#I really hope its not as bad as all the reviews and essays and stuff make it out to be

[showtoonzfan]

One of the things I often hear amongst people who give out somewhat positive reviews for Hazbin/Helluva is "It has some mild flaws in its story and writing that those annoying critics are just blowing out of proportion." To some degree, I understand where they're coming from, but it makes me openly question: how flawed does a story's writing choices have to be until it's considered bad writing?

Is it when even if it's rushed and rough around the edges, is it still fun to watch? Is it when it's so distracting that you can't ignore it? At what point is it just watching a car crash in slow motion, rather than actually engaging with the story? I know you can only answer with your own thoughts as a fellow critic, so I want this to be more open for others to comment.

I agree with what you’re saying, to me this situation reminds me of how some of the Spindle crew reacted to criticism, mainly the “everyone is saying the same thing over and over!”- when….yeah, that’s for a reason, and maybe if critics and even FANS keep constantly saying the same feedback over and over, then how long does it take you to realize that maybe you should actually fix those problems within the show because that’s what the writing needs?

No one really wants to admit it but more and more fans are getting tired of the issues in Helluva, that’s why so many more critical videos keep popping up every day and more people are starting to get comfortable enough to talking about the issues it has on twitter. This is not only why the views are dropping, but why some fans are legit dropping the show because they’re tired of the story not improving or being more open minded all because of the writer’s stubbornness and ignorance. They try to say otherwise but they make it obvious that most of them have a hate boner for criticism, have no idea what it’s like being show runners/writers and lack thick skin.

I’ve seen so many fans and even the creators demonize the criticism by stating “more people need to learn to just enjoy media without being overly critical of every little thing!” And in some cases, yeah…that’s valid, obviously if you’re just torturing yourself consuming something without even having passion for it or enjoying yourself, then I agree. But again, this is where the ignorance from the creators and the fans come from. They don’t realize that some folks who are critical of the show are fans who WANT to see it get better and that’s why they’re providing criticism in the first place. People will make essay videos taking or ranting BECAUSE they have passion for it, that’s why so many people make critic blogs or even hate blogs towards Viv’s stuff because they’re passionate about it, and it’s a glaring issue today that the crew tries to roll any critic into the category of mindless trolls. Everyone has already said it before, but if you can’t take criticism and expect praise 24/7, then don’t become a show runner/creator, because that’s not how the real world works.

As for the audience, some are dropping the show, some are aware the show is flawed and are just staying to see where the trainwreck ends, some are still holding on to the hope that it’ll get better. All three decisions are valid so long as you have passion for it. For me I’ve lost all passion for this show, that’s why I’ll be dropping it after the Mammon episode because I can’t stick around any longer just to watch every character and concept get destroyed just to cater to two awful main characters and an awful romance, but I’m sure others will still be tuning in.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

For the short stories: Suburbia

This is... not under 500 words. Not even close. But I ended up really enjoying writing this one, so I hope you'll enjoy reading it!

Kirashino microfic #4/?: Suburbia

Shinobu is waiting for Kosaku when he comes out of his afternoon statistics class, even though they just saw each other yesterday. That’s not right. They only ever have dates on Tuesdays and Fridays, and sometimes the weekend, working around his courseload and her availability. Today, Monday, is uncharted territory.

“Hi, you,” she says, pulling him into a tight hug. “How was class? Did you get me anything?”

“Was I supposed to?” They’re blocking the entryway standing like this. Kosaku feels a flush creeping up his face as somebody jostles into him, but he doesn’t know how to ask her to move without being rude.

“Don’t you know what day it is?” Without waiting for a response, she adds: “It’s our six-month anniversary! Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Oh.” Was he supposed to be keeping track of that? Shinobu always feels a step ahead of him with this relationship stuff, always herding him towards milestones he only has the foggiest awareness of. It’s hard to keep up.

“You did forget, didn’t you? It’s fine. You can make it up to me tonight, right?”

“Right. Sorry. I, uh, I have another class in twenty minutes, but after that… uh…”

“We should go somewhere,” she says, smiling. Leading him.

“Yeah,” he says weakly. “We’ll go out. Anywhere you want.”

“Great.”

Kosaku usually spends his break alone, but it’s not so bad with Shinobu hanging around. She walks with him to the vending machine as he buys a drink, snuggles into his side as he reviews his notes, asks him for advice about an essay she’s trying to write. When it’s time to go, he leaves her in the hallway with a wave. She makes a heart with her hands.

Six months. That’s a pretty long time to have a girlfriend.

He’s not sure if they’ll make it another six. Shinobu is nice, but she’s kind of a handful.

---

Shinobu is at the door when Kosaku gets home from work, three hours later than he expected. That’s strange. She doesn’t usually wait up for him when he has to stay late.

“Hi,” Kosaku says cautiously. “Where’s my-“

“The same place it always is.”

His first thought is that she might have been watching a movie, but the tv is off, and she seems in no hurry to get back to it. She’s dressed nicer than usual, too, and as she takes his jacket and moves to the closet, he gets a whiff of cinnamony perfume. That’s weird, too. Did she go out somewhere?

Shinobu follows him into the kitchen, looking like she wants to say something as he checks the microwave and punches in a cook time.

“How was work?” she finally asks.

“Fine.”

And again, as he’s scrounging around for silverware: “Did anything interesting happen?”

“I don’t know. It was work.” He doesn’t know what to say to her most of the time, and especially not now. He’s tired and he’s hungry and he’s been talking to people all day. Why is she here, anyways? What does she want from him?

Kosaku’s gaze meanders away from her face as he waits for the microwave to finish, towards the counter, then the floor, landing on a smear of dark grit streaked over a few tiles. There. That’s something they can talk about. “Honey?”

“Yes?”

“The floor’s getting pretty dirty. I think you should run the vacuum soon.”

Now she has that look on her face. That disappointed, contemptuous, slightly pissy expression that makes him want to crawl under a rock. He tries to backpedal as she storms out of the kitchen, slamming the door open hard enough to make it rattle it in its frame.

“You don’t have to-“

“No, I’ll do it now!” she shoots back. “That’s all I’m good for, right? Cleaning up your mess?”

Technically, it’s not his mess. He’s barely been home this week. But there’s no reasoning with her when she gets this way, so Kosaku takes his dinner to the table and tries to ignore the high whine of the vacuum cleaner and the thump of Shinobu banging furniture around.

What’s her problem? If he was falling behind at work, he’d want his boss to say something. She takes everything so personally.

His first bite floods his mouth with slimy, earthy bitterness, like he took a big mouthful of dirt. Kosaku winces, takes his napkin and spits, seeing for the first time the rubbery brown chop mixed into the rice and vegetables.

He’s told her so many times how much he doesn’t like mushrooms. Did she think he wouldn’t notice if she cut them up small?

She really is too much, sometimes.

---

Kira is awake, waiting for Shinobu when she finally comes to bed half an hour later than her usual. That’s suspicious. Most days she falls asleep first, forcing him to navigate the bedroom in total darkness when he’s done making his rounds.

She’s been acting off all day, quiet and withdrawn, and it’s making him nervous. He runs through every possible scenario, searching for reassurance that it isn’t something he’s done to tip her off to his identity. He hasn’t killed anyone. Their bills are being paid on time. She definitely hasn’t discovered the cat plant. He’s been watching her carefully, making sure she doesn’t have to go anywhere near the attic.

Unless she went up there while he was at work. She has so much time to poke around the house when he isn’t there to watch her. Raw, unabashed paranoia galvanizes his exhausted body into action, makes him touch her shoulder softly to gauge her reaction.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, keeping his voice low. Playing the role of a nice, normal husband.

“I think so. I’m just tired, I guess.”

She does sound tired, but it’s not enough to assuage his fears. Even when she reaches back to place her hand on top of his, it’s not enough. Kira tries to think of something to say, to distract her from whatever chain of thought she might be following that ends in his discovery.

“I saw on the calendar. It’s our anniversary tomorrow, isn’t it?”

She doesn’t respond.

“There’s a new Italian place I’ve heard good things about,” he continues, trying to sound confident. “I’ll get off work early and we can have a nice dinner out, just the two of us. How’s that sound?”

It’s the most boring, bog-standard way to celebrate an anniversary, but Kosaku was the most boring, bog-standard kind of person. Kira doesn’t know her well enough for a personal gift, and his usual way of doing things seems a tad unorthodox for the lifestyle he’s currently living. Italian food it is.

“I’d really like that,” Shinobu says. “Thank you.”

There. If she was suspicious, she wouldn’t be making dinner plans, would she? She wouldn’t sound so genuinely grateful. “I’ll make a reservation tomorrow.”

She squeezes his hand, hard, and Kira lets her, tactfully ignoring the soft sniffle that follows.

He really doesn’t get this woman.

[maarigolds]

If I wanted to feel less worried about a renewal what facts are looking good for Lockwood and Co? Things in their favor?

Ok look I'm definitely the wrong person to ask this to because I'm usually a staunch pessimist but-

There are a few things that do give me hope*:

*and when I say a few I actually mean here's 1k word essay bc I'm slowly going crazy. You're welcome.

The numbers are not fantastic, but they're not bad either. I feel like we keep on saying that we need more views (and we do. we always do.) but the situation is really not that terrible. We're somewhere in the middle, actually. The show is not super popular online, so it feels like people didn't watch it, but they did, they're just not talking about online as much as I wish they would. Also, as we've already said many times, there are quite a few netflix shows that have a similar budget to l&co that have been renewed for a second season despite having lower views (locke&key, winx, warrior nun).

The show is British. I know that this might sound weird as a reason why it should be renewed, but hear me out: the show is definitely targeted towards brits and all the press they did was in the uk. That's the main audience netflix is interested in, and the show has done pretty damn good over there. The numbers are lower in other countries because netflix didn't fucking promote the show anywhere else- but that's a story for another day.

Joe Cornish is planning to only do 3 seasons. The story is already there, it fits neatly into a three seasons run, and netflix knows this. It's not like Joe is setting up a high budget show that, if people like, could take 7 seasons and 12 years to make (like sense8 was, for example). Plans have been made already to make three seasons, and that means that, when netflix greenlit the first season, they already knew how much the whole thing would cost. it's a much safer bet for them. It was the same thing for Locke&key, and they got the three seasons they wanted.

The pandemic is pretty much over (it's really not, but as far as netflix is concerned it is). Netflix has cancelled a shitload of stuff lately, we know this, much more than other streaming platforms did. However, one of the reasons why that happened, was the pandemic. All production was stopped and that meant that either shows couldn't physically be made, or that it took so long for them to come back that people had lost interest. Luckily that's not the case anymore, so maybe the number of cancelled shows will go down in the next year.

The production is shared with Joe Cornish's company, complete fiction. That always helps. Also its called complete fiction so fucKING COMPLETE THE SHOW YOU COWARDS

The reviews are good. Not that it matters all that much with netflix, but surely it's a positive.

I really really want it so bad. Please.

Ok I'm done cause I have to go to class in like 15 minutes so yeah

Keep streaming the show in the background. Tell everyone about it (but don't be obnoxious cause that never works). Make art and videos and gifs and fanfics and analysis and anything you feel like doing. Because every little thing helps 💙🖤🧡

[ustrinamor]

Me the other day, wanting to write Katriel but I haven’t read the actual novel so I’m scared I’ll butcher her characterization: oh I....better....not....

*hours of research leads to me discovering that the characterization in the book was all over the place and not even entirely present for Katriel and she is reduced to tropes and is more defined by her looks than her personality in the eyes of the narrator and her potential is wasted under a male-centric lens*

Me, rubbing my grubby little canon divergent hands together:

*to the tune of Ghostbusters*

When a badass girl

is ruined for the male gaze

g u e s s   w h a t   I ’ l l   u s e ?

*＊✿❀✿＊* *＊✿❀❀✿＊* *＊✿❀✿＊*

・.・゜゜・ H E A D C A N O N S ・゜゜・.・

*＊✿❀✿＊* *＊✿❀❀✿＊* *＊✿❀✿＊*

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: “The Black Gate Opens”

What’s this?? Another chapter review within a week of the last one??? Gasp! Incredible! Unheard of!

(I just didn’t have a lot of stuff to draw for the last chapter, haha. We’ll see how this one goes.)

Haha another reference to people traveling “in the van”. Guess I’ll have to draw another Volkswagen ;-P

Aww, Merry is left behind…poor thing. Poor all of them, really.

“Bergil was with him, and he also was downcast; for his father was to march leading a company of the Men of the City: he could not rejoin the Guard until his case was judged.” Oh nooo, Bergil, bby 🥺 Has to watch his father leave, wondering if he’ll come back. Argh.

And Merry has to do the same thing with Pippin!! Argh! This is just like that one scene in the movie, but without Aragorn at his side to comfort him…

“Everyone that he cared for had gone away into the gloom that hung over the distant eastern sky; and little hope at all was left in his heart that he would ever see any of them again.” Merry noooooooo 😭😭

“He was roused by the touch of Bergil’s hand. ‘Come, Master Perian!’ said the lad. ‘You are still in pain, I see. I will help you back to the Healers. But do not fear! They will come back. The Men of Minas Tirith will never be overcome. And now they have the Lord Elfstone, and Beregond of the Guard too.’” BBY SON 😭😭😭 Bergil has inherited his father’s defiant optimism. You keep up your spirits, buddy.

The king’s head!! They put the king’s head back on the statue!!

And they broke the bridge to Minas Morgul and set fire to the sickly white flowers. Good. This may only be small pocket change compared to the might of Mordor, but any way they can destroy the darkness and ruin and replace it with beauty and light is a good thing.

Imrahil urging them to use the name “King Elessar” for the psychic damage is GoodTM.

EYYYYYY MABLUNG MY DUDE

Aragorn guessing the mind of Sauron is giving me huge Death Note vibes. “He knows that I know that he knows, etc. etc…”

Oh now this is interesting. Some of the men from Rohan and Lossnarch are too afraid to keep going towards Mordor, so instead of scolding them, Aragorn tells them to turn back and take the port city of Cair Andros back from the enemy if they can. Some of them do, and it’s good, because they’ll still have the chance to prove their courage with a battle that’s more their speed. And others choose to stay with Aragorn, who treated their weakness with kindness.

I could make SO many spiritual parallels here, like SO many, but I think I’ll save that for a future essay post.

Ohhhhhohoho Mouth of Sauron time—

“At its head there rode a tall and evil shape, mounted upon a black horse, if horse it was; for it was huge and hideous, and its face was a frightful mask, more like a skull than a living head, and in the sockets of its eyes and in its nostrils there burned a flame.” OHOHOHO DUUUUUUUDE

NOBODY TOLD ME THAT THE HORSE OF THE MOUTH OF SAURON WAS THIS METAL BRUH

Aragorn: *has a staring contest with the Mouth of Sauron* The Mouth: “I CAME OUT HERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME AND I’M HONESTLY FEELING SO ATTACKED RIGHT NOW”

“And there to the wonder and dismay of all the Captains [the Messenger] held up first the short sword that Sam had carried, and next a grey cloak with an elven-brooch, and last the coat of mithril-mail that Frodo had worn wrapped in his tattered garments.” aND A BROKEN PAIR OF EYEGLASSES HAHAHA F R I C K—

Gandalf: “Bring out the halfling, and we’ll consider your terms!” The Mouth: “👀 Umm…ahaha…about that…er, ah, FOOLS! HOW DARE YOU CHALLENGE SAURON!”

I love the fact that the Mouth of Sauron panics here 🤣🤣 HE DOESN’T HAVE FRODO!! SAM CAME AND GOT HIM AND THEY ESCAPED! LOLOL

Actually, if you look at his words carefully, you can tell that Sauron actually has no idea how bad he fumbled this. He speaks of ONE Halfling, not two. He speaks of a SPY, not a carrier of the Ring. He briefly panics when Gandalf demands to see Frodo as evidence. Don’t you think Sauron would take the chance to brag about it, if he’d gotten the Ring back from Frodo?? But he hasn’t!! The Halfling(s) slipped through his grasp! And he has NO IDEA how big of a cock-up this is!!! HAHAHAHAHA GET REKT DIAPER-BABY

But in the moment, we don’t have time to pick apart his words. In the moment, the tiny army of the Free Peoples is surrounded by an enemy host more than ten times their size. It is reasonable to assume that they are all about to die. Hoooolyyyy crap.

Pippin thinking these grim thoughts about the end of his life, noooo. “I might as well die quickly and get it over with. It’s all gone wrong.” And he thinks of Merry, and he thinks of Frodo, and “I wish I could see cool sunlight and green grass again!”, and AAAAAHHHHHHH—

AND HE STABS!! A TROLL!! TO SAVE BEREGOND’S LIFE!!! AND IT FALLS ON TOP OF HIM AND CRUSHES HIM AND I *SCREEECH*

*sobbing* The Eagles are coming! The E-eagles are comi-hi-hiiing!

“‘This is my tale, and it is ended now. Good-bye!’ And his thought fled far away and his eyes saw no more.”

SHUT UPPPPPPPPPP 😭😭😭

(I would just like to issue a formal note of gratitude to C. S. Lewis for not letting Tolkien HECKING KILL PIPPIN in this scene. You have done the Lord’s work, sir. We salute you.) EDIT: Sorry, this is an unconfirmed rumor started by the RotK movie trivia website. Should’ve checked my facts first. :-P More discussion can be found here.

[stxrvel]

bittersweet feelings (1)

summary: you have to deal with the harsh truth after Bucky arrives from one of his missions.

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

warnings: nothing i think, just you know English is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes!

words: +2.5k

note: hi! I've been feeling physically unwell since I last posted and have been in bed, but today I was finally able to get a moment of calm and lucidity, so, enjoy and hope you like it!

also, i've been working on a series that I want to publish soon, but I don't know why I always find it difficult to do all that planning. anyway, I really hope I can bring it to you soon! thank u for all the support!

part 2

part 3

Admiring Bucky Barnes from afar has become too much of a challenge in recent days. Before, you were wrapped up in papers, essays, final exams and projects due, locking yourself in your room at a time or living in your university library, simply too busy to wander your eyes over the sprawling figure of Bucky strolling around the Complex. Ironically, he always spent more time there when you weren't there.

But now, completely free of academic responsibilities and banned from going on missions at Fury's whim, you had a lot more time to wander the halls of the Complex, especially in the gym where the man with the metal arm used to spend most of his time. Many times (if not all the time) you felt like a lousy attempt of a stalker, and you was almost 100% sure that he realised what you were doing but preferred not to say anything so as not to embarrass you. And that was much more embarrassing.

But did that stop you? Absolutely not.

He'd cut his hair a few days ago, and although you loved the way his hair looked on his shoulders and the way it blew in the wind every time he walked, as if he were a model on a bloody photo shoot, you shamelessly admitted that you had quickly grown to love his new style. Because, honestly, did something look bad on Bucky?

Your hands moved indiscreetly across the table, crumpling the paper between your fingers that you had previously been reading, as you watched the aforementioned man's shoulders shake after hearing Sam Wilson say something about Scott's card game. You moved your eyes scanning his entire face, trying to memorise the expression on his face as he smiled so openly, as he almost never did in public.

“Am I interrupting your crazy stalker moment?”

Tony's voice startled you, and you turned your head so sharply to look at something other than Bucky that a slight twinge of pain made its way from the back of your neck to your right shoulder. You grimaced and watched the millionaire sit down next to you on one of the black chairs that were spread out in the first floor cafeteria. Ahead of you, a large glass door separated you from one of the side exits of the Complex, where Bucky and Sam had stopped to talk and, surely at first, discuss the mission Bucky had just returned from.

“I'm not a crazy stalker,” you told him dismissively, but your nerves were eating you up inside. Even though you knew you weren't entirely discreet, you still weren't ready for someone to tell you that you were too obvious for him not to know anymore.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Tony commented sarcastically and you felt a quick pang of fear inside your chest, “I was just coming to tell you that Fury made the decision to send you to Milan with Steve the other week.”

Your gaze finally shifted away from Bucky's figure, closer and closer to where you stood, to Tony and you frowned at him in extreme confusion.

“What? So soon?”

“Isn't that what you wanted? To go back to the camp?”

“Well, yes, but I thought his tantrum was going to last much longer.”

Tony let out a laugh and proceeded to open the packet of peanuts in his pocket, “If he hears you say that, consider yourself fired, kiddo.”

“Then it's a relief that no one heard me say it,” you smiled innocently at Tony, who only gave you a tight-mouthed smile in return.

“It's just a recon mission. Steve thinks there's an empty HYDRA base you can investigate, and you're pretty nimble with that non-digitized document review stuff.”

“You mean I'm good at reading physical documents?”

“You know what I mean, eagle eyes. There's nothing you're missing.”

“Ow,” you croon with a smile, “Thanks for the compliment, Stark.”

“You're welcome. Now, don't go freaking out. Barnes is walking this way.”

He then stood up and planted himself in front of you, as your heart did a wild flip and you felt him pause for a second, before resuming his march at an unnatural pace. You didn't even know if it was possible for a heart to beat that fast. You felt sweat beading on your hands and started to breathe through your mouth as you felt the nervousness take over your whole body.

“What?” you exclaimed, staring at him, sitting uncomfortably in the chair across the table they had shared.

“I told you not to freak out, you're only going to make it worse.”

You narrowed your eyes at him with a frown. Next, you took about three deep breaths to try and calm your frantic heartbeat, before Sam's figure - and consequently Bucky's - appeared in your field of view to the side of Stark's body. The man gave you a look with an arched eyebrow, as if to ask you to behave yourself, which was an exaggeration.

That was an exaggeration. You spent a lot of time with Bucky! Even when you two were alone you didn't feel as nervous as you did at moments like this.

When your gazes met, you could barely return the smile he gave you before you turned your eyes to Sam, who had just spoken but you hadn't gotten to hear everything he'd said because your head was in the clouds.

“...and that you're going back to the camp with Steve. How long since you've been out? Almost four months? You must be anxious.”

You just nodded, looking at him through tight lips.

Tony rubbed his eyes in an exasperated gesture.

“I could ask Fury to let me tag along,” Bucky's voice reached your ears like a forbidden delicacy. It had been several days since you'd last heard it and it was like a gift from the gods, “Lest he bore you with his awkward silences.”

“We don't have awkward silences,” you grumbled quickly, not knowing exactly why you were getting defensive. Tony raised his eyebrows at you and you shrugged in place, “I mean, we talk about a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky's jocular tone didn't do much for your nerves and sanity, “Name a topic you've been talking about for more than three minutes.”

You pursed your lips and stared at his perfect face, uninjured by the mission, as you conjured up memories of your conversations with Steve. Your almost non-existent conversations.

Your cheeks flushed as you realised he was right, but you weren't going to let him win you over this time.

“One time, we talked all night about a movie.”

“If you're going to say you talked about Lord of the Rings, that doesn't count,” Sam spoke with a half smile on his face.

“Why not?” you grumbled quickly, watching the grimace in his face.

“He talks to everyone about those movies. It doesn't even feel like a conversation anymore, it's like a monologue.”

“Careful, Sam,” Tony spoke up after several seconds, “She likes those movies too.”

“Hey! They're good movies.”

“Good for a nap,” Sam let out a laugh.

You watched Bucky pursed his lips and looked down at the floor, holding back a chuckle.

“They're entertaining,” you muttered with a frown.

Sam pointed at you, his eyebrows arched and his corners raised in a playful grin.

“Well, that's it,” Bucky interrupted whatever Sam was going to say, “You know what they say, to each his own.”

“I'm with Barnes on this one,” Tony spoke up, resting one of his hands on Barnes' shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. Bucky watched his hand and then the millionaire's face with an arched eyebrow, but Tony quickly turned his attention away from Bucky to Sam, “Speaking of Steve, he asked me to tell you to look for him in the main room. He said something about a pending conversation.”

Tony put his arm around Sam's shoulders, leaning part of his body to lead him to walk with him out of the cafeteria. They promptly struck up a conversation on their way out of the cafeteria, and you felt your hands shake once you realized you were alone with Bucky after a couple of weeks of not being able to talk properly with him.

You turned your head away from where the two people who had accompanied you a few seconds before were leaving, hearing the creak of a chair being dragged in front of you. You watched Bucky move his body into a sitting position, settling his forearms on the table and his eyes fixed on yours. Settling into the chair, you gave him a tight-lipped, tense smile. Act normal.

“So the boss finally gave in,” the black-haired man said, his lips curling as he interlocked his hands.

You nodded your head slightly, “It was quicker than I thought. I thought he'd never let me back in the field.”

“And can you blame him? You sure scared the soul out of his body,” Bucky arched his eyebrows, and the mere memory of what happened gave you a feeling of irritability.

You grimaced, “Oh, it wasn't a big deal.”

“It wasn't a big deal? Honey, you threw yourself at those people all by yourself.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, like you did every time he called you names when you were alone. He never did it in public, and it was something you didn't try to think about very often.

“So what? This was all unnecessarily dramatic,” you tried to say in the most neutral tone of voice possible as you crossed your legs under the table.

“There were twenty men,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Do you think me incapable, Barnes?” you arched an eyebrow, speaking with courage.

“No, of course not,” he quickly replied, his gaze softening, “But you disobeyed a direct order from Natasha and put your life at risk. You know how Fury is with you, he cares too much about you.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your back fall against the back of the chair, “But I'm not made of porcelain. I'm as good as Nat, she trained me herself!”

“But Fury didn't see her grow up.”

Well, he had a point and rightly so. You had grown up with the boss, who had practically adopted you, which was one of the reasons he used to be overprotective or refuse you to do some things because he thought it was for the best. And that fact had also helped you form fraternal bonds with all the Avengers until you were old enough and capable enough to be a part of them.

Well, you saw everyone as a nice family except Bucky. And that was a big problem.

You watched him through your eyelashes with an almost imperceptible pout.

Bucky gave you a beautiful smile, the kind that could light up an entire city, “Honey, I understand that it bothers you, but the position you put Fury in at the time, or everyone for that matter, made it hard for him not to make the decision he did. Maybe he overstepped, I'm not denying that, but he was scared.”

“There were other ways...” you started to renege again.

“And would you really have listened to him?” he inquired without wiping away his smile. It amazed you how lenient he could be with you, when with the rest of the world he was a hermit and sulky most of the time.

You sighed. Yep, you could be pretty stubborn when you put your mind to it.

“Well, the important thing is that he finally realised his mistake,” you blurted out with an amused grin. Bucky frowned and pointed the index finger of his metal arm at you.

“I think you missed the point of our little debate.”

“No, no... I understand, Bucky, I do. But Fury have to trust my skills a little more. I could against all of them! It was a spectacle.”

“But you're not always going to come out on top, sweetheart. At some point someone can catch you off guard, and that's what Fury's afraid of.”

“Well, it'll have to happen at some point. Unfortunately, I'm not invincible,” you agreed and admitted what he had said, because he was certainly right, with a tight-lipped smile.

You thought Bucky would be amused, or at least agree with you, but he merely bowed his head, frowned and tensed noticeably. You noticed that his expression suddenly hardened, and it frightened you that you had said something that would have angered him.

“What?” you asked fearfully.

He looked up from the table to look at you again, waking up. He gave you a smile, but a stiffer, harder and committed one. Your chest tightened, “It's not.... It's nothing. Just try to be careful next time, more cautious if necessary. You know, strategist.”

“Yeah, I know, I don't risk it if I don't think it's necessary.”

“That's my girl.”

You froze for a few seconds, just watching him, before your face heated up into an all too violent blush. He'd never said anything like that to you before... but you certainly didn't balk at the possibility that he might again.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you smiled shyly at him.

The sound of the cafeteria doors swinging open distracted the man in front of you, but you kept staring at his profile, gawking and surely with heart-shaped eyes. How was it possible that you liked him so much? Even though it had been a while since you last spoke, it seemed that your feelings for him had only grown three times his size.

Then, you heard it:

“Bucky!”

A woman's voice in the distance.

Confused, you turned your gaze in the direction of the voice, which came from the same place Bucky had been watching for several seconds. She was the one who had opened the doors so frantically, then. You frowned at her from a distance, unable to recognise her figure or features; it wasn't usually easy for you to forget the faces of people you knew, and you certainly didn't know this woman.

However, when you turned to ask Bucky, the half-smile on his face gave you the answer without words. Your chest tightened and you clenched your hands so as not to show the abrupt change of mood you had just gone through when he turned his face and fixed his eyes on yours. All without erasing that smile.

That smile he had on his face for her.

“I guess you'll have to go with Steve to schedule everything about the mission.”

You nodded, uncomfortably, not looking away.

“Fine. In the meantime, I'll go on my date,” he crooned, and the burning you felt intensified so much that it felt like you couldn't pass saliva without straining. But you smiled at him, your lips curving awkwardly and your face reluctant to show a feeling you didn't experience.

“Wow, I thought I'd never hear you say something like that.”

“Life is full of surprises, honey,” he said smiling as he stood up, “Do you want me to walk you to the living room?”

“No, don't worry. I'll be there in a minute,” you replied quickly. It was the first time since you had met him that you wanted him to leave you alone for once.

“All right. Good luck with the old man.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your- your- your date.”

You hated the way your voice betrayed you, but Bucky didn't seem to pay too much attention to it as he waved goodbye to you and started walking in the direction of the woman waiting for him outside the cafeteria doors. You felt your chest tighten as you sighed deeply and a couple of tears welled up in your eyes.

Damn it, at what point had all that happened?

[audreydoeskaren]

Thank you for posting a review on the book Evolution & Revolution Chinese Dress 1700s - 1990s. It’s so disappointing how the book potentially could’ve been good. What are your favorite books on Chinese fashion history?

Hi, great that you found the review useful! To be completely honest, I haven't really read any books on Chinese fashion before I started this blog, because I mostly used online resources like museums' websites, archaeology reports and other blogs. I actually started this blog in the hopes that people might recommend me some books😅 And I only ever read about the Ming, Qing and republican era so my knowledge is very limited.

Anyway, here are some books people recommended to me that I found great, some that I'm currently reading and some I know to be objectively good:

Ming Dynasty

Q版大明衣冠图志 (2011) 董进著

A classic made by the popular fashion history blogger 撷芳主人 (real name Dong Jin), this book is the ultimate compilation of Ming Dynasty looks illustrated by the most adorable drawings. It has basically everything you need to know about Ming Dynasty garments from informal civilian fashion and theater costumes to the most formal court dress and military uniforms. My only quibble with this book is that it doesn’t specify the decade/year each look is from, giving the false impression that everything could be worn throughout the Ming Dynasty (I heard that he did specify some eras in the new version? I don’t have it so I’m not sure). You can follow the author on Weibo where he regularly posts stuff about the Ming Dynasty, or check out other books and articles written by him. Even if you don’t have the book, you could probably find images of individual entries on the internet. Unfortunately all of it is in Chinese and no English version is available :(

华夏衣冠 中国古代服饰文化 (2016) 孙机著

More of a collection of essays Sun Ji wrote on historical Chinese clothing from a variety of eras, I got it for the chapters on Ming Dynasty xiapei 霞帔 and headwear. Professional, academic language that is still easy to read, plenty of references and neatly traced line drawings of artifacts. Useful diagrams on the structure of 狄髻 diji. However if I remember correctly, Sun had some beef with Dong Jin on the terminology of parts of diji, not sure if that was ever resolved; here’s an article about that. Also only in Chinese (that I know of).

Qing Dynasty

Chinese Reverse Glass Painting 1720-1820 (2020) by Thierry Audric

This is the book form transcript of a dissertation given by the author in 2016. It's more Chinese painting than Chinese fashion but has a lot of wonderful images of 18th century export paintings (with dates even), which depicted fashion realistically. I love 18th century export art in general, they're really beautiful and unusual so I would recommend everybody to check them out. I love this because Chinese oil painting outside of a court context (and all other forms of art that were not literati painting e.g. woodblock print, lithograph, pen and ink illustration) gets very little attention from Chinese art historians. This book could be downloaded for free in pdf form the publisher Peter Lang.

A Fashionable Century: Textile Artistry and Commerce in the Late Qing (2020) by Rachel Silberstein

This book focuses on the 19th century and has some interesting insights on the impact of commercial workshops on Qing fashion, which is a welcome break from the��“dragon robes” and women’s domestic work stereotyped in most literature on the Qing. It has rich descriptions of the decoration patterns and fabrics used in the 19th century, accompanied by paintings and photographs. It did kind of fall into the trap of “the late Ming continued into the early Qing” and just dismissed the 18th century altogether, which is a shame. Silberstein’s dating of several prints also appears somewhat incorrect, but it’s still a very useful analysis of the 19th century nonetheless. I read this for free on JSTOR through my university login.

Cinderella’s Sisters: A Revisionist History of Footbinding (2005) by Dorothy Ko

This book is absolutely epic and an undeniable classic on the subject. Ko masterfully avoids all the surface level problematic takes on footbinding and offers an extremely nuanced, extremely well researched overview on the history of footbinding in the Ming, Qing and republican eras, the reasons for its popularity and demise, with a most interesting analysis of the problems with the way people in the republican era went about the abolition of it. The book is more heavy on the social analysis side but also contains a lot of factual description of the process of footbinding, styles popular in different eras etc. I just love how she approaches the topic in the most factual and non-emotionally charged way possible, which is refreshing considering the sheer volume of literature on footbinding that is just brainless condemnation without any nuance, a lot of which also unconsciously perpetuate misogynistic ideas rather than combat them. I don’t know of a way to read this for free, I bought it from Amazon.

Every Step a Lotus (2001) by Dorothy Ko

I haven’t read this yet but apparently it works well as a supplement to Cinderella’s Sisters. Also on footbinding.

China Trade Painting 1750s to 1880s (2014) by Jack S C Lee / 中国外销画 1750s - 1880s 李世庄著

Another book on export art, focusing more on the established painters. Lee digs a bit more into the painters’ experiences and biographies, with big portions on George Chinnery and Lam Qua, but also includes plenty of portraits and scenery paintings depicting men’s clothing and the architecture of the studios at the Guangzhou factories (十三行). It’s great because the paintings included were super realistic and well made with accurate proportions and anatomy----the quality on a par with those produced by the European academies----so they contemplate conventional Chinese portraits made in the same era in showing how the clothing fits on the body. Again I bought this book second hand from Amazon.

----

I don’t know of any reliable books for republican era fashion because for some reasons most discourse on it is centered around the glorification and mystification of the cheongsam... Fortunately, due to the abundance of extant originals and photographs, books are largely not necessary for the research of republican era fashion :3

There are some other books and articles that were recommended to me but I haven’t yet read: x, x

@fouryearsofshades also made a post recently recommending books and it covers other time periods as well.

If anyone knows any other books on the Ming, Qing or republican era please tell me regardless of good or bad. I need to read more😅

[caelestis-composition]

killshot anon! YEAH i totally agree w/ your view on kaeya. it's so weird to me that people will blame him for his role in a situation he was forced into as a child through no choice of his own. that itself had to be traumatic, not to mention everything that happened later. i hate when people say he's untrustworthy - like yeah, he's lied, so has everyone? it's clear he does it mostly to protect himself. not to mention that (& sadism) can be symptoms of trauma. kaeya deserves nothing but happiness

take a seat folks it’s time for a “brynn should’ve been an english major” lesson! today we’re gonna learn some literary theory; specifically, we’re gonna apply psychoanalytical trauma theory to kaeya’s backstory and current character. killshot anon i bet you never thought this would result in a whole ass essay.

disclaimer one! you are allowed to dislike kaeya! i am not saying you need to like him or his character, you’re entitled to your opinion and i’m not here to change your mind.

disclaimer two! i am in no way an expert and this is all for fun! this is just my silly little analysis of one of my favorite characters as someone who’s studied literary theory and rhetoric and can also apply personal experience. seriously analysis is like a hobby to me and this is just an excuse for me to ramble about kaeya.

disclaimer three! this contains lots of spoilers! basically for everything we know in-game, general knowledge as well as stuff from his voicelines and character story. don’t read this if you don’t want spoilers.

since this is going to be filled with spoilers and is about to get really long, everything will be under a cut. for those who wanna read my dumb super informal essay: enjoy!

final note: yeah this is over 2000 words long can you tell i like analysis

⭒

let’s start by getting a quick rundown of trauma theory out of the way. to begin, what is “trauma?” in this case, trauma is going to refer to an experience that greatly affects and changes one’s life; attitudes, memories, behaviors, mental state, etc. while not all changes may be bad, per se, the overall effect of trauma is generally a negative one, which is why it’s so significant. literary trauma theory, then, explores these changes and the impact of trauma in literature. it analyzes the psychological and social effects of trauma, explaining what those effects are and why they happen. in the context of a specific character, trauma theory breaks down said character’s behaviors, feelings, and general mentality in relation to their past experiences; trauma theory hopes to explain to others the reasons for why a character may act or feel the way they do, all based upon the character’s experiences, particularly traumatic ones. our character today is the lovely kaeya alberich, with the “literature” being genshin impact. i’ll be referencing kaeya’s wiki page to ensure i get all details correct for his character story and voicelines.

it would be good to review kaeya’s backstory before delving into the actual analysis. though we don’t know much about his life before living in mondstadt, we’re told he was sent as an agent of khaenri’ah. and by “sent,” i mean his biological father abandoned him in a completely unfamiliar land to serve khaenri’ah’s interests and fullfil his mission—what this entirely entails hasn’t been revealed. mondstadt, however, welcomed kaeya “with open arms when they found him.” crepus ragnvindr took him in as his adopted son, with diluc as his adopted brother. kaeya and diluc were “almost like twins,” so close they “[knew] each other’s thoughts and intentions without a word.” he’d began a new life in mondstadt, one surrounded by friends and family that loved him; one that was completely shattered by crepus’s death. kaeya arrived at the scene of the disaster, and was led to believe diluc was the one who killed their father to “set his father free” from the effects of his delusion. there’d always been one big question in kaeya’s life: if it came down to it, who would he support? the nation that abandoned him, but he still felt loyal to, or the nation and family that took him in and really loved him? overrun with guilt, kaeya confessed his purpose to diluc, sparking a fight between the two brothers. in this fight, kaeya receives his cryo vision. though both brothers stepped away alive, they’ve never been able to make peace with one another. now, kaeya is the eccentric and charming cavalry captain of the knights of favonius; a man who gets his way by using any means necessary, regardless of whether or not it seems right.

kaeya’s not evil; he’s morally ambiguous, and that stems from what appears to be a general distrust of others. his life is one shrouded in secrecy. from the moment he stepped foot into mondstadt, he was surrounded by secrets. even now, he doesn’t talk about a lot of things, namely his past, vision, and feelings. though he’s always willing to get information out of others, kaeya never reveals anything about himself. he repeatedly tells the player they can confide in him, but whenever you try and pry into his life, he deflects your questions with some sort of witty comment or flirty remark. anything he does reveal is vague, or spoken in some sort of “code.” for example, his “interesting things” voiceline. he tells us about the owl of dragonspine, how it “seems to look right through you, while letting go of none of its own secrets,” and then tacks on a “quite fascinating, don’t you think?” it seems like an awfully accurate parallel to himself; kaeya does all he can to get information from others, but never gives anything about himself. now, this whole thing—his relationship with diluc falling apart and his need for secrecy—could have probably been avoided if he had just come clean about his mission years ago. so why didn’t he? to start, kaeya was a literal child. not only are children unable to properly tell the difference between right and wrong, but they’ll also typically follow their parents’ orders blindly. kaeya had just been abandoned, and he wouldn’t want to risk being cast out by mondstadt as well if he came clean right away. you see, there’s this thing about trauma, something that trauma theory states. traumatized people feel a sort of shame or guilt regarding their traumatic experience; they’ll keep quiet because they don’t want to cause problems or bother others with their issues. of course kaeya wouldn’t tell the truth about his past, he doesn’t want to destroy the genuinely loving relationships he’d built in mondstadt. his fight with diluc only proves what he was afraid of: if he’s honest, he’ll be abandoned again. and if kaeya’s used to all the lies, why should he bother changing?

another thing, if he’s not going to tell the truth, then why would he have initially gone along with his father’s plans? again, he was a child. he really had no choice, and was forced into a very wrong and cruel situation. there’s a good explanation for this, too, which is also stated in trauma theory; traumatized people will still do their best to please their abusers. especially if said abuser is a parent, that will drive traumatized people to work even harder to please them. although his father hurt him by ruthlessly abandoning him, kaeya still sought to make him and his homeland proud. he was willing to be used as a tool for their gain; that is, until he found people who actually cared about him. he was an impressionable child, of course he’s going to obey orders. but as he gets older, he feels torn. does he serve those who abandoned him, or those that took him in? his father—and arguably, khaenri’ah as a whole—hurt him, sure, but he still feels some loyalty and connection to his former home. instead of revealing anything, he lets the situation play out. that way, he can’t be blamed when things fall apart.

the thing about claiming he’s untrustworthy is that hardly anyone in-game believes that. he’s adored by the older folks in mondstadt, and foes and allies alike find him easy to talk to. despite seeming lazy and uninterested in work, kaeya takes his job very seriously. in fact, his story states that crepus’s death was the “first and only time kaeya failed in his duty.” the “only time” is especially important, because it signifies kaeya still fulfills his duties successfully. he’s had a total of one slip-up, and hasn’t failed since. no, kaeya is not untrustworthy. rather, kaeya finds everyone else untrustworthy. it’s not unlikely that this is a direct consequence of being abandoned as a child. although it’s been established that kaeya and diluc were very close as children, when crepus dies, kaeya assumes diluc is the one that killed him. in order to jump to such an extreme conclusion against someone he was so close to, there had to be some underlying sense of distrust. furthermore, kaeya expresses feeling as though he doesn’t belong anywhere. he was abandoned by khaenri’ah, and then worried he wouldn’t be accepted by mondstadt. he is, but there’s still that worry. if you place him in your teapot as a companion, he tells you that your home feels like someplace he belongs, following it up with a “heh, who’d have thought…” kaeya still feels as though he doesn’t belong in mondstadt; despite the fact that he’s a high-ranking knight of favonius and rather popular, he still feels like an outsider. he doesn’t trust that anyone actually wants him around, and he finds joy in testing peoples’ trustworthiness. it’s noted in his story and through his voicelines that the beloved cavalry captain has a rather sadistic nature. he likes putting people into difficult situations, to see what decisions they will make. he does this to both opponents and allies, testing to see who’s going to back out and who’ll keep fighting; in the sake of allies, who can he trust? or who will turn tail and abandon their teammates at the slightest hint of danger? i mentioned it previously, but kaeya doesn’t care what measures he has to take so long as his job gets done and he gets the answers he wants. it’s a sort of self-preserving mindset, putting himself above the safety of others. kaeya’s trying to protect himself, which makes sense with all he’s been through. he doesn’t want to be hurt, and instead finds pleasure in threatening harm upon others. it’s twisted, sure, but it’s because he can only trust himself in a world that he believes is out to get him. he’s got as many enemies—if not more—as he does allies; of course kaeya focuses on protecting himself first, whether physically or through keeping his secrets, well, secret.

his most obvious traumatic effect is definitely his alcoholism. but he uses it as a distraction, not just to wallow in self-pity. this is seen again in his story, particularly in story 3. it’s found that when his favorite drink, death after noon, is out of season, mondstadt’s crime rate is decreased drastically. at face value, this just means kaeya spends more time working when death after noon is low in supply. but kaeya doesn’t skip work to go to taverns; it’s already been established he takes his job very seriously, so this means he actually patrols and tracks down threats while off work when he can’t indulge in his favorite alcoholic drink. he doesn’t get drunk simply because he’s depressed. if he did, there wouldn’t be a drop in incidents when death after noon is out of season. no, kaeya uses both the alcohol and fighting to distract himself. after all, it’s a little hard to think about feeling sad when you’re either drunk out of your mind or fighting for your life.

despite being so secretive, kaeya gives us glimpses of his true emotions from time to time. as previously mentioned, his flirty attitude is nothing more than a mask to hide how he really feels; and kaeya is terribly, terribly lonely. that may be why he seems so extroverted. constantly being around people should, logically, drive away that feeling, but it doesn’t work like that. when he talks with the player, he frequently expresses disappointment when you have to leave. each time, though, he dampens the weight of his words with playful or flirty language. he’s lonely, but doesn’t want you to know that, like he’s afraid of asking you to stay. he takes the seriousness of his feelings, and basically bends it into some sort of lighthearted joke. kaeya hides his true feelings—negative feelings, to be exact��so that he doesn’t bother anyone. which is, again, something that happens with traumatized people. he displays that hesitance to reveal his true feelings, because there’s a shame or guilt that comes with his past. he doesn’t want to bother others or hold them back, so he puts on a smile and amps up the charisma. one other very important thing—but very small detail—i would like to note is his feelings toward family. his fell apart not even once, but twice, and kaeya still holds familial relationships in high regard. we know he doesn’t exactly care how he goes about getting his work done. he doesn’t pay attention to what’s “right” or “wrong,” so long as he gets what he needs. but one of his informants, vile, notes that the cavalry captain has one exception: he won’t work with those who threaten others’ families. in fact, kaeya claims those who do should be hunted down and destroyed. even though his own families have caused him so much pain—and he ended up estranged from both—he still understands the importance of having people who love you in your life. because he didn’t get that.

kaeya’s not evil. ultimately, as a knight of favonius, his goal is to protect others, because no one was there to protect him. and because no one was there to protect him, because he’s been hurt time and time again by people who were supposed to love him, kaeya has taken to protecting himself. he hides any and all negative feelings with a charismatic, friendly façade, because he thinks it’ll drive away his persistent loneliness. any “bad” actions of his were hardly his fault; he was forced into a life of secrecy and lies, and then abandoned by the first people who truly loved him. kaeya’s a multi-faceted, tragic character, one that toes the line between good and evil, and that’s what makes him so interesting.

[uzuitengensfourthwife]

Fallen hard (Sanemi x femReader)

Warnings: none its pure fluff, and well my bad writing and grammar lol

Word count: 2410

Authors note: Okay I got to be honest with you guys. I wrote this back in September or October and posted it on Wattpad, I think (Yes I used to be on wattpad cries) But I really like REALLY wanted to share this on tumblr because its cute and sanemi deserves fluff. I really hope you enjoy it. Im already working on part 2 :)

Sanemi’s POV

,You're going this time right?'' Genya looked up at his brother, eyes full of hope that his brother would go to today's parents' evening. Especially now, that he had a new homeroom teacher. His brother, however, really couldn't care less, he maybe went once a year and that's usually the first and last time a teacher would see or talk to him. Still, he had to go today, Genya wanted him to go.

Yet his Brother's answer was bold and harsh. , And why would I?" Yeah, why would he? Genya started to think of a good reason why it was so important for him to attend today, but all he really could think of was his new teacher and that would certainly not be enough of a good reason for his brother to go. Well, he could at least try and give him this as a good reason to go, but in all honesty, he didn't want to get yelled at.

Sanemi however seemed to notice his brother's nervous behavior. , Just spit it out already.'' he demanded in a sharp tone, staring down at Genya. , W-well... we have a new teacher since last month... and don't you think you should show up? J-just to be polite...'' Genya stuttered, trying to avoid his brother's piercing gaze.

Sanemi just scoffed, trying to get away from this pathetic behavior of his brother. He would not join this damn parent's evening, not even if there was a new homeroom teacher. He already went once a year, wasn't this enough? Of course, the school disagreed with this, but goddamn it this was just a waste of time and that's exactly why he only went once a year. No more.

, Aniki, please... I'll do the dishes for the rest of the month!'' Genya tried again, he had to make his brother go and this was the last thing he could think of that might, just might work as bait on his brother.

Surprisingly, it worked. Sanemi then turned around, looking at his brother as he made another offer. , Two months, and I'll go." This was too good to be true. Genya smiled at his brother as he nodded, agreeing to his brother's offer. , Okay, sounds fair." - , Good. When do I have to be there?'' Sanemi asked. , 8 pm.''

Well and this, this was the reason why Sanemi was now waiting in front of the Classroom. Waiting for his brother's teacher to come out and finally talk to him. 

Sanemi sighed in annoyance as he thought about how convincing his little brother was. He should've charged him way more than just two goddamn months, he should've charged him at least a whole damn year. If not even more. Even so, he could not return time and now had to deal with this new teacher of Genya. And if he was honest, he did simply not care about this new teacher. He was already thinking of how great he'd feel when he could finally leave when the door of the classroom suddenly opened and a woman, most definitely younger than him, stood there smiling at him.

, Mr. Shinazugawa, please come in." her voice was soft like a feather, kind of soothing as she said his name, kindly inviting him to enter the classroom. He was shocked, he did not expect his brother to have such a teacher, all day he imagined her to be an old hag, but instead of an old hag, a wonderful young woman was standing in front of him.

, I'm Y/N L/N, nice to meet you." She held out her hand as she introduced herself and waited for him to take her hand for a handshake. And so he did. , Sanemi Shinazugawa, pleased to meet you as well." he coughed out, slowly shaking her hand. God, why was he so nervous all of the sudden? It was just his little brother's stupid teacher.

Yeah, what the actual fuck was he even nervous for?

, I'm glad you had the time to come, Genya was afraid that you might not be able to attend." - , Well.." Sanemi started as he looked in her (e/c) orbs, I guess I was able to take some time.''

Her smile only grew bigger, showing him to take a seat in front of the teacher's desk. , And for that, I am very grateful. There's a lot of stuff I want to talk about.'' She sat down in front of him, going through a pile of paper, probably looking for Genya's folder. , So... what did the idiot do?" Sanemi sighed out, already preparing himself to hear what Genya did wrong and what HE had to pay for. But instead of hearing any complaints, Y/N only chuckled, leaving Sanemi dumbfounded as he watched her with confusion. , Oh he didn't do anything bad. No, indeed he's a very good student! Everyone adores him!" But that, Sanemi didn't hear.

As she started to brabble how great of a student his brother was, all he could do was watch her. Examining her soft features. He was fascinated, nearly hypnotized by her beauty. For once, he was thankful that his brother was so convincing. Sanemi might be harsh, however, he was able to acknowledge a beautiful woman when he sees one. And this woman right in front of him, was out of his league, maybe even out of this world. If he had to describe her beauty, he wouldn't be able to find the perfect word. She was just too pretty, too beautiful, too stunning. Probably even an angel, sent from above. And her soothing voice just fit her beauty so well. God, she was perfect, and for the first time in a while, Sanemi had forgotten how to think properly.

,,-and that's why Genya has already gotten so many good reviews from teachers from all subjects. So- Mr. Shinazugawa?" He suddenly heard her calling for him, snapping out of his thoughts.

Oh god, he was so deep in his thoughts that he even had forgotten to listen. He knew the moment he saw her that he has fallen for her, but ....he didn't know he has fallen that hard., Ah... I'm sorry..." he whispered in an apologetic tone, rubbing the back of his neck. The teacher in front of him however just chuckled again waving her hand, as if she was telling him that there was no reason to apologize. , No worries! But well as I was saying, Genya is a really good student and has gotten many good reviews from all kinds of teachers. Not only that... but his grades are pretty good as well. Almost only A's!" She then handed him a pile of all the grades his little brother has gotten so far, he didn't care, but for the sake of her, he took a good look at all the reviews and grades she has handed him.

He hummed in response, once he looked through all of the stuff, giving her back the paper as he answered. , I have to admit, he isn't that bad." She shook her head and scoffed, taking the papers he was holding. , Please, not that bad? God, he is pretty amazing if you ask me!!" The young woman then leaned in closer, frowning as she looked Sanemi in the eyes. , You should be more proud of him. After all, he told me you are his role model. He looks up to you and thinks you are an amazing big brother." Sanemis eyes widened at the statement, as Y/N slowly leaned back, obviously waiting for him to say something.

He then let out a low laugh, once again not sure what he was supposed to say. , That's... surprising.." The young teacher then slowly shook her head. , Well..." she shortly after said looking back up. , Just remember that he adores you a lot... oh and with that being said... You should read through this. This is just one of Genya's amazing essays he has written." the smile was back on her face, easing the tension between the two adults.

She handed him over an essay his little brother wrote, he knew he was supposed to read through it, but oh god he was just so distracted by her.  So he just had to pretend he was reading, while in reality he still tried to get over the beauty of this woman in front of him. He wasn't usually the type to show affection towards anyone, nor fall for someone this easily. But she, for some odd reason, got him all riled up.

, So...?" the younger woman nagged, curious about what Sanemi was going to say. , I'm surprised that my brother is actually this good." She nodded, agreeing with him. , He indeed is very good."

Sanemi had to confess, he hated the way she was praising his brother, for basically everything he did. Of course, she was his teacher and was actually supposed to say these things and yet he felt like she shouldn't praise his brother, but him. Yes, she should praise him, however, she probably knew too little to even be able to praise him. Damn, they have only ever met. So where did this sudden jealousy come from? And why only after they have met? It would've made so much more sense if it happened months after they've met, but now? After literally 10 minutes. Stupid, he thought, that was just stupid.

No, he was stupid.

, Is that all?" Sanemi looked at the small figure in front of him, still, inside he was hoping she wouldn't let him go so easily, that she would keep him here a little longer.

, Hmm... let me think.." she went through her bag, that she had now on her lap, looking for things she still had to mention before she would let him go. , Ah yes.. here." she handed him a few brochures of Universities, smiling at him. , You should start talking with him about applying to a few Universities. Probably these in particular. They'd fit him really well.''

Sanemi grasped the brochures and went through them, just then he noticed those were high qualified Universities. Even the one he went to himself, was listed as well, which made him feel some kind of pride.

, I hope you have realized that those Universities are popular amongst qualified students." - , I know," he answered as he pointed at his former University. , After all, mine is listed as well." Her eyes widened in surprise as she took a glance at where his finger was pointing at. , Tohoku University?" She was amazed, he could see that right away. The way she just looked at the brochure and her tiny hand that was placed right in front of her mouth.

, Yes indeed, but I don't see why my little brother-" she shushed him without hesitation, suddenly standing up and looking him in the eye. , Mr. Shinazugawa, your brother is a smart and a very skilled person! You should encourage him to go to Tohaku University as well!" this time she wasn't saying it to just sound nice, no it was the other way around. She said it because she actually meant it. She was dead serious about this. , Why... just why do you think he is that great?"

She slowly sat down again, a small smile forming on her lips. , Because he's just as great as his bigger brother." Sanemi was shocked, no not shocked but rather.. surprised, yet, she didn't hesitate to add more to this statement of hers. , Now that I've met you, I can totally see the resemblance. He's just like you and I totally see why he has chosen you as his role model."

He was once again astonished. , Has- has he said that?'' She nods, as she watched him. , Yes he did. He has mentioned you a few times. Fact is, he looks up to you, so I've guessed you must be an amazing brother.''

Part of him was embarrassed and wanted to disappear right away, the other part however was full of pride, thanking his brother for talking so highly about him in front of his teacher. The teacher that left him speechless.

So, sanemi smiled a little, looking away und scratching his neck as he did so. , Guess my brother wants to be a Mathematics major as well, huh.'' She hummed in response as she put away his little brother's folder. , Well... I guess we have talked about everything. Is there anything you want to add, or mention?''  Sanemi started to search for something, but obviously, there was nothing he could think about. She had probably mentioned everything she wanted to talk about and he, well he didn't want to attend the parent's evening, to begin with. So, he sighed and shook his head.

There was nothing, and with that disappointment came. He didn't want to go yet, but he couldn't just possibly stay here and talk to her any longer, let alone ask her out. That would probably seem to be very rude. But little did he know, that she just felt the same.

The sudden silence that lingered between him and her, made both of them nervous and uncomfortable.

, Then... I guess there is no reason for me to hold you back any longer.'' she was the first one to break the silence, and oh god he most definitely didn't want to hear these words. And yet, he played it off cool, getting up and marching towards the door. But before he could even reach the door, she suddenly spoke again, stuttering at the beginning. , M-Mr. Shinazugawa?''

Sanemi turned around, glancing at her. He then realized that she seemed... somewhat nervous. But why?

, I know... this is probably inappropriate to ask... but... would you mind joining me for coffee once..?'' Without even thinking, he answered, I would love to.'' and with that, he smiled at her as he exited the room and leaving the young woman perplexed.

Strolling through the building, he realized that there was a stupid little smile plastered across his face. Oh these feelings, so exotic and wild. He was not used to them, but somewhat liked the thrilling feeling.

Falling for someone wasn't even that bad.

[rosy-cheekx]

“You’re such a dork.” for the emotional writing prompts! I don't know anything about critical role, really, so for TMA :)

I spy, with my little eye, Bryce’s attempts to shove her own interests into her fics. Anyways, I am an American in college so I was basing this on my own experiences oops. Enjoy!

Date night was Wednesday evenings. Jon and Martin both found it preferable for a variety of reasons; it was the most likely nights for happy hours at the pubs in town, guaranteeing a cheap drink, and keeping to a weekday night minimized the chance of Jon seeing one of his students out. He hated seeing his students. Not that he hated them of course, he really rather liked them…not that they would ever know that. Being a professor, of parapsychology of all things, was rather rewarding. He knew the content inside and out (it felt good, using the mark of The Eye to actively work against it, to pass along information instead of consuming). And they didn’t seem to mind him either.

That was the thing about university students. They really didn’t care about who he was or where he came from. The fact that he was a scrawny, scarred Englishman in a lecture hall in Scotland didn’t matter to them. In the classroom, all they cared was whether he taught the material well (he did) and was kind to those with late assignments (he was. He had been a university student once too; he remembered the anxiety and depression that took him and his mates in waves). He was a good professor; Jon knew that objectively in the marks his students received. But in the subjective? His student had decided they liked him.

This had dawned on him at the end of his first semester; when he was inundated with emails of sincere thank-you for a great semester, for being such a helpful teacher, for taking the time to help review, et cetera. Martin had grinned at him, poking a tongue out his mouth and making some remark about teacher’s pets coming full circle (Jon was never a teacher’s pet though. He had always asked too many questions. He welcomed those questions with open arms now, to be the teacher he hadn’t had.)

The next semester it had been more obvious that students liked him now that he knew where to look. It was in the open “good-mornings” and questions about his weekend plans, and in the fact that he had the best attendance records of his department. It was in the way they asked genuine questions about his material and the waitlists miles long to get into his sections. Later on, it was in the gentle ribbings about his looking tired and the grey hairs even as they celebrated his fortieth birthday with him, bringing in cupcakes and sneaking in between lectures to decorate his office and the sincere questions over his scars, his life, his relationship with Martin (his introductory lecture always featured Martin and Her Regency, their thick orange tabby). To make eight wonderful semesters short, he was familiar with his students, and they weren’t afraid to be familiar back. Which was wonderful in the classroom and all, but not when he was trying have a relaxing evening with his husband.

Which brings them back to Wednesdays. Wednesdays were the days least likely to have students out in town, he had learned from Dr. Kerrigan, the positive psych professor, because Thirsty Thursdays started off the weekend’s partying and drinking for the undergraduates. Wednesday was the day students, in theory, buckled down to finish homework and give themselves a free weekend.

So here they were, Martin in a collared shirt, printed with tiny flowers, and jeans, hair bleached white from the Lonely and curling softly at his temples; Jon in a slouchy ribbed turtleneck and high-waisted pants, his own thick curls half-piled atop his head. Jon was listening intently as Martin spoke animatedly, talking about his own day as a guidance counselor at the local primary school.

“…and I swear Jon, if it wasn’t bad enough that Kimmy has decided never to speak to Lawrence again, now Lawrence has confided in me that he is positively in love with her.”

“Did he say that verbatim? In love, I mean.”

“I mean, no, but he said he was willing to give her all his Squishmallows for a playdate. Squishmallows. That’s real eight-year-old commitment, right there.”

Jon barked out a laugh and put on a puppy-eyed expression, grinning all the while. “Martin Blackwood, do you hereby take Jonathan Sim’s stuffed animals, to have and to ho-”

A gentle swat to the knee with Martin’s shoe cut Jon off. “Oi! Respect my children. They may be fools but its not their faults their brains aren’t developed yet. And yes, I know, ‘they’re not developed ‘til twenty-five and you can argue that your students’ brains aren’t developed either.’ But it’s different. They’re babies.”

“And I’m the All-Knowing One,” Jon mused thoughtfully around a forkful of food, earning him another love-filled kick.

“Speaking of,” Martin pointed to Jon with his glass, eyeing him deliberately. “Midterms next week, yeah? How do you think it’ll go?”

Jon shrugged, scratching at the back of his neck. “Alright, I hope. First exam went well but could’ve been better. I’m worried about Avonni, honestly, he’s nodded off a few times in class and I’m not confident he has someone to get the material from.”

“He has you.” A pointed, snow-white eyebrow.

“Right, but sometimes students don’t want to ask for notes because they think I’ll say no. Maybe I should email him. Speaking of email! Did I tell you what Suzanne sent out?”

“Oh no, what?”

They carried on like this through their meal and into dessert, and not for the first time Jon was struck by the sheer normalcy of it all. His greatest concerns were Suzanne’s passive-aggressive emails and his students, not the inevitable destruction of reality as they knew it to be. They were scarred, inside and out, everyone who had escaped The Magnus Institute was, but they were safe and free and happy. In defiance of everything that had happened to and because of them.

“Dr. Sims!”

Uh oh. Spoke too soon.

Bite of lava cake halfway to his mouth, Jon squeezed his eyes shut, rolling his eyes back in his head and willing there to be another professor with the surname Sims in the restaurant. When he opened his eyes, Martin was valiantly trying to suppress a smile as he eyed something, someone, over his head. Jon twisted awkwardly in his seat to see—

“Parker. What a surprise.” His voice was warm but carefully measured, and the dark-skinned boy waved, shit-eating grin on his face. “I have told you that you can call me Jon.”

“Yeah, I know, but you earned that doctorate! And “Doctor Jon” sounds awful, like you should have your own show or something.”

He hadn’t earned that doctorate, actually, but Martin’s expertise in lying and the disastrous apocalypse that had left everyone disoriented meant it had been easy to exaggerate some of Jon’s CV and manufacture a fake diploma.

“I do have my own show. Monday and Wednesday mornings, where I teach a bunch of caffeinated undergrads parapsychology,” Jon replied easily. “You’re welcome to tune in.” He liked Parker; he was a bit of a class clown, liked to ask off-topic questions or pretend to sneak a look at Jon’s answer sheets, but he was sharp and knew his stuff. Jon respected that. He reminded Jon of someone he dearly missed.

But Parker had already turned his attention to Martin, who was watching the interaction with mirth in his eyes. “Hello sir! I’m Parker McMichael, Jon’s favorite student.” Martin shook the extended hand and nodded in mock seriousness.

“Of course. Pleasure to finally meet you. Are you the one with the essay on ESP or the one on psychokinesis?”

“Neither,” Parker shook his head proudly, short dreads swaying gently with the movement. “The Validity and Continuity of Near-Death Experiences,” he made a mock marquee with his hands, arching curved fingers to indicate the title hanging in the air. “Researching any consistencies in near-death experiences stories, whether they’re legitimate, and what they mean if they are. But-” Parker shook his head and turned his attention back to Jon. “That’s not why I’m interrupting.” He took his phone out of pocket idly as he spoke. “I’m afraid I’ve come to settle a dispute among the 11 a.m. section.”

Oh no.

The Ceaseless Watcher whispered to him, unbidden, the dispute in question. Jon generally knew how to suppress the powers, and they were weaker than they had been, once upon a time, but when he’s caught off guard with the desire to know, to Know, it could still overtake him.

“This you?” A blurry screenshot of a Youtube video is shoved under his nose, a part of a text chain titled Sim’s Spoopy Spirits, captioned by many text bubbles expressing disbelief and objections and a variety of emojis. Jon took the phone and examined it, the truth already sure in his chest. Yes, that was him, dressed in his Jonny d’Ville costume, eyeliner streaked and eyes closed, mid-ballad. God, he wished he could be rid of those Youtube videos.

Jon’s gaping silence must have been enough of an answer for Parker because he whooped a little too loudly for the restaurant they were in and pumped his fist to his chest before typing very quickly on his phone. “I knew it! Take that Sabina,” he was mumbling to himself, lost in his texts for a moment.

Martin took the opportunity to clear his throat. “Sorry, uh, no one’s asked so I will. How did you know to look for him-us-here?” Jon frowned, He hadn’t thought about that.

“Oh, a couple of my mates work here and mentioned seeing Dr. Sims and his husband here a lot on Wednesdays and I dunno about you so much, but Dr. Sims is pretty habitual. Figured it was as good a guess as any. Some things can’t wait til Monday.”

“..an email. Parker. You could’ve sent me an email.” Fingers ran over scarred face, as if he could wipe the irritation (and Martin’s poorly-hidden laugh) from existence.

“But then I couldn’t do this.” His phone was back up again, level with his own face and he twisted so both his own and Jon’s faces were in the shot. “I’m here at 7:02 pm on Wednesday the 26, here to make a very important announcement,” Parker spoke to the camera with confidence. “Dr. Sims just confirmed to me that he is the one, the only, Jonny d’Ville.” Parker held the camera to Jon’s voice. “Anything to say to your adoring fans?”

Jon sighed and tugged on an errant curl. “Don’t forget, reading due Monday.” He wasn’t genuinely upset with Parker, just filled with fond embarrassment.

Parker sent the video off and clapped the back of Jon’s chair. “Well, Dr. D’Ville, its been a pleasure. Everyone’s really excited to get a confirmation on your status of coolest teacher. Any plans for the evening?”

Jon sighed through his lower lip, stray curls framing his scalp flying upward in the sudden burst of wind. “Watching a documentary and trying to forget—wait. What?”

“Oh yeah no, everyone thinks it’s badass. You’ve got a super nice voice and the stories you told were really interesting, if a little buckwild.”

Jon felt his cheeks flush and Martin grinned slyly at him from across the table. “Y-Yes. I guess we were rather good.”

Parker gave his farewells and Jon’s shoulders sagged (he had immediately righted his posture on seeing Parker, his grandmother’s voice in his ear reminding him of his manners), turning his full attention back to his husband. Martin had maintained that grin and was eyeing him intensely, like he expected Jon to say something.

“What, Martin?”

“God, you’re such a dork.” The words were soft, expression fond, and Jon could feel the radiation of unadulterated love Martin gave off in his smile, the one only ever used for Jon. “You really love your students, don’t you? You know how much they love you, right?”

Jon grumbled, but he couldn’t quite sweep the smile off his face either as their waiter made his way over with their check.

“No comment. But we are switching to Tuesday date nights.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How Big Tech distorts discourse

On Jul 1, I'm  giving a seminar on how Big Tech distorts our discourse for the Oxford Internet Institute. It's free to attend, but you need to RSVP:

https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/6015930181073/WN_MnlH5x2XTRqiKKmhU0QPAg

This is a really urgent question, since it's pretty clear that our discourse is a mess, from fake news to conspiracism to the rise of authoritarian, genocidal movements.

The dominant explanation for this is that Big Tech accidentally created a mind-control ray.

They wanted to sell us fidget spinners, but in perfecting the tools to bypass our critical faculties in order to sell us stuff, they inadvertently created a superweapon that the worst people on Earth are using to turn us into eugenicist end-time preppers.

I think we should be skeptical of this claim. Everyone (until now) who's claimed to have invented a form of mind-control was a charlatan or a deluded fool (or both). Big Tech's claims to having perfected the tools of persuasion are self-serving and unreliable.

Big Tech wants its advertisers to believe that machine learning and mass surveillance can sell fidget spinners to anyone, so they repeatedly make claims to having perfected mind-control. These claims are marketing puffery, not peer-reviewed science.

I think there's a simpler explanation for our distorted discourse: Big Tech has used lax anti-monopoly enforcement to create an environment where a handful of companies dominate what information we see and how we can discuss it.

This means that anyone who hijacks the system - evil SEO scum, etc - can inject false claims into our discourse in ways that seem true (if you ask Google for the age of a celeb or a pol, you'll probably accept the answer, even if it turns out wrong).

It also means that people with disfavored views - some of which I support (Black Lives Matter), others I despise (white nationalism) - can find each other without risking social sanction by publicly proclaiming their views.

And it means that people who have lost trust in the system - for good reasons, such as the skepticism of pharma regulation on the part of survivors of the opioid epidemic - can be easily located by those whose core message is that experts are corrupt.

If our discourse is poisoned by monopolism and corrupt institutions, it's both bad and good news: good news because we have no idea what to do to fight mind-control rays, while in theory it's simple (but hard) to fix monopolies and bad institutions.

The bad news is that both of those can be VERY hard, but on the other hand, there's rising political will to make institutions accountable and break up oligarchic markets from all sides, and not just for tech - these problems plague every sector.

The coalition possibilities are dazzling.

I wrote up a preliminary essay about this for EFF Deeplinks, and I've got a 37,000-word pamphlet on the subject coming soon.

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/05/how-big-tech-monopolies-distort-our-public-discourse

I hope to see you on the first of July!

https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/6015930181073/WN_MnlH5x2XTRqiKKmhU0QPAg

[madamewriterofwrongs]

May and the Rainbow Kingdom

911/Buck & May

Written for @cirrius-akiyo who wanted a Buck & May friendship.

The station was unusually quiet when she walked through the front door. The trucks were still in their place, being polished and restocked by other crew members – most of whom paid her no mind or recognized her as the ‘captain’s kid’. She’d only been called that once, but she remembered the uneasy feeling and the sneer of the probationary officer’s voice. A well-practiced eyebrow raised, and her best customer service smile, ensured he never bothered her again.

Today she wasn’t here as the ‘captain’s kid’, she was here as a friend in need of help from another – older and wiser – friend. A glance at the ambulance missing from its usual station dampened her expectations slightly.

“Hey, May.” She looked up to see a familiar face waving at her from the loft and she jogged to meet him.

“Hey, Buck. I was hoping to talk to Hen, is she around?”

The blond-haired firefighter returned to his task of tidying the upper floor (the table smelt comfortingly of bleach and lemon so he was nearly done) while she knelt on the couch to watch him work.

“Sorry; she just left on a call with Chim and Bobby. Is there anything I can help you with?”

She tried to keep the dejected sigh from her voice. “How versed are you on Bioethics of Non-Existence?”

It was almost comical, the way Buck paused in his sweeping to take in her question. “I definitely recognize some of those words.”

As she suspected; May turned to collapse onto the couch with a groan. “I really needed to talk to Hen.” Not that she didn’t trust the other adults in her life – Maddie had tried to help, but she’d been out of Medicine for too long – Hen was her last hope.

“School going that well, huh?” She didn’t have to look to hear the amusement in the man’s voice.

“It’s actually pretty good.” She admitted, still slumped half-off the couch. “I just have mt midterm on Friday and I really need someone who can test me on this stuff.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a handle on it. You were always a smart kid.”

May did smile at that. It was easier to accept being called a child from someone who actually knew her as a child. Granted, she and Buck weren’t overly close, but he was always nice to her, and Bobby seemed fond of him.

“I’ve studied this stuff over and over but I just don’t feel ready” she admitted to the ceiling. Maybe Buck should clean those rafters (he was certainly tall enough). Better yet, maybe she could do it. “I either need a distraction or another month of review.”

Maybe if she hid out at the station, she could lie to her professor and say she had a medical emergency. Or maybe, she could convince him to let her take her exam tomorrow and put her out of her misery. She hated the waiting game. The more she reviewed the material, the less secure she felt in her knowledge. It just needed to be over and done with so she could start stressing about the next thing. Her English essay was due next week. It could use a third rewrite.

“I don’t know about the review.” Visions of Buck peering over top of her, pulled May out of her spiral. “But if you’re in need of a distraction, I could use a co-babysitter tonight. I’m watching Christopher while Eddie’s out on a date and I’m sure he’d love to hang out with you.”

An evening spent with her stepdad’s friend, and her stepdad’s other friend’s son was not exactly what she had in mind for a Monday night, but it was better than nothing. Besides, she liked Christopher well enough; he was a cute kid with a sensible head on his shoulders. And Buck was nice – if a little bit accident-prone for the amount of times she’d visited him in the hospital – plus it was an excuse to get out of her routine for a few hours. Maybe she could come early and ask Eddie some questions (an army medic had to have some thoughts on ethics in medicine, right?).

“Sure,” she smiled up at him. “why not?”

Which was how May found herself squished between a surprisingly calm 10-year-old, and an overly-energetic 29-year-old, splitting the difference as she scrolled through their Netflix Kids’ queue.

Christopher had insisted that they didn’t need to use the kid’s channel as he was absolutely old enough to handle all the scary movies. She remembered Harry, not too long ago, with the same attitude (along with the same nightmare he’d had for weeks about a clown in a sewer). While Buck didn’t have the same experience, he was with her decision to stick to the lighter stuff for tonight. Perhaps he was being overly cautious as he always was with the boy.

Everyone in their circle knew about how Buck had saved Christopher during the tsunami and how close the three of them had become afterwards. It was no wonder he wanted to do everything in his power to protect him – even from the CGI monsters.

As they continued to scroll, she paused on their ‘Continue Watching’ bar, to see if there was anything they wanted pick up. She wasn’t about to watch whatever they chose for their post-dinner treat; she had her textbook and laptop in her bag all charged up.

Just as she was about to continue the search for the perfect movie, her eye caught one of the titles with a half-full red bar and shot a confused glance to Buck. The man kept his eyes purposefully trained on the screen, eyes darting to hers once, as a sign that he knew what she was looking at. Still, he showed no sign of explaining himself so she moved on. For now.

They ended up settling on one of the dinosaur documentary movies, but May kept her promise to herself and reviewed through the entire 90-minute event. It was easy enough to tune out, the graphics were fine, the story was predictable, but at least the boys on either side seemed to be enjoying themselves. Every once in a while, Buck would elbow her to pull her attention back to the screen but it never held her interest for more than a few minutes. Then Christopher would do the same, asking her questions or feeding her facts about the various dinosaurs. That did help for a little while, but even that kid’s endless enthusiasm couldn’t keep back the voice in her head that told her she should be studying.

As far distractions went, this night seemed to be a bust.

When she heard the water run in the bathroom, signally the beginning of Christopher’s bedtime routine, May found herself reaching for the remote once again; if only to keep her hands occupied while she waited to say goodbye to Buck. The least she could do was thank him for his attempt to distract her – even if it had failed.

That was when she found the ‘Continue Watching’ bar once again, and her curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s True and the Rainbow Kingdom?” she asked once her companion had returned. “’Cause it doesn’t seem like something Christopher would be into.”

Buck huffed as he flopped on the couch next to her. “Okay,” he began his confession by raising his hands in surrender. “I watched an episode to see if it was something that’d be appropriate for Nia, but I kind of started watching it on my own.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really” he matched her mocking tone. “Not all the time. But I’ll admit, when I’m having a bad day, it’s nice to turn my brain off with some mindless fun.”

She wasn’t laughing at him – maybe she was, but she wouldn’t tell him that – it was that the image of this grown man, sitting at home, watching what was clearly a Sophia the First carbon copy (if the design was to be believed), was very amusing to her.

“Wow, I see how it is.” Buck lightly pushed May as she shuffled over to create more space. “I try and help and instead you mock me. Very nice.”

Even as a joke, she saw his point and the laughter turned into a smile, which morphed into an eyeroll.

“You’ve got to admit, this doesn’t exactly fit your image.”

“I have no image” he protested. “I’m allowed to like whatever I like.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I text my mom that” she had barely begun picking up her phone from the coffee table, when he reached the device first.

“Don’t you dare.” More laughter did make her heart feel a little lighter.

He only handed her phone back once she’d half-heartedly agreed not to text her mom this fresh blackmail material. “I bet you’d like it. It’s about a girl and a cat, and she gets these wishes from a tree, and she uses them to help others.”

“The cat gets wishes?”

“Just” Buck rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote from the cushion between them. “we’re going to watch it right now.”

Without waiting for her response, Buck tapped the first episode and shushed her failed attempt to protest.

The first scene introduced a reasonably catchy theme song with bright colours, along with the main character True and her talking black cat named Bartleby. There was something about a party and a bitchy princess and a weird walking pill they called…something Banjo? Admittedly, when the cat said something sarcastic towards the girls, she cracked a smile, but her mind was still reviewing the differences between Potter’s and Callahan’s philosophies.

The next time she tuned back into the episode, they were sitting on mushroom stools under a tree, attempting to solve a problem as a group. When they took a deep breath, May found herself exhaling with them, and her forehead ached from holding tension for so long. Admittedly, it felt nice to relax her shoulders.

Okay, so this was clearly a kids’ show and nothing else. Mining wishes from a tree and using a book to decipher what all the wishes could do, as though they were Pokémon characters.  It was ridiculous, why was she still watching this? She needed to get home to study.  

“Sure, they get to use the ‘wishopedia’ but my professor won’t let me use Wikipedia as a starting source?” she grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” She startled when Buck smirked at her.

May tucked back into the arm of the couch with a half-hearted glare. “Nothing.”

She really should be reviewing. The more time she wasted outside of the classroom, the worse her chances of success. She shouldn’t be wasting her time watching this kids’ monstrosity. This really was a stupid show. Why would True forgive Grizelda after she was such a bitch to Bingo-Bango? She was always so positive and patient. And she only used her special powers to help people. That was pretty nice.

That theme song was pretty catchy.

Before she knew it, she was four episodes in, watching two mushroom people win a motor race after everyone got detoured by falling crystals and Grizelda being a bitch (again).

“She should just toss the Cu-Bigly over the cliff and then throw Grizelda.” At Buck’s look of amused indignation, she shrugged. “What? She deserves it for sabotaging the race. It’s not like she’d die from that height.”

A quick glance at her phone told her it was after ten and she had a class in the morning. What astonished her most, was that she hadn’t thought about her course work in an hour. For the first time since starting university, she’d let herself escape her thoughts just for a little while; and honestly, she felt lighter for it.

Still unbelievably guilty for not spending every waking moment of her life preparing for her next test or assignment – but just a little bit lighter.

“Hey, Buck?” She turned to the man barely hiding the fact that he’d begun to doze off. May smirked when he awoke with a snort. “Thanks for your help, I really needed this.”

For a moment, she saw the ‘puppy dog’ that her mom liked to call him: the puffed chest and kind smile and excited eyes. She saw what won over her, somewhat cynical, mother; it made her smile brighter.

“Glad I could help.”

Buck was scrolling mindlessly through his phone two weeks later, when it buzzed with a new text notification, and his mood instantly improved.

87%

Also I may have finished the first season of TatRK

I totally ship True and Zee

Do you want me to wait for you to catch up?

“Hey, May passed her Bioethics Mid-Term” he announced to his friends sitting in the loft; the rest, he would keep as his own reward for a job well done.

Bobby looked up from his usual place in the kitchen, buttering a pan for some dish most of them wouldn’t get to eat. “Since when did May start telling you about her exam results?”

There was no honest answer that wouldn’t make him feel embarrassed, but Buck blushed regardless. “I, uh, helped her study.”

Eddie slapped his shoulder jovially as he passed on his way to grab a bottle of water. “Is there something you want to tell us? You have a secret Bioethics degree?”

Buck brushed him off with a smile. “No, but you do what you can to help out family, right?”

His eyes met with his Captain’s and there was a fondness he only saw with May and Harry. Something he hadn’t seen for himself in a long while.

“Yeah, kid, you do.”

[notasiren21]

To those who want to kill themselves:

I’m not going to sugarcoat this at all. I’ll be gentle at times and then rather aggressive. And for good reason...

Because you deserve to fucking live.

I’m aware there’s blatant bullying, discreet and subtle bullying that makes you question if you’re just being sensitive and taking things too seriously (most of the time you’re not, trust me), neglect, familial issues, and then situational instances that pound into your heart and head consistently.

Believe it or not, but the cliché term of “it does get better” is true, just as long as you yourself is willing to check its validity and try.

I thought of several ways like drowning myself in the bathtub and hoping my fingertips would slip on the rims so I couldn’t pull myself up when my body got weak/ holding a knife to my chest while crying/ contemplating on just taking those three steps into the road when I was supposed to get the mail/ jumping off my balcony/ finishing off my oxycodone pills from a wisdom teeth surgery/ etc.

Maybe I’m a coward or was weak, but I could never follow through with it. Just left with that same bottle lying in a medicine basket somewhere or had a brief puncture mark on my chest that just broke the skin with the tip, whatever.

Crying myself to sleep almost every night because it was too much.

Honestly, I think being a coward and weak was the best thing to happen to me.

I lost a boyfriend from how much my anxiety and suicidal thoughts consumed me and had to tell my parents why I was dumped which led to me seeing their faces when I fessed up and said “I’m not happy, I’m not okay”.

It’s funny because I’ve had a cry for help several times through stuff I’ve written and published on fanfic sites, stuff I’ve given to my teacher to read senior year, literally telling my AP Lit class two years ago I was depressed and thought suicidal shit (only 8 of us in that class and teacher) and being told “it’s just like that sometimes, gotta shake it off”, “don’t let people’s words get to you”, “yea, same” and having a teacher pretend like she heard nothing.

That one time I was brave, and I was waved off.

I know there are times where you finally find your voice for that one split second and then you’re ignored, and you feel yourself rescinding back to mute and distant.

I know you’re plastering a smile on constantly to fool others because you’re afraid what will happen when they find out.

It sucks, doesn’t it?

When you hear so many voices in your head playing that record on repeat of the things you most want to forget. Having those nightmares occur where someone takes the final step to push you to your edge. Seeing the annoyed rolling of eyes or blatant show of disinterest of you.

Nine years of schooling, because after 3rd grade, I was just one of those girls who females decided to hate for breathing or asking a question. So nine years I was trying not to victimize myself in my head and justifying why everyone acted the way they did to me.

Teenage girls and teachers alike made my life hell. The girls never gave me the chance and teachers treated me like I was some lost cause that couldn’t even make it to merit roll and like my work was shit.

“Oh, you sure you can make it into the media production film? I don’t think you’ll be able to make shows like you planned. Maybe try for something else.”

“Your writing is, it’s okay. Try harder next time.”

I struggled with grades in high school and wondered if I’d even graduate.

I made the president’s list my first year of college. Got straight A’s. My English professors loved to leave excited feedback on my essays and were amazed how quickly I could conjure one up and fix my own mistakes before peer review.

My professors talked about me to one another and when I met the new ones, they already knew of me.

My history professor begged me to write a poem for a book he’s writing and publishing near 2021.

My creative writing professor attacked me with an email of compliments over a chapter book of poems I wrote where i took them in the order written so it was me at my worst, to me fooling myself, to me losing and falling back, to me trying for help, to me being the best I’ve ever been. >I also made him cry in a class writing experiment with less than 300 words.

(Idk maybe the bitch is that sensitive but he was chill)

My point is: fucking block out what other people say or do to you. Tell someone you trust you need help and stop kidding yourself.

And please, for the love of god, if it is really that bad then do not make yourself so naive into believing a friend or partner can take the brunt of it all and fix you.

It may work for some time, but if you’re still suffering, they will too and neither of you will win in the end.

I took to therapy and it worked. And I dropped all the toxic shit out of my life and moved on.

I may not use social media besides Tumblr or Discord, but I’m more present in life than I was before and not comparing myself to others anymore.

I dropped friends that made me feel bad and bashed things I liked or would cause issues and I have a peace of mind (as much as one can have one during a pandemic and such).

Get the help. Find ways to receive help if you can’t financially afford it. Find that courage to tell someone you trust that listens to you that you are suffering and need that professional help and to be taken seriously.

I was the first to walk the graduation stage of my 2019 class, and I thought I’d be the first of us to die because I couldn’t move past everything I’ve endured from a large majority of them.

I would’ve missed how positively my life turned around.

I would’ve destroyed my parents, little sister, and brother for being so selfish.

I’m the middle child, the good kid with a career in mind and the mediator of the family. And I’m used to not being the favorite but appreciated one.

My dad confessed to me that I was his favorite and I never want to hear it again.

You never want to hear a man you see as the strongest person you know say that while trying not to cry and keep his voice normal, you don’t want to hear “You were always my favorite” said in such a thick voice it brings tears to your eyes.

Your life matters.

This isn’t Sims where you can move on to the next household member. This isn’t like throwing LEGO R2-D2 off a cliff with that iconic scream only or lose a few coins. This isn’t a fucking game.

And I am so sick of hearing people treat it like some quest you get once in your life:

“You’ll be okay.”

“Cheer up.”

“It’s just a phase.”

Etc.

It’s all fucking bullshit. We live in a world that sugarcoats the severity of someone’s life when it’s presented in front of us while on the precipice of shattering.

You deserve to live. Anyone who tells you otherwise is the one who loses the right to be considered human or a person, not you.

Do not let someone dictate your life’s outcome because they don’t agree with you or like you.

And please, for all that is good in this world, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re alright when you don’t feel it.

Hang in for one extra day to gather the strength and tell someone you need help.

Everyone acts so ashamed of it but it was the best thing that happened to me after being such a weak coward and now, I’m genuinely happy. And it was a lot of work to get here.

Want to know where all my angst and suffering had gone to? Just ask the characters in the books and fanfic content I’ve written. I’m sure they don’t appreciate it, but those stories wouldn’t exist if I gave up then.

And believe it or not, people will fucking miss you like hell if you killed yourself. It’s just too hard to see it right now and I was blinded before too.

Not everyone has the same opinion of you. Not everyone matters in your life.

You’re living this life singlehandedly by yourself while surrounded by others experiencing the same thing. Don’t let that opportunity go to waste.

And if you need distractions, indulge yourself in the harmless guilty pleasures like I do.

It can get better if you just open yourself to it.

It can get better if you get help.

You really must be so tired, isn’t it time you stopped pretending?

[emmys-grimoire]

Season 2 review

It is done!

I’ll preface this review with the obvious but nevertheless important: these are my opinions. I am fine with others criticizing my opinions, mind you, but I’m usually disinclined to changing them. Like most opinionated people.

And as with most things covered in this blog, spoilers ahead. Don’t read it if you don’t like ‘em.

The Good

I believe the devs did the side characters justice in terms of character development, which is impressive because they have to fixate on seven other characters for most of the story (the demon brothers are the draw, afterall). It’s a little frustrating because it shows they are capable of revealing a lot about a character in just a single conversation, but they spend a great deal of their time on fluff. It is nothing unsurprising given the aim of the game as a whole (romantic fantasy/escapism), but it does detract from… well, everything else. If you don’t care about everything else, this doesn’t matter. If you’re one of the few who do, like me, you’re in for a drought before you get to the next juicy story morsel. Alas, that is the price we pay.

But, this is ‘the Good’ section of the review, so I will focus on that. Diavolo, Luke, Simeon, and Solomon get fleshed out more than they did in the previous season as promised, and their growing closeness to MC doesn’t feel hamfisted; there’s little realistic hooks strewn throughout that makes the relationships grow organically compared to, say, the newt syrup arc.

At the end of the season MC is set to become Solomon’s new apprentice, they are now instrumental in Diavolo’s plan for realm-wide peace instead of just being a particularly charming exchange student, Simeon is more interested in learning more about MC due to MC’s meddling during the retreat and their performance in his play, and Luke finally can bring himself to admit that he actually enjoys being in the Devildom. Michael is being alluded to more and more and finally drops in to say hi, even though the game stops short of explicitly revealing that it is him. It all feels like a good transition into more romantic things with them in the next season, and I look forward to exploring more hidden depths.

I am relieved they steered away from additional time travel due to its potential to confuse everyone and everything. We need to learn what the deal is with Barbatos but I’m sure it can be done without meddling with the time continuum. The introduction of the Reaper has interesting worldbuilding implications: the souls of all beings are overseen by what appears to be an unaligned third party, though prior lore implies that the departed souls still return to their respective realms (Lilith allegedly forgot how to ascend to the Celestial Realm in her desire to watch over her siblings). But, like with Michael, they avoided actually showing him by having him take a vacation right before Solomon and the brothers arrive.

On the whole, I’m happy with the season’s ending. It’s probably as good as it can get, and sets up the next season well -- assuming there is one (I think there will be).

The Bad

It’s hard to frame this because there were never any explicit promises made but wow was the build-up wasted and the climax went down dry.

Diavolo’s wishy-washiness and reluctance to tell Lucifer about how MC’s presence was slowly tearing the Devildom asunder, his growing jealousy and his doubt in the strength of Lucifer’s loyalty, the foreshadowing in Simeon’s play, Barbatos warning Lucifer that one day he may need to choose between Diavolo and MC/his family and how he was reverting back to his angelic self, the very foreboding storm that was brewing outside, how Lucifer was certain “something bad” was about to happen… all that juicy potential rendered impotent because of the Ring of Light and amnesia.

It didn’t lead to a tortured, difficult choice Lucifer had to make that had the potential to put either his relationships or the realms in jeopardy -- and it really felt like it was headed in that direction. But it couldn’t really lead there because Lucifer lost his memories, and he was just re-familiarizing himself with all those relationships. Instead we had to choose whether or not we let Lucifer martyr himself, and of course he’s willing to do that because he loves us even if his memories aren’t fully intact, and it’s heavily implied that he’s his angel-like self again. The choices we made during the play don’t really come into fruition, and the Ring of Light helps make our choice ultimately irrelevant anyway.

It felt like they winded up for the pitch and then lost their nerve.

Though I’d argue that Lucifer would ultimately be okay with sacrificing himself for MC and the realms even if he was still his full-fledged, assholish demon self… but it definitely felt like fate was going to make him choose between his loyalty and his love. You know, the whole “love is the death of duty”/”duty is the death of love” shebang. It would have been more rewarding -- they can even let the Ring of Light ultimately fix everything and I’d be happy if it was that dilemma! But this isn’t Game of Thrones, so I can’t be too disappointed that my expectations weren’t met.

If you like Lucifer and Mammon fluff, this season gives it in spades. If neither of those two are your favorite you might have been bummed out. They give Asmo an arc but he ultimately concludes he was trying too hard to be like Lucifer which left me all ?????? How? Satan tutors you, but he doesn’t really deviate from what he usually does (though his minor tiff with Simeon when he’s physically affectionate with us was amusing). The devs did suggest they want to explore Satan’s origins more thoroughly in the future in one of the newsletters, and I think we’re due for that in the next season. There’s hope for the others yet... just not much in this season.

The Future?

I think there’s a high probability that we’ll get a season 3. Nothing about season 2’s ending felt like they were wrapping things up. The season as a whole felt like a transition.

I think we’ll get more romantic scenes with our “undateables” and they won’t officially be considered “undateables” any more. We’ll probably get more cards with them. I’m not sure if they’ll fully graduate into dance battle sprites because that’ll require more creative color assignments for glow sticks, but I wouldn’t entirely discount the possibility. There are many shades in the rainbow.

I think worldbuilding necessitates more exploration of the Celestial Realm, and an eventual conclusion to the game storyline requires officially mending relations between the angels and demons and healing the wounds incurred by both the wars of the distant past and the Great Celestial War (which was essentially a civil war). Such a thing requires an honest dialogue between the two factions for it to ring sincere, not just a continuation of the exchange program. The game doesn’t hesitate in stating how violent all of it was.

To that end, I think we’re going to at least get a full-fledged Michael eventually, though I understand the reluctance to add him due to the work that will follow in adding another handsome man fans will undoubtedly want to make blush and kiss. They may leave him a disembodied voice for as long as they possibly can, but at some point fans will start complaining at the teasing. It’ll be like continually having to skip a missing step on a ladder.

Until then, though, he’s a missing step that’s fun to conceptualize.

You won’t get routes. The setting is ideal for a harem: all the potential love interests loved each other before MC ever entered the picture, so they will eventually accept having to share them, jealousy be damned. I’m pretty sure they’re all aware of MC’s affection towards each of them already: it’s just a matter of contention of which among them MC prefers the most. If MC wants to pursue only one of the brothers, it is up to them to do just that -- in the confines of the presented story.

Conclusion

There were some good story bits to chew on here and there, but as a whole the writing fell flatter than season 1’s writing, in spite of the predictability in the latter. The general unpredictability of this season has made things more exciting than the conclusion we eventually arrived at; it’s hard to commend it when it just doesn’t lead to something intriguing.

Welp, at least we get time to level up our cards for the next season. I only have three URs so it was pretty rough.

I’ll probably do more analysis and essays in the interim, as I work through hard mode and think more about stuff. It’s been fun, in spite of my critique.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

Reviewing RWBY: Volume 8 (+My General Thoughts On This Shitshow)

Hey! I am officially done with RWBY which means I can go back to posting about YGO more actively, which is great news for me and all five of my followers who all followed me for YGO content and probably dont appreciate me posting about a bad show that I dont even particularly like, as opposed to posting about a bad show that I do like

That being said, what the hell was that? Like, I cant put it into a coherent review but I feel like I cant just do bullet point lists again? I jjst

Why the fh k

How

WhomST?!!??? Allowed this bullshit

You know how in my previous review I said something along the lines of "Damn I thought you guys where joking or something but Ironwood really was that bad huh"

Yeah, thats me about this entire volume, like wHAT

God, I already had a wholeass essay conceptualized about how Pennys entire arc this volume sucked but didnt wanna start writing it until I actually say it with my own eyes, because I still had... I wouldnt call it hope but like. I knew how bad it was, I had this entire show spoilered for me, I literally had NO expectations and yet. Yeah

I feel like there is something to be said about disspointing someone like me to this degree. My standards for what I consider to be 'good' or atleast 'enjoyable' are very low and I while I wouldnt say I particularly enjoy 'bad' media, I do have a bit of a soft spot for 'not good' media.

If you take one look at the shit I post here aside from RWBY critique/review thingies (or even if you literally just read my RWBY posts) you mightve noticed that I also really enjoy Yu-Gi-Oh, specificially YGO Duel Monsters aka The One That Everyone Watched When They Were A Child, Apparently. And as much as I liked it, its definitly not good. However, it and the first three volumes of RWBY were very charming and fun which is what made me stick around.

Also, the fact that YGO was just. Batshit insane. Like, my introduction to this franchise was accidentally watching the second or third part of the season 3 finale completely out of context, these fuckers were talking about Egyptian God Cards and Weaker Selves and the fuckinh Shadow Realm and I had no idea what was going on. Honestly, I have no idea what made me watch the other series beyond "They were out here summoning actual gods and youre tellin me they made 6 more of these? I gotta see where this goes"

And yeah, turns out where it went was being actually good. RWBY is the exact opposite of that. It started out as badly written but fun and charming and then just. Got less fun and charming while still bring badly written. Great.

So yeah, Im still gonna critique RWBY, Im still watching Volume 9 when it comes it in a few weeks but Im mostly gonna focus on stuff that I actually enjoy, atleast here on tumblr. On Reddit I dont really do anything thats not RWBY-related, so they shouldnt really notice the difference but yeah. Thanks for reading

[whitehotharlots]

Andrea Long Chu is the sad embodiment of the contemporary left

Andrea Long Chu’s Females was published about a year ago. It was heavily hyped but landed with mostly not-so-great reviews, and while I was going to try and pitch my own review I figured there was no need. Going through my notes from that period, however, I see how much Chu’s work—and its pre-release hype—presaged the sad state of the post-Bernie, post-hope, COVID-era left. I figured they’d be worth expanding upon here, even if I’m not getting paid to do so.

Chu isn’t even 30 years old, and Females is her debut book, and yet critics were already providing her with the sort of charitable soft-handedness typically reserved for literary masters or failed female political candidates. This is striking due to the purported intensity of the book: a love letter to would-be assassin Valerie Solanas, the thesis of which is that all humans are female, and that such is true because female-ness is a sort of terminal disease stemming not from biology but from one’s inevitable subjugation in larger social contexts. Everyone is a woman because everyone suffers. Big brain shit.

But, of course, not everyone is a female. Of course. Females are females only some of the time. But, also, everyone is a female. Femaleness is just a title, see. Which means it can be selectively applied whenever and however the author chooses to apply it. The concept of “female” lies outside the realm of verifiability. Suggesting to subject it to any form of logic or other means of adjudication means you’re missing the point. Femaleness simply exists, but only sometimes, and those sometimes just so happen to be identifiable only to someone possessed with as a large a brain as Ms. Chu. We are past the need for coherence, let alone truth or honesty. And if you don’t agree that’s a sign that you are broken—fragile, illiterate, hateful, humorless.

Chu’s writing—most famously, her breakthrough essay “On Liking Women”—establishes her prose style: long, schizophrenic paragraphs crammed with unsustainable metaphors meant to prove various fuzzy theses simultaneously. Her prose seems kinda sorta provocative but only when read on a sentence-by-sentence level, with the reader disregarding any usual expectations of cohesion or connection.

This emancipation from typical writerly expectations allows Chu to wallow proudly in self-contradiction and meaninglessness. As she notes herself, explicitly, meaning isn’t the point. Meaning doesn’t even exist. It’s just, like, a feeling:

I mean, I don’t like pissing people off per se. Yes, there is a pleasure to that sometimes, sure. I think that my biggest takeaway from graduate school is that people don’t say things or believe things—they say them because it makes them feel a particular way or believing them makes them feel a particular way. I’ve become hyper aware of that, and the sense in which I’m pissing people off is more about bringing that to consciousness for the reader. The reason you’re reacting against this is not because it contradicts what you think is true, it’s because it prevents you from having the feeling that the thing you think is the truth lets you feel.

And so she can get away with saying that of course she doesn’t actually believe that everyone is a female, the same as her idol Valerie Solanas didn’t actually want to kill all men. The writers, Chu and Valerie, are just sketching out a dumb idea as a fun little larf, to see how far they can push a manifestly absurd thought. If they just so happen to shoot a gay man at point blank range and/or make broader left movements so repulsive that decent people get driven away, so be it. And if any snowflakes complain about their tactics, well that’s just proof of how right they are. Provocation is justification—the ends and the means. The fact that this makes for disastrous and harmful politics is beside the point. All that matters is that Chu gets to say what she wants to say.

This blunt rhetorical move—which is difficult to describe without sounding like I’m exaggerating or making stuff up, since it’s so insane—papers over Chu’s revanchist and violent beliefs. Her work is soaked with approving portrayals of Solanas’ eliminationist rhetoric—of course, Chu doesn’t’ actually mean it, even though she does. Men are evil, even as they don’t really fully exist since everyone is a woman, ergo eliminating men improves the world. Chu goes so far as to suggest that being a trans woman makes her a bigger feminist than Solanas or any actual woman could ever be, because the act of her transitioning led to the world containing fewer men. Again: big brain shit.

I’ll leave it to a woman to comment on the imperiousness of a trans woman insisting that she is bestest and realest kind of woman, that biological women are somehow flawed imposters. I will stress, however, that such a claim comes as a means of justifying a politically disastrous assertion that more or less fully justifies the most reactionary gender critical arguments, which regard all trans women as simply mentally ill men (this line of reasoning is so incredibly stupid that even a dullard like Rod Drehar can rebut it with ease). Trans activists have spent years establishing an understanding of transsexualism as a matter of inherent identity—whether or not you agree with that assertion, you have to admit that it has political propriety and has gone a long way in normalizing transness. Chu rejects this out of hand, embracing instead the revanchist belief that transness is attributable to taking sexual joy in finding oneself embarrassed and/or feminized—an understanding of womanhood that is simultaneously essentialist and tokenizing. When asked about the materially negative potential in expressing such a belief, Chu reacts with a usual word salad of smug self-contradiction: 

EN: You say in the book that sissy porn was formative of your coming to consciousness as a trans woman. If you hadn’t found sissy porn, do you think it’s possible that you might have just continued to suffer in the not-knowing?

ALC: That’s a really good question. It’s plausible to me that I never would have figured it out, that it would have taken longer.

EN: How does that make you feel? Is that idea scary?

ALC: It isn’t really. Maybe it should be a little bit more, but it isn’t really. One of the things about desire is that you can not want something for the first 30 years of your life and wake up one day and suddenly want it—want it as if you might as well have always wanted it. That’s the tricky thing about how desire works. When you want something, there’s a way in which you engage in a kind of revisionism, the inability to believe that you could have ever wanted anything else.

EN: People often talk about the ubiquity of online porn as a bad thing—I’ve heard from lots of girlfriends that men getting educated about sex by watching porn leads to bad sex—but there seems to me a way in which this ubiquity is helping people to understand themselves, their sexuality and their gender identity.

ALC: While I don’t have the research to back this up, I would certainly anecdotally say that sissy porn has done something in terms of modern trans identity, culture, and awareness. Of course, it’s in the long line of sexual practices like crossdressing in which cross-gender identification becomes a key factor. It’s not that all of the sudden, in 2013, there was this thing and now there are trans people. However, it is undoubted that the Internet has done something in terms of either the sudden existence of more trans people or the sudden revelation that there are more trans people than anyone knew there were. Whether it’s creation or revelation, I think everyone would agree that the internet has had an enormous impact there.

One of the things I find so fascinating about sissy porn is that it’s not just that I can hear about these trans people who live 20 states away from me and that their experiences sound like mine. There is a component of it that’s just sheer mass communication and its transformative effect, but another part of it is that the internet itself can exert a feminizing force. That is the implicit claim of sissy porn, the idea that sissy porn made me trans is also the idea that Tumblr made me trans. So, the question there is whether or not the erotic experience that became possible with the Internet actually could exert an historically unique feminizing force. I like, at least as a speculative claim, to think about how the Internet itself is feminizing.

Politics, like, don’t matter. So, like, okay, nothing I say matters? So it’s okay if I say dumb and harmful shit because, like, they’re just words, man.

Chu can’t fully embrace this sort of gradeschool nihilism, though, because if communication was truly as meaningless as she claims then any old critic could come along and tell her to shut the fuck up. Even as she claims to eschew all previously existing means of adjudicating morality and coherence, she nonetheless relies on the cheapest means of making sure she maintains a platform: validation via accreditation. This is all simple victimhood hierarchy. Anyone who does not defer all of their own perceptions to someone higher up the hierarchy is inherently incorrect, their trepidations serving to validate the beliefs of the oppressed:

I like to joke that, as someone who is always right, the last thing I want is to be agreed with. [Laughs] I think the true narcissist probably wants to be hated in order to know that she’s superior. I absolutely do court disagreement in that sense. But what I like even better are arguments that bring about a shift in terms along an axis that wasn’t previously evident. So it’s not just that other people are wrong; it’s that their wrongness exists within a system of evaluation which itself is irrelevant.

Chu has summoned the most cynical possible interpretation of Walter Ong’s suggestion that “Writing is an act of violence disguised as an act of charity.” Of course, any effective piece of communication requires some degree of persuasion, convincing a reader, listener, viewer, or user to subjugate their perceptions to those of the communicator. Chu creates—not just leans on or benefits from, but actively posits and demands fealty to—the suggestion that her voice is the only one deserving of attention by virtue of it being her own. That’s it. That’s what all her blathering and bluster amount to. Political outcomes do not matter. Honesty does not matter. What matters is her, because she is her. 

This is the inevitable result of a discourse that prizes a communicator’s embodied identity markers more than anything those communicators are attempting to communicate, and in which a statement is rendered moral or true based only upon the presence or absence of certain identity markers. Lived experience trumps all else. A large, non-passing trans woman is therefore more correct than pretty much anyone else, no matter how harmful or absurd her statements may be. She is also better than them. And smarter. And gooder.

Designating lived experience and subjective feelings of safety as the only acceptable forms of adjudication has caused the left to prize individualism to a degree that would have made Ronald Reagan blush. And this may explain the lukewarm reception of Chu’s book.

While they heaped praise upon her before the books’ release, critics backed off once they realized that Females is an embarrassingly apt reflection of intersectional leftism—a muddling, incoherent mess, utterly disconnected from any attempt toward persuasion or consensus, the product of a movement that has come to regard neurosis as insight. The deranged mewlings of a grotesque halfwit are only digestable a few pages at a time. Any more than that, and we begin to see within them far too much of the things that define our awful movement and our terrifying moment.