you tightly against the other. 

And you feel safe in his arms. And as you drift off to sleep, you feel that maybe, from now on, you won’t have to go through everything by yourself.

[whotookcheesuschrist]

I would like to add a couple of examples, more to outline this. I can't fucking remember the source for the former, but if you want tangible examples of this put into practice:

There was this female journalist and author, and to my immense shame I cannot remember her name, only that she moved from Norway to London at some point, who had this fantastic documentary detailing her meetings with the people who bashed her very existence, her being of Muslim heritage. She met them and asked them, face to face, why they hated her. The result of that was often really damn sad. With the exception of... I believe it was Rick Spencer (the neo nazi what got clocked on live television), most to all of them started having a really hard time justifying their politics, mainly because they thought she was. Quite alright, actually. Problem was that in these cases that just brought the same SynTax error we can see in interviews from the last week or so when moms voting for the Drump seemed to believe that their daughters was just misunderstanding things, like there was room for discussion for what the problem was. (Leopard eating faces-meme.) It also highlighted just how lonely a lot of those guys were; they had essentially isolated themselves into a very, very lonely existence where nothing else but the Qanon-bullshit existed. (See also, Sacha Baron Cohen regaling what he experienced when he in-character was taken in by Q-anon boys and spent the night in their place.)

We have a trial in France right now which might be the most explicit and unquestionable rape cases in history. These men had to be dragged to the courts, forced to watch the irrefutable evidence they themselves taped along with the entire damn nation, and that's, that's the point where any of the fuckers felt shame for themselves. There was nowhere to run at all. Think about just how hard it is to capture these people like that. Think about how many to one that is to make them stop deflecting.

Point is, we've got a lot of work ahead of us.

I also think it's worth noting that, under the age of Obama's presidency and such where a lot of protection started to be written down on paper more akin to what we will now, sadly, remember the Biden administration for as the good old days (among a LOT of things, for good and bad)... how many years of pushing and nudges did it take to get there? And yet after years those protection came to pass anyway. Think through what needs to be done, then don't give up.

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[controlsy]

These are the main characters of the story! A Spinch scientist in the mountain town of Ragus Kaep named Dr. Hawk wanted to do something no scientists had ever done before, which was create an entirely new form of life. Though he succeeded, it didn't go how he thought it would.

His intentions were to make an ESPer robanthry who could take in every piece of information imaginable. Verge N. 1 was his first attempt at this. Verge is effectively a "technology ESPer" which means he can read all data from every piece of technology. As an example, looking at a phone he could read through its entire message history, its browsing history, every app it has, every contact, and every voicemail. However, unlike regular ESPers, he cannot read the intentions behind messages that are sent.

Hawk considered Verge to be on the brink (or verge) of success, but not good enough, so he created Verse N. 2, who was the second attempt. Verse is exactly what he wanted- he can not only read technology, but also the minds of regular anthries and every living thing. Verse is, quite literally, the most dangerous thing that has ever lived on Spinch.

Hawk's intentions were bad- he wanted to use them for evil gains, but he didn't anticipate how much free will they'd have, and instead of being able to use their abilities for wrongdoing, he simply puts them through testing and tasks and experiments to see what they are capable of. He controls their lives.

Verse resents their creator because he doesn't view either of them as actual people, and he's full of bitterness and anger. Verge doesn't like Hawk either, but he also has a SERIOUS complex about the fact he's literally the "failure" of the project, while Verse is the "success". Verge and Verse are also technically the same person in their programming- Verse is simply an "improved" edition of Verge. Hawk just built them with different appearances to differentiate them. Both of them also have huge identity issues and want to be their own people and don't like that they're the same person... at least most of the time, when sometimes Verge falls into the wish that they WERE literally the same because Verse is "better" than him.

ESPer robanthries are different from regular anthries in one major way. They have the ability to control their powers instead of it being non-stop and un-mutable. One aspect of robanthry biology is the fact that, since they are computers, all of their "senses" are just programs, so they can turn them on and off. They can turn off their hearing, their sight, their voice, or their sense of touch at any time. The ESPer sense is technically just another program, so they can turn that off too.

I hope you guys like them!!!

[tossawary]

I'm reviewing episode transcripts from "Merlin" to build up my worldbuilding document (character list, mostly) and, a little ways into S2, I'm kind of feeling like the show is actually quite mean to Arthur as a character sometimes? S1 E14: "To Kill the King" is one of those episodes where I forget how badly it pissed me off until I run into it again.

Like, don't get me wrong, Arthur can be a bully, entitled, hotheaded, and reckless, but he's also at this point risked his own life to save people multiple times. Both individuals whose lives were "worth less" than his own (getting the Mortaeus flower for a poisoned Merlin, smuggling Mordred out of the city, protecting Ealdor from bandits) and also Camelot as a whole (fighting the plague-causing monster in the sewers, fighting the mam-eating griffin, drinking poison to lift the unicorn curse).

Arthur is giving me vibes of being both bored and frustrated (and probably not able to name those feelings or exactly why he has them) because he wants so badly to do good things, but he's not really sure how to go about it because (no one ever tells him anything, he almost NEVER knows what's really going on to make informed choices, and) he's also stuck under the thumb of his tyrannical father, who spends most of their scenes together berating Arthur for being too merciful, for not being dutiful enough, and/or not finding sorcerers for execution fast enough. When Arthur tries to be fair-minded and compassionate, Uther often essentially tells him that he's going to be a weak king with that attitude.

Arthur's pathways to betterment are limited, his parent and role model and boss here is an AWFUL person, but he's trying!

So, it's quite frustrating to get to this one episode where characters like Gaius (extremely biased, admittedly, clearly not an objective individual) are saying things like: "Arthur's not ready. The responsibility would be too great. Brave though he may be, he lacks experience, he lacks judgement."

Like, I don't know, Arthur may be only 21 and kind of a dipshit, but I personally think he'd still do a better job than the guy who tried to kill a kid (Mordred) just for existing a few episodes ago? Maybe? Gwen's father, who wasn't even a sorcerer or knowingly working with one, is dead explicitly because of Uther's awful laws. Did everyone in this episode forget that Uther tried to BURN GWEN ALIVE AT THE STAKE not that long ago (Episode 3)?

ARTHUR: "[Morgana]'s right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen."

UTHER: "You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments."

ARTHUR: "Yes, maybe. But to save her dying father, that doesn't make [Gwen] guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of, of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart."

UTHER: "I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish."

ARTHUR: "I understand that."

UTHER: "One day you may become King. Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom."

ARTHUR: "I know. Witchcraft is an evil, father. So is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

UTHER: "I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire."

When the adult druid (Cerdan) accompanying Mordred is killed (Episode 8), Arthur objects afterwards! On his own! While Arthur is sometimes an active participant in Uther's tyranny and otherwise complicit, he's been told all of his life that magic is inherently evil and corrupting, he was raised by the very man spreading this hateful philosophy, he should probably hate magic more than anyone after Uther, and yet he still disagrees with Uther's methods and judgments. Even though Uther is apparently VERY willing to lock both his son (Episode 4) and his ward (Episode 8) in the dungeons for disagreeing with him and disobeying him!

ARTHUR: The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?

UTHER: Absolutely necessary. Those who use magic cannot be tolerated.

ARTHUR: The Druids are a peaceful people.

UTHER: Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom. They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak.

ARTHUR: Showing mercy can be a sign of strength.

UTHER: Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city.

Obviously, running a kingdom is complicated! Uther apparently won Camelot by conquest and is in conflict with many of the neighboring kings, including Odin and Cenred, and likely has more of the respect of the local nobility than young Arthur does. Uther's death would create some instability! (Agravaine de Bois hasn't been created yet, but let's assume there are many other potential vultures.)

But the show generally isn't pushing that angle. This isn't really about smooth transitions of power. Personally, concerning Arthur's "lack of judgment", I do find his ready conviction that it is his duty to die for Camelot's honor if necessary (he says as much to Merlin explicitly before fighting Valiant in Episode 2, then again before fighting the Black Knight in Episode 9) more than a little concerning, but that doesn't seem to be angle pushed here either.

The show has characters (Merlin, Gwen, Gaius) suggesting that offing the King, who regularly kills innocent people whether they have magic or not, who has forbidden use of the tool that might have saved innocent people from Nimueh's plague or the wraith of Tristan de Bois, would be wrong! It would be murder and murder is bad! It would make (in the words of a grieving Gwen) her "just as bad" as him.

Even though Merlin has at this point already killed Aulfric and Sophia (Episode 7), as well as Mary Collins (Episode 1) because they were trying to kill Arthur. And arguably got an assist with Valiant (Episode 2). And will kill many more as the show goes on. This conversation with Kilgharrah in S1 E14 is in many ways so, so funny:

KILGHARRAH: Well, young warlock, what is it you come to ask of me?

MERLIN: I need your help.

KILGHARRAH: Of course you do, but this time, will you heed my words?

MERLIN: The sorcerer Tauren is plotting to kill the King. He's made an ally of Morgana. I don't know what to do!

KILGHARRAH: Do… nothing.

MERLIN: What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die.

KILGHARRAH: Don't you want Uther dead? It is Uther that persecutes you and your kind, Merlin. It is Uther that murders the innocent…

MERLIN: But surely that doesn't make it right to kill him.

KILGHARRAH: Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny!

[The dragon flies off.]

MERLIN: Wait! Where does it say my destiny includes murder?

KILGHARRAH: Free this land from tyranny, Merlin! Free us all!

I feel for Kilgharrah here. He was VERY straightforward. I don't know how he could have been clearer about this.

I won't say that Merlin's character writing doesn't make ANY sense here (I do think the character writing in this show is NOT amazingly consistent), because... he IS being influenced by Gaius, who is, unfortunately, a bootlicker and also probably extremely traumatized by all of the death he's seen (big contributor of the bootlicking) (also, apparently Gaius only becomes a "freeman" at the end of Episode 6, so there's that). And Merlin is also being heavily influenced by Arthur, who loves his father, despite everything. For Arthur's sake, if no one else's, Merlin will go out of his way to save Uther. Sure! That tracks!

Merlin spends a lot of time in this show protecting a terrible status quo under some assumption that Camelot will... somehow suddenly become better under Arthur? Instead of perhaps eventually just trusting Arthur and talking to him after their years of knowing each other? There are several, in-world reasons for this and I don't think they're all unrealistic! It's tense! It's thrilling sometimes!

(Though I am ultimately a little annoyed that Merlin's many secrets never really come out and get dealt with by the characters, because that would have been fun drama and some resolution to all the tension, even if the story did still end in death.)

There's some tasty tragedy in this silly show, in many ways. Merlin is confused and conflicted and scared and without clear guidance in many ways. Kilgharrah is mysterious and not at all reassuring. Gaius is complacent and (very reasonably) incredibly secretive. Merlin doesn't get to see many of the moments where Arthur speaks up for magical people and tries to talk Uther down. Morgana and Arthur are both stuck here in a "The hands that cradled you are covered in an unimaginable amount of blood." "But they cradled me, yes?" nightmare scenario. (There's also a sexist element where male characters like Gaius and Merlin won't let Morgana know about her own powers "for her own good" in a gaslight-y way that's fascinating to me in how it creates a villain.)

But, also, the compelling tragic elements here don't make certain episodes any less frustrating to watch in their execution. (I don't think villains being frustrating to watch or read necessarily makes them effective villains, especially when what I really find annoying here is the heroes' reactions to the villain. Uther has killed SO MANY PEOPLE! FOR NO REASON!) Especially when a lot of the overall results of this show often feel more accidental than purposeful. I do understand why the writers keep Uther around! He's a formidable antagonist to have looming all over the place and the actor is fun.

But OOF, I felt that "Do... Nothing".

Merlin! MERLIN! LISTEN TO THE SCARY DRAGON! MERLIN, REMEMBER THAT TIME UTHER TRIED TO BURN GWEN ALIVE??? JUST BECAUSE GWEN IS TOO NICE TO GO AFTER UTHER WITH A KNIFE AND TAKE REVENGE, IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY MEAN KILLING HIM MAKES YOU "JUST AS BAD"!!! MERLIN!!! YOU HAVE ALREADY MURDERED MULTIPLE PEOPLE WHO KILLED WAY LESS PEOPLE THAN UTHER!!!

In Episode 4, Morgana says to Uther: "You can't chain [Arthur] up every time he disagrees with you." This implies to me that Uther has had Arthur thrown in the dungeons before. In Episode 3, Arthur says to Morgana: "Father will slam us both in chains if he knew I'd endangered you," and maybe he wasn't at all joking with that? Arthur is rattling the bars of his cell here, apparently fairly ready to be aimed wherever Merlin points him, bucking against being aimed at innocents by his tyrant of a father.

But nooo, Gaius says Arthur is "not ready yet" because...??? He seems less hotheaded than Uther to me, honestly. Are his tax policies not up to par yet? You can hire a guy for that. Suggesting that Arthur would be in any way worse than His Majesty "Anyone Who Talks To A Sorcerer Gets Executed Even If They Didn't Know They Were A Sorcerer" feels quite mean to Arthur, really. I think he'd do alright, in comparison, Gaius who lies to the King every single day, but I suppose you sometimes want to be a loyal friend to good ol' King "Made Merlin Drink Poison That One Time And Wouldn't Let Anyone Go Get The Cure". Good for you. Bad for everyone else.

Like, I know, I know this show is not very deep. I like that all of the characters are flawed and fumble a lot! I even kind of enjoy that it ultimately ends in death with so many loose emotional threads. It is a weekly burst of fantasy nonsense that is not especially concerned with consistency in worldbuilding or characters from episode to episode. But the executive discrepancies here are, like the ones in "Star Wars", weirdly fascinating with all of the holes and wobbly bits it creates.

This show: "Yes, our hero has once again saved the tyrannical king who kills innocents! Preventing the oblivious prince from assuming the throne and trying to do better as he so clearly wants to do! Good work, Merlin, taking the high road (which involved murdering the rightfully angry people trying to kill the tyrannical king) again!"

Me, every time: "...I am genuinely not sure how the show wants us to interpret this. What did they think they were doing with this? Was this always meant to be a tragedy from the first season? Because personally, I'm getting some kind of tragedy from this."

[canonically47]

i don’t like how almost the entire fandom is on jimmy’s ass but loves curly. while jimmy undoubtedly did worse things, curly PROTECTED HIM. you cannot stand there at your computer and type straight-faced about how ‘jimmy is a horrible monster!! ...but curly could treat anya sooooo well’ like HUH??? this game is NOT about how jimmy is the worst person alive ever WITHOUT also the message of curly being AT LEAST half as bad.

because HE KNEW. and i think this is also beautifully represented through his design. he chose to turn a blind eye to anya’s struggles, HE CHOSE TO NOT SEE, and then, after the crash, he found himself with one eye constantly open, FORCED TO SEE. and by god did he see. he saw, first-hand, how protecting his absolute bastard of a friend led to the death of the entire crew and their prolonged sufferring. i saw one person suggest that the scene in which swansea kills daisuke could be from curly’s POV since it aligns perfectly with the hallway and the look he would get of the scene.

so curly, who once always protected his friend and turned a blind eye to his misdemeanors, is now forced to see these terrible events unfold firsthand. because guess what? it’s about half of curly’s fault for these events jimmy creates. because he could have prevented so much if only he wasn’t part of this toxic culture of males protecting each others from the consequences of their own actions.

now before i get any angry comments or reblogs: i do not despise curly. i do not even despise jimmy as a character. i condemn their actions 110%, ESPECIALLY jimmy’s - but i think they’re such deep and shockingly real, raw depictions of humans that not only could, but DO exist. as concepts and characters, i admire wrong organ for their bravery to create them into existence - and i hate them as people. again, they are representatives of the toxic culture males have in which they protect each other (“my buddy couldn’t have raped/SA’d/etc her because i know him and he wouldn’t do that!!” etc etc.) and it is so upsetting but so necessarry to witness this. i just wish the fandom would be willing to witness it fully, not just go “FUCK JIMMY” “so sorry you had to draw jimmy” while simultaneously pushing out curly x reader or saying shit like “curly just wanted everyone to be happy :(” “curly would treat anya better” etc etc.

this is such a raw and real story once again ruined by a fandom whose minds are rotted by hehe hot man, toxic yaoi, and amatonormativity. and yea that sounds funny when you read it but so many of the messages of the game are ignored in favor of all the above. i’m tired of it!!!

TL;DR: i condemn both jimmy AND curly’s actions and i think that you guys should not give curly a pass for protecting jimmy. if you’re going to call jimmy a horrible fucked-up monster, acknowledge that curly enabled him time and time again. also stop shipping people this is Not That Kinda Story ffs (from a tired aromantic)

[ashbeneviento]

Hey so ✨rant time✨ about the village fandom (again, sorry y’all)

This post will contain dark themes so TW:R*pe, Dubious consent, kinks such as somno under the ***

*****************************************************

It’s totally fine to not be into CNC, or related kinks such as somno or DC. It’s totally fine to not want to read about them either! HOWEVER

What is not fine is to pretend that properly tagged fics are out there to get you. You see the tag, you move on. You aren’t exposed to it unless you CLICK. TO. READ. THEM. It’s not fine to proclaim that we are doing a disservice to the characters by writing them in such ways. It’s also not a disservice to actual victims to enjoy, or even write about said themes. Most of the people who write these fics, if not all, are victims themselves. Most of the people who enjoy reading these fics are also victims. I am one of those people! It is not only a healthy outlet for me, it’s also just.. normal? To have these kinks. (Also sometimes the story includes it purely for plot purposes and isn’t always the main theme for the story)

Keep in mind that these are villains who torture and canonically murder innocent people. They are mutants, creatures, monsters..that alone is “taboo” if you find them attractive. They aren’t sunshine and rainbows, y’all. They are going to do dark, villainous things because they are dark and villainous. I enjoy the soft, fluffy and sweet HC’s too. And when I want to read those I purposely search for those tags. You have tools to work around your triggers. Tag blocking, muted words, filtered searches that will take you to your destination. If you happen to see tags that you don’t vibe with, it is your responsibility to scroll. What we aren’t going to do is try and dictate what “safe media” is because that leads down a very slippery slope of censorship.

And I get it! I used to feel the same way. This isn’t me being like “the real world doesn’t have trigger warnings” because it absolutely does. What matters is what you do with them, though. You cannot prepare yourself for them happening out of your control, no…and it sucks when media doesn’t properly inform you of its content, but it’s your responsibility to practice online safety as well. Tags are a great example of putting it into practice.

It’s just kinda off to be surprised that a fandom for a horror game that includes really evil characters.. writes them as evil? We all experience our traumas differently and there’s no right or wrong way unless you are purposefully hurting others. Hopefully this doesn’t come across as mean but I genuinely hope my message gets through.

Thank you and good time zone to you all

[njwinterquartz]

I don’t know if the show will actually do it but I really need them to have Buck fight for a relationship for goddamn once. Especially this one, this one makes the most damn sense to fight for. They broke up because they both feel so deeply for each other.

I can get him having an episode or two to mope around because of the shock of it. But after that I NEED Buck to fight for the relationship. Like I will be pissed if he doesn’t because after how many goddamn seasons of this man wanting and yearning for something does it take to finally have some damn growth in his character around it.

I will not be watching the episodes live because I cannot take hearing them have Buck just let this relationship go after not fighting for it. I’ll see what everyone has to say about it. But I’m not watching to see if Oliver and Tim are actually doing the “will they won’t they” (Oliver) or the “find out who he is and who he wants to be with” (Tim). They’ve lost all trust from me.

[ensifervm]

Am I the only one who noticed the bad pacing in this season?

Don't get me wrong, the season is good, the animation and music astonishing, but I just think that things are happening too fast. Characters literally change their minds and attitude in the same episode, and I'm not saying that it's out of character because it fits them and their journey, but it still feels rushed. I would have NEVER imagined to see Vi accepting the badge in the FIRST episode, and even if you know why she did it, I think she needed some time to reorganize her mind after what just happened. Another example? Vi literally asked Caitlyn "not to change" ten minutes before the scene in which Caitlyn literally "changes" and leaves her broke down in tears. It's out of character for her to "change"? Nope, but it just happens too fast, and the viewer doesn't even have the time to fully empathize with the characters. The same happened when Viktor broke free from his "coma" state and told Jayce "allright, I'm gonna go" with a blank stare, and Jayce just remained there because he apparently knew that Viktor needed to go because of plot reasons. The writers surely know where they're going, but at the sime time it seems that they want to do it as fast as possible, without taking the time to fully explore characters reasons and motivations. I remember that I was literally devastated after the end of the first season's Act 1, because the sisters "breakup" came after two and a half episodes in which we can clearly see and understand the depth of their bond. In this season I just cannot feel the same, because things happens too fast and sometimes even just for plot reasons.

[robinprinceofchaos]

ight ima correct all this:

(don't read if ur asmi cause I want you to be clueless)

1. Started 1963, rebooted 2005 (✅)

Showrunner was Russel T Davies.

2. 15 doctors ✅

(technically canonically Jodie Whitaker doctor IS lesbian but it's all personal preference)

3. There's someone called the master.✅

Intense sexual tension.✅

4.Emo - to be debated. Idk what music the master listens to.

5. They all have intense trauma✅ 15th doctor girlbossed it✅ (15th doctor still has trauma even after the girl bossing tho)

6. Donna played by Catherine Tate ✅ Catherine Tate knows less about doctor who than asmi ✅

7. The tenth doctor wipes Donna's memory because she became Doctor Donna and could have died because her feeble human body can't cope. And then the fourteenth doctor meets Donna AGAIN after even more trauma and bigenerates and then goes to dinner with the Nobles (Donna's family) and is like 'guess this is my life now'.

8. Correct. ✅

9.all the doctors are in love with rose and you can't change my mind. She is a thread weaving through their-

*ahem anyway*

10. Human Au is tentoo✅

NuWho or New Who means doctor who after the 2005 reboot.

11. There is something called the TARDIS ✅

It is bigger on the inside ✅

( I cannot confirm whether asmi had a dream about the TARDIS or not.)

12. ...the French revolution? Uhm. Ok sure ig. I can't be bothered to go back and check what time its set. But I don't think it's in France. So.

13. Sure.

14. Correct.✅

15. Correct again ( refer to my amazing speech that I PERFORMED TODAY;?!!? for more.) ✅

16. ...this is a generalized statement but I'll give the mark.✅

17...that is a matter of personal preference. Uh.

18. Meeps pronouns are meep.✅ (Canon neopronoun character anyone?) Meep is not friend✅ (Meep is friend shaped cause y'know if Meep wasn't then they wouldn't have a plot for an episode so.)

19. If you're talking about Cassandra, she's only her butt cheeks in one of the 2 episodes she's in.

*strolls into tumblr and falls on my face pretending I haven't been missing for like a month I was out getting the milk hello maggots*

Doctor Who But I've Never Watched It 2.0

For those of you feeling deja vu YES I HAVE MADE POSTS ON DOCTOR WHO BEFORE OKAY but back then I was a young uneducated lad, just a fresh blossom unfucked by tumblr. Now I am surrounded by you lot and by god do y'all love Doctor Who. And I am Educated. My DW virginity is deflowered. All that.

SO HERE WE GO, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SHOW I'VE NEVER WATCHED:

The show started in 1963, and then was rebooted in 2005 and the showrunner was... Robert de Neiro? Idk all I know is he gives Pedro Pascal vibes. Like his name. His name is Robert.

There have been 15 Doctors so far. One is a lesbian and it is not Jodie Whittaker, it is actually the 12th doctor.

There's someone called the Master. I don't know what that means, or if it's some kind of BDSM thing, but he has intense sexual tension with the Doctor.

He's also emo and has bleached hair and is kinda babygirl. And is called Missy.

The Doctors all have intense trauma and the 15th Doctor kind of girlbossed it by leaving David Tennant intact when they binary-fissioned.

Donna is a person played by Catherine... Tate? Not Hepburn. And she knows less about Doctor Who than I do. And Donna is in a QPR with the David Doctors (there are two of them).

David Doctor loves Donna very much. And then he kills her. But doesn't kill her. And then they have dinner together with her husband and kid.

The original show had shitty effects. The new show does too, and everyone is happy about this.

Rose is someone the David Doctor is in love with and then she ends up with a human AU of him and he leaves and the fans are very divided and passionate about this.

The human AU is called Tentoo because y'all hate using W's. What the fuck is Tentoo. What is Nuwho. Why isn't it New and Two. Help me.

THERE IS SOMETHING CALLED THE TARDIS, IT IS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE, I HAVE HAD WEIRD DREAMS WHERE IT WAS A FUCKING AUTO-RICKSHAW WITH RIBBONS FOR SEATBELTS, AND IT IS BLUE AND NOT YELLOW BUT IT WAS YELLOW IN MY DREAM. Because of a Drarry fanfic that I misread.

The 15th doctor dances homoerotically with someone during the French Revolution.

The 9th doctor kinda vibes with like his head jiggling idk I've only seen one gif of him.

The 13th doctor keeps forgetting she's in a woman's body.

It is all very gay.

David Tennant's arms are too long.

The sexiest person is a head.

The Meep's pronouns are Meep. Meep is not friend. IF NOT FRIEND THEN WHY FRIEND SHAPED??????

A buttcheek skin talks or something yeah this is all I got.

have at it y'all @robinprinceofchaos @multidimensional-trashcan @wispedvellichor @queermarzipan thanks for the second hand brainrot

*sneaks away under the cover of night* i was never here

[topazadine]

Right now you can download my book for (and I cannot stress this enough) FREE

Leave one word. Leave two words. Leave a sentence maybe. That's all. You get 51,000 beautiful words for free.

But what, pray tell, is the book about? I will tell you so you don't even have to click on the above link (but it's there too as well).

Orrinir Relickim received an unusual wedding present from his husband, Uileac Korviridi: Bannain, a disobedient horse who seems determined to end his marriage. With a single kick to the chest, Uileac is out of commission from work at the War Academy, where both men serve as soldiers. Worse still, the entire country is preparing for Feast of the Horse, meant to reflect their country's rich nomadic heritage. Visitors are surging into the capital city and its suburb from all across the realm, where festivities will highlight both the army's strength and the beauty of High Poetry, their native magic system. Uileac was poised to perform dramatic feats of archery while Orrinir marched with the infantry, tasks now impossible given his serious injury. Both are forced to focus on the archer's precarious health - and on the unpleasant facets of their relationship neither wish to consider. This second installation in the 10-part Eirenic Verses series delves deeper into the country of Breme, whose existence hinges upon power-infused poetry. Featuring a greater focus on both the characters and the world they live in, Pride Before a Fall will delight readers of 9 Years Yearning, who have come to love Orrinir, Uileac, and their friends. Luscious prose will whisk you away into a realm melding realism and fantasy for a unique reading experience.

There is no catch. There is no cost. There is just Book. For. Free.

The deadline is November 30th, and there are only 40 SPOTS LEFT. So start now. Read now. Claim now. Do it now.

If you do like the book and want to support me because I'm such a lovely creature, then you can also preorder it at this link.

Also please reblog this so that other people can hear about this fantastic opportunity for free literature with cute boys and asshole horses.

[e--va-n-e-sc-e]

just a little motivation for myself

you cannot have your cake and eat it too

you can't have what you want without sacrificing something else

if a cake costs a dollar, you either buy the cake and keep the dollar, or keep the dollar and not have the cake.

the time will pass anyway

remember which desire is number 1, think about which desire is strongest. fo0d, or b0nes?

are you willing to pay the price? think about how strong you will have to be to deny a basic human function. which desire is greatest? fo0d, or b0nes?

think now, and ask yourself now before you make a resolution, before you find out too late what you will have to give up.

keep lying to others to stay true to yourself.

to reach your goal, you have to have a level of narcissism, evan. you need to realize that your goal is only pertaining to you. only you have to restr1ct. only YOU can can reach YOUR goal. you are only letting yourself down, nobody else. fo0d, or b0nes?

to get sk1nny is a well thought out plan that will not happen instantly. the price you are paying for delayed gratification, (mirror image, b0nes, cart) is that of the instant gratification. (bud and fo0d.)

are you willing?

to let the time pass anyway?

the ultimate form of willpower

when popular language says that a man is a slave to his desires, it means that he acts upon the cravings and impulses that from time to time arise. though, in retrospect he will know that such actions would never be done by the kind of character he wants to be.

when popular language says that a man is the master of his own desires, that he keeps them on a leash, and under his own control, it means that this desire, to be a certain kind of character, is at all times vivid and powerful enough to be acted upon in preference to any other fleeting desires.

it is not because your desires are too strong, it is that your conscience is too weak, build your conscience by staying true to yourself and putting the thoughts of food away. keep the promise to yourself and you will have to fail less, if you fail less you'll be less likely to repeat the shame cycle, building your conscience.

don't let your vision of who you want to be to weaken, don't let the colors of real life be duller than those of the painting.

willpower is tied to your ideal self

strong willpower resists fleeting desires

influenced by and partially quoted from Henry Hazlitt "The Way To Will-Power"

[azaharinflames]

I’m loving your theories on the whole BuckTommy (sorry Lou ilu but the name BuckTommy has stuck with me) arc. So I have to ask… why do you think people (read: fandom people) are convinced this is the last season? I really don’t see ABC/Disney undertaking this big of a show (money and following wise) and being like “yeah we’ll put time and effort into this production, but only for one season”

Thank you! Glad you love them, I feel slightly less of a clown when people understand how I think lol. Also - I was rooting for Tevan hard, and even Firefly, but I've accepted Bucktommy and now it has a special place in my heart.

As for your question... I think it all comes to change.

Let me explain. For shows to have a long life, they have to change. They have to evolve. We cannot feel as if we are tuning in to the same thing every week, especially when the same thing has long become boring. I will put Modern Family (my ultimate comfort show) as an example: the whole eleven seasons are of constant change. We are growing with the characters, we are happy, frustrated, sad, whatever, with their actions and choices. And because they are changing, we want to tune in next week to see what will be next.

911 has a severe issue of lack of change. The characters go through these cycles constantly; we said Buck was in a hamster wheel, but the truth is that every single character is in there, too. The writers are somehow unable to find new storylines or conflicts, that aren't what we have seen already, only this time with a new context.

This is partly the reason why so many people, and why a big part of the GA, latched onto Tommy and BuckTommy so quickly - because they were a breath of fresh air, and they felt like the much-needed novelty we were all expecting. If we don't have them, we go to the same repetitive stories - with Buck, but with everyone else, too, to be honest.

And if there is no change... people get bored. There are just so many times you can see Henren on the brink of losing their kids, or Buck trying to find the one (it's stopped being cute, especially when he just had the perfect partner for him walk away), Eddie being unable to move on or forget Shannon (because as much as he's 'better' - has he actually dealt with it?), Madney having either a kid storyline or a Dough-influenced storyline, Bathena having issues with communicating... eight seasons is a long time of this. And unless they change it up, just how much longer can they go? We joke about Grey's sometimes, but the fact is that they are constantly changing.

So. That's partly it.

But (without wanting to make this a whole novel), there were also rumors that some cast was hesitant to continue. Take this with a grain of salt, please, but rumor has it that Peter was kind of ready to walk away a while ago. He even has said in interviews he cannot do this for much longer, as 911 is a very exigent show to shoot. He even wanted Bobby to be killed off at the S7 opening emergency. Angela has also expressed a desire to be on Broadway, so that could also be conflicting. Again, take it with a grain of salt.

And as for ABC - you're right, they bought 911. But with the upcoming spin-off, one can't help but wonder if it is not complimentary but, rather, a substitute. Perhaps they are planning on moving someone from the OG there, who knows. The fact is that they managed to catch the audience's attention with the OG, enough that if they lose it but immediately have a variation of it, they might tune in. And this new show would be cheaper than OG is right now because let me tell you - it ain't cheap, as far as I am aware.

If you want my personal opinion on this - I am 50-50. I think it would be a very weird final season if this was the last, but I wouldn't be that surprised if we find out it is. I can see them going for a ninth season, but I cannot see them going further than a tenth, and that is being really generous. If they prove me wrong and are willing to adapt to change, I will happily eat my words.

PS: I do think if this is the last season, or even if we have it in the next couple of years, they could bring Tommy back (if they haven't yet), as a sort of rushed HEA. Kind of playing with the whole 'right person, wrong time', just bringing it to the right time finally.

Thanks for the ask <3

[melobin]

i think it’s funny? like the spaces thing? everything that girl said is what he gotten hate over the past few weeks. bitching about me writing about riize when everything was happening as if i was the only blog to do so? 😭 “she doesn’t see them as people only characters” and you can’t come and talk to me straight up and instead you have to go behind my back and bitch about me instead? like yes i found it stupid people were acting surprised about riize’s brand reputation falling when people are literally boycotting the group like we knew this was going to happen i don’t understand what’s wrong with me saying that but i digress.

people cannot handle sitting and discussing things with the people they have an issue with because they don’t want to deal with listening to proper and logical reasonings for things, instead they have to go to others who agree with them because they need validation.

yes i’m a smut writer, yes i posted about riize and seunghan during october. i also took a break from posting out of respect for them and so i could process everything that happened. i am most definitely not the only account who began posting smut about riize again so don’t fucking label me as some sort of villain when multiple blogs were doing it too and do not sit and accuse me of not viewing them as real people.

“she claims to be ot7” yeah ive also had to sit and explain to people why im so distant from my feelings and why i was so logical about this situation but slay i guess, melobin’s feelings and personal trauma doesn’t matter when you’re selfish 😚✌️ also bringing up ninona and saying the same thing as everyone else says because no one has any actual evidence or proof that she’s ot6 .. give it a rest

anyway i love you all im really not doing well right now so i haven’t been active but i just wanted to make a little post about it bc i saw the video and i just find it bizarre. thank you for being so patient with me and hopefully i’ll be able to feel a little brighter and be more active soon 💗

[esmereldapearl]

I feel like two things COULD happen in the TSATS sequel

SPOILER WARNING FOR TSATS, TOA, AND BASICALLY THE ENTIRE SERIES (especially Jason Grace)

(Also this is just a theory and what I think— if you have any ideas feel free to lmk— I really want to hear ideas on this stuff)

- I’ve said since I finished the first one that this whole thing with Nyx isn’t over yet. I don’t feel like it is— I feel like she’s not just going to stop where she is.

- Something will happen with Jason. I feel like this plot point has been opened since Apollo asked if it was Jason instead of Bob. I feel like the fact that Jason cannot be located is also something. There’s this part of me that would find it AWESOME if he was in Valhalla but also, Jason wouldn’t age if he were there. The difference between Magnus and Jason is that Magnus has his friends there with him— none of them will age. But Jason’s friends aren’t there— so he’d have to go through it the same way Thalia will.

(As a valgrace shipper— or even not as one, it would be painful to loose like that all over again)

I really like the point that @aroaceleovaldez brought up (hoping I tagged correctly)

Originally, I would’ve thought Orpheus until one of their posts. (Don’t know when it was posted, but they brought up how there are already at least three-ish parallels to Orpheus so maybe it wouldn’t be that way)

Nico was angry at Leo for what he pulled at the end of BoO— but that could’ve been because he didn’t tell him- but maybe also because Leo cheated death? Idk. But, if Nico is less inclined to pull strings— what if it comes up that he has to?

Like, last time, Nyx had made it so Nico had to revisit bad memories— what if it’s more? What if she brings Jason along for the ride— it’s the newest wound that Nico has.

So what if that leaves Nico with no choice but to bring Jason back somehow— for a while I wondered if Nico could like raise the dead and Will would heal them but I’m not sure that’s how it works.

But the biggest thing is that I don’t think it’s specifically known where Jason is and I feel like that could play a key role.

Jason has such a bad narrative— he’s down the same one Bianca had gone down. Their deaths were only in there to raise another character up. Apollo to change once he got back to Olympus and Nico to be a hero. This is a chance for Jason to have a new narrative— he had to live through the Jason in mythology’s story so what about rewriting his narrative. A chance to change the story.

Jason’s character was “boring” because Jason didn’t know who he was. Jason had no memories and didn’t have a personality. (Mean that nicely) The reason why all of the characters are lovable is because they have personalities that make them stand out.

My overall point is: I feel like Nyx is going to be bringing more trouble to Nico and Will. I feel like it may include Jason as well since it was sort of alluded to when they 1) Don’t know where he is and 2) Apollo and Nico both wondered if Jason would play a part into the original Tartarus expedition.