#and what we create for ourselves still MEANT something. still mattered

[braintapes]

I'm deeply fascinated by takes that are very staunchly against the WAU because on the one hand, I completely understand the revulsion. The disgust. The WAU’s creations are, to human sensibilities, nightmare creatures only barely recognizable as 'once human.' The WAU's creations and modifications spit and trample on human memory as we generally think of it.

On the other hand...Humanity is so thoroughly obliterated in SOMA's setting that I don't think it's enough to kill the WAU on those grounds. Is what it's doing fucked up? Yes! But is it ultimately that different from the survival instinct of any animal? Is it that different from human instinct, to want to preserve and continue life at all costs? When it's what human hands created the WAU to do?

Humans are such a tiny proportion of all life. We're practically a footnote in every way to the planet Earth in terms of timescale. When you zoom out, the WAU strikes me as akin to, say, the first single-celled organism in the primordial soup.

It's a different form of life. A new form of life, perhaps. One that could grow and evolve over time in ways we can't imagine.

Is that so wrong? Who are we, the last echoing fragment of humankind, to completely deny that life, simply on the grounds that it isn't us?

I think about the Think Tank from Fallout: New Vegas. They were human, once. In terms of physicality, though, they’ve existed as brains in jars for such a LONG ASS TIME that they’re repulsed and confused by human bodies. They find them strange and inferior, because they’ve been themselves so long that what they are is completely natural to them. From their point of view, they are the most evolved form of life, and humans are just another kind of animal.

Even though they themselves are still human brains.

I think that fear - the fear that we, humans, will be dethroned from our positions on high as the 'rulers' of the planet - is an extremely interesting one to play with. There’s a lot to explore when you unravel that thread. I think about humancentrism, how we relate to other species etc. You could also turn the macro-scale into the micro-scale, the personal. It’s the same fear a parent has when their kid grows up into a being completely alien to the parent’s understanding and which has made you, the parent, obsolete.

The world moves on past you, beyond you. Something greater than you will take your place and you will be washed away in the streams of time. It’s horrifying! It feels as fundamental and primal a fear to me as fear of death.

SOMA plays with this in such a fascinating way that I’ve never seen a game tackle elsewhere. Humanity is almost, ALMOST absolutely irrelevant in its world. The game is a death march, a funerary procession for an entire world and entire species. It asks you, who are you, in all of this? What meaning do you make of it all?

It asks a ridiculous amount of questions, some in plain text, some in subtext. But they’re always personal questions. SOMA doesn’t need your answer to get you to the next level. It simply asks you and leaves you to reflect on your answer. It’s a beautiful use of the concept of ‘choices’ in gaming that I love.

Your choices don’t affect the in-game world. Whether you kill the WAU or not, you don’t get to see the far-reaching effects of that choice. It doesn’t matter. You, the player. You, Simon. You simply won’t be there to see those effects. All you can do is look within yourself, imagine yourself in these worlds, and ask yourself what feels right to you.

SOMA doesn’t have correct answers, either. It would be easy to wave that off as trying to seem deep without having to come down concretely on anything but I don’t believe it’s done half-assedly here. The game gives ONE concrete answer about what it thinks of the human condition:

You will always strive for hope. In the most absurd, almost comedically horrific conga line of atrocity thrown your way, you will cling to hope with bleeding fingers and chase it to the very, very end. Even when that hope is so fleeting so as to be almost nothing at all. This, SOMA says, is the fundamental nature of humans.

...And I’m just now realizing this post got waaaay away from my original point. On the macro-scale, the WAU is a progenitor of life imo. We have no way of knowing what kind or how it will grow or even if it will survive. On the micro-scale, it’s almost irrelevant to us, our journey, Simon’s journey. The choice to kill it, then, comes down to revenge. Do you spite it for what it’s done? Is what it’s done so horrific you want to stab it back?

I understand why people would. Personally, though, I can’t bring myself to cut it down when it carries such potential with it.

[etheries1015]

Arlecchino having a (female) s/o who is extremely sensitive and cries frequently.

You'd think arlecchino would have something against dating someone like this. Crying is a sign of weakness in her eyes, and honestly you were no different. Despite your typically optimistic and flamboyant personality, you were incredibly sensitive. Just leave it to Arlecchino to pick probably the most sensitive person in the world to choose as her lover, right?

You saw a sad play? Tears streaming down your face. You saw a malnourished dog on the streets? Sobbing while spending your life's savings to help the poor thing. It starts raining? You're crying, too. "Its been raining so much...The hydro dragon must be in such misery. I wish I could help him." One of the kids called you "mother" for the first time? You're sobbing uncontrollably. Most of the time Arlecchino would roll her eyes and be mildly unomftorable around your tears, but you knew she still loved you. Especially moments that it truly mattered, she would mutter a "Stop crying..." And pat your head, or quietly engulf you in a hug. She couldn't fully understand why you were always so empathetic and crying all the time, however they do say opposites attract, right?

Most of the time she found it to be one of your weak points, crying so much means you aren't strong to save face, right? That you don't have what it takes? Crying all the time was something only the pathetic and unworthy do...right?

Arlecchino heard two voices. One was her lover, you, and the other was the feeble whimpers of a child. She made sure to stay hidden from behind the door frame, eavesdropping on the conversation, where you and the young boy were left unaware of her presence.

"Father says I...shouldn't cry. I'm sorry, mother, I..."

"Freminet," Arlecchino heard your voice strong yet sweet, her heart skipping a beat slightly. She hadn't heard you so...authoritative in a long while. So loving, gentle...and so confident. There was not a hint of hesitation in your voice.

"I understand you think very very highly of Arle. She gave you a life here, along with your siblings. I know you look up to her. But if there is one thing we, even as lovers, disagree on..." The sound of rustling caused Arlecchino to glance around the corner, quickly noticing how you were pulling the young boy into your arms.

"Tears are not a sign of weakness. It means you have a strong heart, a heart full of emotions just waiting to burst and let loose. Strength comes from standing up again despite the challenges you have faced, and what may have made you cry." You pulled back and wiped his tears before poking his chest above the spot where his heart lay. "You have a beautiful heart, freminet. Its healthy, and strong. Strength is purely subjective, we can each decide for ourselves what strength truly means. Don't let someone else decide that for you, no matter how much they may mean to you."

"But-" the blonde haired boy went to object you, only to be promptly cut off.

"Arlecchino has her own definition of strength and weakness, and so do I. They are completely opposite from one another. But that doesn't mean the love between us isn't real because of that. We all still love you for who you are, Freminet. You're growing to be a very fine young man, and I'm certain you will find your own definition of strength. Create it yourself, okay? Your soul is meant to grow into your own shape, not forcefully conform into someone else's." There was no words, only the sounds of light sobs as Freminet hugged you tightly. You smiled slightly and pat his back gently and comfortingly.

"If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to, I'm always here for you. You do not need to suffer alone."

Arlecchino could have sworn your gaze notice hers and lock eyes for but a moment, with a gentle smile placed upon your features. Quickly turning her heel and walking away, Arlecchino simply scoffed at the notion you were breaking down the principals she had built at the house of hearth.

Night had fallen and you entered your shared room with the Knave, who was currently laying in bed with the lights off and blankets covering her body. You strolled over to the bed, sitting down next to her as you gazed down to the quiet harbinger.

"Are you mad at me?" You inquired, "I know you heard what I told freminet. I assumed you would yell at me by now, about how crying isn't a sign of strength, and how I'm 'teaching them worthless things'. " You awaited a snotty response from your thickheaded lover, yet much to your surprise, there was no response. It was only when you sat your hand upon her shoulder did you notice the slightest tremble, your eyes widening before you were abruptly pulled down into the sheets with strong arms wrapping around you. Arlechinnos head tucked into your shoulder, you could feel wetness seep through your shirt. You smiled sadly and began to hold her back, stroking her soft black and white locks.

"I see you're taking my advice, huh? Did I strike a chord finally?"

"Shut up."

With a shaky voice and mild hesitation, Arlecchino had become far more vulnerable than she had ever felt before.

"You're a bad influence," she sighed into your shoulder, her grasp tightening. With a chuckle and another gentle kiss, you hummed in amusement. It wasn't long before you felt the trembling come to a halt and Arlecchinos breathing even out, you closed your eyes and began to drift off into sleep with your lover still in your arms.

Maybe crying wasn't as bad as she made it out to be. At least, not when she had someone to hold her tight all night.

[thatfrailsoul]

_

Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you and behind which image it hides... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that whenever you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

_

Hi!♡ Before looking deeper into this question... I would like to do another one to you.♡ Obviously you don't need to stop by here if you don't want to - your message and reading is right here after this question. But if you do answer, it will be incredibly helpful for me to make this blog more comfortable and interesting for you and others.♡ So... which forms of tarot readings and messages here on Tumblr are more interesting for you?♡:

1) A lot of piles/images to choose from so it feels more real that the message is for you, and shorter messages that can be read more fastly and comfortably.

2) Less piles/images to choose from so there isn't anxiety in deciding, but longer and more detailed messages.

3) More piles/images to choose from and more detailed messages so it feels more destined to you and provides more clarity and information.

_

Thank you so much for helping me out!♡

_

_

No matter what you see, what you feel when you are stuck in that dream and vision... There is something important there, a key to your current situation, a solution to the confusion and uncertainty that overwhelms you.

It might confuse you or even scare you, with its mysterious story that each time unfolds in your mind.. But there is nothing to be afraid of, nothing to fear. As it's only a particular way of your subconscious mind to talk to you, to give you the alternative to giving up or running away that you consider now...

Because is not all that there is to this situation, difficulty or problem. You are not meant at all to suffer as you walk on this path trying to achieve your dreams. There is a solution, right here and so close to you. A different way to overcome it shifting the situation from the worst to something much much easier and even enjoyable to go through.

Your mind is asking you to wait a little more here, to give this situation another chance, to look at it from a different perspective exactly as you do with this dream trying to understand more of it. Your mind tries to tell you that exactly like this dream... It will end.

All the confusion, anxiety and worry will end. Allowing you to return to your life, to the safety and the balance that you managed to create. You need only to allow yourself to live it, to see it like this dream, knowing that there is much more that will follow it, no matter how scary, confusing or strange it seems.

_

_

It's difficult to stay present in the life that feels so harsh, so confusing, so different from the way we pictured it when we were younger. It's difficult to push our own selves in keep on going, in facing the situations, in taking our responsibilities or sacrifice ourselves to resolve the ones of others who don't care that much...

But it's so easy to hide in our mind, in different and misterious worlds. In other dimensions where when facing the same problems and fears, or perhaps even worse... We have much more control on it.

And you did it for a really long time. You hid inside your mind, inside does hopes and wanders. The ones that nourished became something more, a whole different story about who you are, adventures that you live through... It became your safe space, far away from the situations that continued to get worse and more painful to deal with. To the point that it's simply scary to face them, difficult to don't look away.

And when you are still forced to do so... Your mind is overwhelmed with fear and stress, finding relief only in those dreams that are so strange but that feel much more appealing than this world. But while this is what your conscious mind does and needs... The subconscious mind is aware of how wrong it is and is against it.

And through those same dreams that were always the only real and clear way it could talk to you - it tries to regain its power back by shifting your visions, the sweet stories and lies they tell you. In hopes that you can, in that confusion and impossibility to understand and connect so much to those dreams like you used to... You could become aware of how unfortunately false they've been. How they never were the truth, never were what you needed to overcome all of this. How they instead were only a distraction, a way to escape this reality and hide.

Your subconscious confuses you, makes it uncomfortable to be in that state in which you escape for so long and for so many times. But it's not because it's mean to you, because it doesn't want you to have a safe place... It's more because it wants, your inner self wants, to feel so safe in this and real world. It wants you to live, to fight back, and in doing so to find your strength and courage. It wants and needs you to learn how to live and go through it. Instead of putting yourself in a golden cage from which you will never be able to grow.

_

[reality-detective]

Let’s talk about love…

I often write about love in the overarching sense of the word, that is, the all encompassing energy with which this universe was created. But today I want to talk about ‘romantic love’, the one we more often speak about, the one that can make us feel on top of the world or at the bottom of a pit! Yeah that one…🙄

I’ve had my share of heartache in life and I have also been a shoulder to cry on for many friends going through breakups and divorce. In hindsight, I can only say, that as painful as breakups are, they are also the greatest chance to gain real wisdom about ourselves and those around us.

People often jump into the next relationship as fast as they can, just like you would take a painkiller for a headache, but I think this is often a mistake, for you end up missing the many valuable lessons that life was trying to teach you. Which means they will come back again! 🤪

Time is the only healthy form of healing, it is also the only way to gain the necessary perspective to identify the lessons you were meant to learn.

‘Painkillers’ never get to the root of the problem, they simply numb the pain and hide the underlying issue, so don’t rush into the next romantic affair, instead take the time to reflect on things.

Healing from a broken heart is no easy feat, it can take a very long time and in some cases people never truly heal.

I have pondered many times on this matter, which has led me to question; what is it that we fall in love with, that makes it so hard to overcome?

Understanding how we are mainly driven by ego, rather than spirit, made me realise, that it’s in fact the ego that makes healing from a breakup so difficult.

Do we fall in love with the person? Or with how the person made us feel about ourselves? 🤔

In other words, are most romantic relationships a means of feeding the ego? He loves me, therefore I’m worthy? I am enough?

I’m not suggesting, by any means, that that’s all that romantic relationships are, but I do believe that a lot of the pain derived from separation, is the ego hurting from seemingly being rejected.

I have seen friends cry desperately for guys that were not worth considering for two seconds, which made me realise they were not crying for the loss of an excellent human being, they were crying from the feeling of rejection.

When you base your worth on external acceptance and recognition, instead of internal knowing, you risk suffering needlessly for people that didn’t deserve you in the first place.

So if you find yourself unable to get over a broken relationship, ask yourself who’s crying; is it your ego that is still licking its wounds? Or did you really walk away from an exceptional human being? (If it’s the latter, then you better recognise your mistakes and do something about it!)

But if it’s your ego performing a self-pitty show, try to step out of it and take an introspective journey until you see that you were always whole, that you don’t need someone else to complete you and that your happiness is in your hands, it’s your responsibility and nobody else’s.

True love can only come to you when you don’t expect it to do things it’s not meant to do. A true romantic relationship is made up of two ‘whole’ people that wish to share their ‘wholeness’ with each other, rather than complete one another.

Don’t let your ego run amok with your emotional well being, take the reigns, put it in it’s place and move forward.

- Laura Aboli

[sunnycanvas]

Hello i really really love your work!

Today is my birthday and since my family already celebrated it and today i didnt get any gifts i was thinking Maybe you could give me one? A one where its readers birthday and what he would do? Thank you bye!❤️

Belated Happy Birthday Dear,

Here is a piece of work I wrote as a gift, No promises if it will be good 😅. Hope you enjoy it

Exhausted from my birthday celebration, I yawned as I entered my room, eager to see my beloved. Baldwin was seated, absorbed in a book, so focused he didn’t notice me at first. Mischievously, like a child, I crept up behind him, hoping to give him a playful scare. But of course, my Baldwin, ever the trained knight, sensed my presence. The moment his eyes met mine, they were filled with love. Embarrassed at being caught, I hugged him from behind, trying to hide my face against his shoulder. He chuckled softly, closing his book and kissing my cheek. "Happy birthday, my queen," he whispered warmly. "I hope the party I arranged in your honor was to your liking." I chose my next words carefully, not wanting to upset him. "It was lovely," I said, smiling as I gently smoothed the dress he had gifted me. "The celebration was grand, and the dress you chose for me is stunning." I paused, caressing the fabric before continuing. "The food was delicious, and I received so many gifts but my voice wavered slightly as I went on, "Still, I could sense that most of the guests weren’t genuine. Their compliments and gifts seemed more about their own gain than celebrating me." I lowered my gaze, sadness creeping in despite the joyous day. Baldwin let out a relieved sigh. "You had me worried for a moment, Y/N," he said, gently taking my hand. "I thought the celebration hadn’t pleased you."

"You left early," I said, my voice still tinged with disappointment. "You know how much it meant to me to have you by my side on my birthday. I've always been understanding of your condition, Baldwin, but you promised you'd stay and celebrate with me, no matter what."Baldwin gave me a sympathetic smile, his eyes soft with regret. "Believe me, I wanted to stay longer," he said gently, "but urgent matters required my attention."Still upset, I pressed him further. "You wouldn’t go back on your promise, would you?" My words carried a weight I couldn't mask. Baldwin's smile faded into something sadder, more resigned. "If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, I’m ready to do it," he said earnestly. Seizing the moment, I asked with a playful smile, "Would you like to go out with me?" Baldwin looked confused. "Go where? A walk in the garden?".I shook my head. "No, I want something more exciting. I’m craving an adventure." His confusion deepened, so I continued, "I was thinking we could disguise ourselves as commoners and wander through the market. We could buy whatever we like, eat street food, and just enjoy ourselves like ordinary people."Baldwin stared at me in shock, as if I’d just grown a second head. "No, absolutely not," he said firmly. "It's far too dangerous. I can’t allow us to put ourselves at such risk." Knowing his weakness, I gave him my best puppy-eyed look, watching as his resolve began to crack. His expression turned anxious as he called my name in warning, "(Y/N)." His tone was serious, but I could tell he was faltering. I refused to back down. "Please, Baldwin," I urged, "this is the same market built by the late of Jerusalem Queen Melisende, your grandmother. I’d feel closer to you by visiting a place she helped create." Baldwin looked visibly moved by my words, his hard stance softening. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Who knew my queen could be so mischievous?" he teased. "Though it’s dangerous, I’ll do this for you." Overjoyed, I threw my arms around him so fiercely I almost knocked him out of his chair. Baldwin laughed, his joy infectious as he wrapped his arms around me in return. "Easy, love," he chuckled. "I’d rather not break my back, or else I won’t be able to fulfill my promise to you."I smiled, nodding, already anticipating the adventure ahead.

That night, Baldwin and I slipped out of the castle, dressed as commoners. Hand in hand, we strolled through the lively market, blending in with the evening crowd. Every now and then, I’d sneak a quick kiss on his cheek, delighting in the way he blushed. Baldwin, ever the modest one, would scold me gently. "You should act more discreetly," he whispered, trying to sound stern.I smirked, unbothered by his reprimand. "Don’t worry," I teased, "no one’s paying attention to us, and it’s too dark for them to see us clearly, anyway."He grumbled under his breath, blushing even more. "You’re getting too bold," he muttered, feigning seriousness. "I might have to take away some of your privileges to teach you a lesson."I laughed, knowing full well it was an empty threat. My laughter was suddenly interrupted by the loud growl of my stomach, betraying my hunger. Baldwin smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement."Sounds like half the kingdom’s food stalls will be emptied just to feed you," he teased, his grin widening. I groaned in embarrassment, covering my face. He laughed, his joyful sound filling the night air as we continued walking through the market, side by side.

Baldwin soon spotted a bustling food stall with a crowd gathered around it. Intrigued, he gently led me by the hand, and I followed, equally curious. As we approached, it became clear that the stall was quite popular locals were swarming it eagerly. "It's legume stew," I murmured, recognizing the rich aroma that filled the air. The scent was so enchanting, I found myself clutching Baldwin's arm, excitement and nervousness bubbling inside me.Sensing my unease around the crowd, Baldwin gave me a reassuring smile. "I know you don't like crowds," he said softly. "Don't worry, I'll get it for you. Just wait here."Relieved, I smiled gratefully and stepped back, watching from a distance as he made his way toward the stall, my heart warmed by his thoughtfulness.

I didn’t have to wait long before I saw Baldwin sprinting toward me with my food in hand, a man shouting behind him. Startled, I watched as Baldwin grabbed my arm, quickly pulling me along with him.Confused, I asked, "Did you steal that?"Offended, Baldwin scoffed, "Of course not! I would never commit such a dishonorable act." He glanced over his shoulder, his pace quickening. "It’s Raymond, Count of Tripoli. He found us."I didn’t need to ask for more details because, moments later, I heard Raymond’s voice echoing behind us. "Your Majesty, this is dangerous! What were you thinking, putting yourself and the queen in such a risky situation?"Baldwin groaned in exasperation, and I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of it all.

We sprinted as fast as we could, my heart racing. Spotting a narrow alley, I quickly pulled Baldwin along with me, ducking out of sight. The guards, thinking we had gone in another direction, rushed past us, oblivious to our hiding spot. Baldwin and I exchanged a glance before letting out simultaneous sighs of relief. With a smile, Baldwin handed me the food, and I gratefully accepted, enjoying every bite. Once I had finished, I took his hand again, and together we continued our exploration down the dim alleyway. As we walked, the alley opened up into a vibrant, lively village, full of activity and people. Just as we began to take in the sights, an elderly couple spotted us, their curious eyes fixed on us, as if they could sense something different about us.

"Ah, young love," the old man nearby chuckled. "Remember the days, dear, when we’d sneak out at night just like them?" His wife laughed warmly. "Yes, I remember it well and how my father chased you down for courting me without his permission." The affectionate exchange between the couple made my heart swell. I glanced over at Baldwin, who met my gaze, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. *Will we grow old together like them, still so full of love and happiness?*The old man approached us with a smile, inviting us to join a village feast. We politely declined at first, but he insisted with a playful grin. "You can’t let your lady go hungry, can you?" he teased Baldwin. Reluctantly, we agreed and sat down to eat. I quietly enjoyed my meal while Baldwin easily mingled with the villagers, engaging them in conversation and left leaving me alone with few people who distracted me with their conversation. After a while, he returned to me with a mischievous smirk, taking my hand and gently pulling me away from the table, ready for the next part of our adventure.

He led me to a beautiful garden illuminated by the soft glow of fireflies. The serene atmosphere felt almost magical. Suddenly, Baldwin dropped to one knee, looking up at me with warmth in his eyes. "Would you honor me with a dance, my lady?" he asked.I nodded eagerly, unable to contain my excitement, and we began to dance under the twinkling lights. Soon, a few villagers joined us, playing instruments to accompany our gentle rhythm. The melody blended perfectly with the peaceful night. As we danced, Baldwin leaned in close to my ear, his voice soft and sincere. "I’m sorry for not being there for you on your birthday," he whispered. "I know how muchl you wanted to dance with me, but I left early."I shook my head, smiling. "It doesn't matter anymore," I replied. "Being here with you now is all I need."Baldwin smiled, his eyes filled with affection. "I love you, Y/N," he said quietly. "I love you too," I whispered back.

Just then I heard a voice

"Kiss, Kiss"

*Smack*

"Quite you two".It sounded like two toddlers and a mother. Alarmed, I turned to Baldwin, who burst into laughter. "I knew some of the villagers who helped me would be spying on us," he said with a grin. "The old man assisted me with the preparations, and dare I say, the idea for this lovely garden was his as well."My heart swelled with joy at such a thoughtful display of affection from both Baldwin and the villagers. Baldwin's expression turned serious, and he added confidently, "I may not be able to kiss your lips because of my condition, but I can do this."With that, he leaned forward, planting gentle kisses all over my face, each one filled with warmth and love.

"Do it on her lips!"

"Wah, my eyes!"

"Come children let's give them some privacy"

Both Baldwin and I erupted into laughter, the joy of the moment wrapping around us like a warm embrace. "Happy Birthday, Y/N!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with affection.As if on cue, fireworks burst into the night sky, their vibrant colors illuminating the darkness and further lifting my spirits. I gazed up in awe, feeling a surge of happiness. "Thank you so much, Baldwin," I said, turning to him with a beaming smile. "This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for."

[aurora-daily]

AURORA talks ‘What Happened To The Heart?’: “Apathy is the biggest enemy to progress”

AURORA in the interview for NME by Andrew Trendell (March 29th, 2024)

NME: Hello AURORA. Why did you start on this journey of trying to understand the symbolism of the heart?

AURORA: “The world has grown so accustomed to being apathetic. The truth has never been easier to share, but it’s also never been easier to manipulate either. AI was created without our consent; nobody asked us the people if we were ready to have something that big being thrown upon us. Now, so many things are going to change, which I don’t think we can yet grasp.

“Another true form of power is to manipulate people, to embarrass people, to lie; there’s so much that you can do with it that’s dangerous. People are so used to becoming overflooded by misinformation and information, and sadly we’re looking to our influencers and celebrities to tell us what we’re supposed to know about political things instead of reading about it or listening to true experts on the matter.

“Of course, I’m very vocal about things so I do think it’s important as a ‘person with a voice’ or whatever to show people what you stand for, but to be the only arrow for people to show them what they mean – that’s dangerous, as hell!”

Ah, that’s grim…

“I have a lot of hope, but I’m really concerned that everyone’s necks are fucked, everyone is hurting, everyone is tired and depressed. It’s fashionable to joke about nihilism and suicide. We have really lost touch with something that we used to have, and it was really beautiful.”

The last time we spoke was just before the release of ‘The Gods We Can Touch’, fresh after COVID when there was an air of optimism and change afoot after the activism brought on by George Floyd’s murder and a lot of talk about how we relate to each other and the planet. You said: “It’s always a good thing when the oppressed aren’t the only ones fighting and the privileged are starting to fight as well. That’s a sign of true progress”. How you feel about that progress now?

“We aren’t meant to look at a genocide [in Gaza] happening for four months on our phones before we go to work. Because of the overflow of information, our attention span is our biggest weakness. We know how to care about something for a little bit, then we kind of lose touch with it again. Our ability to be persistent with the progress that we feel like we deserve is also weak, which is understandable. I’m not blaming us for that. It’s a very natural reaction to where we are at a species now, but we’re still being forced to become apathetic.

“Apathy is the biggest enemy to progress. But I feel that in shadows and what is not on the news, there are so many good things happening. The world is literally on fire – whether global warming, injustice, slavery in Congo, or a war that nobody can stop. The people that can, won’t, because war is also business. But amongst all of that, a lot of good things are happening too. People are proving that we’re tired of peace in that we want more than that: we want real change and liberation and real progress.

“What was peace for me and you here in London was not peace for other people out there. I’m kind of tired of peace and speeches of peace, because we deserve more than that.”

In asking ‘What Happened To The Heart?’, did you find any answers?

“I kind of did. At one point the album gets very ugly, it gets very harsh, it gets very uncomfortable – before it breaks apart. Then at the end of the album there is insight and truth that you need to go and mend all of the rules that you didn’t acknowledge for all these years.

“That’s what needs to happen. Something needs to break apart a bit. Who knows where the world is heading? The least we can do is just keep being in touch with each other and ourselves.”

But it’s not as easy as that, right?

“We’re stuck in pain and many of us don’t have the energy or the courage to begin doing the small things that can make us feel so much better on a daily basis.

“Imagine what it is to be a human today: you’re on your phone, disconnected, being lied to, being manipulated, then you see what’s wrong with the world – or you think you see it but you don’t know how to do anything about it, so you escape into something else. Imagine living in that world where everyone is supposed to feed you, help you, talk the truth to you, is just constantly bringing you into a system so that they can make money.

The world’s on fire so let’s make some money?

“Yes, it is a bit like that! People are getting so tired of celebrities and politicians. People are getting tired of rich people celebrating themselves while the world is burning. You see people getting tired of it, compared to 50 years ago when it was all the rage and all a hoot!”

There’s been some discussion about whether people want reality or escapism in their music. You’re proving that you can do both.

“You can do both and you should do both, because art is both. It’s all about balance.”

You said that you made it a mission to only write for this record in “unsafe” spaces that made you feel quite alien. Where did take that you? Did it make you feel more or less certain about your ideas? 

“Previously, I have gone to a place, locked the doors, turned the lights down low and made an album. This time I wanted to try different rooms and temperatures to write the songs because I needed to access a lot of different AURORAs on this album. It gave me access to a lot of parts of me that I haven’t really faced before; even parts that scared me a little – very personal parts. I’ve been exploring my own darkness more, so it is maybe my most personal album, even though it’s about something so big.”

Did that lead to some new sounds? 

“It’s a very human album and there are a lot of things being played. It has a lot of different moods and every song belongs to a different part of the process for me. The album is very different from the three singles, but I like to release songs that confuse people. The fans really like the complexity. I treat the fans like kings and I would never underestimate them with my music. I know they’re going to feel very satisfied with songs that are so multi-dimensional.”

Do you feel like an outlier for that?

“There’s a lack of that. People expect music now to be very instant and free. That’s why there’s all this shit music going around on TikTok. There are also a lot of cool new acts on TikTok. I like that they can promote themselves.

“Anyway, I’ve been exploring a lot of different things. There are new sounds I’ve never heard before. I’ve been experimenting a lot and had so much fun. I nearly shat myself every day! Not that I have an issue with that.”

It’s a good sign of a good time

“I had such a good time. I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s extremely playful, and I’ve been working with people I admire.”

Including Chemical Brothers’ Tom Rowlands…

“Always, my mate Tom from Chemical Brothers. We have a lot of fun. We feel like two little aliens walking around, and we have the same hunger for something exceptional. I’m really grateful. I texted him one evening just saying, ‘Tom – puke vomit all over my song please’. And he did, for like four hours.”

Did you get lost in his garden again? 

“I’m trying to not do that again. The one time I got lost in his garden it was his daughter’s birthday, and this time it was his birthday. I just love bothering him and his poor family on their birthdays – I never leave them alone. I gave him a cookie wrapped in a napkin that I found on the ground.”

I’m sure he’s OK. 

“Is he though? Has anyone heard from him?”

The album also sees you work with Ane Brun, Matias Tellez (Girl In Red, Maisie Peters), Chris Greatti (Yungblud, Blink-182, Pussy Riot), Dave Hamelin (Beyonce, King Princess and Zara Larsson) and Magnus Skylstad. Greatti is somewhat of a maximalist – what did he bring to the table?

“That! I tend to go into very dark landscapes. I like when my songs sound like a landscape, but I needed a few songs on this album to sound like a different part of the process I’m trying to deal with.

“Most of the people I work with come with a little strategy, and it’s based on me meeting them in a bar then saying, ‘Let’s go to the studio now!’ With Chris, it was because I liked his hair. He had a mullet and a glam-rock thing going on. I didn’t know who he had worked with before, but he seemed really interesting. We laughed a lot and we just played. Sometimes it’s about the art, sometimes it’s just about playing, and sometimes it’s about both. We’re really good friends now.”

So if Tom Rowlands brought out the raver in you, Chris Greatti brought out the glam rocker, what did Dave Hamelin bring out in you? 

“I remember I lost my voice when I went into the studio with him. It’s not often I work with new people, but sometimes it’s nice to be surprised by the unknown. Not The Unknown from that horrible Willy Wonka Experience…”

Oh you saw that? Are you not gutted to have missed it while you were in the UK? 

“I was gutted. I would have loved to have seen The Unknown up-close like that. Why the fuck was he there? It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Well, there’s your next music video

“Don’t out my ideas! But to be thrown into the unknown, I wanted to cancel as I’d lost my voice my manager told me to go [into the studio with Hamelin]. I was there for four hours, I said, ‘Can you make it sound like hell?’ He made it sound terrible like I wanted, I just screamed because I couldn’t sing and it was really satisfying. After four hours I said goodbye. It was a really fast, beautiful, ugly thing – but it was just what I needed.”

Speaking of that primal urge, you play some drums and percussion on this record too right? 

“I love being in touch with rhythms. I love a very big diversity in the beats in my music. A long time ago I realised that a lot of deaf people or people with hearing disabilities liked my music, so I make sure to always have a lot of vast variation in the bass regions so that it can be felt.”

How is the new album going to change the live show? 

“One of my favourite shows from my childhood – and adulthood – was Avatar: The Last Airbender (not the movie, we don’t talk about that). I always felt like I was either air or water, and I feel like people are scared to change. They’re scared of me changing, they’re scared of the world changing, and themselves. That’s the most beautiful ability we have; it’s so freeing. Jesus Christ! It will change. I want more air, I want to create more space. I want every song to have huge balls.”

You’re playing Royal Albert Hall on your 2024 tour. That has plenty of space for balls.

“Yes, Royal Albert’s balls! I’m excited for every show, and just excited in general.”

And Glastonbury? 

“Heck yes! In the name of mathematics, I will conquer Glastonbury. I feel like I have to redeem myself there. Every time I go there, I’ve always had a holiday for like a month. Boy, do I know how to take time off! I always arrive all shrivelled like a raisin. This time I’m going to come back fresh and sweet like a plum. I love Glastonbury because it’s so iconic. Make sure that if you’re going to use drugs that you know what’s in them. Test your drugs, but most importantly: don’t do drugs. It’s a fucking stupid thing to do.”

Any amazing advice to end on?

“Don’t do drugs, but don’t be a don’t-er. Do be a doer.”

[quentin-didnt-die-in-the-books]

I don't think it was an awful decision to kill off Quentin Coldwater

Okay so I know how my url looks but now that I've spent a bit more time on this site and seen how other people feel about this, I think I should clarify my meaning.

Let me start out by saying Quentin was my favorite character both at first, when I watched the show, and after, when I read the books. He's the one I related to the most and just a character I enjoyed watching. His death was a shock and I stopped watching the show for a while after. But having read the books and gotten some distance from the incident, I don't hate the decision to kill him in the show. This is partly because he doesn't die in the books so if I want, I can just choose to only consider that ending as the real one.

But more importantly, a main point of the story that the books tell is that no matter what awful things happen in your life, you need to find things that matter and ways to move on and still be happy. Since the books are from Quentin's point of view, we mostly see his struggles and successes when it comes to finding reasons to live. But the show intentionally showcases the other characters much more than the books did and there are plenty of storylines that Quentin isn't even a part of. It is harder, in certain ways, to build empathy for characters through a tv show because it's not from their point of view and we, as audience members, can often have different interpretations of something we watch. So rather than being able to live through Quentin, we are almost a part of the story ourselves and we have to make our own way and come to a conclusion ourselves, rather than being led there by a narrator. In this way, Quentin's death is something that we have to get past and find a way to move on from in the story. I'll admit season five isn't my favorite season but it does have some of my favorite scenes in the show. It doesn't just throw us back into a fun fantasy world with silly humor and adventures. There is a grieving process and it takes a while for the show to become at all lighthearted again. After reaching Quentin's death and losing all interest in the show for a bit, it is significant to me that I ended up missing the world that it created enough to go back to it even knowing that my favorite character would not be a part of it. I'm not trying to compare this to losing someone you love in the real world because I don't think that is an accurate comparison at all but it is comparable, in my mind, to losing something that had sentimental value or missing out on an opportunity you can't get back. Realizing that something hasn't turned out the way you wanted it to and being able to move on and still enjoy other things again is very important and I think the show did manage to capture the spirit of the books even if that might not have been the writers' exact intention. I think some media is about escapism and creating a world where things are better but I don't think that is a requirement or a guarantee.

I also just want to mention that I understand the fine line between media as an art form and media as representation of the real world but I think this show does an excellent job of giving the audience a meaningful story even if it isn't necessarily "fair" to the characters. Obviously, media can perpetuate discrimination in the way it treats certain identities and communities (e.g. discrimination on the basis of gender, race, sexuality, disability, mental health) that are already discriminated against in society. I think in this instance though, there is also a case to be made for seeing the characters, especially Quentin, as a way to cope with the awful things that happen in the world, rather than just an expression of those awful things. I think The Magicians does do a good enough job of developing complex characters that they are not simply caricatures meant to represent entire groups in society for the purpose of making broad claims about those groups.

Obviously, I wanted Queliot to happen but I really don't think this show was trying to be homophobic given the many other examples of queer relationships in the show. I do think we still have a ways to go in how mental health issues are portrayed and treated in media but I think Quentin's death, and the whole show, itself, is about much more than that.

[akiumzeno]

A love letter to Haru Tsugino

Is this an analysis? Maybe.

While Fuyu is my favourite character bar none, today, I gained a new emotional appreciation for Haru in the form of relating to him. And this is just me jotting down my thoughts as I go through his past.

MAJOR ZENO SPOILERS

When we start with Haru's memories, we see him talking about how everyone bullies him at school and making fun of how he is unloved by his parents. He begins contemplating what love is and what does it look like.

And of course, that sort of thing is natural. He doesn't know it because he was never raised in a home with loving parents. How can he know if he's never experienced it? His parents love his sister but not himself. They're capable of loving him but it's not given to him. And he can't understand one bit of it.

The next thing we see, he goes inside his home and tries to say hi to his "mom" with no response back. Unlike himself, when his "father" and "sister" announce they're home, his "mother" does reply back. He soon gets kicked out of the house by his "dad" and forced to watch his family eat together while he remains in the cold. In his household, he's only invisible. He's not acknowledged, let alone loved. And he tries so hard to get himself to be acknowledged by being a good boy, getting good grades, smiling, etc.

And that hurts. Trying to achieve things and trying to be the best you can be in order to not be ignored, yelled at, or punished by the people who, despite everything, you look up to because it's a natural instinct to. It's a natural instinct to love your parents and want to be loved by them. But it hurts to only get that in return through achievements and that may not even work all the time.

Why can't our parents just love us as we are? Why do we always have to prove ourselves to be loved? We try all the time to gain that but we'll never be enough. Is it so hard to love us like that? We try to be good, we try our best. But the best isn't enough for them.

One day as Haru is at a shed on a beach, Aki and Natsu run inside and Haru hides away. But he later sees Aki begin to eat Natsu as Natsu's selfless act to help fulfil his desires and let him remember her while she's still herself. It's an act that would hurt her, would kill her. But she accepts it because it's all for her brother.

And this moves Haru. To be hurt by someone, to be dying because of them but still be able to say "I love you and forgive you" to them. We're all messy humans with flaws. We do bad things, we make mistakes. We hurt others, and we make people cry. But to still forgive those who hurt you and love them, that's a love so beautiful. And he wants that so badly. For someone to say "I love you with all your messy flaws and you're not unloveable because of what you do. I'll love you no matter what".

And so, he begins searching for that.

Every time he makes a new connection with someone, he immediately tries to kill them and get them to say that they love him despite what he's doing. But of course, none of them do. They don't know him well enough for them to accept his version of love. So every time, he gets a 'no'.

Eventually, his parents find out about his murders and scold him and call him a monster for what he does. And he's had enough of them. Their "love" is not love and never will be. Love is not trying to be something else so that they will love you. Real love accepts you as you are. Real love is unconditional.

He tries to get them to say "I love you" to him as he threatens them but it's not genuine and he knows that. And so, he kills them out of anger for lying and because he sees no purpose in them if they can't love him.

But this creates a sense of emptiness. If his own parents can't love him when they're meant to be the people who love you no matter what, then what hope does he have? No one will ever be able to give him his ultimate love. So his desire to kill others---his form of love---goes away. In fact, so does his voice. He can't say anything now that he believes his life has no purpose.

Then that's when Aki comes back into the picture. But instead, as his doctor. But, Aki's heart can see into his so easily. Seeing that he is disappointed and that's why he doesn't say anything. And that's when a connection (of sorts) is formed.

And as they get to know each other more and more, Haru begins to learn more about Aki. He's caring, he genuinely wants to be friends with Haru, he shares his treats, he's open, he's warm... These traits make Haru fond of Aki and become close to him. But at the same time, he's also confused. Why is he treated so nicely? Every time someone has treated him nicely was only because he was acting good. But he doesn't act his happy, good self. So why is he treated like this?

People have only hurt him time and time again, never giving him love. So why does this person do so? What for? Why? Why is he being treated like this? Why can he be treated like this by someone who's not his family but his own family treats him like crap? Why?

And then that's when Haru sees Fuyu and Aki fighting and he learns that Aki has killed people before. He later asks why Aki did so and ends up spilling his own feelings out to Aki. He lets himself be vulnerable and lets himself just talk about his feelings. And Aki listens carefully.

And for once, he feels understood. For once, someone understands him. To be accepted no matter what, to be loved no matter what. He so desperately longs for it because he was never given that type of care and affection.

Love me. Love me. Love me. Please just love me. Accept me for what I am. Love me for what I am. I'm dirty, I'm messy, I'm not a good boy. But love me even though that's what I am. Please give me love.

Those feelings bubble up until he wants to kill Aki and get that love. And he tries and fails to kill Aki. He ends up separated from Aki. And he ends up contemplating his existence.

Is there a love out there for me? Does it exist? Or does it not? Will anyone ever love me? Or will everyone just reject me and there's no purpose?

(Vent session, you can skip if you wish)

Everyday I try to appeal to my caregivers. I try to act good, I try to get good grades, I try to never yell at them or act mad with them, I try to never cry in front of them. But no matter what I do, I get ignored, yelled at or punished. The few compliments I receive from them tend to come from when they're speaking about me to strangers. Whenever they talk to me, it tends to be only yelling and throwing insults at me. Whenever I cry in front of them, they shout at me and roll their eyes.

I remember how my dad said to me that he wouldn't have given birth to me if he knew I was autistic. He did try to say something after that to discredit what he said but I don't even remember it. All I remember was those words. I remember those more than anything else that happened that day, moment or second.

I also remember how he said that my mother once got up in the middle of the night to go to the airport and take a flight somewhere to abandon our family because she was tired of us. She ended up being convinced to not leave my family. It happened while I was a kid and I had no idea. And that hurt. I remember crying at that moment.

But despite this, I try to convince myself that maybe I'm wrong. They do love me, just in their own way. They just want me to be better. They're still people, they're not perfect. They love me. I'm not someone who they regret having in their life. I'm not that. Please love me. Love me. There's love there, right?

But each and every time, I only get beaten down and cry because I feel unloved.

I keep trying to seek love from them. But it feels useless. I hope that one day they'll love me. I keep hoping. And I keep trying not just because I want their love but also because if I don't try, I'll get yelled at.

And it's hard for me to seek love from someone else. Every time I've tried to make friends, it doesn't end well because I end up getting bullied. I'm trying to open up my heart more but I'm not sure if it'll ever be open again. Only the future will tell.

Back to your scheduled ZENO talk.

Sometimes I wish I could meet Haru himself. I wish I could tell him about my life and say I understand how he feels. I want to give him love. I want to show him that love does exist and it's out there. Maybe I could let him kill me and eat me up. Maybe.

And I wish there's someone out there for me that will do the same. I hope there is someone out there who will love me for me. I want that. But I don't know if I ever will get it. And that's scary. But I have to keep trying. I have to. No matter what.

[acorpsecalledcorva]

Definitely something that struck home for me about Sar and Ozturk s Theory of the Functional Dissociation of the Self is the idea of how a 'Sociological Self' develops in absence of it's connection to the 'Psychological Self'. In fact, my final year uni project was on this very subject (I just didn't realise it at the time) on how it relates to gender, i.e. I know what my gender identity is, but where did my definition of what that identity means come from? Why do some aspects of gender feel right to me and others feel wrong?

And this extends from a much more holistic sense of who the fuck is us? Who am I? Really? At my core, what is really there that is me? What of me is truly mine? Because I've never even felt like a real person, let alone a whole person. I'm a facsimile of a person. A simulacrum in the simulation that is the world I experience.

And discovering that I was a system didn't really help with that either, am I the sum of my parts? Am I a teenage girl and a child and a vampire and a wolf and a cat boy and a 16th century Norwegian witch and a dead girl from Belgium and a crow monster and my father and my mother and my ex fiancee and so many other unique and incompatible identities? I can't be. Because they're very much not me. In fact on a very fundamental level they must not be me, that's the whole purpose of their existence, to be not me.

The way that Sar and Ozturk phrase it is that, under the pressure of an environment filled with insurmountable stresses that can't be overcome, the 'psychological self' is buried and hidden away to protect it. The 'Sociological Self' must therefore not only develop without it, but make up for it's absence. By avoiding the internal, it must rely on the external to inform it. If the immediate external environment is too harsh, which, of course it is, then it must expand it's scope beyond to wider culture and failing that, the fictional (not that culture is anything more than the fictions we collectively tell ourselves but you know what I mean). Rejected by the host, the 'Psychological Self' attempts to reach out to the world by creating new 'Sociological Selves', using the vision of the world internalised by the host as templates on how and who to be.

And this is what "less than one personality" means to me. Not a broken plate that can be put back together, or a broken mirror where all the individual pieces are still mirrors, but the result of multiple attempts to create a cohesive sense of self without full access to the entirety of human experience. Some attempts are based on lies, others on guesses, and some may be partially correct but lack context or a place to be understood and fully realised.

I'm like those old medieval drawings of animals based on descriptions of animals but having never seen them before.

This. This is me. This is what I really am. I'm like if a person didn't know what a person was and tried to make more people.

Especially bottom right, that may as well be a fucking selfie of my subconscious.

And of course I know there's a me, somewhere inside, there's a me that is me, but I can't find it, it's hidden from me. I look and I feel where it must be, but I just cannot grasp what it is. Like I kinda understand now what my IFS therapist was talking about in reference to a "core self", I now know what is meant by that, and I also know why I feel so strongly that I don't have one. Like dark matter, I can theorise about the properties of the glue that holds my galaxy together, but I cannot for the life of me detect it, I cannot interact with it, it's completely invisible, totally outside of my reach, but it's there. But it's not a whole personality either, it's not even a part of my personality, I cannot just add it to my other parts because it's isolation has left it undeveloped. Imagine asking for a dozen cupcakes and getting 11 cupcakes and a pile of flour, sugar, and egg. It's not just a missing piece, it's not even a piece yet.

And it's this, this separation and underdevelopment of the 'Psychological Self' upheld by Dissociative barriers and absolute phobia of the internal that separates my experience as a DID system from other members of the wider plural including endogenic community. I'm not going to say that this is the defining DID experience, because it's not, but it's definitely why I fail to relate to a metric fuck ton of y'alls experiences and description of yourselves, just as so many of you may tell me that you don't relate to what I'm saying right now.

And it's of course worth mentioning that this is only one way of rationalising things. It's like the oceans, we draw lines and say "this is the Pacific and this is the Atlantic" and there's value in some contexts to divide them this way and compare the differences between them, or the different layers of the atmosphere saying "this is the stratosphere and this is the flanglesphere" but it's all water and it's all air. Which way we divide it and where we draw the lines is only as important as what we're trying to achieve by doing so and the purpose that it serves.

This framework helps me to conceptualise myself the best so far, if it helps you conceptualise yourself too then you can incorporate it, if it doesn't and you have a better one then you can use that. We're all just smudges in a left handed person's handwriting at the end of the day.

[yuyuswrld]

O Captain, My Captain || 3

characters: zeke yeager x reader (this chapter), various aot boys x reader

notes: sorry for the delay! had to come over a huge writers block. this chapter is kind of plot heavy as well, but the smut will be cont. in 3.5/4 :) tysm everyone for your support as well! <3

content warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. heavy sexual content. DUBIOUS CONSENT, power imbalance (zeke is the other school’s volleyball coach), HEAVY degradation, vulgar language, usage of terms such as slut and bitch

read the introduction here, part 1, or part 2 here!

There are times when you watch Eren play that remind you of dancing on the ice, sweat beading slightly. The contrast of the cold arena and your hot skin creates the sickly sweet and addicting feeling of paradise and freedom on your body. To be focused but to also be free, to glide like a dog relinquished from his chains, running free through a field of tall grass. You see a vision of a future in his eyes, one among the flashes of sports cameras and post-competition interviews where fans cheer excitedly in the background. A future where Yeager is posted prominently across the backs of people’s fan jerseys or a household name that gets discussed over Christmas dinner. If he was meant to be anything, it was to be an athlete.

It makes you want to cry that he got to have it and you didn’t. Maybe that’s what really bothered you about him. Your own envy seeping out at the seams, body overwhelming with the rage of a career in the sport that you loved. To be able to stand face-forward to the camera, jumping and screaming with excitement as you hold the gold metal in your hands. But now, it would never be you.

Your final highschool show, after this you could dedicate yourself to the world of competitive figure skating. There would be no more homework to complete after you got a gold, no more biology classes that seemed like they would never end. It would be life on the ice, never having felt anything better than the rush of cold air blasting your face as you stepped in the rink. To soar like a dove throughout the skies of the ice as if it was called upon you by God himself to do. But as your head thumped against the ice during your failed jump, you already knew it was over before your had eyes forced themselves shut, refusing to acknowledge the collective gasp of the large audience. With a single devastating concussion, your career had slipped out of your fingers. The dove had been released from its cage.

“I just think it’s really nice that you ended up liking volleyball,” Armin says, picking at his dining hall food. “It sucks to be stuck with someone who doesn’t care for a manager. We’re all here because we’re good at what we do and because we can’t imagine ourselves not being involved in it.” 

You smile at Armin’s kind words but take a second to contemplate them, unsure if your dedication to the sport is as commendable as he gives credit for. Sure, it’s been a couple of chaotic but enjoyable months, but it’s hard to say you should be managing them. To have the stars in your eyes as you gaze at the ball, eyes narrowed in and head in the game. Reflexes attuned to the ball soaring above, to be here rather than anywhere else in the world.

“You college athletes are a different breed,” you sigh, jealousy escaping in a single breath.

One day, none of this would matter to you. This might not even matter to the rest of them in a not-so-far-away future. Not all of them were going to continue playing volleyball forever, no matter how starry-eyed they are now. Not everyone goes to nationals and not all things that matter in college will matter forever. The world will always revolve. But it mattered now, and here you are, in a major having nothing to do with sports but still taking the spot of someone else who could care more than you do about the sport. It was one thing your parents had ingrained in you: never take something from someone who needs it more.

You snap yourself out of the state of self-pity, glancing back up at Armin, who has taken a heaping bite of his food. You might as well make the best of it while you’re here.

“We’re going to Marley for a fancy training camp, right?”

“Yeah! We’ve never gone before. Reiner and Eren’s families are both from there! Eren’s older brother is the coach of one of Marley’s best university teams.”

“So why didn’t he go to that university?” You ask.

“Family drama,” Armin sighs. “I don’t think those two like each other at all. I won’t bore you with the details, but don’t expect Eren to be in the best mood when the camp starts.”

You watch in silence from your fold-out chair, hands folded neatly in your lap. Eren’s form is almost impeccable, even somewhat delicate as he serves the ball with unimaginable force. Ever since you arrived yesterday, the tension between him and his brother has been palpable. Coach Levi and Coach Zeke haven’t been seeming to get along well either, butting heads at every turn which has led to you having to sit in on a lot of mutual scowling. 

“He’s not your little shit to coach, Zeke,” Levi almost spits at him. “Not anymore anyway.” It’s only returned by a petty glare from the bearded man, who excuses himself at the comment. Despite the minor scuffles, you’ve been watching in awe as the boys focus themselves on the constant practice matches. It was beyond impressive, the middle blockers of the other team picking up on unspoken strategies just for Armin to adapt to their solution. 

Eren rushes in to spike the ball as it flies into the air, arm swinging before a loud smack resonates through the gym and a whistle wafts in the air. Eren pats Armin on the back, almost launching the poor, startled boy. You two make eye contact, and you shoot him a congratulatory thumbs-up. He doesn’t return the gesture, only going to cuss Jean out for a bad dig he made in the second set. It stings, even in a small way, but you get out of your chair and tidy up the gym as practice comes to a close. 

You sit with Levi, Zeke, and the manager of Liberio University’s team manager, Pieck. She shoots you awkward smiles every so often, you assume in attempts to diffuse the painful silences of the dinner that had been arranged up in the nature of hospitality.

“Is this your first time in Marley?” She smiles at you, taking a sip of the beer that sits in front of her. You nod, a pleasant smile coming across your face.

“It is! But I’m having a great time so far. I’m especially excited to check out the arcade room back at the university.”

“I have some paperwork I need to get in my office back at the school. I’ll show you how to get there since it’s along the way.”

True to his word, Zeke drives you and Levi back to the university, where Levi departs to the assigned housing to sleep off the travel earlier. He guides you through the ginormous, winding halls of the school, they’re never-ending in nature and decorated with trophies from students of the past. One catches your eye, it’s an ornate gold trophy, decorated by jewels at the cusp. 

The nameplate reads as Best Coach of the Year, 1996. Grisha Yeager. You pause, steps halting behind the taller man to inspect it from outside of the glass case. There are a few beside it, reading the same name, but for different years.

“Is this your father’s?”

He turns around, his scowl too obvious for comfort. Oh fuck. Should you not have asked that? Before you can attempt to rescind it, Zeke talks.

“Yes. He’s well-known in Marley for leading our volleyball team to win international competitions multiple years in a row.”

“Seems like the passion runs in the family,” you chide in, despite being unsure of Zeke’s pleasure on the current subject. Although, you’re not quite sure what is pleasurable for him overall. The entire time you’ve been here he’s seemed displeased by everyone’s presence, whether it be Levi, Eren, or even you. 

“I am where I am because I did it to please my father. Eren still loves it, in spite of our father. There’s a reason he went as far for school as possible.”

“So, if you don’t love volleyball, why do you care so much about what Eren does now? You’ve been tearing him apart since we got here.”

“Because he can do better than our father. I want to see Grisha Yeager crushed.” Oh. What the fuck? You shake it off, following Zeke as he deems the conservation over and resumes his trek to his office. As you arrive, you first start by standing at the door frame, but allow yourself in as he beckons you. He clears the paperwork off of his desk, placing it in his briefcase before locking his gaze with you.

“Sit.” 

“What?” You glance around the room, trying to figure out at which seat he’s implicating. 

“Sit on my desk.” His voice is commanding, the same brutal tone he used when scolding Eren’s missed spikes. You step forward, legs moving on their own before you find solace on the cold wooden desk, cringing as it touches your exposed legs. Zeke’s fingers land on your chin, grabbing it and forcing it into a position where you look up at him.

“You’re so obedient, keep it that way or see what happens. I’m not in the best of moods, so I’m really not trying to play any fucking games.” His fingers are sophisticated as he removes your shirt, pads tracing your skin in unrecognizable patterns. He begins by playing with your nipples through your bra first, experimentally before they resume their professionalism in toying with you. Even despite your confusion, your body reacts in indescribable ways, back arching to savor and give into his touch. He goes to unhook it, proceeding by latching his lips on one as his other hand caresses your other side.

You can feel his cock nudge against you every time he shifts, allowing yourself to whimper at the gain and sudden loss of contact in such a short period. Zeke releases his mouth from you, using the back of his hand to wipe the saliva off. 

“What do you want? I can’t be doing everything, even if you are such a desperate little bitch.” His hands play with the fabric of your skirt as he continues to stare you down, waiting for a response. 

“Eat me out, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, coach.” That answer seems to appease him as he flips your skirt up before kneeling and placing the smallest lick on your clit through your underwear. Your hands attempt to find solace in his hair, but are swatted away. Control issues, got it. You’re snapped out of your head as Zeke moves your panties to the side and immediately plunges a finger into your wet cunt without warning.

“You’re already fucking soaked,” he remarks coldly, but it’s followed by his tongue finding its placing on your clit once again. The brutal, face-paced assault on your hole continues as he continues, unrelenting in the wake of your moans bouncing off the walls. You feel as he adds another finger inside before picking his pace back up to where it was. You feel as the coil builds in your stomach, a familiar feeling drawing in closer.

Zeke’s fingers stop their ministrations in full as he shifts his focus up to you. “Good little sluts beg to cum.” He withdraws his fingers and you clench around the emptiness. Instead, you feel as he traces lazy circles around your sensitive spots, clearly not interested in allowing you the time to think.

“Please, oh my god, please. Coach! Let me cum all over your fingers.” Zeke only nods in acknowledgement, but you feel as his spit lands against your hole erotically. Unwavering in his resolve, he ignores your gasp of shock and his pace resumes its toe curling effect. Once again, the feeling reaches its fever pitch as you release along his fingers. He slows down before finally stopping. Zeke stands up, placing his fingers along your lips.

“Lick it up, all of it. I can’t fucking stand filthy bitches.”

[twistedtummies2]

Top 5 Portrayals of Charles Augustus Milverton

Our final list devoted to the supporting cast of Sherlock Holmes and his world was the single most challenging to create. I’ve talked about Professor Moriarty, Irene Adler, and Sebastian Moran in previous lists, and all of them are villains I think most would place in the “love to hate” category. These are characters who, either because they are simply entertaining, or because they have some deeper and more complex elements of interest, we actually enjoy seeing in action (to some degree or another), and perhaps even find ourselves rooting for to some degree. Of course, an antagonist of any sort doesn’t HAVE to be likable in order to be effective: they simply need to be good at what they do, which is providing opposition to the protagonist. Some bad guys are meant to be characters the readers - as well as the heroes of the story - find utterly and totally repugnant. A friend of mine refers to them as “punchable” villains, and I think that’s accurate: they’re characters you just hate with a passion and want nothing more than to see them decked out with a punch to the face, if not something better. One of the earliest examples of such “punchable” characters is our topic for today: the Master Blackmailer, Charles Augustus Milverton. Despite only appearing in one story (which, to be fair, is the treatment nearly all of Holmes’ enemies got), Milverton has made his mark as one of the detectives most infamous and despicable villains, mostly because of the fact that not only are the readers meant to hate him…but even Holmes HIMSELF expresses absolute DISGUST with Milverton. The character is written to be the most deplorable slimeball on the face of the Earth, his attitude and actions so vile that even the World’s Greatest Detective - who has faced so many criminals and crooks - despises him. Keep in mind, Holmes holds nothing but respect for Professor Moriarty, the Napoleon of Crime and his arch-enemy: for him to so utterly detest Milverton is a sign of just how awful a person this character is.

Milverton is an opportunistic cad of the highest order. He is described as a sort of human snake, with Doyle using reptilian analogies for the character’s motions, appearance, and so forth. In the books, Milverton does what he does primarily for greed: he blackmails people and profits off of their misfortunes, and this is really how he makes much of his living. Nearly everything he owns is due to him weaseling money, power, and so forth out of other human beings. To make matters worse, if someone DOESN’T pay up, he still profits in his own mind: once the dirty laundry he hangs over their heads gets aired out to the populace, everyone else in his grasp, present or future, will KNOW he’s being serious. It’s indicated that Milverton takes sadistic joy out of what he does, as he craves the feeling of being in power and control over others: in some versions, even in death, he shows neither remorse nor even fear, as he still believes, after he’s gone, he’ll have the upper hand. In others - including the original story that bears his name - once he realizes he’s cornered, he cowers and cringes and crawls like the craven worm he is. Either way, any time Milverton is beaten, it is satisfying beyond belief: that is ultimately the way he is meant to be. A smear on the fabric of humanity that everyone - the readers, the protagonists, and I suspect even the author - feels VERY happy to see washed away. To say there are “favorite” versions of Milverton of mine is overselling things. That indicates I actually LIKE the guy in ANY rendition, and I really don’t: no one is supposed to. But I felt, given his reputation and prominence, he deserved some limelight as much as the other characters I’ve covered. So, I looked at a few basics: which versions were the most satisfying to see beaten, which versions were played by actors I have a particular fondness for (despite such a horrible fiend being their role), and which ones did something interesting with the character that I can’t help but praise? Taking all those things together, allow to present - with an almighty asterisk beside the title - My Top 5 “Favorite” Portrayals of Charles Augustus Milverton.

5. Barry Jones, from the 60s BBC Series.

Jones is what might be termed - and you will pardon my blunt and crude analogy - your “basic b!tch” Milverton. He sticks to the source and sticks to it truly, without much reimagining involved. That’s not a bad thing, but I think other Milvertons higher up do a bit more interesting twists with the character. Jones is perfect casting, being a master at playing snobbish and reprehensibly dandified fellows; in another Sherlock Holmes outing, the film “A Study in Terror,” he played such a character in the form of the Duke of Shires: a slightly comical fop who starts off as an unlikeable so-and-so, but eventually shows he has a good heart beneath his pompous exterior. Milverton is essentially if you took that character and removed all likability from his soul.

4. Boris Ryzhukin, from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes & Dr. Watson.

While I think Jones’ portrayal of the Master Blackmailer is closer to the novel, Ryzhukin’s performance is equally excellent, and the adaptation makes an interesting change to the character. In this version, Milverton’s story is the prelude to the events of “The Final Problem,” as he is revealed to be one of Professor Moriarty’s top agents. His case is therefore the catalyst that sets off the chain of events ending in the battle at Reichenbach Falls.

3. Robert Hardy, from the Granada Series.

While I have some issues with the creative liberties taken in this adaptation of the story - which is very rare for the Brett series, I must confess - I think Robert Hardy’s take on Milverton is absolutely perfect, being both accurate to the source and going just a little bit beyond that to make him as creepy and even intimidating as he is slimy and sickening. Not much else to say, just a masterclass of fine acting in the guise of a thoroughly awful dastard.

2. Lars Mikkelsen, from Sherlock.

In this version, the character is renamed “Charles Augustus Magnussen,” to better match Mikkelsen’s Danish roots. The change of name, however, does nothing to disguise this versions nastiness. While much of season three of “Sherlock” was “meh,” I think Magnussen’s episode is one of the best of the whole series, and while he is a totally dispensable customer, the incarnation was very interesting. In this version, Magnussen has the exact same “powers” as Sherlock Holmes, being just as much of a genius and a brilliant expert at deduction as the detective, if not superior to him. He uses these abilities to figure out people’s weaknesses more easily and exploit them.

1. The Version from Moriarty the Patriot.

This is the closest any version of Milverton has come to being a “love to hate” character for me. (The keyword being “closest.”) While we’ve seen a version of Milverton who worked for Moriarty, this version turns out to be an enemy to BOTH Sherlock Holmes AND his arch-nemesis, and ends up being the closest thing to a “big bad” the series has given us so far. He is described as the “pure evil” counterpoint to Moriarty’s “necessary evil” in this reimagining, and is fueled more by his sadistic desires than greed. He's voiced by Kenji Nojima in Japanese, and Kayleigh McKee in the English Dub.

[florafaunatic]

What's so cool about the way UT aus evolved

For many years I would draw and sketch and stuff. Not all of it was spectacular, but it wasn't bad. Yet, at some point or another I would end up ripping the drawing up or throwing it away. It was never out of malicious intent. I just did it. I don't know why either; it wasn't like I disliked the drawings.

So, I discovered the insanely large and depth-y fandom of Undertale. Pretty soon, I started reading about the star sanses and bad sanses. I put a lot of effort into figuring out the canon (fanon since none of it was canon???) truths about the characters and what was fanon (like what Blue's deal actually was). As I was reading comics I came across a alternate multiverse where Error was a chaotic child and Ink was a tired dad. In the comic (I wish I could remember what it was called so I can credit the artist) Error makes friends with these shadow creatures. They lead him to help destroy an au that the artist seemingly wanted gone. Ink later finds/kidnaps him and brings him home. Ink explains that many creators, for whatever reason, want to destroy their work. But in the long run, it's not what they want. He says that everything, no matter how "bad" it is deserves to exist. Just so someone knows it's there. Even if it isn't shared with the world, that doesn't matter.

After reading that comic I thought about Ink. He's a soulless creature seeking to feel things by feeding off the beautiful work creators and him make. I think, perhaps unintentionally perhaps intentionally, Ink is a metaphor for artists and creators (the non-canon kind). We seek validation or happiness or even any emotion from the things we and others create. We could be having trouble with finding our own emotions outside of the internet. It's okay to need to escape our lives for a little bit. It's not a bad thing if you have an idea to share at all. Helping others feel better is good too. But just like Ink we have to be careful not to let it consume our lives. We can't let fandoms be the only way we can feel. We have to generate emotion in other areas of our lives as well. We have to make sure our community isn't only online. We have to make sure that what we say online is safe, and that we are not unintentionally exposing ourselves to dangerous people.

Next, I addressed Error. He too, can be a metaphor. He reflects the opposite side of the spectrum. He is has been so hurt in the past, even if he doesn't understand how, that he feels the need to hurt others. He could be compared to a hater, but I don't like that term. Hurt people hurt people, and while that doesn't make internet hate okay or justified by any means, it can offer and explanation. People who say mean things about art (actually mean and baseless things, not voicing an opinion) are probably seeking attention. The want to fight with you because the consequences don't seem real. You have no idea what's going on in their lives, just like they don't know you. When they seek that attention, don't give it. Walk away in the metaphorical internet sense. If you need to, block them. But don't fight hate with hate. It never works. We have to love the people who hurt us or it's no use in saying we aren't like them. If you remember saying something mean on the internet, I'm sorry for you. Even if you don't believe it, there are people who love you. So, so many people.

Neither of these characters were created for this purpose. They weren't even meant to go together. But still they make a beautiful world for everyone to enjoy. So whether you are an artist or a reader, an Error or an Ink, whether you are like me or not, we built this sorta by accident, so let's appreciate how cool it is.

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

So this has been said before and by better people than me, but the thing is, anything worth doing is worth doing badly. 

There are people talking about AI art being somehow valid because it means that “anyone can create art” but—anyone can create art [see this post for some lovely discussion and examples.]. It’s part of what makes us human. Humanity has been unique among all of evolution for creating and sharing art, whether that be stories or music or paintings or crafts. Drawing in wet sand, handprints in concrete. Kids make art on our walls; we wash it off and they do it again. We sing in the shower and doodle on scrap paper. We tell stories because we don’t know how not to, even if it’s a simple as what happened during our day. 

The oldest known instruments are bone flutes from 40000 years ago; likewise, the oldest known paintings. There are oral histories that have been passed down for tens of thousands of years. We yearn to create, to share parts of ourselves in one way or another. We yearn to learn about each other from these shared fragments. There are countless museums all over the world with millions of visitors each year who travel just to see what someone else created, what bits of themselves they gave to the world.

AI “art” isn’t art. It doesn’t create from a soul, it doesn’t share fragments of its self. It steals people’s fragments and mashes them together to make something that may be aesthetically pleasing, but that can never be more than that. It can’t tell a truth because it doesn’t know what truth is.

But in this modern world where everything is commodified, every hobby is supposed to be monetized, everything is supposed to pass some sort of “test”, it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that aesthetically pleasing is all that matters. It’s easy to want to earn those clicks, those likes, to feel validated by something that was mashed together by your keystrokes. It's easy to embrace the pleasant lies.

It’s hard to be bad at something. It’s hard to spend hours making something, to make yourself vulnerable, and have it not live up to what was in your head. But that’s also the nature of being human. Nobody is born good at something; they work at it. And sometimes that work isn’t aesthetically pleasing. Sometimes the story reads awkwardly. Sometimes you hit a wrong note, or spend the whole song out of key. Sometimes the photo isn’t in focus, and the pot is lopsided, and the cake looks like you dropped it. 

Sometimes you scare your cat with the glorious cacophony of learning. 

You can’t get good without being bad first, and looking at what’s bad, and trying again. Maybe this time, your lines will be crisper, even if your proportions are still off. Maybe this time, you’ll have one good sentence, one good paragraph. This time, you’ll play Chopsticks and only be off on a couple of notes; your scarf is lumpy but it’s warm and vibrant. You remember the crumb layer on your cake and it tastes good, and you meant to take a picture of the flower but you got the bee in focus, and the pot is still lopsided but it looks like a Dali clock and you kind of like it. 

Or maybe not. Maybe it will never be Insta-worthy, maybe it will lurk in your word processor for the rest of time, maybe the sketch never leaves the sketchbook and you never sing on stage. But even if it’s bad—it’s still truth. It’s still a piece of you. And that is still a celebration of being human.

If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.

[savagewildnerness]

Nicki, I feel you. Oh, but that we could only escape ourselves & just become music. I don’t know whether this captures anything Lestat feels from Nicki’s music, or that Nicki feels. But here it is: me feeling today.

Improvisation:

“Still the sound came. It came rising out of the instrument and cleaving the night as if it were some shining element, other than air and light and matter, that might climb to the very stars. He bore down on the strings, and I could almost see him against my eyelids, swaying back and forth, his head bowed against the violin as if he meant to pass into the music, and then all sense of him vanished and there was only the sound. The long vibrant notes, and the chilling glissandos, and the violin singing in its own tongue to make every other form of speech seem false. Yet as the song deepened, it became the very essence of despair as if its beauty were a horrid coincidence, grotesquery without a particle of truth.

Was this what he believed, what he had always believed when I talked on and on about goodness? Was he making the violin say it? Was he deliberately creating those long, pure liquid notes to say that beauty meant nothing because it came from the despair inside him, and it had nothing to do with the despair finally, because the despair wasn't beautiful, and beauty then was a horrid irony? I didn't know the answer. But the sound went beyond him as it always had. It grew bigger than the despair. It fell effortlessly into a slow melody, like water seeking its own downward mountain path. It grew richer and darker still and there seemed something undisciplined and chastening in it, and heartbreaking and vast. I lay on my back on the roof now with my eyes on the stars.

Pinpoints of light mortals could not have seen. Phantom clouds. And the raw, piercing sound of the violin coming slowly with exquisite tension to a close. I didn't move. I was in some silent understanding of the language the violin spoke to me.

Nicki, if we could talk again ... If "our conversation" could only continue. Beauty wasn't the treachery he imagined it to be, rather it was an uncharted land where one could make a thousand fatal errors, a wild and indifferent paradise without signposts of evil or good. In spite of all the refinements of civilization that conspired to make art-the dizzying perfection of the string quartet or the sprawling grandeur of Fragonard's canvases-beauty was savage. It was as dangerous and lawless as the earth had been eons before man had one single coherent thought in his head or wrote codes of conduct on tablets of clay. Beauty was a Savage Garden.”

[cosmichighpriestess]

Chosen Ones,

You don't relate to a lot of people not because you haven't tried or you don't understand life, you understand people and life very well, you are a very very wise old soul. But when good things happen to you, you almost can't believe something is going in your favor. We almost overlook how many blessings are in our lives because we're so used to people hurting us, attacking our character, demonizing us, putting us down, and we're so used to watching others getting things that we believe those things will never be meant for us.

Some of us have accepted and don't believe in true love anymore even though we used to hopeless romantics. We prefer being alone now. But remember, (people aligned with you will finally start coming into your life so don't reject them because they are from another Earth that has zero desire to use you or hurt you.) When we see people getting married, going on vacations, getting new opportunities, we don't evil eye them, in fact we just wonder what that feels like to be seen, to be loved and adored by someone, to be accepted by everyone. We have no idea what that feels like, but we try to imagine it for ourselves.

When you start receiving blessings, and magical miracles out of nowhere I want you to remember something. Be conscious, be aware, be present, stay in the flow and recognize when you are feeling numb when something good happens to you. When something amazing happens to you. When you feel numb to it, because you're in disbelief, just shake your whole body, find a place alone for a moment and just start jumping up and down. Just start praising God and your spirit team. Just start crying and letting it all out. Don't care what anyone thinks. Because I don't want you to be numb the entire time you are receiving your blessings that you always deserved. You created everything in your reality by choosing to change your perception. Those are yours. You deserve them because you exist.

Yes, you suffered greatly and your suffering was not in vain, but you deserve them because it's your turn to be happy. You were already happy and grateful for the smallest things, even when you had lost everything you were still grateful to be alive. Do not be afraid to ask people for help with your blessings or holding space for you. No one held space for you, so guess what? Now they will hold space for you because you held space for yourself. When someone offers you help with anything at all, learn how to trust they aren't manipulating you and trying to control you for your energy, but know you deserve it.

Be discerning who really sees you and who God sent for you. It will feel EASY. All you have to do is show up and breathe. THAT'S IT. Now, that God is going to be moving in your life and you are receiving miracles, please record yourself however you feel, document it, write it down, anything and then ground yourself into the Earth with your bare feet, let yourself feel happy and shake your entire body, praise The Divine and get your body grounded onto the Earth so that you are not completely numb and in disbelief that good things are happening to you. You deserve this. You worked hard for this. You surrendered and gave up everything for this.

You worked so hard, everyday in silence, you didn't care if you received flowers because your loving, giving heart wanted to help others. Now God is going to gift you with your flowers in front of the people who refused to give you your flowers for years. Put yourself first now and focus on how your future self behaves. Believe in yourself. You are THAT amazing.

You deserve it ten x fold, no that's right; you deserve 100x fold for life and for your children's children, because of all the trouble you went through, all the additions you won, when you were just trying to survive and not give up and keep your heart pure. No matter what you went through you didn't let them turn you bitter and filled with hatred. Use your anger to fuel your manifestations that rightfully belong to you. You OWN them. You used their attacks to turn it into Gold and learn valuable lessons for yourself to help others.

Your rewards are here. They will not stop coming. Your manifestations are here. Your time to receive is now. SURRENDER. Everything you desire wants you MORE and everything you wished for ten years ago didn't forget about the wish you made upon a star. It was blocked from you. Shake off the negative beliefs and have no insistence that it needs to happen your way. It's not going to happen from our limited perspective. Take your limits off God. The blocks are being removed and you are moving into the higher timelines of New Earth forever because you raised your frequency enough and chose love.

The people from your past who stayed stuck in their old ways are on the old timelines and they will not be able to touch you. You'll be in a new area code with your fairytale life. You carefully cultivated your peace within and now you are becoming a master at being unbothered. Love EVERYONE. But remember to love the difficult ones from afar who don't know any better. You are unfuckwithable now.

Your future looks tranquil, abundant and unbothered. Remain unbothered by the people whose demons control them. Just think to yourself, "Oh, I see you're attacking me, I don't accept that gift you're trying to give me but thank you. You can have that back. That is not mine, that darkness has no power over me. I won't give this power over me. I'll take my power back. I don't agree to be affected by you. I choose peace and forgiveness. I choose a reality of heaven, not hell." You're either in heaven or you're in hell, there's no in-between. -Yeshua They will be forced to take back their own negative energy and feel it.

Congratulations for persevering through the dark, all the dark nights of the soul, all the traumatic lessons, all the endless challenges you went through to rise and reach your highest timeline. You did it, and no one else did it for you. NO ONE. Give yourself a big hug, and a pat on the back. I am so proud of you, God is so proud of you and the Entire Universe is applauding you, watching you in awe, thank you so much for never giving up and never letting the world change your beautiful heart. You will need that beautiful heart to manifest many more great changes and the highest good for all beings.

So, keep going and relax, you don't have to work so hard anymore. Let go and ignore anything that's not what you prefer. Anticipate miracles and peace. Just let everything that's YOURS come to you now without any expectations of how it should look and follow your highest excitement every moment.

[orbmanson7]

I can't seem to go five minutes without thinking about more Logan angst today, so have this, too. It's an old thought that I've mentioned for years but never really posted here on tumblr.

Thomas' immediate reaction to Logan's appearance in Accepting Anxiety (Part 1) is to say "Ah, Logan's here, so I probably did something wrong." Logan then appears genuinely surprised and even somewhat distressed to hear Thomas say this, dismissing it as untrue before continuing to address his concern with Thomas' behavior.

The implication here, though, is that Thomas doesn't care about what he's saying but may commonly think this, even if only subconsciously, due to Logan's role in the series.

Thomas had become very accustomed to Logan only showing up to give exposition, provide knowledge and resources to better understand and discuss a topic, and to ultimately assist in resolving conflicts and issues Thomas has had. It makes sense that, through all that, Thomas may have inadvertently made a correlation of "I did something wrong" with Logan's arrival.

This is not necessarily something uncommon, both in real life and in media. Take, for instance, the myth of the Mothman. Some believe multiple sightings of the cryptid was a warning sign to an upcoming danger, based on a single instance in which several sightings of the Mothman occurred in and around Point Pleasant in a short period of time before a tragic bridge collapse that took many lives. There is nothing to suggest the cryptid had anything to do with the situation, but people were inclined to believe it merely due to the creature's appearance leading up to the disaster.

In Logan's case, even all the way back in Accepting Anxiety (Part 1), Logan was already being seen as his role of Thomas' logic and reasoning, not as Logan, a nerdy teacher character. He represents Logic, and logic dictates knowledge and advice, creates schedules and routines for Thomas' benefit, and only really exists to provide what is needed. Logan, on the other hand, is a big nerd who likes learning new vocabulary, indulging in his interests of space and watching Doctor Who, and reading mystery and sci-fi novels. He likes puzzles and trivia and Crofters and feeling like he's been useful and helped Thomas to the best of his ability.

Take another example, as it is not unreasonable for someone in the fictional version of Queens, NY to see Spiderman as a sign that crime is happening. While the hero's goal is to help fight that crime and serve justice, it is not as though merely seeing Spiderman means there is trouble afoot. But because people often only see or hear of the hero in regards to his role as the city's protector, they are more likely to see Spiderman for what he does rather than who he is.

If Peter Parker (or any other variation of Spiderman) were to walk around town, people wouldn't immediately associate his presence with danger or crime, but they might if he was still dressed as Spiderman. And that, right there, is the center of the issue - recognizing someone more for their role, but not as a person.

But Logan isn't the one who the other sides or Thomas seem to ever appreciate or want around. What they need is Logic, and what they don't want is Logan.

Virgil said it himself in Learning New Things About Ourselves with "No matter what we do, logic always has a part to play, Logan." While meant to be a positive message in context, indicating there are many different ways to address a problem, there is a negative connotation to this message, as well. The others' failure to consider Logan's difficulty in understanding their methodology only resulted in Logan believing his methods were ineffective and wrong. Being told that "logic has a part to play" indicates to him that they need Logic, but they didn't say they needed Logan (even though they spent a whole song stating that they needed all the other sides, specifically).

While some of the others also struggle with their identity separate from their role in the series, they often seek out the other sides for comfort and help with this issue. They are met with empathy, efforts to understand, and the assistance they need. Unfortunately for Logan, this doesn't happen for him, both due to what he understands for his role (he is meant to provide, not to receive) and his unwillingness to reach out to the others and break away from his role (especially as time goes on, as we've seen). Logan does not reach out and does not challenge the others' perceptions of him, and this results in his identity being taken up more and more by his role.

At this point in the series, it's a wonder he's involved at all except to provide exposition when asked. No matter all the times he's been dismissed or silenced, he adapts and finds new ways to benefit Thomas and fulfill his role while staying out of the way as much as possible. But, at some point, he's either going to adapt to something harmful (either to himself or Thomas) or he's going to refuse to keep adapting and stand up against his unfair treatment, challenging Thomas and the other sides' perceptions of him and the role he serves.

I hope it turns out okay, at least.