#it could be a metaphor in how his father is trying to overcompensate and how he just wants Mahito to fly again so he creates and works so-

[will-o-wips]

It is 4 am. I'm staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, coincidentally having my phone right in my line of sight, and write this with the exasperation and intense focus that I probably won't ever have again. I'm about to attempt to make any sort of sense of the latest Hayao Miyazaki movie, The Boy and the Heron (or rather, How do you live? in Japanese), that I watched for the first time in theatres a day ago.

I cannot claim to be right, or to know everything about this movie. Actually acclaimed critics and people with obviously more braincells than me have probably better takes than I do. But I must speak, lest the insanity truly take over my brain, lest I really end up combusting because of how much I want to talk about this.

Prepare yourselves for the most incoherent train of thought and line of consciousness you will ever experience.

FILLED WITH SPOILERS READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE MOVIE.

Before I start with my actual thoughts, however, I'll state my personal feelings about the movie, because I feel that matters too, and this is my post anyway so! But I personally left the cinema feeling somewhat mellow. I was not insane about it yet. It was,,, "meh". The impression of the ride was great; I was giggling along with the funny and even sometimes not purposefully funny moments, I enjoyed the animation to the point I would genuinely flap my hands in excitement at how good it was, I understood the story in great lines by noticing small details and going "oh so does this mean x?". But I did not cry. Not a single tear during or after or before the movie. I did not waver with my opinion on it as I rambled about it to my friends online and irl, much to their annoyance. I did not hesitate when I put it in my silly little Studio Ghibli movie tierlist maker that I update whenever I watch another one of these films together with my friends, categorized (in)discreetly under "all vibes no plot but there's a witch/wizard". I still don't, in fact.

So, given all of this, you'd probably say that I disliked the movie. That I would not have so much to say about it, after doing my mandatory ramble and update. Wrong. I still have more to say, somehow.

Despite that, I didn't rewatch the movie itself. I read an entirety of one (1) review of it, together with one (1) random video essay of 8 or so minutes, covering the basics of it. I reblogged one (1) post about its protagonist on tumblr and otherwise kinda read through the rest of the posts on here. I did not re-experience or re-examine this movie again. I cannot (again) accurately reference anything besides that what I vaguely remember from watching it a day or two ago. It's not playing anywhere near me anymore/not out anywhere else yet, so really, I don't even know what possessed me to write about this, or even say anything. The most fascinating thing (to probably all of us here) is; what made me change my mind about it?

It might've been the review on IndieWire. David Ehrlich and his well-written review, bringing things into much needed context as to why this movie was created. It could've been the fact that I've actively processed the movie better, now a little bit of time has passed. [Honestly it deserves a second watch/view for something more concrete, but I'm repeating myself with this, you get it.]

But I don't even really understand it myself. I felt and still feel so detached from this movie in a sense. I appreciate the artistry that went into it, and I adore the way it simply tells the story and leaves it up to interpretation. It references every single film Hayao Miyazaki has ever made before, and elements of other Ghibli films can probably be found in there too, if you looked hard enough. The vibes were similar to those of Spirited Away, and Howl's Moving Castle, given how inexplicably fantastical the world was. It just existed and breathed, and we as the audience jumped straight into it. We never got more exposition than what was needed; honestly I have a feeling that the second half of the movie was the vaguest piece of media I have ever consumed in my life. But it also had this perfect balance of the more drama-focused Ghibli films. The Boy and the Heron, in my opinion, is like the golden middle between reality and fantasy, both in terms of its narrative as well as comparison between other Ghibli movies.

This might also be the reason why I felt confused. The lines between reality and fantasy were so effortlessly blurred, that you could only process a singular picture. And when things are vague to me, I constantly need to pick them apart and analyse them, simply to satisfy my own curiosity.

The moment before I stepped into the movie theatre, my friend who watched along with me told me they heard it was a film about grief. I nodded along and said "yeah, okay, that just means it's another one of many Hayao Miyazaki and Ghibli films. Most of them are about some kind of loss, and dealing with it, either way." I sat down together with them; row 9, chairs 17 and 18, with my two bottles of water (one carbonated, one stilled) and the bag of terribly sour packaged chocolate pretzels I bought at the theatre itself. Horribly overpriced for the quality, I must say. My friend held onto the popcorn, and we sat through the ads, talking and laughing, anticipating something that was supposed to blow us away.

I cannot speak for my friend, but I think they really liked the movie regardless. They didn't cry at it either, even though we both know of each other that we always cry at such things. Somehow this movie evoked a certain stillness in us both; a stalemate between emotions and confusion. Maybe delayed processing. Maybe something else entirely. We both, or at least I, hid it until later.

It was midnight, and right before we stepped on our train home, I was excitedly going on about the references and animation, the things I did appreciate. I bragged a bit about how I recognized Kenshi Yonezu's voice in the final credit song that we didn't get to listen to entirely, because it was so late and we had to rush to get home. They laughed at me and told me to take some time to actively formulate any coherent thoughts on it. I disagreed (lovingly and jokingly of course), and we left it at that.

In the train itself, the same high dimmed into a simmer, the excitement replaced with contemplation, and I kept talking.

I told them: "I believe that this truly is his last film. This felt like a goodbye." And in return, they replied: "It's crazy how this is the last time we'll ever get to live in such a moment. The release of the final Ghibli movie in theatres.

"I'm glad we got to go."

I was too.

I got home, rambled about the intrinsic way The Boy and the Heron referenced other Ghibli movies to my online friends who had yet to see it. Followed by a heated tangent about how When Marnie Was There truly could have had better direction in regards to the narrative, as well as how Only Yesterday was the most boring out of all Ghibli movies. It was a nice night. I didn't think about the movie again.

The following morning, I contacted other friends, who told me about how Robert Pattison voiced the Heron in the English dub, which I hadn't seen or heard at all. He did a great job, judging by the trailer. This led me to another opinion, namely the video essay (I will try to find it and put it in the notes later if you are curious), which claimed something similar to this (of course, paraphrased):

"This is a farewell. The one true movie to tie such an expansive career. It is another movie where you are allowed to explore the magical together with the main character, while sticking close to the processing of it all."

The review I read said it was a swan-song, that it was the question and title of the movie in Japanese, posed at us, after The Wind Rises left it open to interpretation at the end of its run. That this was a story about the legacy that Miyazaki is leaving behind, how reality and fantasy coexist together, possibly influencing each other (not explicitly said but what I interpreted that review saying, so no this is also not completely like this).

Other tumblr posts I've seen on here say it was a film most likely dedicated to his son, Goro Miyazaki. That it was a gentle "I'm sorry, the shadow I leave behind is huge. I know that you will try and fail to fill it. It's okay; you don't have to. You can leave it behind. It's alright if this legacy dies with me."

Some other sources I've seen compare the main protagonist to Miyazaki himself, trying to grapple with the ending.

Yet somehow, all of these interpretations seem to fail to explain the entirety of this movie. The bigger picture if you will. These themes and moments and interpretations are not wrong, but to me, they're not satisfying enough.

Because maybe I am the only one who actually was insane about this moment, but I will never forget the delivery room scene between Mahito and Natsuko. How Himi addresses the magic stone, pleading to let the two go, saying "Natsuko and the boy who is to be her son". (Again, paraphrased, I cannot remember the exact line.) Maybe I am the only one who witnessed the whimsical fire witch and the going back in time plots and the fact that a younger Kiriko and Himi were there, already part of an ecosystem. How we already know from the other grannies in the house that Mahito's mother disappeared once for a whole year into the tower, and then came back the same as before. How the pelicans were BROUGHT there, that they did not belong there, and yet were forgetting how to fly. How they ate the Warawara, these creatures that were rising above to be born in the upper world. How the Heron's weakness was his 7th tail feather (or something along those lines), and how the fish and the frogs chanted for Mahito to join them in the tower. That the great-great-uncle was hoping for Mahito to succeed him and build a new tower, yet the king of the parakeets butted in and haphazardly did the job, resulting in it immediately toppling over, as well as the stones getting cut.

I think about the final scene where the Heron says "It's best to forget. Do you have any keepsakes?" And Mahito shows not only older Kiriko's figure, but also a piece of the stone paths they walked upon in order to get to the centre, the beating heart, the magic stone and his great-great-uncle.

How this is taking place during a war, that the timeline goes from his mothers death that Mahito cannot get over, to the welcoming of his stepmother and his new younger sibling. Them moving back to Tokyo. The way the tower completely collapsed. Completely and utterly collapsed and perished; not even a trace of it left behind. The way that older Kiriko keeps yelling it is a trap to Mahito in the beginning, but that both he and the Heron know. That it is inevitable to tread this specific path. That he must see for himself, whether his mother is truly alive. The way she both was and wasn't; first a mirage of her older self disappearing into a puddle of water, and second a firey spirit of her younger self coming to help Mahito. The way that he reads and cries at the book she left him, the way he hits himself with a rock after his big fight with his classmates; the way Mahito in general drowns consistently in the beginning of the film. He drowns in the fire that he lost his mother in. He drowns in the mud and the dust when he tries to enter the tower at first. He drowns in his dreams, in his tears, drowns right into his quest to find Natsuko (straight through the floor, by behest of his great-great-uncle), drowns in pelicans trying to eat him, nearly drowns in the actual sea until younger Kiriko fishes him out.

Now these things may seem like me just randomly naming shit that happens in the movie. Hopefully in a slightly poetic way, possibly. I could go on and on about the imagery, truly. But my point is, this movie may have been Miyazaki's last movie, his way of closure, his way of speaking to his son about his legacy, his way of describing the grief of losing his mother (idk if this is autobiographical or not. It very well may have been), yet...

Even so, it doesn't really fit the entire picture. It feels incomplete. The analyses always focus on the true meaning behind this movie, what happens behind the scenes, this one key climactic moment between Mahito and his great-great-uncle. But that's as if you would ignore the rest of the movie in general. As if the fantastical aspects weren't there to abstractly tell a story besides just being a symbol of closure for the person that directed it.

Personally, this is a tale of rebirth. Of losing yourself, and then rediscovering yourself in a way. I associate it with my own personal loss of my grandfather; the family member I felt closest to out of everyone.

The way you look back at such a traumatic stage in your life, something that irrevocably changed you for good, something that you probably don't ever want to relive again, but also mustn't forget. The way you instinctively are afraid to learn about who the person you love and grieve was, before you were in their life.

To this day, I still cannot speak to my mother about whether my grandfather had a favourite song before me forcing him to sing along with my favourites. A favourite book before he read out bedtime stories to me tirelessly. Who the boy in him was, and what wisdom and life lessons he carried on, into his grave, into the hearts of his children.

This movie depicts so much more than just grief, it's so much more than just legacy, even. It directly reflects the way I know I would have felt had I dared to actually see things for myself. If I actually dared to go through my grandfather's old things; the books he wrote and dedicated to me, the books he read when he was young. This movie depicts not how to live, but how to live on.

And the only way to live on is to move forward. To look at the foundations upon which it was built, to evaluate whether you truly want to have this be your burden to carry for the rest of your life. Mahito's abstract grief in regards to his mother, and the solace he finds in the fact that he at least knew who she was; that he at least had her in his life as both his mother and the girl that his stepmother knew, that at the very least he knows his mother would do it all over again, if she could. That despite everything, she did not regret a thing, and that she was not afraid. That somewhere, in the past, she lives on, happily marching toward this fate, because she knows that Mahito will be there to meet her again in the future.

And Natsuko, god, she worries relentlessly about whether Mahito will accept her. She worries to the point she yells at him, telling him that she hates him and his existence, because he rejects her so coldly and yet still bothers to show up in front of her during her most vulnerable moments. That he only takes and takes and takes; he steals her cigarettes in order to learn how to sharpen a knife from one of the servants. He uses those techniques to create a bow and arrow, a weapon. He gets into fights at school, he gets gravely injured on the side of his head, leaving a lasting scar.

If I were in her shoes, I would be furious at him too. Especially if he walked straight into the delivery room, trying to drag me out of bed while I was doing my damn best to keep the other child in my belly alive.

That scene, that sheer rage, and the way it ALL FUCKING SUBSIDES the MOMENT Mahito accepts her and calls her mother. The moment Mahito understands that through the literal whirlwind of plasters, things used to tend to wounds, none of those pleasantries/guards will truly allow him to reach her. The way he tries to nurse his own wounds, as well as try to nurse hers, over the loss of their shared connection (Natsuko's older sister, Mahito's biological mother), will NEVER allow him to make a connection with her. By being careful, by being polite, he will never get to be her son.

And he realizes, in that moment, that he wants to.

The magic stone tries to stop this. The magic stone dislikes disruption; dislikes things changing, dislikes breaking traditions (the taboo of entering the delivery room). The parakeets in the tower flourish because they follow the magic stone's whims more or less. They agree to follow its rules, even if it means they are prone to its abuse, because it gives them an advantage, a place to stay. The pelicans have to eat the Warawara, because there is no other food available to them.

The way younger Kiriko says "you reek of death", and how they establish this place is mostly made up of death and dead people. Dead people, or dying people, creatures that are begging to survive another day. Creatures that are begging to be reborn. That want to change, that wish to fly once more.

My mother once gave me a poem dearest to her heart. We have always been a family filled with literature and stories, but my mother was always the best at both writing them and reciting them. She used to read them out to me, back when I was in a particularly bad spot mentally, to the point I could not get out of bed for weeks on end, to try and reach me. She read with the sincerest passion in her voice, a small plea to get me back to the girl I was before.

I cannot explain or remember the poem by heart, but once I was at my true rock bottom, she told me to look it up. A Serbian poem, written by Miroslav Antić (I will add the name of it later), that was about growing up and growing into your own person. It made me weep, for it had a phrase I think I can only translate to this:

"Run and don't look back."

Somehow, whenever I look at all of these birds and creatures in this fantasy world, trying to fly desperately, trying to get to the skies, trying to get to even live, and think about the fact that the only way they can is by leaving this place. That the only way they can fly and survive as themselves is by leaving this tower, this stone, this foundation. By leaving and being born, by leaving and being reborn.

And, after all of this. Somehow I'm not even done yet. I haven't talked about the great-great-uncle in depth, nor the king of the parakeets, nor the heron whatsoever. I have not yet even touched upon what I might think the magic stone is, and the sheer amount of like symbolism I picked apart in my brain because of my insanity.

I'm probably not the only one who noticed these things. But so far I haven't seen anyone actively share these things, so, I will do my best to continue and genuinely wrap it up as best as I can. So that this can also bring the same amount of closure as the movie does.

The magic stone is like a shooting star that came onto the earth. It realizes dreams and worlds of whoever dares to walk into it and claim to own it; like how Mahito's great-great-uncle got obsessed and built a tower around it, caging it, taming it. And yet he still had to play to its whims, consistently making sure his own tower of blocks did not fall, that all of his work did not amount to nothing. Personally, I do believe the great-great-uncle could represent Miyazaki himself. That Miyazaki is trying to express how he built Ghibli and that now it has been going on for so long, and it has become unmanageable to continue upholding it. That it is time to retire.

A thing I find interesting and remember pretty well is the conversation between the parakeet king and the great-great-uncle. How they talked about Mahito's transgression, breaking into the delivery room (side note: he broke in and broke through to Natsuko with his mother's spirit. Mahito became Natsuko's son with the blessing of his mother; with the sheer love she had for him being carried on and through), and how the great-great-uncle says something akin to this:

"It is why I wish for him [Mahito] to succeed me."

"I cannot overlook such a transgression."

I feel this is important. It is key to how the great-great-uncle views Mahito in this. Because Mahito was not sent out on this quest to find Natsuko out of pure selfishness. Sure, his uncle would have wanted him to succeed him, but the entire reason WHY he believed in Mahito to begin with, is the fact that this boy was able to break the foundation and the traditions in the first place. Mahito inherently disobeys from the chosen path. Mahito inherently does not believe the Heron when he says that all herons lie. Mahito doesn't waver when the heron flies straight at him, he doesn't sway when the frogs or the pelicans overwhelm him. Mahito stands firm in who he is, even if he is trying to deal with new circumstances. Mahito inherently goes to places he should not be in (his curiosity for the tower). Mahito has enough power on his own to create a new tower, but only by rebuilding it from scratch.

This ready acceptance that the great-great-uncle has towards Mahito's decision NOT to inherit his legacy, is what makes me believe this is what this movie is supposed to represent. Break away from the old, off into the new. Closure. Moving on.

This is also reflected in the sentiment that Mahito truly DOES move on. He goes back to his family, his father, school, he goes back with Natsuko as his mother and a new younger sibling to Tokyo. He returns there where he came from, but he is not the same anymore. He is reborn into a new Mahito.

And god I feel like I'm repeating myself to death here; I really should have thought about the structure of this, but give me some slack okay. It's like 6:30 am already and I'm still not done, despite continuously writing and labouring at this.

So, the tower that immediately falls apart by someone who always follows the whims of a dream (the parakeet king and the stone respectively). God it is just such a momentTM. Because in the end even this shows that the parakeets, too, even though they by far had it the best in that goddamn tower, had to leave. For they could not build something on their own without learning who they were outside of the already established. Outside of just following the rules and all.

They had to leave, my GODDDDD.

As I'm getting progressively more unhinged, we shall move onto the most unhinged character in this entire fucking movie. The Heron himself. God there's too much to unpack here, really, but the truth is, the Heron was supposed to be the guide to Mahito. The Heron was supposed to be Mahito's biggest, most aggressive enemy, the direct antagonist to Mahito's protagonist. The Heron doesn't want change. The Heron tries to bribe Mahito with the fact that his mother is still alive, that he need only enter the tower, and lose himself to illusions and dreams. That fantasizing about his mother being alive won't only drown him more, that it won't just let Mahito sink into the deepest pits of his despair and anguish about such a death, that losing yourself to the belief that something is there when it is not wouldn't only be counterproductive. The Heron masks himself consistently; he says that all herons lie. He says that he only has one weakness, his own feather, that allows the arrow to automatically target him. In essence, the Heron shot himself in the foot beak. He himself slipped up in his mirage world, and came out to be who he truly was, this weird little man with a huge nose and a conniving demeanour. He adamantly cannot disobey the dream, for then his true nature comes peaking out (a small detail I absolutely love is the fact that the Heron's feathers also disappear out of Mahito's hands when Mahito is called back to reality by the grannies. The grannies protect him in the dream world too, by being his tether and support system while he gets over himself and starts trusting Natsuko). The Heron doesn't WANT to be a guide, for in order to be a guide, you must tell the truth. You'd need to know some facts about the world around you and share this information with the ones seeking guidance. This is how I believe Mahito understood the Heron before we did.

It's not that all herons lie; it's just that this particular one does not want to face the truth/reality.

Another interesting detail: the whole reason why only Mahito was able to cover up the hole in the Heron's beak was reminiscent about how only those that called you out can really patch up your old image. Only those that have poked holes in your false narrative are able to fill them back up again, and even then it is not the same, and even then it will not always be comfortable/reliable.

Either way, the Heron, after this wings partially turn into hands, his true nature, is unable to fly all that well for a while. He relies on Mahito's corkscrew thing in order to relish in his comfort zone of lies again. But throughout the movie, the Heron slowly starts to ignore the corkscrew completely; simply opting to stay in his (frankly, freakish) half gremlin man half heron costume form. The Heron changes because Mahito inspired him to change. Even though his image used to be spotless before, and he tried to deceive Mahito, after a while, he stopped doing that. The mutual trust both Mahito and the Heron had grew. The Heron became a person, although his heron-ness would never go away.

The Heron thus warns Mahito that he should want to forget. That he will forget, either way. That this struggle of his to grapple with the reality of his situation, and the fantasy that he was delving into, will become a far-off memory that Mahito should not revisit. The Heron, I believe, is genuinely trying to look out for Mahito.

"Don't dwell in what you have already overcome. Don't revisit the things you have already outgrown."

And this is where the movie more or less ends. Mahito still keeps that stone, and his mother's book, and he goes back to Tokyo; the only crucial difference is that he has overcome his own grief.

Now, I've said this like a billion times now, but this is the rebirth. This is what I think this movie stands for. What it means, at its core. This is what it means to live; to move on and to cut ties with that what has no place in your life anymore. Miyazaki, I think, is trying to give us closure, a final farewell to Ghibli altogether.

Now I don't know about any speculation that he might come back again, and personally, I don't think it really matters. If he does come back, good for him. I just don't know enough to say anything for sure, so I'll just say I cannot say.

Either way, I think, even though Miyazaki conveyed the need for a new start/a rebirth, he didn't really end on the complete abolishment of all that used to be. You are allowed to keep mementos of it; even though the Heron advises not to. Mahito is allowed to reflect upon this experience, to see it as another stone in his foundation/formation, to say that, yes, the spirit of this change will always stay with me, although it has passed.

Just like how Mahito's mom was someone who returned to the past without regrets. She never came back. She was a spirit that pushed Mahito forward, and he will always remember her, but it's better that she stay a memory than become a fantasy.

This is why I'm so impressed by this movie in general. I'm so thankful that I was able to witness this with a friend of mine. I'm glad that I was able to see this, even though my insanity knows no bounds, and the fact that I didn't even think about any of this until I really sat down to look through the options of interpretations.

I'm so glad I got to go. Now it's time to run towards the future, and never look back.

[ilynpilled]

What I also find so compelling regarding the analysis of masculinity in the books and the inherent violence present in the construct of westerosi trad masculinity is how so many of the male characters overcompensate with violence. The sons that do not meet this fictive ideal of masculinity try so desperately to convey strength (Theon, Joff, even Tywin!!! but more bc his father does not meet that fictive ideal, and many more). In doing so, they just create more victims and perpetuate a horrid cycle. Like it is very much a deconstruction of chivalry and destructive and violent masculinity. It is really a construct that creates bombs that not only set themselves on fire, but damage everyone around them too. What I find so interesting about Jaime is that he is violent but for a very different reason. He is successfully violent, too, he does not have to overcompensate, he is powerful, brave and skilled or whatever. He actually fits the westerosi ideal of manhood in so many ways, so he has a very different issue. But to him, violence is such a psychologically complicated concept. It takes on such a dark and dissociative quality that is very interesting in the context of his ptsd:

I said this before, but he uses violence as a means of depersonalization, as by killing and destroying he transforms into some beast who operates on impulse. He loves the battle fever. Death is all around him but he can dance through it, laughing. It turns into an extension of his go away inside thing. If he is so powerful physically then he is untouchable and does not have to face the complex paradoxes and dilemmas that he cannot seem to overcome inside of his mind and heart: [ “Knots and tangles, Jaime thought, wishing he could cut through all of it with one swift stroke of his sword.” ] It is like he seeks out this destructive masculinity (violence, sex with Cers, embodying the chivalric knight) in order to achieve detachment, because the alternative, the state he is gonna be forced into after his maiming (losing the sword hand: a representation of that status, his strength, his knighthood, what makes him “whole”, his identity/persona), is the grueling and difficult navigation of the self. Once that happens, once he is literally stripped of all that, the literal and metaphorical ability to cut through problems and stay detached, he seems to progressively get further and further away from this kind of violence (link, link, and it is interesting how he also tries to recreate it, the phantom of it remains: link) Also, in many ways, there is a lot of subversive gender symbolism that starts happening. He starts playing the role of Brienne’s maiden: [“Ah, but which one is the knight and which one is the lady?” If I had my hand, (he doesnt and never will again lol) you’d learn that soon enough, Jaime thought. ] & [ Ser Galladon was a champion of such valor that the Maiden herself lost her heart to him. She gave him an enchanted sword as a token of her love. The Just Maid, it was called. ], as opposed to the Warrior to Cersei’s Maiden: [ I thought that I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid ]

[infoglitch]

OH BOY GLITCH GETS TALK ABOUT WR AGAIN FOR THE SECOND TIME?!

Yeah I'm back and I'm basically using this as an excuse to explain why i dont understand the appeal to WR (and yeah I'm digging myself a grave, I don't care because by the end of this I will be this fandom public enemy #1) so y'all can dismantle my half baked arguments just as a fyi.

This is not meant to attack WR shippers but I need to say this now as someone who firmly believes WR is ABSOLUTE ass.

First of all,

It's, fucking boring

"Oh but it adds more diversity and-" UHP! NO! Not hearing it.

Ok yes i know having more diversity in a series is always nice to have but there is no way in hell having a ship result in either one of both characters becoming cardboard cutouts of themselves os a good thing.

"oh your just a bigot who believes all ships should have men-" UHP! Once again! NONE of your bullshit. First of all fuck you if you actually thought that.

Second, no, if I was id still be celebrating the arkos kiss or just arkos in general, or I'd be writing fanfiction about how jaune and Ren are such "gigachads who get ALL the pussy because men are better and I am CLEARLY overcompensating for the fact I have a microdick". Which, if you looked on my garbage blog, has nothing of the sorts.

Now to the actual point, this is due to the fact there has been no hinting towards whiterose, no building towards, not even passing remarks about how close Weiss and ruby are getting. There has been nothing done for it so unless v10 is greenlit and rt decided to say "y'know what? For today let's make glitchs day shit" before making whiterose happen by pulling a bumblebee and backpedaling away from any ship they were pushing towards and instead constructing a half-assed, terribly written, and overall cluster fuck of a WR romance subplot before rt talks out of their ass and says it was planned when in truth it wasn't.

Next is.

Opposites attract sucks (when used generally)

Now look, lots of people LOVE this trope, it's campy, it's feel good, it's ushy-gushy and it's just disgustingly sweet.

I hate it.

It's overdone.

It's contrived.

And overall its the same bullshit.

Over and over and over again it's the same bullshit with no innovation and it gets boring real fast. By the end result I'm less glad their together and more glad this boring shit is done and not repeating itself.

The structure is clunky and overall is in hindsight, REALLY terrible at telling love stories, yeah it's "tried and true" but that doesn't mean it's good.

Finally for the last reason why I find it baffling why this ship has not been discarded and pissed is the same reason why I don't care for arkos aside from the fact it's boring.

There's no payoff, thus there's nothing worth investing in.

Every major point you could have happen is already done.

Weiss becoming personable?

Done.

Weiss realizing that she can depend on her team and not be a bitch to others because not everyone cares about her status or her name.

Done.

A metaphorically middle finger to weiss' father showing that he's just a push over and has no control over his family that he can use to harm them.

Already done oh yeah and if I am correct, he's dead. (I haven't kept up with the series, I stopped at V5 but I plan on watching the entire series)

Everything that could be done for the ship has already been done in the series and the only real appeal to it is the wholesomeness. And while yes it is probably adorable there's no real point in it anymore.

I'm not trying to be a smart ass or an asshole but this ship has no merit anymore and if it some how becomes cannon it's gonna be half-assed, poorly written and just awful to watch, do I need to remind you all of how bumblebee was handled?

Overall this ship has no merit to become cannon and overall there's no real substance in general for it. Atleast for me there isn't.

If you like it for the fluff, enjoy it for the fluff but there's no point in this becoming cannon. Unless-

Rt decides to once more, play this fandom like a kazoo and make wr cannon, to also make themselves look better, and to get people to ignore the horrible, homophobic, transphobic, ableist and out right "wtf" practices done in the company, oh yeah and to also please the people who fetishize lesbians because "haha, ladies kissing are hot".

Ok I think I've pissed off enough people for today so I'm just gonna go.

And once again, you allowed to like whiterose, don't let my opinion change it, and don't attack anyone because of their differing opinions, if you do that, YOU are contributing to the growing problem that lives in this fandom, which is "no one can take a fuckin opinion without getting crucifying that person".

Now rock on till ya drop tata mothafuckers 🤘

[house-of-slayterr]

So Chaos Ensues…

Hannibal Family part 5 I think, for @iloveslasher

Hannibal’s POV:

Several days had passed since I invited Newt to live with my family and I. They were polite, attentive, nearly the perfect guest. I could tell they were overcompensating, scared I would turn on my offer and kick them out. But I couldn’t do that, not to Peter at least. He was smitten but wouldn’t admit it to himself. Besides, if things turned sour there would be a more permanent way to deal with things. And that was something I was sure Peter would despise me for.

Newt didn’t talk to me much since that afternoon. They knew I was questioning their intentions, and they weren’t keen on letting me in just yet. So I respected their wishes, only observing from a far. Not forcing them into another session. But something would have to be done about their father, so I decided today was the day to pay him a visit. What kind of parents don’t even realise their child has been missing for several days now. I suppose Peter and her had gone off to school, per my request, so their was no suspicion on that end. But if this were Peter I were talking about, I would have noticed my nephews absence right away.

A chance meeting, that would be my best bet. Peter had mentioned Newt’s father was a hunter. Perhaps I could accompany Will on one of his trips. I couldn’t let him in on it just yet, working with the law he’d try to get Jack involved in this case. That could be messy. So I made up a story about my evening being free, and simply wanting to observe Will outside of my office. He hadn’t been sleeping much recently, and I told him this might be able to help me understand how to help him better.

I suggested a spot, close to where Newt’s house was. The conditions were good for hunting, he’d surly be out tonight. Of course I’m sure Will had his suspicions, but he trusted me as his therapist, as his supposed friend, to not involve him in anything that would put him in a compromising position. So naive that man was. It was almost endearing. As the house passed and I observed in silence, helping him watch for any sign of wildlife, a strange thought dawned on me. Newt’s demeanour was eerily similar to that of Will’s.

The main difference was Will never pretended to be sociable. But they were both equally gullible, pliable, oh so easy to break. They had good intentions, their hearts guarded, but their brains left more open then they wanted anyone to believe. They were both loyal, like one of Will’s dogs. They wouldn’t bite the hand that feeds them, mostly metaphorically in Newt’s case. It was interesting, I would have to introduce them. See if they picked up on these similarities on their own. Will was difficult to crack, more than I’d like to admit, but maybe with Newt’s help I could kill two birds with one stone.

That’s when I heard it, the subtle snap of a branch. Prey was nearby. Will took a deep breath, aiming his gun and setting his sights. To focused to hear the cock of another gun nearby.

“You’d get a better angle from over here.” I whispered softly.

I was right of course, he’d be able to kill the deer with one shot, if he caught it from the side, not risking it seeing him before he could pull the trigger. But Will couldn’t see where the other gunmen lay in wait, just out of sight. Without question he followed my advise, and with one last breath he shot. The bullet easily pierced the skull of the inspecting deer, it’s legs wobbling almost instantly. But my ears perked up when I heard a yelp, the bullet flying through the poor creature as planned, and embedding itself into the flesh of the disgusting one behind it. Will cocked his brow, instantly standing, his body language stuff and ridged. I feigned ignorance as usual.

“What was that?” He asked.

I gave him my best worried look, and we made our way over. Newt’s father revealed himself, cradling his hand. And I was Will stiffen even more.

“I didn’t see you, are you alright?” Will asked.

He was worried, not fully over the fact that he just shot someone. But more so that he could get in trouble. That I’d report this in his file to Jack as some sort of mentally unstable freak accident. But I gave him a reassuring look.

“Perhaps your camouflage worked to well.” I offered lamely.

The man rolled his eyes, offended.

“We weren’t aware there would be other hunters in the area tonight. Our apologises. May I offer to drive you to the hospital, that wound doesn’t look particularly nice.”

I hated having to be nice to him, even if it was simply a means to an end. Besides, I wanted to put Will’s panicked mind at ease. He was probably running through this scenario over and over in that chaotic head of his. Silly man, this was unavoidable.

“That’s the least you could do.” The man spat.

“Hannibal, and this is Will.”

“Lucian.”

“I’m really sorry.” Will tried.

The man shrugged, pushing himself to his feet with a slight wobble. He looked over at the dear.

“Clean shot. Can’t really be all that mad.” He said.

“You can have it.” Will offered quickly, trying his best to remedy his mistake.

It was admirable really. Lucian simply smirked.

“May I see your hand?”

He raised his brow at me, but Will spoke on my behalf.

“He has several medical degrees. We’re quite far out so you might need some first aid before we can get you to the hospital.”

“A Doctor?” Lucian question.

The term sounded offensive falling from his mouth.

“Should have guessed based on your odd clothing choice. Aren’t you worried your fancy suits gonna get all messy?” He jeered.

“Not at all. This isn’t my good suit.”

The man shrugged, allowing me to escort him to the car. Will hoped in the passenger seat and I offered to drive. Conveniently his house was along the way, so I dropped him off and told him I’d drop off his car later. I didn’t need him caught up in this more than he already was. He didn’t need to witness what was about to happen.

I sent Morgan a text asking him to make sure Newt and Peter were out of the house this afternoon. When he sent me a text back telling me the house was clear, I moved on with my plan. Newt’s father should have noticed by now we weren’t heading to the hospital. But before he had a chance to try anything, I smashed his face against the window, knocking him out. When I made it to the house I spotted Morgan waiting in the drive way.

“Good evening Hannibal.” He said, polite as always.

“Good evening.”

“Who’s in will truck? What are you up to?”

“All in due time Dear nephew, in the mean time I’ll need your help preparing the basement. This guy can not be allowed to leave, but I’m sure his meat is no good.”

“Of course uncle.”

“And at all costs, keep Newt out of the basement. Peter would be devastated if they discovered our secret.”

An: sorry this took so long and it’s kinda short. I’m in hospital right now so I’m very tired. So writing might be a bit sparce for the time being. But feel free to send requests, I’ll get to them eventually. Love y’all ❤️

[leakinghate]

Do you think there is any chance for lotura now, when we've just seen romantical teasing of Allurance that can be foreshadowing? (If it's so, showrunners go to hell)

Hello Anon,

Yes. I do believe there is still a very legitimate hope for Lotura to be endgame.

I was going to take some time to mull things over and plan before making a post. But, you took the time to ask, so here are my thoughts.

*ahem*

Lotura is Endgame, Y’all can Fight Me

In for a penny, in for a pound, eh?

I cannot promise you 100% that Lotura will happen, but there are two things I know, and that I can promise with reasonable asurridy. One, allurance is not going to be endgame. It may happen for a episode or two; but it’s not going to work out.

Two, Lotor will be returning, and as an eventual ally to boot.

Let's tackle our rival ship problem first.

Lance’s character arc has always been about him maturing to a point where he can believe in himself and grow some self confidence. He’s a classic case of a young man insecure about his place in the world overcompensating in an effort to make sure no one else notices it. He’s probably struggling with imposter syndrome, though I doubt he’d recognize it as that. The ironic thing, is that he’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t notice his team’s genuine appreciation of his talents and friendship. He’s the emotional support of the team, and possesses a genuine talent for leadership and calm headedness that even Keith is shown to struggle with. Despite flying the Red Lion now, he’s still obviously a Blue Paladin at heart.

The fandom’s perception that Lance hasn’t had an arc is because his arc is a long one, and it’s not going to pay off completely until near the end. Hunk’s arc was early, and his most dramatic developments took place in season one. Pidge’s arc happened in fits and starts, but was obvious and telegraphed from the beginning - it also focused on tangible goals rather than personal growth. Shiro and Keith’s arcs were intertwined, and formed much of the backbone of the show - when one wasn’t in focus the other was. Allura is the central character of Voltron, and her arc won’t be over until the show itself is - her arc is the plot of VLD itself.

Lance’s arc is slow, and has tackled small bits of his character development at a time. It’s always been about his self confidence, but it started from the outside-in. Beginning in season one with his jealousy of keith over the other’s physical abilities and natural talent in areas Lance wished to accomplish. Moving on through developing security in his value as a team member and place among the paladins. Finally, we have yet to tackle his emotional security.

Lance desires romantic attention. He thinks that he’s in love with Allura, but he really isn’t. He’s in love with the idea of her. Her beauty, her personality, her position, even her seeming unattainability - all things that attract Lance to her, but attraction does not a stable relationship make.

I’ve said it before, several times, so I’ll be brief. Lance and Allura’s life goals, positions, interests, and lifespans are not compatible. Lance wants to be with his family on Earth - a major component of his characterization is his family inclination and homesickness - he’s very young with no political experience and has shown no inclination to gaining any, he’s dismissive of and uninterested in Altean culture, and his human life expectancy is unlikely to exceed 100 years. By contrast, Allura is the last remaining Altean royal, and one of only two Alteans who remember what life on Altea was like. She’s going to want to be in space with the recently revealed still living survivors of her people. She’s the leader of the coalition and the owner of Voltron, she has countless populated planets to oversee and diplomatic negotiations to attend to. Her culture is precious to her, and she values it highly. And her lifespan is likely at least 1000+ years - Coran, a non-magical Altean, is at least 600 years old and appears to be only slightly older than a middle aged human equivalent.

And she’s only a few weeks, a month or two at most out from a very nasty breakup.

Allura is absolutely still in love with Lotor - you can’t just turn off loving someone like flipping a switch. It takes time - a lot of time in many cases, and it takes processing, and dealing with those emotions.

It may be, that Lance and Allura attempt a relationship for a few episodes, but it’s not going to work out.

As Lance is faced with the prospect/reality of getting what he thinks he wants, his character development in other areas is going to come to the fore. He’s going to be aware of and have to deal with the realities of having a relationship with the Altean Princess, and realize how very incompatible they actually are. There is a very good reason that Lance’s realization about his feelings towards Allura happened in the B-plot of s6e2, ‘Razor’s Edge’. The episode in which the A-plot revolved around the impossibility of a relationship between a human man and an alien woman. VLD likes it’s parallels, that wasn’t an accident.

He’s also going to realize that he deserves to be more than somebody’s second choice. Lance deserves more than being a rebound - and he knows that now, even if he hasn’t expressed it.

Because that’s what’s going on here.

Allura’s sudden apparent reciprocation of Lance’s feelings this season feels like a rebound because it is a rebound!

Allura felt very off this season, and that’s almost definitely because she's still really shook up over what happened with Lotor.

She's NOT okay, and that hasn't been dealt with.

It will be, next season. But she was in focus in a major way the last two seasons, so she had to take a back seat this one so she could get focus for the end. It's the same reason why Keith was in the background for several seasons before stepping back up in s6 and s7. And it's why Lotor was such a late addition to the cast. He's a huge plot mover in s3-6 (arc #2), and he will be again next season. So he was absent from 1-2 (arc #1), and again from 7 (the first half of arc #3). Same as why Haggar was absent this season, it's about balance.

I was majorly sketched out by the few little out-of-nowhere allurance moments.

But I think, that it's supposed to come across as odd, and uncomfortable, and abrupt.

Because I think it's ultimately leading up to Lance turning down Allura.

He's going to realize that she doesn't actually care about him romantically. She's hurt and lonely, and feeling like she failed her team for falling for Lotor. So she's overcompensating, and trying to force herself into liking Lance. Because he's there, and he likes her, he’s dependable and safe. So when she’s desperate to move on and salve the pain? She kinda feels like she owes it to him to give him a chance.

Allura has lost almost everything. Her people, her culture, her planet, her father - twice! Last season she lost the castle, after just barely snatching it from the metaphorical jaws of death she then has to voluntarily blow it up to save the universe. She lost Lotor - the person she’d fallen in love with, who she’d connected with and come to rely on - and she had to ‘kill’ him with her own ship.

Her people, that she only just learned weren’t entirely wiped out, have vanished without a trace before she even gets to see them.

By the end of season 7 she’s lost all that was left of her castle, her crown, and even the clothes on her back. She’s been stripped of her distinctive cultural clothing and garbed in the generic military uniform of an alien people.

It’s no coincidence that she didn’t begin ‘reciprocating’ Lance’s feelings until they arrived on Earth - where she was even more isolated without her lion and Voltron. She’s feeling so incredibly lonely and is looking for comfort and love anywhere she can find it.

It can’t work out though, for all the reasons we've already identified.

There was zero flirting this season, and other than the weird blush there was NOTHING.

Contrast that with the solid two seasons of beautiful and mutual Lotura buildup - even more, some would argue, if you consider Allura and Lotor’s clash in s3e3 ‘The Hunted’ as foreshadowing.

The biggest things for me. Is that nothing happened to prompt Allura to see Lance in a new light. We go from her irritation at him in e4, to neutral, average team members, to a sudden blush in e10, and lion-look-framing in e13.

And amidst it all Lance still managed to manipulate the situation to get himself alone with a pretty girl. It backfired on him pretty spectacularly when Romelle turned out to be far more rambunctious than he could handle, but that doesn’t change the fact that he chose the passenger arrangement. This is long after his apparent realization of ‘loving’ Allura, and pretty handily demonstrates that Lance isn’t really ready for a long-term commitment.

So are Lance and Allura being set up for endgame?

Nah. There's something else happening here.

Especially when it was twice emphasized this season how Allura got them into that mess by getting them close to Lotor. Nevermind that it wasn’t the team’s friendship and alliance with Lotor that fucked them over, but the Paladin’s betrayal of him.

But we're still waiting for the other shoe to drop there.

We haven't had the big emotional Allura moment that’s been alluded to, and we haven't had Keith still having a lesson yet to learn.

Referring back to VLD’s pattern for character prominence, we should expect Lance to fade out towards the second half of next season, since he had major POV framing in this season and the last one.

If what I think is going to happen actually happens, Lance should be dealing with his romantic issues at the start of next season to complete his arc. I’d imagine it will be in the first few episodes of season 8 that this will happen. This should line up with Lotor's return to the story, and thus trigger the 'cool story arc' we were promised with both of them.

This brings us to our next point: Lotor’s return.

We already have confirmation that Lotor is alive in the rift - Rhys, Coran’s VA, let that slip during an interview at SDCC. And if he’s alive, he’s going to be returning.

But as an ally? Maybe not at first, but eventually.

I found it interesting that Lotor was never once brought up this season in conversation with people who didn’t already know about him and about the Paladin’s fight with him.

Even when it would be logical to do so.

When briefing the Garrison. Sam Holt, who was exchanged with Lotor as a hostage and was present on the castle ship during the Kral Zera, specifies that Zarkon is dead but never mentions that Lotor is now - as far as he knows - ruling the main Empire force.

Lotor was an ally of Voltron when Sam returned to Earth. The biggest, most powerful ally they had. They were present on the castle at the same time, and even if they didn’t interact it’s impossible that Sam wouldn’t have been aware of Lotor’s existence and position as the new Galra Emperor.

Why not mention that Voltron had a huge swath of Zarkon’s former empire allied with them?

Because it would necessitate explaining the fallout when the paladins did eventually reach Earth. So? Why not do that? That’s two to three lines of dialogue, and would serve in-show to heighten the drama for our Earth based characters, who might have been hoping for aid from the other half of the empire.

Why specifically leave the position of Emperor in limbo? Why not have Sendak officially assume command?

There’s no reason in story to have things be that way.

So there must be a narrative reason.

The only thing I can think of?

Narratively speaking, they’re avoiding tarnishing Lotor’s reputation in the wider universe. The only people who know what happened in that fight? The paladins. And they left his throne unclaimed, so that he can take it on his return.

It’s the reputation thing that really cinches it for me. There is only so much time, only 13 episodes left in the series, and it would be nonsensical to waste a decent portion of it on doing damage control for Lotor when what’s ideal for the stability of the wider universe is to return to the way things stood at the beginning of season 6; with Lotor in control of the the Galra Empire, and the Coalition - and Voltron - allied with him.

At the beginning of season six the only outstanding major threats were Haggar and Sendak’s Fire of Purification, Haggar is obviously our final arc antagonist, and hey! Wouldn’t you know it? Guess who just just got offed? Sendak.

There is no damn reason to preserve Lotor’s standing with the coalition forces. Except if he’s to return as an ally. Especially when everybody should be asking for explanations of where they’ve been. But they don’t. For a reason.

So will Lotura be endgame?

I believe so.

They’ve said before that they crafted Lotor’s character to be someone Allura could relate to and find comfort in. They redesigned him, literally made him for her.

Every one of our characters in VLD has had to suffer terribly throughout the course of the show. So far though, Lotor and Allura are unique among focus characters in that their suffering has been without respite, recourse, or reward. They have both lost everything.

At the end of s7 Allura does not even own the clothes on her back, and it's doubtful that Lotor is even in control of his own mind anymore.

They literally have nothing left to lose.

They’ve been stripped bare of everything that has ever mattered to them.

So perhaps they can find peace, for themselves and others, by giving themselves to each other.

The love between an Altean Alchemist and the Galra Emperor started the war 10,000 years ago, it’s only fitting that love between another Altean Alchemist and Galra Emperor end it.

[krsonmar]

Ummmm this is perfect. This song (half that album, even) is perfect for this show.

That said, I could be misunderstanding how you mean the phrase ’code-switching’, but I read it more as actually a fawning response, believe it or not, with a little overcompensation blended in.

Let me explain that, because I mean ’overcompensation’ in the original sense, not the more colloquial sense we use it in now (ahem).

Analysis behind the cut!

’Extreme chameleon-like behavior’--being able to adapt to whatever anyone wants you to be as a people-pleasing survival skill--tends to be one possible reaction to surviving abuse early on in life. Which makes perfect sense for Ed. His father was this loud, threatening, dangerous, chaotic, harmful presence in his life, and in the scenes we see of his father in Ed’s childhood, Ed is having to shrink into the background--to make himself small and unnoticeable--because he’s powerless when his father hits his mother. He uses similar behaviors when Izzy is swordfighting/attacking Stede and when he has a panic attack about the Kraken: he shrinks into the background and makes himself smaller.

People often do this with their personalities as well, making themselves fit the mold of a given social situation to appease or be unthreatening to others, even if they don't want to actually appeal to those people. Ed can be an obnoxious fratboy when Calico Jack is around, a brilliant tactician and showman when that's what people need of Blackbeard, and a viciously violent terror if that's what Izzy demands of him to try to survive Stede's rejection.

We don't tend to think of a fawning response as causing a swaggering bravado or brashness and violence or a life-of-the-party kind of persona (although, I would argue the same thing is happening with Laszlo Cravensworth in What We Do In The Shadows. I won't start in on one of my favorite things to do on Tumblr--shrink Laszlo Cravensworth--but there's a good deal of overlap between the creative teams of the shows, so cross-pollination or recycling ideas makes a lot of sense here) but that's where the second part of this comes in: overcompensation.

Nowadays we almost always use the phrase to mean "hurr hurr So-and-So has a small penis" or they feel incompetent in some way that is probably sexual (there's a phenomenon in linguistics where a word with multiple meanings tends to degrade into the most prurient meaning being the dominant one, eg, how "mistress" is now mostly used to denote an illicit sexual partner rather than a woman who runs a household), but when Freud originally came up with the theory, he just meant it in the sense of someone working very hard to overcome a perception of their own powerlessness or inadequacy in some way by cultivating a response or a perception for others to consume that is the opposite of that "flawed" feeling.

Essentially, Ed's reacted to having been powerless and helpless against his father as a child by not only molding himself to whatever he needs to be in order to be safe, but also, whenever possible, being the center of every room he's in. No one mistakes Blackbeard for powerless--to the point that he gets sick of his reputation making things too easy for him--and even in his floral-breakup-robe-metaphorical-death phase, he's the dominant presence on the ship. Even his assumption of The Kraken persona can be seen as a blending of overcompensation and fawning: Stede rejected him, so he will make himself into something Stede would be repulsed by. The character is a really great study in the concept of personas and trauma responses...thus why he is babygirl and we all protecc!

Ed can be anything

[awkblkwmn]

Tuesday - February 12, 2019

To say that I have a tendency to pick the wrong type of men is an understatement.

But I would like to point out, for the record, that I've on more than one occasion been the wrong type of girl.

No, I don't mean that in the way of me not being good enough, or pretty enough, or smart enough - though those are definitely internal battles I have on more than one occasion.

I mean it in the "Who in the goddamn hell do I become when I decide I'm super-like with someone?!" way.

Why do I become this woman, this idiotic young girl, that for whatever reason feels the need to hover, and panic, and overthink, and despair, and panic, and get flustered, and overcompensate, and panic, and panic, and FUCKING panic!

I don't know what it means to wait for a man because its so ingrained in my soul and DNA that even the thought of such a thing is ancient and archaic and sexist and - fuck, just wrong.

But nevertheless, I pay for it every time.

WHY do I have to wait for them to make the first goddamn move?

I'm pretty - a solid 7 out of 10 on an average day and 9 on a day where I'm actively trying. I'm strong and confident (sometimes) and I'm I make good money with my exciting millennial job.

Why can't I just do the modern thing and give it a go myself?

I think in some cases, most cases, women are allowed to do this without the consequence of this setting the tone for the rest of their relationship.

But it seems I just don't have the ability to do that.

Let's take into fact that I'm 25+, really tall, black, and (slightly more than averagely) successful. Men are chickenshit and afraid to go after anything bigger than their pea-size shadow.

And I do mean that both physically and metaphorically.

Yet, I'm supposed to just sit here and wait ...and wait... and wait... and fucking goddamn mother fucking wait... for the mother-fuckers to get a clue and just make a damn move already.

How many times do I have to flip and twirl my freaking weave like an idiot school girl for you to catch the hell on???

There are not enough hours, enough minutes, enough seconds in the world for that...

So, why am I all "hot and bothered" in the least sexual way ever today, you might be asking?

Because apparently when it comes to the "men" I decided to zero-in on, they have a consistent habit of deciding to be like: "Hey Paiton - fuck you. You'll always be there. I'll get to you when I get to you."

And I'm just like LOL

It's fine.

Me. Little ole me is just so understanding and helpful and full of

"don't worry, we'll figure it out, it's okay,"

instead of:

"No it's not okay you FUCKING CHICKEN SHIT PUSSY EXCUSE OF A MAN!"

because that's not, that's never been the Paiton way. ... ... ...So maybe It's not - I'm not - exactly fine...

But here I am - venting aka typing aka writing this out of my system as best I can, so we must be going somewhere different than last featured program.

It's just...

Yes, I have daddy issues.

Which is fucking ridiculous because yes, my biological father and I have ...issues...but I have a Daddy (my step-father) who has and always has been there for me. It's not like I come from a family that doesn't love or care for me. If anything I'm a spoiled brat who's been doted on by my entire family for as long as I can remember...

But...

...I have to admit...

It hurts when you feel like your in one-sided predicaments when no one else gives a shit about your feelings except you, yourself, and - fuck, you again...

It hurts even more that I do it too myself.

Where in the hell are my self-confidence and dignity when I continuously throw myself at the feet of men - fuck that - boys who haven't done jack-shit to better me for me.

They don't even have decent sex on the table of things they could offer me.

All they have is this tangled string of desire tied to me, this draw...this outlier of a deep want I have for them to want me for one second as bad as I want them...

Physically. Mentally. Sexually. Fully.

I haven't decided if its a power thing or not.

But God, to I demoralize myself over and over again by pleading and breaking and bending and curving and aiming desperately to be where they are when they need me, who they want when they see me, and what they want when they call me.

It's probably the thing I hate most about myself in my life right now.

I wonder if it's biological.

Do women, due to there genetic make-up and institute after a certain age just drift into this mild mindset of almost desperate madness to be with someone who loves them?

Maybe it's because I've been single for so long, too long, but the slightest touch of skin-to-skin contact sends me reeling. Makes me jump in un-expectation and flush with anticipation of things that just don't happen in real life. Things that only happen in my dreams.

Things that only happen in my nightmares.

Being touched-starved is apparently a real thing and I never knew, never truly believed it myself, until a lover of a friend touched my waist in a playful joke and it felt like my soul, my entire being had set on fire.

It really is embarrassing how utterly single and alone I am, sometimes...

There's a part of me that wants to go out into the thirsty world and just FUCK someone. Rock their world. Give them something they wouldn't have imagined, been able to handle, something beyond there wildest dreams - because I know...I'm more than capable, in just one go

But, that's exactly why I hold back.

It isn't simply the sex, the hard fuck, the feeling of finally being alive and recked and full that I crave alone.

But the intimacy, the love, the freedom, the full worship and soul-bearing honesty of that wonderful sacred moment when two bodies connect and collide.

The teeth-clashing, the back-clawing, the silent whispers of adoration, the surprise giggles of giddiness, the sensual moans and whimpers of abandonment and trust and lust and love and...

...Yeaaaaah It's not just the sex I'm looking for, Too much of a sadistic romantic for that. Too much of a freak for that.

That side of me isn't just meant for anyone if anyone.

It's meant for the man I'll be riding, grinding hard into our bed night after night after night after night for the rest of our lives, for as long as God allows our time together.

So that when the morning comes and I look at him with pure eyes of love, innocence, uncertainty, hope, and un-afraid admiration - I don't have to worry about if he'll wrap me up with his arms when it's all over. Or if he'll kiss my forehead and tell me he loves me and he loved last night and he loves last night's "me" and he loves this morning's "me" because I'm a vulnerable freak that doesn't know how to not be trustful and love half-heartedly - because I only know how to love something or someone completely and with everything inside me.

And while all these thoughts run through my crazy mind a million miles a minute, and I grow more and more insecure as he looks at me he says:

"Good Morning love, how are you?"

I melt as any ridiculous, ugly, crazy thought I had about inadequacy fades away in an instant. . . . ... I wouldn't say I'm the "cheesy type" exactly.

But my God, what I wouldn't give for just a piece of that...  

P. FUCKING S.

Nick Miller (not his real name) sucks balls, he's a fucking phony, and I REFUSE to continue to let men like him treat me like a second choice. I don't give a fuck how NICE they are when they do it.

Its still fucking burns.

I'm still fucking hurt,

I'm still fucking scarred.

And I will NOT let people make me their second choice anymore.

Period.

- Payton Tulie

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON GALAXY’S MAIN DANCE WINTER…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 24 DEBUT AGE: 21 SKILL POINTS: 06 VOCAL | 13 DANCE | 00 RAP | 11 PERFORMANCE

INTERVIEW

true to his name, winter is as cold as ice. more stoic than stern, he holds about him an air of seriousness and enigmatic mystification that one might expect from a vampire from a tween romance novel rather than an idol. constellations are able to discern slight variations in his expressions –– he softens when speaking to fans, his furrowed brow smoothing out into friendliness and even concern; he actively fights back any sourness in his expression when speaking to seniors or people he respects ( the only thing that saves him from any attitude scandals, really ).

and when he’s on stage, a fire lights up in his eyes. when he dances, when he performs, that’s really when winter comes alive. motion is his preferred avenue of communication, telling stories with the way that his body moves. it’s more common to see the corner of winter’s lips move upward –– a smirk, seldom a smile –– during performances more than it is whenever he’s doing anything else. his laughter is rare, a gift bestowed by a blue moon.

winter doesn’t seem like he belongs in a boy group known for their youthful energy and exuberance. he’s bright, but in a binding way. he’s the kind of person who makes you wonder if you ought to be looking at him. regality and mystery to offset the more approachable members, one might suspect. he’s not quite the bad boy, not daring enough for that, but he is the brooding, quiet one that girls always seem to fall for. he’s not haughty enough to be an ice prince, though that doesn’t stop his fan sites from adopting ice-themed names. they aren’t quite wrong –– they are, after all, meant to capture moments when he “ thaws. ”

truthfully, winter owes his entire existence to xuedong’s anxiety. the sheltered son of cinema royalty’s ineptitude at socializing understandably hinders the conception of a friendlier persona. it’s easier for him to appear detached more than the talkative type, and xuedong prefers it that way. there’s a reason he’s never on variety. and while he feels terrible about seemingly pushing off those duties to his other members, he feels he more than makes up for it by making sure that everyone’s in sync.

where the ice prince seems to be lacking, the main dancer overcompensates. there’s not much else xuedong has to offer.

BIOGRAPHY

   december 1993.

lau suo makes headlines with her swollen belly as she announces the golden globe nominees for the 1995 award ceremony. everyone wonders who the father is, what sex the child is, who the little fetus will become once it enters the world and becomes a person. when she announces her engagement to bai ming two months later, china erupts into applause. the daughter of an auteur, a capable actress and budding director in her own right, and the nation’s heartthrob make a beautiful couple. they will have a beautiful baby.

   june 1994.

the beautiful baby is born. the public knows he is a boy. that is all.

   june 1999.

xuedong asks if he’s going to be able to go to school. his mother, stroking his hair, says no. his father watches on, brow marred with concern. but he does nothing to stop his wife as she ( metaphorically, thankfully ) locks their son in his gilded, ivory tower. the boy’s fifth birthday party is attended by his parents, his nanny, two cousins, and the chef that baked his three-tier birthday cake.

   november 2002.

as they continue to pay paparazzi to keep images of him the few time he leaves the house from leaking, xuedong continues to be nothing but a nameless mention in his parents’ wikipedia pages. it should be a good thing. such a famous mother and father should gain him some level of notoriety, the world watching with bated breath to see if he’ll take after his parents or if he’ll crash and burn like many a child star. xuedong never gets the chance.

( september 1997. xuedong cameos in his mother’s drama, the lowest-rated one in her career. he played her husband’s illegitimate son, a bit role where all he had to do was tug on an actor’s pants and call him father. unlike most of his family, he was not a natural at it. his mother took one look at his befuddlement in between takes and decided that he would never act again. she asked him later on if he enjoyed the experience and he told her “ no, ” but she wasn’t going to put him in front of a camera ever again anyway.

the drama was never broadcast outside of hunan. it still sits at a 4.1/10. )

or, at least, that’s what his mother would want.

his father is her complete opposite.

bai ming is overjoyed when his son asks him about dance. the boy is almost worryingly quiet, so any vocalization is given the utmost attention. though stained lightly by the thought that dance does not require xuedong to become more loquacious than he already is, ming is eager to have his son do something other than get coddled by his mother. without consulting his wife, he signs xuedong up for lessons from one of the best dance instructors in the country. he’s on the fast track to the beijing dance academy.

for an eight year-old, he shows remarkable growth.

just as remarkable as his mother’s fury when she finds out her precious baby has left the nest.

   august 2007.

xuedong’s mother has given up on trying to stop him.

“ fine, if you think you know best, then do whatever you want. ”

“ he’s thirteen years old , ” his father argues. “ of course he doesn’t know best –– but he’s following his dreams, and i don’t want any son of mine to be held back from that because of his paranoid mother ! ”

“ you didn’t want him at all ! ”

the silence that follows is deafening.

xuedong always suspected it. to have his hypothesis confirmed was something he was unprepared for.

he moves into the trainee dorms of a moderately-famous entertainment company in beijing after two half-hearted hugs, one of which seems to drag on forever. he doesn’t make ripples with his entrance; somewhere along the line, it’s become an established rule not to ask the quiet boy named xuedong about his family. the kicked puppy look is enough to make anyone feel bad.

it’s perfectly fine to acknowledge his talent, though. his voice hasn’t cracked yet ( not that anyone hears much of it anyway ), but the skill with which he dances is undeniable. some prodding has the boy admit that he focused on ballet when he was younger but began to transition into modern dance, a blend of different styles to create pure art out of movement rather than old techniques recycled in various formations. his smile when someone says that he’s amazing lights up a room. and thus, people warm up to him. he makes friends for the first time in his life.

xuedong wonders if they’ll be the first people to love him.

   may 2009.

the kiss is too much. a boy ten months and sixteen days younger than him takes xuedong by the shoulders and presses their lips together. he tastes like the cherry chapstick xuedong saw him putting on earlier. was that in preparation for their kiss ? xuedong never finds out, running out the door before the other boy can say anything. he might’ve blurted something out during his great escape. he doesn’t remember it.

it hasn’t even been two years since he left home, but so much has changed. he’s changed.

round cheeks have since begun to sharpen, puberty turning boyishness into chiseled features. getting used to growing limbs was a challenge in and of itself, to say nothing of the acclimation to living with other people. xuedong was kind and considerate enough to not make much of a fuss, though that didn’t change the fact that a boy who lived mostly in isolation for the first ten years of his life was understandably flabbergasted by the notion of cohabitation. it took some work, but his roommates were patient with him and he was willing to learn.

xuedong started to come out of his shell more. when he danced didn’t count; it was almost like xuedong retreated into some sort of subspace and the embodiment of performance took over his body. his peers already knew that he was good, and if he wasn’t absolutely fantastic, then he had more than enough charisma and stage presence to make up for it. and beyond that, he was starting to make friends. he went out of his way to take meals (few and far between) with others, becoming close to several trainees in particular.

he might’ve accidentally fallen in love with one along the way.

if he believed that people could love him in return, it would’ve worked out all perfectly, because this trainee happened to be the one that kissed him a day before his birthday.

but xuedong didn’t, and he returned to the place that taught him that no one loved him in the first place, promises of debut forgotten and lost to the wind. how could he think about that anyway, when the proposed group was a duo with the boy who caused him to run away to begin with ?

it isn’t all one boy’s fault. it just ended up being too much. a kiss that pushed him over the edge.

it started with mounting pressure from his dance teacher after a twisted ankle, berating him for failing when he was so close to perfection. for being unable to keep up the momentum that propelled him to the top of the bunch in the first place. then the radio silence from his mother, who threw herself into her work and whose acceptance speeches, once thanking her “ gift from god ” for almost a decade now simply citing her “ supportive family, ” nudged him farther along. someone figuring out who his parents were, managing to put together that his last name is bai and that his hometown is changsha and his reluctance to speak on his home life, was almost the straw that broke the camel’s back. accusations of nepotism were thrown carelessly, and while his closest friends stuck by his side, the mere whispers of his lineage were enough to have people distancing themselves from him. his injury, though relatively minor, and his abysmal recovery did not help matters. add to that a direct challenge to his long-held belief that he was likable but unlovable, and now xuedong doesn’t know what to do.

xuedong sometimes wonders if the kiss was meant to serve as reassurance. “ i’m still here. i still care. ” ( likely just wishful thinking. )

if it was, it didn’t work. if anything, it backfired.

and it sent him all the way back to changsha, back into the ‘ safety ’ he always hated.

at least his mother has the grace not to tell him “ i told you so. ”

    july 2010.

bai ming did not raise a quitter.

he did not raise anything at all, but that’s a dark thought that xuedong would like to avoid entirely.

still, for all his gung-ho attitude towards his son reaching for the stars, he’s a little surprised when the boy says he wants to go to korea. to his credit, the man listens to the entire memorized speech about how msg is the company for him, that the one he joined when he went to beijing wasn’t quite the right fit and that he felt as though they were squandering his talent.

xuedong does not talk about the fact that his old crush debuted as a soloist a year ago, and that xuedong was supposed to be right there with him. that they were supposed to be a pair. two sides of a coin, two halves of a whole. they’re separate singularities now. and xuedong is not escaping him by running to korea. that’s only about a third of the reason why he wants to leave the country to pursue his passions elsewhere.

if he really wanted, he could just return to dancing. but he had a taste of the forbidden fruit. he has a decent voice, according to his old vocal trainer. if he practiced, he could actually be a good singer. and yes, he hasn’t done anything in the last year, but he’s taken the right amount of time to psyche himself up. he’s ready to get back in the ring now. he wants to be an idol, not a dancer.

he’s already started self-studying korean. the internet is a wonderful place.

his father either sees his point or does not care enough to argue. xuedong chooses to believe it’s the former. the only question he asks is “ did you tell your mother ? ” it is a question he should already know the answer to. and the sigh that bai ming releases signifies that he does.

xuedong takes the first flight to incheon, head raised high. it’s a new beginning for him.

   november 2014.

that newfound confidence didn’t last long. though he was sufficient at communicating ( or, at least, formulating sentences in his head ), it seemed like extended periods of isolation were, in fact, detrimental to one’s social capability. he found himself in the same place he was when he was thirteen years old, young and afraid of the world around him, but ready to take it on.

back home, he was a trainee for about seventeen months before they told him that they were planning his debut. he had some reservations, young as he was, but there was the promise of stardom nevertheless. two months after he left, a soloist debuted from his company at age fourteen. xuedong still remembers the choreography –– initially created for two people –– to this day.

it’s been four years since he joined msg, over twice as long as his training period in china, and there has been no word of anything remotely similar to a promotion. dancing, ever his forte, came back to him gradually. talent went recognized. vocal lessons worked in, peppered with light praise –– a little generic, though he appreciated it nevertheless. and then … nothing. he supposes that’s the way it’s supposed to be. everyone around him works hard, but only a select few make the cut into becoming actual stars. he’s heard rumors of there being a boy group in the works, but he’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t think he’s in the running at all.

which, of course, makes the delivery –– pulling him aside while he practices for his next evaluation, catching him mid-pirouette –– all the sweeter.

it’s finally come. his chance.

yet, for some reason, he can’t muster the same enthusiasm that he had way back in february of 2009.

( it probably has something to do with his past catching up to him. or, as it were, having caught up to him last year. )

maybe it’s prudence. maybe it’s fear.

   may 21, 2015.

he should feel something. it’s been a month since debut. already people are talking about how mesmerizing he is. and how pretty, though that’s nothing new. winter is a cool stage name. a little funny for a boy born in june, though the incongruity and contradiction is what apparently serves as his charm. a boy that handsome should smile more, some say.

he agrees.

there should be something akin to joy. he’s waiting for it to kick in.

it should be soon, he hopes. luckily, xuedong is very good at being patient.

   december 2016.

galaxy has five comebacks under their belt. he’s somewhat unhappy with the type of music they’ve put out, though he has no right to be, because he was informed beforehand of their concept and should’ve long accepted that they weren’t going to go the mature route he felt he embodied best. yet while xuedong cannot say that he’s satisfied with the music he’s put his name to ( as few lines as he has anyway ), he’s rather pleased with the choreography instead.

it isn’t quite the joy he was looking for, but it’s an approximation. ‘ very nice, ’ as exhausting as it is, is his favorite –– contested only by ‘ clap. ’ if he can’t focus on the disappointment he’s foisted upon himself for not becoming an immediate success, then he can at least throw himself wholeheartedly into the work placed before him.

perhaps he thought too highly of himself. rome wasn’t built in a day, so xuedong shouldn’t have expected galaxy to become superstars within the span of a year. they were still lacking in many ways, mostly in areas that xuedong couldn’t control, and thus he should also not be so hard on himself. he did the best he could. he worked himself and the other boys to the bone making sure that they were perfect ( or as close to perfect as they could be ) in every performance. things like concepts and genres were out of his hands. it’s a strange thing to take comfort in. in fact, he knows many others would chafe under that sort of control. but the way xuedong sees it, he’s not to blame for galaxy’s failure and lack of growth, and that’s enough for him.

it’s not his fault, so he can’t reasonably be hated more than he already is.

( or, rather, more hated than he thinks he is. )

   may 2017.

“ happy second anniversary. i think i actually heard your voice in highlight. ” xuedong supposes it’s meant to be a joke, though his father’s never been much of a comedian. most of bai ming’s career has been him sitting around and looking pretty. now that he’s reached middle age, though, he’s been taking more passion projects. he hasn’t won an award yet, but xuedong agrees with the public’s general consensus that his father deserves at least something for pretending to crawl into a bull carcass after being nearly mauled by snow leopard. “ i guess you’re doing pretty well. ”

not as well as he would like, if xuedong’s being extremely honest, but he isn’t. instead, he smiles at his father and ducks his head gratefully. “ thank you. i read that grazia interview you did. i can’t wait for your new film to come out. ” he shouldn’t sound this detached, not from his own father. this is the first time they’ve actually been able to do anything beyond a quick fifteen minute call in months, and thus he’s made sure to chase out his roommates so that he could facetime his father in peace.

reminding himself of the overwhelming gap between himself and the people who gave him life is an appreciated respite from reminding himself of the overwhelming gap between galaxy and cherry bomb ! and honey. galaxy seems to have fallen into middle child syndrome, which xuedong can’t say that he laments not experiencing as an only child. though it’s been two years since his debut, he can’t tell if the mystery shtick is working for him or not. he’s tried to be more talkative but only in instances where he can rehearse what he wants to say in his head a thousand times before opening his mouth, which means that he’s still relatively quiet in comparison to the other members.

he’s glad that his role as main dancer is appreciated –– he wonders if his sharpness during practice scares the other boys, though he’s sure they also bask in the praise of their strong performances, courtesy of xuedong’s diligence in making sure that no member gets left behind –– he’s just a little disheartened that people don’t ask him to speak up more. do they recognize that he’s shy ? or do they think his speech ( overly formal and superfluously sophisticated, he’s seen some constellations call it ) too cringeworthy to listen to ? either way, it makes him feel a little unwanted.

and objectified, because he still sees those comments about his abs and his thighs. they seem to be the only parts of him worth caring about for people who chose other members as their bias.

( he treasures the ones that call him a sweetheart, that are filled with crying emoticons when they ramble about how softly he held their hands and the deep attentiveness with which he pays attention to fans. those ones make everything else worth it. )

this is what he signed up for though, he supposes, so he bears it. this is what he chose. all because he loves being on stage. he still does. when he walks off, covered in sweat and pressing a towel to his forehead and neck, however, it seems like the world comes crashing back down on him.

“ you should come back home when you have the time, ” his father says. “ your mother misses you very much. ”

xuedong blinks. “ and what about you ? ”

his father looks a little taken aback. sheepish.

that’s all the response he needs. xuedong will continue to stay here in seoul, where he is wanted. for his skill if not his body. for his dedication if not his introversion.

   june 2018.

to his surprise, he actually likes ‘ thanks ’ quite a bit. xuedong thinks it might be the slower tempo. although the choreography is nowhere as difficult as some of the others that they’ve had to learn over the three years they’ve been active, he finds that the song is … more his style. he resonates with it lyrically more than any of their other music even if it is still blatantly romantic. it’s just more wistful, he supposes, a little more bittersweet, which is one out of many words he could use to describe his own love life ( like pitiful or miserable or barren ). either way, he hasn’t been this excited to return to promotions.

xuedong doesn’t think that he’s grown tired of his work, per se, but it’s definitely lost some of its lustre. the glamorous lifestyle he was deprived of first by his mother has become an ugly reality to him now. he’s not living the high life he was expecting. where he might’ve spiraled downward due to negative influences had he been the child star so many expected him to be, he’s still remained something of a nonentity to this day. he’s not sure where he stands, not sure of who he is beyond what people have carved out for him.

is he really as cold and standoffish as some make him out to be ? he could be closer to his members, sure, but he likes to think that they’re friends. is he really quiet because he has something to hide ? it’s become common knowledge who his parents are, considering that search engines are free and he takes after his father more and more with each passing year. other than his parentage, though, he can’t think of any secrets he’s ever had –– except for his affinity for cherry chapstick. what does xuedong think of himself ? he has no answer to that question.

according to his enjoyment of ‘ thanks, ’ he’s a romantic. he isn’t some sort of dance machine, programmed only to perform and soak up difficult routines like a sponge. he supposes he’s not a cynic, either. but those three things are as far as he gets with descriptors before he starts drawing up a blank.

oh –– he forgot hope.

he hopes that future will allow him to draw out more truths from himself. another comeback, another revelation. it must be a little sad that he’s so inextricably tied to his work that it takes music releases for him to discover things about himself, but he can’t think of any other way. xuedong never really stopped looking forward to the future; now, though, it’s no longer through a lens of ambivalence.