#i think there's a certain age of young adulthood where a lot of people just haven't really realized yet that their choices impact others

[phoenixfeathersinfall]

I was intrigued by the idea of Dr. NerdLove and his "advice column for bros" approach, so I decided to check it out and folks....This is so good. Context: In my job, I offer one-on-one coaching to adolescents and young adults who have disabilities to help them meet their goals and transition into adult life/build skills for adulthood. Most of my students right now are young college-aged men (some of whom are in school and some of whom work.) One of the big things I do with them is helping to build and maintain social networks: MAKING FRIENDS!!!! Many of my students are lonely! For some of them, the social networks very much include wanting a partner. They ask me for advice about (usually heterosexual) romantic relationships. As a queer woman who's not much older than them (which is to say, not much relationship experience) I often struggle to know how to answer their questions. I just don't know what it looks like from their point of view. So, I thought something like this might be helpful to point them to. I'm not in the demographic the column is reaching to, but I did grow up in several friend groups where I was one of the only girls, and I had friends who got onto the early stages of that Gamergate/alpha male/incel pipeline. I'm an amateur anthropologist by degree, which means I learned a lot of stuff about how cultures and societies work, how to interview people about complex social problems, and how to make things more equitable for communities that need it. I read and see the same news as the rest of you. I work as a camp counselor for middle and high schoolers in the summers. All of which leads me to reaffirm for you: Our boys are not okay. A scary high number of them are getting exposed to online communities that are misinformed at best and predatory at worst, and they lack the experience to know how to counteract that. The election results are going to be like pouring gasoline on a fire.

Enter Dr. NerdLove. Harris O'Malley tells young men things they need to know and start to internalize, and he does it in a way that is relatable to them, compassionate, and humorous. One of my favorite articles is "What Men Really Need," In it, he talks about the social isolation many men face, how they struggle to get support and connection from their male friends in emotionally fulfilling ways, and how that's devastating for everyone. He also tells them how to be a better friend and change the dynamic.

In other articles, he explains the importance of building confidence, self-care, how to overcome feeling awkward, that looks aren't everything. (again, all in terms a boy who's been lurking around on certain Reddits would understand.) He makes a point to explain what some of the risks of dating and relationships are for women (and how history informs that.)

And yes. He's saying the quiet part out loud (linked text is a news source.)

This is going to help me be better equipped to help my students with something really important to them. I think it's also going to be a protective, positive force for a lot of boys who need it.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[venusgirltarot]

What Is Blocking You From Personal Growth?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here! (Today is the last day to order a personal reading before they close!)

Photos used in this reading are not mine :)

Pile One ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Pile one, I think your lack of boundaries with those around you is what’s blocking you from personal growth. For some of you, this could be an ex and others this might be family, possibly an aunt, mother, or sister. For some, it’s all of the above. This may be you helping those around you out financially and it could also be people around you draining your energy. For a lot of you, it’s both. You’re filling other people’s cups until yours is completely empty and it’s leaving you drained and exhausted. You need to take a step back and reevaluate. Some of you may have cut off or blocked out someone in your life who tried to show you this and tell you what I’m telling you now. Only take that if it resonates. Please know that you don’t owe anyone anything and if someone is meant to be in your life, you won’t have to force it or give away any part of yourself in order to make them stay there. Pay attention to the way you feel after talking to or spending time with people. Notice how your energy changes and what makes you feel drained and what makes you feel fulfilled. Go after what makes you feel fulfilled and do it unapologetically. I heard “you deserve more” your guides really want you to release these people and have more for yourself. I heard “stop giving your all to them”.

Some of you could be lawyers or just have some sort of career that you had to get a degree for or you’re working on your degree right now and you might be the first of your family members to go to college/university. I heard “notice that accomplishment” and “be proud of that” for some reason, I’m getting the vibe that these people in your life may use that against you? I’m not sure how they do it but maybe they credit themselves for you being able to go to school? Like if this is a parent they may think them pushing you the way they did is what got you to follow this path so therefore you wouldn’t have achieved this accomplishment if it weren’t for them. I hope that makes sense. My point is, that’s not true and you are where you are because you got yourself there and you owe nothing to people who are not deserving of your time/energy. If no one has told you today, Pile One, please know that I am proud of you and all your accomplishments and know that you do not owe anyone anything. What you have is yours and only yours, don’t let those who are undeserving try and take that away from you. Also, don’t be afraid to reach out to any connections you’ve lost due to your loyalty tho those around you who may have not been very deserving of that loyalty.

Pile Two ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

What’s blocking you from personal growth is comparison. When I was shuffling, I heard “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo and “Jealousy, Jealousy” also by Olivia Rodrigo. Pile Two, you may have struggled with insecurities and comparison from a very young age. This may be an awful habit that you’ve carried with you into adulthood. It could have started with an older sibling. Some of you may have a much older sibling, possibly one that was a teenager when you were a child. Idolizing and looking up to this older sibling may have quickly become a way of unhealthy comparison for you. You may have found your identity in this comparison and soon went on to look for yourself by comparing yourself to others throughout childhood and now as an adult.

You’ve completely changed yourself in order to “fit” into a certain type or in order to become a certain person but you’re chasing an ideal and beauty standard that simply doesn’t exist. You’re just in a never ending battle with yourself that will only end in exhaustion. You also may have spent a lot of money or clothing, products, cosmetic procedures for some of you. Some of you may have even gone into debt or gone through a lot of credit cards (that specific message may not resonate, only take it if it resonates for you).

Sitting here and telling you to just stop would be useless and not very helpful, especially considering this seems to be something you’ve done your whole life. I think it is best for you moving forward to maybe look into therapy and start taking apart this idea and image that you have of yourself and really getting to the root of the problem. This is a mindset that you’ve really built into yourself and it won’t disappear over night but you can overcome this with the necessary time, dedication, and professional help.

I don’t think you realize how beautiful of a person you are, Pile Two. You are someone worth getting to know. Not only by others but by yourself, as well. Take the time to get to know you, I promise it will be worth while. Inside and out, you’re a beautiful person and there’s no need to compare yourself to those around you. You may even seek out friends that represent what and who you want to be as a person so you can sort of take bits and pieces of their personality and make them apart of yourself if that makes sense. What you don’t realize is how much those around you look up to and admire you, the real you and not the you that you have created and try to portray. They see the value in you that you’re ignoring and love you for who you truly are and you should really try to do the same, Pile Two. Pulling cards and spending a little time in your energy, I can safely and surely say that you are an outstanding human being, Pile Two, and I hope you see that in yourself some day.

Pile Three ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Fear is what is holding you back from your own personal growth, Pile Three. You seem to break your own heart before anyone else gets the chance to and hide behind walls that you’ve built for yourself. You may look for the flaws in people very early on in knowing them as almost an excuse to turn in the other direction and run and it’s really just a way to get out before you end up being the one to get hurt but in reality, you end up hurting others with good intentions by doing this.

You may currently have some sort of loge connection/relationship that you’re really fighting. You want this but because of your past and mistrust for people, you’re looking for warning signs and any reason to run away as far and as fast as possible but this person isn’t giving you anyway so you may be sort of giving them yourself by overthinking every situation, just to try to create red flags and get out. You’re denying yourself something you really want because you’re afraid of what it could be and considering all you’ve been through, that’s understandable. But what if this could work out? What if it could be greater than you ever imagined? What if it could be the best decision you’ve made in a long time? You’ll never find the answer to these questions if you run away from something that you have no reason to run from.

You’re a bit of your own worst enemy, Pile Three. I won’t give you some bs love reading and tell you something about how this person is your soulmate and you’ve found the one, partly because I don’t believe in going about readings that way and it’s just not the vibe I’m getting but also partly because I think you’d panic and immediately click off this reading if I said that 😭 but I will say that I think sticking around and seeing where this goes is a good idea. No need for rushing, labels, etc. but it’s okay to stay where awhile and see where it takes you. Let go of fear just this one time and find out that you had nothing to worry about in the first place. You don’t have to lose yourself in this, your identity won’t be stripped away from you and you don’t have to morph yourself into this person for them to love you, just give it a chance and see where it goes.

Some sort of semi-serious (I’m saying semi-serious because I don’t want to scare you. I don’t think it’s anything crazy) conversion might he in the horizon with this person. Again, nothing crazy. There may just be some romantic tension between the two of you that needs to be addressed. This seems light hearted and like this person wants a better feel/idea of where you stand. It’s okay to tell them you don’t want labels and you want to see where this goes. Just be honest with your feelings and where you stand. Your person might be under the influence when having this conversation as well. Maybe they reach out when they’re a little tipsy and have some liquid courage in them. Again, don’t be afraid. This is the natural next step in this connection but is in no way meant to rush or push things ahead.

Breathe, Pile Three. You’re okay, you’re doing to be okay. You are safe and so is this connection. Be open to the idea of this connection but don’t give more of yourself than you are ready to in this moment and be honest with this person and where you stand/how you feel. Your intuition has been telling you that everything is okay and I think you’ve been ignoring it. Follow your intuition, trust it. It will never guide you wrong.

[scaly-freaks]

inmate 13453

okay don't get excited, i just felt like writing a bit of a drabble to feel out the atmosphere of a potential start to this au (clicking the tag will give up the other stuff i've posted for it btw)

btw check out the playlist and the pinterest board made by @theageofsilver and @allicentsallure bc they're fab

cw: kidnapping

Soft seventeen.

Bambi eyes, bambi legs.

There’s a certain edge to the way people describe the age she’s at. Not quite eighteen, not quite legal, tangible as cherry juice on greedy fingers. She isn’t sixteen, sweet and tender. It’s a soft first step into adulthood, skirting the border, the in between, the unknowable horrors that lie ahead.

She fucking hates being seventeen.

It’s a shit number first of all. Odd numbers make her want to spew. They feel like nails on a chalkboard, polyester static on leg hair. She can’t even dance, so whatever ABBA are singing about doesn’t apply.

Amara sticks out her tongue and tastes the air as the breeze blows west. She swears she can get a sense of the world when she does.

Her stepfather mocks her for it. That blue-eyed, blonde maniac with the ugly Buick Electra he treats like a brand-name Italian from the southern coasts of Europe. He used to treat her mother the same. Until he began to tell Amara you look just like her when she was young. He leaves his porn tabs open on his computer, as if he wants her to know. ‘Teen’, ‘Latina’, ‘Stepfather’, ‘Rough’, ‘Face-fucking’, ‘Breeding.’

She doesn’t have a drop of Hispanic blood in her.

She really wants to tell her mother, but there is a chance her mother will look right through her instead. She’s been doing that a lot more nowadays. They can’t afford her meds anymore. She just sits on the porch and watches and waits. For what, is anyone's guess.

>> can you pick me up?

>> its dark

>> pls

>> sorry ik its inconvienant

'Step-Daddy' always replies quickly when it’s her. He has a heart next to her name on his phone. She never agreed to that.

>> it’s spelled inconvenient

“Suck my dick,” Amara tells the screen and switches her phone off before he can message again.

She can walk.

The route back runs dangerously close to the edge of the forest. All kinds rot away in there, but she doesn’t like to think of them by name. They’ll become real if she does. She wishes her mother had found a man who lived in the wetlands, and not here at the cursed border between life and the realm beyond. Marshes are easier to understand. Forests are cursed.

Still, life is horribly simple here. Her high school is placid and filled with the dull-eyed children of dull-eyed adults. The gas station where she works didn’t bother to interview her. She walked in and the guy behind the counter stared at her breasts until he remembered she had a face. Her breasts aced the interview for her.

Can I work here? Just until I graduate.

Sure, grab a nametag.

Four months later, and she doesn’t mind it anymore. Her brain shuts off. Her customers are a ragtag mixture of suspicious, ferret-eyed locals and the occasionally buoyant hiker from out of state. If she doesn’t look like she belongs, she’s pretty, and that usually gives people like her a pass. At least until the sleazy comments become ethnically charged. But even then, Amara has a way of making her eyes go ‘dopey’ and just smiling like she’s too slow to understand. Displaying discomfort is what eggs them on (kind of a nasty realisation she opened her eyes to one day).

An engine growls some way down the road.

Old Chevy pickup, faded gold.

She recognises it from the parking lot at the station near the end of her shift.

A guy stepped out, young, early twenties, with a shock of hair that looked white until she realised it was just really, really blonde. She remembers thinking it was odd. The range of blondes in town runs from deep and dirty to the artificial bleach rattled out of holographic boxes of dye. No one has hair like his. She’d have noticed.

His eyebrows were a little darker, and his lashes were darker still. He had a funny way of walking, and he looked at her like she had the head of a fish and the body of a human being. Amara did her best dopey eyes. She asked him if he’d had a good day, pointed out the offers they had on pork rinds. He didn’t say a word. His skin had smears of black grease, glistening with sweat and bronzed by the sun.

Deep blue eyes.

Horribly deep.

Not the kind you’d want to swim in. She likes a softer blue, blue like chlorine, reminiscent of the safety of swimming pools. His were anything but.

She picks up her speed, and for some reason, puts her phone to her ear as if mid-conversation. Nothing about him said he was dangerous at the time. At least not from the way he’d barely said a word or looked down at her body. He was just there, and then he was gone.

And now here he is again.

The Chevy hits the horn. He is creeping closer. Amara turns and waves at him to go on. She doesn’t want a ride. Why isn’t he rolling down the window to offer one though?

It slows to a crawl. Her throat closes up. She has a feeling speeding up will give him what he wants. He’s obviously trying to be a prick. But if she goes back to talk to him, that would be exponentially worse. She switches her phone back on and sees her stepfather’s message telling her to get back home herself after she didn’t reply to tell him her location.

She quickly shoots him a message, and prays he’ll respond.

He doesn’t.

Fuck it.

She walks faster. The Chevy matches the increase. Sweat blooms on the back of her neck.

Every woman has that oh fuck moment. That I’m going to be on the evening news moment. The please god if he catches me let him kill me before he gets to raping me moment.

None of that goes through her head. She keeps thinking of her mother’s cooking. Her mother hasn’t cooked in a year and a half, not since her mind began to slip. But Amara can taste the spices on her tongue, the way the rice was perfectly simmered, the cinnamon in the back of her throat, the smell that clung to the walls, the heat of it.

I wanna come home, Momma.

Her mother’s face gathers into shape in her head, built with sand particles and saltwater. When the Chevy roars, she starts running. Her mother vanishes.

The lights of the truck blink across the tarmac. It’s a signal. But it isn’t for her.

She looks over her shoulder, and she can’t see him.

Run me over. Leave me like carrion on the road. Let the maggots eat me. Don’t cut me up first.

He slows when she starts to tire out. Picks up when she tries again. No other car has graced this road since she first turned onto it. A sign points her to the right, ushering her deeper into the backwoods. The town is to the left.

He figures out where she’s going when she suddenly makes a dash for the bend in the road.

There’s no time to dodge the pickup when it goes for her this time. The wheels skid as he yanks it at an angle and blocks her way. The door flies open and misses her by an inch. His arm grabs for her. She dodges, animal fear and rust on her tongue. He still doesn’t say a word.

A heavy fist connects with the small of her back and she drops like a stone.

The pain is electric. Air turns her lungs into taut balloons, but she can’t make a sound. She twists around and the bruise forming over her spine grates. Adrenaline quickly numbs it as she lashes out with her arms and legs. Kicking, punching, scratching, biting. Her teeth hit home. A mouthful of tattooed flesh, car oil and sweat. Still no sound from him.

She never sees the fist coming, just like last time.

A blow to the head and lights out, nancy.

[moki-dokie]

since my post about sexuality in bes took off, i've been thinking about making one about gender because people have been even more Chronically Western about that than anything. but the topic of gender has also been talked to death about this show.

still. i've yet to see a single person touch on the actual historical aspect of gender in this period of japan. (weeaboos where ARE yall??? i cannot be the only one left here jfc)

so, more below the cut.

okay. so. before westernization and christianity came in and obliterated and sanitized the culture, there were 3 recognized genders that i know of. there was possibly a fourth but my research only got me so far on that and i gave it up a long time ago. i'm gonna be talking about the 3 i do know about.

male and female were the obvious ones. aligns exactly how you think. cock and balls = male/man, vag and tits = female/woman. yes, there were many crossdressers of both genders. yes, there were people who by today's language and understanding would be considered trans. they, however, did not have these words nor have a need for them. you were either man or woman. or...

then there was a third, which was USUALLY but not always applied to adolescent males called wakashu. the closest thing you might refer it to is androgynous. earlier in edo period it was pretty much a catch-all for any adolescent male, but much later it became far more specific to the exceptional beauty of the young male. a wakashu was a sex icon, something to be desired and lusted after, so beautiful and alluring that even the most stoic and hardened samurai warrior could break and beg for their attention. and yes, we're talking about minors. wakashu were typically in the 6-17 age range. many delayed their coming-of-age ceremony (which would then make a wakashu a man) well into their 20s. and there are records of some who continued to identify as wakashu even into adulthood. a person could decide when it was time to move from wakashu to man, it wasn't so set in stone.

this time in japan did have a lot of strictness but there was also a whole hell of a lot of fluidity that was just so extremely normal for them. choosing to remain wakashu wasn't a big deal. want to go on to be a man? cool, congrats on all your man-related responsibilities now hurry up and find a wife. want to remain wakashu? cool, congrats on all the awesome sex you're gonna be having and the many things you'll be learning. either way was a good path. you were likely to have a bit more opportunities gaining power and land going forward as a man, but as wakashu you'd be expected to be an apprentice and learn more things from your teacher (while also sexually servicing him, extra bonus - most of the time.), so both had benefits. a samurai class wakashu, for example, would very likely go on to be a man since by nature of being samurai they have tons more opportunity. but a peasant wakashu would probably be more likely to remain wakashu and learn as much as possible and earn as much money as possible (since they were often prostitutes or performers as well).

so desirable were wakashu that sometimes female prostitutes tried to disguise themselves as one to attract more clients. they were often indistinguishable from women with their colorful and intricate kimono - sometimes the hairstyle was the only giveaway. and though the japanese didn't give a shit about the gender they were fucking, as i've covered before, true wakashu enjoyed a bit more freedoms with sex than did women pretending to be wakashu. like i mentioned in my previous post how they did have specific terms for who was giving and who was receiving in sex, certain aspects played into this. wakashu were expected to receive when with men, and expected to give with women. this would of course depend a little upon caste heirarchy too but that was the general gist of it. women on the other hand were expected to always receive. (and although straps were very much a thing, you'll find the double ended dildo far more popular amongst w/w relationships - at least in depictions. in reality it was probably an equal mix.)

the concept of wakashu has not entirely left japanese culture and has actually since been divvied up into the two aspects it represented: youth (shonen) and beauty (bishonen). hence why shonen manga and anime is so popular, why there are always always always bishonen prominent in manga and anime, why yaoi often has the strict dichotomy of uke and seme. and why shotac-n remains so wildly popular while the loli opposite has gradually declined with the introduction of censorship laws. the entire concept surrounding adolescent males is still very rooted in the role that the wakashu gender played until quite recent in history. (it formally ended in the meiji era, which was not that long ago.)

now with all of that said, where does mizu fall? she's still a woman. plain and simple. had she been born in late edo, she would have absolutely been considered an extraordinarily beautiful wakashu and lusted after constantly. people would be tripping over themselves to bed her. but being early edo that was not the case and she is still a woman having to disguise as a man in order to survive so she can fulfill her goal. that must be acknowledged. that is a key point that is brought up many times within the show. to ignore that fact is to erase who mizu is. she is masking as a man because she has been told since childhood being a woman would get her killed. because she has seen it far too many times how simply existing as a woman leads to a dead end. because she tried it and it turned out exactly as she was told. being a woman is not an option in her quest for revenge. if she weren't mixed race, though? i'd bet my left hand she would have embraced the hell out of wakashu and used it to her advantage. screw sex as an art, mizu would have made it a weapon. mizu wielding both a sword and the sexuality of wakashu would make her the deadliest thing in all of japan. however, that wasn't the case and we musn't ignore what is ths case. in her world, she is a woman forced to disguise as a man. period.

mizu by today's standard's is a whole different story, though. there is enough ambiguity that she can fit nearly any label you want to slap on her and that's fine. we have a lot more leniency with modern western terms. we have a huge spectrum of gender and you can toss her just about anywhere on it. you are all correct and incorrect simultaneously because any modern terminology applied to her is automatically headcanon. and just as i emphasized on my last post, headcanons, fics, AUs, ect, are exactly where these modern western ideals belong. it's awesome that she resonates with so many different gender identities - few characters in media can pull that off so well! yall should absolutely celebrate that! use her to express your gender euphoria! but do so while remembering who she is in canon. her canon experience is not pure fiction. there are still people in today's world that must disguise themselves out of necessity and quite often that ends up being women of color. there are people in living history who had to do that to survive.

you can respect the source material and also have your own unique headcanons and perspectives. both can be true.

[audliminal]

Okay I get where you guys are coming from but like. A usb-c to headphone adapter costs like 7 dollars? Like yes it is absolutely annoying as hell that headphone jacks are no longer standard but I would not call 7 bucks prohibitively expensive?

maybe this is an unpopular opinion but i loooove how people turn “it’s annoying when people watch tiktoks out loud in public” into serious discourse about like, classism and shit. sometimes people are just kind of curmudgeonly about this stuff. sometimes people get annoyed by shit that happens in public. sometimes i hear a person talking too loud at a restaurant and i get kind of pissed off. i also sometimes talk too loud at a restaurant. truly “being ticked off by unpleasant noise in a public space” is not like, a position held only by the bourgeoisie designed to put down the Hardworking Proletariat and their Working Class Tiktoks. it’s just kind of a person thing

[disformer]

I really like your analysis on ES and the way the children are dealing with the adults’ problems. Quick question though, do you think that kids’ cartoons CAN deal with mature topics on a healthy way, like Batman the Animated Series did (esp since Batman is an adult helping people and not a child)?

VVVVVV

Sure! It helps a lot that BtAS is also written for an older audience of kids (early-late teens)

I think that it’s important to understand that ‘children’s cartoons’ are not a monolith. The level of social development in an 8 year old is not the same as a 14 year old; the older child is going to be able to handle more nuanced and complicated depictions of emotion in their characters (and in fact will start seeking it out as they age) while the younger child is just not going to be able to grasp it yet.

And while it might feel like ‘adult problems’, you’ll notice pretty quickly that shows like Teen Titans or BtAS depict a very stylised form of character drama, abstracted enough alongside the plot to be more digestible for younger teens. Darker themes get a kind of pop-art abstraction, where perhaps certain elements of that darkness are obscured in order to highlight what a young teenager would be able to relate with without forcing them to relate to it in an adult way (hating your dad because he sucks ≠ we need to depict explicit abuse/ I’m angry and sad bc I lost someone and lashing out ≠ we need to depict substance abuse used to cope)

And you hit the nail on the head when you said Batman is an adult! There’s a whole discussion out there on maturity levels and the age you need to be to be empathising with characters who aren’t also children, but it’s safe to say that a show like Justice League or BtAS provide a natural kind of interest check at the door, where it’s more adult tone and older characters will ward off a lot of younger (5-7 yr old) kids who aren’t explicitly seeking out a more mature tone.

My issue with ES is that it feels very confused in this regard, and blurs the lines between what’s tonally appropriate in a way that’s probably quite upsetting for young 6-10 year old children (which it’s trying to appeal to) but doesn’t commit to the other end of the spectrum and artfully depict an abstracted form of adulthood that both kids and adults can enjoy.

And, like, I do also enjoy a lot of media that is marketed towards kids! I love animation, and I’m aware that there are a lot of good kids media out there that are Kind Of Fucked Up Actually, but you’ll find that those shows aren’t trying to appeal to the same age demographic as, say, Bluey. And also very rarely ever actually kill/hurt children, or put very young children in traumatising situations that elicit an on-screen mental breakdown.

[parasociallyawkward]

I was 31 when the movie came out, but I regrettably didn't see it until it was on DVD. I instantly loved the film have seen it at least 7 or 8 times by now. It encapsulates so much about my tastes in entertainment, at least my tastes primarily back then. Still, while I may be able to understand why some elements of the film may not play well with contemporary audiences, the movie still works for me as a middle-aged adult.

The TLDR of it all was I spent my 20s as a quiet and introverted geeky kid, who lived with his mom and never went out on weekends. I spent my free time watching movies, listening to music, and playing video games. The extent of my social interaction was updating my Top 8 on MySpace or posting comments on AICN. Part of it was due to certain generational family trauma and a lot of it was due to me not feeling comfortable with conflict.

The long and short of it that I looked up to Michael Cera's titular Scott Pilgrim, but I really identified more with Cera's portrayal of George Michael on "Arrested Development." For a bit more color, an old friend once also compared me to Michael Bluth, once he heard a bit more about my aforementioned family drama.

After my own period of arrested development, I squandered my privileges and youth, by giving up on feeling seen or heard by those closest to me, and I lost myself in my passion for music, films, television shows, etc. I experienced what I assumed was normal behavior for people my age through media. Call it ADHD, self-misdiagnosed Autism, or just plain insecurity, I kept a lot of who I was to myself because it just didn't fit the mold of the '00s American male.

A lot of men in the aughts were more SpikeTV and I was more Sci Fi Channel. There was some overlap and I suppose certain preferences were informed by the ubiquitous appeal of attractive actors and spectacle. I'm not completely immune to what sells.

Get it?

I did manage to start putting myself out there, but it was still a bit before the start of mainstream appeal of comic book movies and yet 'Scott Pilgrim vs the World' manages to be one of the best comic book inspired films. I admittedly still have never read the books, so I can't speak for how good of an adaptation the movie is, but from a production standpoint, it's incredible.

The music, the visuals, the performances. All of it is just the right amount of what I love about the medium. It what I wrapped myself in through the early 2000's after and solid diet of the pop culture of the '80s and '90s. It's just what consumed me for most of my young adulthood until I stumbled into society at large.

I eventually started dating and got married at the cusp of my 30s. Ultimately, while my ex and I had a lot in common, it didn't work out. I was just shy of a decade away from the end of my first marriage when I first saw the movie and I immediately loved it, as I may have said repeatedly in real life to anyone who would listen. Unfortunately, some people kind of think it is weird that I'd have taken such a keen liking to this movie, when I first did at 31 years of age.

I don't really know how to explain and it pains me that once again, someone close to me doesn't quite get why I enjoyed certain things, at least it is comforting to know they understand where coming from. They get that I didn't have quite the same experiences growing up and that I use movies to relate to certain things I struggle with in the real world.

I regret missing it on the big screen and I don't care how old I am the next time it is screened for any upcoming anniversaries, this movie still hits on so many levels and it remains a favorite of mine. It defines a lot of aspects of who I used to be as well. The misguided sense of entitlement that comes with youth. I often would dream of my own Manic Pixie Suicide Dream Girl. I had certain expectations or assumptions that were based on hyperbolic depictions of visual and aural stimulation.

[wendytestabrat]

why i resonated with stan in “you’re getting old/ass burgers” (FROM THE VAULT [2020])

You’re Getting Old/Ass Burgers has always been one of my favorite South Park episodes because I feel like I’ve always connected to it on so many levels and related to Stan a lot. My favorite part is the end of part 2 (Ass Burgers) after Stan was so depressed and had been seeing shit for so long he came to the realization that he DIDN’T want things to go back to the way they were. He realized he was fine with his parents getting a divorce and Kyle ditching him to go fuck Cartman because it opened his life up to new possibilities of where it could go. In his words he’s all like “I’m gonna make a big left turn” or whatever. The ending is also frustrating tho bc everything ended up going back to normal anyways so we didn’t get to see how that would’ve played out, but we’re not gonna talk about that we’re just gonna talk about the beautiful speech Stan made. That part has always resonated with me so much bc I agree with Stan. I remember at a certain age I just got to a point where I realized that the key to staying happy and optimistic is to stay open-minded and keep trying new things. I think it’s rlly important in life to follow those child-like curiosities you have when you’re a kid, when you’re younger you’re excited about everything and want to know about the whole world and how everything works, and I think it’s good to continue that mindset into adulthood. For me personally, I get really depressed easily if I feel like I’m stuck in one place, following the same routine and doing the same shit over and over, like that’s the point when everything starts to turn to shit to me too. It’s good to add some excitement and spontaneity to your life, and I know it can be hard for a lot of people to get out of their comfort zones, trust me I get this sometimes I can be a stubborn bitch and I only wanna stay in the same lane doing the same thing over and over, but trying new things and embracing change is what builds character. Sometimes life can seem scary, especially when you’re young and you don’t have everything figured out, but the truth is life just gets easier the more and more you challenge yourself to get out of your comfort zone and try things, it makes you more fearless. The more you can gain knowledge and wisdom about different aspects of life the easier you have it figured out, and this all comes with allowing yourself to get excited about new things, expanding your interests and having an open-mind. And when I say trying something new it can be big or small. It can just simply be deciding to learn about something new each day, deciding to read a new book, watching a tv show or a movie you’ve never seen before, starting a new hobby, meeting new people (I know this one is a bad example bc everyone is social distancing LMAOO), for me I really love discovering new songs and listening to artists I haven’t heard before. I mean the risk that goes into trying something new is that maybe you won’t like it and sometimes we can have that mindset where we’re like “this is gonna suck” so we don’t even bother, but you never know until you try, and you can still have an opinion on something you don’t like too. (I can’t count how many times I’ve suffered watching something awful I could not care about but I did it anyways out of curiosity. Also NEVER form an opinion on something you know nothing about or shit on something you know nothing about or else you sound ignorant.) But open-mindedness and being able to adapt to change and trying new things is really the key to staying well-rounded and happy and fulfilled. Having a lot of interests also makes it a lot easier to be able to talk to a lot of different people about different things and make real fulfilling connections. So yeah to me, what Stan said was actually very wise and I agree with him because it’s kind of been my go-to philosophy on life.

update 2024: i’m starting to realize now that my constant need for stimulation and new experience is prob just my sociopathicness FFHJDJSJS bc i get bored of shit way quicker now than i did before

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Writing Prompt: Contravention Word Count: 1540 Bandit AU

It all started around ten years ago. 

When a teenage lalafell of an unknown background started to cause havoc for Ul’dah’s wealthy—but not nearly the lucrative job it would turn out to be later down the line. It started with your basic thievery. Pickpocketing here and there, stealing from merchant stalls when they were not looking or making a run for it when taken notice. Just little things here and there, with the help of some other unknown friends of theirs.

For the times he was caught, it usually ended with either a slap on the wrist due to age or a night’s stay in the gaol to try and frighten the squad of individuals who were involved in the petty crimes. Nothing serious or anyone hurt, just your common band of thievery people expected out of impoverished livelihoods. Punished but never helped. Let go and never knowing where they would go after.

Except none of them were officially from town. Their hideout far, far beyond the great walls and hidden deep within Thanalan’s desert. What goods and coin they managed to steal stowed away in these secretive locations to prepare for something more down the line.

Some years later, when they had reached adulthood and the pack of thieves had swelled… they were no longer regarded as an empty threat. Word was starting to get around of an organized group of bandits starting to make some headway in the local area. They were no longer resorting to petty thievery—they were outright starting to target those of the upper echelons.

These bandits, unable to find a foothold in Ul’dah quite yet, had started attacking traveling caravans full of merchant wares or known to be owned by those of high wealth. Stealing what they could and either selling things off discreetly, or slowly but surely growing their base of operations. Adventurers and sellswords would be sent after their lot but would either be knocked out if protecting someone’s possessions or they just could not locate the bandit’s base. It was that well kept a secret… no one knew where they went or where they hid.

There were, however, slip ups. And mainly made by one infamous young man in particular.

“Watch over him, soldier.”

“Aye, sir!”

The recently formed band of Immortal Flames had been instated within all of Thanalan’s grasps in preparation for trouble arising all over Aldenard. Wars were being waged with Garleans and castrums that were popping up like flies. The likes of a couple bandits were the least of their worries, but they had kept an eye out regardless. And so did they catch a suspicious young-looking man they would likely interrogate and see where they stood.

But before that, they had been captured and thrown into the gaol of which a certain Zura Calderon had been stationed on night watch. No questions asked of his superior, he merely stood guard as was necessary of him.

The unruly looking man appeared to be about Zura’s age in fact. Dressed in torn cloth and desert wear, not in the best of shapes as ratty ashy blonde hair pooled out from beneath their bandana. Dark menacing eyes that seemed to look so done with the world.

Zura couldn’t help but wonder what would lead someone down such a path that they ended up looking like this. So depraved and worn looking, as though they were lost in life. Against his better judgement, he couldn’t help but be curious.

“What are you in for…?”

“What’s it to you?” The man tilted his head as he sat upon a stool in his gaol. “They just think I look suspicious. Too close to their makeshift base or whatever. I wasn’t even doing anything.”

“You should know that it’s unwise to be anywhere too open at the moment! Lots of dangerous going on in the realm at the moment, so they’re checking just about anything and everywhere to make sure there are no Garleans in our midst—”

The guy simply rolled their eyes. “Do I really look like a warmonger to you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well there you have it then.” They scoffed as they crossed their arms. “It’s just an excuse. Bet they’re locking up anyone that looks them the wrong way.”

Zura couldn’t exactly defend nor deny. He had yet to debut on the field after all and was just a simple private who had been but recently recruited. There to help as the crisis grew around the realm! So… one couldn’t help but feel a little bad if the guy was apprehended for no good reason.

“I’ll make sure to put a word in with the others if all is true and you’ve done no wrong. What’s your name, by the by?”

“Pipin Tarupin.” A name no one would soon forget in the near future. “Remember it, I won’t repeat it twice.”

This was but one meeting between the two that would result in many more down the line. 

As they made small talk, Pipin made himself out to be naught but an innocent bystander. And indeed, when no evidence of any wrongdoing could be found on his person at the time… he would be released in the morning and warned to stay away from the Immortal Flames encampments that weren’t official strongholds like Drybone.

Since then, no particular troubles had occurred until after the Calamity. The realm torn up as it was and in dire need of assistance from their neighbors, the great city-states focused on themselves and the alliance. Attempting to rebuild whilst burying the insurmountable amount of dead from Carteneau.

…That was when the bandits finally upped the ante and made their presence known.

For in the wake of the calamity, those of nobility and wealth hoarded a majority of resources for themselves in Ul’dah while the people suffered greatly. It wasn’t unheard of the lower class hitting rock bottom, hardly having anything to eat or coin to get by while the Sultanate made laws that benefited themselves.

It was then that the bandits targeted the great Ul’dah houses one after another. Breaking into homes and stealing off into the night, a band of thieves who had grown in great number since many years ago. Everything they stole of great worth and weight in coin… yet it was not fully distributed amongst themselves.

No, it was given back to those of lesser fortune. Secret agents of theirs would target those in great need and give to them a portion of the riches. Slowly growing in size and number of those they helped without there being a clear connection of where it came from. Their reputation grew in popularity amongst the impoverished in quick succession. To the point they were being aided in new ways and given the foothold they always needed.

And their leader? None other than the mysterious Pipin Tarupin. Who would get captured here and there on the off-chance that his banditry didn’t go fully to plan… but would always escape one way or another before he could be met with actual punishment.

Whether it be slipping out of his gaol, sweet talking the guards, or simply having a secret aid within the Immortal Flames; he would always get away with it. One way or another.

…So too would he clash blades with that selfsame soldier who had been promoted countless times over the years. Except now with knowledge that Pipin was the one who was orchestrating the bandits, Zura gave the man no mercy.

A thorn in each other’s sides they were. But sometimes. Sometimes they’d talk! Whether it be during a bandit run or if they’d happen to run into one another privately. Zura would try to get to the bottom of why the bandit leader was the way he was. Trying to make him understand that what he was doing wasn’t beneficial to anyone, to which Pipin would always laugh and prove otherwise.

Enemies… rivals… many ways to describe their relationship. As easy as it would be to kill the other, they would hardly shed blood. Nor did it help either’s moral predicament when Pipin’s main code for his bandit crew were that they would shed no blood. They were not to kill under any circumstance unless backed into a corner. And even when they were, they opted not to unless they were under attack by other rival gangs.

It was impossible for any regular Ul’dahn to hate them. They were the robin hoods that saved those of lower wealth from having a worse fate. Just in a not so legal fashion. To a point that it started to look bad on the Immortal Flames for giving them as much trouble as they did—even if it’s their job to actually do so!

It put Zura in a rough predicament thanks to the bandit leader’s reputation. Oft did he try to sway the leader to see his side of things or at least stop him from having such a stronghold on the citizens, but never would Pipin listen. Instead finding fun and amusement in seeing Zura squirm.

Regardless, Pipin Tarupin was wanted by the law for his many violating actions. Good intentions or no, he would eventually be brought to justice!

…Or would he?

[urfavnegronerd]

I just found another Miles smut

They literally “aged them up” because it was like hcs ig and said that MINORS WEREN’T ALLOWED TO INTERACT

Literally barfing

i hmm this is such a convo

bc which miles? comic miles (ew)? itsv/atsv miles? PlayStation miles? i lowk hope it was play station miles bc that one is 17, and while he still is technically a minor, in a lot of places 17 is considered an adult. its still gross but slightly less gross? i'm-- so many thoughts about this.

its not like i don't condone smut, its just hard to figure out where the disconnect is with smut writers. below 18 in the u.s is considered a minor, however in different places its different. for example, in s. korea 19 is adult, not 18.

so likeeee very multifaceted in the sense that laws are different everywhere, and atsv was released in most countries.

bc i was born in the united states w a v rigid view on adulthood, yes this shit is fucking disgusting literally let him be a black boy not a fucking man. that's gross and rooted in racism bc i fine boaf miles' fine but i ain't never once thought about fucking them hello?!? i am also fairly certain that the people writing them are either a) sheltered or b) white. the sheltered thing i can understand because im first gen and my version of the sex talk was when i was really young at an art museum w some paintings of nudity with my aunt (who attended catholic school) who told me to 'hold an aspirin between your thighs', and i also didn't get sex ed in school. so i understand the 'draw' of writing taboo shit and consuming it but. baby. come awwwnnnnn. like yeah, good on you for acknowledging ur very human sexual desires, but what the fuck miles is a minor please stop.

i love love love that this fandom has opinions/ visions for characters but yall needa chill. that 'hobie is in love with miles because he turns pink!' is cute when its just your opinion, however the color doesn't necessarily dictate his emotions (at least we don't know for sure, we don't know much abt hobie), and he also turned from yellow to pink while holding mayday. the pink can symbolize adoration if u will. that's not to say you cant have ur punkflower hcs, js don't PUSH it yall. ur human, okay? a lot of people have sexual desires which is cool but stop pushing ur horny on a minor and animated character. its not cool, does not pass the vibe check.

unrelated but in the same vibe as the previous rant-- gwens character. there's a lot of discourse rn about her possibly being trans WHICH IS COOL but I've seen people attack others for politely disagreeing. i love that a lot of people are feeling comfortable and recognized with possible hints towards peoples identities, but please calm the fuck down. it was never that serious, never that deep babes i promise. because, yes, representation is quite wonderful (speaking as a queer black girl) but it doesn't always spark change, sometimes it causes the latter. and in this instance of yall projected ur opinions to the absolute max, is not inciting change. its inciting anger, disagreement, and toxcity. i'm not gonna lie, i'm on the side of lets js leave things where they are until animators disclose something. but rae their color schemes-- yall do know that pride flags were also created with aesthetics in mind, right? blue, pink and white go pretty together, AND they compliment lighter skin tones (like gwen). purple blue and pink go good together too, and we see a lot of that in miles' palate. BECAUSE IT COMPLIMENTS MELANIN. i love love love how people are incorporating themselves and their identities into this movie, shit i even do this, but can yall CHILL? for the love of god.

moral of the story: stop and think for a sec, okay? i promise your brain has good thoughts, but not everything has to be shared with the world.

[everygame]

Alter Ego (Apple Macintosh)

Developed/Published by: Peter J. Favaro / Activision Released: 27/04/1986 Completed: 21/11/2023 Completion: Died of old age in my bed, single, but a millionaire. Little Richard’s “Thinkin’ About My Mother” was playing on the radio as I played. “I swear I'm gonna love her… Yes, until the day I die.”

Alter Ego is a dated, sexist mess that basically doesn’t work at all.

I am so fond of it.

One of those games I found in my earliest forays on the internet, digging around for “abandonware” Alter Ego was immediately interesting to my teenage self–a game that let you live an entire life! Sure, it did it in a text-only, choose-your-own-adventure style, but I was already fiddling around with Infocom games and it wasn’t that many years out from owning an Amstrad CPC; the limitations had no effect upon the promise I imagined.

The interesting thing about when I played it then is that I remember playing it into Young Adulthood and never further. Until now I couldn’t remember why. Did I get bored? Was I overwhelmed with options?

Well, here’s a hint. Alter Ego was designed in 1986 by Peter J. Favaro, a psychologist who at the time was just 28 years old (which I am forced to admit is younger than I am now.) It becomes very quickly clear that past a certain point he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.

But let’s take a step back here and discuss how Alter Ego actually works. Really it’s one of the earliest examples of a hypertext game (it actually predates Hypercard, if you can believe it.) You progress through seven stages of life from infancy to old age, and in each, you progress through a kind of… card map? choosing cards which each contain a vignette where you have to make a few decisions–if you’re a toddler, do you share your toys? If you’re a teenager, do you act sulky to your parents when they won’t let you do what you want? And then have that effect your stats and have time pass as a result.

As the game progresses, it adds several cards that you can flip over whenever you feel like it. A card that lets you try and meet people, or have experiences with your current partner, for example. A card that lets you make big purchases that you might have to pay off with a loan. 

The goal in Alter Ego is, simply, to… see what happens, and it’s here that the game’s highest pleasures and greatest mistakes are found. I decided to play this via a classic Mac emulator (as I believe that Favaro created this on a Mac) and although I originally played this on PC, the convergence of playing this via a system that I haven’t touched since I was at high school made the early sequences of this game a brush with nostalgia I haven’t felt before. The game is at its highest when you get to in some ways relive, but not quite, the past.

Like most people who play this (at least the first time) I chose to play it making the kind of decision I would make, as best I could, at the time I’d make them, and each experience was a moment of–oh, remember when something like this happened? 

It’s not perfect. Designed in 1986 by a young, white American, there’s this strange sense of re-living your life by way of “Leave It To Beaver” even if, like me, you only know the reference second or third hand. Personally I looked at it as asking: what if I’d gone to an American high school and lived my John Hughes dreams? The game was developed in the same era, I watched The Breakfast Club as a teenager around the same time I was messing around with abandonware and using classic Macs at school... it all intertwines.

And really, if the game had stayed there, I think it could have worked. A kind of… growing up simulator. Add lots of different vignettes, not all which play every time, and then the player plays until they leave college and the game goes “congratulations! You became a CORN FARMER. You married ONE wife and had SIX children. Your dog is called JEFF.”

Sadly, it does not do that, and it becomes pretty clear that Favaro didn’t really have a clear plan or concept for how adulthood was going to work. Childhood and Adolescence, after all, are fairly clear cut. You have to go to school, your parents take care of most other responsibilities. From a western, middle-class perspective, you’ll mostly have the same kind of experiences. As an adult however, all kinds of things can happen at all stages of life. 

It goes wrong immediately. You can go to college, but there’s no clear pay-off, you never seem to graduate! Jobs are just… something you have. Purchases and money quickly turn out to be totally meaningless (there may be a fail-state if you run out of money with huge debts, but I didn’t see it.)

The problem is that Favaro is forced to flatten everything into the most generic experiences once he reaches adulthood as the biggest decisions we make in our lives–who to partner with, our careers–cannot really interact with the canned vignettes of the main path. The box art is like “become a baseball player or a nun!” but even if you could the actual experience is “what if you were a white collar worker in the 1980s” as your nun deals with getting chewed out by their boss and refused a promotion or whatever.

In many ways it’s simply a fault of coming so early. A modern game in even just Twine can far more easily modify its text based on the information you’ve given it, and more easily offer events that either relate to your stats and relationships. In many other ways, it’s the fault of the culture that Favaro lived in and which, sadly, he could not see beyond. I played the “Male” version, and attitudes to women are beyond poor; many later vignettes are basically Penthouse letters (actually, another American reference I only know second hand, I swear) and one vignette featuring your discovery that a friend is gay is… er… not good.

It’s made even weirder by how… judgemental the game’s “narrator” (read: Favaro) is when it comments on your decisions. He definitely has an idea how you should be living your life, and hell mend you for not following it.

All that said, however, there’s still some amusement and possibly revealing moments to be had in the later stages of the game. I for one was surprised by my complete inability to maintain a steady relationship and how borderline panicked I got as I aged about it! It seems like it might be fairly random, which makes how unforgiving it is almost hilarious: I had been living with a woman for years, we’d invested in a company and became millionaires, at least according to one vignette I got on amazing with her son from another marriage… I popped the question and she said no because I was “untrustworthy.” Relationship over.

I probably should have indulged less in those Penthouse letters vignettes… It was… research. For this article. Yeah. Not just because playing this made me feel like a teenager again and the teenager I was would have made all those decisions.

Anyway. As much as Alter Ego doesn’t work, what stands out about it is what stands out about, say, an Infocom game. The text-based nature of it draws you in as deeply as a book, and it simply engages the imagination to make the game something more than it is. I can see Floyd in Planetfall, and I can see my weird picket-fences middle-America alternate life here. For weaving that sort of magic, it does deserve some respect. Just don’t take it too seriously.

Will I ever play it again? As I expressed above, I’ve only ever played the Male version, and the Female version is supposed to have a series of bug-fixes and less instant-death situations, but far, far more sexism. I might take a look at it, but even if I don’t I can imagine noodling on this again, at least as a mirror into memory.

Final Thought: Worth noting that you don’t have to take my word on this game, it can easily be played in-browser, which is probably fine if you don’t have a dense, multi-layered nostalgia attached to it. Support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up a digital copy of exp. 2600, a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

[docterzerocare]

well, time for some rambles on the Self-Indulgent au (might make a more official name, but that's what we're calling it for now).

this time, on Fred and their backstory, because i thought about it a little too much.

so. Fred, like most workers on the Island, was born there. being born specifically to a family where his mother was a high ranking worker and his father a pretty high-up scientist in The Federation. Fred spent most of his childhood learning, spending time with his parents at work (there weren't a lot of people they trusted to look after their only son)...

and reading about flowers and plants.

it was an odd interest for a kid in his position to have, with the knowledge that he'd likely never be able to chase his dreams of working with flowers and plants. not that young Fred ever cared about that. he was still young. the cares of adult life were still far away from him.

he'd always get dragged to his parents' jobs every now and then, mostly so they could keep an eye on him. and he met a few people at their jobs!

two of them were a pair of twins, duck hybrids. they looked nearly identical, but they acted very different. one of them always seemed happy to see him, wanting to talk to him, while the other would quickly pull him along, not even really acknowledging Fred's presence. rude.

of course, there were also the other Workers. the bear things like him and his parents were. they were all really nice! joked around with him, helped him get things off of higher places, and they were just nice over all.

then there were...well, one just called itself ":)" (whatever the heck that was supposed to mean) and another called itself "Osito." they looked a little like Fred and his family, white bears...they looked ever so slightly off. stitches and seams on their skin, speakers on their chests, mouths that never moved from permanent smiles, and speaking in oddly monotone, robotic voices. a crude imitation of whatever Fred and the Workers were species wise.

...Fred never particularly cared for them. found them creepy.

as Fred grew older, his eyes were, unfortunately, forced open to the harsh realities of what his life would be in just a few years. his father had always had this air of...guilt about him. would wake up from nightmares apologizing. whenever his dad brought him to work, he'd always be told to stay with some other workers in a room for a bit while his father went to go do things. "experiments," as Fred was always told, that he wasn't allowed to see. his father puked a few times after getting out of them, for reasons that Fred wouldn't understand until his own adulthood.

now, when the Workers reach a certain age, they are pretty much forced to wear a mask, covering the top half of their face (from the nose up). it works the same way as a one-way mirror; while people looking at the Workers only saw white covering the face, Workers would still be able to see normally with no problems.

Fred thinks that it's stupid.

as Fred starts working for the Feds, things keep going wrong. his father seems to suddenly die at work, with the family being told that he had died during an experiment going wrong (Fred thinks that the wounds on his father's body say otherwise). his mother overworks herself in her grief, eventually dying from that.

and Fred is expected to go on like nothing had happened.

any sense of individuality is practically (metaphorically, usually) beaten out of the Workers past a certain age. Fred buries down most of it, but his love for flowers, plants, and their symbolism is always there. Fred keeps plants and flowers in his office to care for. one of the few things that kept him sane.

Fred gets desensitized to a lot; unethical experiments (against hybrid and dragon children, usually. now he thinks he knows what his father's unending guilt was about), the Feds' shitty treatment of just about everybody, ElQ's bullshit (fun fact because this is what i theorized; since a lot of the Workers act confused about Cucurucho's existence, i've thought ever since hearing that that ElQ was the overall boss of the Workers), just...everything. he choked his emotions down and just focused on work.

when the Islanders came, he paid the news of it no mind. as long as they didn't bother him, he wouldn't bother them. well...then four of their government-assigned kids (what Fred calls them, anyway) "die" and get forced back into being experiments. and...well, Fred's been desensitized to a Lot of shit.

he's never really been desensitized to a family's grief.

Quackity and Charlie acting out, even lashing out in their grief. all of the hurt parents, realizing their children could've been returned to them, being rightfully angry that they were forced to lose their children.

and, of course, Fred's boss murdering someone's child and taking his first life, and then getting murdered by a fucking unicorn hybrid of all things two weeks later out of sheer fury from what happened to her murdered child.

...Fred's gotta admit, it is certainly making him Feel Things. which hasn't happened in a while.

and, okay, maybe Fred, done with his boss' bullshit, decided to hand Flippa a gun and see what happened (a breakout, that's what happened). hey, the guy was bored at work and the Feelings were making him feel bad for the "dead kids," sue him!

and then a couple of months later, as everyone's kids went missing, and some new people are brought to the Island...Fred meets someone. Tubbo. The Canary. The Boy With The Pretty Eyes.

and it's starting to unlock some...repressed feelings and thoughts for them.

she's getting back into flower care. he's starting to realize some things about himself. they're starting to actually feel things again.

and that scares them.

so they start exchanging letters in secret. they meet in secret. they don't want to get either of themselves into trouble with this.

Tubbo, one of the only non-Federation avian Islanders with non-clipped wings, takes him out flying one day. and suddenly, Fred understands why the Feds want the avians' wings clipped. Fred's never felt so...free. maybe that's what attracted Fred to Tubbo; it was that long-desired freedom. Fred's own personal rebellion in a sense.

everything's going well.

until Quackity kidnaps her.

and okay, maybe he said some fucked up shit. maybe he said some shit he'd regret later. but to be fair, he was being kidnapped and tortured for information, as well as having his crush Also threatened.

they find their way out eventually, hiding out in the wilderness for a while until Tubbo, Fit, and a few coworkers find them to take them home.

soon, though, he is dragged back to The Federation by Cucurucho, who doesn't even seem to care that she nearly died. that he'd gotten kidnapped. just viewed as a disappointment, basically.

and Fred decides y'know what? No. no more of this.

and she leaves. disappears out into the wilderness. he'll build a new life for himself.

Fred will finally be their own person.

and the Islanders (yes, even Quackity) are going to get a new ally.

(fun fact about the Workers: i headcanon that they speak the Animal Crossing language. they can understand the Islanders just fine, their vocal chords just aren't really built to speak any normal human languages. it's why they use the books)

don't mind me, i just have many thoughts on Fred. might explain more later (specifically Fred's healing arc, and the arc where they both start trying to unlearn Federation Bullshit and earn the trust of the Islanders. and Quackity. this is also the arc where Fred gets to be The Dad/Parent That Stepped Up to Sunny :])

anyway that is all for now, enjoy the Fred + Worker worldbuilding in the Self-Indulgent au

Omg fred!! Im loving this. I like how its the parental grief that gets to them, reminiscent of his dad, that gets her to feel that compassion again. Its a cool parallel. And the childhood interest in flowers!! Amazing, top tier

I love that all they basically had to do was give juana a gun for the kiddos to break out <3

Also q!dandy mention! We love to see it (feds need to stay away from the eggo 🔫)

Also also canary tubbo <3 (kinda really funny because the last major plot thing i really paid attention to before qsmp closed was tubbos death, so.. yknow still accurate lmao)

[overgrowngnome]

["The Self as Risk

What makes the therapeutic narrative as a conduit to adulthood most problematic is that it transforms the self into one's greatest obstacle to success, happiness, and well-being. Indeed, the therapeutic narrative leads young people to make themselves the heroes, victims, and villains of their own lives (See also Furedi 2004; Moskowitz 2001). In teaching young people that they alone can manage their emotions and heal their wounded psyches, the therapeutic ethos dovetails with the neoliberal ideology in such a way as to make powerless working-class young adults feel responsible for their own happiness. In a neoliberal world of unpredictable markets, fragile families, hollow institutions, and anemic safety nets, the self--alone and uncertain--is endowed "with the power to make or unmake itself" (Ulluoz 2008: 131). Indeed, the vast majority (n=70) of informants reported that they viewed themselves as their greatest risk. As Kelly, a twenty-eight-year-old line cook, declared, "When I start feeling helpless, I just have to make a conscious decision to not feel that way. It sounds easy and it's really not. There's just no other choice. No one else is going to fix me but me." 

Their foundational belief that they are completely and unconditionally responsible for creating a good life leads young people to examine their personal traits and behaviors for signs of weakness that could explain their precarious lives. For many, the fear that they will not take the "right" risk looms as a logical explanation for failure. Candace, the young black women who has overcome a family legacy of drug abuse and poverty, as well as depression, explained, "Um, the biggest risk is putting too much out on the line with my family. Being scared to fail. Being scared, the unknowing, yes. Because their will be certain things I won't do that could make me a stronger person, could make me more success [sic], but I'm just afraid of doing it because it's a chance. It's a risk." 

But it is Delores, a thirty-four-year-old white woman, who most powerfully demonstrated the cruelty and injustice of the mood economy. When we first met, she was working the cash register at a bakery outside of Lowell where I often stopped for coffee on my way to an interview. Judging her to be a possible interviewee, I asked if she would like to participate in my study. A few days later, I returned to the bakery during her lunch hour to her about her experiences of growing up. 

Delores's father was laid off from a shoe factory when she was young and never found stable employment again. Learning from an early age that work is precarious and the future is unpredictable, she recalled: "The way I grew up, we grew up with nothing and we were never told what to do with it if we ever got it. In a lot of ways, I feel like I'm living the same way my parents are. Just...day by day." Delores explained that she had been struggling with depression since high school. A few years ago, she got pregnant and her boyfriend insisted she have an abortion, which led to a "downward spiral," a tumultuous breakout, and a spending spree that left her tens of thousands of dollars in debt. 

"D: I took a nosedive again. I decided I wanted to try medication. I went in and I was diagnosed. I went into a study because I didn't have any money. It was on the radio I think. But it was a study to test the effectiveness of concentrated doses of Saint John's Wort against Prozac. It was a study, so I didn't know what I was on whether it be sugar pills, Saint John's Wort, or Prozac. But after a certain amount of time if it doesn't work they take you out and put you on Wellbutrin, which has been shown to work on a wide variety of people. It wasn't working, so they put me on Wellbutrin, and I was on that for awhile and then they switched me over to Prozac. I guess it's not so bad if I remember to take my pill every day like I'm supposed to. But when I get off kilter I get very stressed and then I'll do impulse buying. Like, oh I don't care, I'll just spend the money. So that kind of screws me. I would like to be good and do what I am supposed to do, but then I get so upset and I don't want to do anything. I just don't want to think about bills, I don't want to pay anything...I just..."

Like many informants, Delores explained her problems in the present through the lens of her mental disorder. At the time of the interview, she told me she was developing new ways of managing her depression with remedies found on the Internet: drinking copious amounts of caffeine, smoking marijuana, and illustrating children's books to relax. 

A few months later, when I was back in Massachusetts for interviews, I stopped by the bakery again, but Delores was not there. I asked her co-worker, Lindsay, whom I had gotten to know through my frequent visits, if she was still employed at the bakery. Delores, she informed me, was suffering from another debilitating round of depression: she had frequent migraines, could not get out of bed for weeks, and had eventually been fired for missing too many days of work (which meant she had also lost her health benefits). During her last few weeks of work, she had been caught drinking beer in the back kitchen and was suspected of stealing money from the cash register; there was no chance that she would be hired back. I left the bakery feeling confused and sad, trying to reconcile my memory of the soft-spoken, solemn woman who had kindly donated her time to me with the erratic, irresponsible behavior described by Lindsay. Then, about a year later, after I had moved back to Boston, I ran into Lindsay again. "You'll never guess what happened," she said, tearing up. Delores, she informed me, had died just a few weeks before of cancer. Her intense headaches, extreme fatigue, and behavior and emotional changes were not caused by depression, but by a malignant brain tumor that went undiscovered until after her death. There are treatments for brain cancer, including surgery, radiation therapy, and chemotherapy, and there are also ways to improve one's quality of life. But Delores saw the world through the therapeutic lens, attributing all her suffering to psychic wounds. When she lost her health insurance, she continued to treat herself with home remedies, trying until the end to heal herself. Viewing the world through the lens of the their therapeutic narrative, it never occurred to her to see a medical doctor for her headaches, not that she could have afforded it. Delores's death is a tragedy, one brought about not only by a lack of material resources, but also by a cultural logic that makes self-management the taken-for-granted, and indeed only, solution to pain.”]  jennifer m. silva, from coming up short: working-class adulthood in an age of uncertainty, 2013

jennifer m. silva, from coming up short: working-class adulthood in an age of uncertainty, 2013

[profanetools]

Hello! I hope this isn't a bother but I was curious if you had any headcannons on Dwemeri names and naming conventions? I hope you're having a good day!

I have quite a few, actually! these are just all my onw headcanons, really:

dwemer have at least two names during their lifetimes

as children, they have a childhood name that is given to them by their parents and will be changed later as a rite of passage to adulthood

childhood names aren't considered particularly important and can be pretty much anything - often it's a diminutive form of something else, sometimes taken from a precious metal/stone or a tonal theory that's well-regarded, or just a few nonsense syllables that have tones the parents consider interesting, cute, or thought-provoking. They serve as placeholders for adult names but theyre also something children carry with them for a while, so something fun or playful that says 'you're valued' implicitly is really what people look for. what's discouraged are names which talk about values or roles as these tend to form adult chosen names and are something the child will decide for themselves later.

the other type of name a dwemer has is their adult name, or chosen name.

chosen names are serious business. they're often practical, reflecting the role a dwemer occupies in their society, or a value they consider most important and seek to emulate - and thus a dwemer needs to have strong idea of who they are, their purpose and what role they play in the community.

there is no set age or time where dwemer decides on a chosen name. this can be as soon as they turn 20 (which is when adulthood begins, emphasis on begin - you're a young adult in dwemer society until you're about 35 to 40), or they finish mandatory education, whichever is sooner. this is rare and often discouraged as you need to be fairly certain about your values, your sense of purpose & who you are when you choose a name - it's considered worse to be too hasty when making this decision than being too late. A common time dwemer choose their name is on their return from a sabbatical, i.e. a lengthy break young adult dwemer tend to take before or after further study for the purpose of further independent research, often outside of the clan. Most dwemer tend to spend at least five years in what we'd think of as higher education (though the exact method of teaching etc. differs with a lot more apprenticeships as a rule) and it is during this time that most transition to an adult chosen name.

when a dwemer wants to choose a name, they'll often speak to their teachers & clan elders/chiefs informally for ideas and advice, giving suggestions if need be. Once they've chosen their name, they need to justify this in front of a panel of teachers/clan elders/chiefs - usually the ones you've talked to - who grill you about it (it's a peer-reviewed process lol). They will not actually stop you from choosing your name after the review, but dwemer 1. love an excuse for a formal disagreement and 2. feel that part of adulthood is being confident enough in yourself and your goals and having developed enough argumentative skills to say 'no, this is actually who I am, politely fuck off' to a group of wise, well-respected elders who seek to challenge you on an issue where you know as much if not more. The whole process is about understanding the difference between respect and reverence for authority.

If things in their life change, dwemer may change names again to reflect this (the process is nowhere near as involved). This isn't frowned upon - but rather seen as fairly normal.

another blogger - Ayem - has noted that -ac (or aka) in Kagrenac and Dumac most likely signifies 'chief'. From that, I think dwemer tend to add titles as suffixes to the ends of names. It's quite possible that someone will keep the base root of their name their entire life but the suffix will change to reflect their position and expertise in their chosen profession.

A lot of this actually is based off ayem's translation of Kagrenac - king/chief of tones/music - and Dumac - king/chief of us/the dwemer. These aren't names people would have from birth and are closer to titles.

Titles as suffixes make names quite formal, so diminutives and nicknames are commonly used (a variety exist for different relationships but family and partners use them most frequently, for obvious reasons).

Like many things in dwemer society, names aren't gendered. A dwemer of any (or no) gender can use any dwemer name.

[brodependent]

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam: a meta

Much as I love reading good meta, I don’t often write meta. Thus please accept my apologies if this is mediocre, and let me start with a simple topic sentence:

Sam loves Dean as much as Dean loves Sam.

A little longer, now: Sam is even better at loving Dean than Dean is at loving Sam because of Dean’s profound and abiding love for Sam.

Confusing, right? But not really.

We all know how Dean lives and breathes SammySammySammywatchoutforSammy. It’s his defining mission, his ultimate purpose, or, as a therapist might say, his “core belief.” But sometimes I think that we allow adult!Dean too little autonomy. We assume that he can’t help himself: he’s locked into this single-minded focus, on loving and protecting the only family he has left.

That sells Dean short. (Hang in there, I promise I’ll get to Sam in a moment.)

Even people who have been forced into a certain way of life have choices. Even people who have been told who they are all their life have choices. Dean tells us, in Season 14, I’m good with who I am--and I, for one, believe him. Whether we follow canon all the way to 15x17, when Dean is finally brought back from the edge of his desire for revenge against Chuck by his love for Sam (the only thing that’s “real”), or whether we keep to season 1 when Dean said--that’s all we have...that’s all I have... and I want us to be a family again and as long as I’m around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you--Dean has always accepted his role as Sam’s big brother. Dean’s life is unabashedly Sam-centric. He’d change a lot of things, but in the end he’d change nothing, because he wouldn’t change that. 

Some fans get very het up about the codependent aspect of this. Others (in my opinion, rightly) defend it. There’s scads of meta on why the Winchester dynamic IS necessary for their mythic role in the narrative, and their human role in the narrative (more importantly), so I won’t write that meta now. All I’m saying is what I think you already know: Dean lives for Sam, his baby brother, and despite the grief, the growing pains, the occasional cruelty of desperate love, Dean said it all when he told Sam (and us), Don’t you ever think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you.

So where does that leave Sam, and his love for Dean? Let’s start with that line I just quoted. Building on the above, Dean’s goal in life is to give Sam a life. He wants Sam to be happy. He wants him to be free. He also wants to keep him by his side forever, to control him for safety and comfort’s sake, and sometimes those instincts of a frightened-child-turned-traumatized-man win out. Dean isn’t perfect. Dean’s full of contradictions. But time and again he goes back to stone number one: what he can do for Sam. What he can offer Sam, by being the grunt, by standing in harm’s way. 

When we begin the story, Sam has succeeded in the path Dean helped carve for him. I’m not taking all the credit from Sam here, and giving it Dean: merely pointing out that Dean stepped into traditional parental roles and helped send Sam into adulthood, even though that meant Sam leaving him. We know that the night Sam left for Stanford was one of the worst of Dean’s life, but even in mid-season 1, Dean tells Sam he’s proud of him. You always know what you want. You stand up to Dad. Hell, sometimes I wish I--

(this, of course, is beautifully echoed in the series finale itself)

Dean is telling Sam what so many parents tell their children: you have gone places I never could, accomplished goals I never could, grown in grace and understanding like I never could. At least, I like to think that’s what the best parents tell their children.

To Dean, Sam is always the one with more hope. More wholeness. More options. To Sam, Dean is stone number one. 

You asked how Sam loves Dean, and my answer is: just look. Look at how Sam goes out into the world young, stands up to their father, makes his own decisions, fights back against Dean’s own nihilistic narrative through their primary losses and setbacks. Dean gave Sam the safety to build a better worldview than Dean himself has, and Sam turns that right back around and tries to give it to Dean. 

What do you think my job is? You’re my big brother--there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. 

I can’t lose you.

You’re not a grunt, Dean, you’re a genius.

This is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother.

I am going to save my brother. And then I’m going to kill you dead.

If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.

I believe in us.

This is just a small collection of Sam quotes showing his love for Dean. A small collection showing the persistent theme of Sam’s persistence. He knows that pushing chick-flick moments and emotional conversations can get jokes for a dime a dozen, and even the occasional punch thrown his way. He keeps at it anyway. When Sam knows Dean’s hurting, he wants to help. He’d do anything to help. He won’t sit around and see his brother turn into an embittered killer (season 2), go to hell for saving his life (season 3), take on the Trials (season 8), be irrevocably corrupted by the Mark of Cain (seasons 9-10), let him despair (seasons 11 and 13), let him sacrifice himself to an archangel’s grave (season 14), or let him lose his goodness to the whims of a vicious god (season 15). Sam fights for Dean with full use of his considerable gifts--intelligence, rationality, resourcefulness, and yes, the occasional blind rage. Sam looks to Dean, first as a leader, then as a judge, and finally as an equal. Sam has been looking up to Dean since he was four, yes, but over the course of the show he comes to look at Dean. With love, peace, understanding, humor, pain...whatever their inimitable connection requires.

The quotes I noted above also reveal Sam’s own conflicts rear up. Sam and Dean (again, in my opinion) are equally developed characters. Both have flaws and inconsistencies. Both have struggles inherent to their personalities and upbringings, distinct from those imposed on them by supernatural forces. 

Sam had a glimpse of a different life, once. He had the smarts, he had the drive, he had the sheer stubbornness to live a different life than John or Azazel or hell, even Lucifer had planned for him. But also in Sam--innate in Sam--is his core of goodness and compassion and the principle of doing right, which leads him back into the life and to soul-crushing sacrifice again and again.

Sam breaks and is broken. Sam suffers and ages and spends more time in hell than even Dean, who went to protect him.

But what keeps Sam going? Dean. Dean can’t live without Sam. We know that. The flip side is that Sam doesn’t want to live without Dean. Importantly, I think, he has more choice in the matter. Dean focused his whole childhood identity on giving Sam a life that meant he had choices, even if Dean didn’t know he was doing that. Sam can move through more crowds, more roles, more relationships. He has a better education, he has a more powerful ability to intellectually reason and detach. He would have made a great lawyer. Yet he casts all this aside out of sheer willpower, choosing instead to love Dean and live with Dean through the chaos of their lives, and to go near mad when Dean is gone. Consider Sam in season 4, Sam in season 10...Sam in season 8 trying to atone for the very choice that Dean (the best part of Dean) wanted him to make, even if the real muddle of Dean’s psyche couldn’t forgive him, for a time, for making it.

All of this leads us to the finale. 

You said you wish Sam had said I love you back to Dean in the finale. I argue that he did. He made his love perfectly clear to Dean in that moment by holding his hand, by looking in his eyes. He said, you can go now, when all he wanted was for Dean to stay. 

The best part of Dean wanted Sam to have happiness and freedom. At the end of his life, Dean was finally able to communicate that without fear or reservation. 

But the bittersweet brilliance of that moment is that Sam--the Stanford boy who went to hell and back, who saved the world, brought down one god and raised another--no longer wanted any kind of happiness or freedom that didn’t include the one person who’d been by his side all along. Dean was giving his blessing for a path that didn’t beckon Sam anymore. And yet: Sam said yes to it out of the love for Dean. Sam went out of that barn, out of the bunker, out of that day and that year and that decade and into the next and the next, out of love for Dean. Sam loved Dean by living. He loved Dean by raising another Winchester. He loved Dean by holding all their contradictions, flaws, and heroisms in his heart (in their car), until he’d done what he set out to do many times over. 

Then he met Dean on a mended bridge, dressed in old clothes that said: I was happiest at the beginning. I was happiest when we could be brothers again. I took my time getting here anyway, because I know that was what you wanted. I took my time so that we could be happiest now.

If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

[the-dao-of-the-zerg]

There are a remarkable number of fields dominated by youth, of which sports and science both stand out: "A person who has not made his great contribution to science before the age of 30 will never do so."

I'm not sure that anything you learned about repairing cars in the 1920s is still useful today. Certainly, I'd be a lot more inclined to trust someone who started 10 years ago and thinks in terms of electrical systems and modern design.

Ancient Corporations with huge moats routinely get taken down by upstarts who are more willing to take risks and embrace new technologies.

Knowing how to make the greatest sword in the land just means you're one of the five swordsmiths still around in The Era Of Guns

A huge chunk of industrial history is dominated by "work people until they break down", and elves don't break down any slower

Really, if you know you're going to live to 300, are you even willing to take half of these jobs?

If a human and an elf both take about the same time to meet an on-the-job-fatality while working in the Bomb Squad, you're going to see a lot fewer elves reaching retirement age

Do we struggle with this in the real world, where young people rarely get jobs because employers largely favor 50 year old experts? Most of the industries I'm aware of are dominated by younger people, but I work in tech so there's obviously some bias.

Do people really even improve in skill past a certain point? Is an airplane pilot with 30 years of experience significantly better in some way that I, the passenger, should care about?

---

And one I'm particularly curious about: most of what humans learn, we learn as kids. It is notoriously rarer and more difficult to learn skills as an adult. But the elven kids all grew up in an era where sword-smithing was still a useful skill! How much does it mess you up, having a childhood so long that half your skills are obsolete by adulthood?

Even weirder: What's it like, being raised in an era that considered women to be property, only to have that be a completely obsolete and reviled worldview just 100 years later when you become an adult?

So one of the things that I think very few fantasy series have ever grappled with is that in any world with intelligent creatures of varying lifespans but broadly similar rates of learning, the longest-lived ones really should end up ruling the world.

Not even by dint of some elf-mans-burden, just by practice. If a human and an elf take the same amount of time to learn to smith, and advance in skill at the same rate, then even if it takes an equal fraction of an elf's life to grow to adulthood, their adulthood is just much longer. Right when the human is breaking down the elf isn't even middle aged! Her swords or horseshoes or whatever will better, up to some inherent limit of quality as a function of skill.

And same should apply to governance, investing, fighting, whatever. Even a world of peaceful egalitarian creatures living in a Republic will tend towards a hierarchy of longest-lived on top, because the best skilled for the position will be the one whose spent lifetimes learning and practicing it.

Now, I'm of the opinion that such a society should research life extension for its shortest-lived citizens, but in the mean time it will sorta suck to know you're just born to not have the time to ever really be great

I guess that's not dissimilar to the birth lottery of skill and luck and privilege that exists in our world.