#i mean if you are THIS obsessed you clearly suffer from an inferiority complex

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

"What do we need men for? Lol" is one of the stupidest, contradictory and most redundant rhetorical questions ever. I mean, you clearly need men to make yourself look and feel better in comparison and like you don't need anybody, which, in turn, actually weakens your point because it exposes all of your insecurities and inferiority complex. Also, you wouldn't have anybody to blame for all of your problems and insecurities, since you want to "ask" what you need a man for and will arrogantly dismiss any logical, basic reason, so I point out the one that I know for certain y'all can't find any loopholes in.

[novaauster]

chapter 4

Palmetto State University Sports Column: A New And Confusing Era In BJJ Begins

This is the end of BJJ as we know it, and the beginning of BJJ as we will know it. Last night marks the unauthorized match between Riko Moriyama of the Moriyama dynasty, often called the King, and his usurper, white belt Neil Hatford of the Foxhole Gym.

If you haven’t yet seen the footage, you might be wondering if my editor took the day off and a typo got through to print. But no, I do mean that renowned brown belt champion Riko Moriyama was submitted in overtime by a novice. Let me set the scene, kindly filmed by one Nicky Hemmick: Moriyama enters Gracie Palmetto in the middle of an open mat, quite rudely and without an invitation-- though I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. He is demanding a rematch with Kevin Day (yes, the Kevin Day) and Day declines. We can see first a peculiar-looking blonde blue belt, then every other student, stand up, ready to back up their instructor’s decision.

Let’s take a moment to discuss Day and Moriyama as their public images. Day’s teammates have kindly reached out to me to give their controversial perspectives on him: wrestler Aaron Minyard, former champion at his Macon High team, noted that Day is “a demanding piece of shit who’s obsessed with my brother”, however Neil Hatford was eager to add that he is “even better than you think he is”. A blue belt who will remain unnamed added, poignantly, that Kevin Day is “brave.” 

Moriyama has, of course, been far more active within the media, but his teammates have not been, and USC Trojan wrestler Jean Moreau has specifically refused to comment on his time at his side [link to article here]. I would raise the question of if any Raven would feel safe being so forthcoming about their King.

Moriyama declares “Shame does not come from loss, but from refusing to fight. You have shamed us for long enough.” For those not in the know, Moriyama is paraphrasing a viewpoint expressed by Rickson Gracie in his autobiography Breathe [Link to Amazon here].

Day responds, simply, “I did not lose.”

Now, chat, Day and Moriyama have not faced each other on the mat since Day’s purple belt promotion, during which he suffered a broken wrist that took him out of the IBJJF that year [link to press release]. Could he truly hold a grudge from an unfinished match so long in the past? We have been trying to get in touch with Coach Tetsuji Moriyama to confirm or deny. 

Enter Neil Hatford, who had been partnered with the proactive blue belt, with a bold statement of his own: “You don’t even believe that yourself. Kevin and I discuss your inferiority complex and intricate daddy issues all the time, so maybe you should go ahead and add another I to that Roman numeral on your face. I know it’s not entirely your fault that you are mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of grandeur, and I know you’re physically incapable of having a fair fight with anyone like every other normal human being can, but I don’t think any of us should have to put up with this much of your bullshit. Pity only gets you so many concessions.”

Chat, I say. Chat, is this real.

Obviously, Moriyama’s attention falls on Hatford and the mat clears. The blue belt briefly disappears from the camera’s field and reappears with black armbands barely visible underneath the sleeves of his gi.

They proceed to fight, and chat let’s be honest, Moriyama wipes the floor with Hatford much as you’d expect a brown belt to do. Hatford’s grip-breaking skills are certainly above average, but when he shoots the fireman’s carry Moriyama escapes and takes that shit personally. Hatford narrowly escapes his every submission, though, slipping the ubiquitous wristlocks with practiced swiftness, and seems perfectly comfortable sitting in knee-on-belly for a brutal half-minute.

Chat, Hatford’s BJJ is not what I would call good . His brain is clearly faster than his muscle memory, Moriyama has probably ten pounds on him even with his weight cut, and he relies heavily on plain old endurance. 

Moriyama gets bored with knee-on-belly, moves to full mount, and it looks like it’s all over-- in fact he’s rearing back to, it looks like, throw some ‘bows, which is so incredibly illegal-- when Hatford just… smirks. 

The blue belt stops reaching into his sleeve and matches Hatford’s smile and chat, this is when I knew that some caveman shit was about to be pulled.

Chat, I cannot stress this enough. Hatford cross-collar chokes Riko Moriyama from bottom mount. Wait, you say, can’t you just posture up and rip an armbar if some total dipshit tries that? And I tell you that yes you can. That is, advisably, the correct move from there. 

But when Riko Moriyama stepped onto the mat to roll with the stranger in the orange gi, he expected a white belt, not a total dipshit. He must have spent so long rolling with experts that he forgot how to counter technically-incorrect, cartoonish, caveman jiu-jitsu. 

I hate to say it, chat. Forgive me for the pun, but Riko Moriyama choked.

To his credit, he did not tap. Hatford held on until he passed out and a couple vindictive seconds after that. Bro had a score to settle. 

Coach David Wymack, referee, stepped in before his gym became the site of a regicide. His sportsmanlike efforts are applauded but ultimately void considering that Moriyama shot himself in the head that night.

Chat, I will be real, this is serious. It raises questions about the kind of pressure put on our fighters in this day and age, especially the stoic and mostly-silent Ravens. We talk a lot about head wounds in sports, but not about the one that did Moriyama in.

I’ll let someone else do the obit/memorial. The real question is, who is Neil Hatford and what will the madlad do next?

Peace and love,

Katelyn Mackenzie

chapter 1 of Trial Class the aftg bjj au fic under the cut

Tags: Alternate Universe-- Jiu-Jitsu, Trans Neil Josten, because if your bjj gym does not have transmasc rep you’re doing something wrong, Autistic Kevin Day, because if your bjj gym does not have autistic rep you’re Really doing something wrong,  Crack Treated Seriously, i did not intend to write so much bullshit about bjj but here i am

In the end notes I have my notes on each characters’ belt rankings, my reasoning for why they would be at that level, and their main skills if you find that stuff interesting. 

Neil ducks into an unmarked door of a cinderblock building, his heart pounding. He knows he was being followed. He doesn't know by who, or how many people, or under whose orders, and he doesn't want to find out.

He's greeted by a rickety staircase that announces his arrival step by step. Creak. Creak. Feeling like a kid in an antique Baltimore home. Bad music leaks up through the floor from the basement, not too loud but instantly recognizable as the kind of stuff they played on MTV a decade ago.

At the bottom of the staircase is a dude about his age in a plain blue martial arts gi, and maybe Neil should pay attention to his scowl, or his brown belt, or his height-- but instead he zeroes in on the face tattoo. A chess piece, the queen.

"No one signed up for a trial class today," the guy says flatly.

"That's fucking disrespectful," Neil says.

The guy blinks, then crosses his arms across his chest. "What is?"

Neil steps down a few more stairs to show he's not intimidated by this poser. "Getting Kevin Day's tattoo. He didn't get it to look tough."

"I am Kevin Day."

Sure, he looks a little like Kevin Day. He has the eyes, and the jawline, and the wrist brace, but he can't be Kevin Day. He can't be the man whose tournament footage Neil has tracked down over the course of years and scrupulously watched until he memorized every single move. "Oh yeah? And what's Kevin Day doing in a shithole like this?"

"Training," says Kevin Day.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Neil locks down his expression, tries his level best not to start begging for mercy, and gets close enough to shake Day's hand. It’s the fastest, most perfunctory handshake he has ever experienced, and Neil notices that they're at eye level while Neil is still standing on the final stair. "I'm here to sign up for my trial class."

“Alright, uh, gym rules.” Kevin gestures towards the framed list, up on the wall beside the famous portrait of Hélio Gracie, all stern with his red belt blending into the red flag background: Jiu-Jitsu Da Guanabara, the first federation of jiu-jitsu schools. There’s also a display of belts in order: white, blue, purple, brown, black. Only five levels. Neil has always found it beautifully simple. “Number one, shoes off when on the mat, shoes on when off the mat.”

Somebody has scratched out Rule Number One and scrawled “Dogs out” in its place, but Kevin is ignoring it so Neil figures it doesn’t mean anything. 

“Number two, proper attire. That means belts tied all the time, even in no-gi, for safety. That also means wear your gi for a gi class, Nicky!” Kevin abruptly shouts the end of that sentence towards the people already on the bright orange mats.

Orange is a weird color for mats. They tend to be gray, or in the Ravens’ case, black, but the explanation for the design choice is tacked up above the rule list: The Foxhole Gym, it reads in Canva font, and underneath adds Gracie Palmetto.

A young man on the mats dutifully wearing his blue belt, albeit overtop nothing but a tight rashguard and obscenely small fighting shorts, replies “You’ll never take me alive!”

“You’re lucky we have a trial class or I’d force you into the orange gi.”

“Oh the horror! You wouldn’t do that to me!”

Kevin turns back to Neil. “Stay away from Nicky. He’s trouble. Rule three, respect the tap. Tap when you’re done, let go when they’re done-- but you won't be tapping anyone out.” He goes behind the front desk and retrieves a clipboard and pen, as well as a folded gi. “Rule four, sign the waiver.”

It’s The Orange Gi, which Nicky had been so horrified by. Neil takes the whole stack and tells himself that it isn’t that bad, it even smells like laundry detergent, but it really is garishly neon. 

“That’s the only spare we have,” Kevin says. “Beggars, choosers. If you come back get your own and get a Gracie patch on it, rule five. Six, sign in before class and don’t be late. Seven, personal hygiene, don’t be disgusting. Eight, no jewelry, no glasses, no unbound long hair, hearing aids on a case-by-case basis. For safety. Nine, get a white stripe before standing up while rolling and a red stripe to roll at all. The rest is self explanatory.”

There are four more rules on the list. Neil reads them. “I’ll just get changed, then.”

“Changing rooms’ to the left.” They are two open doorways to the left, neither of which are labeled.

Neil hesitates.

“Just pick one, they both have stalls.” For a second Neil’s sure that Kevin Day just clocked him, but then he continues “I’m ninety percent certain that Nicky removed the signage on a dare from Allison but they will not confirm, deny, or tell me why. They say I have to learn what a ‘transgender’ is. Do you know?”

“Uh,” Neil says.

“I will not google it. I have learned that the internet is not my friend.”

“Dictionary?”

“You think it is in a dictionary? Half the words these assholes use are not defined in it.” Rule twelve, Neil remembers. No foul language. “What is rizz, I ask and find no answer. What is skibidi. They have no respect.”

“Pretty sure it’s in any dictionary printed in the last twenty years,” Neil says.

“If you say so. Regardless, if I find proof of whoever pulled this outlandish prank they will be fighting a Ten-Round Tuesday with me and I will be grinding shoulder pressure into their face the entire time and finally grant mercy in the form of a d’arce choke. Mark my words!”

“Yes Coach,” Nicky yells back. 

Wow, Keil thinks. Kevin Day is a total freakshow. Good thing I’m the normal one here. Out loud, he says “Why ten rounds with you? Why not, for example, that guy?” He points at the scariest guy in the room.

Now, if Neil has experience in anything, it’s in determining who is the scariest person in the room. It isn’t the strongest one, because all of them look like college-age athletes who are strong as hell. It isn’t the biggest guy (blue belt, two stripe, spiked hair) or the highest ranked (Kevin, and then a purple belt, one stripe, pink gi). It’s all in the eyes. It’s a blond blue belt, approximately 160 pounds, 5’0, black gi and long black rashguard covering as much skin as possible. 

Kevin looks where Neil is pointing. “Oh, Andrew? No. I am trying to punish them, not injure them for life.”

“I see.”

“Class starts five minutes. Get changed.”

Neil picks a changing room at random, glad to find it empty. In a locked stall he switches out his binder for the sports bra in his backpack, suspecting that he’ll need the extra lung capacity, and changes out his white t-shirt for the closest thing he has to a rashguard, a black polyester shirt that’s slightly too small. It reads Charlotte Día De Los Muertos 5K, and it may be stolen, but considering that he had both run five kilometers through a graveyard and almost become one of the muertos via stab wound, he feels he has the right to it.

He pulls the gi pants on over his running shorts, tying the drawstring tight high on his waist because otherwise he’d be stepping on excess fabric. The sleeves flop halfway over his palms.

Nothing for it. Today is a good day. Not only has he escaped the people following him without having to call up his uncle, at least for now, he’s also getting a class with Kevin Fucking Day. And maybe Kevin Fucking Day is a little bit… off, but he’s still, Neil’s sure, a genius. 

Neil leaves the changing room with his blank, borrowed white belt tied as best he can. He sets his backpack in the cubbies, which creak under the weight, in view of the mats so he’ll always have an eye on it. In the cubby beside him are knives. 

“Your belt is tied wrong. Ask somebody to help you with it,” Kevin says, taking Neil’s signed waiver. “Neil Hatford,” he reads of the paper. “Oh. I never asked your name.”

“I never offered it.” Neil’s used to skirting around that part of conversations. He’d run out of names if he gave them up so easily. 

“Well. Introductions. Everybody who comes to lunchtime class is already on the mats. Closest to us are Allison and Dan. Allison is in mount.”

Allison, purple belt, pink gi. Neil vaguely recognizes her, he thinks, from skimming past internet discourse. People like to accuse her and her Youtube channel of teaching bullshit self-defense, but she never claimed to be a self-defense teacher. She teaches pure jiu-jitsu and never claimed to be a full coach, it’s not her responsibility to tell people how to dodge a punch. “Allison Reynolds?”

“Then you should know of Dan Wilds,” Kevin says as Allison pins Dan’s arm down on the mat, steps her knee over it, and maneuvers the other arm into mounted triangle position, leaning down over it to close the choke until Dan taps. They switch positions and run through it again.

“I don’t,” Neil admits.

“You will.” Kevin does not elaborate. “You are aware of Nicky. Bantamweight beside him is Aaron. The two mountains are Matt and Seth. Seth is the white belt but do not make the mistake of thinking he is on your level.”

Neil raises his eyebrows. Never meet your heroes, he thinks, and decides on saying “And what level is that?”

Kevin looks him up and down. “Novice, featherweight-- or bantamweight if you cut a few pounds-- and, unless you made a very particular visit to the pharmacist, women’s.” He says it like reciting a grocery list.

“Fuck you.”

“You asked. Which part of that was offensive?”

“Fuck. You.” Neil prepares to repeat himself in Portuguese and Japanese, but doesn’t get the chance. 

“And then those two vale tudo maniacs are Renee and Andrew.” At first Neil translates the term directly-- free for all-- and then colloquially-- no-holds-barred-- but he did read Rickson Gracie’s autobiography. Vale Tudo is a precursor to MMA, with no points, no timer, and yes, no holds barred, but it went well out of fashion by the 90’s. Kevin’s just using it as an expression. “Renee’s in-- well, she had an uchi-mata-- and there he goes--”

Renee’s back hits the mat with a gruesome smack, but she inverts into k-guard to bring Andrew down with her. Andrew disentangles himself from her legs in a scramble and then hauls her into side control, but doesn’t stay there, instead reaching deep into her lapel for a choke.

Renee uses the shift in balance to slip the choke though, getting her knee wedged in between them and wrestling up, holding a whizzer hook over Andrew’s arm like it’s the lever to the nuclear codes and letting it up would cause World War Three. He can’t take her back. He tries to tap her knee and force her over sideways but her base is too wide, he can’t reach. And normally one would underhook her far-side thigh and roll underneath, but he can’t even reach that far. 

So he shoves his hand under her near-side thigh instead and rolls. “I didn’t know you could do that,” Neil comments. 

The tournaments Neil has watched have fighters with, more or less, the same build, just at different weights. Jiu-jitsu is all about using leverage to cancel out what might be greater strength, but he’s never never seen anything focusing on accommodations for fighters that are short and fat like Andrew. 

Kevin’s watching the fight with his hands on his hips like an old man loitering at a construction site. “He likes to improvise,” the brown belt says. That confirms what Neil thought: Andrew made up that modification on the fly. “They’ll do this all day if I don’t stop them.”

“I could watch this all day,” Neil agrees.

“What?”

“What?”

Kevin calls Andrew’s name. The roll ends, abnormally quick for two people that were previously clinging to each other’s necks and clothing for dear life, and the two slap hands amicably. All of the lethal striking-snake energy seems to drain out of Andrew’s body. He walks glacially slow to the edge of the mat, shaking out each leg once before stepping into a pair of black flipflops. When he gets to Kevin’s side, he pulls a strand of Renee’s rainbow hair out of his mouth and flicks it onto the floor. 

“Are those knives,” Neil says to neither of them in particular and starts examining the knives in the adjacent cubby. They’re all fairly small, flat-handled, easily concealable but not cheaply made or rarely used. They look sharp. 

“They sure are,” says Andrew. Up close Neil notices that his rashguard extends up his neck and down his hands, held in place by holes at the thumbs almost like a medical brace. 

“Andrew,” says Kevin, very obviously wanting to change the topic. “Are you going to take him?”

“I can take him,” Andrew confirms cheerily. 

“For drills,” Kevin says. 

“I can take him for drills too, Coach.”

“I’m not your coach.”

“Who is?” Neil asks. “Whose gym is this?”

“He’s out for lunch right now, but David Wymack,” Kevin says, the way most people say Abraham Lincoln or Tetsuji Moriyama. Despite this obvious reverence from the Queen, Neil has never heard of him. 

“Stats?” he asks. “Lineage?”

“Who’s rude now,” Andrew says. “But if you were nice would you be any use?”

“It’s fine,” Kevin says. “Eight wins MMA, two TKO, five submission, one decision. One draw. One loss, by decision: DQ on injury by foul. You want height and weight class too?”

“What do proportions matter when I’m asking about qualifications?”

“Right answer,” says Andrew.

“Lineage Royce Gracie,” Kevin continues like he hadn’t heard Andrew. 

Well, Neil can’t argue with that. “Is that how you pronounce it? Hoyce?”

“Royce,” Kevin repeats. “Yes. You do a lot of reading.” And not much else, is the implication. A not entirely true implication, it’s just that Neil tends to fight for his life the way his mother taught him: with a gun. Uncle Stuart made sure he could make do with hand-to-hand, but that didn’t exactly mean paying for his gym subscription.

Neil lets it slide.

Kevin checks his watch, then starts removing it because of the No Jewelry rule. “Class.”

“What kind of class,” Andrew says.

Kevin thinks about it. “Cardio Class.”

The people on the mats apparently hear, because some grumbling rises up about how it isn’t even Saturday.

It can’t be that bad, Neil thinks as he toes off his sneakers and socks and steps onto the mats. At least it’s not Día De Los Muertos.

“Group punishment is against the Geneva Suggestion,” Andrew says.

“Geneva… suggestion?” Neil isn’t sure he heard that right.

Kevin ignores Neil. “You have to stop accusing me of war crimes on the internet and then telling me I have to work on my public image. It’s unprofessional.”

“Now, who said I was professional?”

“You work here. You teach the kids’ class.”

“I don’t accuse them of being war criminals.”

“I should fire you.”

Andrew shrugs. They walk over to the mats. “Your belt is tied wrong,” he says. 

“My belt is fine.”

“Nicky.” Nicky, blue belt, Trouble, looks up from his side splits. “His belt is tied wrong.”

“Is it my birthday,” Nicky says, smoothly pulling himself upright and prancing over. Up close, Neil sees that rashguard is emblazoned with the words Mexican Ground Karate over a sunset logo. He tugs Neil’s belt loose and attempts to tie it standing face-to-face with him, but it falls apart. “Shit, it’s backwards. I forget how…” He moves behind Neil and, looking over his shoulder, ties a sturdier knot with muscle memory. “That’s it.”

Neil nods but doesn’t thank him as he returns to his corner. 

The awful MTV music pauses, and Kevin sits in the center of the mat so everyone’s attention falls on him. “Circle up,” he says redundantly. “Announcements. The next person to leave their weed in the cubbies where the kids’ class can see it is signed up to Ten-Round Tuesday with me personally. Toro Cup is coming up. Get your tickets to see Renee and Dan fight. Gym’s closed next Monday for Coach’s birthday, show up to Abby’s house if you want to see him. And this is Neil, here for his free trial.”

“Hi, Neil,” the class drones.

“Hi.”

“Final announcement: it is Cardio Day. Everyone on your backs, leg circles.”

A couple people slap the mat as they fall backwards to circle their feet in the air. They then move their legs up and down, side to side, and bicycle style, and Neil is careful not to accidentally kick Andrew beside him. Once Neil’s abs start really burning, Kevin calls for everyone to bridge, first with both legs and then with one leg in the air. They then sit up and shift their knees pointing to one side and then the other, windshield wiper style, and stretch their backs by twisting behind them while they’re at it. 

“On your knees. Neck circles. Chin to chest. Chin to shoulder. Ear to shoulder. Hands to the mat, wrist circles. Fire hydrants-- I am once again asking why hip circles are called fire hydrants.”

Neil looks around and ends up meeting Andrew’s intense stare. ‘Nobody tell him,’ Andrew mouths. 

Neil nods.

“Reach through at your waist and twist overhead. Three reps then do the other side. Cat-cow. Alternating lunges. Feet together, elbows down, knees apart, hips to the mat. At least I understand why this is called the frog stretch.”

Neil is then subjected to the knowledge that everybody in the room, including Seth the mountain, has the hip flexibility of a professional gymnast. None of them even look strained. 

“Feet apart, hips back,” Kevin continues, which deepens the stretch and makes Neil feel distinctly like he’s about to dislocate both of his entire legs. “Hold it ten seconds. Stretch out anything else you need.”

Most people do back-stretching yoga pose or start touching their toes, but Andrew just starfishes back on the mat.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Neil says quietly to him.

“That was the pre-warmup.”

Oh, well. 

“Everybody up,” says Kevin, jogging to the edge of the mat. “Start running.”

Neil tracks the attitudes of the athletes, a range from Matt giving Dan a hand up with a ‘this might as well happen’ grin to Nicky lamenting “You can’t do this to me!” to Andrew staring at the ceiling like a character in the Office breaking the fourth wall. Neil has already done a lap around the mat, following close behind Kevin, before Andrew even gets to his feet.

Now, there is running, which Neil likes, and then there is whatever this is. Whatever this is, Neil learns very quickly, is different because he is barefoot, making him pay much more attention to where he steps even though he knows in theory that it’s safe. He’s also constantly turning to his right, running in circles, and the space is big enough for a much larger class than the ten people here but he still can’t get a good straight-ahead line going. It puts strain on his ankles. 

Neil laps Andrew for a second time. Andrew is doing a shuffling sort of run, so slow that the only thing separating it from walking is the springing motion. 

“High knees,” Kevin says. 

Fucking hell. Neil switches to high knees, forcing him to pay even more attention to where he’s stepping and where he has to turn, and just when he gets the hang of it, Kevin switches to butt kicks, which are even harder to balance with. 

“Drop and give me twenty push-ups,” Kevin orders. 

You’re joking, Neil thinks, dropping and doing push-ups as fast as he can to keep up before Kevin’s up and running again, and three laps later they’re doing jumping jacks. 

Neil has never before in his life felt like he is about to die while doing jumping jacks, and he has also never felt like eight other people want to kill him while doing jumping jacks. He adds that to the list. 

Then they’re facing inwards, sort of skipping sideways, then doing it facing outwards, and then alternating two inwards-skips and two outwards-skips which gets really complicated on the turns because he has to keep the rhythm steady while turning his entire body and also navigating the mat’s corners. He almost trips over his feet. 

“Line up on the edge of the mat,” Kevin says, finally coming to a stop. 

Neil hopes that’s a good thing, following Andrew to one of the lines beside the two punching bags, but that’s too much to wish for. They do forward rolls from standing twice down the mat, then backwards rolls twice down, then Keven demonstrates the basic and beloathed movement drill called shrimping in which he curls up on his side like a shrimp and pushes himself backwards with one foot, pivoting on his shoulder. “Twice down,” Kevin says again, “And if I see you getting up in the middle of the mat and walking back early I’ll make you shrimp backwards too.”

Neil figures that, after seeing Kevin’s example and making sure that Andrew goes ahead of him, the relatively simple movement will make sense. But once he’s actually laying on the mat, he feels like a beached fish, just sort of squirming around. He’s also motion-sick from the somersaults. He’s only made about two feet of distance when Andrew is walking back from his first round.

“Am I doing this right,” Neil says as Andrew is passing him.

“No,” Andrew says, and keeps walking.

“What am I doing wrong,” Neil calls after him.

“Get on your side.” Andrew slaps the mat as he falls down in front of the punching bags-- nobody ever seems to sit like a normal person, they all just tip backwards to get to the ground-- and in record time has reached Neil. 

“I am on my side.”

“No you’re not.”

“I think I would know if I was laying on my side or not.”

“Wrong.” Andrew sits up. “Your shoulders,” he says, and then grabs Neil’s shoulders, first pushing them flat down to the mat. “Your back. Your side.” He hauls Neil’s right shoulder up and pushes his left shoulder down until he is, admittedly, on his side. 

“Fine,” Neil grumbles. When he tries to shrimp again, he finds that he does actually cover more ground, as dumb as it looks. “I’ve never seen anyone shrimp in tournament footage,” he says.

“Yes the fuck you have?” Kevin, overhearing, walks over. “You might have an encyclopedic knowledge of what you think are jiu-jitsu moves, but there is a difference between moves and technique. The former are what you see. The latter is why they work, how one creates space so that they work. You remember Andrew and Renee’s roll? Had Renee not shrimped out to get to dogfight she would have been stuck in smash-half until she managed to catch a giggler or Andrew had advanced. Speaking of which, Andrew, good work forcing the whizzer on her end in order to sweep, it was a good reconfiguration of the sequence.”

Neil speaks five languages, but wonders if the fact that he could understand every word Kevin just said means he should count jiu-jitsu as a sixth. 

“Tournament footage,” Andrew mutters derisively. Neil suspects that the only time Andrew and Kevin really get along is when they’re bitching about someone else. “You’re worse than a junkie. You’re a fanboy.”

“And you’re taking too long,” Kevin adds. “Just line up after you reach the end of the mat.”

Neil grits his teeth and shrimps two more times, then looks behind himself to see how much ground he has left to cover. Andrew’s reached the end already and is walking back.

“That’s fine,” Kevin says. “Just stand up.”

Neil abandons the endeavor and stands up. Once he’s back in line, Kevin calls Matt up for his next movement-drill demonstration: Kevin sits on his knees, Mat lays on his back and puts his legs around Kevin’s waist, and then Kevin pulls Matt upright by his lapels and stands up, carrying him for three steps before setting him down. “Just once across this time, pair up. If you’re with an idiot like Nicky and don’t have lapels to grab onto, just get a collartie and make him hold a seatbelt.”

Allison, Dan, Renee, and Aaron suddenly become the most popular people in the room. Neil is closest in size to Aaron, but that doesn’t matter much because Andrew is already kneeling on the mat.

Neil tries to flop backwards onto the mat like he’s seen everyone do, but he mistimes the breakfall and ends up going oof. 

“Stop playing around and pull guard,” Andrew says, so Neil does, putting his legs around Andrew’s waist and pretending it’s not weird at all when he has to pull himself even further into Andrew’s lap in order to cross his ankles and lock into closed guard. Andrew pulls the lapels of Neil’s gi top open, grabs a deep grip in them, then just stands up.

It’s a test of strength for anyone in Andrew’s position, Neil’s sure, considering that they basically have to squat the weight of an entire other person, but he thinks it’s even more a test of balance. There’s no more considering whether it’s weird or not, instinct kicks in and Neil just starts clinging to Andrew’s back. 

“You’re not going to fall,” Andrew says.

“No, I know,” Neil lies. 

After taking the assigned three steps, Andrew sinks back down to his knees in a smooth motion that has to be harder than it feels. Not once does Neil sense any kind of lurching loss of balance. With a steady inhale, Andrew pulls Neil back up and stands again.

After three reps of that, they reach the edge of the mat, second place with only Kevin and Nicky beating them. “Legs down,” Andrew says, and Neil opens his guard just in time for Andrew to drop him.

“Dude,” Neil says, stumbling. 

“Well that’s one way to learn how to breakfall,” Nicky comments. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Sure.”

Then it’s Neil’s turn. 

It is unimaginably difficult. Even with Andrew’s arms over his shoulders so he doesn’t have to bother so much with the lapel grips, Neil can’t figure out which leg to start standing up with. As soon as he gets to one knee he’s falling to the side of the other one. 

“Do it slower,” Andrew says.

“I am going slowly. That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Neil snaps and steps up again, only to wobble and fall again.

“Wrong, that’s not slow.” Andrew is able to close his guard without getting as close as Neil had, since Neil’s so thin, but he pulls himself closer anyway and almost sits up, getting their centers of gravity as in-line as possible. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the secret to Cardio Day is to pace yourself, not to take what Kevin says literally.”

“We’re supposed to do what he says,” Neil argues. “He’s the coach.”

“No he isn’t, remember? Even if he was, it’s your training, not his. Try again.”

Neil, going what feels like comically slow, holds Andrew close and tries to stand up again. He gets to his feet this time and stops, muscles coiled like springs. 

“Exactly. Three steps.”

Neil takes one step forward. Then another. Then he lifts his foot off the mat and-- falls. Andrew opens his guard just in time to breakfall and catches the rest of Neil’s momentum so he doesn’t catch all the force in his wrists. 

Neil swears under his breath and tries again. It’s a little easier, and he gets to the three steps, but doesn’t kneel back down gracefully, just falls a little more predictably this time. 

Kevin comes over now that everybody else has, of course, reached the end of the mats and lined up again. “Just do it one more time.” 

Fucking fine. One foot up, pull Andrew to that side, other foot up, pull Andrew to the center, stand up, ignore the burning muscles of his thighs, take one lumbering step, than another, than a third, then “Legs down” and he drops Andrew exactly like he’d done to Neil.

“You’re supposed to kneel back down, not drop him,” Kevin says.

“I know.”

“Already everybody, off the mats, get some water, come back for drills,” Kevin says to the group at large. A couple of them brought water bottles, but the majority flock over to the water fountains. Neil is last in line because he’s the only one who has to sit down and put on his sneakers instead of just stepping into flipflops, and he gets the shorter water fountain that was almost certainly built so that the kids’ class can reach. 

It’s fine. Today is a good day.

Even the so-called drills, the class part of the class, aren’t straightforward. Kevin just tells everyone to “Drill whatever takedown entries you know, but don’t finish them. Two minutes and switch.” Everyone claps once, synchronized, before they pair up and start their takedowns. Kevin starts walking around and correcting people. 

Andrew stares at Neil. “Uh,” Neil says. “You go first.”

Andrew nods and then he’s all motion and Neil finally gets to feel the so-called vale tudo maniac he’d been with Renee. He grabs a collar tie, forcing Neil’s head down, and hooks his fingers in the outside of Neil’s sleeve, pulls him one way and then the other, forcing him to step forward, and then skids forward, hauling Neil’s leg up in his arms. “Single-leg,” he explains.

“I know what a single-leg is.”

“Then step back next time.” Andrew fights for grips again and gets them, pulls the same pull-sideways trick, but this time when he reaches for Neil’s leg, Neil forces weight back onto it and steps back. 

Andrew trips him. 

“Breakfall,” he says while Neil is still in the air, and Neil slaps the mat out of spite.

What’s worse is that the breakfall works. 

“I said takedown entries,” Kevin snipes at them, because he always comes over at the worst times.

“Not my fault he doesn’t have base,” Andrew says.

“Neil, get better base,” Kevin says. “Andrew, stop tripping him if he’s just going to fall. You’re not learning anything.”

Andrew hits single-legs for the next minute. Neil tries to step back, sprawl, to break his grips, even to pull guard one embarrassing time, but nothing works. Without warning, Andrew then hits a double-leg, but only once, and then when he stands back up he gets nothing but a sleeve grip, pulls Neil’s arm up in a slight arc, and twists somehow so that Neil’s body is stretched across his shoulders. He can tell that if Andrew ducked and pulled further on his arm Neil would go flipping headfirst onto the ground. 

“Fireman’s carry,” Andrew says. 

Of course Neil has heard of a fireman’s carry takedown, but it’s not common in the Raven strategy, and it feels so different than it looks. “Show me again.”

Andrew does the fireman’s carry two more times, Neil running commentary. “So, it’s same-side arm, up, and then step to the side-- no, away-- and then you kneel? Or do you kneel before you step? And then what type of grip you use for the leg? Which leg?”

Before Neil gets his questions answered, the timer goes off and it’s time to switch. 

Alright, Neil tells himself. You just got a masterclass in what you’re supposed to do. First, get grips.

Step One is foiled time and time again by Andrew, who somehow manages to twist and yank his arms out of every single grip Neil gets on them. He only gets close enough for a collar tie once, his palm on the back of Andrew's neck, and Andrew ducks and pushes his elbow up, breaking that grip too. Neil’s fairly certain that he could spend the next week just grip-fighting and not get anywhere against the wrestler. 

“Andrew, stop being a dick,” Kevin calls over to them. “He’s not getting anywhere.”

Now that someone else said it, Neil has to disagree. 

Andrew finally lets Neil grab his sleeve, and must be expecting Neil to pull him into a fireman’s carry because he had asked so many questions about that takedown, which means that Neil of course has to shove Andrew’s arm out of the way and shoot a double-leg. 

“Really,” Andrew says, not only not falling over but also wrapping his arm around Neil’s neck in the precursor to a guillotine. 

“Shit.” Neil stands back up. “You’re like a tree trunk. I didn’t sign up for this just to get marionnetted around, you know.”

“Never would have guessed. Hit the fireman’s.”

Neil does shoot the fireman’s carry this time, keeping his singular grip close, and gets a sense for the feeling just before finishing the takedown, where Andrew’s body is all balanced on the fulcrum of his shoulders. He could just lean forward and send Andrew to the ground. 

“Why did you sign up?” Andrew asks faux-innocently, which is when Neil realizes that he messed up. 

He fights for grips again to stall for time. “You said it yourself, I’m a fanboy,” he tries. 

“Wrong. You didn’t even believe he was Kevin Day.”

“I just like jiu-jitsu.”

“Nicky took down the signs. You didn't know this was a gym any more than Kevin knows you’re a runaway.”

“So it was Nicky.” It’s a clumsy attempt at deflection, Neil reeling from the confidence in Andrew’s deduction, because he’s wrong but he also isn’t. Neil didn’t strictly run away, not from his Uncle, not this time. But he is, in identity, a runaway and nothing else. “I was wondering. Why are you grilling me anyway,” he says, which is what he thinks a normal person would say. Everything’s an interrogation to him.

“Because you’re lying.” The ten-second warning on the timer beeps, and when Neil shoots his next double-leg Andrew simply refuses to fall.

“Okay, Jesus, fine, I came in because some creeps were following me.” This is Neil’s last resort besides just plain bolting. It’s a good lie because it’s true, allowing him to follow it with “I don’t know why.”

The timer goes off, but not much changes considering that everyone has paused in their training to eavesdrop.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Andrew says, his tone a pitch-perfect imitation of Nicky’s ‘Is it my birthday?’. “That’s against Rule Fourteen.”

“You guys have an anti-stalking clause codified into your gym rules?” Neil doesn’t remember seeing such a rule, but considering the freaks around here he isn’t surprised.

“Rule Fourteen is Be Respectful, don’t you remember. Not very respectful to chase rabbits all the way to foxholes, is it?”

Allison raises her hand. Andrew beams at her, but she’s undeterred. “I fucking hate stalkers. Permission for Seth and I to hunt them down.”

“Denied,” Kevin says. 

That is… a weird exchange. Not only is it weird that strangers want to get involved in Neil’s business, it’s weird that the self-proclaimed non-self-defense trainer would be the first to say so. But paired with Seth, whatever combat weakness she might have would be canceled out. She’d turn from obvious bait and a liability to the secret weapon in the mountain’s shadow, it would be an excellent teamup. There’s just no reason for it.

Dan raises her hand. “We’re not asking.”

“Denied.”

“Go yourself then. Pussy,” Seth says, effortlessly breaking Rules Twelve and Fourteen.

“Denied,” says Andrew.

“I’m not fucking scared of you,” Seth starts, which is an interesting position for him to take considering that he absolutely should be. His loss.

Kevin picks up the remote to the timer from where it’s been sitting on the tops of the mats taped onto the walls. He turns the volume up and makes it beep earsplittingly loud. “Drill your takedowns to finish, any submission. Two minutes each.”

Nobody moves. The timer starts ticking down. 

“How about you walk him home, Andrew,” Renee suggests sweetly. Neil revises his mental calculations to put her down as the largest threat in the room, based off ‘Rather the devil you know’ logic. “Since you seem concerned.”

“Base,” Andrew says as warning before he slams into Neil, takes him down, and hauls him into an armbar before he can start to fight. Neil taps, he lets go. 

“That’s very thoughtful,” Renee says as if Andrew had agreed with her, and then proceeds to take Aaron down the same way. 

The two minutes pass in silence that would be tense if not for the overwhelming presence of Andrew hitting his full wrestling takedowns over and over again. He goes for armbars mostly, but hits a knee bar in a scramble and a kimora when he pins Neil on his side. He does not rush to get up between each rep the way Renee does, allowing Neil some time to catch his breath, but he does not slow down either, the two minutes passing in perfect increments of stand up, fall, tap, stand up again. 

They switch and Neil learns that he has been doing collarties incorrectly and he should be keeping his elbow in and constantly putting weight on the back of Andrew’s neck. “Otherwise I just have your arm,” Andrew explains, taking Neil’s arm and ducking underneath to get his hands around Neil’s waist in the precursor to a mat return.

“Noted.”

Neil manages to land one somewhat passable double-leg to armbar combo before the timer screeches again. 

Kevin turns the timer’s volume down, looking faintly embarrassed now that he’s not interrupting anyone. “Circle up,” he says. “Nicky, can I borrow you for single-leg x?”

Nicky walks to the center of the mat and Kevin falls back and slaps the mat, maneuvering himself so that Nicky is standing over him with his feet standing beside Kevin’s waist. Kevin grabs Nicky’s ankles and launches the lower half of his body up, his knee clamping down on the inside of Nicky’s thigh and his other heel wrapping around to the outside. “Five reps, alternating sides, and sweep on the fifth,” he says, then demonstrates the sequence again, four more times, and on the fifth time bridges his hips at a 45-degree angle so that Nicky falls. “One minute and switch.”

Neil’s seen that move before. It should be fine. The timer beeps and everyone does their synchronized clap.

Once he’s actually laying on the mat with Andrew standing over him, he gets second thoughts. He’s meant to bring his knee up to hold onto the inside of Andrew’s thigh, which is obvious, that’s just what single-leg x is, but-- “This feels dangerous,” he comments.

“If you knee me in the balls I will return the favor.”

Neil tilts his head. “Bit difficult.” 

“I’d find a way.”

He does not end up kneeing Andrew in the balls, which makes the whole thing an overwhelming success, even though it takes him six tries to actually pull off the sweep at the end. Andrew’s sense of balance is just supernatural. 

The timer goes off and they switch. Neil already feels off-balance as Andrew gets into position, holding his ankles, and when Andrew’s knee catches him, he can’t stop himself from falling backwards. Here we go again, he thinks.

Andrew surges forward after him, eyes widening, and he’s not sure what the problem is until he hits the ground with Andrew’s hands cradling Neil’s head. “Oh shit,” he says, looking down to see that his head and shoulders are hanging off the edge of the mat. He would’ve cracked his skull open on the hard concrete. “Thanks.”

Andrew pulls his hands away, looking annoyed. “Don’t fall.”

Neil does fall again, and again, but in a different direction so Andrew doesn’t have to rescue him again. He’s not sure which one of them is more frustrated by it by the time Kevin tells them to circle up again.

They drill knee-cuts, which Neil does actually understand. It’s just one hand on the hip and one hand on the knee, push the knee to the mat, staple it down with his leg, underhook, and go to side control. There are intricacies he’s not getting, he’s sure, but it’s fine. Then they do a more movement-focused drill in which he switches from armbar from guard to armbarring the other arm, swinging 180 degrees around with just the pendulum momentum from one leg. 

“Do you know how to do a wristlock from here,” Andrew asks while Neil is holding onto both of his arms and calculating how much momentum he can get without accidentally kicking Andrew in the head. 

“Of course,” Neil says. He tries to do the pendulum motion, but runs out of momentum while still facing Andrew, so he just scoots the rest of the way until he has his leg clamped over Andrew’s head in proper guard-armbar position. “Do you want me to?”

“Show me how you would.”

Neil does so, methodically replicating the steps he remembers from watching a Raven instructional video. It doesn’t feel quite right, but Andrew taps anyway, and they continue the drill without further interruption. 

Just when Neil thinks he’s going to have to slow down or even, horrifyingly, ask to take a break-- the pendulum motion requires a ton of ab strength, as did single-leg x-- the timer goes off. “That’s class for today, line up on the edge of the mat,” Kevin says. 

Andrew rapidly disentagles himself from Neil’s guard and goes to stand beside Renee and Nicky, the other low-ranking blue belts. Neil goes to the end of the line, beside Seth. 

“Good work today. Announcements just in case you forgot: Do not leave your devil’s lettuce in the cubbies, Renee and Dan are fighting Toro, Wymack’s birthday is next Monday, and Neil, Trial Class, is not allowed to roll. Let’s bow out.”

Everybody bows, then Kevin goes to the front of the line and starts shaking hands, the line doubling over on itself to follow him so Neil gets told “Good work” by Kevin Day, Allison Reynolds, Dan Wilds, Matt, Aaron, Renee, a very cheery Nicky, and a reluctant Seth, in that order. It’s so disorienting that he only notices what’s wrong when everybody has gone to the water fountains.

Andrew is gone.

Belt rankings, reasoning, main skills:

Wymack- black (coach. Main skills: Patience.)

Kevin- brown (trained since birth. Main skills: he’s just better than you.)

Allison- purple (access to a gym since freshman year high school. Main skills: leg entanglements.)

Dan- Blue, 3 stripe (dedicated training. Main skills: Creative use of weight and pressure while incorporating moves from class into strategic rolling.)

Matt- Blue, 2 stripe (built different. Main skills: strength without skimping on technique)

Aaron- Blue, 2 stripe (wrestling experience. Main skills: a lot stronger than he looks.)

Renee- Blue, 2 stripe (access to a gym since being adopted by Stephanie. Main skills: does not believe in no-win scenarios)

Andrew- Blue, 0 stripe (does not roll with anyone but Kevin, Aaron, Nicky, and Renee. Main skills: balance, standup, grip-breaking, and space management. You cannot knock him over and you especially cannot pin him down.)

Nicky- Blue, 0 stripe (does not follow the rules. Main skills: wrestling and flexibility.)

Seth- White, 4 stripe (has trouble translating moves from drills into strategy during rolling, does not follow the rules. Main skills: built like a truck.)

Neil- White, 0 stripe (no experience, pure vibes. Main skills: encyclopedic knowledge of lore.)

Also, Neil talks about the Gracie family like he really admires them, because he fucking loves jiu-jitsu, but in real life they’re not exactly role models. They can be trusted to be damn good at jiu-jitsu but not, for example, to respect women. However, at least they’re not the Moriyamas. 

Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you liked it!

[bookwormyyy-blog]

First Post :)

My Opinion On The Underrated Emotional Complexity of Roman Sionis:

Maybe it is as simple as Harley said it was when being interrogated by Roman, that he really is not that complicated. I, however, beg to differ. One of the key details of Roman’s backstory is how he was disowned by his family and thrown out of their business, otherwise known as Janus Corp, that specializes in cosmetics. One of the things I noticed is that Roman clearly has the right perception of a family. They are supposed to love, protect, and accept each other, bonded by their shared blood. During his business negotiation with the head of another notoriously wealthy family, the Golden Lions, Roman expresses his hatred for the idea of family as presented by the head(forgot his name :/), and yet proceeds to apologize for his words, as if he respects the idea of family, yet resents it since he could not experience it himself. He then continues to describe the benefits of the two becoming partners, how they could look out for each other and create their own family. In my brain, this was a major indicator that Roman understands the concept of a family, and has a desire to create his own new family in order to make up for the lack of affection and acceptance from his blood family. Despite his narcissism, cruelty, and sadistic tendencies, Roman is searching for the affection he was never given, and that may very well be the reason he developed so many destructive behaviours. Continuing with this idea, my next though comes from the scene where we are first introduced to Dinah Lance, aka Black Canary. The song she performs that night, in my opinion, is clearly directed at describing Roman. The song, titled “ This is a Man’s Man’s Man’s World”, included lyrics that perfectly encapsulate Roman as a person. Dinah sings about a man being lost “He’s lost in the wilderness, he’s lost in the bitterness”. Not to mention that during her performance of this song, the camera does a dramatic zoom and upward pan that focuses on Roman, which I interpreted as a clear indicator that it was a song about him or describing him. It makes sense. He’s lost in the chaotic wilderness of the criminal underworld after being thrown to the wolves by his family, and he’s lost in the bitterness of being rejected, disowned, and looked down upon by his own blood. Another scene I would like to reference is when Victor and Dinah inform him they’ve lost the diamond, and Roman has a sort of manic episode/ panic attack. He becomes extremely agitated and possibly even terrified at the though of losing the Bertinelli diamond, which he believes to be his rightful property. Roman only calms down after being consoled by Victor, who even takes his hands and promises he will retrieve the diamond to Roman. I will unpack the meaning of this later, but I need to reference yet another scene first. Arguably one of Roman’s most awful and horrific moments was when he humiliated Erica, a patron at his club, by forcing her to stand on a table, dance, and having a man cut and tear off her dress. This is not what I believe is important, though. What I noticed about this scene was how easily Roman came to the conclusion that Erica was laughing at him after being turned down by the head of the Golden Lions. Looking at these two scenes, I came to the conclusion that not only does Roman suffer from some form of anxiety, but also severe insecurity. His anxiety over losing the diamond, and how quickly he lashed out at Erica due to his own insecurities about himself, are most likely perpetuated yet again by his family, or feeling inferior to them, like he has something to prove to them( he is better than them).  Finally, one of my favorite scenes in the movie, is when Victor calls Roman and informs him that he has been betrayed by Dinah. I absolutely cherished his reaction, because it was so unexpected and revealed so much about the his character. Despite being betrayed, Roman does not burst into a fit of rage and screaming. Instead, he appears genuinely heartbroken, even doubting that Dinah would betray him. And, despite his notoriously violent behaviour towards those who dare to betray or reject him, he orders Victor not to kill her, as if he cannot bear to see her killed, yet cannot forgive her and is sincerely wounded by her traitorous actions. Soon after, Roman experiences a kind of psychological break, and suits up as the Black Mask to go after Cassandra Cain and his diamond. This scene is important, since I believe it further highlights the extent of Roman’s trauma over being abandoned by his family. He develops, anxiety, insecurity, and major trust issues, which further enhances the pain he feels when being betrayed yet again, by someone who was supposed to stand by him and remain loyal to him. Due to all of this, I believe that DC has finally created an intriguing and emotionally complex villain, something not often seen within the DCEU. Roman Sionis is set apart. He is not another villain with insane powers or any apparent fighting skills(except being able to handle a gun and knife quite comfortably), super intelligence, or godly origins. He is a seemingly broken and deranged man who, as a result of his insecurity and need to prove himself to his family, used his reasonable intelligence, resources, and undeniable charm to build one of Gotham’s largest and most powerful criminal empires. Roman Sionis is a realistic villain, which makes his violent behaviour and demeanor all the more terrifying, since people like him could very well exist in the real world(many arguably do already). Am i sympathetic to Roman Sionis? Not necessarily. All of the awful and gruesome acts he has committed can in no way be excused or justified, however I do understand that every person develops into who they are for various complex reasons, and that not everyone can prevail as a good, moral person after experiencing pain. Despite this, he is definitely my favorite DCEU villain and character so far, because I think he is an interesting character who can be dissected in various thought-provoking ways. Thank you to anyone who bothered to read this far into my head and explore my theories, and I hope you enjoyed my thoughts regarding Roman Sionis.  

P.S. I could also unpack the significance of his obsession with wearing and collecting various masks, but I’m kind of feeling brain dead right now, so I might come back to that later. Also, apologies about any misspellings/ typos.

[psychonarutoenthusiast-blog]

SASUSAKU ANALYSIS AND DEVELOPMENT (PART 1\?)

Sasusaku is probably one of the most discussed topics in the Naruto fanbase and I think it’s common to find posts like this one on Tumblr. My blog will mainly focus on writing stuff, but still … I’d like to give you all my opinion about this ship trying to analyze the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura from the very beginning. Lots of people tend to say that it’s abusive and underdeveloped. That’s actually one of the things that come to mind first just observing the interactions they share throughout the whole plot. But I personally think that this bond is quite more complicated than that, both in negative and in positive ways. 

This is probably going to be really long so … brace yourselves!

So … the first thing we get the chance to see when introduced to both manga and anime is this annoying little girl with pink hair who’s literally obsessed with the coolest guy around. Basic, isn’t it? Actually … Sakura’s first impression is not positive at all, mostly according to the male audience. She looks arrogant, she’s mean and cocky towards Naruto and everyone who’s not “Sasuke-kun”. But why? Is it just a personality issue? Nope, it’s actually way more complicated than that.

Sakura was indeed bullied from a very young age and she grew up being really insecure about her physical appearance and her abilities in general. Developing a bond with Ino … who was - on the opposite - really confident, intelligent and pretty … didn’t necessarily make things better, in my opinion. Hoping to overcome the inferiority complex she felt towards her and basically everyone, Sakura started to imitate her and slowly decided to leave her true self behind in hopes to become cool. It was the only thing she wanted as a kid. Being recognized as a pretty girl and talking with the popular guys may look like a pretty stupid wish, but that’s not what a naive and bullied kid would think. The only reason why Sakura chose to develop an interest towards Sasuke resided in the fact that - by getting with the coolest guy arund, the guy everyone (mostly Ino) wanted to be with and look like - would have proven to others and to herself that she was cool too, and that she deserved to be praised and desired like he was. 

“Would being mean to Naruto make me cool? Everybody treats him wrong, so that must be reasonable”, “would my long hair make me more beautiful and draw Sasuke’s attention on me? Probably!”. Such thoughts led Sakura to completely repress her true self, reducing her identity to an angry and despised ghost that used to appear quite often in the show, so that we could know what she was really thinking about: Inner Sakura. And those same thoughts justify her terrible behaviour in the first part of the anime and the manga.

When I first saw the flashback about Ino and Sakura’s friendship I was completely shocked by the way she acted towards Ino. She returned a precious gift and she basically threw away the confidence and the affection Ino had given her for a boy who acted like a total jerk. I was like “she’s a bitch, to be honest”. Ino herself looked so hurt by her words it made me hurt too. But … analyzing the scene and the panels knowing more about Sakura’s character development, I understood why she did that. Returning the ribbon meant returning the shy and insecure part of herself who needed Ino as an example and as a shield from others. Fighting for Sasuke was not meant as a real “love rivalry”. None of them really cared about his true personality. They considered him as a prize for the coolest one around. They didn’t know shit about him and this is soon proved ... in Sakura’s case.

The panels pretty much speak for themselves. How could she possibly love someone as damaged as Sasuke without knowing a thing about his past or the extreme sadness he was experiencing at such a young age? Obviously she didn’t. The only thing Sakura cared about was his handsomeness. This is one of the first canon interactions Sakura and Sasuke share (both in the anime and manga) and not a soul on the planet would think that a romance could actually blossom between them, given the assumptions.

This is what Sasuke reasonably tells her after hearing Sakura’s inappropriate words about Naruto and parents in general. And most importantly … this is what Sasuke really thinks about her during the first stages of this relationship. He barely knows her and she doesn’t possess particular abilities that could waken his interest either. She’s just an annoying little girl with a weird hair color who keeps drooling after him with no apparent reason. His expression in the panel says it all. Romances are the last things Sasuke could think about and he seriously couldn’t care less about someone who doesn’t have a clue about what suffering looks like. Sakura’s reaction to his harsh words actually surprised me a lot when I first watched the scene. I was convinced she would burst out crying, but she didn’t. She immediately started to process what Sasuke had told her about loneliness and she decided that she would try to empathise with Naruto and his situation. Being the naive fangirl she was, I really didn’t expect her to act with such maturity. This detail is actually more important than it looks like, because it tells us that the real Sakura is still there.

Shortly after that conversation, Team 7 is formed. The creation of this group is unique and the bonds each one of the members develops with the other three (Kakashi is included) are almost curative in their own way. The team brings out the best part of its components, it gives them love and it gives them a purpose. I actually don’t know how much it passes between the group’s formation and the mission in the Land of Waves, but I suppose it’s a couple of months. During these months, Sasuke … Sakura and Naruto come to learn what teamwork is about and - most importantly - they start to consider each other as friends. Spending so much time with the boy she was physically attracted to, Sakura begins to know more about him as a person. She becomes familiar to his cold behaviour and she lets her interest deepen into something a little more important than fangirling. She trusts him deeply. Sasuke - on the other hand - starts to see Sakura as a real comrade. He now finds Sakura and Naruto’s presence in his life really comforting. Thanks to Naruto’s enthusiasm and Sakura’s sweet attentions he can try to overcome the sadness that embraces him. Yet it’s still too early for things to change in Sasuke’s point of view, probably because he knows that if he opened up to these weird people he could call “friends” … he would distract himself from his true aims. 

The Land of Waves Arc is actually more important than it seems, talking about Sasusaku. Especially for Sakura! The reason is simple. During this Arc, not only we can openly see that she never overcame the inferiority complex she had, but it becomes clear as the sky (to us and to her) that what she felt towards Sasuke was not just a crush, and surely it was not all about his cool appearance. 

A lot of Sasusaku shippers insist on the fact that Sasuke saving Sakura from one of the Mist ninjas has to be considered as an important moment for the ship, but I don’t really agree on that. He would have done the same for Naruto, and he was basically just proving his abilities against an opponent he knew was way stronger than him. That’s the reason why he acted all mighty and cocky with the poor Naruto afterwards. 

THIS is the most important moment, obviously. Sasuke risks his life to protect Naruto and basically everyone thinks he’s dead. Sakura’s reaction is just priceless. I cried like I was dying myself as I read it. The speech she gives us - between tears - about the rule according to which a ninja should never express his true feelings was so beautifully written it made my heart ache. I personally find it amazing how Kishimoto succeeded in putting those deep words on the lips of such a young girl making them sound like the realest thing she could have said in that situation. This is the moment in which Sakura realizes just how much Sasuke really meant to her and how terryifing the perspective of living without him really was. She doesn’t have the maturity to interpret the deep nature of her feelings yet and to react as a consequence, so she just lets them out. She is going to let them out openly for a long time … but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Talking about Sasuke’s reaction instead … I’m forced to admit that the anime did not the best job it could have done to show us how he really felt in that moment. He really didn’t know what to say or how to act for this girl who was screaming because she wasn’t prepared to face a future without him. He probably didn’t even expect it. He didn’t think he really was that important to her. Just look at his expression in the panel. He’s almost relieved she’s there.

We then get to the Chūnin Exams Arc, which is the most important arc for both their characters’ development and their relationship’s one. It is now clear that Sasuke considers Sakura as a real friend. She’s not just a companion anymore, she’s someone he’s willing to protect. A lot of people tend to deny this, just because Sasuke doesn’ say so explicitly. Aren’t they forgetting about the fact that Sasuke rarely expresses his feelings openly? Probably.

Before they sign up for the exams, Sakura is feeling extremely insecure about her abilities, and she’s convinced she shouldn’t even take part to the test. Both Naruto and Sasuke proved to be incredible during the Land of Waves Arc. They managed to defeat Zabuza and Haku without Kakashi’s help, unleashing great powers and supporting each other just as it should happen in every team. But … what had she done? She couldn’t even prevent Sasuke from risking his life, fearing for her comrades’ state. Clearly she’s afraid to mess up during the exams and she’s worrying about the fact that she could drag both Naruto and Sasuke in her distress. As I was saying earlier, Sakura never overcame her inferiority complex. As she brings herself to the Academy, Sasuke is the only one who notices her anxiety. He describes her attitude as “weird”, whereas Naruto - who likes  her so much - doesn’t even notice. Sasuke later cheers her up - as we see in the panels - and reminds her about the qualities she’s so insecure about. He actually smiles to her, and he appreciates the fact that his words let her regain confidence in herself. If that’s not what a friend would do ...                                

[ihaveonlymydreams]

Some thoughts on Kylo Ren

@itspileofgoodthings​ told me I should write down these thoughts and naturally it turned into a whole essay. So read at your own peril!

I don't think of the dichotomy of the dark and the light side of the Force as being about moral good and evil, but about passion and intellect. The temptation of picking a "side" is that you necessarily become obsessed either with passion over intellect, or with intellect to the suppression of all passion. Kylo is clearly a very passionate person, and Luke is really more of a thinker than a doer. I don't believe Luke knew how to deal with Kylo's passionate nature, and I think Kylo came to believe he was not very powerful because he did so badly at mastering the calm and collected side of the Force. Enter Snoke, who sees Kylo's potential just as Luke does, and turns it to his advantage. He offers Kylo power like that of his grandfather, but abuses him emotionally by constantly telling him he falls short of his potential. Kylo has a HUGE inferiority complex, and I think this is what drives so many of his decisions and his rage. His words to Rey about her parents being nobodies is, I think, a clue as to what he has been told by Snoke his whole life. His father is a random smuggler. His mother clearly has chosen not to develop her Force abilities. In Rey, Kylo sees himself: the child of powerless nobodies who herself has incredible potential for power. I think that in wanting to train her Kylo seeks hope for himself. If she can learn so quickly, gain power over him so fast, can he discover how to unlock his own power?

Kylo doesn't really want to teach Rey. He wants to learn from her. She becomes the symbol of everything he wants to be: not only is she powerful and at ease in her power, she had gained a family, friends, allies, the lightsaber that should have been his. I don't think, in that first battle, that Kylo could have killed Rey any more than he could have killed himself. And to have her turn on him and leave him scarred was, for him, the horrifying realization that he had not gained anything by killing his "powerless" father, had unlocked no potential, had freed himself in no way. So when he sees her again, in the Force bond, he can admit to those facts that make him weak. He can say that he's a monster, and he can say that he never hated his father. He already knows he can't kill his mother. Kylo Ren has admitted his weakness to himself, he has faced it and accepted it, and there is a strange kind of peace in him in those scenes between him and Rey. Yes, he will never be like his grandfather, and he has broken his mask himself. The pretense is over.

But then something unexpected happens: Rey reveals her weakness to him. I like to think that Kylo saw the Force bond open and Rey sitting there in an attitude of defeat that he recognized because it was so much like his own, and that he caught her off guard with the sympathy of his voice or his expression. And so she pours out her suffering and doubt and unhappiness and Kylo realizes all over that this girl is like him. She's not just what he should be, she's suffering like him, and so he says "you are not alone," for the first time in his life, probably, caring more for someone else than for himself. And when their hands meet, he sees a future where both of them are free from that doubt and paralyzing suffering, powerful, and together. Naturally Kylo assumes she will leave everything and turn to him. Because, you see, for Kylo the dark side of the Force means the freedom to express your emotions. It means goodbye to that paralysis of self-doubt and self-hatred which he associates with the light side and its repression of feeling and passion. Now he sees Rey suffering the same way and assumes that she too is caught in that suffocating grip. But that's not all, because in that moment of sympathy and mutual compassion - "neither are you" - he recognizes the falsehood of Snoke's apparent concern for him. Both Luke and Snoke, as he sees it, have stifled his powers and broken his spirit. Only Rey has given him the freedom to be weak, and so, for the first time, he is able to be strong.

I like to imagine Kylo struggling with his emotions in the elevator scene; he's already decided to kill Snoke when the opportunity presents itself, so how hard must it have been to hold back his reaction to Rey's warmth and pleading? In fact this is the first moment that I see Kylo calling on the light side of the Force. He's ruling passion with calm intellect, controlling his thoughts and emotions, manipulating Snoke as he had never been able to before. With Snoke dead, for a glorious space of time it's just Rey and Kylo against the world. And that is what he wants. He wants it with all the force (ha) of his passion and all the cool rationality of his mind. With her he is no longer incomplete, broken, or weak, and so I really believe, at the end of that fight, that Kylo has forgotten entirely about the rest of the world, the fleet, the First Order. He's living in a world where there's just Rey and himself and balance in the Force, and she breaks the moment by turning away from him and talking about the fleet. Thrown off guard, Kylo tries to recapture the moment, but what can he say except that he wants to destroy the rest of this world that's holding them apart? When she doesn't reciprocate, he falls back on the only method of persuasion that he knows: the one that Snoke used on him. But hidden in the insult "you're nobody" is the cry "and I am too." What he wants more than anything is for Rey to say those words back to him, but she doesn't and the moment shatters.

When Kylo wakes up, his world has been destroyed yet again, and his rage against the resistance is now personal. They have taken Rey from him. She is bound, just as he was bound to Snoke and the First Order. He needs to destroy them to free her. And then Luke arrives. Luke, whom Kylo last saw in a Force vision tearing him and Rey apart. Luke who made Kylo feel like a failure (I'm not saying Luke intended this, but it was probably the result of his fear of Kylo's power and potential for the dark side). Luke who tried to kill him in his sleep and drove him to the slave master Snoke. To Kylo, Luke represents everything he hates about the light side of the Force, and he screams to destroy him. Kylo's reaction (turn all the guns on Luke) demonstrates, I think, that in his mind Luke is still the larger-than-life figure of power from his childhood. He knows that somehow this won't be enough to kill him, but he's terrified of facing him directly. Kylo is caught between rage at the light and fear of his own weakness.

Then Luke surprises him. He's there, but not to destroy Kylo with his power and kill him. Nor is he there to exert psychological control over him by “forgiving” him: Luke’s first words are “I failed you, Ben. I’m sorry.” Kylo’s rage meets the untouchable power of the light side: the calm and control of the mind. Quite literally, because Luke is only there in spirit - and just as Kylo and Rey could meet through the Force bond without Rey being able to attack him, Kylo and Luke are now able to communicate for the first time. What Kylo learns is that Luke has never been obsessed with power. He is ready to sacrifice himself in the attempt to hold Kylo back so that the resistance and the Jedi can survive. Kylo learns, too, that Luke understands his pain and the suffering of having killed his father. He learns that Luke loves him, has never given up on him, and never will: “see you around, kid.” Kylo’s desperate cry of “no!” at Luke’s disappearance is, I think, the result of a realization he never wanted to make, a truth that he never faced: that the light side of the Force is not the stifling, power-obsessed, repressive authority that he once believed it was, under the influence of Snoke and Luke’s fear of failure. By admitting to his own failure, by insisting that he will remain with Kylo no matter what, and by literally giving his life to protect the people he loves, Luke demonstrates to his young student what the power of the light side truly is; as Rose says, to save the things we love. With Rey, Kylo learned to admit his own weakness and to fight for someone he loved; these are experiences that he recognized as desirable, and now he sees them embodied in precisely the person he thought was his enemy.

This is Kylo’s horrified realization: he has made himself the enemy of Luke Skywalker, and in doing so, he has cut himself off from compassion, honesty, loyalty, and love. He has killed his father. Kneeling on the ground, with the dice that his mother has left behind for him, Kylo looks up and sees Rey and understands the gulf between them, a gulf he could never have seen or cared about if he had not first seen her as a mirror image of himself and as the person who gave him balance and strength. What Kylo wanted was wholeness and confidence in himself. He thought he needed power to achieve them, but now he knows that he needs, not power, but love, compassion, humility, and self-sacrifice. At the beginning of the movie, Kylo found a kind of peace in admitting he was a monster, but he didn’t really understand what that meant; his identity was twisted up in his need for power and his emotion, his love, was what made him weak and monstrous. Now he understands that only love can make him whole - and now, I think, he can begin to truly mourn for his father. On his knees, in the attitude of a man praying for forgiveness but unable to ask for it, Kylo sees Rey close the door and knows that as he is, he cannot have what he wants. That balance, freedom, and wholeness that he experienced with her requires that he not be the monster who destroys the past. He must not become Snoke; he must become Luke, the man who can admit to his failure.

Will he do so, or will he find the effort too hard? I personally believe, as Luke does, that “no one’s ever really gone.” (A line, by the way, that echoes Faulkner, but I won’t bring my dissertation into this.) Kylo Ren is a powerful, passionate, and determined human being with incredible resilience. He survived the failure of Luke, the psychological abuse of Snoke, the realization of his own weakness, always moving with singlehanded determination towards whatever he thought would save him. I think Ben Solo will get up from his knees with beautiful rage and fighting determination to find himself at last. I think he will have no idea how to do it. I think he’ll make it up as he goes along. Maybe he’ll go hell-for-leather in the wrong direction. But I don’t think he’ll ever give up until he finds that wholeness and balance again.

[virginiamccarty]

Daft Punk Taller Better Faster Stronger Portentous Diy Ideas

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Get Taller After 20

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