#disabled people and children are viewed as burdens if there’s no way for them to ‘compensate’ for these things

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

the parallels between hatred of children for not knowing how to do things like emotional regulation or fine motor skills parallels with a lot of attitudes around disabilities that I hadn’t made the connection with before

[insaniquariumfish]

Suffering is the one subject where the more personal experience you have and the more qualified you are to speak on it, the less seriously people take you. "You're only an antinatalist because you've had a miserable life surrounded by miserable people!" Um, yeah. That's exactly right. How exactly does my being intimately aware of how horrible suffering can be and how severely it can impact people make my perspective on it less legitimate? Would you tell a disabled person, or somone who worked with disabled people, who was advocating for better community support for disabled people, that their views were irrationally skewed because they themselves were disabled, or because they were too involved with others who were disabled? Would you tell someone who was critical of capitalism, because of all of the poverty they've witnessed as a result of it, that they're too biased by their concern for the poor to have a reasonable take on the issue? Would you tell someone who went through the foster care system, and felt that we should improve it, that they only felt that way because they personally were a victim of it, implying that their victimhood did not itself constitute legitimate evidence towards the foster care system's failures?

"You only think the way you do about X because you're a personal victim of X/you've witnessed so much harm caused by X, and your thoughts on X are therefore invalid" is the most blatantly unempathetic and moronic take possible on anything, but this is the exact "argument" I get from people whenever the X in question is suffering itself. It's the same "argument" that is used to shut down criticism of ideologies ("you only hate religion because it harmed you and/or other people"), political beliefs ("you only disagree with X policy because it harms you and/or other people"), and unjust systems of all kinds ("you only want things to be different because the status quo harms you and/or other people"). Like, yeah, you're right, I do only have the perspective I do because harm is being caused and harm is wrong and bad. That's called having empathy. If I can go through something so awful that it makes my life not worth living, then I don't even need to see firsthand how others might suffer, I just know already that other people can suffer that much, because I am human and other people are human, too, and that knowledge would be enough to go off of on its own. But I'm not just relying on my personal experience, I'm also taking into account the suffering I have seen others endure, both firsthand and indirectly, and again it's called having empathy. I understand that other people's pain is just as significant as, and is equally as unjust as, my own pain. Every person who endures decades of torment is just as much a victim as I would be if I went through the same thing. They are just as underserving of their fates as I would be if I were them.

I truly think that the thing that separates antinatalists from pronatalists at the end of the day is their capacity for empathy. Even pronatalists who are dedicated to making the world a better place are unwilling to earnestly acknowledge how wretched the world they are trying to improve really is, and the true human cost of that wretchedness being perpetuated, even if only indirectly. They see nothing wrong with new people being subjected to the very evils they have dedicated themselves to fighting. And they see nothing wrong with saddling their own children with the burden of at once being victim to, and participating in, that battle. They whine and rant about how awful the things they and others are subjected to are, they are profusely vocal about the horrors and evils that they have dedicated themselves to exposing and combating, and yet, in their minds, even the most vile manifestations of those evils are not so evil that they warrant preventing others from being able to fall victim to them in the first place. In their minds, there simply is no amount of suffering so severe, or kind of suffering so heinous, that it is not excused or justified or balanced out when the scale is zoomed out and it is considered as part of the larger whole. Life is hell, they'll say, right up until you insist that hell is no place for a child, and then, suddenly, life is a gift. Their empathy, no matter how fervent it may seem, is ultimately shallow and superficial, easily overpowered by their desire to deny the true horror and weight of suffering.

[catgirl-catboy]

"I dont support it in real life!"

Then why write about it? If for coping purposes, why post it online for others (especially actual predators) to see and consume? Then why portray those things in a positive light instead of condemning them?And you're seriously going to tell me that just because as an adult you want to see a fictional minor (that mind you, is usually designed to resemble an actual child) depicted in sexual situations doesn't mean you don't share that same view concerning children in real life? You find fictional minors attractive but not real ones? Why does the line between finding someone who is (and usually also looks like) a child sexually attractive get drawn at whether the child is real or not? I'm not calling anyone pedophiles, but if the shoe fits... And also no, I am not talking about 18 y/os finding 17 y/os attractive. Use your brain. Creating content of underaged characters is still questionable regardless of age, however.

Then why write about it? Because I want to. Why I want to is a very personal question.

If for coping purposes, why post it online for others (especially actual predators) to see and consume?

To get feedback of my writing, which is a social activity! If your logic is that a predator might enjoy something, then there's no ethical way to create.

And you're seriously going to tell me that just because as an adult you want to see a fictional minor (that mind you, is usually designed to resemble an actual child) depicted in sexual situations doesn't mean you don't share that same view concerning children in real life?

I don't read smut. I barely write smut. This is an unfounded assumption. Also, that is using the slippery slope fallacy. There are many things in fiction I write about that I don't condone in real life, such as murder, abuse, graphic bodily harm, and child endangerment.

The assumption that people condone shit they read and write about is kind of weird to me, mate.

You find fictional minors attractive but not real ones?

Yes, even though I've only had a handful of underage fictional crushes since I've turned 18. (Miu Iruma, currently.)

In 90% of cases, teenaged fictional characters look, are voiced by, and act like adults. The narrative treats them as adults. If a character's age isn't directly relevant to the plot, why care about it?

Why does the line between finding someone who is (and usually also looks like) a child sexually attractive get drawn at whether the child is real or not?

A very good question! The answer is because a real child is harmed, while a fictional one isn't. Paedophilia isn't bad due to the fact its gross (and I do find it gross.), its bad because someone gets hurt!

The only time fictional characters get hurt, is when we authors/readers IMAGINE them getting hurt. All harm done is imaginary.

Furthermore, I really dislike you using 'looks like a child' here. Thats body shaming, since there is a large portion of adults that happen to look like children. A lot of disabled people are also infantilized for similar reasons. Looks have nothing to do with the morality of an act.

Creating content of underaged characters is still questionable regardless of age, however.

Here are my ao3 warnings. My ao3 is SHSL_Angstlord if you'd like to make sure I'm not lying. When you accuse someone of being a predator, the burden of proof is on you to provide actual evidence.

[uncommon-etc]

In my job I provide support to a lot of people who have recently become disabled, mostly during middle age (one in three of us will have a disability in our lifetimes, after all) the one line I hear over and over again is 'I never thought it would happen to me' and it's usually said as though being disabled is a dreadful burden

I was born with my disabilities and have always felt empowered by the perspective they give me, and the creativity I've acquired from having to find complex ways around otherwise ordinary situations, but for people who have gone through life able-bodied and never had to think about what it's like on the other side of the coin it can be so much more difficult, and it doesn't need to be.

I know how to advocate for myself at work, because I've always had to, and I know which organisations will help me, whether it's speaking to my union rep or ACAS about an employment issue, requesting support from an advocacy service, or knowing which benefits to apply for. This stuff is second-nature to me now, but because we treat disabled people like an invisible sub-section of society, no-one teaches it to you. And how can anyone empower themselves without knowledge?

If all children were taught that they could become disabled one day, and how to adapt if they did, it would indeed reshape society to allow everyone to play a part in it, but in order to do so we need to address the difference in attitudes among disabled people themselves.

Chances are if you've made it into early middle-age, you've spent at least 10-15 years participating in the workforce, you've likely had a few serious inter-personal relationships (romantic or otherwise) and you may even have children (sometimes grandchildren if you had children young) so you probably think you know how the world works.

Suddenly you're left with a life-changing injury, or the ramifications of cancer-treatment, or you develop a chronic condition, or your musculoskeletal issues that for years you put down as a 'bad back' turn into something much more serious, and you have to learn not only a new way to live, and new standards of living, but that society no longer views you the way it did before.

I used to think it was silly that those who became disabled seemed to exist in a separate category to those of us who were born disabled, as though they were newly arrived immigrants to a country the rest of us knew well, but having a 'before' and 'after' to the moment you began to be discrimminated against, marginalised, and ignored is a very different experience to gradually realising that you're 'different' from the other kids at your school.

Many people who are born disabled, especially those with sensory issues, congenital limb differences, neurological differences, and learning disabilities have no desire to be 'fixed'. They have healthy bodies which over time will often find ways of doing all the same things their abled peers do, whether it's with the support of adaptive devices, or (if funding for such devices isn't available) their own instinctive knack for figuring things out. My partner didn't initially believe me when I pointed out many paralympic athletes would beat able-bodied athletes in the same sport, but it's a fact, you really think you can outrun a guy with carbon-fibre blades and a lifetime of knowing how to sprint without legs on your scrawny sprainable ones?

The recently-disabled, by contrast, may have long-term, complex health conditions which they learn to associate with being disabled even if they're secondary to the disability itself. A fifty-something with COPD and mobility issues from damaged lungs is not 'healthy' in the same way a 20-something with coclear implants who goes running on weekends, or a lifelong wheelchair user who undertakes regular physio is.

And because those who become disabled are so much more prone to depression, it's from them that we get these myths that disabled bodies are automatically unhealthy and undesireable, that being disabled is worse than being able-bodied, and that disability is some sort of curse you have to endure as punishment for driving recklessly or working on building sites without the right safety equipment.

I try to tread a fine line between being compassionate and empathetic to those who have become disabled and are feeling pretty down about it, and reminding them that their experiences are not universal, lest them continue to define how able-bodied people view us and perceive our experiences. It's a line that society would also do well to learn how to tread.

Next time someone tells you they miss being able to go into town on their own, or take regular showers, or eat in restaurants, instead of saying 'that must be so difficult for you...' try saying 'what can I do to make it easier?' if you can't directly help a friend or family member with a disability (i.e. by giving them lifts, helping out at home, or buying them that pair of noise-cancelling headphones for christmas so train journeys are no longer hell, you can still campaign for better accessibility, and greater equity of service. After all, it absolutely could be you, at any time. You're not invincible. And that's okay, as long as we smash abelism before it comes for you too.

I think one reason ableism is so prevalent is because it requires able bodied people to ditch the invincibility complex that acts as their security blanket. Anyone can become disabled at any time. No one is immune to the possibility. Letting yourself truly understand means facing your own mortality, which makes people extremely uncomfortable. But it is absolutely necessary in the fight for accessibility. Discomfort fuels change, and we need change.

[wsitho123]

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[tarobytez]

disability in the Six Of Crows Duology; an analysis of Kaz Brekker, Wylan Van Eck, and the fandom’s treatment of them.

****Note: I originally wrote this for a tiktok series, which im still going to do, but i wanted to post here as well bc tumblr is major contributor to what im going to talk about

CW: ableism, filicide, abuse

In the Six of Crows duology, Leigh Bardugo delicately subverts and melds harmful disability tropes into her narrative, unpacking them in a way that I, as a disabled person, found immensely refreshing and…. just brilliant. 

But what did you all do with that? Well, you fucked it up. Instead of critically looking at the characters, y’all just chose to be ableist. 

For the next few videos paragraphs im going to unpack disability theory (largely the stuff surrounding media, for obvious reasons) and how it relates to Six Of Crows and the characterization of Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck, then how, despite their brilliant writing, y’all completely overlooked the actual text and continuously revert them to ableist cariactures.

Disclaimer: 1. Shocker - i am disabled. I have also extensively researched disability theory and am very active in the disabled community. Basically, I know my shit. 2. im going to be mad in these videos this analysis. Because the way y’all have been acting has been going on for a long ass time and im fuckin sick of it. I don’t give a shit about non-disabled feelings, die mad

Firstly, I’m going to discuss Kaz, his play on the stereotypical “mean cripple” trope and how Bardugo subverts it, his cane, and disabled rage. Then, I am going to discuss Wylan, the “inspiration porn” stereotype, caregivers / parents, and the social model of disability. Finally, I will then explain the problems in the fandom from my perspective as a disabled person, largely when it comes to wylan, bc yall cant leave that boy tf alone.

Kaz Brekker

Think of a character who uses a cane (obviously not Kaz). Now, are they evil, dubiously moral, or just an asshole in general? Because nearly example I can think of is: whether it be Lots’O from Toy Story, Lucius Malfoy, or even Scrooge and Mr.Gold from Once Upon A Time all have canes (the last two even having their canes appear less and less as they become better people)

The mean/evil cripple trope is far more common than you would think. Villains with different bodies are confined to the role of “evil”. To quote TV Tropes, who I think did a brilliant job on explaining it “The first is rooted in eugenics-based ideas linking disability or other physical deformities with a "natural" predisposition towards madness, criminality, vice, etc. The Rule of Symbolism is often at work here, since a "crippled" body can be used to represent a "crippled" soul — and indeed, a disabled villain is usually put in contrast to a morally upright and physically "perfect" hero. Whether consciously on the part of the writer or not, this can reinforce cultural ideas of disability making a person inherently inferior or negative, much in the same way the Sissy Villain or Depraved Homosexual trope associate sexual and gender nonconformity with evil. ”

Our introduction to Kaz affirms this notion of him being bad or morally bankrupt, with “Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason”, etc. This mythologized version of himself, the “bastard of the barrel” actively fed into this misconception. But, as we the audience are privy to his inner thoughts, know that he is just a teenager like every other Crow. He is complex, his disability isn’t this tragic backstory, he just fell off a roof. It’s not his main motivation, nor does he curse revenge for making him a cripple - it is just another part of who he is. 

His cane (though the shows version fills me with rage but-) is an extension of Kaz - he fights with it, but it has a purpose. Another common thing in media is for canes to be simply accessories, but while Kaz’ cane is fashionable, it has purpose.

The quote “There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.” is so fucking powerful. Kaz does not want nor need a cure - its said in Crooked Kingdom that his leg could most likely be healed, but he chooses not to. Abled-bodied people tend to dismiss this thought as Kaz being stubborn but it shows a reality of acceptance of his disability that is just, so refreshing.

In chapter 22 of SOC, we see disabled rage done right - when he is called a cripple by the Fjerdan inmate, Kaz is pissed - the important detail being that he is pissed at the Fjerdan, at society for ableism, not blaming it on being disabled or wishing he could be normal. He takes action, dislocating the asshole’s shoulder and proving to him, and to a lesser extent, himself, that he is just as capable as anyone else, not in spite of, but because he is disabled. And that is the point of Kaz, harking back to the line that “there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken”. 

I cried on numerous occasions while reading the SOC duology, but the parts I highlighted in this section especially so. I, as many other disabled people do, have had a long and tumultuous relationship with our disability/es, and for many still struggle. But Kaz Brekker gave me an empowered disabled character who accepts themselves, and that means the world to me. 

Keeping that in mind, I hope you can understand why it hurts so much to disabled people when you either erase Kaz’s disability (whether through cosplay or fanfiction), or portray him as a “broken boy uwu”, especially implying that he would want a cure. That flies in the face of canon and is inherently fucking ableist. (if u think im mad wait until the next section)

Next, we have Wylan.  

Oh fucking boy. 

I love Wylan so fucking much, and y’all just do not seem to understand his character? Like at all? Since this is disability-centric, I’m not going to discuss how the intersection of his queerness also contributes to these issues, but trust me when I say it’s a contributing factor to what i'm going to say.

Wylan, motherfucking Van Eck. If you ableist pricks don’t take ur fucking hands off him right now im going to fight you. I see Wylan as a subversion another, and in my opinion more insidious stereotype pf disabled people - inspiration porn.

Cara Liebowitz in a 2015 article on the blog The Body Is Not An Apology explains in greater detail how inspiration porn is impactful in real life, but media is a major contributing factor to this reality. The technical definition is “the portrayal of people with disabilities as inspirational solely or in part on the basis of their disability” - but that does not cover it fully. 

Inspiration porn does lasting damage on the disabled community as it implies that disability is a negative that you need to “overcome” or “triumph” instead of something one can feel proud of. It exploits disabled people for the development of non-disabled people, and in media often the white male protagonist. Framing disability as inherently negative perpetuates ideals of eugenics and cures - see Autism $peaks’ “I Am Autism” ad. Inspiration porn is also incredibly patronizing as it implies that we cannot take care of ourselves, or do things like non-disabled people do. Because i stg some of you tend to think that we just sit around all day wishing we weren’t disabled. 

Another important theory ideal that is necessary when thinking about Wylan is the experience of feeling like a burden simply for needing help or accommodations. This is especially true when it comes to familial relationships, and internalized ableism.

The rhetoric that Wylan’s father drilled into his head, that he is “defective”, “a mistake”, and “needs to be corrected”, that he (Jan) was “cursed with a moron for a child” is a long held belief that disabled people hear relentlessly. And while many see Van Eck’s attempted murder of Wylan as “preposturous” and overall something that you would never think happens today - filicide (a parent murdering their child) is more common than you would like to believe. Without even mentioning the countless and often unreported deaths of disabled people due to lack of / insufficient / neglectful medical care, in a study on children who died from the result of household abuse, 40 of 42 of them (95%) were diagnosed with disabilities. Van Eck is not some caricature of ableist ideals - he is a real reflection on how many people and family members view disability. 

Circling back to how Wylan unpacks the inspiration porn trope - he is 3 dimensional, he is not only used to develop the other characters, he is just *chefs kiss* Leigh, imo, put so much love and care into the creation of Wylan and his story and character growth that is representative of a larger feeling in the disabled community. 

That being said, what you non-disabled motherfuckers have done to him.

The “haha Wylan can’t read” jokes aren’t and were not funny. Y’all literally boiled down everything Wylan is to him being dyslexic. And it’s like,,,, the only thing you can say about him. You ignore every other part of him other than his disability, and then mock him for it. There’s so much you can say about Wylan - simping for Jesper, being band kid and playing the fuckin flute, literally anything else. But no, you just chose to mock his disability, excellent fucking job!

Next up on “ableds stfu” - infantilization! y’all are so fucking condescending to Wylan, and treat him like a fucking toddler. And while partly it is due to his sexuality i think a larger portion is him being disabled. Its in the same vein of people who think that Wylan and Jesper are romantically one sided, and that Jesper only kind of liked Wylan, despite the canon evidence of him loving Wylan just as much. You all view him as a “smol bean”, who needs protecting, and care, when Wylan is the opposite of that. He is a fucking demolitions expert who suggested waking up sleeping men to kill them - what about that says “uwu”. You are treating Wylan as a burden to Jesper and the other Crows when he is an immensely valuable, fully autonomous disabled person - you all just view him as damaged. 

And before I get a comment saying that “uhhh Wylan isn’t real why do you care” while Wylan may not be real, how you all view him and treat him has real fucking impacts and informs how you treat people like me. If someone called me an “uwu baby boy” they’d get a fist square in the fucking jaw. Fiction informs how we perceive the world and y’all are making it super fucking clear how you see disabled people. 

Finally, I wanted to talk about how the social model of disability is portrayed through Wylan. For those who are unaware, the social model of disability contrasts the medical model, that views the disability itself as the problem, that needs to be cured, whereas the social model essentially boils down to creating an accommodating society, where disability acceptance and pride is the goal. And we see this with Wylan - he is able to manage his father’s estate, with Jesper’s assistance to help him read documents. And this is not out of pity or charity, but an act of love. It is not portrayed as this almighty act for Jesper to play saviour, just a given, which is incredibly important to show, especially for someone who has been abused by family for his disability like Wylan, that he is accepted. 

Yet, I still see people hold up Jesper on a pedestal for “putting up with” Wylan, as if loving a disabled person deserves a fucking pat on the back. It’s genuinely exhausting trying to engage with a work I love so much with a fandom that thinks so little of me and my community. It fucking shows. 

Overall, Leigh Bardugo as a disabled person wrote two incredibly meticulous and empowered disabled characters, and due to either lack of reading comprehension, ableism, or a quirky mix of both, the fandom has ignored canon and the experiences of disabled people for…. shits and giggles i guess. And yes, there are issues with the Grishaverse and disability representation - while I haven’t finished them yet so I do not have an opinion on it, people have been discussing issues in the KOS duology with ableist ideals. This mini series was no way indicative of the entire disabled experience, nor does it represent my entire view on the representation as a whole. These things need to be met critically in our community, and talked about with disabled voices at the forefront. For example, the limited perspective we get of Wylan and Kaz being both white men, does not account for a large portion of the disabled community and the intersection of multiple identities.

All-in-all, Critique media, but do not forget to also critique fandom spaces. Alternatively, just shut the fuck up :)

happy fucking disability pride month, ig

[you-have-been-frizzled]

Shade

it is seen as a dangerous ability because Elven society is built so heavily on light. they are often seen as untrustworthy and suspicious, which results in a lot of Shades being mistreated even as children. when a Shade gets in trouble with the law their point of view is always seen as skewed, which results in a lot of them being banished unfairly.

they can shadow whisper which is when a Shades shadow carries their consciousness so only the receiver can hear, it tends to be used when a Shade wants to have a private conversation or just doesn’t feel like speaking out loud. they can disguise someone with so the are difficult to see, but this trick doesn’t work up close. they can also take a reading of a person’s potential for darkness by scanning the Shadowvapor in their minds, the more shadow vapor the more secrets, which is one of the reasons they are not trusted. no one what’s anyone to know how many secrets they have.

while it is wildly unknown Shades are capable of Shadow leaping, but it is quite different than light leaping the Direct opposite actually. they can compact their molecules down into shadow vapor and leap from shadow to shadow, but they need to be able to see the shadow to leap to it. so they can’t leave the location they are at because they can’t leap any farther than they can see. while it can be faster than walking, it can quickly get exhausting because it take five times as much focus than light leaping. fading is just as possible when it comes to Shadow leaping. if someone takes to long to find a shadow to leap to while in the form of Shadowvapor, the Shadowvapor will take over their body until they are nothing but pure Shadowvapor. while fading into light doesn’t hurt, fading into shadows will feel like the shadows are suffocating and compressing you. the only way be saved is to have another Shade pull them out, but they can fade as well if they are not strong enough.

some Shades can control Shadowflux but because most of Elven Society doesn’t know it exists and those who do pretend it doesn’t, the number Shades that are capable of controlling it are unknown. Shadowflux takes complete confidence to manipulate if the person shows signs of fear or weakness, it will not listen. it can be used to give people echos that are a burden to bare and to permanently disable a Psionipaths ability to create force fields. it will scar the users hands and the scars will the grow the more Shadowflux is used. the scars vary from person to person and no two person scars look the same. Shadowflux isn’t only used as a weapon it can be used to create designs on any surface or to create Shade portholes one of which was referred to by the Neverseen as the Lodestar.

Shades are hypersensitive to light and get sunburned incredibly easily, and they need to wear sunglasses in the sun or where the lights are bright. because of this most Shades are incredibly pale and don’t like to go out in the sun. because of this and their secretive tendencies from years of being mistreated, they are the inspiration for the stories of Vampires.

[postsforposting]

>So not to stir the pot,

>because you're so mired by negativity and are stuck in it so constantly that even the slightest indication that your life and condition might not be shit

>Or are you just so deep in your pit

>Not to be a pot stirrer or anything. I'm not trying to pounce on or "blame" anyone for anything, and of course its difficult or impossible to get yourself out of that pit on a whim. But thinking and acknowledging is the first step.

>and they've also been the only people who I can openly and honestly talk about my real mental health struggles with when needed.

do i really gotta explicitly say "what the fuck" and point out the sneering judgement and bigotry and self contradiction here? "i don't wanna be a cunt but here let me be a bigoted denialist cunt" isn't an excuse for acting like a cunt. "false dichotomy" as previously said is not merely a charitable view of this, it's divine grace.

op is displaying the christian "hate the sin not the sinner" attitude.

you're mad that some people don't fart sunshine, and you're pissed off they won't come hear your fucking gospel to be saved from their sins of....having human emotions and being factual about their own lives. you know, like fundy christians do to their children. smile and praise the lord for every test of faith he sends you, lest you be sent to eternal torture in hell!!!!! even they let people talk about their struggles though. you are literally saying no one can talk honestly while claiming everyone can trust you. like. how do you not understand you're lying through your teeth?

fundy attitudes be like that.

tldr you can't handle being told no and you think you're jesus. you have a serious problem. i'm not joking. stop proselytizing. it's rude.

why do you think other people have an obligation to be happy about their suffering? people who have the flu aren't sunshiney manic about it, they get to lie in bed and moan.

why are you so threatened by anyone who doesn't enjoy suffering? why do you think people need to be thankful for their suffering and never speak of or ask for help?

you do, like, understand that just because you enjoy your life with whatever disease, that doesn't mean someone else....has the same experience as you? then again you think you're jesus so maybe you do literally think you know better about other people's lives than they do.

is it because you think that anyone who's worse off than you is going to be used as a justification to take away your rights? is it because you believe that anyone who needs help is a burden on society? then because disabled people are inherently burdens, so the rent in exchange is shooting sunshine out your ass, or you lose your rights? so that people will...what...like you, and not feel like they can abuse you? because being disabled means people get to just hate you so it's up to you to mitigate that?

fucking fascinating.

it's literally called a DIS ability. lack of ability. and like, depression and anxiety are real things, real disabilities, you do know that, right? ptsd is a thing people kill themselves over. you can't "first step" your way out of that. let alone out of having crushing chronic pain and disabilities that ruin your life, or whatever else you seem to think people can just...magically pretend they don't have if they give it a cute name.

you're acting like the church shuffling its priests around. if you don't look at the problem then it doesn't exist, hmm? if you're hateful enough then everyone you hate will be intimidated into silence and you can pretend you didn't do anything wrong?

is that why you're so afraid of people who don't hide how miserable they are? gee golly gosh, it's almost like if we let people have rights instead of being hateful cunts to them and forcing people to suffer EXTRA, the world would be so much nicer.

people can't "just" magically make their suffering stop. there's no "first step" to that. it's...literally why it's called a "dis-ability". even if it's temporary like a broken leg. even if we later find a magical cure, no one is obligated to suffer in silence. you wanting them to hide it is for YOUR comfort, not because you're jesus making their lives better. you're not different from everyone who thinks disabled people are choosing to be disabled, and are just crazy drug seekers, because they're just SO FUCKING LAZY.

you can, however, "First Step" your way out of acting like a cunt. that's wholly a choice, it's not a personality disorder or mental illness. your choice to not respect other people. even disorders are capable of saying "yep that was wrong and i'm sorry".

this isn't "caring" or "patient", you straight out declared you're intolerant of anyone different from you. we call that bigotry, no matter what flowery language you try to dress it up in.

you're entitled to your own space and your own ideas. hug boxes and lack of negativity are not inherently wrong. they're incredibly useful for many reasons. you are not, however, entitled to bigotry and hate. you are not entitled to claim other people are less. you are not entitled to claim you're jesus here to save us.

fun little aside: the thing about jesus is that, in order to "save" anyone, first he had to invent sin and evil. that's called a snake oil scam. there ain't no sin if jesus didn't make it that way. almost like he chose to be a cunt for shits and giggles, hmm?

Oh hey if I'm on a Hot Take streak this morning

So I see a lot of shit for the uwuified mental health language like "neurospicy" on here, which I get

But at the same time, I know people irl who drop terms like that all the time, and they've also been the only people who I can openly and honestly talk about my real mental health struggles with when needed.

So not to stir the pot, but let me ask this question. Do you actually think that terms like neurospicy and "autism superpowers" and all that package are bad or deeply frustrating and shoving out your real mental health struggles, or are you just mildly annoyed by it and it runs rampant in your brain because you're so mired by negativity and are stuck in it so constantly that even the slightest indication that your life and condition might not be shit is so alien to you that you construct a hot take about it?

Btw, this is EXACTLY the same way I feel about relentless negative trans spaces, like subreddits that shall not be named. Do "hug boxers" and nondysphoric trans people actually erase your struggles? Or are you just so deep in your pit that the slightest indication of trans joy feels like intense cognitive dissonance to you? Because I my indication, those people have provided the best, most patient, and most caring spaces to vent my own frustrations.

Not to be a pot stirrer or anything. I'm not trying to pounce on or "blame" anyone for anything, and of course its difficult or impossible to get yourself out of that pit on a whim. But thinking and acknowledging is the first step.

[omgkatsudonplease]

I watched Mignonnes so you don't have to, if you were at all discomfited by the way Netflix's marketing decided to sexualise children in a film critiquing the sexualisation of children.

SPOILERS BELOW

The film is about how both hyperliberal and hyperconservative cultures force girls to grow up too fast. Amy is a first-gen immigrant from Senegal. Her family's culture tells girls they are marriageable once they get their first period, and in anticipation of that she is expected to know how to prepare an entire wedding feast and provide for her two younger brothers. 

Amy is disenchanted from this culture when she finds out her dad back in Senegal has married another woman. He will be bringing her to France with him and they will live in the same apartment. Amy's mom tries to put on a brave face and accept it, but it is obvious this move is humiliating for her. Amy's excitement for her dad turns into anger, compounded by her alienation and isolation at school.

The Mignonnes are a dance clique of 4 French girls who are clearly better adjusted to Western culture than Amy. Their ringleader lives in Amy's apartment complex and Amy is clearly enchanted with her because of the way she dances. She wants to be friends with the Mignonnes, but they bully and tease her. So in an attempt to win their approval, Amy learns the dance routine they are practicing for a local competition.

(The infamous "OMG NAKED BOOBIES ON A CHILD" shot is a blink and you'll miss it moment on a music video posted by a rival dance group. The incident is treated like a wardrobe malfunction, the girl quickly covers up, and the camera cuts away. Also, breasts aren't inherently sexual in France so a lot of the morality screaming is really American puritanism at play.)

The girls' antics are rebuffed by the older boys and men they interact with. One such moment is when the girls catfish an older teenager, but when one of them turns on the camera, the boy is visibly uncomfortable and tells them to fuck off. This leads to the girl who turned on the camera to be outcast from the group, which is Amy's avenue into the group. To secure her place, she offers to teach the other girls how to twerk. 

This is where the film's dances become more notably uncomfortable. I can tell why people are upset about the sexualisation of children based on only these scenes from the film, but within the context of the film they are treated as a dangerous addiction that is destroying Amy's dignity. She acts more and more "mature" in an attempt to gain the approval of the Mignonnes. In these subsequent dance scenes the camera mimics the angles from a music video, but the child subjects make the overall scene grotesque and uncomfortable.

There is a scene where Amy is pantsed in a fight. This is when she is desperately trying to look "more mature", so the revelation that she still wears "kids' granny panties" is humiliating for her. Once again, the shot is really quick, in the context of a fight, and the Mignonnes come to her rescue quickly. This moment is the tipping point where Amy's outside activity seeps back into her home. She steals her mom's wallet so she and the Mignonnes can go on a shopping spree for more ~mature~ underwear. 

Since Amy is in a lower-income first-gen immigrant family, she doesn't have her own smartphone. The girls at her school do, though, so she steals her cousin's smartphone. This is also part of her attempts to become accepted by her peers -- that phone is her first foray into hypersexualised Western online culture and part of her first major interaction with the Mignonnes. It is also part of the worst thing she does: post an inappropriate photo of herself online.

The film clearly shows her reasoning for doing so: she is deep in social media at this point and needs more and more provocative actions to score the same high. The Mignonnes were humiliated by the pantsing incident and need something to show they're "not kids" (even though they are). Amy doesn't know it's inappropriate to post that kind of photo online. She does it anyway. And she is punished by both her home culture and Western culture for doing it.

There is a scene here where her mother and auntie sprinkle her with water, presumably to purify her from her sins. Amy becomes overwhelmed with some sort of emotion and starts half-twerking in front of them. The camera circles her entire body when she does so. It really makes her look possessed, which is why her mother calls in an imam (I think?) to check her for demons. The man tells her mother there are none, and reminds her that she is free to divorce her husband if she cannot bear the stress and humiliation of this impending wedding. "God does not burden women with more than they can bear," he says, making a clear distinction between Islam as a religion, and Islam as a tool used by a patriarchal culture to force the submission of women. 

Amy is also rejected from the Mignonnes (and they welcome the other girl back in). They tell her she acted like a slut and ruined their reputation, completely uncaring that they were responsible for her actions up to this point. The line is clearly: you can twerk and lick your finger and bite your lips and do all the other stuff that the women in music videos do, but you cannot post nudes. Amy doesn't know that's the line. She tries to justify her actions and is only pushed away by the other girls. 

(I should also mention, the actual action of her taking the pictures does not show you anything. The camera keeps itself above the belt outside of dance scenes. You know what she's doing based on the glow of the phone screen and the tops of her knees. You never see the photo itself, either. That, to me, tells me more about the film's treatment of these kids more than the dance scenes.) 

So with this further isolation from both of her cultures, Amy grows increasingly desperate. On the day of her dad's arrival and wedding, she tries to push her way back into the Mignonnes for their final dance. This feels like an act of self-harm at this point, but Amy needs that high of having friends and getting approval (since she's not getting any of it at home). The dance is horrifically provocative, and many people in the audience are uncomfortable. The fact that Netflix decided to focus on this scene in their marketing campaign subverts the entire point of the film, since anyone who only watches the trailer would not know Amy was self-harming by dancing like this at this point. 

Amy receives an awakening in the middle of the dance. She realises this is also not what she wants to do -- she doesn't want to be viewed as a prospective wife OR a prospective whore. So she runs off, rejecting the Mignonnes. 

(There is a scene earlier on when Amy gets her first period and the auntie tells her that she herself had been engaged at Amy's age, and after she got her first period she had only a couple more years before she was properly married. Also the second wife is heavily implied to be only a couple years older than Amy. This is not framed in the context of Islam but rather in the context of Amy's family's culture.) 

In the end, however, Amy manages to find a middle ground between her two cultures, and rejects the expectation from both for girls to become women before they're ready to. She rejects both the hyperfeminine dress sent from Senegal for her dad's wedding as well as the risque dance outfit, and dresses like a kid to go jump rope with other kids in the neighborhood. When she finally gets to act like a kid, she is happy. 

I could honestly say more about the film's use of that dress from Senegal as a magical realism plot point, the relationship between Amy and her mother, and how the camera is a stand-in for Amy's mental processes and perceptions. But given the current puritan fervour on the Internet about how the film is "paedobait" I felt obliged to write up the film so people can be aware of how the subject is actually handled in the film itself and make their own judgement as to whether or not to watch it. I personally thought it was more evocative of the immigrant experience; I remember making many of Amy's mistakes when I was growing up (but thankfully mostly not offline, lmao). 

So: are the dance scenes disturbing? Yes. That's the point. I would be more concerned if you were NOT disturbed by the dances. Is the film sexualising the kids? I personally think this is an example of depiction =/= endorsement. Would creeps use the dance scenes for their own ends? Yes, but creeps also used to use innocent YouTube videos of kids doing gymnastics and ballet or playing at the beach, which is why all YouTube videos for kids now have comments disabled. So dogpiling a woman of colour for talking about her own experience through film, accusing her of being a paedophile, and sending her death threats is incredibly excessive. 

Also, the original accusation of this film being paedobait originated from 4ch*n, a known internet cesspool of racist paedophiles, so really. Are we really going to take 4ch*n at their word. Do your research, everyone.

[txemrn]

The Missionary's Daughter

Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"

Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"

Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot

Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees

Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks

Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion

A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.

A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.

***

Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.

Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.

Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.

“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.

***

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

It’s her. His love.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

---

Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”

“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.

“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.

For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.

Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?

Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.

But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.

Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.

On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.

Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.

But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.

But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.

As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.

“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”

“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”

“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.

“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"

"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.

"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."

Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."

After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"

Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."

Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.

Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.

"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.

Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"

"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.

"You say that now, baby girl--"

"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"

An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.

Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."

Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.

The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.

***

As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.

"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.

A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"

The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"

She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"

***

A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.

"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.

"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"

"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."

Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"

"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”

"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.

"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”

“Ha! See?” Drake barks.

“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”

"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”

Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”

“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”

“Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”

“With Jason up at his shop.”

“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.

“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”

“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”

“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.

“Does Liam have you working today?”

“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.

“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”

“Leo--” Drake warns.

“Then what's the hold up?"

Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?

She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.

But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.

And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?

It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.

"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.

"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"

“Hrmmm?”

"Her name is Whitney."

"What?"

"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."

Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"

"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"

With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”

"Drake?"

An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”

“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.

Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.

“Drake?”

“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.

“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”

“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”

“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”

“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?”

“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”

“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”

“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”

“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”

“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”

“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."

After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.

"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"

"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"

***

“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"

“Here. Let me look--”

Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”

“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"

"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"

"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."

"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"

"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."

Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.

Take my anxieties...

You have nothing to worry about…

Your will be done…

Be courageous...

Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.

Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.

News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"

"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”

"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.

"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"

"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."

Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"

"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."

"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"

"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.

"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”

“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”

“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”

“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”

Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”

“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”

“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”

“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”

“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”

Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.

“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”

*****

Tags: (this is my original tag list for this series; if you wanted to be added or removed, please let me know!) @alyssalauren @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovingchoices14 @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @sweatyrysconnoisseur @taniasethi @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @thegreentwin @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

[ms-hells-bells]

Your response to that autistic child made me think of something semi-related semi-not and I'm interesting in hearing your perspective because it's something I've been battling with for years. I apologize in advance if this gets long but basically, my question is, do you think children with severe disabilities should be required to go to designated schools for that? The reason I ask is because, growing up, I had about three kids in my class who were severely mentally disabled. (1/?)

(2/?) I won't go into details because that's not the point but it was mental disability to the extent that these children will never have the same maturity as an adult, will never be able to understand what they are learning in school, will most likely always require assisted living, etc. and I remember these kids just took up so much time but that time, it felt, was wasted on nothing because these kids just genuinely did not get anywhere. And I feel bad saying all of this because (3/4) the last thing I want to do is to make it sound like these kids are a burden just because they're disabled. I understand the importance of disabled kids living alongside abled kids. I do not want to go back to those days where disabled people never saw the light of day. But even when I was young, I was like, holy shit, these teachers are NOT equipped to handle disability to this level, their needs clearly cannot be adequately met, why are my teachers trying to make this work? (4/4) So, what do you think the best solution would be for kids with these such disabilities? Do you think designated schools are ableist, unethical, wrong, etc.? If so, how do you think schools should be reformed to accommodate these kids without putting themselves, their teachers, or even other kids at risk? Sorry for the random question and if I worded any parts of this offensively. I'm also autistic but I never struggled quite to this extent, so I'm unsure what's "socially acceptable" here.

i think what my highschool did is the best option. have specialty facilities, but as part of a "normal school". a class/classes with specialised, qualified teachers and carers and courses, but still allow interaction between disabled and non disabled kids. it allows them to get the care they need from people equipped for it, but also having them integrated with other kids as opposed to isolated from society. cordoning them off completely aids in dehumanising them and makes kids and adults view and treat disabled people poorly. growing up with a variety of (other, i should say since i technically am one) disabled kids normalised it for us, and we treated them well, included them, and understood that though they have special needs, obviously they have feelings and wants and thoughts just like us, and there was actually virtually no bullying of the kids from the special needs class at my highschool, people treated them very kindly. and it went both ways, there were virtually no violent incidents from any of those kids. because they were being cared for and taught right and wrong with ways based in kindness and interaction with many people in a safe environment.

so, it's finding that balance. when you normalise disabilities and provide the needed care, then parents aren't neglecting them or having to try to care for them themselves, and they develop appropriate socialisation in terms of how to treat others, thereby drastically decreasing the likelihood of disabled children being violent. often the violence comes from lack of socialisation due to isolation, improper care due to neglect or coddling, or very often fear and confusion because when you are a small child with impairments, and don't know what's going on or what you did wrong (eg. in that article the child was put into a 'time out room' for throwing toys), and then are punished in the same way as normal children, it can lead to extreme distress and agitation. you are alone, the adult is angry at you and you're not sure why, and you want help and comfort, but are instead in an empty room by yourself, further riling up your negative emotions.

people try to view these situations with their fully developed, adult brains. most of us don't even remember being 5, our brains are such mush at that age that it doesn't even have the ability to hold most of our memories from 5 and below. i also believe that having disabled kids integrated into society safely would prevent this misunderstanding of disabled children as intentionally malicious or trying to 'use their disability as an excuse', it is very clear that people are ignorant of the medical facts of severe mental disabilities in children.

[princesssarisa]

A further remark on Helen Keller

Yes, the fact that Helen Keller supported eugenics is terrible and disturbing. It’s a blot on her legacy and hard to reconcile with everything else about her.

But for goodness’ sake, don’t cite her childhood behavioral issues as evidence that she was “always a bad person”!

I don’t remember where I saw someone do this, but I did. “It’s because her parents spoiled her,” they wrote. “She was a bitch to her teacher.”

Her childhood tantrums and misbehavior were partly because her parents thought she was too fragile for discipline, yes, but also because couldn’t communicate, which made her angry. She was a child – and no seven-year-old, abled or disabled, is a master of impulse control – struggling to cope with a world she couldn’t perceive or respond to the way other people did.

It’s common for disabled children to have behavioral issues related to their disability. As an autistic child, I had behavioral issues. When I was the same age Helen Keller was when Anne Sullivan came into her life, I also threw ferocious tantrums and physically lashed out at people when I was frustrated and overwhelmed. I still sometimes feel guilty about it, even though I understand why it happened, and I sometimes even wonder if I’m really a good person or not if I was capable of all that. I think the main reason why I’ve always had strong feelings about Keller is because when I first learned the story of her childhood, her behavioral issues reminded me of myself.

Does that mean I support eugenics? Does that mean all similar children take inhumane political stances as adults? I don’t think so! 

Besides, how does that arguments make sense? How could merely “being a spoiled brat” cause a severely disabled woman to argue that severely disabled infants should be allowed to die? If I had to guess what caused her to take that stance, I might suspect that there was some degree of self-loathing and internalized ableism in her. That her thought process might have been “I was miserable until I was educated, and I was an ill-behaved monster and a burden on my family – children too disabled to be educated like I was will be miserable monsters and burdens all their lives.” Just the opposite of "It was because her parents spoiled her too much”!

To look at a disabled person’s disability-related behavioral issues as a child and view them as foreshadowing for anything problematic she says or does as an adult has massive unfortunate implications. Please don’t do it.

[phroyd]

I’m not going to pretend that I know how to interpret the jobs and inflation data of the past few months. My view is that this is still an economy warped by the pandemic, and that the dynamics are so strange and so unstable that it will be some time before we know its true state. But the reaction to the early numbers and anecdotes has revealed something deeper and more constant in our politics.

The American economy runs on poverty, or at least the constant threat of it. Americans like their goods cheap and their services plentiful and the two of them, together, require a sprawling labor force willing to work tough jobs at crummy wages. On the right, the barest glimmer of worker power is treated as a policy emergency, and the whip of poverty, not the lure of higher wages, is the appropriate response.Reports that low-wage employers were having trouble filling open jobs sent Republican policymakers into a tizzy and led at least 25 Republican governors — and one Democratic governor — to announce plans to cut off expanded unemployment benefits early. Chipotle said that it would increase prices by about 4 percent to cover the cost of higher wages, prompting the National Republican Congressional Committee to issue a blistering response: “Democrats’ socialist stimulus bill caused a labor shortage, and now burrito lovers everywhere are footing the bill.” The Trumpist outlet The Federalist complained, “Restaurants have had to bribe current and prospective workers with fatter paychecks to lure them off their backsides and back to work.”But it’s not just the right. The financial press, the cable news squawkers and even many on the center-left greet news of labor shortages and price increases with an alarm they rarely bring to the ongoing agonies of poverty or low-wage toil.

As it happened, just as I was watching Republican governors try to immiserate low-wage workers who weren’t yet jumping at the chance to return to poorly ventilated kitchens for $9 an hour, I was sent “A Guaranteed Income for the 21st Century,” a plan that seeks to make poverty a thing of the past. The proposal, developed by Naomi Zewde, Kyle Strickland, Kelly Capatosto, Ari Glogower and Darrick Hamilton for the New School’s Institute on Race and Political Economy, would guarantee a $12,500 annual income for every adult and a $4,500 allowance for every child. It’s what wonks call a “negative income tax” plan — unlike a universal basic income, it phases out as households rise into the middle class.

“With poverty, to address it, you just eliminate it,” Hamilton told me. “You give people enough resources so they’re not poor.” Simple, but not cheap. The team estimates that its proposal would cost $876 billion annually. To give a sense of scale, total federal spending in 2019 was about $4.4 trillion, with $1 trillion of that financing Social Security payments and another $1.1 trillion support Medicaid, Medicare, the Affordable Care Act and the Children’s Health Insurance Program.

Beyond writing that the plan “would require new sources of revenue, additional borrowing or trade-offs with other government funding priorities,” Hamilton and his co-authors don’t say how they’d pay for it, and in our conversation, Hamilton was cagey. “There are many ways in which it can be paid for and deficit spending itself is not bad unless there are certain conditions,” he said. I’m less blasé about financing a program that would increase federal spending by almost 20 percent, but at the same time, it’s clearly possible. Even if the entire thing was funded by taxes, it would only bring America’s tax burden to roughly the average of our peer nations.

I suspect the real political problem for a guaranteed income isn’t the costs, but the benefits. A policy like this would give workers the power to make real choices. They could say no to a job they didn’t want, or quit one that exploited them. They could, and would, demand better wages, or take time off to attend school or simply to rest. When we spoke, Hamilton tried to sell it to me as a truer form of capitalism. “People can’t reap the returns of their effort without some baseline level of resources,” he said. “If you lack basic necessities with regards to economic well-being, you have no agency. You’re dictated to by others or live in a miserable state.”

But those in the economy with the power to do the dictating profit from the desperation of low-wage workers. One man’s misery is another man’s quick and affordable at-home lunch delivery. “It is a fact that when we pay workers less and don’t have social insurance programs that, say, cover Uber and Lyft drivers, we are able to consume goods and services at lower prices,” Hilary Hoynes, an economist at the University of California at Berkeley, where she also co-directs the Opportunity Lab, told me.

This is the conversation about poverty that we don’t like to have: We discuss the poor as a pity or a blight, but we rarely admit that America’s high rate of poverty is a policy choice, and there are reasons we choose it over and over again. We typically frame those reasons as questions of fairness (“Why should I have to pay for someone else’s laziness?”) or tough-minded paternalism (“Work is good for people, and if they can live on the dole, they would”). But there’s more to it than that.

It is true, of course, that some might use a guaranteed income to play video games or melt into Netflix. But why are they the center of this conversation? We know full well that America is full of hardworking people who are kept poor by very low wages and harsh circumstance. We know many who want a job can’t find one, and many of the jobs people can find are cruel in ways that would appall anyone sitting comfortably behind a desk. We know the absence of child care and affordable housing and decent public transit makes work, to say nothing of advancement, impossible for many. We know people lose jobs they value because of mental illness or physical disability or other factors beyond their control. We are not so naïve as to believe near-poverty and joblessness to be a comfortable condition or an attractive choice.

Most Americans don’t think of themselves as benefiting from the poverty of others, and I don’t think objections to a guaranteed income would manifest as arguments in favor of impoverishment. Instead, we would see much of what we’re seeing now, only magnified: Fears of inflation, lectures about how the government is subsidizing indolence, paeans to the character-building qualities of low-wage labor, worries that the economy will be strangled by taxes or deficits, anger that Uber and Lyft rides have gotten more expensive, sympathy for the struggling employers who can’t fill open roles rather than for the workers who had good reason not to take those jobs. These would reflect not America’s love of poverty but opposition to the inconveniences that would accompany its elimination.

Nor would these costs be merely imagined. Inflation would be a real risk, as prices often rise when wages rise, and some small businesses would shutter if they had to pay their workers more. There are services many of us enjoy now that would become rarer or costlier if workers had more bargaining power. We’d see more investments in automation and possibly in outsourcing. The truth of our politics lies in the risks we refuse to accept, and it is rising worker power, not continued poverty, that we treat as intolerable. You can see it happening right now, driven by policies far smaller and with effects far more modest than a guaranteed income.

Hamilton, to his credit, was honest about these trade-offs. “Progressives don’t like to talk about this,” he told me. “They want this kumbaya moment. They want to say equity is great for everyone when it’s not. We need to shift our values. The capitalist class stands to lose from this policy, that’s unambiguous. They will have better resourced workers they can’t exploit through wages. Their consumer products and services would be more expensive.”

For the most part, America finds the money to pay for the things it values. In recent decades, and despite deep gridlock in Washington, we have spent trillions of dollars on wars in the Middle East and tax cuts for the wealthy. We have also spent trillions of dollars on health insurance subsidies and coronavirus relief. It is in our power to wipe out poverty. It simply isn’t among our priorities.

“Ultimately, it’s about us as a society saying these privileges and luxuries and comforts that folks in the middle class — or however we describe these economic classes — have, how much are they worth to us?” Jamila Michener, co-director of the Cornell Center for Health Equity, told me. “And are they worth certain levels of deprivation or suffering or even just inequality among people who are living often very different lives from us? That’s a question we often don’t even ask ourselves.”

But we should.

Phroyd

[embracethecringeside]

Morty Smith

Settle in y’all cause I have to talk about my son Morty Smith for a moment. I suppose I’ll start by saying I love this boy, this poor poor boy and I want the best for him oh my heart hurts for this boy. So let’s start at the very begining (I’m told this is a very good place to start) 

Morty Smith has always had a hard life. At school he is bullied, has no friends, and struggles in his class and well the staff (or what little we’ve seen of it with Principal Vagina and Mr. Goldenfold) don’t seem particularly helpful in any of these regards. Specially since, in the pilot, it is revealed Principal Vagina had been trying to contact the Smith’s but kept leaving the messages with Rick, despite the fact Rick was the one pulling him out of school in the first place (dude come on). 

Then at home he is living with a mean alcoholic mother, Beth, and an insecure pushover, Jerry, who both neglect him, (and Summer too) and they constantly fight. 

He has anxiety disorder and is autistic, but is not being helped in either of these regards. And to make it worse his parents admit they know. Right in the pilot episode Jerry remarks that Morty has, “some kind of disability or something” and when Morty says, “I do?” he responds with, “Well, duh doy son. Look Morty I love you but we both know you’re not as fast as the other kids and if you want to compete in this world, you got to work twice as hard.” (wow the voice acting really helps this line cause writing it down is like damn. that’s cold Jerry) He doesn’t offer any kind of help, just points out to Morty that it is apparently a very obvious fact. Which shows how neglectful and unwilling they are to actually do anything. 

So let’s sit with Jerry and Morty for a second. In “Something Ricked This Way Comes” Jerry tries to help Morty on a science project, which sounds great but he more or less is just doing it because he is just jealous Morty asked Rick for help and as Beth puts it, “He is insecure about his intelligence”. Then poor 14 year old Morty is burdened the entire episode with being the responsible one, repeatedly telling Jerry not only is Pluto not a planet and it would have been fine to just not put it in their model solar system, but then having to go as far as telling him that the planet is dying and he has to convince his dad just to let it go and of course Jerry does and everything goes back to normal but Morty had to play the role of the parent the whole time and ends with him reassuring Jerry at the end of the episode that he loves him. Then in “The ABC’s of Beth” Morty and Summer have to force Jerry to admit he just needs to stop coming up with excuses and break up with his girlfriend Keara, again making Morty (and Summer too) the mature ones in the situation. “The Old Man and the Seat” is similar in that Morty and Jerry have their own adventure where Morty has to keep telling Jerry that he is making a mistake, only this time he isn’t soft or kind about it, telling his dad to stop fucking up.

Then well if we switch to Beth... We don’t get much Beth and Morty bonding throughout the show but the most prominent would probably be in “The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy” where he thought he could just have a normal day with Rick and Jerry gone, but then Beth had to try and prove she can return Summer to normal on her own only making things worse. Again much like with Jerry Morty tried to be the voice of reason, saying they should call Rick for help and becomes upset when Beth continues to be stubborn. Morty has to be the one to tell Beth this wouldn’t of happened if she had just told Summer she was hot. 

And of course his sister Summer, who he seems to have the best relationship with has to be helped by Morty too, when she threatens to run away and do something with turquoise after she discovers that Beth and Jerry did not want to have children. Of course he aids her with his famous line from “Rixty Minutes”, “Nobody exists on purpose, nobody belongs anywhere, everybody’s gonna die. Come watch TV.

Morty is only 14 but he is the motherfucking family counselor. And he is the least favorite child too just to ya know make it worse. Rember in “Morty’s Mind Blowers” that one guy was about to kill either Morty or Summer and he was going to make Beth chose which one would live and he hadn’t even finished the question and she said Summer? Or the (worst?) example, “Rick Potion #9″ where... the family isn’t even sad Morty is gone. It was completely understandable that they wouldn’t miss Rick... But Morty? Oh my that hurts. Hold on I need a moment cause it still fucks me up. That is your little boy Jerry and Beth. And your brother Summer. What the fuck?? Y’all are, “happier with them gone” what the f u c k? (like okay this post is not about Rick but in “Rest and Ricklaxation” Rick called Jessica multiple times in tears because Morty left and these guys.... just AHHHHHH)

Of course we have Rick and I could go on and on about how terrible Rick is to Morty but I don’t think I need to beat a dead horse (I was going to try and make a horse surgeon joke here but I can’t think of one), so instead I’ll say with Rick he gets manipulated, lied to, yelled at, talked down to, belittled, and dragged around on horrible traumatizing adventures. And his parents let it happen. Even now with Beth’s new found agency, it all still happens.

And outside the family?? He gets punished by just the universe itself it seems whether its trying to have his own fantasy adventure and almost getting assulted in a restroom, wanting to be a superhero just to learn his heros are all bad people, just wanting a dragon and having the dragon prefer his grandpa, trying to return a snake to its planet and accidentally causing countless snake wars and snake time travel, Morty can never seem to win. He tries to be good or have fun but is constantly having his views and morals thrown back at him, like the universe is telling him that it doesn’t matter if he is good or has good intentions. 

So let’s put it all in a bag and shake it up huh? We got this family that constantly needs Morty to be the responsible one, the moral one, the mature one, the backbone of society, all that and a bag of chips. Let’s put in a dash of abuse, a splash of neglect, a chaotic and cruel universe and he gets... What? An occasional hug or an “I love you”? I’,m pretty sure I have a whole separate post about Morty’s anger issues/ his rising agency but damn its like who wouldn’t be angry? Every aspect of his life is so messed up, its hard to conceptualize it all. 

So I think instead of Rick leaving at the end of the season it would be interesting if Morty left because that boy deserves so much more than all of this. And of course he would still be on the show but it would be like Morty solo while the rest of the family figures their shit out. 

[evilzoldyck]

Break the Internet

On slow days like these where assignments were not yet assigned, Shalnark found an effortless way to make use of his time to save himself from unbearable boredom. Surprisingly, looking up valuable and sensitive information of strangers turned out to be more entertaining than he thought. Shalnark could scroll through endless facts without noticing how swiftly the minutes turned into hours. 

Who knew the mayor of Yorknew City had accumulated an obsessive amount of photos hidden in his secret folder on his work computer dedicated to indulge his foot fetish. A plethora of renowned figure he vaguely recognises seemed to have the same tastes, it was also no surprise that these people had paid for sex more than once according to their transaction history. There were a myriad of amusing information he could use to keep himself busy, it was like reading an open book to someone’s inmost secrets, history and relations. 

Though after scrolling through profile after profile, Shalnark couldn’t help but go back to yours. In contrast to many others, you lead an admirable life. An exemplar samaritan from your volunteering efforts, an upstanding citizen contributing to society and a diligent student all the way from middle school to university. This eventually landed you a job as a developmental disability nurse, working with children who were less fortunate and needed assistance. 

How cute.

Though no one could hide and cover their secrets with a good track of records, and unfortunately for you, Shalnark knew your yours. Upon foraging your profile for any information he could acquire, he’d stumble upon the history of your recorded texts shared with your current boyfriend. His eyes widened at the ludicrous amount of contents exchanged consistently back and forth in such a short amount of time. 

However, Shalnark was ecstatic to know that you were a little bit of a freak. 

Numerous pictures and videos of nudes and explicit candid activities shared trustingly with each other. He must admit, your pretty and innocent appearance assisted you to create the perfect facade that threw him off guard. Therefore he would never took you for someone who’d enjoy sexting so much. 

Shalnark clicked on a recent video which instantaneously showed a video cut of your body sprawled on the soft sheets, presumably showing off your lingerie as you slyly pushed your chest forward to show off how the delicate laces hugged your curves and slowly trailed your finger down but never letting the camera falter to follow after it. 

Shalnark seemed to be enjoying it more than he thought, in just a matter of hours he had went through every video you recorded and sent. He couldn’t lie that your actions turned him on, he was left to imagine just how soft your skin would actually be like in real life and how sweet your soft mewls would sound right next to his ear as he fucked you right. 

Though the boyfriend was a problem. Upon further examination, there was a reason to why there was so much lewd content between you and him over texts. Your current partner, Yoji, was working out of town for a huge business project that took months to settle. In the meantime, you both decided to fill the intimacy void obstructed by the physical distance through online social network means. 

As expected, Shalnark wasn’t as intrigued or impressed in comparison to yours upon studying Yoji’s profile. Just an ordinary businessman with a slight dirty records of using tricks such as feigning business formalities and paperworks to launder money. A common plebeian among the sea of crowds, he could never understand how someone like you could be with someone as dull as him.

Though this mini mission of his that he assigned himself should be fairly easy. 

A simple tune emitted from the computer caught your attention from your book you were currently reading to reveal that it was a notification for a video chat from Yoji. Smiling in anticipation you accepted wholeheartedly after making sure to fix yourself up quickly. 

The screen lit up to display the familiar smile and face of your boyfriend. You felt your heart flutter at the sight of him, the distance had taken a toll on your heart and you were eternally grateful that he had even the vestige of time to spare for the both of you every night despite knowing the stress and burden he has from the project. 

“Hey cutie, how was your shift?” He asked, softly smiling from the dark hotel room with the computer screen as the only source of light that slightly made his face visible for you. 

“Tiring as usual but worthwhile,” you replied casually, resting your chin with either of your hand. “How’s the contract coming up? Are things finally wrapping up there?” 

He let out a small sigh before responding back, “it’s getting there.” Immediately you felt guilty, you could see his bloodshot eyes and darkened bags that’s no doubt caused by the accumulated work he’s been facing. “Though can you do me a favour, baby?” 

Perking up immediately you’d gladly do anything to help relieve the slightest bit of tension from your boyfriend. “Anything,” You obediently affirmed as he chuckled a little at your enthusiasm.

“Can you get on the bed,” he instructed slowly. “And fuck yourself for me?” 

His words instantly brought your blood to rush into your cheek, it certainly wasn’t the first time you both did it over FaceTime but it still was an experience you couldn’t get used to without being a little shy. Perhaps the reason behind your apprehension was that because it was a live feed in comparison to the videos and pictures that you carefully rehearse, you were slightly nervous in putting only the best show for him. Nevertheless, you did as he said and made yourself comfortable on the bed while folding your legs to sit on top of them. 

Shalnark smiled pleasingly from the next room over from your boyfriend’s at how willing and compliant you were, though having to masquerade as him was not ideal, he figured he’d have fun and take advantage of the situation before he discarded his toy. 

“Take off your top and let me see you play with your tits,” he muttered as he instructed the order on his phone that currently controlled Yoji’s slowly decaying dead body. 

“Okay,” You tender and shy voice came through from a secondary laptop screen which allowed Shalnark to enjoy the show from the comfort of his own private hotel room and away from detecting any suspicions from you. 

True to your words, you took off your comfortable sweater from the front that revealed your full bare breasts on display for him. Biting your lip, you took both of your hands to your chests slowly, you made sure to send sultry gazes towards him, hoping he was a turned on as much as you were. 

Gently, you began to palm your chest as your tits pebbled from the touch, stimulating warmth that bloomed from the pits of your stomach. Yoji seemed to be enjoying the view as he stared intently at the screen. That gave you a boost of encouragement as you continued to play with yourself, pinching and softly tugging on your nipples which made you whimper and roll your head back.

Shalnark languidly laid back on his chair and began to rub his dick through his shorts, eyes never leaving your form as they caress your breasts prettily. You really did know how to put on a show for him. 

“Take off your shorts and panties.” He ordered once more. With little reluctance from your end, they were discarded within a moment, leaving you completely vulnerable for his viewing pleasure. “Spread your legs and play with yourself.” 

Feeling yourself get even wetter by his demanding decree, you spread your thighs to allow him to look at your glistening pussy. You loved entertaining with the idea of subjecting yourself to him, knowing he loved it when you do as he says, even though he didn’t completely have control over you.

Reaching down to collect the copious amount of slick fluid leaking from your cunt, you trailed it along your slit before rubbing soft circles around your clit making you jolt in pleasure. You felt your hardened little nub making contact with your delicate touches as it easily slipped from your lubricant. 

“That’s great, honey,” he breathed out. “But spread it a bit more.”

“Like this?” You asked meekly, one hand behind your back to support yourself from falling down as you spread your thighs more open. 

Shalnark’s dick was already out by this point from the confinement of his trousers as he stroked it painfully slow as to match your pace. His eyes couldn’t bear to leave the screen as you displayed your pretty cunt so openly to him, teasing it with your tiny fingers making him want to reach through the screen and show you how much better his would feel. With one hand still gripping onto his device, he typed in another order.

“Yeah, now put a finger in.” 

Panting slightly, you reached down and slowly entered a single digit, letting your cunt to squeeze around your finger as you moaned at the intrusion. 

“Y-Yoji! Ahh...” your head lolled back when your walls closed in on you, making you rub on a very special spot that sent your senses flying. In haste, you added another finger in as you continued to play with yourself and you noticed Yoji’s eyes never faltered from the screen, watching you slip your fingers in and out.

“Does it feel good, baby?” You nodded lightly at his words. “Can you rub your pussy faster for me? I want to see you fuck yourself harder...” 

“Mmh!...” you cried as you sped up your fingers. It felt so surreal, you could feel yourself almost touching the stars at this point. Your eyes were hazed in the image of your boyfriend as your mind were only clouded by carnal desires. You’ve never felt so good every time you did this with him, it made you all the more excited to see him in the next upcoming week for when he gets back. 

Feeling your walls clenching onto your fingers, you knew you were near your end soon. “I-I’m getting close...” you whined out, “I’m going to cum, Yoji!” 

“Stop.” 

You let out a dumb, “huh?” in response. He would seldom stop you just before you reached your peak so this was a slight surprise.

“Reach into the drawer for your dildo, I know that’s where you keep them.” Blushing profusely, you nevertheless acquiesced and promptly took the small pink toy in your hand. “Now fuck and play with it.”

You glared at him through the screen but that front shattered as you felt the head enter into your warm, plush cunt. At this point you’ve nearly turned yourself inside out. “Y-yoji! Ohh...” you moaned at the snug fit as you got it all the way inside, arching your back in pleasure as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Feels nice doesn’t it, babe?” Too high off of pleasure you hummed blissfully in return. 

Grabbing the base you continued the pace you were with your fingers, no longer having any patience to draw out your orgasm any longer. The room was filled with your wanton moans and debauched sighs as well as the promiscuous sounds of your slick with the toy no doubt coming through to the audio. 

“I’m so c-close!” You managed to whimper out. “Let me cum Yoji- please! Let me cum!”

“Say the magic words.”

“F-fuck! Ahh...” sweat beads ran down the back of your spine at this point. “I love you! I wish you were h-here... fucking me instead- god! I miss you so much, I think a-about you every day, I want you here with me always!” 

“Good.”

With his word, you felt your hot, soft walls closing hard around the pink toy and squirt out a gratuitous amount of fluids, coating your thighs and sheets with it. Your mind was blank as you felt yourself so stimulated that you worry your body could couldn’t handle this much force. Gripping the sheets tightly through your orgasm, you cried out in pleasure as you fell backwards with your toes and back curled naturally. 

Shalnark’s hands were now already coated with his thick cum, smiling exuberantly at your fun and cute little adventure. Well, now he guess was the time to pull down the curtains and reveal himself. After all, his puppet broke, he has no use for him anymore. 

Panting out to catch your breath, you laid on the side to face the screen and smiled tiredly. 

“How was I?” You asked sheepishly. Yoji’s face turned blank for a moment before dropping his head down to the keyboard harshly. 

“Yoji?!” You cried out in desperation and fear as you sat up in shock. What on earth just happened? You saw a little sword like needle pinned itself on the back of his head and before you could make sense of it the screen went black before revealing a jubilant young man with a smile seemingly etched onto youthful face.

“That was more than amazing!” He joyfully cheered. 

Quickly you grabbed a hold of your blanket to make yourself somewhat decent in front of this strange pervert. 

“Aww,” he whined at the lack of skin that you covered. “Why are you suddenly acting shy on me now?” Pouting in indignation as if you suddenly took away a toy he was playing with. 

“Who are you? What did you do to Yoji?” You’ve no doubt this man was behind it all. 

He sighed out your name nonchalantly and replied exasperatedly, “he’s already dead so I wouldn’t get too worried about it, I’ll just take over his position.” He giggled boyishly. “How about it? You seem like your in need of a new boyfriend since your last one is... you know...” he cringed and pretended to slice his head with own his hand. 

“You’re crazy if you don’t think I’m not going to report you!” Crying in defiance as you felt tears starting to fill your eyes.

“But then it’d be a shame if your private home movie went viral,” He grimly implied as the screen changed into you fucking yourself silly on the bed. Somehow this creep had managed to record every single second of your lewd activity. You gasped horrifyingly, feeling the said tears now dropping into your hot cheeks. 

“What would your family think? Your colleagues? Your bosses? Don’t you work with children?” He placed a finger on his chin pretending to think hard. “I’d imagine it to be quite hard to find a job if something like this went pub-“

“Just stop,” you sobbed out pathetically as you turned to face him through the screen. “What do you want?”

“Meet me at your favourite cafe tomorrow at noon.” Smiling innocently despite the tenebrous tension between the two of you.  When you didn’t say anything, too defeated and scared to utter out a word, he took your silence as a tacit comply as his smile seemingly began to widened.

“Great, it’s a date!”

[sayruq]

jaime, cersei and brienne in the winds of winter: prediction post

jaime and cersei

 i've discussed their relationship and its toxicity over the years but let me summarise. jaime and cersei are narcissists in a codependent relationship that is dysfunctional in every way esp sexually. jaime has boundary issues to put it lightly. once he decides it's time to have sex, he'll rip cersei's clothes off and have his way with her. nearly all of their sex scenes are like this. jaime dominates cersei in much the same way a husband would dominate his wife (in westeros). he views their relationship that way which is the source of their conflict. cersei doesn’t want a husband, she wants a knight. they’re essentially incompatible and they realised it at the end of asos.

cersei lashed out at jaime- she insults him, she throws a goblet at him, she mocks his disability, she cheated him, she sends him away despite his protests. she doesn't view their relationship as a marriage because marriage is a trap, marriage means that jaime holds more power of her. cersei doesn't want anyone to hold power of her in any situation because she doesn't trust them to treat her right.

she loves jaime, i don't know why people don’t see this. half her chapters are 'jaime jaime jaime.' she has sex with taena, who she is attracted to, and it doesn't feel good because it's not jaime (which is messed up lol). while cersei doesn't value jaime for all that he is, she constantly thinks how he could help her. he is her best friend, she goes over her plans with her. the reason she sent him away is because their dynamic was broken. they had changed too much, they wanted different things and they both wanted their twin to agree with them and do what they want. 

cersei is forced to rely on a group of subpar knights to carry out her plans because even the most powerful woman in westeros doesn't have that much power. selyse and margaery have their family protecting them, cersei's family consistently wants her out of the way, married off or locked away in casterly rock. besides jaime, she is on her own. she doesn't trust her small council, or any of her supposed friends, only jaime. 

cersei hates weakness because tywin and robert made her feel weak. she thinks love will make her vulnerable which will lead to her death. she is constantly vigilant to ensure that she is not caught off guard and every time she is caught off guard, she feels a lot of self hatred and she tries to rationalise that self hatred by blaming it on her emotions. this is why cersei has a lot of trouble being intimate and loving, even internally towards anyone- herself, her children, jaime.

what i'm trying to say is that despite their many issues and all the toxicity in their relationship, jaime and cersei aren't done with each other. you don't end a long term codependent relationship overnight. cersei still wants him to come back. he could tell her that he burnt her note and she'll still accept him though she will resent him greatly and their dynamic will remain unhealthy. jaime will go back to cersei for a lot of reasons- aegon's invasion, tommen and myrcella's death, cersei bringing the sky down on the high sparrow, because he wants to see her. what happens depends on:

jaime and brienne

jaime has brienne on a pedestal. in many ways, she has supplanted cersei as the maiden/virgin in his mind and cersei is now the soiled woman/the whore. jaime often suspects cersei of constantly making plots (because she is lol) but he never doubts brienne. 

still jaime's relationship with brienne isn't as pure as people claim it is. first he was verbally abusive. even when they were past that, jaime gives brienne the burden of fulfilling his oath to catelyn. 

"Lady Catelyn held a sword to my throat and made me swear to return her daughters.

"You gave her to him?" she cried, dismayed. "You swore an oath to Lady Catelyn . . ."

he gives brienne a good sword and sends her off without guards to a kingdom that he knows is completely unsafe. he knows brienne is naive and not experienced, he tasks her with finding sansa so he doesn't have to act against his family.

"Just listen," he snapped, angered by her assumption. "I want you to find Sansa first, and get her somewhere safe. How else are the two of us going to make good our stupid vows to your precious dead Lady Catelyn?"

sort of like the way he threatens and imprisoned edmure and then thinks, 'i have not raised arms against the tullys.' what i'm saying jaime's actions towards brienne is a lot more morally ambiguous. the relationship is also very new and fragile. while jaime admires brienne, he happens to consider her almost infallible when it comes to morals to the point where he's not at all suspicious when brienne returns wounded asking him to go to a secondary location for sansa stark.

he'll feel betrayed once he is captured by lady stoneheart. like i've said before, jaime would either get maimed or he'll forced to work against his family like edmure did. brienne, like cersei, will end falling from the pedestal jaime has put her on. he'll be furious. furious enough that their dynamic will return to the way it was when they first met and even worse. jaime, like his siblings, lashes out blindly and angrily. I don't think he'll kill brienne but i think he'll be filled with rage when he sees cersei again. this rage will lead him to kill cersei. 

cersei would be grief stricken after tommen and myrcella’s death and wouldn't suspect a thing. she would try to get comfort from jaime and she would not understand what was happening. cersei will die scared and confused.

jaime might do terrible things after killing cersei, i don't think cersei's death would be the peak of his terribleness. his siblings will do awful things in twow because they're lashing out after being terribly traumatised by other family members, why should jaime be any different?

cersei's endgame i want cersei to rule as she did in the show because she's a great character and she has spent so long trying to be powerful that i'm curious as to what would happen if she does actually become the most powerful person in westeros. in the show she becomes cold and self assured to the point of recklessness but the self-assuredness is weak and easily gives way to anger and desperation. book cersei might sit on the throne and then realise it won’t chase away the trauma and loneliness. she probably won't spend long in king's landing because aegon vi targaryen is coming.

instead i think cersei will explode. she has a long list of enemies that need to pay- the sparrows, the tyrells, her uncle, tyrion. i think she'll focus on tyrion when kevan and pycelle's bodies are found. news of aegon's landing will fill her with terror esp if the tyrells are defeated in battle due to treachery from the tarlys. then tommen and myrcella will be killed. that is the moment cersei loses it, she'll go on and killing rampage before abandoning king's landing for casterly rock. there she'll meet with jaime. grrm has said cersei genuinely loves jaime for those who doubt that. jaime is her only friend, the one person she truly trusts. she won't expect him to be the valonqar. she'll be confused even as she dies. :(

the reason i think her death will be violent is because it's grrm's mo. he writes unsympathetic characters and then he says, 'you guys want to see them punished? okay,' and he comes up with the most graphic scenes imaginable. theon was tortured extensively and so was jeyne poole. people have been wanting to see cersei get hurt for a long while  and grrm gives the audience what they want in the worst way possible. 

people have been speculating that cersei's death would be a mercy killing, that jaime would strangle her to put her out of her misery. the thing is you can't mercy kill someone who doesn't want to die. killing lady stoneheart and calling it mercy killing is one thing, killing cersei because her children died is another. cersei isn't the type to give up, she's not the type to commit suicide. she went through one of the most horrific things in the world (the walk of shame) and afterwards she was in a great deal of pain but she was not broken. her children's deaths will hurt her immensely but cersei would not beg jaime to kill her, it would be ooc. instead she would be plotting revenge. 

anyway, how can the valonqar be a surprise to cersei if she's the one asking for her death? it just doesn't make sense. in affc there's a lot of violent imagery in jaime's thoughts on cersei. by the end of affc he made the choice not to rescue cersei, this is a man who attacked ned stark because catelyn took tyrion. i believe jaime's arc took him from idealising cersei to hating her to disregarding her safety to finally killing her. his run in with stoneheart is key to the last bit. i think cersei-jaime will be in some ways like tyrion-shae.

why do i believe jaime will kill cersie violently? because that is what grrm does. he basically says, 'you want this unsympathetic character to suffer? i'll give you want you want and worse.' i don't expect a quick death :(, i don't expect suffocation either.

brienne's endgame she'll save jaime from lady stoneheart. like jaime, brienne will have to chose between following her oaths or doing the right thing. whatever stoneheart is planning will be horrific, brienne's trust in the world will be shattered completely. i think whatever happens with stoneheart will traumatise her and she'll head home feeling defeated and depressed. 

brienne is stubborn and she throws herself at her work, she wants nothing more than to fulfill her oaths to catelyn because that is what knights do but she'll be exhausted and depressed by the time she leaves the riverlands. she might even go to tarth for a while to see her father but i think she'll hear about sansa and she'll go looking for her. sansa has been praying for a true knight but i honestly think rather than brienne serving her, sansa will be the one healing brienne and helping her move past the trauma. jaime was rejected in a way by the honourable ned stark, brienne will be embraced and loved by sansa stark which will help brienne heal. brienne might be reunited with jaime before his death and it will be bittersweet i think. maybe more bitter than sweet but who knows.

jaime's endgame i used to think that jaime would die with cersei but now i know he'll continue living after he kills her. in his weirwood dream, he sees the lannisters in the bowels of casterly rock. his lannister ancestors start to leave, then tywin and then cersei. jaime remains and he feels scared because cersei was taking most of the light with her. i believe jaime will be deeply depressed after killing cersei. brienne has some light with her, enough for jaime to see but not enough to push away the darkness. jaime might end up fighting the dead but in the riverlands and not in the north. the riverlands was where jaime was inducted into the kingsguard, where he was taken hostage by robb stark, where he swore oaths to catelyn, where he lost his hand, where he began his journey to forge an identity of his own separate from the lannisters. it is where he will die.

jaime wants nothing more than to be known as anything other than kingslayer. the name has haunted him ever since he killed aerys. he wants people to call him goldenhand the just, instead they'll call him kinslayer. grrm gives his characters what they want in the worst way possible. just as tywin's death haunts tyrion, cersei's death will haunt jaime to his dying day.