#but eventually i realized whether it’s a deliberate choice or not there’s something really interesting in the fact that like.

[joshuaalbert]

kissing the person who wrote this article on the mouth so sweetly

[janetbrown711]

Princess Angelina II was never fond of being told what to do.

Ever since she was a little girl, she loved being defiant. However, her parents were strict and had their ways of forcing her to do things anyway, so she adapted. If her parents wanted her to study? Fine, then she would read every book in the library and become far more intelligent than most of her teachers and would “smart ass” them constantly. Of course, her parents disapproved, but Angelina knew they technically couldn’t punish her this way, as she was doing what they asked after all. Still, she was aware that she was treading on thin ice, but she continued anyway, as it felt like the only thing keeping her sane. 

It was this mentality she carried with her during her least favorite activity of all: 

Meeting Suitors. 

The moment Angelina turned 16, her mother began arranging meeting after meeting with different princes and noblemen, all of which she hated. They were always so prideful and stuffy, they never had a sense of joy or humor in them. So, as was natural for her, she never refused to see them, but while they talked she’d always attack their pride and make sure they never wanted to see her again. She had hoped her actions would’ve given her a reputation as an “ineligible princess” but alas, rumors of her beauty and singing kept them coming. 

And so today Angelina found herself preparing yet again to meet with another boring suitor, this time a prince who was soon coming of age and was to rule the neighboring kingdom fo Ticktockia. Angelina spent several weeks reading up on the history of the country, as well as learning their customs, and knew she was ready by the time he arrived. 

“I don’t want you to play any funny games this time, Angelina. Ticktockia is a very important ally, and I don’t want you embarrassing my good name,” her mother, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca I, was quick to remind her right before the doors of the throne room were to open. Angelina wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t have the energy or the time, as the doors were opened, and the prince entered. 

The prince of Ticktockia was a human, which she had expected. He was a particularly... interesting piece of work. He was growing a mustache, but he was very bad at it, and so it looked wispy and gross. his fashion sense was something else entirely, and he wore a giant clock on his chest, which Angelina recalled as the symbol of Ticktockia (as it was the meaning behind their name). 

“Hello,” He greeted her, but didn’t bow. Angelina rolled her eyes internally and curtsied. 

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” She said. He only nodded in response. 

This was gonna be fun.

“Well, off you two go then,” Angelina the First waved the pair off, and Salazar held his arm out and Angelina took it, and they went off into the halls of the castle. 

“So... Prince... Salad bar is it?” Angelina asked. 

“Salazar,” He corrected, snappy. Angelina smirked. 

“Right, right, right, my apologies,” She said. “So... where are you from again?”

“Ticktockia, one of Warnerstock’s most important allies..? Surely you’ve heard of us,” He said, annoyed. 

“Not really, no,” She shrugged, removing her arm from his. 

“Oh please, we’ve made all of your clocks,” He pointed out. 

“Oh, those old things? They break every other week, we honestly should replace them all,” She lamented, internally pleased when she saw his anger rise and saw him desperately try to hide it. 

“Well then,” he huffed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t blame you, you are just a woman after all. I shouldn’t expect you to know the history of such an important country.” 

Oh he did not. 

“I can assure you Salazar, I know more of Ticktockia’s history than you do,” she warned. He smirked. 

“Sure you do,” He said. 

“Who was the 17th king?” She quizzed. Salazar paused to think. 

“King... Edmund?” He asked. Angelina shook her head. 

“King Raymond the Beloved. He helped create an era of peace in the land and helped create new trade routes for kingdoms all across the lands,” Angelina said. 

“Everyone knows King Raymond. I was simply... pretending not to know,” He so obviously lied. 

“Alright... who was the 20th king?” She asked. Salazar thought once more, stroking his gross wispy mustache. 

“Easy, King Walter,” He lifted his chin in the air. 

“Wrong. It’s your father, King Jonathan,” She said with a condescending smile. Salazar glared at her. 

“Well I never,” He huffed and crossed his arms. 

“Never what? Studied anything in your life? Because that’s something I’d believe. I mean, come on, who doesn’t know their own father?” She snorted. Salazar looked at her with disgust. 

“You are very unladylike,” He said. 

“It’s an art,” She replied.  

“Mhm,” He mumbled, continuing their walk through the castle once more. 

“So.. tell me... what about your kingdom do you know?” She asked. 

“We’re the number one supplier of clocks in the world,” He stated. 

“Right, but other kingdoms are coming up close behind, so I’d keep a close eye on that if I were you,” Angelina pointed out. 

“Ridiculous,” He scoffed. 

“Oh, but it really isn’t. Your methods are old and outdated and so people from the outside have worked on improving your old designs and they’re only becoming better and better,” Angelina said nonchalantly. Salazar’s eye twitched. 

“You know, this really isn’t the way you should talk to your betrothed,” He snarled. 

“Betrothed? What on earth makes you think we’re betrothed?” Angelina jumped in surprise. 

“I was invited here, no?” He eyed her up and down. “I was promised a bride, and seeing as you’re the prettiest one around and I was invited, we’re betrothed,” he said, placing a hand on her waist, to which she then jumped back and away. 

“Hate to break it to you, dimwit, but that’s not how this works.” She outright glared at him. 

“Oh please, there’s no sense in fighting it,” He rolled his eyes. “I want you, and so you’re going to be mine. Nobody says no to me.”

“Oh I’m sure they do, you probably just ignore it or are too much of a moron to see it,” She spat. 

“I am not a moron.” He raised his voice, but Angelina wasn’t frightened. 

“Sure. And my name isn’t actually Angelina,” She rolled her eyes. “Get real, you know almost nothing about your own kingdom’s history, and I’m sure if I wanted to bore myself further I’d discover you know nothing of Warnerstock, and it’s very apparent you haven’t a single clue of manners or decency in front of a princess.” 

“I. Am. Not. A. Moron,” He clenched his fist. 

“Oh please! If I were to look up the word ‘moron’ in the dictionary, it would have a picture of you. I mean- assuming you’re betrothed to me just because my mother invited you here? My mother may hate my guts, but she’d never do that,” Angelina smirked.

“I can have anything I want, just watch me,” He growled, stepping towards her, and Angelina realized just how much taller he was than her. 

“You’re nothing more than an arrogant, stupid, brainless, spoiled baby that hasn’t heard ‘no’ nearly enough in his life,” She defied him, and he raised his hand and struck her across the face so hard, she fell to the floor with a loud thud. 

Angelina laid on the ground a moment, realizing what just happened, feeling the sting and burn in her cheek. Slowly, she sat herself up. 

“You hit me,” She looked up at him. He dusted off his hand. 

“You’re truly a disgusting creature, Angelina.” he scowled. “I showed you nothing but decency, and you lash out like the vicious animal you are.”

Not even wanting to dignify his bullshit, she instead called for the royal guards. Salazar’s eyes widened as four guards came into the room from their posts, and upon seeing their princess on the floor with a newfound bruise and the neighbor prince red in the face with anger, they were quick to separate the two. 

“I won’t forget about this Angelina. I’ll be back, and I’ll make sure to give you hell once I’m in charge,” He declared for all to hear as he was escorted out. Angelina shuddered as she was helped up by one of the guards. 

“You alright, Princess?” He asked. 

“I’m fine,” She said, not wanting to get into it. 

Despite the stinging in her cheek, she had done what she had to. 

“Just take me to my mother, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear about this,” Angelina sighed. The guards nodded and she was escorted to her mother’s private study. She knocked on it once before entering. 

“Angelina, why am I not surprised?” Her mother didn’t look up from her paperwork, shaking her head. “What happened?”

“He had to leave early,” Angelina said. 

“He just barely arrived,” The queen remarked, before looking up at her daughter’s face and frowning. 

“Angelina, what did I tell you? I told you you had to be on your best behavior and you deliberately disobeyed me,” She set down her work. 

“Well gee, I’m sorry alright?” She rolled her eyes. 

“You and I both know that isn’t true. Honestly Angelina, why do you feel the need to sully the kingdom’s good name like this?” Angelina the First rubbed her forehead and stood. 

“Because it’s dumb. All of this is. The suitors, the manners, It’s just so dumb,” She complained. 

“Angelina, I’m not having this conversation again,” The queen stated. “These rules and rituals are tradition. You don’t have a choice. One day you will marry a suitor I picked out for you, whether it makes you happy or not.”

“I’d sooner die,” Angelina glared. 

“If you had any sense in you, you’d learn to bite your tongue, Angelina. Or do you want to be hit a second time today?” The queen raised her hand with her wedding ring on it and Angelina flinched. The queen smirked a little. 

“That’s what I thought,” She said, before sighing and returning to her paperwork. 

“We’ll have to reschedule the other suitors I had planned to visit this month until that bruise heals. We can’t have rumors spread,” She said, writing something down. If she had been feeling better, Angelina would’ve smiled. Her mother went silent a long moment, the only noise being the scratch of her quill touching the paper. Eventually her mother looked up at her, with an expression that looked like a mix of disgust, tiredness, and annoyance. 

“You can go now,” She said. Angelina curtsied for her mother, and then left.

For a while, Angelina found herself wandering the halls of the castle as she rubbed her bruise lightly. She knew she had done what she had to, but she still felt dazed. Perhaps it was from hitting her head, but she felt... odd. Light headed was the best term she could think to describe it. 

It wasn’t too long before Angelina noticed that she had wandered into the garden. That was good. The flowers and fountains did a lot to clear her mind on days like these. Eventually, she made her way to the middle, and sat down on the bench and watched fountain and birds that stopped to bathe in it. She couldn’t be sure of what she was feeling, but whatever it was, it was a lot.  

After awhile of just sitting there, a familiar voice called out, and Angelina looked up and felt herself revive a little. 

“Angelina! There you are,” William smiled and ran to sit down next to her. 

“Hi,” She smiled and scooted over so there was room. 

“How was your- oh my... what happened?” William gasped, referring to the bruise. 

“O-oh it was nothing, really,” Angelina brushed it off. 

“You’re hurt Lena,” He frowned with concern. Angelina took in a deep breath and sighed. 

“A suitor visited today- Prince Salazar of Ticktockia. I pushed things a little too far this time and well... he got pretty mad. And now my mother is pissed that I managed to make one of our strongest allies hate my guts,” Angelina chuckled sadly. 

“Lena... I’m so sorry. That’s terrible,” William said, his eyes watering. Angelina didn’t know how to respond. 

“William- I’m okay. Really. I’m used to it,” She tried to laugh it off. 

“You’re used to it?” His concern only grew and Angelina bit her words. 

“I-i mean...” She sighed. “You know my mother by now. I’m used to this.”

“Lena, I’m so sorry. Nobody should ever, ever hit you, especially your own mother,” William said. 

“Thank you William,” She smiled tiredly at him. 

“Lena, I swear to you, so long as I live, I’ll never let anyone hurt you like this ever again,” He held her hand and kneeled on the ground. 

“W-william, I-i don’t know what to say,” She sniffled, and realized her own eyes were starting to fill with tears. Quickly, she wiped them away. William then stood and pulled her into a tight and loving embrace. At first, Angelina was hesitant, but she chose to embrace it, and she hugged him back, and found herself quickly sobbing into his shoulder. 

“It’s okay Lena, I’m here. It’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore,” he promised, and Angelina believed him. She felt safe in his arms, and never ever wanted to let go. She wanted to stay with him forever, safe and happy and secure. She knew he’d never hurt her, ever. 

She loved him. 

Princess Angelina the Second was in love with William. 

She smiled a little and embraced him even more. 

No matter what her mother tried to do or who she tried to set her up with, Angelina knew she was in love with William, and nothing was ever going to change that. 

[miss-noo-na]

And Then There Were Three (Chapter 6)

Title: And Then There Were Three

Rating: Mature.

Summary: Things have become complicated

Note: See masterlist for parts 1-5! You wanted to laugh, to tell Changkyun to stop messing around and be serious, but the look on his face told you he wasn’t joking and he was very much serious.

“Listen, this is crazy,” You attempted to get your bearings on all the information you had just received. You sat up, gathering some of the blankets to pull over your front, unable to have this conversation so exposed.

“You’re not in love with me, and neither is Jooheon. I think we’re all just in over our heads and maybe we should just relax.” You explained diligently and you saw Changkyun smirking from where he lay. Then he actually let out a chuckle.

“Does that scare you?” He asked, which made your brow furrow.

“What? Scare me?” You replied, then scoffed like it was ridiculous.

“The idea that we could both be in love with you, that’s terrifying to you, isn’t it?” Now he sat up too, both facing each other.

“Of course not, I just don’t think it’s true. These feelings never came up before, why would they now?”

“Oh come on,” He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Jooheon has definitely been making puppy eyes at you since the very beginning, we all knew he was going to get there eventually. And you and I…..well that’s more complicated.”

It was, you couldn’t deny that. It had always been more than sex, but you wouldn’t have called it love, either. Honestly, you were basing that off what you knew of love and not what you had experienced of it. The word love made you think of chaste things, soft moments and gradually developing romantic feelings. Nothing you did with Changkyun felt like that.

“I’ve never been jealous in my life.” He spoke then, “So when I had those feelings I really had to think about them.”

“And what did you conclude?”

“It's not like anything I’ve ever felt for someone before, that’s why it's so confusing. All I know is that I want to be around you. I want to be with you, and I want you to be with me.”

His words came calm and collected, deliberate in their intention, and that made them all the more striking and real. He wasn’t one for being vulnerable like this, and it gave you that feeling. The one that swirled through your stomach and made your cheeks tingle.

Jooheon had given you that feeling, too, with his gentle touches and reserved smiles. You realized what danger you were in, not wanting to give either one of them up but not seeing a way you could have it all. It was fine when it was physical, but now felt somehow unfair. How could there be enough of you? You still didn’t even believe just one of them could feel that way, much less both.

“I have a lot to think about.” You said quietly, and Changkyun nodded, solemn but understanding.

He said no one would be home for a while, and opened up an offer for you to stay longer, but you declined, and saw the trace of disappointment in his eyes. It was weird to see him act like this. Just a day ago you were questioning whether or not he saw you as more than just an object, now he was professing things like love. Things had turned around so quickly you were barely able to keep up.

You purposely kept your distance after that, needing time to sort things out. You hadn’t told Jooheon anything other than feeling like you needed time to yourself, and he respected that even if there seemed to be some concern in his response. You didn’t want to put him on the spot again, especially since this news of his supposed feelings came from a third party. Sometimes if you caught him laughing or saying something cute you wanted to reach out and touch him, but shook the feeling off.

Changkyun checked on you occasionally through texts, but stayed away from you in person except for when he had no choice. This was the most professional he had ever been and something about it felt wrong. You missed his teasing, his little pokes and prods throughout the day, things he did to keep you on your toes and “remind you who you belonged to”, as he liked to joke. Just the thought of it sent a shiver through you.

The fact that you yearned for them both in equal doses only complicated things further. Sometimes you thought it would be better to forget the whole thing, quit your job and move on, putting this little experimental excursion behind you as an interesting part of your younger days. Surely if you backed out now, it wouldn’t feel so bad?

But the longer you kept yourself separate from them, the more the want grew.

Then a text came through one afternoon, not from Changkyun but Jooheon.

“I know you need some time,” It started, then continued, “but I’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay?”

Always so sweet and careful.

You were worried, though. You didn’t know what he wanted to say, and you still hadn’t figured out what you wanted to say.

You agreed, and since he said it would be brief you chose a café that was small and quiet, hidden away from potential prying eyes.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you.” He said, looking down into a cup of black coffee.

“It’s fine,” You forced a smile. “What’s up?”

“I know you said you needed some time alone and I’m sorry I interrupted that-”

“It’s fine.” You repeated, and he nodded before he continued speaking.

“I just don’t think it’s really necessary. I know you’re probably spending time with Changkyun still and I just wanted to tell you it’s okay.”

You opened your mouth to correct him, but closed it when you saw he wasn’t done speaking.

“You can tell me you don’t want to see me anymore, it’s fine, there’s no reason to drag this out.” He forced his own smile, it was heavy and not very convincing. His eyes darted away quickly.

“Jooheon,” You sighed before you continued. “I haven’t been seeing Changkyun, either.”

His head perked up, surprise all across his face. “You haven’t?”

“No, I haven’t been around either one of you.”

“Oh, well,” He fumbled for a moment, trying to re-work his thoughts.

“In that case, if you’re trying to decide where we should go from here, I just wanted to tell you it’s alright if you don’t choose me.”

Choose me. He looked like he regretted saying it like that. It was, more or less, his own subtle way of confessing.

“To be honest, I’m a bit confused right now.” You spoke then, and he listened intently.

“I don’t really know who feels what about who,” You continued with a laugh, and you saw something tug at his mouth, too.

“From the beginning, I knew you and Changkyun had something...different.” He cleared his throat to say, and you tried to suppress a grin.

“And I thought I was just tagging along, but then you came over that day and-...well, you know.” He trailed off and you saw his cheeks flush a bit. It was funny to think of him as shy or embarrassed by it, especially after all the things he had said and done to you behind closed doors. You had to will yourself to not get distracted by the memories.

“I was hoping you might,” He stopped himself, looking ahead at you with a sober expression.

You tilted your head to the side, indicating that he could go on, but he swallowed hard and seemed to get nervous. You were getting impatient with him, you wanted to know if what Changkyun said was true.

“You were hoping I might have romantic feelings for you?” You stated as plainly as possible, and now he was fully red from neck to ears, shifting uncomfortably and letting out a timid chuckle.

“Yeah.” He almost whispered, and you felt your stomach drop. What might have otherwise been a very sweet confession instead gave you a sense of dread. Now you knew for sure they both felt this way about you, even if you were still skeptical about Changkyun.

But that wasn’t the question right now. The question was about what you felt, and you could deny it all day but you knew it was true from the start. The reason you even felt comfortable inviting him in to your tryst was because he was loving, kind, playful, and exactly the sort of person who made you feel cared for. These were things that shouldn’t matter in a sexual exploit, but were the things you most looked forward to when he was around.

“I do.” The words slipped out before you were ready, but once it was out there you couldn’t go back. It dawned on him slowly and the way his face lit up made your heart ache.

“But, I still need time. I have a lot of things to sort out.”

He nodded, serious once more. “Of course.”

You mumbled through some chit-chat before deciding to leave, standing and glancing around to make sure no one could see. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek, and watched his lips curl and his eyes crease into an adorable smile.

You left feeling relief in some areas and worse in others, and you knew you needed to talk to Changkyun again.

You gave it a couple more days before you built up the nerve to ask him, and he gave you a time he would be alone for you to swing by. You told yourself that no matter what happened, you wouldn’t let him charm you into bed again, as he was one to do.

When he invited you in that evening, there was a distance about it. He wasn’t cold, like before, but he definitely wasn’t touching you or being overly friendly, either. He offered you something to drink, which you turned down, and then you made your way over to the couch. There was silence for a long while, and you could tell he was letting you lead. Since he wasn’t one for small talk, you went straight into your first thought.

“There’s a blockage.” You started and he peered up at you with a confused furrow.

“Like, there’s this wall I have with you. I can be so vulnerable and open when we’re having sex but then its like everything shuts down afterward.”

“Oh?” He seemed genuinely intrigued by this revelation.

“I figured out that's why I had so much trouble believing you would be in love with me. Because if you are, you’ve never really shown it.”

This seemed to surprise him. “And here I thought I was being totally transparent.” He laughed, but when he looked away there was a sense of dejection.

“We agreed that there’s always been something more,” You reiterated from your last conversation, “But it feels like it’s just beyond the surface, like I can’t quite reach it.”

“So what, you want me to get all mushy like Jooheon does?” He asked, framed as a joke but you could detect the edge of sarcasm in his tone that told you it actually bothered him, maybe even made him angry.

“I didn’t say that.” You shook your head. “But you think there would be something, anything, that would show me I’m more than an object to you.”

He seemed to wince at your words and you could tell this was difficult for him, but you didn’t have any idea how to help him.

“Yesterday, when you said you wanted to be with me?” You started, leaning in so you could be closer to him. “I felt that, when you were just being honest with me.”

“I’m always honest with you,” He met your eyes, “It just takes some time.”

“Don’t I know it,” You laughed, recalling his little pity party when he found you with Jooheon.

“It doesn’t always have to be words, you know.” You reached out and picked up his arm by his wrist, and it hung limp and heavy in your grasp as he watched. “If you’re not good with those, there are other ways.”

You don’t know why you were so nervous, considering the other ways this man had touched you, but you trembled a little as you brought his hand to your face and nuzzled into his palm before placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles, and you smiled when you felt him relax, a small sigh leaving his lips.

He opened his hand and cupped your face, and you felt your stomach do a somersault when he stroked his thumb over your cheek. It was the softest he had ever caressed you and it spoke volumes.

“See?” You said quietly, looking up at him

He looked content for a moment, but you watched in real time as his face slowly fell back into his somber expression, and his hand fell away from you.

“I can’t love you like he does.” He spoke, and it felt like a sharp crack through the tenderness, stinging you in the process.

“Even if it’s the same feelings, you deserve someone who knows how to do it right.”

He didn’t know it, but these moments were when his veneer slipped off and you really saw him, and you liked what you saw.

You wanted to tell him there was no right way, and whatever way he felt to do it was just fine. But you still didn’t know where you stood, and speaking to them both had only made things harder on you. All you had done is confirm that they did care about you, and you cared about them, too.

[thistangledbrain]

Day 19 & 20!

Day 19 - “I hate it when...”

As you’ve gleaned from prior posts, I hate it when you forget autism is a developmental disorder and not an intellectual one. We are so. Fucking. Tired. Of being treated as lesser, or like we don’t understand what you’re saying to us.

Outside of the reactions to others’ behavior, though, I have some personal “I hate it when”...I’ve let you into my mind and told you what I appreciate about how my brain works, but there are things I don’t like, for sure.

I hate that personal stressor things trigger a toddler-like need to SHUT DOWN. Like writing this blog, for example...the vulnerability I feel usually leads to a need to go to sleep for a long time, once I’m finished. Or after a long day socializing. I don’t want to talk to anyone, I don’t want to engage my brain anymore, I just need to shut all systems down and sleep. Especially if there’s been a meltdown (meltdown—->shutdown)...and oh boy do I hate meltdowns. They’re really rare, thank dog.

I hate that my executive function is an absolute bag of ass. This is probably the biggest thing I would change. It got infinitely worse when my disability got bad (EDS), for some reason. And it drives me up the damn wall.

I hate my low function days/moments. It’s like my brain just won’t kick into gear, or the gears and wheels are rusty and grinding, & it’s rather anxiety inducing. I usually “hide” on my low days, sometimes in my darkened bedroom, and watch favorite shows or movies, or get lost in a good book - if I can. On low days I find myself re-reading crap constantly because it’s not making any sense, so I’ll even avoid complicated recipes...I have no idea why these days/moments happen, but boy do they piss me off/make me anxious (that’s kind of the same thing for me. My anxiety nearly always manifests as anger). On my low days, you’ll see (if you were a fly on the wall, because I suppress this even around my own family), me walking in tight, anxious figure 8’s and flapping my hands in a distressed way, as I anxiously try to mentally kick my brain into gear. (It doesn’t work, but it IS a little soothing. And my dogs are SO sweet...they gather around me tightly and just seem to know I need them.)

🤷🏻‍♀️ There’s probably more I could expound on that I don’t like, but writing this one has been pretty distasteful. I try not to dwell on things I hate anymore, so I’ve put this entry down multiple times and come back to it when I’m in a decent frame of mind. I think I’m tired of talking about it now, so I’m gonna just stop talking.....

Which is a good segue into Day 20 -

————————————-

“Communication”

Ahh communication. This entry will be long, because I have a lot to communicate LOL....

Personally, I write far more coherently and eloquently than I speak. My brain goes too fast...I often trip over words; my brain’s three steps ahead of what’s coming out of my mouth and I get scrambled sometimes. I can also take the time to think about what I want to say/HOW I want to say it. Like many autistics, I’m a blurter. LOL...I am constantly trying to remind myself, just because I think it, doesn’t mean I have to say it. This gets a LOT of us in trouble...one of my most memorable examples is, I *loudly* blurted “that’s BULLSHIT!!” in a church one time. (I was speaking on how my devout Methodist grandmother, who regularly takes communion at her church, was not permitted to receive communion in a Catholic church, merely because she isn’t Catholic, despite the fact that this woman is all about some Jesus & a devoted churchgoer - not just on Easter and Christmas.) In my defense, it WAS (IS) bullshit. I just didn’t need to practically yell that in church. As you can imagine, it was like a needle scratching across a record & everyone turned to stare. (My poor husband rescued me.) 🤦🏻‍♀️ Sigh. It’s a good idea to keep me out of most church services.

I am rather famous (infamous?) for calling bullshit straight to someone’s face, BLUNTLY. It’s out of my mouth before my brain’s “tact gatekeeper” I’ve spent over a decade trying to train is even half awake at his post (it’s a him because my husband is the one who taught me how to use tact in the first place. And it’s a him because said “gatekeeper” is lazy and falls asleep on the job all the time 😆). Have you ever just blurted your honest thoughts and heard shocked gasps or someone just busts out laughing? Yeah. That happens to me regularly. Or uncomfortable chuckles and someone will blink a few times and say, “oohhhkay, well, you could said that a different way.” (My old response to that was, I’m not responsible for what your reaction is to what I say...you’re in charge of your own feelings. I *understand* now how irresponsible and unfeeling that is, and I try to keep that in the front of my mind, even when I’m frustrated and nearly burning up with the desire to speak my thoughts in their raw form, but this is routinely an area I struggle to adapt to...and I am very sorry when I hurt someone I care about.)

On the other side of this same coin though, this is a trait my friends respect deeply, because I’m not cruel hearted or anything. You always know where you stand with me, and I’m the last person to try and lie to you. I SUUUUUCK at lying. And on the rare times when I do, I usually end up eventually telling on myself (this drove my older stepsister NUTS when we were kids, because she liked to do lots of sneaky things, and I don’t have an inherently sneaky nature LOL...so “DO NOT tell momma” was a *serious* risk for her, if she let me tag along 😂). Lying to someone just feels disgusting. Oily. Shameful. I hate lying. Plus, my short term memory is a grabasstic bag of CRAP, so there’s a good chance I won’t remember the lie and get caught anyway. 🤷🏻‍♀️ My boys also suck at lying or hiding stuff, and generally prefer not to...but I also give them a safe forum to be honest. (I’m sure there’s LOTS of crap I don’t know, but you’d be surprised how much they DO tell me.)

Another thing with me personally is that I go mute sometimes. I’m not being deliberately obstinate. I’m not REFUSING to speak in those moments...sometimes I literally can’t, and the effort of doing so will make me gag, or even projectile vomit. Sounds very dramatic, doesn’t it? It is. (And it annoys the SHIT out of me.) There’s not a fucking thing i can do about it. The movement of my tongue in my mouth will literally begin to trigger my gag reflex, and if I try to power through it, I’m rewarded with my lunch returning to the surface anyway, regardless of my desires, and sometimes rather unexpectedly & violently. USUALLY this happens when I’m uber stressed, but sometimes it seems kind of out of the blue & catches even me off guard. If this happens but I still have something to say, I start texting instead, and explain. Most people - especially my hubby - are very kind when this happens. (I don’t want your pity, I just want you to switch to written communication for a minute until I can figuratively kick the fuck out of the engine in my “speaking center” and get it to work again.) Other times, I will literally get tired of talking. Like my mouth and tongue - and somehow, the “word forming” part of my brain feels physically exhausted (weird, I know, but I also spend the vast majority of my life silent - I am home alone all day, hate talking on the phone, and simply don’t speak much, by choice. So maybe it is actual “mouth fatigue” 😂😂😂 - I’ve stopped eating before because I just got tired of chewing, too, even though I’m still somewhat hungry. 🙄) I am usually *perfectly* happy to keep listening! And I’ll stay engaged in the conversation usually. I am just...done audibly talking. I’ll literally say “my mouth is tired of making the sounds now, but please keep going”...but I think my husband is the only one who doesn’t find this unusual, and rolls with it. It usually happens after a long, animated conversation...instead of winding down, though, it just..stops. If I try to keep going, cue the gagging. I can stay engaged in the conversation if you let me start writing/typing instead of speaking, for my responses. So that’s a “fun” little trait of mine that many neurotypicals find unsettling. Please don’t take it personally. My mouth just doesn’t want to make the words anymore - and I’m probably mostly done adding what I needed to add to the conversation anyway. I’m a great listener when this happens, though. 😆

Communication is a really interesting thing with all of us, because it’s a struggle on one level or another. I will tell you, it’s a frequent topic in my groups. “WHY CAN’T NEUROTYPICALS JUST SAY WHAT THE FUCK THEY MEAN?!?! 😩😩😩” I’m dead serious - you might think, because we’re sensitive (generally), we can’t “handle” it? You’d be so very wrong. What we can’t handle is when you dance around a subject or we have to try and translate what you just said to us (which most of us are not that good at). Just fucking say it! Nine times out of ten, you’ll just get a look of dawning realization and a “oh, shit, okay” response. We can handle it. Just. Say. It. We’ll respect you a lot more in the morning, LOL 😆

I think every autistic has some sort of beef with neurotypicals when it comes to communication (as I’m sure you have yours with us, obviously).

You guys operate under some weird ass rules that we simply don’t understand - especially if you don’t tell us those rules & just expect us to know. Like, if my husband hadn’t patiently taken years to show/teach me how the way I said certain things were hurtful, I would still be in the “yeah she’s cool but she’s kind of an asshole” territory. (I still struggle to grasp this, or at least it still frustrates me....truth is truth, whether it’s an ironclad general fact or your own personal truth - and yes sometimes the truth hurts, but like...I don’t pin any responsibly for that on the truth teller, if that makes sense?)

Working in rescue also helped hone my ability to speak “neurotypically” to others - I work with a LOT of women, and boy do a lot of them NOT appreciate when you bluntly tell them what you think. Men on the other hand....

I know *lots* of autistic women who prefer friendships with men, largely centering around this communication thing. We hurt men’s feelings a little less regularly than other women’s. I know I was like that, until I got a little more used to how I have to modify my communication with most women (but that annoys me, I’m gonna be honest - it annoys my Autie friends, too). The only time I am as starkly blunt as I used to be, is when speaking to my female Autie friends (because they can handle it), or most of the dudes I’m friends with. But if my message is getting “lost in the sauce” and you’re not getting my point, I usually give a frustrated sigh, WARN you that I’m about to tell you flatly what I need to say, because we aren’t getting anywhere, and just say it.

Yes I am the friend who, when you gush on and on about your new back yard bred puppy, talking all about how you’re gonna breed him when he grows up, is gonna flatly say “he’s not breeding quality”, if they’re not. Then I’m gonna ask you why you want to do such a thing, given that you’re aware of the massive load of rescue dogs (PARTICULARLY Great Danes and Cane Corsos) - and probably beat your argument down every step of the way. That doesn’t always go badly though - one of my closest friends was considering breeding their dog, and while it was a beautiful dog, it was not one that should reproduce (from an “improve the breed” perspective). We barely knew each other, but I gained a reputation for being kind but starkly honest...and I knew what I was talking about...and now I have this person’s deep respect, and they have mine (because they listened and did the research I asked them to - and did not add to the breed population). So it’s not *always* a trainwreck, because the people who end up respecting how I communicate, usually end up VERY close friends. AND I WANT THAT IN RETURN, which is refreshing for a LOT of people. I want your dead honesty in return - PLEASE. It’s so much easier for me to process and accept. For example, my house is almost constantly in some sort of disarray. I have one friend who will come in and go, “girl. I almost can’t breathe in here - this clutter is too much”(and then she offers to help me tackle it!!).

Or, fairly recently, “oh my god those curtains are so horrible, I hope you’re getting rid of those when you redo this room.”

“But I MADE those curtains! I love that print!”

“Ugh. No. They’re terrible. Get rid of them.”

My feelings were not hurt in the LEAST (I of course had a flash of “you bitch, I was so excited to find that print and I MADE THOSE, ya jerk” 😂). At first I said, “well you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with my shitty curtains, because I like them” 😂, but then as I was redoing the room, I took them down...and it DID look a lot better, so I left them down 😂😂😂....

So I guess my point with all this is: every autie I know deeply wishes you’d just fucking spit it out. We WILL often miss or misinterpret the point if you “fluff” it too much (around my neck of the woods, we call it putting too much gild on the lily, though I’ve never understood that one. Idk if a “gilded lily” is/was ever a thing, why anyone would gild a lily in the first place...LOTS of us struggle with colloquialisms that don’t make literal sense. 😆 Recently a friend was baffled over “shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which fills up faster”, and fully half of the respondents to her post were people baffled by why anyone would shit in their hand - I and a couple others had to explain, and it just ended with them going “well that’s a fucking stupid saying anyway, and wishes aren’t things you can put in your hands, either” 😂😂😂...but I’m from the south, and these things are just part of our vocab. MOST of them are easy to grasp for me, like “nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs”, because I immediately picture it and can grasp the meaning. But others I don’t get - the gilded lily is one LOL)...

We are LITERAL AS FUCK. It’s why we ruin lots of jokes, too. My poor husband is the dad joke king - and I ruin fully 1/3 or more of his jokes by being too literal (which he also finds amusing, so that’s good). Sometimes we realize we’re ruining the joke but we don’t care, because it’s dumb, or we just .... can’t....HELP IT. 😩😂

Jeez, I could almost write all day about autistics and communication LOL!!

But to summarize (and not succinctly, sorry), I guess, for me and many many others...we are often blunt, direct, almost painfully honest, and very, very literal. Your unspoken rules of communication absolutely go over our heads, unless you - yannow - *communicate* and explain them. We’ll probably tell you those rules are stupid and exhausting, but we will TRY and stick to it as best we can. But see, we literally have to think about every single word that comes out of our mouths, because we communicate far more directly than you weird fuckers do. And it is literally actually exhausting. It’s not an easily natural thing for us to adapt to, your weird way of saying things but not saying what you really mean. You’re wasting a LOT of words there, sir, and we are now getting obsessively confused over why you would do such a thing. 😂 It’s also why I keep getting banned from Facebook. My recent one was because I said - in one of my Autie “safe” groups, where I should be able to just say what I mean - that I tend to punch or want to punch people who deliberately startle the shit out of me. We were talking about how stupid April Fool’s Day was, and how we hate pranks. Three of us got banned for 30 days for just...well. Facebook called it “incitement of violence”. 🙄🥺🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼

But I haven’t met - yet, maybe? - an autistic person who is cruel natured - not one of us gets any joy from being a bully type. WE feel everything on a higher level, so we kind of assume you do, too...you might think, “then why are you such an asshole?!”, but it’s simply that we - or every Autie I know, anyway - struggle to grasp how directly communicating your feelings is so fuckin hard or hurtful for y’all. I think anyone struggles to grasp something they themselves don’t experience. All you have to do is explain, though, and keep guiding us towards communicating in ways that we both find acceptable. I mean we’re champs at accepting all manner of different human - regardless of race, sexuality, and so on - but the communication is one area that frustrates the ever loving SHIT out of most of us, because it makes so little logical sense why anyone would say a bunch of useless words that muddy up their intent.

My closing advice? Help Your Pet Autie ™️ (this is absolutely a tongue in cheek term btw) understand how you’d like to be communicated with, and guide us. BE SPECIFIC for fucks sake - we suck at guessing what you might want, and it’s so frustrating that we’ll often just stop communicating at all. Instead of saying “it hurts me when you say this”, try saying “the WAY you said this hurt my feelings because of ____. Maybe you could put it like this instead” (or, “you know, you should really just keep shit like that to yourself”) and *give examples*. Don’t expect us to come up with different ways of saying shit, because we don’t understand what it is specifically you want, and it’s not very logical, therefore it’s not “natural” for us. Plus, everyone is different. I can’t talk to one of my sons the same way I can talk to the other, without certain negative reactions. Give us a chance to know your needs - we DO CARE!!! - but be CLEAR. I know in your world, tact is a big deal, but MOST of us will miss the fucking point if you’re too tactful (and when we misinterpret, we always err on the side of worst case scenario, and make the issue wayyyyy bigger than it should be. Being clear is soooo important).

And hey. Maybe it’ll help clear up some communication in other areas of your life. Being clear isn’t a license to be a fucking asshole; nobody’s giving you a license to unleash on everyone about how much you can’t stand humans...if WE hafta be quiet about that, so do you lmao...fair’s fair. 😆 But quit hedging and hinting and hoping we will pick up on the whatever your grievance is - because we won’t. We’ll just know you’re unhappy, and start panicking over guessing what we did wrong, and just shut down, because we have no idea.

Just. Fucking. Say it. 😘

[autumnblogs]

Day 13: Double Mobius Reacharound

https://homestuck.com/story/2073

Of all the characters in Homestuck, Sollux’s self-hatred is probably the most exaggerated, exacerbated no doubt by his role in the death of his girlfriend and his psychic brain. I like him, he’s an alright guy, and I wish I had more to say about him to be honest. I guess if there was one thing I was going to say about him, I think I said it already - Sollux serves as a mirror image of Dave, and Sollux’s decision to bow out early probably foreshadows the way that Dave will eventually decide that fighting is not for him.

More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/2082

How does Paradox Space know which angel to use? This is a bit of an odd moment. Maybe I’m missing the refrance, but I’ve never quite understood why Terezi reacts this way, with all of the additional periods. Sollux seems quizzical, but Terezi doesn’t react.

Also, this is the first in a serious of lines I’m going to be examining in relation to Aradia. Keep that on the back of your thinkpan.

https://homestuck.com/story/2085

Sollux and Aradia have a very sweet, tragic little relationship, and even though it doesn’t last into the longterm, I’ve always enjoyed these two together.

https://homestuck.com/story/2101

Whether retroactively, or intentionally, the sensual scantily clad fairies in Tavros’ room are a lot more noticeable on re-reads. Tavros has a pretty unassuming demeanor, and I’m not here to trash him pointlessly, but I think that Tavros has some pretty troubling patterns of behavior that can go unexamined because of the fact that he’s a victim. More on that as we go.

https://homestuck.com/story/2112

Far from a passing fancy, Tavros’ interest in animals does seem to be genuine. I wonder if he had a little farm with a bunch of these critters. We never get to see much of his other Fiduspawn if he has any.

https://homestuck.com/story/2114

Karkat and Tavros both do this, which I think is interesting because of the fact that they have opposite relationships with sleep and dreaming - Tavros spends most of his time in game asleep and dreaming of Prospit, Karkat has horrible insomnia.

https://homestuck.com/story/2122

Our very first conversation with Vriska has her tune in pretty much entirely to bully Tavros. The interesting thing is, while Vriska’s treatment of Tavros is pretty objectively bad, the way that she harasses him is actually pretty closely in line with the way that other trolls treat their friends, mutual aggression and nastiness. Vriska’s aggression isn’t addressed at someone who’s responding in kind though - Tavros is gentle where other trolls are vicious, deferential where other trolls are assertive. It’s this contrast that makes the shamefulness of Vriska’s behavior obvious to pretty much everyone but her.

https://homestuck.com/story/2123

Gamzee and Tavros are a ship tease that didn’t really end up going anywhere, but one of the things I think is interesting is the way Gamzee’s language goes from extremely lackadaisical and chill to kind of energetically violent around Tavros. Most of the time, Gamzee’s pretty laidback, but there’s a lot of language relating to murder in Gamzee’s enthusiasm here.

https://homestuck.com/story/2127

While Terezi’s Dragon doesn’t really have much of a choice in terms of its relative absence from her life, the sparse communication between the two and emotional distance is, I think, a parallel with Rose.

https://homestuck.com/story/2128

Because of the fact that we don’t get as much of a look into the Trolls’ home lives, it’s less easy to narrow down what their “finer” anxieties are, but it’s clear that they follow the same pattern of having their sleeping selves wake up as a result of internal synthesis of some kind - confronting their subconscious anxieties, and consciously accepting a part of their reality that they’ve been deliberately shutting out.

There’s probably a number of things that were instrumental to waking up for Terezi, not the least of which is accepting that Vriska is not the friend that Terezi thought she was - waking up to the fact that she was being used by an abuser in a co-dependent relationship. Coming to terms with her blindness could represent growth into a healthier sense of self, one where she finds validation internally and in healthy friend and family relationships. All that being said, her relationship with Vriska is still her most important relationship, and realizing that a problem exists is only the first step in solving it.

https://homestuck.com/story/2134

Time to stop being cagey about it, I guess. I have long viewed Aradia’s story as being one that is about surviving depression, which I say as a depression survivor. I relate heavily to the language that Homestuck uses to describe Aradia’s lack of passion and lack of enjoyment of things that she used to enjoy - especially the way that she lashes out destructively to try and alleviate her boredom and frustration.

https://homestuck.com/story/2137

On an unrelated note, Aradia has the Crosbytop. I believe I’m starting to remember how it got into her hands.

https://homestuck.com/story/2139

I’ve always thought that it’s interesting that Kanaya’s language directly mirrors Karkat’s from when he was harassing Jade, but their sentiment is almost precisely the opposite. She borrows another Karkatism almost immediately. So pretty much from the word go, we’re clued into the fact that Kanaya and Karkat have some relationship with each other that goes beyond the purely familiar, in the same way that Dave and John’s tendency to mirror each other’s language helps us to understand their friendship.

For a girl who doesn’t feel too many emotions, Aradia can be pretty sassy.

https://homestuck.com/story/2144

I have a friend who’s a bit of a Vriska kinnie (and feel like I’m pretty Vriska-esque myself), and one of the things that we both do that I’m seeing in Vriska here is fill dead air with chatter. I could be reading into it a little, but I think it should be a clue that Vriska is an intensely anxious kind of character.

https://homestuck.com/story/2145

In a parallel to Sollux’s introduction, we can’t immediately be Vriska. We couldn’t be Sollux because he was too busy stewing in his own self-criticism. There’s a push and pull going on between Vriska’s narcissism and her over-the-top self-deprecation.

https://homestuck.com/story/2150

I might be pulling this out of my ass, but I feel like there’s a case to be made for Aradia and Vriska actually being pretty strong parallels to each other - the only two trolls to get the tiger, faciliitators of destiny, devil-may-care grave-robbers. I don’t actually have a fully formed thought to really draw the two together, but I feel like there’s really something there. The way that Aradia puts Sollux to sleep here in order to ensure that the Right Disasters befall him is parallel to the way that Vriska puts people to sleep at clever points to make sure that Jack is created, and so on and so forth.

Maybe in the same way that Sollux serves as a parallel to Dave and helps us to understand what the right decision is for Dave, Aradia parallels Vriska and helps us to understand that roughly the same things are good for the two of them. Much later, (Vriska) basically chooses the same path of staying out of harm’s way and trying to enjoy the rest of her relatively eternal existence.

https://homestuck.com/story/2161

As soon as Karkat talks about Kanaya with anyone else, he further reinforces there is a friendship between the two of them.

Another quick note, as long as we’re here, I’ve kind of been putting this off, but I suppose with the one and only use of “autistic” as an insult in the comic, it’s finally time for me to bring this up:

Homestuck has a pretty problematic relationship with victims of abuse and people suffering from mental and physical disabilities. While on the one hand like, almost all of Homestuck’s main characters are disabled and abuse sufferers in some way or another, there are a lot of ways in which it’s not so charitable to them.

Some of it is stuff like this - early Homestuck uses the word retarded a lot as an insult, and has this single instance of autistic - all in all, that kind of language is problematic but in and of itself, not too egregious - Homestuck is a product of its time in that respect.

Stuff that I take issue with is more subtle - mostly stuff surrounding Jake and Tavros. I’ll have more to say on it later, but I wanted to find a good natural time to bring it up, and now seemed like a fine time.

https://homestuck.com/story/2162

Nepeta and Equius give us some information that helps grow our understanding of troll culture. We’ve already had some conversation about whose blood is better than whose from Sollux, but Equius starts to help us understand that some trolls take blood color extremely seriously.

These kids may not replicate the social anxieties of earthlings 1:1 but they still have plenty of things to be anxious about. The more I read Hiveswap the more I become convinced that most of these characters were never people we were meant to become terribly invested in - a lot of the function of the trolls, from a narrative perspective, is to give us parallels to the human main characters and insight into their lives, as well as to give us exposition on just how Sburb works exactly. And then most of them are pretty promptly killed off or put on a bus once their purpose is served (or in order to serve their purpose!)

Back to the subject of the social anxieties that the trolls have to deal with, Alternia is all about hierarchy baby.

https://homestuck.com/story/2173

Vriska may be a born cheater, but I’ve always sort of gotten the impression, based on the killer nature of FLARPING which is alluded to plenty in other situations, that if she’s cheating here, it may be the kind of cheating that is encouraged.

Between that and the way that Tavros and Aradia were discussing the “True Spirit of Flarping,” I can’t help but remember a description of the way propaganda works from some time ago. Propaganda doesn’t usually follow the story arc we are accustomed to, where we start with a character or characters who do not yet possess the tools or abilities they need to succeed, grow to overcome their weakness, and then overcome the problem that they couldn’t before.

Propaganda, instead, introduces us to characters who are already strong, facing enemies who are weak, or problems who are easy. They are strong because they are the heroes! Their enemies are weak. And the function of it is to intimidate the enemies of the person putting out the propaganda, and to rile up aggressive sentiment in those who are on the side of the propagandist.

We’ve already talked about how, in Homestuck “roleplaying” in both its more figurative and literal uses, is a way in which characters act out society’s expectations for them. In that way, I can’t help but view FLARPING as something of a propaganda tool itself, and one that’s pretty integral to Vriska’s way of thinking throughout the comic.

You’re either someone who is strong, or someone who is weak, and if you’re strong, you’re one of the victors, if you’re weak, you’re one of the losers, and you deserve whatever the victors decide what to do with you.

What I guess I’m building up to here is that there are real world societies that Troll Culture seems like an exaggerated parody of - particularly the more militaristic aspects of the Romans, and the Spartans. I’m going to wait for another time to write down all my thoughts about them, because this is turning into a bit of an essay, but suffice to say, it’s probably going to coincide with the one about Patriarchy whenever I get around to it.

https://homestuck.com/story/2175

There’s an interesting thing going on here between the way that Tavros is drawn (nearly identical to his imagine spot about flying around on Prospit), and the way that his erratic behavior isn’t actually all that different from the way characters normally do absurd and dangerous things here.

I’m by no means excusing what Vriska is doing here, but I think that between the fact that Tavros already wants to fly anyway, and the fact that again, characters do this kind of self-destructive thing in Homestuck all the time anyway, although to less of an exaggerated degree, Andrew is drawing a parallel between the narrative prompts from the Exiles, Vriska’s manipulations, and the intrusive thoughts that we already have on our own anyway.

Vriska manipulates Tavros the way that Doc Scratch manipulates her, although considerably clumsier, by getting him to do what he already wants to anyway.

https://homestuck.com/story/2177

That’s really all there is to say on the matter.

It’s like poetry, they rhyme.

In the same way that Bro manipulates Dave by imposing an idea of what it means to be a man on him - someone who can be beaten within an inch of his life, or beat someone else to within an inch of his life without batting an eye - Vriska tries to manipulate Tavros throughout his arc, and this kind of so-called “tough love” is just the start of it.

There’s a lot of supplementary material that delves deeper into Vriska’s rationale for her mistreatment of Tavros, but she makes it clear herself as we go through the comic that she at least justifies her mistreatment of Tavros by telling herself that the purpose of it is to toughen him up (so he can be one of the strong people, a winner who gets the girl.)

https://homestuck.com/story/2178

As he often is about what’s going on with other people when he’s distracted from thinking about himself by his own agitation, Karkat is probably right about Vriska - girls like her are a dime a dozen in the upper classes, and that’s the point. The point of troll society is to produce people like Vriska amongst the highbloods.

https://homestuck.com/story/2195

Let’s dig into Vriska’s self-stylization as an apocalypse buff for a second because it’s not something I think gets talked about a lot.

Apocalypticism is, in my estimation, kind of a form of generational narcissism. There are doomsayers in every generation, who claim that this is it - this new catastrophe, this new social situation, is the most important thing in the world to ever happen. The end is here. All of world history culminates in this.

I don’t mean to downplay the actual existential threats of our generation of course; climate change, late capitalism, that sort of thing. But I think Vriska’s Apocalypse Buffery fits pretty well into her need to be the most important person in Paradox Space all the time.

On another note, Luck in Homestuck is very closely related with a few concepts like Agency in Homestuck through the Aspect of Light. Terezi will later assert that luck doesn’t matter at all. What’s up with that?

Maybe Luck and Karma are two sides of the same coin (ha!) Both of them are pieces in the puzzle of Theodicy, that is to say, the metaphysics question of why there is bad in the world.

Someone like Vriska (at the beginning of her arc) would say that it’s happenstance - bad things and good things can happen to bad and good people, there’s no greater meaning behind it. Vriska has a hard time taking responsibility for her own actions - her locus of control is external, for the most part.

Terezi on the other hand mostly attributes everything to a person’s actions, hence the need to punish bad people, and reward good ones. Terezi would say that good things happen to good people, and bad things happen to bad people. Her locus of control is internal.

Maybe the answer is both motherfuckin’ things.

https://homestuck.com/story/2202

Just as Vriska’s introduction is through a conversation with her victim, so Doc Scratch’s introduction is through a conversation with his victim. Or at least, his most immediate victim.

It’s like poetry, they rhyme.

https://homestuck.com/story/2204

Kanaya pretty well sums up here what I was getting at when talking about Terezi and Vriska’s different locuses of control.

There’s no real good or bad luck here. Good luck for someone is bad luck for someone else, often enough. What “good luck” means to Vriska is that events go down the way that she personally wants them to.

And so, by seizing control and power in situations where she is helpless, the Thief of Light ensures that she always has all the luck.

Kanaya might not be right, by the way, not 100%. I’m not a stoic. You can’t just magically wish away suffering by deciding that actually, you’re 0k with it, anymore than Aradia can. Like I said, the truth probably lies somewhere between Luck and Karma.

https://homestuck.com/story/2207

While the terrifying violent monitor and the emotionally abusive manipulator are bifurcated, Vriska has a lot of the same emotional responses to her guardians as Dave does to his singular guardian - notice the similar, self-soothing language that Vriska’s narrative employs compared to the way that Dave self-sooths when trying to convince himself that the way Bro treats him is just fine and normal.

https://homestuck.com/story/2211

Equius to me is a super interesting character, because on the one hand, he’s a joke character Andrew uses to antagonize the audience by being gross but Andrew also uses him to say the quiet part loud - Homestuck is already, to begin with, a pretty lewd webcomic full of horny characters whose emotional hangups and destructive relationships with societal norms sabotage their chances at happiness. That’s all Equius is. His entire function from start to finish, aside from a source of ribald humor, is to draw attention to the fact that everyone in this comic is looking for comfort in someone else’s body, comfort from the way that unrealistic societal expectations and their attempts to live up to them don’t match up to what’s inside of their heart. Equius is a parody of Homestuck inside of Homestuck. Absurdly overpowered, ridiculously horny, all twisted up inside.

https://homestuck.com/story/2220

The language here that Equius uses - degenerate - is evocative of the sorts of right-wing authoritarian hate mongers that Equius’ ideology stands in for. Equius, of course, has doubts about said ideology, which he starts to express through transgressive relationships pretty much as soon as we meet him, like the one with Aradia. The fact that he can’t make sense of the warring ideas inside of him almost literally kills him.

https://homestuck.com/story/2221

Except that what kills him literally is a shitty clown.

I think what’s going on here is interesting, because if you want to read Equius as like, Homestuck in a nutshell, Equius’ ideological hangups are co-morbid with his sexual hangups, and resolving one set would probably go a long way toward resolving the other set. Equius is, for lack of a better term, a deviant. The sorts of things that excite him (here, viscerally) don’t match up with his idea of how troll society is supposed to be.

Equius and Gamzee are confronting each other with a different vision for what Troll Society is supposed to be like.

https://homestuck.com/story/2222

In stark contrast to the shallow and insincere hostility of Trolls who are actually friends with each other, Vriska and Equius maintain a veneer of social grace as they mutually plan to backstab each other.

https://homestuck.com/story/2237

Vriska is pretty clearly projecting here, but she’s also 100% right. I guess when you know somebody, you know them. Or it could be happenstance.

Her view of redemption is also transactional. “I will make things the way they were before, and things can go back to being the way that they were,” she seems to say. It’s a very legalistic view of it, and while it might have a place in a justice system, even the extremely legalistic Terezi can tell that that wouldn’t actually fix anything. Maybe the physical and emotional damage could be repaired in theory, but if the actors in the situation don’t change themselves in fundamental ways, this is all just going to recur in the future.

Forgiveness isn’t something an abuser can earn - nobody has the right to claim that they have restored a relationship that they destroyed in the first place by demonstrating token repentance.

https://homestuck.com/story/2238

If Andrew already had in mind that Equius should in some way be a part of the gestalt of souls that is Lord English, he’s foreshadowing it early here by comparing Equius’ voyeuristic habits to Scratch’s.

https://homestuck.com/story/2244

I’ll lay my cards on the table and say I think that Doc Scratch can present the facts 100% and still be dishonest. I’m a compatibilist - I think that Free Will and Accountability are compatible with the idea of a deterministic universe. Doc Scratch doesn’t have to talk anyone into anything, but the material conditions that led everyone to the decisions that they chose to make were orchestrated by Lord English. Scratch may not be making any decisions here that effect the outcomes, sure, but the game was rigged in his favor from the start.

Again, I’m not excusing Vriska’s actions here. But for the same reason that we wouldn’t blame Tavros for jumping off of a cliff just because trying to fly is something he already wanted to do to begin with, I think it’s clear to anyone with eyes that Doc Scratch is at least partially responsible for creating this little monster.

Vriska’s complicated. Let’s move on so this whole post doesn’t turn into more Vriskourse. That’s the last thing anyone needs.

https://homestuck.com/story/2258

You know you’re going to anyway.

I guess what intrigues me so much about this section is the gradation between manipulation and coercion.

https://homestuck.com/story/2263

Vriska might be a born cheater, but Doc Scratch is a sore loser.

She’s pretty easy to root for when she’s against him.

https://homestuck.com/story/2269

Man, Act 5 Act 1 is just absolutely lousy with conversation about choice and luck.

https://homestuck.com/story/2276

Part of what creates ambiguity in terms of how much Vriska’s choices are her nature versus the conditions that shaped it is on display here in her conversation with Aradia.

Vriska doesn’t really know how to interact with people positively, like, at all. Nobody’s ever taught her. She doesn’t know what it means to be a friend to someone. She doesn’t know what it means to help someone. She doesn’t know how to be loved or forgiven.

Is this like the scorpion and the frog? Or does she have free will? (I’ll give you a hint, it’s the second one.)

https://homestuck.com/story/2280

This whole sequence is just a delight. The trolls are really just such disaster people, and if I can be excused, it’s easy to put more emotional distance between myself and say, Equius, than it is between myself and Vriska and Terezi. Like I said, Equius says the quiet part out loud, so there’s really nothing much to analyze there.

Aradia’s inability to control the ribbits is part of a general mood of a lack of control that she has as a character. Vriska’s lack of control causes her to rage at the heavens and lash out at the people around her. Aradia is just 0k with it, and neither is a healthy coping strategy. The result is that the two of them break a lot of shit.

https://homestuck.com/story/2305

For the first time in his life, Karkat is not alone.

https://homestuck.com/story/2319

I could really be mistaken here, but the way this whole sequence is presented here really feels, on an archival reread, to be telling me, “You do not need to care about these characters.” Certainly they serve a function in the story, but with the exception of a few of them (literally only a third of them), they serve as tools in an authorial toolbox to help flesh out the setting - not so unlike the Carapacians actually, but with a lot more personality.

https://homestuck.com/story/2323

Kanaya is threefold one of the few of her kind, making her extra special. While she is closest with Rose, she’s a clear parallel to Jade, who if memory serves, suffered frequent accustations of being a Mary Sue early on. Kanaya’s level of specialness (in terms of combined rare factors) outcompetes even Jade’s. Probably a part of the playfully antagonistic style of Homestuck in general.

https://homestuck.com/story/2338

It slipped my mind earlier that the honey on Sollux’s hands was being directly juxtaposed with Dave’s blood on his own hands, and here Kanaya’s.  All three of them are, to some extent or another, contemplating their mortality. As Kanaya said just a few panels ago though, death is confusing without the finality. Just another way that Homestuck plays with the nomenclature of endings and beginnings and intermissions and brings into question the usefulness of those categories.

https://homestuck.com/story/2343

I have always enjoyed the dynamic that Kanaya and Eridan share with each other, and I wish there were more conversations of her just dunking on him.

Also of note in this little conversation is the way that Kanaya and John mirror each other’s language. This is an example though where they could not possibly be mirroring it the way that Dave and John might be when they’re talking about Bec, or the way that she and Karkat might be. They have, it seems, the same penchant for mischief.

https://homestuck.com/story/2345

Like her counterparts from Universe B, Kanaya’s preoccupation with relationships and personal contact is made manifest through her Squiddle Lunchtop.

https://homestuck.com/story/2350

Both of the main Pages in Homestuck are characters whose primary usefulness is seen through their ability to make friends and broker alliances. I suspect that being a Page in Sburb is to some extent a bit like being an ADC in League of Legends.

The ADC or Attack Damage Carry, if you’re not familiar with the nomenclature, is a character who starts the game weak, and remains vulnerable throughout such that the whole team has to play babysitter. If you think that sounds unappealing to play, you’d be right - it can be pretty hard to find someone willing to play ADC, especially with the popularity of high-risk high-reward Asassins (not so unlike a thief!) who are their direct counter.

In spite of their relative vlunerability, the ADC has absolutely dominated the meta of League of Legends for the past ten years for the simple reason that there is absolutely no substitute when it comes to controlling objectives.

Maybe Pages are a little bit like that. Frustrating to be one, frustrating to have one around, but extremely rewarding to invest in. It’s too bad nobody can be arsed to give them the emotional support they need to flourish. Too bad they have such... intractible character flaws.

https://homestuck.com/story/2356

Kanaya’s inability to stop mothering people sabotages her chance at winning Vriska’s affection - no doubt because Vriska has misread the situation as Kanaya being her romantic rival for Tavros’s attention. For the better, I guess, since Rosemary is my shit.

Trolls sure are weird.

https://homestuck.com/story/2369

Vriska has already figured out the point of Sburb, and perhaps the ultimate riddle, although she clearly hasn’t figured out the ramifications of it yet.

In any case, it should be clear how she has interpreted Sburb’s directive - authenticate your own existence through reproduction.

Being a winner, having self-worth, being able to justify your own existence means being strong enough, smart enough, pretty enough to shape the rest of existence in your own image.

She’s missing a critical detail, and its absence means she has it completely backwards.

https://homestuck.com/story/2370

We already know what is on the other side of the portal. Vriska is making herself out to be the final boss.

The final boss and the treasure are the same thing, in her mind.

The struggle is the objective.

The fighting is the point.

https://homestuck.com/story/2374

Just wanted to take a second to say that this whole sequence is so unnerving and horrible that I was sure she was going to murder, violate, and/or eat him, not necessarily in that order, the first time I read through this.

The sad reality is, this is the fucked up courtship ritual of a girl who has no idea how to be intimate with other people.

https://homestuck.com/story/2391

And that’s where we’ll pause for the night, having finished nearly 300 pages as promised.

Hope I wasn’t getting too lazy there at the end.

I’m enjoying my weekend.

Hope that yinz enjoy yours once it rolls around.

For now, Alive and Not Sober, Cam signing off.

[multimetaverse]

DOAFP 1x09 Review

State of the Union was a great ep and Doafp continues to be unlike anything else on TV. Let’s dig in!

Very nice to see Camila trying to help Bobby,  and I still can’t believe Fairy Gaymothers was said on Disney. She did try to help though in the end Danielle talking about Cami’s hesitance to come out to her parents as being part of Cami’s process was what did the trick for Bobby. It’s amazing that we get to see adult lgbtq characters interacting with and helping a young gay kid; really never thought I’d see this on Disney

Cami straight up says that she thinks Bobby likes Liam and that the fight was caused by misplaced passion; we’re well into textual territory. It’s interesting that they took the time to spell it out for the audience this ep. If Bobby ends up coming out to Liam or Sam or whoever by using the word gay rather than talking about his feelings for Liam then that would explain the writers having Cami spelling it out this ep but we’ll see soon enough

Glad that Bobby did the right thing and broke up with Monyca, she’s a sweet girl and by the end of the ep seems to get that Bobby likes Liam and not her. Seems like the mention of kissing in a closet at the new party is what finally tipped Bobby over which isn’t surprising given Bobby’s reaction to their first kiss

I’ll give the show credit for not having Bobby kiss Monyca again and for keeping their first kiss off screen. Realistically they’re going to have a very hard time getting Bobby kissing a boy on screen so limiting what they’ve shown when Bobby was with a girl will prove to be very wise should the show have further seasons. I don’t know how familiar the Doafp writers are with Andi Mack but they seem to be learning from its mistakes whether that’s deliberate or not. Cyrus’ story line was horribly censored and unequal when compared to all the straight characters but also compared to with what Cyrus was allowed to do when he was dating Iris, including kissing her twice

From a photo one of the writers, LaDarian Smith, posted ep 7 was already written by the end of May 2019 which suggests that all of the eps were at least in draft form before production started in summer 2019. It explains the coherence of the eps so far which seem to be well planned out. For Andi Mack S1 they only got final permission to have Cyrus come out just a few days before filming the lookback in 1x12 which shows in the writing since there wasn’t much set up for Cyrus’ crush on Jonah and until the lookback it really wasn’t anything that couldn’t be explained away by Cyrus just admiring Jonah. It’s clear that Doafp had permission either from the start or from very early on in the writing to go full steam ahead with Bobby’s story line which gives it a great sense of momentum

We once again get Gabi seemingly brushing off Cami’s concerns about her parents and implying that she should just come out to them already and we also saw that Danielle wants Cami to tell her parents about them.  Cami would know her parents best and presumably her fears that they’re homophobic aren’t unfounded but Gabi and Danielle seem to think that nothing bad would happen if Cami’s parents found out. Certainly a story line where Cami’s parents are somewhat homophobic could lead to some very interesting things especially if it happens around when Bobby eventually comes out to Gabi. But if they aren’t allowed to tackle it or can’t pull it off then having Cami realize that her fears were unfounded is a good way to go. There’s no real precedent for homophobia being tackled on Disney; Andi Mack vaguely alluded to it and it did tremendous damage to the Tyrus story line because it was poorly written and not something that the show could ever have pulled off with the censorship they were under. I don’t think the Doafp writers are so stupid to introduce such a serious topic without planning it out but I hope they tread carefully

I would not have thought that it was Spring Break already, it was clear that the season started with the school year already in session but I’m surprised that we are this far along. If they do get a S2 then they’ll have little choice but to skip ahead to Elena’s 7th grade year and Bobby’s 9th grade year

Lot’s of great jokes this ep, Bobby thinking RuPaul’s Drag Race is a car racing show was my favourite with Palo Alto first base being a close second

I really liked the transitions this ep

Ah yes Escape (The Piña Colada Song), the best song ever written about a married couple trying to cheat on each other. I like these little glimpses of Robert’s personality that we get and I love the focus on Gabi and Elena’s relationship

Sam was barely in the ep, certainly the least we’ve seen a main character. This is common to shows like GMW and Andi Mack where main cast members have to be in pretty much every ep even when there’s no real plot for them 

Elena finally apologizes to Sasha and we get the full version of the mall poem which is realistically awful

We see just how integrated Sam has become into the kids lives which is why Gabi was holding off on telling them the truth but also is exactly the reason why she needed to tell them the truth

Looking Ahead:

I’m not worried about Sabi longterm but if they’re having a clean break then why is Sam over at their house giving Bobby advice next ep? It’s a messy situation but if he and Gabi aren’t going to be in a relationship then there does need to be a discussion on what if any role he’ll still have in Bobby and Elena’s lives. I do wonder what the ultimate endgame is for Sabi. Weddings make for good series finales but unless there’s a major time skip I can’t see the show going on long enough to have that be a plausible ending for them. Maybe as the show draws to a close they move in with each other or get engaged?

We’ll see if the Elena, Sasha, and Jessica friendship can be repaired. I remember parties where only some people in a class or group were invited though those didn’t happen until I was in High School

We got Sam talking to Bobby earlier in the season and his advice made Bobby realize that he shouldn’t have pranked Liam. As nice as it would be to see Bobby come out to Sam I’m not sure that’s a good choice for the show as that would leave Sam keeping a secret from Gabi about her own son

I do think Bobby comes out to Liam in some fashion and that Bobby will be canonly gay after the finale which is exciting especially as his story line came out of nowhere

I remain skeptical that Cartero is mutual though Brandon Severs has still been hyping the ship up. If he’s telling the truth then we’re just days away from Disney’s first bisexual character which would be very exciting. If he’s not then he’ll have a lot to answer for. Either way he’s either spoiling the show or stringing people along and neither should be happening and I hope that someone gets him to cut back on his twitter messiness. Charlie Bushnell is now on twitter and he’s been much more circumspect and professional not getting too much into Cartero and focusing on tweets about Bobby’s sexuality and the show itself as well as the petitions and campaigns to save the show

On that note, I fear that the show is likely over for good after this Friday. It sucks that the diversity and inclusivity that makes the show so amazing is also why it’s in danger of not being renewed. The cast was due to have a Q&A at the Paley Centre in May before the coronavirus intervened which may be a hopeful sign as it would be pretty pointless to hype up a cancelled show. A part of me hopes that with Bobby being officially gay next after the finale that Disney + may be wary of outright cancelling it especially after the Love Victor debacle but I don’t have much faith in Disney. The series is co-produced by CBS studios and was originally envisioned as being a CW show which explains why it doesn’t feel like a Disney show but how comfortable Disney would be with all the boundary pushing the show has done and would continue to do in future seasons is an open question. Regardless, I’m excited for the finale and hope that it does justice for the truly wonderful season the show has had

[adamgeorgiou]

Arthur, My Cousin and Me

I don’t know how to detangle Arthur from myself enough to write dispassionately or accurately. Instead, what follows is something like half him, half me. It’s more journal entry than elegy. To a general audience, that might make this less interesting than it otherwise could be, but it’s what I’ve got. Remember this if and when you get to the end. 

Anyway…

I feel like I knew Arthur. Then I heard what others had to say and saw what others had to feel. Following his death, I still feel like I know him. In certain ways better than most or all. But there’s a part of me that’s often strained to believe that I was in more of his inner circle than I actually was, and his death exposed the truth of my position.

It’s a practical observation, not a dramatic one. I’m not saying he had a dominating and hidden alter ego or that he pitied me. It’s simpler: his death revealed my confidence in our bond as an illusion innocuously leftover from being kids together, from back when we actually spent serious time together. I want him back now like I’ve continuously wanted back what we lost long ago, but now it’s double-permanent and legible. Before it was remediable and blissfully hidden — embarrassing in hindsight, like most nostalgia. 

But he also had that same nostalgia and held onto it, too, which makes me feel better. That mutual thread to our shared past was strong for both of us. It gave us a lot to lean on, but we leaned on it a little too heavily. Without that crutch, our adult lives were mostly opaque to one another, but also we were getting close again, involving each other again. Building anew. The left hook following the right. It’s a shame we weren’t closer than we were, when he died. It’s a shame our getting closer was cut short. 

I guess it makes sense, generally: as adults, we’re all doing niche things, and niches are small and excluding, so everything else trends towards becomes small talk. (And that’s fine and right, because focus is necessary for growth. Just try and stay loyal, which Arthur did and my cousins do.)

Maybe it wasn’t so much that I was uniquely outside of Arthur’s confidence, but more that we had both (or all) grown a bit into our own isolation. In any case, I mourn the loss and its new finality.

So that’s him and I as adults, apart. Who was he, though? What can I tell you?

Well, I’ll briefly start with me, for context. Who I am is still him, the result of his influence, for sure. Of growing with, then adjacent to him, then apart, then converging again (more on the converging, later). If you distilled me down and got rid of all the litter and trivia, the rare and potent stuff remaining would be similar to what I knew of Arthur. We had the same essence, as I saw it. So I can show you that reflection, and you can tell me if it’s accurate (See: first paragraph’s disclaimer). (Also, note my calling out our similarity is carefully placed right before I go on to flatter him best I can — tactics, baby — but don’t read my ego into this. What follows is all my cousin.)

Arthur and confidence. Old saying: the pro fails more often than the amateur tries.

The subtleties of his personality were sophisticated and complicated. He could spar at an exceptional level from an early age. But he started out lazy and overthrowing a lot of his punches, gassing out quickly. 

As a kid, he was autistically independent, preoccupied and hyper focused, but without any of the social hangups. He could talk to anyone and impressed everyone. He was adored, and rightfully so, but he also marched to the beat of his own nunchucks, exclusively. You couldn’t bullshit him, and you couldn’t placate him unless he was genuinely fascinated with what you offered. This is how kids should be, insatiably curious and wild. It was my favorite era of his, and where we spent the most time together. I was such an asshole to him, and he still always hung out with me. And we followed each other into a lot of similar interests.

Then he got his first hit of testosterone, and followed a phase where he literally held a fist up in every photo taken of him. Ha. Puberty’s a bitch. That didn’t last long. Reality checked and he stabilized. The important thing is that he knew he wasn’t going to watch, he was going to play. I loved him here, jealously and from a further distance. I couldn’t hang.

Then maturity: The firm handshake, the direct eye contact, the bright teeth, the smiling cheeks. Approachable, but not daffy. If anything his charisma was a prank and shrewd tactic; a car salesman during the first act, a playful subversion before the intellect and wit made their debut; or, worse for you, they didn’t. You’d start talking to Arthur and think you were walking in on a frat-boy breakfast table, then he’d go on to tell you why your problem was really because of what Robert Moses did back in ‘56, or he’d ask if you thought the The States were in a similar stage of decadence as Rome before its fall.

To him, your reason was more important than your choice, which is an axiom of all good conversation, one that most people are afraid to admit because doing so requires the ability to tread water. It’s easier to talk about the weather or watch sports. But Arthur wasn’t afraid of going deeper, and he had the tact to know when it was the right thing to do.

He was a man of appetite. A true traveling gourmand. He could scoff at you from within a seersucker, but he never compared oysters. If a menu offered Seattle’s or Rhode Island’s, he’d reply, “keep ‘em coming” and demand littlenecks or (and) crawfish to follow. He was less interested in varieties of wine, more in varieties of tomato and whether you had a good coarse salt.

He was spoiled rotten — as we all were, and mostly by the same sources — but he lacked pretension, except for that deliberately wielded for ironic effect. Underneath all his developed and developing taste was a lot of comical stoicism — laughing at gross injustice and absurdity, but also doing something about it, literally. His principles were conjured up from experience with the trappings of pleasure, with readings of history, with a variety of surprisingly worldly stories. I always wondered where and how he got it all. The guy had seen things, but not that many things. How was he always so versed? I don’t know, but if you’ve ever watched him eat a box of clementines straight up, wide-eyed in a wrinkled rugby shirt, then you would also know he was more pensive than pleasure seeking.

Entertainment was a defense, one he was growing out of as he realized it interfered with his goals and their requirements. A defense against what? I don’t know for sure, but I suspect the typical. On one hand, a lack of patience and a petulant refusal to be bored. On the other, the existential and solipsistic. A defense against the subconscious shame and pain of cynicism. Was love real? Was wealth worth anything? Was the world bogus? Was anyone authentic? Ethical? Himself? Others?

Look, I’m not saying he was overwhelmed with this gooey crap. He was a thinker, not a navel gazer. I don’t know if he even said any of this stuff out loud, but anyone with a brain is going to ask some questions about the life they’re living and the society they’re in, and most of us don’t like the first obvious answers we come up with. Then we do something about not liking those answers. We put fingers in our ears some of the time, we do what’s easy some of the time, and we do what’s difficult some of the time. And also, anyone with any talent is going to find themselves bored among the average, and falling short of their own standards. These were Arthur’s struggles, I think. At least, they’re kind of my struggles, and Arthur seemed to harmonize with me when we’d commiserate. Or maybe we were both pompous assholes, wannabe aristocrats from the suburbs. Or maybe that was just me. Ha.

To some, it might seem appropriate to haunt him here in this postscript, as if to justify his death as the terminal approach of a depression into cessation. Let me be clear: this was totally not the case, from my vantage. Instead, the above attitudes are more like the required cost-of-entry to a great show. If the unexamined life isn’t worth living, it does not mean the examined one is easy to live. The alternative is Judge Judy and a monogrammed armchair. Not for Arthur. Caulfield eventually quits his bitching, but he has to eat a lot of shit first. Siddhartha finally leaves the brothel, but he had to walk in that door in order to walk out of it later. Hard times are the prerequisite to epiphany. Painful and confusing; but hopeful, not despairing. 

And you could tell Arthur was among this company because the personas he employed became increasingly sophisticated, useful, attractive, and comfortable. From the brawling, pack-leading, indulgent, jokester/show-off into the relaxed, independent, luxurious, conversationalist who wasn’t as afraid to let his guard down, who was increasingly responsible. He was cultivated. He had a tamed self-consciousness (as we all aspire). It was impressive to watch him pull his own strings, to compare that with your own attempts and be humbled.

And thus, as I see it, the irony, hard to swallow, is that Arthur was finding answers to life’s hard questions in fistfuls. Love was possible. Work was worth it. Viktor Frankl was right. And he was learning patience and conviction, already better at their practice than most (e.g. me). As Dan put it, he was just taking off. He jumped and then a hand reached up from the almost escaped gravity and cut him by the heel.

A complete, but simple tragedy.

Complete, because the good guy lost. 

Simple, because Arthur’s life was not some melodramatic airport novel. His death was a lightning strike, a deus ex machina in reverse. A two sentence accident, not an assassination. Not much more to be read from it. Mortality is hard, right? (See: Genesis).

And for all my elaboration, I don’t even think Arthur was all that noxiously introspective or exceptionally self destructive either. The guy knew how to love and be loved. How to let his hair down, appropriately. How to shift gears and drive forward. How to resist temptation. How to find and be good company. How to stare at a fish tank. How to sit and read. How to eat fruit in the sun. He was typically bright, with a lot of flair and personality. I know he was grateful.

Or I’m wrong. Maybe I’m inventing a story to make sense of something more concealed or of pure chaos. I don’t know. I don’t think so.

In any case, it’s a tragedy. And regardless of what is true, I’m still glad I got to hear his story and be part of some of it. He was and remains a good influence to me, a fellow bright eyed boy attempting to sustain himself in the body of a straight-backed man. He’ll live on for a long, long time. And I keep talking to him.

That’s some of what I knew of him. And given this is my catharsis, forgive me further, but more about me:

Sadness, gratitude, and disappointment. 

I’m sad. Still? Yes. Always? Probably not. The inevitability of death hits a certain emotional bedrock after enough love is lost. I’m probably not there yet, still more distance to fall, but things are tapering off, in the aggregate. Maybe I’m just cold. 

Sadness is the least interesting. I am separated from someone I love, and that sucks. We all have people we’ve loved, and we are all damned to lose them. But yes, I get those black bile clutches to the chest as I’m reminded that Arthur (et al.) is gone. And I wanna hold your hand, if you’re feeling it too.

It’s a curse that requires gratitude. Time keeps on slipping, and the portion of time that one spends with good people is shorter still. I’m thankful for Arthur’s good company. From childhood to peerdom. This is what I’ll try and focus on. It’s the mantra I’ll repeat. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Then there’s the sulking disappointment. My head slowly shaking, my eyes unfocused contemplating the loss of the unpredictable conversations, the refreshingly interesting trivia, the uniqueness, the independence, the honed never impersonated taste, the great breadth of knowledge, the artful ball busting, the avoidance of cliches, the shared recommendations, the belly laughs. Obnoxious mutual indulgence — food and talk — during Thanksgiving at Stacy’s table, the shared past at Everit Ave, the just started planning. The feeling of a just missed answer to the question of how to get it back, continuously nagging.

More on that: I’m dealing with a huge mess of unanswerable questions and impotence. There’s so much broken by his leaving, least of all in me, and I can’t fix any of it. No way to organize it. I can’t even help others fix it. Acknowledging the impossibility of the situation seems better than ignoring it, so I will (…acknowledge that death breaks the world and makes inconsistent a lot taken as granted). Arthur’s death is an oily surreal void in the middle of the road. A portal to nowhere. And sure, life will go on. We will preserve. Time heals all wounds. That’s all true. But any schmuck can offer a platitude. I want to be responsible for what he’s left behind, in precise detail. I want to pick up the slack, fill in the blank. But what was his remains his, locked up behind whatever door his soul is now shut. It’s maddening.

I went so far as to tell Olivia that I was her brother, too, and that I would be there for her. Idiot. I love her, she knows I love her, I know she loves me. Yada, yada. I need no pity for my vomiting on the rug. My point is: I can’t be Arthur. I can’t even be close to Arthur. Adam — while still pretty good — isn’t a substitute for Arthur. I apologized for being so naive and sloppy, but the moment taught me what I was trying to say above: that I am ignorant of so much of Arthur’s life, and in ways that can’t be remedied by interviewing his friends or reading his book or wearing his shoes, sort of speak. A lot of it isn’t just unknown, it’s unknowable.

This requires more thought. Surely something can be done. Entropy can’t be rewound, but duct tape can keep a plane in the air. So here’s something I’m going to try: I’m going to be more vulnerable. I’m going to expose myself the way a brother or a son might, and see what happens. It won’t transform me into a replacement, and I’ll probably make a clown of myself. But it’s worth a shot. To build different connections, instead of replicas. I can already see that the cousins have been hammered stronger by this. Now it’s time to be deliberate, and keep that train going, if possible. And yea, I’ll do the practical stuff. You can’t call Barb, enough. And I’ll call Liv, too, but with finesse, without overdoing it. And the rest of our family, as well, because we all lost something. For some a spleen; for others, more vital organs.

Moving on.

It’s further maddening to have Arthur’s death aligned and intertwined with so much of my pleasure. I’m a week into marriage. I’m ecstatic and overwhelmed by the potential of my future. I’m also newly terrified of losing a child not yet even conceived. That’s a fun one. Probably a lot more neurosis to come. But, yea… it’s a violent set of waves to endure and ride. It’s exhilarating and crushing, and guiltily I’ll admit, more of the former. I’m pronoid.

The guilt compounds as I realize that I’m only comparing the conflict between my pleasure and pain, when the actual accounting includes my pleasure, my pain, and all the pain of all the others he left behind, those we both loved. What about Alexandra? Barb? Liv? Dan? A dominating, trailing factor; ego-hidden and selfishly deprioritized. What would Jesus do? Not have a wedding during shiva, although I appreciate all the encouragement and insistence from the also mourning invitees.

Back to Arthur and I having grown apart and then, more recently, back together:

There exists a line separating most relationships. On one side of the line you have people who have a reasonably complete model of you in their head. (See: Theory of Mind.) On the other side of the line are people who have a functional model; they know what they need to know to get the job done, but they don’t know, perhaps have never seen, the whole thing. For ex., a spouse vs a colleague (most of the time). 

The line is called intimacy, and relationships on both sides of the line can be valuable, but the intimate ones have more potential in both directions, fat tails; the intimate ones can yield fortunes and bankruptcies. Acquaintances are tepid.  

I described it above, how Arthur’s and my relationship moved from the intimate to the distant. I’ll skip further detailing that transition, and just get to the thing that hurts now: we were getting markedly closer, again. I could see the trajectory of our friendship and would bet on our returning to intimacy and confidence.

If the isolation of vocation and growth drives most bourgeois adults apart and into impersonal silos, then eventual mastery and plateau allows room for a focus on humanity, again. And humanity is universal and objective. People can stand on it, together, and get to know each other (again). That’s where I felt Arthur and I were.

I felt like Arthur and I had taken two separate tracks at a fork 15 years ago, and just recently those two roads started to merge back into the same path. We had stories to tell each other, of our time in the wild. It was the basis for a new bond, perhaps stronger than the old one.

Unsolicited phone calls. Talks of marriage, health, wealth. Suggestions of books and podcasts that were actually followed through with, instead of disappearing into the void like most cocktail party prescriptions. We’d follow back. Not rushing each other past awkward silence. Being patiently invested in one another. Showing up. Talking about vulnerable topics, like fears and aspirations for careers, and relationships, and family. And then, right during the peak of this rekindling, this jubilee, he died. And I doubt that I was the only one whose newfound growth and compatibility were cut short. You’re not alone.

So I hurt for the spent love, yes, like that of most grief. But I hurt more for the lost potential. I had so many fresh dreams that included him. It’s disappointing and sad.

To be clear, I’m disappointed in what’s lost, not disappointment in him. I blame him for nothing, even if maybe I should or others do. But any of his mistakes could have easily been mine, and so I sympathize. I’m not angry. Ambition implies risk. Vice is vice is inevitable. Growth means growth from something. Different contexts, need not apply.

Anyway, what else? The thing I linger on now is a weird faith. I have little faith or rather I have difficulty finding faith. I scrutinize faith until it’s demoralized. And yet, the discontinuity introduced by Arthur’s absence gives me faith, illogically but compellingly. I don’t strive for it, it’s simply there, point blank. I can’t explain it, but I can describe it.

Arthur is gone forever, and Arthur is part of my future. Both irrevocably true, yet incompatible. What to do about it? Apparently, not much. My mind absolutely and happily refuses to budge. The feeling that Arthur is part of my future supersedes the knowledge that he’s not. Knowing he’s gone does nothing to my belief that my future includes him. So it continues to. Sue me, I can’t help it.

See you in the funnies, Arthur. (More trivia: I never called him Artie or Art or Archo. He was always Arthur to me.)

Lastly, some good, more recent memories (skipping some that have already been shared):

The last thing I spoke to Arthur about was extensive advice, over the phone, on how to structure a prenup. “Don’t put anything about kids in there, because the courts won’t accept that you understood what you were agreeing to, prior to actually having the kids.” Smart. “Everyone should get one! The courts encourage it! Helps ungunk the works.” Ha. Kelly and I never got a prenup, but the candid advice on such a touchy subject makes me laugh.

Eating a whole pig at a communal table, biergarten style, at Saxon and Parole, in New York. Arthur talking the whole table’s ear off about everything, and then after discussing eating brains, we asked the chef to bring the pig’s over, and he did. Afterwards, walking to our trains, jolly, drunk.

Visiting Arthur in Scotland. Going out to some Uni warehouse party, and me getting lost with some bird. I didn’t have a working European phone, and so when I got home at dawn, seeing him and his big bravado looking like a worried mother goose made me laugh and proud, like a big brother again. Him cooking the two of us mussels and linguine with three whole heads of garlic. Delicious. Steak in Edinburgh, and him showing me the castles like he was himself a duke, personal friends of Hume and Smith.

I wished we went on more walks together.

Us planning on going to Joe Beef, in Montreal, with Alexandra and Kelly.

Him calling me to tell me Anthony Bourdain had died, and subsequently talking about it. “If he can’t make it, who can?” There’s that cynicism again. But it was a candid moment. And we ended that talk, more or less, believing we could make it, even if Bourdain couldn’t.

Discussing whether we were fated to end up like our parents. 

Him shooting the .38 up in Gilboa.

Legos, spanky, ice box bedroom, V8-turbo toilet, the pool, the trampoline, the screen porch and its green furniture, endless chicken rolls followed by cold pizza, karate in the basement (no shoes on the mats), rolling on the carpet (i.e. roll mosh), forts, the Barbie game on the gateway computer in Izzy’s room, Snood, army men in the mud ripping up sod by the square foot unit, jealousy listening to Timberlake camp stories, the suburban with 100 blankets in the third row and Don McLean on the radio, toxic farts, the Pokemon store, the Pokemon cards I’d steal from him after going to the Pokemon store, a million cups of Lipton at Barb’s table, Rage Against the Machine in Dan’s car, lanyards, fishing in the Hewlett Bay, Harry Potter, him never sleeping over my house and getting rides home at 2am after attempting to (me pissed), hiding in that lone pine tree in the front yard, making window art out glitter glue, salamanders, watching him attempt to ride a bike in the driveway.

A menial history, but ours. Anyway…

Arthur, you were great. It’s not for me to say that you’re now resting in peace, because I think you were pretty zen while you were alive, in your own pastel-colored kimono kind of way. So instead, I hope you’re as satisfied there as you were interested here. I’ll see you soon, and until then, I’ll try and hold the line for you. Love ya’.

[charliejrogers]

First Cow (2020)

It’s impossible for me to write about First Cow without thinking that this movie is some sort of sublime cross-over between Joaquin Phoenix’s worst nightmare and joyous fantasy. Running at odds with his oddly emotional anti-milk Oscars acceptance speech back in February 2020, First Cow is a love letter to the power of milk in the realm of baking. The sweet, sweet udder juice provides the very backbone of a community’s happiness and two men’s livelihoods. But, where Phoenix’s nightmare turns to fantasy, the universe gets justice. No milk theft shall ever go unpunished! Move over, Herman’s Hermits; it’s not just “No Milk Today,” it’s no milk ever!

My kidding aside, I was pleasantly surprised by First Cow, though truthfully I’m not sure exactly what I expected besides knowing it was a movie set in nineteenth-century America. Acknowledging my own biases and knowing ahead of time that the director was a woman, I was surprised by how decidedly male this film was. There are really only three female characters of note throughout the whole film, and none of them have prominent speaking roles… in fact the only one who does speak English merely serves as a translator for men.

I wonder in what way the director, Kelly Reichardt, sees herself as fulfilling that role in making this film. That is, in choosing to deliberately make a movie about the nineteenth-century fur trappers in the harsh, male-dominated world of Oregon Territories, Reichardt wanted to highlight an aspect of the dominant “alpha” male society that is most certainly experienced by males but is rarely commented on, largely because it is considered female. I’m talking, of course, about love. I doubt there are viewers of this film who would disagree with my assessment that the two male protagonists shared a love for one another, but I’m sure many would categorize that love as merely representative of “deep friendship” or “platonic” (in the layman’s sense) at the most. While I’m not going to sit here and necessarily argue that the two characters shared an erotic love and I do not think that is the intent, I really do believe characterizing their relationship as merely “two great friends” would be received by the pair as a great insult. The two share the type of relationship seen among men that is rarely seen in the media save for war movies where “brotherhood” is a dominant theme. Outside of war, it’s a relationship that is largely reminiscent of the beautiful love seen between Midnight Cowboy’s Joe Buck and “Ratso” Rizzo. It’s the sort of sacrificial love that dominates the thoughts of Christian scholars. Still, it can be easily misinterpreted as erotic love. What I think Reichardt does beautifully is develop the love between the two carefully so you see it organically develop such that by the time we get to the final scene, we are unsurprised by one of the two character’s sacrificial acts of love.

The key scene, as I mentioned, comes at the end, but it’s noteworthy to mention that the pair’s ultimate fate is made plainly clear in the first few minutes of the movie. The movie starts (almost paradoxically) with an epilogue of sorts. We’re in the modern day, and a woman is exploring the forests of Oregon when her dog stumbles upon some bones that (with a little more digging) reveals two skeletons lying next to one another, like two lovers lying in bed. The best reason I can think of as to why Reichardt includes this epilogue before the rest of the film is because as soon as we the audience realize that two males are the most dominant couple in the film, we more readily anticipate and are more open to seeing love develop before our eyes.

So accordingly, after this brief pre-movie epilogue, the film jumps backwards in time to the nineteenth-century where we meet Otis “Cookie” Figowitz (John Magaro), the cook for a trapping company who is runs a little out-of-step with the rest of his crew. It is embodied in a visual motif that is repeated often throughout the film. We will have a shot of either of the two main characters, Cookie or his eventual companion King Lu (Orion Lee), doing something quiet in the foreground while characters perform some other more exciting activity in the background which in any other movie would take center stage due to the inherent spectacle. But it’s clear that Cookie is a more sensitive soul, he enjoys his time in the woods collecting mushrooms, and he does not have any interest in violence whatsoever. But that does not mean he isn’t without courage.

Early in the film, he comes across King Lu, a Chinese immigrant who is on the run after killing someone to avenge the killing of one of his good friends. Notably, when they first meet, King Lu is completely alone, hungry, and naked. While it isn’t addressed specifically, it is implicit in King’s and Cookie’s first meeting (and during other character’s subsequent interactions with King later in the film) but racially hostile undertones almost threaten to undermine King’s and Cookie’s initial friendship. Yet, like the story of the Good Samaritan, Cookie puts away his initial feelings of racial bias, and goes out of his way to clothe King with a blanket before allowing him to speak any further. Cookie grants King with a great deal of dignity, and goes one step further, offering to smuggle him among the various bags and supplies on his travels, knowing full well that if the rest of his crew find out that Cookie was hiding a “Chinaman murderer,” that he’d be in deep shit.

Cookie and King separate after this initial meeting, but upon reuniting later in the film, they never separate from one another until the very end. In what is the most puzzling choice in the film to me is Cookie’s initial decision to join King for a drink at King’s home. The two reunite in a trapping fort bar after a fight breaks out and the two are the only customers not drawn outside to enjoy the spectacle (the outsider/outcast motif returns). However, just before the start of the fight, one of the primary instigators of that fight requests for Cookie to watch over his infant whom he had brought to the bar. Therefore, when King asks Cookie to join in at his home, he is also asking him to abandon this helpless infant. The image of the baby swaddled in a basket recalls the previous imagery of King swaddled in the bags and supplies within which Cookie was smuggling him. And ultimately Cookie does abandon the baby for King, and in joining King for a drink at his home, never actually leaves. The two begin living together. So I’m not sure of the significance of the baby. Is it that Cookie had the choice between two “new lives,” one a literal new life of someone else and the other, in King, a chance at a new life for himself? Or is it simply just to serve as foreshadowing that in following King, Cookie is opening himself up to a life of indulgence where the concerns of others are less important than his own happiness?

As for the latter question and the plotline that develops around it, it really serves as a bitter critique of American capitalism and the American dream. While we love to tout the “by the bootstraps” myth, this movie serves as a simple morality play about how no matter what, pursuing the American dream means ripping somebody off for your own benefit. In this instance, it means Cookie and King nightly sneaking onto the property of the leader of the trapping fort and stealing milk from the only cow in the area in order to essentially have a monopoly on baked goods and make a pretty penny. Now, we can sit and debate about the morality of “owning” a cow, and whether Cookie and King are even doing anything immoral since it is preposterous to own an animal! Or I’m sure there are those (Joaquin Phoenix) who think Cookie and King are just as immoral for taking ANY milk from a cow as the man who owns the cow in the first place. This is not the time to discuss animal rights. But it is notable what the cow, too, has had to suffer in order allow for Cookie and Lee’s successes. She was initially transported to the trapping fort along with a mate and her calf, but both died en route. She spends her time tied to a tree and by the film’s end locked up within a small cage.

In sum, the love that Cookie so beautifully shared with King at film’s beginning does not seem so equally shared by the pair in regards to their relationship with others. And in their pursuit to become successful capitalists in a system rigged against them, they ultimately hurt some of those around them, most notably titular cow with whom Cookie has almost romantic relationship with, which in some ways makes his treating her as little more than a literal cash cow so egregious, even if he cares deeply for her.

Hence the morality play. I don’t have to spell it out for you what might happen if two people repeatedly rob the same person in the same way again and again and again. But even if we as the audience agree that the cards are stacked against Cookie and King from the start in their attempt to become independent, to achieve the American dream, the film never pretends that they are acting as virtuous agents. In the end, though, they get their redemption even as they receive punishment. King is given a chance to abandon Cookie outright who in an attempt to flee their pursuers has become badly injured. King realizes he can just take his riches and run. But he doesn’t. He decides to lie next to his dearly beloved companion. While he could not have predicted what would be the fatal consequences of this decision, he knows that sticking with Cookie in his current state will only cause him trouble. But that’s where the beautiful sacrificial love that defines this pair comes in. Whereas many will view this film and remember it as a cautionary tale about the American dream, I will forever remember the realistic love of brothers shared between these two wayward men.

***(1/4) (Three and one fourth stars out of four)

[lupinusalbus]

King Without a Crown - Jon Snow in the Final Season

This may be a slightly different reading of Jon and Dany’s relationship on Game of Thrones, but one that I think makes sense based upon perspectives that I’ve read and developed over the several months since the finale aired.  The finale was disappointing to a broad swathe of viewers, and for different reasons; many of the disappointments seemed to be focused on Jon and Dany’s relationship.  These two were arguably the central characters of the show and George RR Martin once told a director from GOT that the coming together of Jon and Dany was central to the point of it all.  For all we know, Martin may have modified his views since then, but the death of Daenerys at Jon’s hands was a climactic moment that had been building for years, and one which seemingly left Jon broken.

  The Origins of Their Liaison

The star-crossed Targaryens met in season seven of Game of Thrones when Jon Snow travels to Dragonstone in order to seek Dany’s help against the Night King and his army.  Jon as a character is driven by his inner moral compass, rather than by an interest in gaining power or external rewards.   He is a classic introvert and is motivated by an idealistic sense of good and evil and right and wrong; which leads him to become a “protector” not unlike his foster father Ned Stark.  Jon’s idealism, at least on the show, may predispose him to be somewhat blind to those characters who are more gray in their personal behavior.  Jon finds out the hard way that doing what is right according to his inner sense of honor does not always lead to a happy resolution.  Yet to not live by his personal code would mean the loss of the integrity which is most precious to him. 

I think that for the TV show (the books may be quite different) the central reason Jon falls for Dany is that he sees her as someone who is similar to himself in being motivated to protect others.  Although Dany is full of herself and her “destiny” in a way that Jon is not, we do see Tyrion telling Jon “she protects people from monsters, just as you do”.  We also see Missendei giving Jon a speech about being freed by Dany and about her being “the Queen we chose”.  Putting aside for now the question of Jon’s gullibility, this representation of Dany would be just the sort of thing that appeals to an idealist like Jon.  But the coup de grace happened when Dany flew in to rescue Jon and his party from the Whitewalkers, complete with a white coat.  I believe the white coat was shown in order to emphasize the better side of Dany that many people chose to see and believe in to their eventual detriment.  Jon was by no means the only person who was drawn in by this aspect of Dany’s persona.  Tyrion, Varys and Ser Davos were all Westerosi players who believed in Dany and spoke about the possibility of marrying her to Jon Snow in episode one of season eight.

In the beginning of Jon and Dany’s liaison, after Jon returns from the Wight hunt, both are shown to be giving up something which they value to the other.  Dany, overcome by Jon’s brush with death, and having seen his previous wounds, tells him that she will fight the Walkers with him without the earlier  precondition that he kneel to her.  Jon, also seemingly overcome by the moment, bends the knee and gives up his crown.  Dany is taken aback by this turn of events, and then cries when Jon says that the Northerners will “see her for what she is.”

This line, which is ominous given what eventually transpires, marks the turning point in how Jon sees Dany - someone who is like himself in the desire to protect others.  For Dany, entering into a relationship with Jon Snow is an advancement over her prior liaisons.  Although she loved Khal Drogo, he reflected and fed Dany’s dark side in many ways.  Although Dany liked Darrio Naharis, their relationship was mostly transactional and she easily left him behind.  In Jon’s case, we see that Dany has seriously fallen for someone who reflects her better self.  This is likely the reason she loves him, and their relationship is a mirror for her inner struggle.  Unfortunately, it’s a struggle that she will lose, as her dark side will win out in the end.

Jon Bending the Knee - A Poor Decision

The show depicts Jon as having a choice about whether to bend the knee to Dany, even though he later implies to the Northern Lords that he didn’t really have one at all if he wanted to save Westeros from the Night King.  As was recounted above, Dany made the offer to fight with Jon without her previous condition that he bend the knee first.  Jon’s sudden capitulation to Dany in season seven, after spending quite some time refusing her, marks the beginning of his decline as an heroic character, and may have actually contributed to Dany’s downfall.  Had Jon thought through his decision more carefully (as Sansa advised), he may have realized that submitting himself and the North to Dany was not necessarily in her best interest.  He may have been able to shield her from some of the hostility and suspicion with which she was greeted had he presented her as an ally and equal rather than his Queen.  The TV show depicts Dany’s downfall as being almost entirely psychological in origin; mostly stemming from Northerners “loving” Jon/Aegon more and also Jon’s  own ambivalence about their  sexual relationship.   Whether her deterioration had anything to do with the Targaryen madness is not answered definitively; instead the audience is left contemplating the possibility that Jon could have done something to mollify her before it was too late.  

Some viewers saw Jon’s bending the knee as a betrayal of the North and the Starks after they entrusted him with the title of King in the North.  We see in the first episode of season eight that Jon has already lost some support in the North when Sansa reads him a scroll from Lord Glover.  Sansa and Arya, however (and perhaps inexplicably), don’t appear to to overtly think of Jon’s relinquishment as a betrayal so much as an unwise decision that they must at least temporarily accept.  After the Night King is defeated and Jon prepares to march South, they tell him that they don’t trust Dany, but to no avail.

There’s no doubt that the nuances of Jon’s relationship with Dany at this crucial juncture are not well depicted.  Although many fans of the show were thrilled to see these two characters fall for each other, others were shocked that Jon gave up his crown when he didn’t have to.  His decision seemed ill-fated and unwise in the same way Robb’s decision to break his promise to to Walder Frey did in an earlier season.  Both decisions by the Kings in the North had catastrophic consequences and made the North as a power appear to be weak and fickle.  One can only assume this is deliberate on the part of Martin.  Only Sansa appears steadfast in her devotion to the cause of Northern Independence as she is left to try and clean up Jon’s mistakes.   Unfortunately, we don’t get to see Jon’s answer When Sansa asks him why he bent the knee, but the explanations of Jon’s that we do witness are centered around the necessity of  having Dany’s armies and dragons.

Dany herself, up until she learns about Jon’s true identity, seems to believe that she came North primarily out of love for Jon.  She says as much to Sansa, even though the loss of Viserion must also have factored into her decision.  In return, Jon’s having pledged himself to her assures that he will stand with her against Cersei.

Who Manipulated Whom?

This is the question Dany asks Sansa during their only conversation about Jon. Here Dany is trying to cast  herself in the best possible light by implying that she acted selflessly in order to help Jon and the North.  Sansa is skeptical of Dany and Jon’s relationship for more than one reason.  Of central concern is the past treatment of the Starks by the Mad King, which can’t easily be set aside by Northerners.  But what seems most disturbing to Sansa is that Jon has knelt.  Back in season six Sansa and Jon listened as Lord Glover harangued them about Robb’s costly decision to marry for love.  Sansa is now afraid that Jon has made a similar rash decision by bending the knee and thereby subjugating the North to a Targaryen.  

In what way does Sansa suspect Jon is being manipulated?

Obviously, she suspects that Jon has been seduced.  She says as much when she remarks to Jon that Dany is much prettier than her father.  Sansa would naturally suspect that Dany was using Jon in order to gain the North, but would also be thinking about how Robb’s passion for Talisa had disastrous consequences.  The audience doesn’t get to see very much of Jon’s reasoning process about why Dany would be “good”.  Most of his rejoinders to others are simply about reassuring them of her “goodness.”   This is about all that Sansa has to go on, so she is left to think that Jon, like Robb is being ruled by sexual passion.

Jon’s other argument about Dany is that her Dragons and forces are essential for the battle against the Night King.  This reason is much more fact-based, and therefore appears to be accepted as true by the Starks and others.  What is more difficult for Sansa and Arya to accept is that the North will again be subjugated and that Jon threw his crown away for love.

All in all, the idea that either Jon or Dany was manipulating the other doesn’t seem to hold much water.  Dany’s remark to Sansa was probably an attempt to turn the tables on her and get the upper hand.  While Jon definitely wanted Dany to fight with him; the beginning of their liaison looked to be voluntary on both sides, with Jon willingly giving up his crown and Dany pledging to fight before he even did so. 

Jon and Dany’s Relationship Turns Toxic

The turning point in their relationship comes early in season eight once Jon learns that he is a Targaryen.  For good measure, Samwell Tarley drives home the point that Jon is the “True King”.  We, the audience really didn’t get to see Jon’s identity crisis, only his attempt to unify the Starks and the Targaryens by asserting to Dany that “we can live together”.  Jon’s hope that this might actually have happened is another example of his idealism; whereas Dany correctly  predicted what Sansa would do with the explosive information about Jon’s true identity.

The abbreviated number of episodes in season eight and the emphasis on spectacle left many questions unanswered. But after the Battle for Winterfell and Jon’s disclosure to Dany, the series focuses on the disintegration of their relationship.  From their prospective sides, Dany is concerned about Jon now being a rival for the throne, and Jon is disturbed by the incestuous nature of their liaison.  Jon’s reaction and feelings about incest are largely glossed over on the show, and Jon’s sisters seem to be strangely unconcerned about it.  But  deleted lines from The Bells indicate that Dany senses Jon feels “disgusted.”

Dany’s feelings of jealousy about Jon’s hero status in the North (compared to her chilly reception there), and Jon’s doubts about the appropriateness of their relationship is the subtext for the scene in episode five (The Last of the Starks), which shows Jon groveling in order to convince Dany that he doesn’t want the crown.  This scene is disturbing on many levels and seems to reveal the faulty foundation of their “love.”  Dany is entirely unconcerned about what Jon is going through and begs him to keep his identity secret.  In spite of his misgivings about their sexual relationship, Jon’s instinct is to think that his two “families” can live together.  Given Sansa and Dany’s dislike for one another, this seems very naive on his part and makes one wonder whether the entire basis for Jon’s capitulation to Dany is naivete.  But to be fair, Jon is not the only one who has been taken in.

No doubt this is one of the deeper themes intended for Game of Thrones - the possible catastrophic consequences of being swept up in a political movement with a charismatic leader.  

The Meaning of Jon’s Ending in Season Eight

For many viewers, the central mystery about Jon in season eight is the disconcerting nature and therefore ambiguous meaning of his ending.  He does not get fulfillment in love, does not become a hero (at least in the conventional sense), does not become King, and is separated from the family that he saved.  His ideals are shattered once again as he learns that the woman in whom he placed his faith and loyalty was proven to be deeply unworthy and a threat to the entire world.  He appears to be riding into obscurity in the conclusion, perhaps never to be heard from again.

Whether this ending is meant to represent a triumph of the Old Gods in a way that Jon does not understand (making him a pawn of larger forces), or just a subversion of his (and viewer’s) ideals, it is impossible to not think Jon has been left broken and disillusioned once again.  He does, however, pick up Longclaw and ride North with what is left of a people that he protected and who idolize him.  This, of course, suggests that he has found a reason to go forward.  His future stature in Westeros is likely to be legendary because of his past feats, his resurrection, and by virtue of his having killed the Dragon Queen. He is a King without a crown who will no doubt continue to capture the popular imagination and whose legend will only grow going forward.

Jon Snow - If there was a Season Nine his Legend would only Grow ( Photo HBO)

[redandfranticfeelings]

okay ive been wanting to make a post like this for a while but i wanted to make it an essay and i dont know if i can really organize my thoughts in that way yet, so here’s a chronological bullet-pointed dump to explain my very important thesis:

be more chill is about internalized ableism, and jeremy, michael, and christine are all highly autistic coded. this is going to be very long and detailed but only because there’s a lot of details that work very well under this lens.

there’s probably even stuff i missed but this is already extremely long so it basically just functions as a way for me to collect a bunch of details that i can piece together later in a more coherent manner.

“more than survive” in the context of jeremy being autistic works so much. the theme of wanting to be just socially acceptable enough to not burn out or be harassed is so relatable, and it visually establishes very early how jeremy is isolated from his peers due to his own awkward behavior and hypersensitivity. it’s coupled with his very obvious anxiety disorder, but the social aspect just screams autistic coding to me. i take this song to basically be “not having a meltdown is basically my goal but i would love to be neurotypical enough so i can heighten my standards and actually enjoy my social life.” some choice segments:

“if i’m not feeling weird or super strange, my life would be in utter disarray, cuz freaking out is my okay”

jeremy’s house being a mess is partly due to his dad’s serious depression, yeah, but i believe the other aspect is that jeremy’s executive dysfunction makes it just as hard to clean up in his place

he gets super anxious at the prospect of his expected routine being shaken up and having to make the decision on his own of how to get to school

“so i follow my own rules and i use them as my tools to stay alive” honestly sounds like a euphemism for autism to me

jeremy not really realizing that he’s staring at chloe

“avoiding any eye contact at all” explains itself

michael’s introduction, oh my god, every time i watch this part i just adore it. i could talk a lot more about michael’s autism later but this whole segment sells it especially.

first off, michael keeping his hood up and headphones on in a deliberate attempt to avoid social interaction and stay in his own space is such an autistic mood. even before this scene he’s constantly moving in the background to his music a la stimming. in the later performances he spends a lot more time playing with his hoodie strings and even chews on them!!

the fact he doesn’t talk to or even really look at jeremy until his song is done playing also feels very autistic to me! and the way he dances so confidently and basically pretends even his best friend isn’t there for the time being because he’s engrossed in his own passions.

michael is a great friend but it’s clear that he doesn’t really understand that his coping mechanism doesn’t really work for jeremy, and that even though michael feels confident reclaiming his identity as a ‘loser,’ jeremy doesn’t really feel any better about it. i think a lot of autistic folks, or at least i do, have this tendency to assume what works for us works for everyone around us at first due to our struggles with empathy. michael tries his best but struggles to see outside his point of view. it’s mind-blindness in action and jeremy can’t communicate why it upsets him any better than michael can pick up on it not working for him.

near the end of the song, they have a brief moment where all the ensemble crowds in around jeremy and the lights start flashing, which i interpret as a visual representation of sensory overload.

we’ll talk more about her soon, but outside of jeremy’s fantasies about her, christine also avoids social interaction during this number, constantly hiding her face in a book and avoiding eye contact just as much as jeremy. people forget that she’s not comfortable with unexpected social interaction, and that really informs my headcanon for her which brings us to....

“i love play rehearsal” is an autistic anthem. it also works, possibly even better due to in-text evidence, as an adhd anthem, but combined with the above it makes so much sense for her to be comorbid autism/adhd. i did a breakdown of the song in this context before, but i’ll sum it up here

the song showcases what having a special interest/hyperfixation is like. christine is singing to jeremy, yes, but she really seems so caught up in her own passion without much regard for how jeremy is following it, and even cuts him off from responding to her once or twice because she’s just so hyped up on her own feelings. she also basically implies her happiness is reliant on her special interest which is very relatable.

lines like “you follow a script so you know what comes next” also really sell the interpretation that christine isn’t good in unpredictable situations, and has so many identity issues and likes having something to look to where things are laid out for her. i think that stability is what a lot of autistic people look for, especially teenagers.

also with that in mind, look at how upset she gets watching a play she loves about get rewritten into something weird and new that she doesn’t know.

also gotta love how she still self-isolates before this song by focusing on her book, until she has a reason to infodump to jeremy. and then feels guilty afterwards and goes right back into her book while apologizing for getting “carried away”....biiiig mood there

the whole intro scene showcases both of their awkwardness so much. jeremy gets completely thrown off by her sarcastic comment about the swim team and almost believes it, which implies that he can’t read tone very well. and then christine’s “you’re a virgin” comment comes across like she really didn’t think about how that would sound to jeremy before saying it since she only made the clarification after he was ready to panic about it. she has a habit of speaking before she thinks, i think, the self-harm comment is also very awkward considering she barely knows jeremy.

after that scene we get “more than survive reprise” where jeremy admits to routinely having such bad breakdowns that he needs to step out and go to the nurse which works for both the anxiety disorder and the autism interpretation.

i’m not quite sure whether i see rich as autistic (i see him with a lot of mental issues for sure though) so i can’t say much on “the squip song” but there’s definitely something to describing a confused autistic kid as “almost helpless.” rich definitely has a habit of giving too much information though, i’ll say that.

“two player game” is just jeremy and michael being autistic solidarity: the song. i guess this is a good place to say that jeremy and michael work well as a contrast b/w two sides of autistic community, the side that struggles to function and desperately wants a change bc they’re afraid of being alone forever, and the side that tries to love all their symptoms and embrace their autistic pride. and as coincidental icing on the cake, jeremy wears blue (associated with the derogatory views from autism speaks) and michael wears red (associated with combating said views through autistic pride).

btw you could probably attribute michael’s ability to casually down a long-expired crystal pepsi as a sort of weird sensory quirk. and his fixation w/ that sort of memorabilia honestly feels like a special interest in its own right!

both “nice sideburns....wolverine, right” and “like in x-men????” using fiction as a reference point for real life always gives me autistic vibes (esp the first point where he awkwardly uses it to start conversation). can we assume x-men is a special interest? :3

jake referring to jeremy as a ‘freak’ when the squip turns on is really sad in this context but it also does make so much sense

now we get to the squip.....and what do you know, it uses tactics from abusive therapy used on autistic children. dare i say that “be more chill” as a song isn’t just an abuser’s song, but an ableist’s abuser’s song.

first off, the “spinal stimulation.” here’s a not so fun fact: electroshock therapy has been used to discourage autistic behavior in very recent years. (content warning in link for graphic description of ableist torture)

then the lyrics, in which the squip mostly focuses on jeremy’s posture and physically punishes him for disobeying. jeremy is shown to really struggle to stand up straight and pose himself in a normal, confident way, and i think that tendency to be unaware of what our body is doing is a pretty autistic thing?

the fact the squip singles out stammering and refers to jeremy’s “tics and fidgets” brings attention to two more autistic traits of jeremy’s

the squip basically punishes jeremy for responding “incorrectly” to social situations like rejecting brooke, even if they aren’t objectively wrong. it eventually just starts speaking for jeremy because jeremy seems incapable of acting natural. the squip is an abusive autism parent.

“sync up” demonstrates jeremy’s weird relationship with empathy. he wants to be nice to everyone- will has even called him “deeply empathetic”- but he’s initially really bad at seeing other people’s point of view, which is why he positions himself as sort of against the world, seeing everyone as better than him or trying to set up these barriers of Coolness where everyone else must be perfect compared to him. he’s so surprised to learn that the popular kids also hurt because of his strict idea of the social structure. it’s a combination of low self esteem and a black-and-white viewpoint.

let’s go back to christine. the squip, already established as ableist abuser, finds her “highly unusual” for acting in a way that disregards everyone who views her. she has very strange and specific visions in her head, and it seems very natural for her even if jeremy struggles to follow along.

in later performances, she chews on her sleeve and spins around during AGTIKBI. that’s stimming, babes. also gotta acknowledge “i don’t always relate to other people my age, except when i’m on the stage”

i’m gonna use this section to talk about jake and christine. christineis a bit unsure when interacting with jake, until he validates her interest- her acting is what really touches him. but jake, while good-hearted, has trouble being self-centered and thus not fully aware of christine’s own needs and space. so christine is always a little uncomfortable around him, especially in public, and not always willing to socialize. he is right about her being kind of stuck in her comfort zone, though, not doing anything off of her stage. and he is genuinely nice to her, it’s just a matter of their social strategies clashing.

the fact that the squip blocks out michael...i’ve had a lot of times in my life where i was told that socializing with other “weird” people would be counterproductive for my social development and it was part of why i was stuck with so few friends. so i really feel the idea that blocking out the person who helps you feel confident in your atypicality is framed as a good thing so you can act more socially adept, and that doing otherwise would just drag you both down.

hot DAMN does “loser geek whatever” make so much sense for an autistic kid with internalized ableism.

“it’s not only school that’s rough, being lonely’s stupid tough” makes it pretty clear this isn’t about the school social scene as muc as it is the entire social scene of the world. we may not see it, but it’s just (not) interacting with people in general that jeremy can’t stand.

“michael says that weird is rad but feeling weird just makes me sad” as stated above, makes a Lot More Sense with the idea that michael is both a more confident autistic and really bad at addressing jeremy’s own internalized ableism and desire to make connections outside his small friend group.

everything about jeremy boiling down all his problems to his “instincts” sucking and needing to basically be told what to do really highlights how autistic kids can feel broken because of their inability to fit into the social norm, to the point where we repress every behavior that actually makes us feel comfortable and unique. 

not to mention the line about him being seen as a “normal handsome guy” since autistic people tend to be infantilized and never seen as desirable (will roland also implied this line has trans coding which is another discussion altogether but i feel i should acknowledge that here)

all of those terms that jeremy calls himself near the end- namely weirdo, misfit, oddball, freak, failure- all of this sounds like the shit people throw at autistic kids. like this goes beyond anxiety alone, this is jeremy being outcasted and oppressed by the general public due to his behavior. especially the “please don’t speak” part, considering how often autistic kids are mocked for misunderstanding when to speak, how to speak, and what to talk about. jeremy needs some freaking love. :(

“michael in the bathroom” is a panic attack, related to severe anxiety, but i do see a lot of aspects that play into autism as well. the little nervous stimmy movements of foot-bouncing and picking at grout, the explosive sensory overload during the “knock knock” section of the bridge, the whole concept of losing the only person you ever managed to connect to without sacrificing who you are, dealing with this massive change to your sense of philosophy and reality where you pinned everything on one person to ground yourself, and thus you’re now completely lost trying to isolate yourself from this big overwhelming social gathering...neurodivergent anthem all around.

jeremy and christine’s couch interactions during halloween give me such autistic positivity. christine basically echolales jeremy’s weird noise and they both have so much fun vocal stimming that they forget there’s another person in the room. it’s such a sweet moment until jeremy ruins it by realizing that asking her out right after a breakup is Not Really Good For Her.

christine’s reaction to the fire demonstrates a clear case of hyperempathy to me. it isn’t discussed as much as a complete lack of empathy, but autistic folks are prone to feeling way too much especially when it comes to others’ pain. christine talking about how she hates that everyone’s hurting and desperately wants to help but doesn’t know how, and how we’ve already seen how much she struggles to connect with others like jake....it’s a very relatable, very specific autistic mood.

going back to the theme of jeremy and empathy, christine’s above hyperempathy kind of breaks this mold, and while jeremy always does feel for the other kids, by this point he feels so strongly- particularly for christine, who he also saw as a perfect confident being until now- that the squip can manipulate him into “fixing” everyone the same way the squip was supposed to “fix” him. and he never considers that christine doesn’t need to be fixed because he just projects his own insecurity that strongly onto everyone else who seems “weird” in the same kind of way- hence why he assumes michael is jealous of him back in MITB. it’s likely a result of the squip’s manipulation but i feel like mind-blindness is a factor, even if jeremy switches between struggling to process others’ emotions and being extremely empathetic.

michael’s special interest saves the day!!! :D

the whole fight b/w jeremy and michael, assuming it comes from a genuine place of repressed bitterness, has a lot of added subtext with them both being autistic. jeremy accusing michael of “giving up” on social interaction, michael envies jeremy for trying bc michael is clearly Not comfortable in most large social settings, jeremy envies michael for his pride, it just hits home for me i guess

rich calling michael “antisocial headphones kid” honestly how is michael not canon autistic

in the off-bway version michael briefly speaks too loud forgetting that jeremy’s head still hurts which is a relatable Forgot About Boundaries thing. plus him smacking rich playfully forgetting that rich is Still In Pain

“voices in my head” works nice as a fuck-societal-norms-and-just-be-happy song. “embrace the traits that make you so odd” in particular :’)

jeremy remembering christine’s infodump about her obscure bowling alley performance art idea and bringing it up to her again!!!

the squip doesn’t go away because ableism and the anxiety it brings and all the upsetting symptoms of autism don’t go away, but with the right support and confidence you can live with them!!! good message for mental disorders in general and works very well in this context!!!

so in conclusion.....be more chill is autistic pride!!!

[fameplagued]

❛ harry styles, 21, cismale, he/him ❜ was that EZRA WARD i just saw hurrying across the quad? you’d think they would know what happens when a JUNIOR is late to class. then again, the MUSIC MAJOR has been known to be pretty HEDONISTIC. maybe being so CHARISMATIC helps keep them out of trouble. i heard they aren’t an angel, though, and that they are BISEXUAL and love RISKY/PUBLIC SEX + MAKING AMATEUR PORN. 

ayyye friends, i’m happy to be here! i’m g, here to introduce my ugly son, he’s a mix of a few different characters i’ve played before but never quite like this so i’m hype :~) 

VISAGE: HARRY STYLES (MOSTLY CIRCA LATE 2014 & 2015 bc long hair)

VOICE-CLAIM (SPEAKING ACCENT & SINGING): HARRY STYLES

OTHER KINKS: CHOKING, ORGASM CONTROL/DENIAL, BEGGING, WORSHIP (REC)(GIV), PUNISHMENT + REWARD, ANAL, SPANKING, MARKING, BITING, HAIR PULLING, RIMMING (REC)(GIV), DADDY KINK, SIZE DIFFERENCE, VOYEURISM,  CLOTHES ON, GROUP SEX, SEXUAL PAIN, ORDERS (REC)(GIV), 

(ASK ABOUT OTHERS)

CANON TATTOOS (*MOSTLY)

born / raised just outside of manchester, england. comes from a wealthy yet extremely neglectful upbringing. his mother is english, his father is american, meaning since he was born in england, he’s of of dual citizenship. his family moved to his father’s home state of pennsylvania when he was 14, which is when he first starter his youtube channel

ok so a big thing is that ezra’s slow but currently steady rise to fame within the music industry has been alarmingly quick and that fact has shaped a lot of his personality; think justin bieber or shawn mendes with their gaining an initial fanbase and then a loyal following via starting out on youtube / other social media outlets as a young teenager, only with a much messier, Rockstar™ persona and you have ezra ward

there’s a pretty distinct difference between the version of himself that much of his dedicated fanbase perceptions are based on, and the Real Him. in the media he’s gradually becoming more of a household name for being a musician with a mostly positive message, an inclusive fanbase, a charming personality and being an all around humble, approachable, likable young guy

in his personal life, things are a bit,, different. he’s a hedonist, through and through, in that his pursuit of pleasure ranks far above everything else on his priority list. he’s also extremely sybaritic meaning crazy self indulgent when it comes to luxury, and in his late teens when he had the world at his fingertips, it was all about having the Best everything (mini bars, expensive cars, the good champagne, n private planes- ok i’ll shut up now no one needs my bad 1d references rn)

so basically he spent ages 17-19 as a touring musician after forming a backing band built of some his closest friends from high school, all the while earning his associates in arts in music through an online program; balancing social media as a full time job, getting to perform live in any kind of larger capacity, and still doing well in college posed quite a challenge, especially as he became more focused on the rockstar lifestyle and less on school

still, he never stopped wanting to learn as much as he possibly could about music, determined to become a master of his craft, so he earned his degree and kept hungry for knowledge. after a near-overdose the summer after he turned 19 however, his parents and their what felt to him like faux-concern at the time eventually talked him into putting touring and gaining celebrity status on the back burner for a while

in exchange for a proposed change in habits and lifestyle, they offered to pay for him to apply for and attend the prestigious university of his choice so he could get his bachelor’s degree in music theory, something he agreed to after heavy deliberation, and only after he had a personal realization about just how much the limelight was getting to him, the brighter it became did he decide it was for the best that he stepped back from it to focus on school

choosing college over touring /  growing the band’s popularity cost him a few members of his backing band / friends who had no interest in ‘waiting around for him to finish getting some stupid degree’ and went on to pursue other projects, which meant he no longer had the same support system in that group of friends that he’d become so used to, and that lead him to seek out a new one almost as soon as he was enrolled at northridge as a freshman: he immediately pledged omega pi  (bc we all know what a frat boy harry looked like at 19, hello, i’m not passing that up), finding that he fit right in with its reputation for being full of guys who were heavily focused on partying, and now that he’s a junior he’s in charge of marketing & recruitment :~)

his appetite for pleasure & luxury coupled with still considering himself a rich, successful musician and just being an incredibly sexually fueled person in general makes for a really delicious and dangerous mix ngl and so far in his 21 short years he’s lived a pretty Wildt life, even while at college

he hasn’t released anything music-wise for the couple of years he’s been at university, but he wants 22 (he turns that soon hi he’s an aquarius ass bitch) to be the year that changes, where he delves back into it and truly becomes the artist he was ~destined to be~ or whateva

frequently considers whether or not he made the right choice in essentially choosing college over being an artist / celebrity for the time being, and wonders if dropping out would be the better option (esp bc he thinks he only has so much Time anyway, more info below), but always talks himself out of it

is Firmly Set on the idea he’s going to be part of the 27 club (my boi is already almost 22 like :/ excuse u sir, snap out of that? someone give him a reason to live lmfao no i’m kidding i promise)

has an underlying hopelessly romantic side / has had a lot of either toxic or very intense relationships / has hurt & been hurt by a lot of people, so he has an extreme aversion to emotional attachment and falling in love / prefers casual sex / thinks he’ll never have a long term relationship again (yikes ik like hi get some therapy babe)

he’s reckless, impulsive, can be incredibly domineering, drinks too much, fucks too much (if that’s possible), and (drugs tw) does way too much coke for fun and too much adderall for studying, definitely every bit the ~tortured artist~ even though most of his issues are rooted in like, mommy/daddy issues and (homophobia tw) knowing his parents wouldn’t accept or support him any longer if they knew that he was bisexual

to sum it all up, he’s here for a good time, not a long time, and while he is here, he wants to learn all that he possibly can about music because to him it’s basically the meaning of life ok

that’s?? pretty much all i have for now, i will probably update this again at some point but i don’t want to make it too long because i definitely want to develop him within this group as i go along and besides it was just TIME for me to get something up

i’ll have a connections page up soon but some ideas off the top of my head are: best friends (platonic or otherwise), fwb, exes on good or bad terms, someone who also grew up in pennsylvania / maybe knows him from high school?, enemies w/ benefits, hookups via sorority/frat parties, professors he’s earned ~extra credit~ with or whateva, someone who was a fan before he came to northridge but now they lowkey hate him, someone who’s still a fan, fwb ft. one-sided crush, classmates, etc ! 

[davidmann95]

Velvet's battle is a great choice, though I'll always have a special place in my heart for the fight against the Grimm Deathstalker and the Nevermore in Episode 8. That said, what do you think of the individual members of Team RWBY?

I decided to wait on this until I caught up on the series thus far, which I just finished doing the night before last in pretty much the only time in my life I’ve ever really properly binged anything other than comics, and…wow. I knew RWBY was a thing just as a matter of course from being on this site and Youtube, and from watching Death Battle, so I picked up some major beats by osmosis. But my main impression was that it was a charming pseudo-anime online thing of decent quality that unsurprisingly got heavier as it went along as such things tend to do, with extremely rad fights and music along the way; figured it’d be more than serviceable to watch while I was on the treadmill as a disposable distraction from the agony of propelling my wheezing, sweating, loathsome meat-scaffolding forward.

I did *not* expect it to eventually end up after growing pains a - while far from flawless - intensely engrossing story of all-consuming personal and generational pain and people who choose to love and do the right thing in defiance of that trauma and loss and hopelessness, where also occasionally a corgi gets fastball specialed at mechas. Though once it became clear that’s what it is, it pretty clearly sat at an intersection of a hell of a lot of my favorite things, especially when characters copped in-universe in both the main series and spinoff material that this is basically a superhero thing. My initial impressions re: the fights and music were on-point though.

I actually have quite a few thoughts on pretty much all the protagonists of note at this point (other than I suppose Oscar and Maria. Like them both though, and I do hope that nice boy’s brain somehow doesn’t dissolve into the blender of Ozpin’s subconscious), but I’ll just stick with the core four here as requested for now unless someone asks otherwise. Weiss is the simplest to get at the core of, I’d say: her arc is learning that fuck rich people, actually. She’s a seriously difficult character to get onboard for at first - especially if you’re watching those first episodes for the first time in 2019 - as the mean unconsciously racist rich girl who learns to be less mean and racist but still kinda mean. But after you’ve extensively seen the hideously toxic environment she grew up in, and fully understand her efforts to grow past the empty values it inculcated in her in favor of everything she was raised to think of herself as above, she becomes a hell of a figure to root for. Assuming RWBY is gonna go, say, a respectable 10 seasons given it was just renewed through 9, I could easily see the upcoming 7th be the climax of her arc with her return to Atlas and likely further reckoning with the consequences of her families’ actions beyond how they’ve hurt her personally.

Yang is also, in a certain abstract narrative sense, simple, in that she’s built around the very oldest trick in the book for characters whose main deal is ‘can punch better than absolutely anyone’: give them problems that cannot be solved by punching. Except in her case it’s less a material “well, this person is invulnerable to punching!” or “well, actually this other person can punch most best of all” issue blocking her path than “punching cannot solve depression, abandonment issues, questioning whether what she considers her purpose in life is one she’s truly pursuing for noble reasons or if she even has the resolve for it anymore after what’s happened to her, or PTSD”. Yet, while it may not be the kind that manifests in the form of punching people with a smirk and a bad pun anymore (much as she still definitely does that all the time) what ultimately drives her and defines her is still her strength: to move forward, to forgive, to let go, to do the right thing in spite of the risks. Which could easily come off as some unpleasant “you just have to get over your moping!” dismissal - there’s a bit with her dad that means it saddles riiiiight up to the edge of that - but there’s a weight to how her traumas remain a consistent factor in her life and have shaped her outlook even as her circumstances and day-to-day disposition improve that makes it feel thematically like it’s coming from a place of acknowledgment and endurance rather than denial, even if it’s not handled perfectly. Great to see her apparently recapturing some more of her joie de vivre based on the trailer for Volume 7, and how that’ll interact with how she’s grown should be interesting.

Blake is…tough, because you fundamentally cannot talk about Blake without getting into the Faunus, which is maybe the biggest aspect of RWBY that leaves it in the realm of Problematic Fave. It really, really wants to have something substantial to say about the proper response to racism, and every now and then it pumps out a “capitalism greases the wheels of systemic oppression and vice-versa” or “it’s perfectly reasonable for the oppressed to seek to fight back directly against their oppressors, and even the pacifist in the room can recognize that’s a defensible approach that deserves its place”. But then Abusive Boyfriend Magneto literally murders nuance in Vol. 5 episode 2, and it descends into some borderline “but what about black on black violence” respectability politics shit. It’s the classic X-Men setup - this persecuted race of often superpowered folks torn between pacifism and efforts to prove themselves to their oppressors, and those who think they should rise up and annihilate the flatscans - with most of the same pitfalls, but also we haven’t had over 50 years to get used to that just being how it works here, and it doesn’t have the excuse of having to expand as best it can on a metaphor that was originally devised before most of the people currently handling it were born. All of which would be rough enough, but given I watched this right as Jonathan Hickman’s been completely refining the entire X-Men paradigm outside that outdated binary, it especially grates. I’d love to be directed to any solid counterarguments - I’ve heard it might actually be an analogue, and a well-done one, for The Troubles, which I am one million percent unqualified to evaluate - especially since apparently one of the writers grew up in a mixed-race household, and at the end of the day I’m a white guy who may well be talking completely out his ass. But it sure comes off at a glance as some well-intentioned dudes stumbling through stuff that’s not their business, and that’s inextricable from Blake’s character when so much of her story is her navigating through that metaphor. Hopefully with new writers coming onboard this is something that can be navigated more insightfully in the future.

On a purely personal basis however, Blake’s a standout in terms of relatability when her story comes down to a pretty universal shared horror: how to climb back from having fucked up. She tried really hard to do the right thing, was taken advantage of and led into doing things she eventually realized were wrong, was so shaken that she couldn’t tell who to trust, and then the situation spiraled out of control on every possible front just as things finally seemed to be stabilizing. The way a single mistake - enabled and exacerbated by an abusive past relationship in her case - expands into a self-loathing far beyond the bounds of anything she could possibly be responsible for is brutal and completely understandable, and seeing her start put her self-esteem back together with the help of those closest to her and the power of her original convictions is arguably the single strongest, most clearly conveyed individual character arc in the series. I’m very curious where it goes from here: Adam’s finish represents a logical climax and the setup for a happily-ever-after with Yang (or Sun if they end up going that way after all) for her to coast through the remainder of the series on, but the way emotional consequences have played out in the series thus far I doubt her demons are going to be put to bed that simply.

Finally there’s Ruby, and I am contractually obligated to note up front: she is clearly not a Superman analogue. There is precisely zero percent chance that she was conceived as such or was ever deliberately executed in such a way that mirroring him was kept in mind. Though she IS a super-powered idealist raised in the middle of nowhere with a significant deceased parent who wears a red cape, flies, gives inspiring rallying speeches, has black-ish but primary color-tinted hair, and has a mysterious birthright that involves being able to shoot lasers from her eyes, plus she has a dog who also essentially has superpowers, plus she tells someone they’re stronger than they think they are, plus Yang basically quotes a bit from Kingdom Come regarding her in Rest and Resolutions. But it probably goes a ways in explaining why she works so well for me.

There’s more to it than that of course, though it does bring up the closest way in which she relates to the superhero paradigm: she doesn’t go through an arc in quite the same way as the others, instead being an already solidly-defined character who is simply illustrated by how she interacts with the people and situations around her. She learns and grows and matures, but her most basic motivations and goals and outlook haven’t really changed since the day she enrolled at Beacon. She’s a good, caring person, a leader archetype who still has more than enough personality to spare to keep from falling into the genericism that can often plague that role. A big part of the key I believe is that she’s the audience surrogate in a profound way beyond the obvious touchstones of her frequent awkwardness and self-doubt: the reason she does this is because she was inspired by stories. She’s a fan, ultimately, but one who learned all the right lessons, whether recognizing from day one the way reality falls short of the tales she was raised on but still believing in the ideals they represent, or openly holding up Qrow as a role model while being willing to call him on his shit when push comes to shove. It’s a romantic, hopeful perspective that stands out sharply from even our other heroes even as it mirrors their struggles, but as of yet there’s little to suggest it comes from a place of naivete so much as a belief that it’s the only way to bear the pain of the world and continue to believe in it. Bit by bit it’s clear she’s heading for a breaking point, but all signs point to that being a matter of her ability to withstand what she’s been through, rather than any doubt that it’s necessary, and should that time come she’s inspired plenty who’ll be able to help her back onto her feet the way she has for so many others. So while I understand her speeches apparently grate on some, as far as I’m concerned keep them coming, they’re the beating caring heart of the series and often the sole respite in the eye in the storm.

[kalinara]

I know you love Lukey Lou, so I wanted to ask: Why did you like his character arc in TLJ? A lot of people, including myself and Mark Hamill, felt it was poorly written and out of character.

A lot of people who hate TLJ LOVE to pass around Mark Hamill’s extremely out of context quotes about his INITIAL reaction to learning about Luke’s arc.  When he discusses the final product, he is a lot less negative.

But even if he dislikes TLJ, that’s okay, that’s his business.  Death of the Author applies to everyone involved in the creative process, and it’s okay for fans and showrunners/writers/actors to see a character in a different way.

I think though that a lot of critics of Luke’s arc in TLJ miss that it’s just that.  An ARC.  Luke at the beginning of TLJ is not the same person as Luke at the end of TLJ.  He has his own despair and trauma to face.

Luke, in TLJ, doesn’t read all that different from Luke in Legends to me, fundamentally.  It’s just that they’ve faced different things.  There are points in Legends where Luke suffers despair and depression just like he does in TLJ, but there are also other factors going on.  Luke has his order, for one.  And the Yuzhan Vong war.  He has Mara, and Ben (Skywalker), and Jaina.  He has his students and everything else to help him keep from giving in to those emotions.

Luke in TLJ is from a continuity that doesn’t have these things.  He doesn’t have a wife and child.  He doesn’t have his Order.  And Luke has a more personal connection to Kylo’s fall than he had with Jacen’s in Legends.  By the time Jacen had fallen, he’d graduated Jedi training.  He had his own life and issues.  And Jacen never really retaliated (or was the unwitting tool of retaliation) against the Jedi Order itself.  

But as Luke sees it, he’s directly responsible for Kylo’s fall.  He blames himself.  I personally disagree with Luke’s assessment, and I think the Last Jedi does too.  Luke gave in to a moment of weakness and fear.  He had a vision that told him (correctly!) that Kylo was or would become a monster.  A lot of folk hate the idea that Luke would, for one instant, even consider killing his innocent nephew.  But I think they miss or ignore that a) Kylo was a grown adult, not a child, b) the Force vision WAS CORRECT: Kylo DID become a monster that would massacre (multiple!) villages, murder unarmed old men, and be a direct participant in child slavery and genocide, and the most important c) Luke STOPPED HIMSELF.

I don’t personally think it’s out of character for Luke to momentarily give into fear and despair.  If he had ACTUALLY killed Ben Solo, that’d be one thing.  But he didn’t.  He stopped himself.

It’s interesting though to parallel Luke’s reaction to those events with “Ben Solo’s” own, because as much as I’m skeptical of the comic book series’s retcon of Kylo’s responsibility for the destruction of the Jedi Temple.  I do like how it expressly puts Kylo and Luke in the same position.

Ben (a grown adult, I reiterate) wakes up to find his uncle standing over him with a lightsaber.  His uncle doesn’t actually strike, but it’s understandable that Ben lashes out at that moment.  He thinks he killed him.  He’s horrified.  And Palpatine acts.  The Temple is destroyed.

So when you think about it.  Ben and Luke are in EXACTLY the same position in the immediate aftermath of the Temple’s destruction.  As far as I know, neither one of them is aware of Palpatine’s direct role in events.  All both of them know is that they suddenly found themselves in positions causing great fear and anger, they lashed out in said fear and anger against someone that they loved, and as a result everything was destroyed.

Now both characters had the option of going back to Hosnian Prime.  Leia and Han love both characters.  They would have listened to their explanations as to what happened.  They would have been horrified and angry, but they would have forgiven them and focused more on what they could do to help fix things.

But both characters blame themselves for what happened.  And both characters believe that they’ve done something unforgivable.

What’s important though is what happens next.  Now me, personally, I don’t mind the comic retcon because to me, the destruction of the Jedi Temple was always the least of Kylo’s crimes.  It was awful, of course.  But there’s a difference between a sudden act of fear and rage (see also: Anakin’s destruction of the Tuskan village) and the kind of deliberately evil deeds that Kylo Ren does later.

Regardless of whether or not Kylo lashed out and brought down the temple at that moment, he DEFINITELY stood in the middle of Tuanil, looking out at the army he helped to enslave and brainwash, and ordered them to fire on disarmed, pacified civilians.  (If Finn, who was brainwashed and surrounded by commanding officers and comrades who could kill him in a heartbeat, could realize “no, I’m not doing this”, then Kylo, who was GIVING THE ORDER, could have stopped this as well.)

There’s a point where characters have to own their choices.  Even if Kylo didn’t feel like he could go home, he didn’t HAVE to join a organization that’s been enslaving children and planning genocide.  He didn’t HAVE to take part in the violence and murder.  He could have done what Luke did.

Luke went into exile.  And I see fans attack that choice as “cowardly” or “selfish”, but I disagree.  Yes, Luke could have chosen instead to go to Hosnian Prime.  He could have gone to Han and Leia and he didn’t.  He could have tried to hunt down Kylo.  He could have joined in the fight against the First Order.  He could have been a hero here, like he’d been before.  

But we’ve seen what happens when a very powerful man, prone to self-loathing and despair, decides to do the “selfless” thing and become a hero.  That’s the Clone Wars in a nutshell.  What if Anakin had, after Attack of the Clones, looked around and said “Oh my god.  I just lost my mother.  I just massacred a village.  I  can’t be a soldier right now!  I need to deal with the horrible thing I’ve just done!”

We might still have had the Fall of the Republic and Order #66 (Palpatine isn’t one to discard his whole plans), but we probably wouldn’t have had Darth Vader.

And Luke knows that.  He saw what his father became.  And if anything, Luke’s more powerful than Anakin ever was.  Look at what he did on Crait.  We’ve never seen anything like that.  Look at what he can do AS A FORCE GHOST.

Now imagine what THAT would be like on the Dark Side?

I don’t know if I believe that Luke was ever seriously in danger of going Dark Side.  He isn’t prone to externalizing anger and lashing out in the same way Anakin was.  (Leia, I think, might be in more danger of that, depending on circumstances.  But thankfully, Leia has always known how to focus her anger in constructive ways.  She gets that from Padme and Bail.)  But I believe that LUKE believes he was.  And that through his exile, Luke was trying to protect the galaxy.

And that’s the BEGINNING of his story in the Last Jedi.  Because Luke has his own arc there just like Rey and Kylo do.  Luke starts off the Last Jedi in a very bad place: full of despair and self-loathing.  He blames himself for what happened to Kylo.  He’s convinced himself that he had been wrong to try to bring back the Jedi.  (But even then, he’s still preserving the books.)

Folks compare his role to Obi-Wan on Tatooine and Yoda on Dagobah, and I think that’s fair, to an extent.  But there are differences.  Obi-Wan was never in exile.  He was on Tatooine for a purpose.  He ALWAYS meant to teach Luke about his father’s legacy and protect him and train him going forward.   He leaps at the call to go help Leia, and immediately uses that opportunity to sweep Luke along.   

Yoda’s a closer comparison, really.  Since his exile is really an exile.  (Though Rebels shows that he’s not completely inactive.)  But for all that Yoda eventually helps train Luke, his story pretty much ends there.  He doesn’t take an active role after that point.

Even as he trains Rey, Luke has to come to terms with his own very complicated emotions about Kylo Ren, his fall, and the loss of the Jedi Order.  He has to move past his self-loathing and accept that Kylo made his own choices, and that he’s made HIS own choices.  He realizes/remembers that the Jedi are more than just books/old knowledge, they’re people too.  And his “I am not the last Jedi” is a really important moment that a lot of people like to ignore.  (Especially those edgelords who love the idea that TLJ showed us why the Jedi shouldn’t exist, which seriously misses the point of the movie.)

Luke at the end of the movie is not the same person he was at the start.  He’s remembered who he is.  He faces his own failure, and the parts that aren’t his fault.  He reunites with his sister, gets her forgiveness, and goes out to face his nephew without hesitation or self-blame.  He dies, but in the process, he buys them the time they need to escape.  And well, as we’ve seen in Star Wars, becoming one with the Force is not always the end of the story.  :-)

So yes, I like Luke’s arc in the Last Jedi.  It’s hard to watch, because it’s not what I would have wanted for the character.  I don’t like the thought of Luke being unhappy and traumatized, and having lost everything.  But that’s not the end of the story.  Luke at the END of the Last Jedi is everything he was always supposed to be.  He just lost his way a little bit before that.  What matters is that he found his way back.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4307 Chapter: 16/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

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Chapter 16

They were tired and hungry, their bodies sore, both of them bleeding sluggishly from at least three places each, but Tobirama took a mild sort of satisfaction from the fact that Izuna looked utterly ridiculous with his long ponytail drying in to a stiff cast of mud. He tried not to imagine what his own head looked like but, still, no matter how stupid he looked it could not possibly compare with the hard little tail hanging from the back of his partner’s head.

Chakra flared in the distance and Tobirama struggled up from where his body had almost entirely merged with the thick mud cradling them. Loud, wet suction noises announced his movement and Izuna groaned but did not look up to watch him crawl his way over to the entrance of their hiding spot. He’d told his mission partner they were taking shelter in a cave but in reality he had shoved their battered bodies down in to a hollow area he’d found underneath one of the massive redwoods that made up the forest surrounding the capital city. Their dirty little cavern had only one entrance, easily disguised by stuffing it full of branches and leaves, but in the fog of exhaustion and pain Tobirama realized he’d forgotten to conceal their chakra.

“Abandoner,” Izuna mumbled, barely enough energy left to speak let alone work himself up for a proper accusation.

“I’m not leaving,” Tobirama said. “I’m just- do we have anything sharp left?”

“Your needle?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

A minute of digging brought out the needle he’d used to sew Izuna’s wounds shut. Now he turned it around and dug it in to the wood of the tree, carving a chakra dampening seal in to the root closest to the blocked entrance. Honestly he wasn’t sure either of them even had enough chakra left for someone to sense them without standing on their heads but it was better to be safe than sorry.

When his carving was done he let his body slump back down in to the mud again. Dirty and cold it might be but it was also surprisingly comfortable, something that should probably worry him a lot more than it did. If he had more energy for such thoughts he was sure this situation would seem a lot more serious but right at that moment the only pressing matter on his mind was whether or not he could fall asleep yet and whether Izuna would still be alive when he woke up again.

“How much blood do you think you’ve lost?” he asked. Izuna grunted.

“Dunno. Lots. Probably more than a liter.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine. So long as the bleeding is at least slowing down then we should be able to get some rest before we get the fuck out of here.” Tobirama let his eyes fall closed with a heavy sigh.

Squelching noises accompanied by a few irritable grunts almost convinced him to open his eyes again but Izuna fell still again quickly, clearly giving up on whatever he’d been trying to do. Probably roll over. In the silence that followed it was all too easy to let the dim lighting and the heaviness of his limbs work together to pull him down under the veil of consciousness. Tobirama didn’t so much fall asleep as he did pass out with an utter lack of dignity.

He woke again an undetermined amount of time later. By the solid darkness in their hole he supposed it must be night, although he couldn’t have said whether it was that same night or if they had slept for more than twenty-four hours. Either option seemed as likely as the other. A quick internal scan told him that his body hadn’t recovered quite as much as one might hope but he felt a few steps farther away from death’s door and that was a victory at the very least. It did take a bit of extra effort to free his head from the mud cast that had dried around him as he slept but eventually he was able to haul himself up in to a sitting position and look around for Izuna, forming a weak tongue of flame with a single hand sign.

Covered in dirt as they had both been when they crawled in here, he almost thought Izuna had disappeared so well did the man blend in. It was seeing the faintest reflection on the necklace he always wore that differentiated Izuna from the rest of the lumpy mud. Tobirama fought to free the rest of himself from the dried mess and crawled over to shake his brother in law gently.

No response. Whether that was because he was just too tired or too unconscious Tobirama couldn’t say without a medical diagnosis. Too tired himself to think of a better plan, he figured the best thing to do was for them both to get out of here and at least get some fresh air, maybe dunk themselves in a river if he could find one. Surely all the rain that churned up so much mud would have collected in a few pools here and there. For once the heavy fall rains were good for something other than keeping him awake at night. Breaking Izuna out of his earthen cast took a while with so little strength in his arms and Tobirama had to give himself a few minutes rest before dragging the man’s unresponsive body up out of their hole.

If he hadn’t been monitoring Izuna’s chakra for fluctuations with what little he had gained back himself Tobirama would have suspected it was deliberate that the man chose to finally wake up just as he got them both out in to the open air. After all that hard work he couldn’t decide if he was thankful or irritated to see dark eyes fluttering open and cracking the brown film of dirt that had dried over top of them.

“What in all the bloody hells did I drink last night?” was his first question. Tobirama paused.

“Nothing. Which is bad. Dehydration. We need to find water.” Ironic when last night it had dripped from every surface around them. Autumn was such a garbage season.

“Can I go back to sleep?”

Squinting in the darkness, his light gone out since he needed both hands for all that manual labor, Tobirama wondered if his partner had a concussion after yesterday’s battle. “No sleeping. We already slept. We’re going to find water and I’m dunking you in it.”

Amazingly, Izuna failed to argue with him for the first time since they set off on this god-forsaken mission nearly a week before. If he hadn’t been worried about a concussion before he certainly was now. Up until their track and observation mission ended up in an ambush they barely escaped with their lives Izuna had been questioning his every word and choice, sometimes for no viable reason other than that he seemed determined to fan the flames of his own hatred. It was honestly quite tiring to deal with and if Tobirama hadn’t promised himself he would try to make nice they would have come to blows with each other days ago.

Now there was nothing but silence as he sluggishly worked Izuna’s deadweight on to his own back like a meaty knapsack and staggered forward with lumbering steps. Soft breathing ruffled the few strands of hair that weren’t plastered and dried to base of his neck. For the first little while his only clue that Izuna hadn’t fallen unconscious again was the miniscule fluctuations in his barely-there chakra whenever something caught his interest or a misstep caused pain to flare through both of their bodies. Eventually Tobirama realized his own eyes were drooping as well and if he didn’t find something to distract him he might pass out himself, probably sending them both crashing against a tree.

He didn’t really want to talk about this disaster of a mission, though. The less time spent thinking about yesterday’s ambush the better. Which, of course, left him with very few conversation options so it was no surprise that he turned first to the only thing they seemed to have in common.

“What was he like as a child?”

“Nn?”

“Madara. What was he like when you two were young?”

Silence dragged on after his question to the point when he began to wonder if Izuna were simply ignoring him. Then finally there came a quiet huff of amusement from beside his ear. “He was a dick. Liked to throw me in the koi pond behind our house whenever I was winning an argument.”

Tobirama smiled, almost surprised he still remembered how to.

“A bully, then?”

“No, not really. He just didn’t like it when I was right because he was older and he thought that made him right all the time. I think…he wanted me to know that he would always protect me but he tried to show that by always knowing more, always being stronger, and as a kid that was just really annoying.” Izuna shifted against his back. Tobirama wondered what he was doing for a moment before he realized the man was laughing quietly.

Eager to know more, he prompted his companion to keep going. “Sounds like he was pretty protective of you.”

“He still is,” Izuna mumbled. “He worries over the smallest papercut, he asks if I’m eating right all the time, he’s always reminding me that I can come talk to him if I ever need to. Yeah he can be grumpy and his social skills could definitely use a bit of polish but I’ve never doubted that he loves me. Not once.”

“That sounds nice,” Tobirama admitted wistfully.

“It is. He is.” After pausing for a minute to think he added in a tone that suggested he had almost forgotten who he was talking to for a minute, “You don’t deserve him.”

Whatever reaction he was waiting for, he didn’t get it. Tobirama had hoped they could stretch out the good will for a little longer but he hadn’t bothered to let his hopes get too high. The half-hearted attack was more than anticipated.

“I think I deserve to be happy just like everyone else, although I would agree with you that I haven’t done as much as I should to earn his good will.”

“Damn straight,” Izuna said. He sounded irritated that he hadn’t been able to start a fight.

“You know he would be much happier if we didn’t scream at each other quite so much.” Although he knew the other couldn’t see him, lifting one of his eyebrows in a pointed expression was like a natural instinct.

“Go fuck yourself,” Izuna retorted almost cheerfully. “He would be happier if he wasn’t trapped with you for the rest of his life. Don’t talk about deserving happiness with me. You want him happy? Then let him go. Let him find someone that he actually wants to be with; then he’ll be happy.”

Tobirama didn’t answer at first. He forced his legs to continue stumbling on while he let his thoughts settle, unsteady beneath their combined weight yet refusing to give in so easily. There had to be some water around here somewhere, his instincts told him that he was close and his instincts had never lied about water, not once in his life. It was easier to think about how nice it would be to finally rid his body of all the dirt crusting his skin rather than what Izuna had said to him, especially so since it was something he had already spent a great deal of time thinking about and he had come to his own conclusions a long time ago.

“It is the tradition of my clan to allow an arranged partnership to seek divorce after five years. If, when that time arrives, Madara still wishes to be free of me then I will not stand in the way of him seeking his own path.” He wondered if he should make that more clear to his husband or if bringing it up would only remind the man of how trapped he was for the time being.

“Wait, seriously? Just like that?”

“Much as you seem to enjoy painting me as the villain, yes. Just like that. This match was made originally to cement our clans together but I don’t think either of our fathers could have anticipated just how well the Senju and the Uchiha would integrate. Give our people less than a year and I don’t think anyone will even remember what it was that kept them together in the first place. Certainly none of them would turn their heads if Madara and I…ended our marriage.” Just saying it made all the deepest parts of his insides ache but he refused to allow his voice to waver.

“Ha! See! I knew you didn’t care about him at all! You just married him because you were told to!”

“Of course I only married him because I was told to! We’d never met!” Tobirama scowled down the forest path ahead of them. “It’s what I grew up expecting to do. That is how things are done in the Senju clan. We’re told who to marry and then we make it work.”

Izuna scoffed. “Disgusting.”

“Just because it’s different doesn’t make it disgusting,” Tobirama snapped back.

Then he snapped his head to the left and barely held in a whine of longing. Water. He could feel the water in that direction. He changed course without even thinking about it.

“Doesn’t matter what you say, I think the whole practice is gross. But whatever. As long as Madara has a way out of this garbage then I guess I can put up with you for a few years.” Izuna sniffed delicately. He sure had a lot of attitude for someone entirely reliant on the person they were sassing.

“How generous of you,” Tobirama ground out.

A few steps later they closed their eyes to let a few low hanging boughs brush over them and then there it was, the most glorious sight either of them had ever set their eyes upon even in such low lighting. It wasn’t a very large stream, not even deep enough to go over their heads if they sat down, but the burbling water was crystal clear and it was perfect for two exhausted men who could barely stand the thought of keeping themselves upright for a second longer.

Tobirama staggered drunkenly as he splashed in to the center and a few new bruises blossomed on his knees when they folded to send him crashing down with Izuna still heavy across his back. A sigh of near ecstasy parted his lips as cool water rushed over him. It was almost more than he could process just to keep them both from lying flat out and drowning themselves in blissful relief. Behind him Izuna groaned and rolled away, the first movement he’d made for himself since waking up. The two of them splashed and rolled and rubbed at all the most important spots until finally they felt less like they were wearing an itchy second skin, more like they were human again.

“I’m alive!” Izuna declared with his usual dramatic flair.

“And I’m thirsty,” Tobirama mumbled. Blithely ignoring the screaming protests of his muscles, he dragged himself a few inches upstream to where their filth hadn’t polluted the water and dunked his head for a long drink, just barely holding in a moan as his parched throat finally received the hydration it had been crying out for.

He wasn’t surprised to see Izuna follow suit, dunking his face for a few long droughts of water. Then the two of them were left sitting upright in the center of a small stream without the energy to pull themselves back out.

“Well now what?” Izuna demanded. Tobirama blinked at their surrounds.

“Think you can shuffle over to the bank? Looks like the angle would make a decent backrest.”

“Hn. I can try. But if I slip under the water and don’t come up I will haunt you for a decade if you let me drown.”

Tobirama snorted even as he began his own awkward shuffling. “Noted.”

After a bit of uncomfortable maneuvering they were able to plant themselves in to semi-reclined positions on opposite sides, facing each other across the burbling stream. Their gazes locked and Tobirama tilted his head to contemplate the similarities between Izuna’s bitchy face and Madara's bitchy face. He was pleased to note that, while there was indeed a resemblance, there was enough details different that he wouldn’t be seeing echoes of Izuna every time he had a disagreement with his own husband.

“What do you even want from him?”

“Hm?” The question didn’t seem to have a connection to anything they’d been talking about but, then again, Tobirama’s mind felt pleasantly emptied by the bath and the drink.

“My brother. What do you want from him? Why can’t you just leave him alone?”

“It’s strange to me that you assume I must have some sort of alternate agenda in my own marriage.”

Rolling his eyes, Izuna scoffed. “Don’t act like this is a real marriage to you.”

“How is it not real?”

“You don’t love each other!”

“But we could,” Tobirama pointed out softly. “And that opportunity is what interests me. We could love each other.” Speaking so openly about this sort of thing with Izuna of all people was about as painful as he would have expected it to be but he forced himself not to flinch away from the subject at hand. Clearly these were things that the man needed to hear.

And just as clearly they were things he didn’t want to hear. His already taught expression tightened even more until he turned his head to mime gagging in to the river. “That’s bullshit. As if my brother could ever love you.”

It took every scrap of self-control Tobirama had in his arsenal not to react in any visible way to one of his greatest fears given voice. He had barely even given himself much time to come to terms with that fear, that he might have made himself a failure of a husband, that he might be so unlovable that a man like Madara could turn him away even after they had come so far and he had put in so much effort. With every day that passed he grew more and more attached in the way he knew a husband was meant to but without the power to crawl inside Madara's mind there was no way for him to tell if those sentiments were returned.

“He won’t love you,” Izuna declared in an icy voice. “I know my brother. He could never fall in love with someone like you.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Tobirama snapped.

“Someone cold! Someone who doesn’t know him like I do! Someone who doesn’t care about him! Or care about anything!” He opened his mouth to keep going but Tobirama had taken about as much abuse as he thought anyone could be expected to take several days ago and now he finally decided that enough was enough.

“I dragged your sorry ass to safety, didn’t I? You talk about me not caring but I’m the only one between us thinking about how our fighting affects the one we’re fighting over! If you had listened to a word I’ve said for the past week you might have noticed that I am trying damn hard to learn about him – but no! How am I supposed to ‘know him like you do’ if you won’t tell me anything? Do you know what I think, you spoiled fucking child? I think you’ve gotten too used to being the most special person in Madara's life and you feel threatened that someone else might come along and dethrone you!” Turning his head, Tobirama spit downstream to show his derision. “Well let me tell you something, princess. That’s stupid. If Madara falls in love with anyone that doesn’t mean he’ll stop loving you. You’re his brother. So get over whatever dumbass complex you have and let him decide what makes him happy!”

Exhaustion settled over him anew in the wake of his outburst. He could hardly remember the last time he’d said so much at one time outside of the meetings when he gave presentations. Even Izuna seemed shocked in to silence, completely still and staring back at him with both eyes open wide, jaw hanging loose. It was a hilarious and fitting look for his stupid face.

Tobirama lifted both hands out of the water to drag them down his own face. Despite how satisfying it had been to vent all the frustration that had been building over the course of their time together he was more than aware that he had probably just driven an even bigger wedge between them than ever before. Yelling at the brother in law he’d been looking for a way to schmooze definitely wasn’t the way to win himself any forgiveness.

And yet there was something contemplative in Izuna’s silence, a fragile note of tremulous realization. The silence lasted for a long time after Tobirama’s impassioned speech. Neither of them spoke for so long that he actually felt like his body had begun to recover and the current of the river they were still sitting chest deep in had time to work like a gentle massage, rejuvenating him the way falling unconscious for several hours hadn’t. He’d just started thinking about the possibility of moving to find actual shelter where he could bandage both of their wounds properly when Izuna finally spoke again.

“Madara can fall in love with whoever he likes,” he began slowly, “and I won’t try to stop him. It’s my opinion that I don’t think he will ever love you but if I’m wrong then I’m wrong. Just as long as he’s happy.”

“That is all that I hope for as well,” Tobirama said.

“Fine. So here’s the deal. I don’t like you. The way you guys were forced together feels immoral to me and there’s just something about you that always rubs me wrong. But if it’s really stressing him out so much then I guess I’ll just try to visit when you’re not there.”

While that did sort of undermine the point Tobirama was trying to work his way around to he was smart enough not to point that out. Just getting Izuna this far was a greater accomplishment than he’d started to believe was possible and he was no stranger to the concept of quitting while he was still ahead.

“I can live with that much,” he agreed. “We should get out of here. My chakra isn’t quite at the level I need it to be yet so we should probably get some clean bandages on your leg until a medic can see it.”

“Chakra? What are you gonna do, body flicker halfway across the continent?” Izuna snorted.

Smiling to himself as he forced his legs to stand up and wade across the flowing stream, Tobirama hummed agreeably and thought of the new seal he’d been so proud of himself for finally completing. “You would be amazed how far I can reach.”

“Believe it when I see it,” Izuna said.

There wasn’t much he could think of to say in response that wouldn’t cause a fight so instead Tobirama grunted before leaning down to haul Izuna up to his feet. “Carried or walking?”

“Carry me.”

“Lazy.”

“And yet you are going to carry me anyway.”

Tobirama made them both stand face to face so he could say, “My other option is letting you expire here alone in a stream because you are too stubborn to get up and follow.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, quickly turning and ducking down so he could fit the shorter man’s arms over his shoulders and get a solid grip under both knees. Then he stood up and waited for his new burden to shift in to a comfortable position before wading back out of the stream and heading back in to the quiet forest. If not for the distant sounds of wildlife he might actually be a little suspicious of how quiet the woods around them were and how long they had gone without sensing anyone even sort of close by.

Whatever had become of the squad that quite literally ran them in to the ground yesterday, that would have to be a problem for later. For now Tobirama set a course for the brilliant spot on his senses that had to be the capital city and headed out at an easy pace.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Izuna demanded.

“Do you always need something to be complaining about?” he retorted. “Yes. I can feel where the closest dense population is and it’s straight ahead in this direction.”

“Freak. How the hell can you sense that far when you don’t even have enough chakra back yet for a jutsu or something?”

“I was born with my inner eye open, as Hashirama likes to say.” He would have shrugged if not for the weight on his back. Izuna grunted and fell blessedly silent with no more arguments.

Although he had very little trust in the longevity of that silence Tobirama figured he might as well get as far as he could before the bickering started up again. With his gaze set dead ahead and his senses spread out to watch for anyone approaching he let the rest of his mind wander back to Konoha where a warm bed awaited him along with a husband who he could only hope missed him even half as much as he missed Madara.

[thelastarchangelaskblog]

Session 15

Last session we left off right after Zira realized her mother has been looking for her since she was kidnapped by the Horned Crown. This one picks up immediately afterwards!

The entire party was once more present for drama and shenanigans, although @rebaobsessions was sick so Rhodey was mostly communicating through typing today.

 **

(Read more.)

There was some more fallout after the revelation of Zira’s ( @heliocentricgeometric) mother and what it meant for her. She was unsure if she wanted to let her mother know that she was alive and relatively all right.

Zira: I am not the best daughter or the best agent or the best anything.

But multiple people did tell her that her mother would want to know and she is good, so Zira eventually gave the go-ahead.

Zira is super hard on herself and blaming herself for having been kidnapped.

Clint: Don’t be hard on yourself. Would you go back and tell your six-year-old self that?

Helio: DID HE SAY THAT IN CHARACTER? 

DM ( @the-grey-hunt): Yes, because I think it's funny.

We make the decision to check out the abandoned temple of Erathis, since we don’t feel comfortable leaving without investigating it. Before we do so, we go return to collect our weapons. Rhodey really wants his back.

Helio: Is he really Rhodey if he's not a walking armory?

Weapons collected and fully armed, we head to the temple with Clint and Natasha in stow for their supposed lock picking and trap detecting expertise. It’s broad daylight; there are crowds around.

Bob ( @thechaoticwave) rolls high on stealth but it’s the middle of the day and we’re attracting attention. Tony picks the lock on the door in the end with double proficiency because he has tool expertise. (You have no idea how many tool sets he has, guys.)

DM: Is this the same person who gave Tony his fine clothes? He went on a Weekend at Bernie's excursion and now he has 8 tool proficiencies?

In real life, we’re RPing hardcore and having debates and this all means that it’s taking us...

DM: It's been 20 minutes in real life since I told you you were standing in front of the unlocked door that leads to where you're going.

DM: You go inside. It is a room.

We’re all super suspicious and investigating for traps and perceiving danger. To be fair, Zira perceived something super suspicious and shady in a window with a high roll.

DM: 8 people have rolled perception checks. There are only 6 players.

I don’t know what Bob is supposed to be familiar with here but it’s apparently something in the temple.

thechaoticwave: How familiar would Bob be?

DM: None.

We very slowly creep through the temple. I mean, slowly in real life. It’s relatively fast in-game but in real life it’s taking a while. One of us takes the initiative to hurry us along.

Helio: We keep going. I'm sorry to anyone who wants to explore, but if we do, I think our DM will try to kill us!

Finally we end up in the last room of the temple. There’s an altar here, and as we enter the room JARVIS gives an alert. Torches magically light up and the room gets super cold.

We don’t realize what’s happening until we notice a ghost! It’s the tiefling priest who was executed for the kidnapping of the jarl’s daughter.

Veritas is rather adamant it wasn’t their fault and that things aren’t as they seem. They’re super pissed at us disturbing them, too, since they’re stuck in the temple. But they are familiar with the Horned Crown and what happened in the past.

Only...what do we want to do with the cult?

Zira: We're hunting them down. 

Veritas: You can't. 

Zira: I know. I can either die running away or I can die giving them the middle finger.

There are several charisma checks being made since Veritas is trying something funky. JARVIS is still freaking out about the ghost and does not like them.

Zira tries talking to Veritas some more, get them to tell us what’s going on and what happened back then. Veritas is saying they didn’t have a choice, that there was a woman involved who probably threatened them. But they’re not being specific and are complaining about injustice.

And then... Clint miserably fails his charisma save and is possessed! Zira gets shot by an arrow!

We roll initiative!

Helio: For one, I call the ghost a little bitch.

Bob is in dismay by what Clint did with an arrow.

Bob: Fuck damn it, Clint, this is not what I gave them to you for.

Zira doesn’t actually do anything with the arrow for the entirety of the fight. Also we kill the ghost double dead and we don’t know where ghosts go after dying a second time? Only Veritas is super dead now.

Lucky, Clint’s bird, tried to attack us on seeing us attack Clint. JARVIS did a good and pounced on him before he could attack Zira

In the end we’re all a bit upset and pissed at the ghost and everything in Neverwinter and agree to leave as quickly as possible.

We’re given some horses by Theodora Coulson and make it out quickly. While we’re camping, Zira has a conversation with her celestial guide on what she found out.

Zaphkiel is super wise and loving and sensitive to Zira’s doubts and fears.

Zaphkiel: Sometimes the hardest lessons are the ones we need the most.

Zira: Lady Laurelin is getting three kids for the price of one. 

Zaphkiel: That sounds like a good deal to me.

Zira also finds out Zaphkiel is her father. Her biological father.

There’s a fight in Zira’s mindscape on finding this out, during which the third alter - 6 y/o Zee - comes to the front! She’s out and about freely!

Zee: IT'S ZEE TIME. It's my body now!

She’s a bit peeved at how tall the body is and keeps falling over. DJ (doxblogsstuff) finds her like this and realizes this isn’t Zira or 465 but rather someone else he hasn’t met before. Zee is super cheerful and happy to meet him.

Zee: The only reason I'm out right now is because they're fighting and being stupid. Last time I was out I was way shorter, and now I'm all the way up here.

Zee continues being precious and sweet and pronouncing words very deliberately.

DJ gets the rest of the party’s attention and Zee is introduced to Tony! And also Rhodey but reba was absent for this bit until she popped on again a little later.

Zee: That's my sci-en-tif-ic con-clu-sion.

Bob gets the chance to ask Zee what her favorite color is!

Zee: My favorite color is actually ocean color.

Zee sits by the fire and eventually notices JARVIS by Tony.

Zee: Why is your cat shiny and big?

Tony: That's just how he is. 

Zee: Well, I'm big and shiny so I can't judge.

Zee mostly talks to DJ, at least until Zira manages to front again and is absolutely dismayed at what happened. But it’s all good!

We continue traveling to Ankh and are met by a thunderstorm. We make our way indoors to S.H.I.E.L.D., meeting first Agent 13 and then taking the boats through underground rivers before we finally, finally meet...Director Fury!

Tony: He doesn't look as furious as I thought he would. 

Fury: Try me on a bad day.

We’re given some basic information on S.H.I.E.L.D. and asked about our own interest in the Horned Crown and why we want to ally.

Zira: We would get smushed like itty bitty bugs.

Zira: We want to...how do I say this? Fuck the Horned Crown up so bad that they never look at another kid again.

One by one, each of us gives our answer as to whether or not we want to join. Zira is a yes. DJ is a yes. Rhodey is a yes. Luna ( @imagine1117) has questions about what Fury knows about them but is a yes as well. Tony...does not say yes. He doesn’t say no, but he doesn’t say yes. He’s for allying, but not for joining S.H.I.E.L.D. as a lackey.

Bob declines to answer in favor of getting more information.

Fury: If I can be frank.

Bob: I thought you were Fury.

We end the session here with Fury sending us back above ground to talk about this as a group before giving a final answer.

So much happens next session. To the point our DM titled the session notes “Oh Boy Guys.”

[unproduciblesmackdown]

merkleymrack replied to your post “kinda a funny shtick of mine that i’m aro and have such strong takes...”

(1)i agree with u 100%, i think love is hyped up so much, partially because people looove the narrative that love can save you in some way. whether that's saving you from evil, from your shitty environment, from mental illness, from sadness, or from yourself. and that is basically bullshit. "love" as a mystical force and chemical attraction between 2 people doesn't and can't do any of that. real relationships forged over time, based on trust and compromise and a fundamen-

2) tally optimistic outlook on life can help you deal with life, but that's not as snappy. and i think this ties in nicely with what you pointed out about love being perceived as isolating (in a positive way almost) by lots of people: it is because they are co-dependent and attracted to this toxic relationship because it feeds the narrative that "love" is all they need to be happy or to be saved. thats my hot take of the day

talk series criticizing Romahnce, every thursday at 6

for real though let me accuse capitalism some more for Not Great Ideas About Romantic Love b/c like!! that’s basically all you’re allowed to look for in terms of reliable companionship and Any kind of close relationship from your peers. b/c the Nuclear Family is the imposed social unit of choice b/c extended families don’t allow for enough isolation / cut-off support networks......you Outgrow the nuclear family you were born into, and then you’d better find your romantic partner asap to start the next generation nuclear family, because you’re not gonna get other support / community anywhere else, better enjoy having friends before everyone righteously pairs off and sees each other way less, because it’s Totally Fine to have all of your time -> energy -> identity -> existence consumed by just your roles as Parent and Spouse

not to mention like, whenever people of any relationship status are super overworked and like, especially with having unreliable / inconsistent schedules that don’t line up and needing to work a thousand hours a week to scrape by, people have less time to spend with each other and to foster those connections when they’re like always At Work or exhausted and recovering from work or, when they Do have some free time, it doesn’t like up with the free time of their friends’..........like hmm too bad there’s not One Person who is super devoted to Just You and can always make time and prioritize You, Alone.......

Life Under Capitalism is dehumanizing and alienates everyone from each other and doesn’t value life and commodifies anything that people might find adds Value To Their Life and like, our grievances and suffering is just Personal Problems that need to be fixed through our Personal Choices, b/c community is strangled off, isolation is pushed, and you need to Have Money or Die, and there’s the idea that the Way Things Are is flawed but ultimately okay and works out for good people............and it all brings it around to like, the idea that actually Finding Romance is *all* that life is about and is the one route to happiness. like, this concept is just casually trotted out in whatever media as blatantly as that, that “what’s even the point of being alive if you don’t find that Special Someone” and everyone just kinda goes “huh, yeah, that’s true...” like, it’s just Fine to accept that life is a hellscape and you’d want to die if it wasn’t for this one nice magical thing (your true love(tm))......like, maybe there’s a problem with that? we shouldn’t all just accept that life is unbearable but romance is the sole cure? and it’s not even really Anti-Capitalist when a holiday movie / any romcom is all like “this career person thinks that Love is for suckers and only making money is good, but then eventually their romantic interest shows them otherwise and they realize that said romance / a dash of Family is actually what Really matters” b/c it’s just like.......hey don’t be upset that you can’t actually Get Ahead under capitalism!! the people who are making more money than you are unhappy, i promise! it’s fine that you aren’t really succeeding Financially, b/c you have Love, so be happy with that and don’t think that there’s any systemic issue here.

anyways and like yeah of course it does probably seem to people like Romance is the only thing that can improve [insert any bad situation about their lives] because what even else is offered to people, seemingly, right......it’s like, first of all i hope you have a good relationship with your Nuclear Family, b/c they’re the only ones who will be Unconditionally There For You......but even if you do, it’s not like those people can be Everything in your life........and re: friends it’s like, well, i hope you’ve made super lasting friendships in high school and/or college, cuz after you enter The Working World good luck making new friendships!!! even if you do you’ll drift apart b/c nobody has time to nurture the relationship!!!! meanwhile of course everyone should be looking for romance, and hey, that will transform your life and enable you to endure all the other miserable everyday shit you go through, b/c the one person who matters cares about you. and they’d better b/c that’s the only really strong mutually supportive “unconditional” relationship you’re guaranteed! clearly!!!

like of course positive relationships of any kind tend to Improve Someone’s Life......of course isolation makes everything worse for anyone......it’s not like a good romantic relationship SHOULDN’T improve stuff for people, but like, no way should it be the case that romance is the ONE THING available and it better fix fuckin Everything or else you’re on your own when it comes to dealing with those problems that Aren’t improved and if you can’t deal with it on your own you’re fucked, cuz it’s romance or nothing!!!! it would be totally convenient to like, be deeply in love asap and have that make everything amazing and hopefully it’s ur life partner so that you don’t have to worry about Struggling On Your Own like..........a romantic relationship is really all that looks to be on the table according to the Life Narrative that’s pushed really hard. and defining that romance as “this person will always be there for you for Anything and you’ll always be there for them and you’ll always be happy as long as you’re With Each Other” is really Something when life under capitalism guarantees no happiness nor for anyone to be there for you or care about you or help you otherwise

like yeah Friends are nice but they’re kind of sold as the nice optional bonus, or like, they’re there for you but you don’t have to be there for them, low maintenance ideally, and if they drift away when you don’t spend time on them or support them then that’s fine as long as you’ve got that romantic partner b/c that’s how romance is so often defined, as being More than any other relationship, like, hey i don’t Need anything else, i don’t Need anyone else, it’s fine if i only have you, for some reason we gotta view relationships as Tiered and know which one’s you’d consider disposable if you put them all through a winner-take-all tournament bracket.......brilliant approach which is totally fine if the agenda is “give people One Good Relationship with One person which must fulfill their existence and fix everything lacking” like ok

i mean there it alll comes back around to going “augh jesus christ” at Isolation packaged as romance where it’s like “[as long as Romance] it’s fine if i die, it’s fine if i don’t have anyone or anything else, it’s fine if we never engage with the world or talk to anyone else again”.......like fuck!!!! this is horrible!!!!!! god!!!!!! Isolation is Bad gang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and abuse overlaps sooooo hard with isolation, and you’ve got that deliberately isolating tactic that abusive partners pull that like, you can’t spend time with family and friends, it’s me vs. them, and you should always be prioritizing More Time With Me and be perfectly happy with *Only* our relationship or you don’t *really* love me..........but then this same sort of Concept will be just be touted as Ideal Romance as long as both people are cool with it lol!!! like, i don’t even Want to be around or think about anyone else, this one person is my whole Life And World, other loved ones who????? it’s Just Us now and hopefully forever, #sweet

like it’s pretty Effed Up that people have to feel like there’s only one way to expect someone to ever be at all devoted to them or really care about / understand / support them and that’s through having a Current Great Romantic Relationship, which must and should be *everything*..........like, everything i think abt “this idea about romance seems awful” is about like........romance shouldn’t be this way for even people who currently have that kind of relationship, and it should Always Be Fine to be single, even if you want / hope for a romantic relationship.........i’m keenly aware that snagging a Romantic Relationship seems like the only way to have someone committed to being On Your Side and paying attention to your existence every day. but really of course that shouldn’t be the case......and when a romance IS had, why is it worse to have a grounded view of it like, when people compare it moreso to friendships rather than to being some kind of magical bond which effortlessly yields Everything You Need In Life, so now you don’t have to care about anything or anybody else

sounds mean or Cold or whatever to be like well the way i see it is that “romance is unnecessary” but i mean, first off it is, you don’t Need it and some people don’t want it. but imo it’s not Bad to see it as just like, a sick bonus, a really awesome thing if you want it and it happens, but like, of course life isn’t Worthless or Ruined if someone who Wants a partner is single / becomes single. like, ideally Being Single regardless of whether you want that to be permanent or not should actually be enough on its own for anyone to be happy!! nobody should Need to have a partner to be happy / feel like their life is okay the way it is. like, is it not actually more ~romantic~ or whatever to feel like okay, i would be fine and happy with being single, but i would rather be with this other person because i Want to be, but i don’t Need this relationship to be okay. vs. the whole like i *need* this relationship type “that’s the puppetmaster who cursed my dick” approach where it’s like, god believe me this isn’t my idea but i MUST be with you, i’m miserable without you so i basically have no choice, this is like, the universe holding me at gunpoint. why not have choosing to be with someone just like “yeah i prefer this to Not being with you and i think it improves my life overall” without anyone having to feel like it’s their only option for happiness

anyways i really can’t imagine the concept of like, a Romance just absolutely cutting down all these other aspects of your life b/c you don’t care about / Need that shit anymore being an at-all pleasant or appealing concept versus like, it just being its own positive relationship that enhances everything and Doesn’t become your sole source for so much shit like validation and commitment and intimacy and support / help and companionship and etc etc etc etc etc etc

i’m sure this isn’t the only tangent i forgot to throw in somewhere else but everyone knows my “'teen angst’ is largely comprised of anticapitalist sentiment in the face of the hellscape and cognitive dissonance of adult life under capitalism and YA media deals with this and the struggle to find genuine connection and value in everyday existence" takes, well, it’s kinda wild how it’s basically a requirement for any YA work to have a thread of Romance running central to the whole thing. not like that doesn’t happen in other Genres, and not like some works don’t lean into that way harder than others, and not like every main char Ends Up with the/a love interest at the end, but it’s like, jeez. imo supports my idea that romance is Supposed to be *the* panacea for the ailments of capitalism