i think it's interesting how steph is like... the nerds see her as part of the popular group, and sure we see her talking to the cheerleaders a little, but other than that she doesn't really seem to be one of them in the truest sense? i could fully believe that she feels like the tiniest bit of an outcast there, like she's just cool enough for max to give her a pass but she doesn't really click with them that well. she feels to me like the bridge between the popular ones and the nerds, which is appropriate i suppose for her place in the story.
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I really feel like one of the main tragedies in Toshiro's character is that there's allll these hints, blink-and-you-miss-them little things, that point at how he was encouraged to change from the person he would've been if allowed to develop with more freedom, and that at one point it became something he was ACTIVELY forcing himself to do,
That he's always self-monitoring and controlling his behaviour, trying so hard to fit into this idea, this "proper way for him to be", and all for a place where he barely belongs.
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collected the outfits ive actively designed for morro(not just slapped together without planning)
first one is his canon gi, colour corrected,
that i only ended up using in his initial arrival pages of @juniorjago oops lol. Ill probably use it for flashback stuff to morros babby years
second one is what i designed for him to wear in the post where he apologises to the kids for being a shit
third one is a failed design(yay!) where it was meant to be just. some clothes he threw on, but it looked too. formal? worky? so sCREW IT. he gets a new gi at some point in juniorjago! The fourth is what i ended up going with for this next arc that will EVENTUALLY come about.
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Thanks to @paperstorm & @lemonlyman-dotcom for tagging me in Music Monday!
My brain is mush today due to work so I don't have the brainpower to think this one through super deeply...
BUT the song I've been listening to on repeat recently is a new release from Kris Allen called Too Good for Too Long and the lyrics give me major breakup era TK vibes.
Everything was going perfect
But living right below the surface
Was the feeling I don't deserve this
So maybe my momma was right
This is why we can't have anything nice
Cos every time we're too good for too long
I find a way to make it go wrong
Turning waterfalls into rust
And anytime it's going our way
I can see the turn it shouldn't take
Don't know why I fuck with our love
Cos the truth is all I want for us is to be
Too good for too long
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Growing up in an extremely ultra religious, cult-like family was a mindfuck for multiple reasons but that doesn't stop unfortunately, even when you escape. For example, see: The overwhelming feeling of boiling hatred and shame for who you used to be.
The angry hatred for the past person I used to be, the version of myself that mindlessly parroted my family's beliefs and listened to their every command, constantly simmered under my skin and invaded my every thought. I was embarrassed of what I used to be- even as I made friends of different ethnicities and faiths, as I listened and explored new ideas and worlds that I never knew existed, as I started the first LGBTQ+ club at my school and volunteered with kids who deserved so much more- there was always a little voice in the back of my head.
"They would hate you if they knew what you were. They would hate the horrendous teachings that were seared into your mind, the things that you used to say and believe. You are nothing but a pretender."
And it is true that my beliefs were bigoted in all the worst ways. It is true that I believed truly heart-wrenching things without a second thought and judged others in such harsh and unfair ways. I told myself that there was no coming back from that, not really. There was nothing I could do to ever make up for it.
Then I remembered that the person who said those things wore velcro light up sneakers and collected finger puppets that the librarians handed out as awards for reading picture books. The person that held signs at pro-life rallies and anti-LGBTQ+ protests had a cherished sticker book and hunted minnows in the creek after school and adored their puffle on club penguin and was really into greek mythology and had skinned knees from climbing trees at recess and knew every Disney song by heart and was absolutely terrified of the dark.
That person was a child.
I was a child.
It took a really long time. Years and years of reflection and distance, but I've decided that I can't hate the past version of myself anymore. I feel pity and remorse, I feel anger- I feel so much fury and violent rage- at what my childhood was and I grieve what could- no, should- have been, but I no longer resent who I was.
I'm not ashamed.
I am so, so, so unbelievably proud of that little kid. For being brave enough to leave the comfort and safety of what I was told was right. For not being afraid to be wrong. For seeking out information and knowledge in a culture that praised ignorance. For questioning everything, relentlessly.
I am by no means a perfect person, I never have been and I never will, but I am proud of myself in every iteration that has ever existed because I know that I have never stopped trying to understand and learn and grow, and I never will.
If you have ever been in a similar situation and feel similar things, first of all: My condolences on your lost childhood. Second of all: Please be nice to that past version of yourself and recognize all the hard work they did to make you who you are today. That person was a survivor and an inspiration. They deserve nothing but love.
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