#but you don't have to point out the obvious to ME

[agirlinthegalaxy]

Hi! Fellow person with an English degree, along with working for an academic company that has a short college textbook about AI! One of the things that was discussed was hallucinations, which is incorrect information that AI presents as fact. Because the thing is, AI isn't capable of critical thought on its own. It takes in all of this information from the internet, but, as well all know, the Internet isn't inherently a trustworthy source of information and AI isn't capable of actually verifying this information.

One of the ways that we demonstrated this in our textbook is by inputting "Who won the 2022 presidential election?" This was using a previous ChatGPT model, but it actually would answer the question genuinely as if there had been a 2022 presidential election. Another way that I found personally is that I would begin discussing television shows and push it, and without fail, it always began making a lot of errors about obvious plot points and would be unable to keep it straight. Here's an input where I ask for an explanation of the finale of the Charmed (1998) series. (Spoilers for that ahead, but also the show ended nearly twenty years ago, so.)

While a lot of people probably don't know a lot about the show, here's the most relevant part: the entire Ultimate Power section is a complete fabrication because, while they exist, they're distinct characters with a completely different background. (And before anyone says anything, the point isn't about how recognizable the show is, it's about the AI literally makes up false information and presents it as truth when it's very easily disproved.)

Another way of illustrating AI's hallucinations is asking an either/or question, presuming that an event happens. Now, in full transparency, I have not read Dracula since 2021/2022, but I'm about eighty percent sure that this is an example of a hallucination. If not, my apologies, but I'm sure you can find a hallucination if you input it enough similar statements.

Beyond clearly just knowing what is accurate or not, AI also, like the previous OP said, doesn't know what is important. In many classes, when you're discussing some kind of novel, small details will of vital importance whether it about character, plot, or theme of the book. Demonstrated by one of my professors who asked us about the symbolism of the horse that Thomas Sutpen rode into town in the beginning of Absalom, Absalom only to very loudly proclaim that it was between his legs as a phallic symbol, which honestly was probably correct with the author William Faulkner being who he is. Side note, but he was a weird man, and I still don't like his works. If I was a student in that class today, here are the two different shortcuts I could have gotten.

(ChatGPT)

(SparkNotes)

Between the two, even disregarding that SparkNotes' summary is four paragraphs to ChatGPT's three (since the girl in the og Twitter post used three), SparkNotes just provides so much more information and detail. I'd argue that ChatGPT doesn't even summarize it efficiently anyways. So if you're just trying to cheat for class, ChatGPT still isn't a good option.

But I think the worst thing is that the people in the original Twitter convo aren't even reading for class. They're (presumably) reading for enjoyment, which makes it so much more bizarre to me. Because the thing is, and this is a rare one for me to say, you don't... have to read if you don't enjoy it? Once you've left school, very few places (unless you intentionally opt into it or have a very specific job) will make you read novels in your free time. Furthermore, I really can't fathom problems that ChatGPT solves that, say, an audiobook can't? Discussing these two specific instances individually:

If you're wanting to learn more about what Aristotle said in more readable English, baby, he's Aristotle. I can almost guarantee you that there is some kind of book out there, or even something online if you'd like to use the Internet, explaining his philosophy in easier to understand terms. Also with philosophy, I think that "main gist" can be a bit of a trick in of itself because it's designed to make you think critically about these ideas. Sometimes, the "main gist" is even the opposite of what they may seemingly be arguing because they're mocking it.

As for reading a book recommendation by a friend. ... girlie pop, you literally could just not read the book. I've gotten plenty of book recommendations that I've never read and my friends are not insulted at it. If it's a bid for connection, I'd argue that this is more insulting than simply not reading it because if you don't want to invest the time into it, that's fine but this weird shortcut way as if it's beneath your time is... oof. But especially if you want to discuss it, because AI will not include every beat and a lot of a novel is in the way it's written, the pacing or tension, etc. Things that an AI summary can't define out for you to have an actual meaningful conversation. That's something I do when I see a movie that looks halfway interesting but don't care enough to actually sit down and watch it. And even then, I'd never go back to that friend and act like I actually consumed that media; I'd probably just say that it sounds good because I still have not actually truthfully engaged with it!

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about AI, especially in classes, literature, and media in general. Most of them are very negative, but I mean, please don't hand over your critical thinking of what you're consuming to artificial intelligence. Its intelligence is artificial; yours is not.

what is HAPPENING

[doberbutts]

hello! I'm the one that sent you that ask a week or so ago. Sorry I didn't check to see if you'd answered for a while because I was just so upset and had to take a second. I will say I scrolled through a bunch of helpful posts you reblogged before I even found the ask again that helped a LOT.

Two things I thought you might want to know is that it wasn't speculation that you'd blocked the weirdo blog that sent me your way: they literally have "proudly blocked by doberbutts" in their bio which was why i felt safe coming to you lmao. Second is I guess my struggle with this issue was an overall struggle with how bad wider misogyny has gotten in general and how muddied it's gotten with the "male loneliness crisis" and like, centering men's issues under patriarchy and just how insanely upset it's been making me. Seeing cis MRAs identify with trans men freaked me out because like, yeah it's important to talk about how (cis) men suffer under patriarchy but it's just so rare for me to find men do that without devolving into misogyny, and I start to feel so helpless because I know validating these issues matter but women are being literally dehumanized openly. I do play oppression olympics with this specific issue and just of COURSE women suffer more under patriarchy, but the same men who demand space to air how they suffer won't acknowledge that truth. (sorry for soapboxing; some of them do! It's just...things are so bad for women rn lol it's really hard to have compassion when it feels like none is being given to me).

So the more I see this issue the more I think people are being affected by larger misogyny like I am, but are doing the typical thing that happens where you lash out at a group you can "reach." Policing and harassing trans men's behaviours is way easier than cis men. I've also been seeing some parallels between this discourse and the "gay men vs lesbian women" discourse. It's not really a one-to-one but the discussion of the role of misogyny re homophobia towards gay men who still have male privilege but, come on, if they have feminine affectation it's Different and the back and forth that used to happen when gay men and lesbian women did oppression olympics, it just feels similar.

idk as i type this I hope I don't come across disingenuous or like, my Too Casual Overly Respectful tone is trying to subtly incept you. I worry my vibes are too "women first" but I just can't help it misogyny really is ruining my life 😭. Anyways I'm very grateful for your perspective and your blog. I feel more settled and equipped to push back against anti transmasculine behaviour with rhetoric that can actually challenge people

To respond to each point in turn:

1: Again I still don't really know who that is, though I am somewhat bemused by the idea that someone I clearly don't really remember is still so obsessed with me that they're proud I've blocked them. For the record, my block list is as follows: people who send anonymous hate, people who continue to harass me after I've told them to stop, people I catch with posts containing inexcusable bigotry, obvious trolls, self-identified zoophiles and MAPs, and people who repeatedly send me fundraisers after I have already said I only share fundraisers from people I know and trust. Being on my block list is, um, not really good company, so it's kind of funny to me that someone is proud to be there. Yeah I'm sure they'll fit right in with the neo-nazis and dogfuckers and cyber bullies. Oh and I guess my ex but I only blocked them after they started harassing me about our failed relationship years later. Enjoy block hell I suppose.

2: I'm not really here to play who has it worse, not because I don't recognize the wider understanding of privilege vs oppression but because I think it is a self-defeating thread of thought because you will always find a "more oppressed" example, and I think that people should be allowed to talk about their hurts regardless of their status of "more oppressed" vs "less oppressed". Talking about the ways society has hurt them is not what makes MRAs dangerous. What makes them dangerous is who they blame, how they go about fixing their problem, and the solutions to their problems they come up with.

To be quite frank, the majority of MRAs are men who have experienced some form of social rejection or isolation. Most have been sold some patriarchal lie about how by being men they inherently deserve good sex with hot women on demand, a wife at home to keep barefoot and pregnant, a high paying job where they are respected and valued regardless of the effort they themselves put into it, and all the luxuries that lifestyle can afford. This is a fantasy, you and I both know it. And when these men realize the hard reality that we live in an age of extreme social isolation, that in order to have a partner you need to actually have more personality than a used dishrag and with only half the mess at max, that good sex is about give and take and not just yourself, that these high paying jobs are few and far between with most takers being born into some level of wealth rather than any merit they themselves have earned... they lash out.

It does not at all help things to understand that many of these MRAs are themselves marginalized in some way, but their framework not only doesn't let them see it but also advocates a harsh rejection of anyone who is self-aware enough to realize it. A lot of these guys are undiagnosed, have trauma, and are just as affected by the systems of racism, classism, homo- and trans-phobia, xenophobia, sexism, and ableism as the rest of us.

Quite frankly, I'd rather these dudes see a group of (trans) men fighting for our place in society by joining hands with other activists with more feminist, black-friendly, disabled-friendly, gay- and trans-friendly in an attempt to lift everyone out of the pit rather than continuing to fight over scraps... than to see them continue to blame women and Jews and then go shoot up a school or a mall about it. One of these helps. The other just kills people and excuses rape. There's a lot of value in deradicalizing people by offering them a path to resolving their pain that is perhaps less destructive and more constructive.

This is also why the constant comparison to MRAs annoys me. MRAs kill people in senseless acts of terror and despair because they're upset that they're not having the sex fantasy the patriarchy sold them. Trans men talking about our oppression- regardless of the word we use to express it- are mostly talking amongst ourselves about suicide and rape statistics and sharing ways to get hormones and surgery despite unwilling doctors and insurance companies. We're talking about how our social groups rejected us the moment we came out, or how people use us being men against us in ways that was not happening before we came out or passed. These are not at all equivalent conversations.

3: Again I ask you- I see people using both cis and trans feminist frameworks to hurt other people. Where is your concern for that? I am equally concerned about TERFs as I am about MRAs, as they have driven multiple transgender people and our allies to suicide and even have committed acts of violence against people irl as a result of their ideology. Most TERFs will also be the first ones to tell you that they have been hurt, deeply, by men and that they also are frequently undiagnosed or untreated, traumatized, and affected by the same systems of oppression. Does their existence and their determination to latch onto every feminist conversation including those of people who are staunchly against them then poison all feminism to you? If not, then why make that distinction for trans men and MRAs?

I am black. I am Indigenous. I am transgender. I am gay. I am disabled. I am poor. I suffer. People hurt me. I see every day how bad things are. Do you think I cannot see it, or that my ignorance is the reason for my request for compassion? Perhaps consider that it is rather my knowledge and my lived experience that fuel my call for compassion, instead. I never said it would be easy. But I do think it would make a better world.

4: I do actually agree that it is very similar to the gay man vs lesbian conversation and have said for a while that it's the same queer infighting discussion we've already hashed out for the last 50 or so years, but the target groups just swapped out. It's just butchphobia, it's just biphobia, it's just aphobia, it's just panphobia, it's just nbphobia- it's the same fucking shit over and over and over again. It was shit infighting before and it's shit infighting now. Privilege is a conversation that depends so heavily on context, and the way it has been bastardized by the internet's poor understanding of political frameworks developed by women of color and their allies into cute soundbites and phrases rather than a deep, nuanced knowledge will never fail to annoy me.

Do gay men have privilege over lesbians? As a class, sure, they would have male privilege. But what do we mean by male privilege? The privilege to not worry about being assaulted on the street? To walk home late at night unbothered? To marry who they want, to have the romantic partner they desire, to feel safe within a domestic partnership? You and I both know that doesn't quite match up to the lived experience of gay men worldwide or even here in the "gay paradise" US. How does this interact with other marginalizations? Does a black gay man have privilege over a white lesbian? What happens if he's a drag queen dressed up for an event and she's a butch that passes for cis male? Does that change retroactively if this "gay man" figures out she's actually a transbian 5 years later, and the lesbian is a TERF? I'm not saying this breaks the framework of male privilege- I am saying that sometimes the theory doesn't match the reality, and a nuanced and intersectional understanding is required when talking on an individual scope rather than class politics.

Additionally- as a side note- it is also incredibly annoying to watch people act like privilege = oppressor = dangerous, and oppressed = victim = safe. Privilege, and whether or not you have any, is not a moral indicator nor is it an indicator of the safety of the person you're interacting with. I have privilege over people who cannot walk, because I can. I am not objectively or systemically oppressing people who cannot walk by the use of my legs in my day-to-day life. Oppression is action- if I vote for policies and politicians that removes ramps and safety regulations and provisions to assist wheelchair users? Now I am oppressing people who cannot walk. If I block or move or interfere with the disability aids, if I mock people or assault or harm them, if I dump them out of their mobility aids or break them, that is oppression. The act of climbing the 3 stairs on my front porch to get into my house is a privilege, but the oppression stems from the people who built my house to even have stairs on both exits.

5: lastly to end a very long post, I don't actually think there's any harm in centering yourself when discussing things that objectively affect you, as long as you remember to include others who are affected and let them have their floor to also center themselves when they need to speak up. I am a black trans man. My politics are pretty centered on black feminism. I don't think that is objectively a bad thing. I prefer to let the demographics with similar problems speak for themselves- I would rather my trans fem friends get the mic when they open their mouths, my lesbian friends, my Jewish friends, my latino and asian and arab friends. I don't think there's anything wrong with them centering their own problems and outlooks, as long as they recognize that there's shared space to be had with others who feel similar hurts. I think it's pretty normal to center yourself. I think the difficult thing is knowing when to relinquish the megaphone to someone who's been dying to use it, while you yourself still have so much to say.

[nachrosas]

SLIDE TO LOVE | s.reid x reader

summary: you try to teach spencer how to roller-skate. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: just spencer being a little drunk in this one! word count: 936 a/n: just a little fun day at park with spencer :)

It was a beautiful day. The park was especially alive there. Children's laughter echoed across the green fields, interspersed with the rhythmic sound of roller skates gliding across the asphalt. You were sitting beside Spencer on a bench shaded by a tree, watching the surrounding movement.

“Look at them!” you commented, pointing to a group of young people doing tricks on a small ramp. “I think they're competing to see who can get hurt first.”

Spencer adjusted his glasses, his curious gaze following their movements. “In fact, studies show that high-risk sports stimulate the release of adrenaline and dopamine, which can be considered a motivating factor. What's more, the likelihood of musculoskeletal injuries in sports like this is…”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't contain your smile. “Right. Dr. Reid, what about you? Have you ever tried skating?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “Me? No, never. It seems… too unstable for me.”

“It's fun!” you insisted a little, standing up and tugging on his hand. “Come on, Spencer. It's time to add that to your list of extraordinary skills.”

He hesitated, but your piercing gaze made him stand up slowly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “If I fall and hurt myself, it'll be your fault.”

“No problem! I'm a great instructor!” you assured him, guiding him to the small hut that rented out roller skates.

Spencer looked at the skates on his feet as if they were bombs about to explode. “Did you know that skating is responsible for approximately 100,000 injuries a year in the United States? About 33% of them involve the wrists, because when people fall, they choose their hands as a method of protection.”

You laughed, crossing your arms. “Okay, Dr. Statistics, but you're forgetting the most important fact: falling is part of the fun.” You took a step forward, grabbing his hands. “And besides, I'm here to make sure you don't become one of those 33%.”

He frowned, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch, almost forming a smile. “I can't be good at everything, you know?” he grumbled.

“Exactly! And that's why it's going to be so much fun to watch you stumble a little.” You winked at him and gently pulled him away from the grass, towards the asphalt.

As soon as the wheel of Spencer's roller skates touched the smooth surface, he staggered, his arms moving like uncontrolled propellers. You held on tightly to his hands, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Okay, okay, don't worry! Small steps, right? Let's try again.”

He nodded, his eyes fixed on his own feet, his expression determined. Every step was clumsy, and he stumbled a few times, but you never let go of his hands.

“You're thinking too much,” you commented, as you helped him regain his balance for the third time. “You have to relax, let the movement flow. It's like walking in sneakers! Only instead of sneakers, it's wheels.”

He looked up at you, his brown eyes shining with something other than frustration. “Relaxing? I'm not exactly good at it.”

You laughed, tilting your head. “Really? You don't even think so. All that genius and you can't take two steps without pulling me along?”

Spencer stopped, swaying slightly on his skates. “You know I'd do anything to see you smile like that, right?”

The world seemed to slow down. He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart soar. A shy smile took over his face.

“Well, in that case,” you replied, squeezing their hands tighter. “You'd better keep practicing. Because I'm still not satisfied.”

He smiled back, genuine and full of renewed confidence, and took another step. Of course, he stumbled again, but this time your laughter echoed together, filling the park with a light and contagious joy.

With you still holding his hands, Spencer was able to glide with more confidence — or at least what felt like confidence. His movements were still clumsy as if he was learning to walk again, and that's when you realized that he was really trying. For you.

For a brief moment, he took three consecutive steps without stumbling, and you both celebrated as if he had just won a medal. But the euphoria was short-lived. With his next move, Spencer lost his balance, tripping and pulling you along.

You both fell to the ground awkwardly, but the impact was cushioned by the laughter that escaped your lips. You looked at him, who was now lying on his back, trying to catch his breath as he laughed more freely than you had ever seen before.

“I told you,” he said between laughs. “that it wouldn't end well.”

“Finish well?” you repeated, sitting down and holding out your hand to help him up. “Spencer, that was perfect!”

He accepted your help, taking a seat next to you, still with his skates on his feet. “If that's your definition of perfect, maybe I need to revise my standards.”

You gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, smiling. “You know, I think you're starting to get the spirit of the thing.”

He tilted his head, studying you with that look that seemed to unlock secrets. “Maybe it's because I have the best teacher in the world.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile remained. “And you'll need more lessons! Next time, no falls, okay?”

“Next time…” he repeated, with a slight curve to his lips, as if the mere act of saying those words was a promise.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - two mafia! charles leclerc x fem! reader ( angst ) series summary . . . after preparing your whole life to be married off to a mafia boss, you now have the difficult task of figuring out your new marriage and life, ensuring they don't turn out to be miserable.

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

II, Good Morning Starshine . . . It’s hard to shake the feeling of stepping into a game where the rules are still unclear. The house is vast, echoing with unspoken histories, and each step feels like a quiet negotiation with the space( 1.4k words ) content warning . . . ( x )

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The sunlight filters through the curtains, spilling warm streaks of gold across the grand room. You blink against the light, sitting up slowly, only to glance down at the mess beside you. Charles lies sprawled on the bed, soft snores escaping his lips, his hair a wild mess against the pillow. The sight tugs at something soft inside you, and you almost smile before his hand darts out, wrapping lazily around your arm.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep, pulling you back toward the warmth of his chest.

You pause, torn between staying and slipping away to explore. The pull of the house wins out. You gently try to pry his grip loose, only for him to groan in protest and tug you back again. He huffs, burying his face in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You can feel him take a long, deliberate inhale.

“Are you selling me?” You ask. The Monegasque simply answers with a nod in his sleepy stat, taking another deep wiff..

“Stop sniffing me, Charles,” you murmur, your voice low but amused. “I already smell like you, don’t make it weirder.”

His response is a half-awake grumble and a tightening of his grip. It’s only when his breathing slows again—deep, steady, unmistakably asleep—that you seize the chance to slip away.

The house is silent as you step into the hallway, pulling the robe around you more snugly. Each step echoes faintly in the vast space, the sheer size of it almost overwhelming. But you’re not just wandering aimlessly; no, this is reconnaissance. Every hidden security camera, every discreetly reinforced window, even the strange, too-perfect panel on the wall that might be a trap door—you catalog it all. A mental map starts forming, weak points and retreat routes tucked neatly into the back of your mind.

Your fingers trail lightly along the railing as you approach the grand staircase. A quick mental calculation tells you this would be a good spot to stage a diversion—or a disaster. You glance back down the hallway, your thoughts flickering to Charles. 

There’s a fine line between settling in and claiming territory, but you’ve never been one to play passive.

The sharp chime of the doorbell pulls you from your thoughts. You make your way to the grand double doors, tying the waist string of your robe as you go. When you open the door, you’re greeted by a few maid being ushered in by your younger brother. The women don’t waste anytime going into the kitchen to start on breakfast, leaving to give Kimi an empty look.

“You don’t miss me?” He asks, giving you his weirdly cheerful smiles.

“Not yet,” you sigh.

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Breakfast is already spread out on the dining table when you join them. Charles sits at the head, his sharp eyes darting between you and Kimi, his confusion obvious but unspoken. You take the seat to Charles’s right, and Kimi settles beside you—not in front of you, which you note amused. Id he want to sit beside you, or keep away from Charles. The maids quietly move around the room, serving freshly baked bread and perfectly folded omelettes, the kind of luxury that still feels a little too much.

Midway through comseing the meal, Arthur makes his entrance. He strides in, his shirt slightly wrinkled, running a hand through his hair as he mumbles an apology. “Sorry for being late,” he says, taking the seat across from you, next to Charles.

The quiet tension in the room is almost amusing. You can feel Kimi glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his usual bluntness barely contained. Charles sips his coffee, looking like he’s waiting for a shoe to drop. 

When breakfast wraps up, Kimi stands to leave, ushering the maids out ahead of him. As he reaches the door, you catch him by the arm, pulling him aside. “We’ll talk soon,” you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “Don’t worry so much.”

“Are you sure you’re safe here?” His voice is low, edged with concern, his words aimed at you but not subtle enough to escape Charles’s notice.

You tilt your head, your fingers tapping the edge of your mug thoughtfully. “Kimi,” you start, your voice calm but firm, “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. And you—you need to focus on our family’s future. One of us has to be there.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his jaw tightens. You know he wants to argue, to remind you of all the reasons he doesn’t trust this arrangement. But he couldn’t do anything.

He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding.

You watch him from a few steps away, arms crossed loosely over your chest, a small smirk tugging at your lips. He’s so polite, your little brother. Too polite for this world. But as the last of the maids begins to step out, you catch sight of Mary. She’s younger, probably around Kimi’s age, with wide eyes that dart between you and the exit like she’s afraid she’s forgotten something important.

“Mary,” you call, your voice steady but not harsh. She freezes mid-step, turning back to you.

“Yes, Madame?”

“You always wanted to live in Monaco, didn’t you?” You wave her over casually, as though you hadn’t just thrown her entire morning into question.

Her cheeks flush pink, and her lips part in surprise. She nods quickly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. “Yes, Madame.”

You tilt your head toward your side. “Stay.”

Mary’s eyes flick to Kimi for a moment, as if asking for permission, but he just shrugs with an easygoing grin. “Looks like you’ve got a new boss, Mary,” he jokes lightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Mary nods again, the nervousness on her face shifting into something closer to excitement. She takes a few steps back toward you, standing quietly at your side, as though waiting for her next instruction.

After breakfast, the air in the room shifts—less familial, more businesslike. Charles leads you to the sitting room, where Arthur waits, hands clasped behind his back, his blondish hair catching the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. He looks every inch the younger version of his brother, though there’s a calmness in his demeanor that Charles’s sharper edges lack.

Charles doesn’t bother with small talk. “Arthur will be your right hand in every operation,” he says, his tone leaving no room for debate. “If there’s something you need to know, he’ll provide it. And if there’s a decision to be made, he’ll be by your side.”

Arthur nods once, his gaze settling on you with quiet amusement, though it’s clear he’s sizing you up. You meet his steady stare with one of your own, calm and unflinching. You’ve been through enough to know this moment isn’t about him—it’s about you.

“I look forward to seeing what you bring to the table, Arthur,” you say, your tone measured, yet carrying the weight of someone who’s already decided she belongs here.

Arthur’s lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile, and he inclines his head slightly. “Likewise,” he replies, his voice as smooth and even as his demeanor.

Charles watches the exchange with a tight smile, pleased with the unspoken agreement between the two of you. His confidence in your ability to step into this role is as unshakable as the foundation of the villa itself, and the weight of it presses down on you just a little. But you don’t let it show.

As Charles moves to take his leave, Arthur shifts slightly, his stance still relaxed but more personal now. “So,” he starts, his voice light yet curious, “any idea what you’ll do today?”

Your gaze sweeps the room, landing on the grand yet cluttered surroundings. A house this big carries more than just history—it carries the weight of someone else’s preferences, someone else’s life. That wouldn’t do. You gesture vaguely around you. “This place needs to be cleaned up. A fresh start.”

Arthur follows your line of sight, nodding in agreement. “Makes sense. I’ll hang around,” he says easily, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Call for me if you need anything.”

There’s no condescension in his tone, no questioning of your authority, just a simple, straightforward offer. It’s almost refreshing.

“Don’t go too far,” you reply, half a warning, half a tease.

Arthur smirks, giving you a small salute before stepping back, leaving you to start shaping the villa—and your role in this world—on your terms.

[hoodiegal]

For the first 2-3 years of my medical transition my doc insisted that my blood levels of E should be between 100-200 pg/mL and I didn't know better than to trust him because he was the professional. What a fucking shocker that my changes were incredibly slow and seemed to just stop after some time, (for example, my breasts getting stuck somewhere between tanner stages 2 and 3) and it has taken years after getting to a more reasonable level to see small improvements. I'm upset and feel betrayed. I've seen plenty of trans women who've had greater physical changes than me in two years because they were on the right fucking levels from the start. I sometimes worry my chances of having my body look "right" are permanently ruined because of my shit hrt regimen.

Also when I wanted to add prog to my regimen he hemmed and hawed so much before finally budging and prescribing me... 10 mg oral daily. Which I thought was standard dose back then, and have more recently learned is 1/20th of recommended dose. No shit it didn't do much.

I'll also add on that i wasn't even a minor when I started hrt. My doc was just using 10-20 year old guidelines or something like that.

Oh also I've been trying to get on injections for like a year.

Patches give me rashes and gel is unpleasant to apply and I frequently forget it. He initially said "we can do that, but it requires some paper work and is a bit of a hassle, we'd really like if you could try this spray (lanzetto?) first" so I tried lanzetto and despite taking 1.5x the recommended dosage it tanked my levels to the point I could physically feel it so I was like "can I get injections now?" And he went "it's such a hassle though, can we try pills first?" And I'm like "the ones that have a documented risk of causing throat cancer?" And he went "well that risk is still really small and we've (his clinic) really never seen that it does that in practice" and I went "I don't think I wanna do that." And he went "well reach out if you wanna give it a shot. If that doesn't work we can look into injections" And I'm now looking into starting DIY because fuck this nonsense.

He has a mantra when it comes to different delivery systems. "It's the same estrogen in all of them, as long as your body manages to take it up they do the same thing." Which. Yes, technically. But that doesn't mean they're all the same as should be fucking obvious by the issues I have with the different types. Also, I believe I can remember and manage to do an injection once or twice a week. It's been several years and I'm still struggling with consistently remembering and having the energy to apply my gel daily.

one of the more depressing things about trans subreddits is seeing just how badly people's doctors are lowballing them on HRT dosage and how frequently their doctors are fucking idiots.

[utilitycaster]

something that struck me from some of the really good tags on this post (specifically the "tall kings") one is that most arguments against the gods or for the benefit of Predathos rely on real-world metaphors that just...don't really fit very well, and it might just be that this isn't something for which one can draw a real world metaphor, but might actually have to conceive a world that is fundamentally different than ours. The gods aren't tall kings; "destroying the throne" does not mean a coup. It means their deaths; and yes, to state the obvious a coup against a monarchy frequently involves assassinating the monarch, but it's telling that the language is carefully skirting around that. You cannot destroy the throne or remove the crown or have the gods step down in any peaceful manner; both the Matron and Arch Heart agree this only happens if the threat of Predathos is unleashed.

And Predathos. Setting aside the connotations of assigning the idea of wild deer to sentient beings, the "reintroduction of the natural predator" metaphor collapses on several points. The first is that equating "became deities, who, as the post linked above points out and per general lore, are explicitly not able to run rampant anymore". The second is that Predathos is not a wolf that once lived on Exandria but is just as foreign to the world as the gods themselves. While I reject the metaphor entirely for the initial reasons stated, it is worth keeping in mind that if you do need it as a scaffolding on which to hang foreign concepts, Predathos is less the wolf population and more a family of tigers or cheetahs: just as much an invasive species, with an impact on the environment

I think these are two major issues that need to be addressed in any conversation:

Predathos has been adopted and mythologized by several party members who are actually much more concerned about the titans, who are dead. Killing the gods will not bring back the titans. I feel this metaphor is sort of falling into that same trap; this is not a return of something native to this world.

On some level, while I understand the use of real-world metaphors to comprehend a fantasy world from a lens of familiarity - I do this as well! - I think if we cannot have a discussion that starts with "what if Predathos is in fact the embodiment of a cosmic, unending, merciless hunger that cannot be changed and cannot be swayed and can only be sealed, killed, or given free rein" we cannot have a discussion at all. I think it's necessary to acknowledge we're talking about a game that gives you a space to explore an idea as if it were physical, and which might not be able to be told within the bounds of real-world experience.

This of course also doesn't address the ongoing issue of "whether or not Bells Hells actions towards Predathos and the outcome ends up being in the moral right, the road to get here was structurally unsound and the party did not go in with the intent of doing anything specific whatsoever and indeed faltered for the most part when asked by the main villain what they wanted." Again, I don't care if Bells Hells are heroes or villains or something in between, but they don't seem to be anything or have any shared intention as a group, which I've discussed already here. But if you do want to argue that releasing Predathos could be good, I think it's necessary to have a coherent argument there, and be able to address "what if it's really fucking bad" if we're moving into the realm of the speculative. "What if this change that comes at the end of mass death might be better for the world but I have no proof" is not a very convincing argument. It is, in fact, one of the only ones Bells Hells has made a compelling case against.

[bubbipond]

I knew media literacy was down while watching We Are and people were hating on Fang for not being as lovey dovey as Tan. Incapable of seeing that Fang had his own form of "lovey dovey" in his actions versus Tan and his words. So people watching dramas like The Heart Killers and straight up missing very obvious points doesn't shock me. I'm not making fun of people by any means, I just think too much of the QL media world lacks some form of literacy while watching these shows.

People are bad mouthing Kant like he's some sort of supervillain or antagonist. You don't even need knowledge of Taming of the Shrew to understand the dynamics between the four mc's (though if you want some, there are people on here diving into that). My point is, Kant, Style, Bison, and Fadel are not meant to be squeaky clean characters. I mean two of them are manipulating the other two, sleeping with them, and lying to them. While the other two are literal murderers. You aren't supposed to think these guys are totally upstanding. But the emphasis on Kant hate is bizarre.

Especially since Kant has always had most to lose in this. Style only really has to worry about his own safety but he already knows Fadel won't kill him.

Bison/Fadel could easily kill both boys or get "mom" to fix their issues. So they both have ways out regardless of both being in love. But Kant has always had no way out. So much of this story is a conversation about what people will do when they are desperate with backs against the wall. Outside of Style, the other 3 had lives they had no control over.

There's so many layers and social issues at play in this that I cannot fathom people focusing on hating Kant. But that's just me.

+Don't even say that I am a firstkhao Stan which is why I'm saying this because this is actually only the second time l've watched them. The only other time was OF and I didn't even watch that for them. So this has nothing to do with bias.

[mofongomuncher]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙕𝙖𝙪𝙣

(Ekko X Reader)

❥ cast : ! Ekko, Reader, Ekko and Reader's child ¡

❥ : ! Ekko finds himself swept into one of his daughter's latest games. Despite all his protesting, he ends up forced to dress up in a princess outfit you had made—complete with a crooked crown. His daughter, with her unshakable determination, declared him as the queen. She insists he plays alongside her as both princess and queen to save you, whether he likes it or not. ¡

The Firelight base was unusually quiet today, the kind of calm that made you wonder if it was the calm before the storm. But in your little corner of the world, calm never lasted long—not with a six-year-old who had inherited all of Ekko's sass and energy running around.

You sat on your bed, casually sorting through the pile of random, mismatched clothes you'd scavenged from Zaun during a recent run. Most were barely holding together, but they'd found a new life as costumes for your daughter's endless imaginative games.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out, and you glanced up to see her standing in front of Ekko, her small hands on her hips. Her curly, snow-white hair, so much like his, bounced with each movement. She looked utterly determined today, which immediately set off warning bells for Ekko.

"What's up little one?" Ekko asked, leaning back in his chair with a wary expression, his white locs falling onto his eyes.

"We're playing princesses, and you have to be one with me.." she declared, holding up a "princess" dress you'd put together from scraps of bright fabric.

Ekko blinked at the dress like if it was a bomb about to go off. "Nah, I think I'm good kiddo. I'm not really the princess type."

She narrowed her eyes, the sass radiating off her in waves. "Yes you areee. You're gonna be the queen, and we have to save Mommy from the super scary, evil dragon!"

Ekko groaned, shooting you a look that screamed, Help me. You just smiled innocently, biting back a laugh.

"Alright, fine... But I'm not wearing anything that's pink." he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Deal!" She chirped, already pulling him to his feet.

Before he could argue further, she was shoving the dress into his hands. It was a little lopsided creation of bright orange and green fabric, complete with a cape you'd made from a blanket.

To top it off, she handed him a crown you'd crafted from wires and bits of broken glass.

Ekko sighed dramatically, pulling the dress over his head and letting the cape drape awkwardly over his shoulders. "This is so embarrassing..." he muttered, adjusting the crown on his head.

Your daughter giggled, twirling in her own dress—a yellow-and-orange patched masterpiece with uneven hems that swished around her tiny legs. She grabbed a wooden toy sword from the floor and pointed it at him. "Come on Queen! We have to save Mommy!"

Ekko raised an eyebrow. "Queen? Really?"

"Uh, Yes...You're the queen, and I'm the princess." she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He snorted, crossing his arms. "Alright, fine. But if I'm the queen, that means I'm in charge, yeah?"

She squinted at him, clearly skeptical. "...Okay. But that's only until we fight the dragon."

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter. "Woww, you two look amazing" you said, watching as Ekko twirled the edges of his ridiculous dress with a mock elegance.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up Y/N" he grumbled, though the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

"Alright, kiddo." he said, crouching down to her level. "What's the plan? How are we gonna save Mommy?"

Your daughter puffed out her chest, holding her sword high. "We're gonna sneak into the dragon's lair and then fight it with our big strong swords!"

Ekko raised an eyebrow. "Sneak? Really? With you yelling all the time? I'm not sure that's gonna work."

She gave him a withering look that was so much like his own that you nearly choked on a laugh. "I don't yell...I give commands."

"Yeah, okay boss.." he said, scooping her up and resting her on his hip. "Let's go save your mom, then."

As they marched toward you, Ekko held her sword in one hand and her in the other, dramatically swishing his cape behind him. "Fear not, fair maiden! The Queen and Princess are here to save you!"

You gasped, playing along. "You'll never defeat me! I'm the scariest dragon in all of Zaun!"

Your daughter wiggled out of Ekko's arms and pointed her sword at you.

"Prepare to lose, evil dragon!"

Ekko sighed, waving his own sword with a flourish. "Alright, dragon...It's time to give it up already. You don't stand a chance against the Queen and her very loud sidekick."

"I'm not loud!" your daughter shot back. Stopping her tiny little foot

"See? Not loud at all.." he said with a smirk, giving her a quick wink before turning back to you.

You flailed your arms, letting out an exaggerated roar. "I'll never surrender, you weaklings!"

Your daughter charged forward, swinging her sword wildly while Ekko followed behind, his movements slow and exaggerated like he was in some over-the-top stage play. "Take that, dragon!" he shouted, lightly tapping your leg with the toy sword.

After a few minutes of chaotic "fighting" you collapsed onto the bed, pretending to be defeated. "No! How could you defeat me?!"

"Because we're the best!" She shouted, throwing her sword into the air in victory.

Ekko scooped her up again, spinning her around as she giggled uncontrollably. " yeah that's right. No dragon can beat the Queen and Princess of Zaun!"

You watched them, your heart swelling as Ekko placed her on his shoulders, her white curls blending with his in the dim light. They were so alike in so many ways, from their looks to their fiery personalities.

He glanced at you, his grin softening. "Guess we're a good team, huh?"

"The best.." you said, smiling as your daughter pressed her cheek against his.

"Next time, I'm picking the game. Maybe something without dresses." Ekko said, plucking the crooked crown off his head.

"No!" your daughter replied, her sass in full force. "You're staying as the queen!"

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he placed her down on the bed next to you. "Then how about this—next time, the Queen retires and becomes the hero who wears pants."

Your daughter flopped dramatically against the pillows, waving her toy sword in the air. " but you can't retire! You're the best queen in Zaun!"

Ekko raised an eyebrow, leaning over her with a grin. "Oh yeah? The best, huh?"

She nodded fervently, her curls bouncing. "Yup! You're the strongest and bravest...That's why I love you!"

The words hit Ekko like a soft punch to the heart. His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a look so tender that it made your chest ache. He reached out to brush a curl from her face, his voice dropping to a gentler tone. "I love you too kiddo..even when you make me wear these ridiculous outfits."

She giggled, hugging his arm like it was her most prized possession. Watching them together, so happy and filled with joy. Made your heart flutter.

It wasn't perfect here in Zaumn—far from it actually, but moments like these reminded you that love and laughter could thrive even in the cracks.

Ekko glanced over at you, catching your gaze. His grin returned, this time softer, more genuine. "Alright, Princess Y/N.." he teased, gesturing toward you. "We saved you. Now what's our reward?"

You pretended to think for a moment, leaning forward to ruffle both of their snowy-white hair. "How about the reward isss...you both get out of those outfits and help me clean up this dragon's lair?"

Ekko groaned, flopping dramatically onto the bed next to your daughter. "Yeah, no way. The Queen is officially too tired to clean."

"Me too!" your daughter chimed in, mimicking him perfectly as she sprawled across the bed.

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the laugh bubbling up in your chest. "Fine, but next time, I'm the queen, and you two are doing the rescuing and cleaning."

Ekko grinned lazily, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you. "Deal. But don't blame me if the Princess here steals the show again."

Your daughter clambered onto his back, giggling as she shot back at him "I do not!"

Ekko grabbed her and tickled her mercilessly, her peals of laughter echoing off the walls.

You couldn't help but think to yourself how these messy, silly, little love-filled moments were your happiest moments.

Check out my Ekko one shots on Wattpad for more stories!! :3

[nostalgebraist]

Thanks for this thoughtful review!

(BTW, for others – this is probably obvious but there are spoilers below the readmore, don't click unless you've read the book)

I'm going to use this as an opportunity to talk about one specific thing that bugs me about some reader reactions to my stuff. Therefore, most of what I say below will be negative (about your review), but I want to emphasize first that that's not a reflection of what I thought of it overall.

----

What I'm here now to talk about is this kind of thing:

There are parts of all his books, where I really think that the explanation for why they are the way they are is that they are "bad on purpose", and all the bullshit [note: in context "bullshit" seems to be meant as a neutral term for non-realist elements -nost] is a way of turning these shortcomings into strengths. The self-effacing voice which whispers that the characters aren't sufficiently well-drawn, are too cartoonish—well, what if that was the point? What if there was a reason for that, in the story?

And like... okay, there is sort of a sense in which this is true, sometimes, kinda. There is a grain of truth to this; it is getting at something real.

But it pains me to say that, because I don't want to encourage this kind of reading. Interpretations like this are occasionally correct but IMO they're much more common than they should be. IMO the right intuition is that this is a galaxy-brained, contrarian sort of take, a last resort you land on when you've ruled out everything else.

And not just with my work, with everything – I'm simply more aware of the problem when it comes to my work, because I wrote it and I'm aware of why I actually did things the way I did.

I've said this before, but watching the way that people react to my own fiction has been an eye-opening experience, one that has taught me things about reader (and viewer, etc.) reactions in general. Specifically, what I've learned was:

People's tastes are way more diverse than I had realized (before I started writing and sharing fiction). And they are diverse in a very fine-grained way; even if two readers have the same preferences about 90% of stuff, or 95%, they'll still diverge on some things. While it's not literally true that "every reader is a unique snowflake with a preference set that no one else shares," that is a very good first approximation of how things are.

Readers (including me!) have been trained by a lifetime of reading book/movie/etc. reviews to frame their preferences/reactions in a pseudo-objective "this is just how it is" way, like their own tastes have some special viewpoint-independent priority, a quality of "reality" or "accuracy" lacking in everyone else's tastes (which are all different, cf. 1). And this is not just a stylistic quirk of the way people write about fiction, it actually (IMO) feeds back into the underlying opinions behind the written commentary. It degrades people's ability to understand what it is they're looking at and their ability to make accurate inferences about the process of its creation.

----

Here's a sort of cartoonish schematic of the type of experience that led me to draw these conclusions. (And I suspect this is not just a thing that happens to me, I imagine it happens with any sort of work that "contains a lot of different types of stuff" the way mine does.)

Writer makes something that has X and Y and Z in it. Writer thinks X/Y/Z are "great tastes that taste great together." Writer is very pleased with the result.

Reader 1 has similar tastes to writer, says something brief about how they loved the book and it's a new favorite for them.

Reader 2 loves X, is OK with Y, hates Z. They write a lengthy review saying that the book was a mixed bag and could have been great if the writer had stuck to X and not messed things up by doing so much Z.

Reader 3 is the reverse of their predecessor: they hate X, are OK with Y, love Z. They write a lengthy review saying that the book was a mixed bag and could have been great if the writer had stuck to Z and not messed things up by doing so much X.

Reader 4 loves X and Z – but they hate Y. They write a lengthy… you can fill in the rest. Imagine a whole bunch of these guys (readers 5, 6, etc).

Reader 17 has the same tastes as Reader 2: loves X, is OK with Y, hates Z. But their lengthy review takes a different, in some sense "more charitable" angle, speculating that the inclusion of Z was a load-bearing pillar in the overall structure, a thing that unfortunately had to be included to "unlock" all that sweet sweet X.

Reader 18 has the same tastes as Reader 3: hates X, is OK with Y, loves Z. But, they explain, X was a load-bearing pillar in the overall structure, a thing that unfortunately had to be included to "unlock" all that sweet sweet Z.

Writer reads all these reviews and feels strange, dizzy. The "nicer" reviews like 17 and 18 are actually more uncomfortable to read than the "meaner" ones like 2 and 3.

"I don't know how to convince you guys," Writer thinks, "but I... I just liked all of it? I thought it was good? That was why I wrote it? (Why else would I have written it?)"

----

Or, as I wrote in that previously linked post from 2021, w/r/t TNC specifically (and making a slightly different but closely related point):

Some people say X was the worst part of TNC, some people say X was the best part. The story was a celebration of Y; the story was about how Y is laughably futile. It’s a letdown that we were never told more about Z; the reason TNC is good is that it leaves stuff like Z to the imagination. It was obvious we were meant to believe P; it is obvious we were meant to believe not-P; the ambiguity about whether P is tiresome literary masturbation; at least the story didn’t jump the shark by spelling out whether P! The reason people like TNC is, of course, that it has A, although nostalgebraist insisted on putting B in there too because he hasn’t fully perfected his formula yet / he somehow thinks B is good even though it isn’t / he thinks it’s funny how bad B is (but the joke tires). …and then someone else has same take, but with A and B flipped.

This exact sort of thing is of course happening again before our eyes with reactions to TAoHS.

I've encountered multiple readers who disliked most of the story but felt the ending (sort of) "redeemed it," and I've also encountered multiple readers who liked the story up until the ending but disliked the ending (or at least thought it was worse than the rest) – to say nothing of the many readers who liked (or disliked) the whole thing all the way through.

And this ending-related stuff is just one particularly obvious facet of a broader diversity in the overall reader response.

By now I know not to be surprised by this stuff, and even to find it kind of fun to watch... but I have to admit, it is still a dizzying and uncomfortable experience.

----

Now, as I said, it is sometimes true that things really are "bad on purpose."

But I think the interpreter's default hypothesis – which should be maintained by default unless convincing evidence against it can be brought forth – should be:

The writer thinks that the thing they wrote is good. They think the ideas are good and they think they executed them well. And they think this more-or-less homogeneously for everything in the work – there are no "bad but unfortunately necessary" parts from the writer's POV.

(At least, this should be the default with works that aren't making the writer much/any money. Obviously things are different with lucrative commercial fiction; there are plenty of well-paid hacks who know they're hacks and do it for the money, etc.)

Why should this be the default? Multiple reasons.

First: it takes a lot of effort to produce any sort of creative work. The writer thought that effort was worthwhile, for some reason – why?

The most straightforward explanation (and a very common one IMO) is that the writer simply believed in the thing that they were making. They believed the effort was worthwhile because it would yield a good product.

Second: as a writer you have an immense amount of freedom. It's difficult to overstate the extent of it. You are playing God, you decide the way that literally everything will be.

Obviously there are some constraints, cases where one part of a story will imply the existence of another or whatever.

But it's very rare that you actually get forced into "doing a thing you know you are bad at, badly." After all: why do that? No one's forcing you! Just do something else! You're God, you control everything!

(Note that this applies also to the very act of writing anything. No one is forcing you to write at all. If you can't come up with good ideas, nothing prevents you from just not writing your bad ones.)

Third: at least in my experience, "playing God" in this way requires a certain state of mind, a certain boldness and self-assurance, which is incompatible with thinking "yeah this is gonna suck but I have to do it" – but is very compatible with thinking "I am making something excellent and every part of it is excellent, hell yes."

Fourth: because of the previously noted diversity of reader preferences, it should not be surprising to any given reader that they find some parts of the work much better than others, even if the writer thought it was all excellent.

This outcome is predictable from the X/Y/Z stuff I talked about above. No clever interpretive work is required to explain it; it arrives pre-explained; it's simply what happens by default.

And finally: because, as I noted above, I think all of us are infected with "reviewer brainworms" and we need to be mindful of this fact.

(Just to be clear, I am not accusing OP of being more infected with said brainworms than anyone else; I'm still on my soapbox, giving a generic rant about a general issue, with OP as merely a jumping-off point.)

We've grown accustomed to the casual conflation between our own tastes and some (usually hazily imagined and under-theorized) sort of "objective, ideal artistic standards."

Outside of a few edge-case eccentrics who can be ignored for my present purposes, we do not do this because we've become intellectually convinced that

(a) such objective standards make sense and really "exist" or at least really matter and

(b) they just so happen to match our own preferences.

Rather, we've fallen into this habit because it's what the pros do: there's a standard style that professional critics and reviewers write in these days, and that style implies these stances. And if one writes (and thinks, in one's inner monologue) in this style, one can easily fall over backwards into uncritically believing (a) and (b) for no better reason than "I seem to already be talking as though I believe these things, hence it would be simple and convenient if I really did believe them."

But – even if we bracket the philosophical questions of whether (a) is in fact true, and (if it is) whose tastes in particular ought to be elevated in the way (b) presumes – even if we table all that for another day, still we ought to keep in mind how weird and audacious a move this is, this simultaneous assertion-without-explanation of the (a)+(b) pair.

We've gotten used to it by exposure, because "the pros" have normalized it. But in actual fact it is a pretty wild thing to just go and assume, given the X/Y/Z/etc. diversity of actual opinion!

If (b) is true for you (general "you" not OP), then it can't be true for me, because we're both unique snowflakes to a first approximation; indeed if (b) is true for you then (to a first approx.) it is only true for you. No one else's tastes have this magical relation to reality, just yours.

Holding the belief (b) about a given reviewer is conceivable-but-wild if we're only considering them in isolation. But once we bring a 2nd reviewer (with non-identical tastes) into the picture, who also believes (b), it's literally impossible to maintain that both of these people are fully right.

And then of course in real life there are not 2 but many, many readers out there, all of them unique snowflakes. And, while it is socially normal in our social context for each one of them to write like they're the chosen one blessed with that special (b)-magic, if you read enough such writing and actually think about what you're reading, it can't help but feel like a sort of game, like playing make-believe. As with most games, it can be very entertaining (for all parties involved), but we shouldn't confuse its amusing conceits for properties of the real world.

In the real world, the writer has their tastes, and you have yours. These tastes are probably not identical. The writer may be aware of the diversity of readerly tastes, and may thus be aware that tastes like yours are out there, but they have no special reason to consider you in particular, elevating you above all the other readers who are non-identical with them (and with you). The writer is dimly and abstractly aware of you, at best, as just another one of the people who will come along later, dislike some of their choices, assume that these choices were wrong in some "objective" way the writer knew about at the time, and then speculate as to why the writer would do something they know is wrong. For every choice, and every way of making every choice, one can imagine a reviewer who responds to it in this way, and quite often these reviewers actually materialize once the work is available for consumption. If you try to reason about these guys in advance, as a writer, it'll stop you in your tracks (if nothing else because there are 2+ of them whose takes are mutually incompatible). You've gotta have some other standard of value to rely on.

So, as a reviewer, if you ask "why would someone ever make a choice I don't like?" and try to pick at this question, you are quite likely heading toward a dead end. The writer wasn't thinking about you (or people like you). They were applying their own, distinct standard of value.

Better to ask: "suppose there was a person who actually liked all of this. What would they be like? How would they be similar to me / different from me? And what, if anything, can I conclude from that?"

The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

My fourth novel, The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, is now available in full.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

[artsfavoritehorn]

Can you please do headcanons where you work at a restaurant as a server/bartender and Art is your S/O and he comes in? OMG PLEAAASE this would make my heart so happy 🥺

It took me a while but these headcanons are finally complete, thank you for your patience! At first it started out as a more traditional headcanons list but as I was writing it, it kind of turned into a fic but I liked the headcanons format so I just stuck with it lol 😅 I hope you enjoy 😊🥰💕

Word count: around 1.5k✍️

No warnings for this one btw, this is all just sweet fluff 😇💜

(Also credit to @hauntedfoodie as well for coming up with the cocktail recipe! 😄🫶)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

-Working as a bartender and server was an extremely tiring job, ESPECIALLY when you had to work around the holidays

-It seems like the restaurant would go into holiday mode earlier and earlier every year, your manager already having made your coworkers put up multicolored string lights and an assortment of glittery holiday decorations all over the walls and in the windows ✨🎄🎁

-You would be lying if you said that the decor didn’t brighten up the place and make it ever so slightly easier to bare, but it was definitely still a draining job as it would usually be so much busier around this time of year

-You were working on one of the rare slightly-more-manageable nights when suddenly, you noticed your boyfriend Art strolling up to your bar casually, wearing his Santa suit so he could better blend in ✨

-Usually, even though you loved to see him, you preferred that he stayed home or just didn't come in to your workplace to visit you, not wanting to draw too much attention to your boyfriend as to not make anyone suspicious of a clown constantly showing up on the premises, but you suppose the Santa suit helped a bit. You watched as he comically shimmied into his seat, the harsh clang of his heavy trash bag still able to be heard amongst all the commotion of the restaurant; it didn't take long for the few people sitting on either side of him to get up and walk away without another glance back 🤡🎅

-Trying not to make it obvious that you had any relation to him, you walked over to the clown like you would any other customer; Art’s eyes lit up instantly, his slender fingers giddily waving at you and blowing you a heavily exaggerated kiss as he noticed your presence 😙

-You leaned over slightly and whispered “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be laying low for now”, concerned that his behavior seemed to be getting bolder and bolder as the days progressed closer to Christmas; you had come to terms with having to accept Art's lifestyle, but you were just worried about him getting in trouble or hurt- he's reassured you many times that everything's under control and that he'd be fine, but you still worried about him occasionally 🥺😓

-Art shrugged his shoulders playfully in response, pointing at himself and then back at you followed by a heart shape with his hands as he smiled at you innocently :3 🫶😃😋

-You sighed and shook your head. “Well, if you're gonna stay here for a bit, you're gonna at least need to have a drink so my managers don't get suspicious and kick you out for loitering on the property"

-Art pouted and folded his arms, the thick fabric of the Santa suit bunching up around his thinner frame, his tongue sticking out in disgust 😒

-You rolled your eyes. "I know you think alcohol is gross, babes, but I think I might know something I could make for you that you might actually like.” Art gave you a look as if to say “I don't believe you in the slightest- but good luck” and moved to rest his arms along the dark wooden bar, his focus shifting to absentmindedly running his fingertips back and force over its smooth surface

-You leaned over and grabbed a clean glass. “Alright, just give me a few minutes, I've got a couple of drink orders I need to fill first and then I'll bring you yours.” Art huffed silently, forever the impatient baby, but ultimately nodded in understanding 💖

-You turned and wandered back to the other side of the bar, grabbing a few extra glasses and placing them under the taps for the other patrons. Once their orders were fulfilled, then you got started on Art’s special cocktail 🥂

-You decided to go for something festive and classic, something very fruity and sweet that you knew would mesh with the clown’s tastebuds in a more pleasing manner than the hard liquor he had been offered in the past

-You decided to craft Art a cocktail made with moscato wine, white cranberry juice, lemon lime soda, and a smattering of whole cranberries on the top; perfect for the holiday season, and perfect for your clown boyfriend who loved his sweets 🥰🍹

-Strolling back over to his seat, you found Art reaching over the bar, trying to grab a handful of the little sharp wooden skewers you would use for fruit in certain drinks- when he noticed you a few steps away, Art quickly pulled his hand back into his lap and tried to feign innocence once more, pretending to whistle and look back and forth ⚔️🙄🤗😁

-You shook your head and smiled at him, placing a napkin down in front of him with his drink on top

-Art’s eyes went wide with curiosity at the sight of the bright cranberries floating atop the bubbly liquid, his eyes soon meeting yours again as he cocked his head slightly in heightened interest 😲😍

-”Trust me, you'll love it. I made sure it was extra sweet for my sweet-loving clown” you told him with a grin as you leaned against the counter, saying the last part in a hushed tone so only he could hear 😌💖🍬🍭

-Art tapped his finger against his temple and pointed back at you with it to signify he understood, his grin blossoming wider across his features bashfully at your words before glancing back down at the drink and wringing his hands together in excitement

-Before you could wait to see if he liked it, another patron across the bar waved you down. “I'll be back soon, I hope you enjoy it!” you told him, heading back to attend to your other customers

-You couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as you worked from across the bar as Art lifted the glass to his mouth and took a big sip, chugging the entire thing down in one go (he always drank way too quickly, you made a mental note to remind him to savor his drinks in the future lol)🍾😂

-The glass made contact with the bar, clinking pleasantly as it did so, Art’s eyes meeting yours again as he motioned for you to return to him when you could get the chance

-”Sooo, how was it? Have I finally found an alcoholic drink that you can actually enjoy?”, you asked him. Art’s smile grew as he nodded in rapid succession, patting his tummy to indicate that he thought it was delicious 🤤😋

-Your smile mirrored his as you leaned over to grab his empty glass, giving the counter a quick wipe to get rid of any condensation left behind with the cleaning rag in your other hand. “Good, I'm glad you liked it! I had a sneaking suspicion that you'd prefer something much sweeter.”

-Art nodded again and motioned with one finger up for you to wait a minute as he leaned over, grabbing his red spray painted garbage bag and rummaging through it 🎒

-Resting your elbows on the bar, you realized that Art was trying to give you money for the drink; an array of dirtied coins was plopped onto the bar top as he began counting out the loose change piece by piece (most of it consisting of primarily pennies) 🪙💰

-”Baby, don't worry about that, it's on the house. It was a practice drink for me anyway, and I don't mind buying a drink for good ole Saint Nick- especially for a super cute one at that.” You winked at him with a smirk as you placed more glasses under the taps, beginning to fill them up with various golden hued lagers for the other patrons' seemingly never ending slurry of orders 🍺🍻

-Art’s mouth opened in surprised shock before grinning again, waving the compliment off cheekily and kicking his feet a bit. With one swipe, he pushed all of the loose change back into the bag, the tiny circles of metal clanging around as they fell in amongst the array of other interesting items that he carried around with him 🤭

-The clown motioned to his wrist as if he was wearing a watch, silently asking you how much longer you had to be here for until your shift was over. “I’ve got about 2 more hours, love. And then I'll meet you back at home and we can cuddle and watch some movies, sound good?” ⏱️⌚️⏳

-Art smirked and nodded, satisfied as he stood up from the bar stool and stretched dramatically 🙆

-He grabbed his trash bag and ceremoniously slung it over his shoulder, blowing a kiss to you slyly before turning to leave the restaurant 😘💋

-You pretended to wipe down the bar as you watched him walk away, the bright red backside of his jolly disguise slowly becoming smaller in view before disappearing completely into the holiday hustle and bustle 🎁🎄🎅✨

Extra post bar scenario:

-When you arrived back home later that evening, you were surprised to find about 30 bottles of moscato and a huge pile of bagged cranberries that had definitely seen better days all lined up on your kitchen counter; you found Art sitting cross-legged on the couch in the living room, still wearing his Santa outfit and pretending to intently read a book, miming laughter at certain parts as his finger skimmed across the page he had randomly opened on 📚

-You confronted the clown about the bottles of wine, to which he simply put his hands up and shrugged his shoulders, the start of a signature smirk playfully skirting on the corners of his black painted mouth 😏😁😋💖

[ghostlymarauder]

After listening to Would You Fall in Love with Me Again one to many times I'd come to a couple conclusions, so buckle up while my theater kid brains rants about the beauty of the song

One of the things I absolutely love about Epic in general is Odysseus voice change through out the sagas—and, I mean, it's always Jorge Rivera Herrans singing but the change in his mind and personality is obvious, to me at least, in his voice, too. He sounds less joyful, more mature and definitely tainted by the ghosts of the things he'd done.

I mean, just listen to Just A Man and Odysseus back to back and tell me I'm wrong

Now, about Would You Fall in Love with Me Again in itself, there's something I can't help but notice and it's that Penelope sounds almost annoyed by the point she asks Odysseus to get rid of their wedding bed. But, of course, I don't think she's annoyed by the things Odysseus has done or the fact he feels how he feels, I think she's annoyed by the fact he dares to think she wouldn't love him anymore.

Because, I feel like his question 'Would you fall in love with me again?" isn't really a question of 'would you' but a question of 'could you' and that puts in doubt the strength of her love for him. And, yes, sure, Odysseus has been the one traveling around the world, suffering every tortured and pain, and whatever the fuck. But Penelope is right, she has been waiting, and you know how hard it is to wait?

How hard it is to keep your faith in something or someone and for twenty years assure yourself that it will happen even when you have no reasons whatsoever to believe so. For that, I think the fact that Odysseus is doubting that Penelope loves him just as much as he loves her actually infuriates her.

Which, is also why I love the ending to the song so much, because after Odysseus realizes what she's asking of him and he tells her so, she replies by telling him that, in fact, he's still her husband, the one and only she loves. And then she proceeds to explicitly tell him just how much she actually loves him and that the yearning he has felt all those is exactly the same one she has been feeling.

Also, on a more technical note about the song, I absolutely adore the late motiv of Just A Man after Penelope finishes her verse, because I feel it's a way to say 'see Odysseus, everything you've done and everything you've suffered has been worth it"

I don't know if this makes sense or if it is a little messy, but I wanted to share my thoughts because I'm a bitch for Greek Mythology AND musicals, Epic has taken me into a deep rabbit hole of analyzing both the Odyssey and the two hours twenty minutes of music of the musical. And, I needed to share my thoughts on this particular song.

[askhezureviews]

no spoilers/specifics but when you get to Ghostfuckers it becomes so obvious Brandon is doing the writing again

it's the closest helluva has gotten to its season 1 self in all of s2, and it's still not fantastic, if I'm being honest

there's only so much he can do to right the ship

ep11&12 ping right back into Goetia melodrama, because of course

OKKKKkkkk finally sat down and watched this episode!

Hey! Look, it's like, their first actual job in forever!!! They're actually going to the human world again, great!

I'm very relieved Brandon was brought in to rewrite this. I know some Viv fans were upset about the leaks, but I think it was actually a good thing these leaked and sparked enough outrage for Viv to cave in and change it because Millie unaliving herself for being a bad wife is completely inappropriate. I'd personally feel ashamed and embarrassed if I had wrote that. She claimed they had plans for Millie, that she will get her episode in season 2, but she didn't. Even with Brandon's assistance here, she really didn't. I'd say those leaks are proof she lied to her audience, however... at this point, Vivziepop is merely not self aware of her writing and doesn't comprehend the stereotyping she does to her own characters and their stories. So I don't think she lied, she's unable to comprehend that she isn't delivering on what she claims she will.

The episode establishes: -Blitz's business is now bankrupt. He has not paid his employees in over a month. -Wally Wackford knows IMP and hangs out with them?? / wants to hang out with them?? -Ghosts aren't real in Helluva / Hazbin universe -There's infestor demons that eat off angst I guess? First time we're ever seeing one

Seems like a good portion of this episode is a scooby doo reference. The montage scene was unnecessary, you could have cut it for time / budget.

~~~

Regarding Millie: She claims the most screen time, but this episode actually isn't about her. The main focus is on Blitz. It's Blitz's trauma, Blitz's pain, Blitz's melodrama, and she just happens to be on screen dealing with it. We get a small pinch of something, but I'll talk about it after this analysis:

Millie asks Loona to take care of Moxie for her. These two still haven't passed the bechdel test yet. The only thing I recall them talking about outside of the men in their life is when Loona takes a jab at Millie's age in season 1, which also isn't ideal.

Millie claims she "always has fun with Blitz" and that he is her "best friend" which is news to the audience. This is the first time they've ever hung out in an episode. "I've never had a real friend that I didn't wanna f*ck." But you DO want to f*ck her. Earlier in the episode, he had Millie punch a card he's used frequently. Unwavering loyalty in exchange for leaving Moxie and Millie alone on 1 date. In a single episode he seems to have changed his mind quite suddenly and I'm unsure why.

Millie's backstory is chalked up to "She left the farm to become a hitman in Wrath. The market for assassin's is actually inflated in Wrath, it's high competition, so she was in between jobs. Blitz finds her after she stole their kill, and offers to pay her double. She accepts (Even though he went back on this, he does not pay her double. In fact, she barely gets enough to survive between both her and Moxie.)" She's hired by IMP to do various assassin jobs, and then Blitz decides to move to a different ring and use humans as their new clientele. This is an extremely smart move for his business, because there's quite literally zero competition for this. Millie for some reason thinks she "won't fit in"(??? you don't need to?) because imps are only good for their muscle" This doesn't make sense for Millie to say here. If anything she should have been more insecure staying in Wrath BECAUSE she would be actively compared to the higher competition of her birthplace. Here, they've hit a gold mine.

"Blitz, you made me realize I could be anything! Not just a simple farm girl or underpaid goon." But you are. Millie IS a simple farm girl and underpaid goon. Assassins are extremely common jobs for imps in wrath. She has not subverted people's expectations nor does she have a unique job to that of an imp.

"My mom said sweat, blood, and hard work washes the tears right off!" - Okay now THIS is the first piece of Millie development we have received in perhaps ever!! This implies that Millie's mother/family were emotionally unavailable to her as a child. That whenever she was upset/miserable, she was taught to bury her sadness with work. Which indicates she's a workaholic who probably needs therapy / has trouble expressing emotions properly. This would be a direct cause/effect action that shaped her into who she is today. This is an actual real Millie moment, and it comes from a passing comment. I don't think the writers caught on to what they did here, but THIS is good Millie development! THIS is a genuine character trait that is all hers!

~~~

Some stuff that did get a genuine chuckle out of me:

"I should have been a theater critic, I have objectively correct opinions!"- Moxie , It's also nice to see Moxie attempting to be the brains of the operation again, trying to solve their financial crisis, even if there's no way to save it.

"Your husband is still a little fuckable." - That actually made me laugh too despite the context being a little confused

Anyhow, overall the episode felt like it could have been 15 min long. They should have shortened it. We didn't really get much Millie backstory or character development. Instead of being insecure about her womanhood due to stereotypes(bad wife), she's now insecure about her race/species due to stereotypes (inbred brute). It's still not the best, but it's better than the leaked storyboard. Otherwise the entire episode was basically Blitz wanting to fuck a ghost. Also Blitz's trauma... again. Felt like filler you could frankly delete.

[angelinthefire]

Re: @fieldofheathers-stuff

I think approaching Arcane as a tragedy is interesting because I actually never got a tragedy vibe from it. Probably because I believe it ends on a more hopeful note. Cait and Vi together, and particularly the airship sailing into the distance. Even without the implication that Jinx is alive and on board, it's just a hopeful image imo. (I'm also coming into this with the assumption that no body=not dead. For Jinx, that's obvious, and i think you're supposed to conclude that she's alive, or at least it's very open ended. But I also think that it would be easy to bring back Warwick, Jayce, and Viktor too.)

If we're talking about tragedy, I think it's useful to have a more specific definition. There's Greek tragedies - trying to escape fate and failing. And Shakespearian tragedies - when the hero's greatest strength becomes the source of their downfall. (And there’s probably others and more detail you can get into, but I'm just talking about what I remember from high school, lol)

And there are definitely story arcs that are mostly tragic, in both senses. Like Jinx trying to escape the fate of killing the people she cares about. And Viktor’s unswerving determination to make something of himself being both the cause of his rise and his fall.

But then there's a reversal at the end of their stories. Jinx uses her destructiveness to save Vi, her curse becomes her strength. Viktor's determination is met by Jayce's determination to save him, and the inescapability of their friendship. For both of them, the mechanic of the other kind of tragedy takes over. And both of them find a kind of redemption, rather than the utter ruin that's typical of tragedies.

(This is all just occurring to me now btw)

Re: @klorophile and the idea that season 2 should have gone differently.

I disagree with that. I think the two seasons really need to be taken as a unit. The fact that season 2 involved things becoming their opposite doesn't change that they're a single story - again in Shakespeare things becoming their opposite is part of the tragedy. I also don't think the end of season 1 really functions as an ending on its own either, to me it's more of a turning point.

I also think it's a mistake to say that the message is that "you pay the consequences for your actions." That’s punishment, not consequences. Consequences can be unforseen, they can be chaotic, they can be entirely disproportionate. I think that's established very early on.

I also want to point out that in my original post, I'm talking about plot, not themes. Like the way the story is structured. It's more about characters dealing with stuff than trying to accomplish stuff.

If "consequnces" are a theme, I don't think the show is saying that consequences are payment for wrongs. It's just that everything is connected. Everything is part of a chain of actions and reactions, that you cannot control. At most, the show is saying that it's vain to think that you can plan and forsee all the consequences of your actions.

And season 2 was absolutely necessary for that, because season 2 is when things really got chaotic and out of control.

It's not about characters having to pay consequences. It's about characters having the "oh shit, this isn't what I thought it would be" realization. Every character goes through that. Where they get what they thought they wanted, but it comes along with something unexpected and unwanted.

For Caitlyn, she's always had a very strong sense of justice, and in season 1 she's always fighting against those with more power than her. And then in season 2 she is in a position of power, and she immediately does bad things. Her sense of justice doesn't matter. No one in power is innocent. That's what I get from her arc, and whether or not she suffers as a result of her actions is irrelevant. (even though she does lose an eye. that's pretty serious). She failed and she has to live with the knowledge that she failed. The consequence of her failure is that she brought war to her city.

With Jinx, it's very heavily implied that she did not die, that she escaped the explosion through the air ducts and left Piltover, that she broke the cycle and walked away. Which is what she wanted, she wanted to be free from the cycle of killing and death.

But even if you do take her ending in season 2 as a true death. She's not paying a price for her mistakes, not at all. There's a schnee video that gives a really good take on this, even though I disagree with him and belive that Jinx is alive. All Jinx ever wanted was to help the people she cares about. But time after time, she's cursed, she hurts them instead. Even when she starts to turn things around, Isha dies anyways. So Jinx sacrificing herself for Vi is a way for her to finally save her sister. Blowing up their father figure with the monkey bomb saves the day instead of destroying everything. (But again, she's not really dead).

And to reiterate: the thing that changes about consequences for season 2 is that they become chaotic and unpredictable. This is described in the "pass me a tome" scene. There's a series of clear actions and reactions, but at a certain point, if a system is agitated too much, it starts producing unintended outcomes. That's what the wild rune is, that's what Isha falling into Jinx's life is, that's what Warwick is. Order and chaos is another big theme in the show, and season 1 covered the order side of things, it involved science mastering magic. Season 2 is the chaotic outburst that follows.

Regarding Viktor and Jayce, Viktor was the one who had to be stopped most of all, because Viktor was the one trying to remove disorder from the world. Jayce believed hextech was a curse because it created the apocalypse world that he experienced, but for that to come about it required Viktor as a catalyst, so Viktor being taken out was more important than eliminating hextech. The role that Ekko plays is very simply communicated in the line, "that device can't be". It's the contradiction that still exists despite all of Viktor's efforts that breaks through his armour.

For Vi and Jinx, yes they can mend their relationship and relate to each other as equals, but like I said in my original post, that's not really the point of their story. They can be sisters again, they can still love eachother despite everything each of them has done. But they're still stuck in a cycle. What Jinx needs most of all is not a good relationship with Vi, what she needs is a fresh start. She doesn't need to rewrite her story, she needs to build something new. And saving Vi, fixing their relationship, means that Jinx can start fresh without that baggage weighing her down.

And this comes back to my reply to fieldofheathers-stuff. In that I think Arcane is structured like a tragedy, but it's also not. I don't think it has a totally sad ending. Things are melancholy for Mel and Ekko. But Jinx is free to start something new. Vi and Cait get to be in love. Even Jayce and Viktor, their story ended with love and camaraderie.

Every work of fiction involves the creators pushing the characters in a certain direction because they want it to end a certain way. The real question is how natural it feels. I think Arcane does feel natural, because the characters do not wind up with the endings they "deserve", they end in a place that feels organic considering their journeys and their conditions.

I've been thinking about how I would most concisely sum up the plot of Acane. Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not.

And I think the most concise way to put it is that Arcane is about consequences. The first episode starts with an explosion, that the characters spend the rest of the arc dealing with the repercussions of. And then the first arc ends with two massive events - Powder killing her family and the invention of hextech - that they spend the entire rest of the show dealing with.

I think most of the stories we get from Western media are about achieving or accomplishing something, or the failure to achieve something. And you can frame Arcane in those terms. But I think to best understand the story, you have to step out of that typical framework. Because the thing with an achievement-based story is that there is a particular end goal in mind, and I don't think Arcand has that.

Like take Vi and Jinx, for example. A typical way to frame their story would be that it's about two sisters trying to rebuild their relationship. That presupposes a certain ending: They either succeed or fail at their relationship, and that's what the focus is on.

But it's not about that. It's about - how do you deal with an event that fundamentally changes you?

In season 1, Vi's answer was to recapture what things were like before. In season 2, they try to redo the past (saving Vander) and get a different outcome, but that's impossible. The answer comes with Ekko - to build something new.

And this is all over the show - action and reaction, how the arcane wakes up, killing is a cycle.

[misanthrapologist]

okay I have some stuff I wanna spout about nowhere and ivan himself now having the official lyrics and various translations. someone please listen to my ramblings.

starting off this song is clearly about him and his struggles about himself and his whole life. we see this overall from the lyrics and of course the cover.

if black sorrow was hopeless then this is beyond hopeless. the "this/that always happens to me" is just a clear sign right off the bat about this along with the "it's so typical, typical to me" it's it's obvious just how used to always being in these awful situations he is "that's just how it is" and how it'll always be, how it'll end "it's stained with blood" (can he stop that man you just jinxed your own pretty much suicide) he's always expected a death that's obviously not going to be that normal or say "happy" for lack of me thinking of a better word of a death, but it's okay, he's content with that cause it's what would've always happened no matter what. it's always how everything goes for him. fate sealed to an awful end from the beginning of his life.

the dream and hope slowly going from rose to purple to black once again shows this hope slipping away never to be fully back again no matter what. even if for a second he gains a bit of hope back, it's pointless. it'll always end wrong and it's back to his usual life. "wake up, wake up in my overwhelming daily/beautiful life. is it for real? an existence like dust, I can't stand to look at it, close my eyes and my mind" he's clearly unhappy with his life (to a point) and himself, preffering to look away, ignore it and forget as much as he can as to not stress about it anymore than necessary. it's easier that way rather than facing it or communicating about it at all. and we know how he is when it comes to all that. he's shit at it and doesn't know how to really do it so obviously that's what he does. the "is it for real?" is honestly kind of funny tbh. yet so meaningful. in a way it could mean that it's hard to believe what's happening and that it's better than anything he ever had in the slums or in general. maybe a feeling of unworthiness of these things in regards to the "beautiful life" line, since although not the best, again, better than anything he could've ever wished for. or maybe something else.

we already knew he does not like himself and is truthfully not confident. he certainly.attempts to be as we see from the act/personality he puts on but even then he ends it off with a way to slightly jab at himself as we see in his interview where when asked about his charm he says he has more flaws and his looks being "quite average". along with a mention about his teeth or rather tooth. here I'd like to mention the line "with that revolting tooth"/"with these disgusting teeth" this stuck out to me since it's very obviously him once again hating on himself. it's clearly a part many like/mention about him a lot. but it's him, who he is and of course he hates it. the constant descriptions of him from the team and himself being that he's "twisted" and variations of that further show just how deep this hatred goes. this feeling of abnormality and wrongness. the feeling you're so vastly different from everyone and needing to learn how to be normal and like the others in order to fit in and be liked. an act. one he's put up his whole life nearly down to his death before he does everything at the end of round 6. even in official arts of him being genuine in canon we don't see much except strong distress. which is so utterly fitting to how he thinks and is. of course he's distressed whenever he's alone and himself, putting on an act so different from himself pretty much all day every day of your life really takes that kind of toll on you. I don't blame him for looking so pissed off when he's alone it's stressful pretending to be someone who you're not, someone who you had to learn to be to survive, someone who you were forced to perfect to the best of your abilities to be likeable in some way, someone who may as well be their own separate person at that point. (I could go on and on but I have so much else to talk about my bad.)

"this painful wound that keeps getting worse, I become more and more numb to it" says a lot and could be referring to many different things. but why not everything? I see it as this reffering once again to his life as a whole and way of living as an act. after so many years, you get used to this the more you do it and the more things happen.

"In the dark city lights I can't find anyone, anyone, anyone" this could mean a variety of things really. having no one to truly relate to as a metaphor of sorts or just being alone in the past in the slums or both even. a lot if not most of these lyrics as seen tie back to the way he lives and thinks about himself, further making me believe this song truly is just a better, even clearer look at his true self.

now with lyrics I thought had one meaning even before the official release that just become less of a reach on my end that I'll talk about more broken up. "that's just the kind of kid he is, so laugh, laugh because he can't do anything" this one I immediately think about his issue about not presenting and being like everyone else having to learn to be "human" in a sense. (along with his again self deprecation being the one writing these and singing them) "can't do anything" makes me believe this even more since he didn't really know how to express anything considered human before being taught how to or being forced to teach himself for example how to smile. a basic human action everyone naturally knows how to do. but he doesn't. he had to learn and be forced to do things like that. observing people and picking up how to do things "right". "no one cares about him, there's nowhere in the world for him to rest, that's just how he is" again reffering to his true nature. feeling uncared for and "rightfully" hated in your own eyes. wanting to change and trying to change and pretending yet knowing it'll never truly be real or enough to feel something. "rest" here could either mean literally as in he doesn't get a damn break, never really had anywhere to go at all and has been alone his whole life or doesn't get a break from faking everything I mean with such insane security and obviously being under such pressure it's hard to fully put your guard down anywhere. though I won't say only one since I honestly think it could once again have many meanings, cause most things he says in this song can be taken in different ways that still perfectly fit with his character. "he's smooth, flexible, quite easy" and the rest of this verse coullddddd be reffering to his act. I think so at least. I already said how I feel about that no need to repeat myself.

that's a lot and honestly all I got without repeating myself for the rest I hope this was coherent enough and makes at least some sense. I just wanted to get all this out my system and if anyone has anything to add go ahead and uhbmy bad for getting a little personal but writing all this and thinking about it is honestly therapeutic?? in a way. I so awfully and deeply relate to this guy half the time I think or talk about him and his issues I stop and think about how I'm basically describing myself. he's truly such an insanely well written and interesting character I'm not wven surprised I latched onto him so much I don't even really know what I'm doing okay bye :3

[stacygetsit]

Is Nicola spending her birthday with Jake? Are there photos yet?

🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ lord help me!!!

We got no photos and sometimes I'm gonna point out the obvious. But sometimes you don't want a big birthday bash. Sometimes you just wanna relax and have a small get together with your close people. Could this have included Jake? Yes maybe or maybe it was just her and Luke.

[nthspecialll]

I've always personally theorized Dutch being bipolar. NOT that is the entire cause or fault for his actions, as that would border on... ick. I do think he was just a narcissist alone, as a person, and while might have cared for others he did put himself first. But while I can point fingers at his obvious mental decline in later chapters, I would just even bring up the beginning? His erratic assumptions stemming from paranoia; "you'll betray me in the end, Arthur, you seem the type." such a WILD thing to say to the man that's stuck by your side for twenty years and for the most part unprompted (while they leave colter, it is implied some doubt has been bubbling about). Anyway it screamed bipolar to me, the way his camp interactions with not just Arthur fluctuate dramatically. I don't believe this has anything to do with the trolley either, just that he was a mentally ill man. Again, I feel like I should stress i am in no way implying this would be to blame for his actions or defend them, but I can't help but feel the similarities to my own diagnosed bipolar mother when playing the game

I was some time ago asked to look into what I would think Dutch had and looked over a lot of online discourse and "requirements" and stuff like it. I obviously can't talk about your mother's bipolar or anything similar, but I can point out something a diagosed bipolar player said about Dutch pointing at not having bipolar:

"That said, I've yet to see his crash. The mania, which separates bipolar from major depression, can't just go on forever."

In chapter 1-4 it does seem like he has episodes, but from 5 to well... His death, he seems to just keep going and keep going, there isn't a crash.