#it really does boggle my mind how people are so willing to treat other people terribly just because they were born female and not male

[gffa]

I know this has been talked about many times before, but I still don't know what we are supposed to think of Padmé's actions when she comforts Anakin after he confesses to murder in cold blood. He feels guilty and all, but he continues his shitty behavior even before he became Darth Vader, and then does it again. It's just hard for me to see Padmé as some sort of saint in that scene. And are we even supposed to see it that way anyway? There's no official answer, which makes it all the more mind boggling to me. When people say she forgave and did the right thing, it's seems unjustified because he still did it, he regretted it, but he also said "I hate them". Idk I'm sorry if this is too long. I just have a lot of thoughts on this scene.

Hi! For me, I've settled into a balance between "there's no hard narrative intention here, so I just have to let it go" and "here's my best guess at a look into what little has been said about her" and "here's what makes sense to me as someone speculating about her character on my own". I think it comes down to two things: 1) Natalie Portman's comment about how Padme thinks she can save Anakin as a motivation for her character and 2) that as complicated as it can be in some ways, the Tuskens were written in an extremely racist way, especially in that their deaths do not register with Lucas the same way other races/cultures would. Which means that while this should be a point-of-no-return moment for Anakin's character, while it should be recognize that he's murdering children here (and I do think that's meant to have weight, that the dialogue specifies he knows he's killing innocent lives), I don't think the narrative fully does so, and instead treats it as his "first step" onto the path of darkness, one that he can come back from. And I do think a lot of that comes from Lucas, much as I applaud him for being progressive in other ways and genuinely seems like someone who was trying to do better, does portray real world elements in a racist way in the movie, they're treated as less than human here. (I will say that Padme also is willing to take Anakin back even after he murders the Jedi younglings, so there's a little wiggle room here, in the way she reacts, but the racism is pretty undeniable and a big motivation here.) But because the narrative and the author don't treat his murder of the Tuskens as a point of no return, Padme can't treat his murder of them as a point of no return, so instead her reactions are based on the idea that, yes, this was bad, but it was something that still left good in him and she's trying to reach out to that good, she's trying to save him. As much fun as it is to examine these characters from a more realistic lens, so much of Star Wars makes a lot more sense when you consider what Lucas was going for on a thematic level--in a lot of ways, Padme isn't written for herself, she's written as a baromter of where Anakin is at. When she comforts him, it's because we're meant to see Anakin in a place of emotional turmoil. When she backs away from him on Mustafar, we're meant to see him as having crossed a line, unwilling to come back. When she says, "There's still good in him." on Polis Massa, we're meant to understand there's a glimmer of hope for the far-off future. I don't think it's really about Padme's character at all, I think she's written--as SO MANY of the elements of Star Wars are--to be an extension of Anakin's character, because the story of Star Wars is the story of Anakin Skywalker. I love love love some of the excellent meta that examines these scenes through the lens of what Padme is thinking and feeling and what her character arc is about. And I may be being uncharitable to the writing for her, but it's largely where I've settled just so I can stop itching over it. For me, I don't think Padme was "right" or "wrong" on Tatooine, I don't think we're meant to see Padme as any kind of saint. I think she's balanced between "Padme thinks she can save Anakin, but ultimately she cannot, Anakin has to be the one to choose to come back himself" and "Padme is basically a symbolic dark side meter, as so many of the characters in SW are symbolic of various aspects of Anakin".

[sweetofsin]

it's not like a big deal or anything but it kind of mind boggles me that people have the ability to just jump into romantic relationships or ask people out after a mere few days or weeks. like, the amount of queer stories i read where people meet people on apps or through other events and they're like, "well we hit it off really well and i asked them to be my girlfriend five days later! we've been together ever since 🥰"

and like, here's the thing. i am completely aware that context and other things are important. unhealthy romantic partnerships are pretty common and normal. a lot of codependency and just lack of boundaries is glorified within a lot of relationships, including queer ones. so i'm not saying that people who are able to do this, it means that these relationships are automatically healthy or that the relationship in itself is something that i strive for. for some people, it's this easy to get into relationships because they literally don't know what it's like to be alone. or they don't mind using people for voids or distractions from their life. and for others, it simply was just a beautiful alignment that happened and that's all there is to it

i think personally i am envious of the aspect that someone could just jump into a commitment without deciding to wait months beforehand. everyone is different. but i am envious of the experience of what it's like to just... meet someone and you're instantly attracted and super giddy and then boom, a week later you're together and already willing to commit. like!!!! what!!!!! how!!!!!

i just can't imagine being in a position where i'm not constantly questioning, "am i attracted to this person? why do i like this person? and if i do like them, is it worth it to pursue them? what are their beliefs/values? how do they act when they're upset or sad? how do they treat the other people in their life? how do i know if they only like me for me, or if it's for what i provide or do for them? etc?"

how do people just trust to take that leap of faith and choose to get to know the person while they're in a relationship instead of beforehand? to just trust that someone you met a mere week ago isn't going to cause massive harm to you, when they've only been in your world for like... 7 days? where does that faith come from? what type of heart does that require? what type of thinking does it take to just hope and pray that things work out with a total stranger? what type of willpower does it take to not flinch or recoil at sudden unexpectedness of a touch? what neurons are instilled to put your heart into someone's hands and pray they won't pop a vessel?

[cosmicangel888]

New Shifts When Love is Not the Focus

One either practices, nourishes, and brings the 'en-joyment' to being love, exploring love, seeking love in all of its places, things, people, beings, or not;

There really is not in between.

When you think about the inner realm, there is either the seeking, never giving up on love, knowing of the higher love, the always expanded love, the miracles of love, the maker of love of all grander worlds and essences of all creation -

You should never ever ever have to fight, be in defence, constantly living in lack of everything to simply gain 'bare minimum' to existing; and there are billions of people that have become so normalized to this; and not only is there very little, in most 3rd world countries, that the rest of the world has turned a blind eye to, however in Canada, from my experience, never thought I would experience the bullying to life and bringing such higher vibrational wisdoms, intelligences, healings, and good will from the Heavens, only to be treated like a constant outcast.

For those that control the money, want the money, want the importance of others seeing them as such, when you disrupt and see the core darkness to their riches, would upset the sick apple cart; and so too constantly being put into testing, into the ring, when all you simply want is to kindly walk the world and heal, teach.

When will love, unity, peace, health, balance be the most important vibration for all life

As I stated last week; have your false and so called rich world, to the vacant within - how would your world and hospitals, and schools, and big banks look that hold your ever so precious money, when your bodies are sick with darkness and disease, and those caring for you are sick with dark weeds and threads pouring from their mouth as they go to kiss the life out of you one more time?

Demonic attachments that bring the worst of all that is unconceivable - they want you to fight to remain in abuse.

The abuse of being disregarded in every way, while they defile you and degrade you, bully and send more tactics of how to break you and then they go to the innocent around them to bring others into their dark web of lies, schemes, scams; all to ensure that the 1 light worker doesn't have a receiving; that she has been rightfully due for over 100 lifetimes;

The arrogance and sheer ignorance to all intelligence of all creation to treat the heavenly offering of such is beyond mind-boggling and rather than bring greatest to a collective in need, through honouring and respectful collaboration - the abuse continued and schemes and games for the audacity of never the ones doing the harm, doing the damage, doing the stealing, never wanting to account for their deeds; just wanting to keep walking deadly to bring others into walking robotic gamers to get money, get stuff, get things, and be fake ass important;

At and how oft will one bring truth, simplicity and honour forth, that is pure of love, to show, to offer, to heal, to bring light, and such is simply so corrupt, in a very wealthy country, treat heavenly greatest with daftness of 'religious' false importance that only cares for power and money - who does that? how is that a way of life to treasure?

I don't understand - it is literally mind-boggling how people treat people - to put an innocent person through the most horrific testing, spell work and schemes of torture - to see if they are who they say they are, if they are willing to fight for you-

Some of us are brought here for the gift that we are for the gift that Gaia, the earth humanity is - the systems, the imprints of degrading DF, anyone that is not the old ways; old programming - the consciousnesses leaders, old churches, and stagnant ignorance - simply will do anything but change - to know of a woman that is of the likes of masters, of healers, of divinity -

How is God only male? How ignorant - God is all - all nature, all life and breath that is now -

The most ignorant and arrogant distorted ego-ic masculine to think this is a thing; the immaturity of expecting, the enslavement mentality and abhorrent disgust to think; old paradigms, old programs, narcistic leaders and cult like mentality dark group think that corrupt communities and reality - tower moments are not necessary - sacrifice is not necessary - no more space for tolerance to the ignorant that target humanity of its loving ache for healing and evolution and unity.

'I can treat you however I want, and you will bow and return to me; then I will, with my gang, with my church and elite false authority of friends and family that are also deranged, buy in to all take my side of the story and leave you little with nothing - how shall you not bow and fight for me';

Any person, church, family, and any cult, group, doesn't matter what delusion name and religion you call to hide behind; basic human care and kindness is a thing and there is no God that would ever be 'ok' at what was done to me, over and over and over and then the laughing at humanities expense;

Everyone carries on as if there is nothing wrong for none want to deal with the level of disconnect - every issues within humanity, every disease, every illness and every crime, all corruption is due to disconnection of spirit within - period.

All is healable - and there have been groups, beings, entities, not wanting the truth, the innocent, and do everything possible to die off what is meant in our evolutionary story - taking ourselves out of 1000's of years of corrupt religious control, dominance of ignorance that has nothing to do with the Creator, Source, God; and those will hide behind such sick selfish corruption and keep those doing the work, those healing the planet, healing the collective, are left in poverty, left out, constantly fighting to receive nothing - be seen as fucking slaves to the abhorrent and ignorant -

Someone has to say it - look at the systems - look at those that beg for you to bow before them and worship nothing but wealth and title, and followers - dark magic to get their buy-in and grow corruption -

What are you ready to release -

Are you ready to release the notion that you do not need a government but only a light council of oneness that is in operation of sovereignty - a group and council that do not hide the obvious, that do not live in the top enchalante while the rest live as slaves to system that are breaking due to its corruption - this is portending -

You see this, yet none, the one the powerful in light, the powerful in the heart will be this - who are you loyal to and why? What are you willing to release - the stuff, the fancy stuff - to live in purity of knowing you are not working for corrupt companies that respect none in the 'company' or group - who are you? Are you redesigning earth - you will only receive respect if you have money and that is importance?

As I stated with pure truth; what is money when you are spiritually empty and void of any connection to anything - money has no rank in the spiritual realm and the soul the evolution of the soul is everything - and yet the fitting into such devaluing ways of 'life' is not 'life' at all - what are you loyal to?

The richness of love bar none is why you here and the light workers, the sacred ones, brought here in the joy of Gods wish, prayers, was 'not to be a joke of the collective' - we were here to held high and to be honoured as love is; However we have been stolen, raped, laughed and bullied into sadness and most did not make it this far - my teams brought me back to life 4 times; why was this necessary - it is disheartening to see God treated, the innocent treated and life, earth pure honour treated this way -

You pray for all things, stuff, and glory - yet your hearts and spirits, those that choose to live in disconnection of the soul, spirit, self, do nothing but sit and be controlled, be loyal to what and who pays for your home and would you rather not be homeless than to bow to such corruption - never fight for the bare minimum by any; never allow any to make you feel as if love is not the most important -

Nobody wants to look at it until it all breaks - then they call the genius ones, the ones bringing light for their dark minds cannot fix the dark science labs, the unnecessary military scenes of false power, and billions of dollars on military while children go hungry and sold for sex; the governments that pay zero attention to consciousness, energy, and connection or unity and oneness and stifle the people with archaic unnecessary limited schooling systems, and zombie like mentality to follow and to be lead by the ones that are the top 1% yet care nothing for the women and children that will be their next world they incarnate into - none escape the ignorance one chooses -

What you have chosen to be 'ok' with is what you manifest - you are your governments, and the deceit that you seem to be ok - without calling it - when you see, discern such, call it - do not be the only one to carry the light for an entire collective that did nothing but bully and steal from you and left you for dead;

See how far your reality goes without love; the sick and ill within - sick torturous sick minds, bodies, souls; and so be will the sinking in it -

What true communities and beliefs are you building in your community dear ones? -

Any and all levels of any business, social offering, who and what are you? What level of corruption will you call judgment on and be a part of healing, correction, being more? - Will you call it - Will you discern what is right, kind, good will to the all - or betterment for just you and those that hide in deceit and schmeing of dark magic, dark arts, and harm to aid their programs of control, fear-intimidations, and thievery? All get to choose and your soul will have to transmute - none escape such;

- there are many that talk the talk - but are simply have no vibration of care - and what goes on behind the doors will shock you - there is a lot of healing that is needed -

Every person is responsible for their own healing and if you go through your day without focus on your healing - your own vibration - you are affecting the collective - and should be the only focus at this stage of the game -

Consciousness and energy is everything - ignorance to this shall be equal and thus, no longer going to be a vibrational match to the accelerating earth frequencies - and will be seen as the first to be purged through our collective social platforms;

Love, compassion to the light workers brought here that see, feel, transmute the darkest energy for you has been zero to none and not only have we been tested beyond reason of our service for God, love, unity, peace, we have been abused beyond what any master, any god, any master had endured or would have survived; - we carry the vibrational, the knowing, the images, the stories and leadership so that we can alchemize what the average community has no idea about - we alchemize on behalf of the collective; and further sent darkness, sent ignorance and hate in our being so - and so if you want to sit in such darkness - God, Source, will shift those that choose to play with such intent to an earth where they can - the divine and innocent will no longer bare the ignorance of the selfish;

The ignorance of false superficiality taking humanity to a new low; is beyond understandable - these are in 'normal' communities that hide what they do behind doors, throw voodoo, hide pictures and dolls that are the objects of hate and death and then call themselves the leaders, and elite ones that their subjects bow to are the 'right' ones; while the defiling they do behind doors is vomit-inducing.

The wounding that some will not acknowledge, and not account for and continue the rage against 1 light worker, while never seeing their distain and destruction that affected the entire world, galaxy is what detachment of spirit, disconnect of spirit and ones own heart;

The earth, all tribes of ancient days, the nature, the wildlife, the children, the skies, the ignorant governments that ignore and that seem to think pushing chemicals into the air to block the sun, is a higher consciousness way to serve its people - the suffocation of corruption can be seen, felt, and known in every day social 'business' - at what point will the looking within and making every day life of good will, peace, loving grace, and breaking into liberation be?

To never harm another to stay in your own lane, to never prey on another to take, to harm? At what point dear ones?

I simply can never understand this level of disregard and mere stupidity to the needs and honour of the greater good - and how one simply never stops to see ones own behaviour and account for it;

No church, no business, no leader that is false in their masks to do such deeds will ever go unseen by the Heavens; I have stated and offered such for years - to alter and shift course for so many and why God, was left crying, and rather than coming together and doing what is right; the waging on spiritual and spell casting schemes and wars to make an innocent person look wrong, look evil, when the very deeds done are the very ones placing pictures of you in a jar and taping to mirrors to mind-spell reality around them in selfishness and arrogance - it is beyond understanding -

Sacrifice, anyone that deals with sacrifice is not necessary and all will result in immediate karma; and what and who, nothing is worth it to the soul - nothing.

No title, no money, no being sworn to secrecy - you have to think, this is common sense, you being sworn to secrecy to a cult, group, that hides truth, betrays truth, betrays the innocent - you absolutely know, bet, God will call judgment on it all - your loyalty will be shaken until it is known within you -

WHO ARE YOU? Is that where your loyalty reigns to?

Is the shady 'behind closed doors' games and dramas detailed to a few pure souls, the ones speaking truth, the ones truly seeing, truly bringing protection to the innocent hearts not to be swallowed whole by the corrupt; this planet is not for sale. This planet and its people are not for trade or sale; and we the light workers, are calling judgment -

We are higher vibrational, we are not to be stolen from to satisfy the sacrifices of the ignorant and non-wise of creational laws and blessings given to all unconditionally -

Selfishness, and covering-up for the false elite? The fake businesses that hide corruption? Where do your loyalties reside; I am here to shake up what conformity simply has been 'ok' to live with and none are doing what is needed - for there are shady and corrupt people being paid, being coerced at every level - and what I would say when any corrupt person does to press you to buy into their sick game to benefit them;

'my loyalty is of truth, and I will not bend; you are not God, and you are not the power of pure knowing and pure love' Period.

I will stand for the innocence, and I will never ever give an ounce to that which is dark oil to the purity of all life - bow and bend to not to the devil those that play in bullying and entrapment, and blackmail - bow not - these will shake and fall and again, why would your loyalty be here anyhow - would you rather not live in simplicity and 1 bedroom space than give loyalty to the ignorant and dark? Who is your soul, spirit loyal to?

Will you pave the way for change and stand to the those that harm the innocent? Will you be the one that says 'no' you cannot do such, that is wrong, outright wrong, the false signatures, the games, the lies, the schemes, and dark arts that impale the innocent - when you The slight of hand in all levels of the social organization - it is being called and what and who is your loyalty to? None will be 'safe' when you test the hand of God; to think any 3D person has writer-ship on the divine plan for healing humanity, uplifting humanity, and bringing justice to the innocent and the meek.

Source, Spirit, the own energies of the higher consciousness, the highest self we all have, will bring whatever tower needs to for the waking up of the deep dark ignorance that refuses to stand in and be love, kindness, and care; Your own highest self, connected to all that God is, regardless of 3D human definition of 'religion' is not what GOD is - and your highest self will pluck whatever lesson to shake lower vibration beliefs and show you true lighted heavenly ones, to offer and expand what is a part of divine evolution - we will not remain in 3D darkness; we will and are ascending - and corruption, the deceit and behind the door schemes and conversations to end someone that is merely bringing truth; will be the new seeds for a new garden that the innocent do deserve;

Where, how, what greed, the false gods, the sacrificing gets you to a state of such;

When you pass; you will know you did what was right and clears the darkness of sadness your soul will carry when you favour the corrupt and give your loyalty to such; any level in any business - all have to take ownership and responsibility for the 'slight of hand' and hush hush that goes blind to - innocent life is higher authority; always.

Truth is truth, always. There is no title, no title on human level that will ver ever ever trump, trump God; life and truth is life and truth; When you choose to corrupt such; who is your loyalty to? someone that pays for a home? Then move.

Never give your loyalty to the devil - you will forever be in debt; that house is not soul debt - soul debt is soul debt - and lifetimes to transmute and learn the lessons to why you gave power to anyone that had 0 care for the innocent and the children that came here to know you would look out and do what is best for them;

Where have we gone wrong and what person, what inner realm says, or thinks that any of this is ok? My goodness; 1 light worker is not enough - time, energy, the heavens, the very highest beings have been offered for all to reconsider and live from love; all were given such by the grace of god and the only importance is title, money, taking.

Source, the Creator, the Heavens, bring and birth such species, beings, to bring light, to bring higher knowing; and those stuck in such disregard of self, of their own spirit and soul, those choosing not to heal and care not to care for others, the higher plan; this is the shifting out of 3D to 5D - the callous, the careless, the degrading; the false and the lies; watch it shift out -

I was brought here for the benevolence of creation and the multi-verse - the few corrupt corps; even if a billion dollars is nothing to the multi-verse - watch God shift - corruption is corruption - no 3D man in a tower, or deepest pockets and title they think they hold; corruption and deceit to humanity will not hold up to the purity of light that will bathe what is utterly breaking to the spirit of our evolution -

Seek the innocence, seek the oneness, seek the unity, seek the purity within - this is the new way - and those that choose to not, to degrade, and defile the purity and greatness offered as a gift; will be shifted - to fight it out with others that want to fight it out - steal and take from those that want to take and steal and rape the innocent -

Arrogance and ignorance is not bliss - it is ugly and it is defaming of that of the grace of all Creation and denying those that truly ache to evolve beyond the darkness and slavery -

God is laying the hand down; look back on the many many many years of my offering; from the Heavens, the many light workers, and we have been made a joke, stolen from by those that care nothing for humanity, or others healing, or life; bring it and watch God prepare.

The meek will inherit the earth - and the grossly depraved, the wounded wounded souls that think abusing, and testing the innocent to play in their games of selfishness will be those that will be washed up in natural acts, the destruction of the businesses, and the falling of their so falsely held titles by only the way that God will; the very ones that teased and rapes Gods innocent precious ones, will be the very ones that will story in lessons of 'it never has to be a tower moment; simply heal - your wounds do not have to become another's and is the lack of self, no sense of self so painted that you have to 'test' a sacred ancient God'

The programs and those running the programs of corruption are being called supreme judgment - period.

You can choose to set new human, earthly and orderly standards, for out of the chaos of corruption and those that simply care not, would not choose to go within and take ownership and heal - there is a need for no more back and forth, no more games, and no more playing in such darkness;

It is done.

Ashtar offered to me yesterday; 'you would be very sad if you knew even half of what was done behind the scenes to you; you are in protection; walk in'

Do not blame the small select group solely, it is a collective energy - and how women, how the divine, how the innocent, remember I walk on behalf of the children, all women, all disenfranchised; the earth and nature, wildlife; these are the abhorrent treatment to what Source, Creator, God, the essence of all unconditional love has blessed all of earth beings and it is for grand portion unseen, uncared for, devalued, and rather than breaking corruption and tradition of falseness and carelessness, they will fight for their coin and selfishness; it makes no sense; how and what will your money have for your soul, spirit, when your world around you and all you are within is rotting -

This was called 2 years ago - and the heavens are bringing the calvary. When we were meant to arise and be better, the bullies in the playground simply wanted nothing to do with peace, unity, without stealing and raping you into destruction or suicide - they all know exactly what they wished and what they did every day to play on their behalf to 'win' 'compete with God' and take as much as they could -

Treating a heavenly embodiment of the Christ, to be spit on in the myriad of ways I have; is simply sad and I cry for the Heavens, that put so much energy, good will, and promise into each soul, every person, to do what is right, do what is kind, do what is honourable for all children;

People will loose everything and bring others into their pot of ugly to simply know they are on top, they will not loose money that they simply did not earn, nor inspired through them; the ugliness that some will do for money - the false beliefs that this is importance and what religion and what leader, would ever have you, the children, the importance of life be this? What is done beyond and behind the closed doors to keep you pouring into their games, and will even go to extremes to test you on all realms to see how much you will be willing to take to remain steady in pure love, steady in pure honouring of life, the pure leadership to humanity that humanity needs;

These people did everything to play with a divine being; I have been sickly played with like an utter joke, and in a Councils of Light meeting last night, my teams, the Mother Father, Angelics, Masters and Ashtar of the Federation, were very lovingly supporting me with a new

and in which you rise, you give, you offer, you survive the worst of the worst, and those that 'test' you to see how strong you are vibrationally, tested by systems and ways, those that call themselves elite, or important in the community, those that have churches and masked by the titles that mean nothing to spirit; and yet call themselves 'religious' or government, or leaders of systems that are breaking as we speak;

Watch it fall - then the lighted ones that were raped and broken 10,000 times will be called for the brilliance to remake in light and higher alignment - for ego will not ever get your through the light upcoming - either prepare to accommodate the light, process and honour it - or the breaking will be - ascension will not cease for the ignorant, disrespectful and selfish so stuck in torture treatments to the different -

And so - good luck and happy times,

God is shifting me - money is not the most important - nor is the false churches nor governments that want you to believe so -

Ok for all to play games - until the falling occurs - say you are for the people and then behind doors the plots are being done, the lightships and celestial life is being shown arrogance, vanity, and warped ignorant false power - remember oh powerful ones that take from the innocent - there are wounds in why and which you do, behave; you are not better than any other - you ARE ONE with all.

And so it is,

Joanna

JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com

DONATIONs; PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

#ascension #healinghumanity #divineknowing #truth #beinglight #lightworkers #healingcorruption #5Dearth #God #Source #healingourchildren #galacticfederation #lightships #UFOS #falsegovernments #alignmentwithlight #alliancewithlight #ascensionclasses

[signanothername]

Ooops now i can’t stop

To put it into perspective, I love kind characters that persist in doing good even when the world only shows them cruelty, and that’s why Rung immediately entered my heart the moment i saw him

His design is fucking brilliant, it’s really good at showing u what kinda person he is even before any actual dialogue or events happening around him, the moment i laid eyes on him i immediately knew he’s gonna be that one really kind character, he’s mainly composed of circles AND squares and generally in character design, circles are used for kind, upbeat and nice characters, while squares are used for reliable characters that you could confined in and trust

the fact his colors are mainly warm toned, having his primary color be orange specifically, it’s amazing cause not only does it work so well in conjunction with, but also as a direct contradiction to his personality

Design aside, his personality is what i truly love about him, usually speaking, kind characters would let people step on them in the name of being kind, which in turn just means they’re always taken advantage of, which breaks my heart

Rung is not like that tho, and that’s the twist i really love about his character, he’s kind yes, but that doesn’t mean he’d stand idly by and let anyone do whatever they want, he stands up for himself, shows displeasure/anger whenever he’s not treated well and even put people in their places if they get too bold (usually by words alone) but that’s his super power isn’t it tho? Nautica even acknowledges his use of words as an admirable trait after all

He has boundaries, and he isn’t afraid to enforce those boundaries

Hell not necessarily with someone messing with him, he’s even willing to be firm when someone is keeping something to their self that they shouldn’t be keeping *cough* telling Minimus to tell the others the truth or he will do it himself*cough*

Like damn look at that expression he really isn’t up for Minimus’ bullshit

But that’s the thing tho, i LOVE how firm Rung can be without being an asshole, he’s got that amazing balance between being kind and firm, and when to be both or either, he knows how to control his emotions most of the time, and how to present them

Not only that, but Rung specifically being the one to be suspicious of Minimus and even realize his truth by simply testing his theory? *chef’s kiss*

Cause it works SO WELL with Rung’s expertise in psychology, his whole job requires great observation skills and that’s what Rung shows in literally *looks at the page* one fucking panel my god, like damn he’s good at his job chchchchch

His position as a psychiatrist was already very interesting to me, cause from my contact with TF media, i never saw a character that worked as a psychiatrist/therapist, which is mind boggling cause during a war, you’d think we will see so many psychiatrist characters, but nah, we see scientists and medical doctors, but mental health? Who needs it apparently

So to see that first panel of him going “I was your psychiatrist for six centuries”

well, color me very intrigued

Which brings me to my next point

His identity crisis

I fucking love his entire character arc and how everything wraps up at the end, literally the very first panel he shows up in, you get Red Alert not remembering him or his name, and Rung was his psychiatrist for six centuries, which is then re-enforced multiple times, like how in the second issue when Ratchet calls him “Ring” and Rung immediately corrects him (and seems frustrated by it even)

It immediately gives you the vibe that Rung is really forgettable, someone without an impact on the people around him, which in turns raises so many questions

Cause like, HELLO??? He’s a psychiatrist???? He leaves a BIG impact upon the lives of his patients yet even then, it’s like the universe itself doesn’t want him to be remembered

Which ties so well with his identity crisis and self worth, he’s lost, and he decided to study psychiatry to make sense of himself, and that breaks me

This man wanted to understand himself, yet put in mind he wasn’t able to, he still struggled through it all, and the thing is, no one cared

Not properly, not at first at least

Ratchet, was the first to truly care cause he understood what it’s like, and we love us that doctor & psychiatrist solidarity

I love how his identity crisis also connects with his Alt Mode, the fact he himself doesn’t understand or know what he turns into, an Alt Mode is a form of self expression, from flyers to grounded vehicles, Rung was none of these, he didn’t know what he turns into or what his Alt Mode was for exactly, which further expanded that gap in his identity

And even before fully understanding or knowing what he turns into, when he was on the road of self discovery, when he only had an ounce of an idea what he turns into, it turned to fear, fear of himself, or what he might cause

To the point of asking people to dismantle him if he died in his Alt Mode

That’s the thing about self discovery, it can be frightening, especially when you discover something about yourself that you believe could cause so much harm, and sometimes you think it’s better if you kept it to yourself, all motivated by fear and uncertainty

Which makes the relationships Rung makes along the line very satisfying, cause he finally decides to tell Nightbeat about it when he asks

Not to mention, when Rung loses his job as a psychiatrist, it was like he lost a part of himself, he becomes even more lost and uncertain, his job wasn’t just all he had, but it was like a emotional crutch

He takes care of people because he doesn’t know how to take care of himself

How can such a sunshine character be so damn tragic

But i think the last revealis what got to me, when it’s revealed that he’s Primus, and the reason he’s so forgettable was something completely out of his control

It just-YGHGGUJVVJJVJVVJVJVJVJ

ok back to normal, anyway, I’m kinda upset by the indication that after his sacrifice, most people forgot about him

Anyway, i could ramble more but it’s 3 am and i really gotta go sleep

Have these panels to cry about with me tho

The first one especially tears my heart cause it gives me the vibes Rung is looking forward to meeting his bestie Skids again <3

One day imma ramble about Rung and nobody’s gonna be able to stop me >:)

[novantinuum]

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Mommie Dearest (Ethan x MC)

Summary: After 26 long years, Ethan finally comes face to face with his mother

Author’s Note: I wanted this to be out in time for Mother’s Day, but my writer’s block was like “lmao”, but better late than never, right?

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @adrex04 @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartwriting @mvalentine @nooruleman @ruinedbypixels

~v~

Ethan Ramsey has never been so nervous in his life. Not when he did interviews for medical school. Not when he met Dr. Banerji. Not even when he finally asked out Naomi for a date.

Walking into an Italian restaurant to meet his mother has him at his peak.

She’s been trying to reach out for months now and he’s been able to rebuff her at every turn, but she’s really kicked it up these past few weeks. It all culminated in her showing up at Edenbrook, in front of his office, telling everyone within a few feet of her that she’s Ethan Ramsey’s mother.

Alan wanted him to reach out at least once, to see if the mother and son could actually make amends. Naveen thought so as well. An hour or so of his time could answer a lot of questions, and maybe help him seek closure.

It wasn’t until Naomi spoke up did he actually agree to give it a shot. She said he deserved answers, he deserved to be heard, and his mother owed it to him more than anything to sit down and face him.

So now he’s here. Coming face to face with Margaret Ramsey for the first time in over two decades. He wants to turn around and run. He wants to hide somewhere. He wants to call Naomi and tell her to come to the restaurant and help him muddle through this dinner. But Ethan doesn’t do any of that, instead he powers through.

She’s sitting at a table right in the middle of the restaurant, casually glancing at a wine menu. A gasp catches in his throat at the sight of her. She’s so much different than he remembers her, his memory only ever able to produce a hazy figure, but she’s still so similar, just older. She’s skinnier than he can recall, more frail. She’s wearing a simple green sweater and jeans, her hair in a bun, with a pair of cubic zirconia earrings, but Ethan can tell this is her version of getting “dolled up”.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing, gaping at her like she’s some sort of museum exhibit, but Margaret breaks the trance, staring up at him. A wide grin breaks out on her face and she instantly stands up. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad you came!”

She reaches out to hug him, but Ethan bristles and takes a step back, recoiling from his mother’s touch as if it’d burn him. Margaret flinches, but she doesn’t make a fuss over it. “Sit, sit!”

Ethan slides into his seat as Margaret does the same. For a long while, they just stare at each other.

Again, Margaret is the first one to break the tension. “I know you said you’d come, but I’m still shocked to see you. I really thought you’d change your mind.”

He did change his mind. Multiple times throughout the day, Ethan went back and forth on this decision, unsure if it was the right one. “Well, I’m here.”

“I’m glad.” Margaret looks him up and down. Gone is the lanky 11 year old she remembered, and there’s a grown man in his place. It feels surreal, the amount of time that’s passed. “You look so good. Parents often wonder what their kids are going to look like but wow, seeing you so grown up is...mind boggling.”

She isn’t some distant aunt or third cousin twice removed he’s seeing at a family reunion, but his mother. His growth wouldn’t be such a shock if she actually stuck around. “A lot changes in 26 years.”

“Touche.”

Tense silence hangs above them like a dark cloud. The only reprieve they get is when a waiter comes to the table to take their drink order. Ethan springs for a bottle of wine, needing alcohol to get through this.

“Your father tells me you’re some sort of hot shot doctor,” Margaret starts. “And you have a whole team of people under you.”

“I do,” Ethan confirms. “It’s a diagnostics team.”

“A what now?”

“Diagnostics. We treat the untreatable. When no one else knows what’s wrong, we step in and get things figured out.”

Margaret oohs at the explanation, smiling. “You sound so fancy. Like Dr. House!”

“Sort of. I’m not addicted to opioids though.”

“My son, the doctor. I always knew you were destined for greatness. You came out of the womb smart and wise beyond your years.”

The anecdote might’ve been nice coming from his dad, but hearing his mom say it makes him shift uncomfortably. She’s a stranger, for Christ’s sake. She doesn’t know a damn thing about him, about his potential for greatness.

Quickly, Ethan lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip. He exhales slowly, carefully measuring his next thoughts and words. “What are we doing, Margaret?”

The question catches the older woman off guard. “What do you mean? We’re having dinner.”

“Okay, but why? Why are we here? Why now? I’m 37 years old, why did you pop back into my life at this point in time? What do you want?”

“It would’ve been a lot sooner, but you weren’t too receptive to a reconciliation,” Margaret points out.

“So it’s my fault? Is that the angle you really want to go for?”

“No! No, of course not.” Margaret’s eyes shift around the dining room, casually observing her surroundings. She feels anxious now, jittery.

Eventually her gaze reruns to Ethan and she gives him her full attention. “I guess I’m just tired of running. I know I’ve missed out on so much, more than I can ever make up for but, I’m here now. I’m here and I’d love to be in your life again. You asked me what I want, I just want you, in whatever capacity you’ll have me.”

“Why’d you leave in the first place?” Ethan asks. “I thought we were a family, I thought we were happy.”

“Ethan…” she doesn’t want to go down this road. “Can’t we leave that in the past?”

“No.”

“I don’t have an answer.”

Ethan shakes his head. “That’s not good enough. There had to be some reason you left your job, your home, your husband, your child. You left and you never looked back. I deserve an answer, any answer. Witness Protection, alien abduction, anything.”

“I was young,” Margaret says. “I was 19 when I had you, I was still a baby. And we just settled into...monotony and routine, and I felt antsy. I didn’t think I could be a good wife and mother, my heart wasn’t in it. I thought no mother or wife would be better than a crappy one, and you guys would be better off without me in the picture.”

“You have some extremely flawed logic, Margaret.”

She only shrugs in response. “I know, but you weren’t anticipating a perfect answer. So...can we please just try to enjoy this dinner?”

Ethan ponders the question. He is starving, and this is a restaurant he’s been meaning to try. While the company isn’t what he’d usually want, Ethan is sure he can make do.

“We can enjoy dinner.”

Margaret smiles, her eyes crinkling slightly as she does so. “Yay! I hope they have a good chicken marsala because I am starving.”

~v~

By the time they’re finishing appetizers, Ethan has relaxed considerably. Maybe it’s the glass of wine, maybe he’s finally ready to ease up around his mother, but whatever it is, Ethan is grateful.

“Tell me more about your job,” Margaret probes. “I may not know all the medical mumbo jumbo, but I’ve seen E.R. I can kind of follow along. How long have you been in Boston?”

“Since I graduated medical school, 11 years now. I did my internship at Edenbrook, and I never left.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“You don’t ever want to be somewhere else? Like Stanford? Or Johns Hopkins?

“They’re great, but no. And I went to Hopkins for medical school, I’ve had my fill of them.” Ethan’s phone vibrates in his pocket. “Excuse me.”

He slips his phone out and looks at the screen. It’s a text message from Naomi.

How are things going?

He quickly sends her a reply.

I think they’re going...ok.

And you know I hate texting.

It takes her less than 10 seconds to respond, his phone beeping multiple times.

Yay!! I’m so glad things are going well!

And you love me, so you’ll deal

Ok, I’ll leave you alone now.

That makes Ethan roll his eyes, but he smiles at the message.

“Talking to someone special?” Margaret asks, gaining his attention.

Ethan’s head snaps up and he looks at his mom. “Huh?”

Margaret points to the phone. “Your face just lit up when you read your messages. Your dad told me that you’re seeing someone. Is that her?”

“Yes.”

“What’s her name?”

Ethan doesn’t know if he’s willing to talk to Margaret about something as precious to him as Naomi. Does she deserve to be privy to his personal life?

He decides to take the leap. “Naomi.”

“Ooh, like the supermodel,” Margaret coos. She raises an eyebrow. “Are...you dating the supermodel?”

“No, I’m not dating Naomi Campbell. Naomi—my Naomi—is a doctor at Edenbrook.”

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“Seven months now.”

“Do you love her?”

“Very much so,” Ethan confesses, not a hint of trepidation in his voice.

“Well what are you doing still being boyfriend and girlfriend? Sounds to me like you should lock things down and marry her.”

Margaret Ramsey is the last person Ethan will ever take relationship advice from. “Naomi and I are perfectly fine with the pace of our relationship. I’m not going to rush anything.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Margaret sighs wistfully. “”I just...I've wasted so much time, and I’ve missed so many moments. And now that I’m back, I’m projecting. It’s misplaced, and I overstepped.”

Ethan softens slightly. “It’s fine, no need to apologize.”

“Besides, there’ll be plenty of time for me to one day see you gg walk down the aisle. I don’t know if your father told you, but I’ve been looking for a place of my own.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I got a job at a local grocery store, and I’ve been trying to find something close by, ideally in Boston or close by.”

“Good for you.”

Margaret looks around, unable to meet Ethan’s gaze and she rings her hands together. After staring at the passing waiters and patrons for a while, she turns back to the table, though her eyes remain fixed on the tablecloth. “I’ve been trying my hardest recently to get my life back in order after spending so much time aimlessly flitting around New England. But no one tells you how challenging it is to do that.” 

Finally she meets Ethan’s eyes. “In my hunt for a place of my own, I’ve come to realize that it won’t be smooth sailing. My savings is abysmal, and my credit is shot, so passing credit checks is hard and banks want such high down payments on houses and even higher interest rates.”

“I know you’ll probably think I’m ridiculous for bringing this up, and I hate to even mention it, but I just thought if in order for you and I to get on the right track, you’d maybe want to help. I guess it’s safe to assume you’re doing well…”

Ethan sees his mother’s mouth moving, but the rest of her spiel fades out like white noise. This is what she really wanted to meet with him for? Money?

A chill runs through his body, starting at the base of his skull, traveling down the length of his spine, and moving outwards. He feels frozen in place, like he’s being forced to sit in this chair.

Everything is jumbled and he can’t form a coherent thought to save his life.

Whatever it is, he wills it to pass. He doesn’t want to cause a scene in the restaurant, and he doesn’t want to be emotional in front of this woman.

It takes a long time for him to regain control of his person, but when he does, he releases a breath. Margaret is still going on, talking about a loan manager, but he holds up a hand to stop her in her tracks.

“You’re good,” he says. “Like...really good.”

She feigns confusion. “Good at what?”

“Acting. You’re so good at being a grifter, the lies and tall tales come so easily to you. You begged me to meet you, forced my dad to beg, and for what? Because you’re flat broke.” Ethan chuckles humorlessly. “What, did you Google me and dig for my net worth? Find out what type of car I drive? Research how much condos in my neighborhood cost?”

“Ethan, I–”

“Save it!” His tone is so sharp, it makes her flinch. The couple at the table next to them stop talking in order to stare. “I can’t believe I let my guard down around you, even slightly. You’re still the same piece of garbage you were 26 years ago.”

“You know Margaret, I would’ve respected you more if you would’ve been upfront and said you wanted money. Sure, I would’ve still said no, but there was no need for the disingenuous long con. You didn’t have to pull my dad into this, you didn’t need to show up to my job, you didn’t have to pretend to care about making amends, about being a part of my future, any of it.” Ethan hastily stands, pulling out his wallet. Hands trembling and clammy, he pulls out a crisp hundred dollar bill and throws it on the table. “Don’t ever, in your pathetic excuse for a life, reach out to me again.”

Ethan doesn’t bother grabbing his jacket. Instead he just turns around and walks away, ignoring Margaret’s pleas and shouts.

~v~

The drive home is long, silent, and tense, but Ethan makes it without snapping his steering wheel in half or causing a rage induced accident. He’s trying his hardest to remain calm, because who the fuck is Margaret and why does she have the right to get under Ethan fucking Ramsey’s skin? But it’s not working. He can feel all of the emotions simmering under the surface, crackling with a sharp intensity.

He opens the door to his apartment and crosses the threshold. His eyes fall on Naomi, sitting on his couch, curled up in a thick blanket, watching some silly reality show. Jenner’s on her lap, happily watching the show with her as she scratches his ears.

His entrance garners their attention and they look up. Naomi’s eyes widen and she cranes her neck, hoping to get a look at the time on the microwave from her spot on the couch. “Ethan! What are you doing here?”

“I live here, Rookie,” he quips. Ethan kicks off his shoes, leaving them at the door

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Obviously, smartass. I thought you’d still be having dinner with your mom.”

“I don’t have a mom,” Ethan says, his voice taking on an edge she’s not used to. “I had a surrogate who stayed 11 years too long.”

Naomi stands up and walks towards Ethan, who’s heading into the kitchen. She watches as he rinses out a glass and pours himself some scotch. “What happened? I thought things were going well.”

“I thought so too.” Ethan downs the drink in one gulp. “We were doing okay, she asked about my work, she asked about you, about us. And then it all culminated in her asking me for money.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she claims she wants a down payment for a house close by, but who knows if that was the truth. I could cut her a check and she’d be out of the state within an hour.”

Naomi frowns. “Baby, I am so sorry.”

“What is there to be sorry for?” Ethan asks. “Seriously, what? This isn’t your fault. Margaret showed me the type of person she was 26 years ago when she said she was going to the grocery store and she never came back. She showed me who she was when she never once tried to see me. I didn’t hear from her on my birthdays. I didn’t hear from her when I graduated high school, college, medical school, nothing. She wasn’t there when I got my tonsils removed, or when I won the science fair.  She disappeared like a thief in the night without a backwards glance and without a shred of remorse. And even tonight, not once did she apologize, she just gave me a shitty excuse about how she thought I was better off without her, and you know what? She was goddamn right. Margaret Ramsey showed her true colors a long time ago, hell, even all those months ago when she stole out of the convenience store.”

“Birthdays, Christmases, 26 Mother’s Days came and went without her. You know what was really fun? Seeing my friends in school have moms that participated in bake sales, and ‘Back to School Nights’ and field trips. It was great having the other parents and classmates take pity on me because I was the motherless child.”

“And she just waltzes back into town thinking, ‘Oh wow the kid I abandoned actually made something of himself. I researched doctor’s salaries in Boston, Google tells me he lives in a multi-million dollar apartment complex, he drives a Mercedes. Maybe I can swoop in and upend his life once more.’” Ethan takes the tumbler in his hand and throws it against the wall. Naomi jumps back, startled by the loud crash. “Fuck her! She’s dead to me.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath and takes a step closer to Ethan. “You don’t mean that.”

“I absolutely do mean it,” Ethan argues.

“No you don’t. Because if you were truly done with the situation, if you were truly healed, you wouldn’t be so worked up over it.”

Ethan glances at the shards of glass littering his kitchen floor. “No, I think that did it. I think I got it out of my system.”

“I think you should–”

“You know what I think?” Ethan interjects, not giving Naomi the chance to speak. “I think we should move on.” He turns to his girlfriend and takes a step closer, eyes raking over her. “Moving on, hello. I don’t think I greeted you properly.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. I’m sorry I even let thoughts of that woman follow me home.” Ethan surges forward, his hand curling around Naomi’s waist, pulling her closer. He bends slightly, inhaling her scent. Her skin is soft and she smells like coconut. “You smell good.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I even went to that dinner,” Ethan murmurs. “I could’ve been here and showered with you.”

Naomi can see right through him. He’s deflecting, trying to push his feelings aside. He’s so good at it, bottling everything up, but she doesn’t want that to happen. “Ethan–”

He cuts Naomi off again, this time slanting his mouth over hers, enveloping her in a kiss that threatens to steal the breath straight from her lungs. She scrambles, arms flailing as she tries to hold onto something that will keep her upright. Thankfully Ethan walks them backwards until her back is pressed against the fridge.

His tongue sweeps across her bottom lip before invading her mouth, deepening the kiss. Desperate to touch her, Ethan grips her hip in his hand, reveling in her warmth. Naomi is here. She’s here. She’s real. And she’s not going anywhere.

She breaks the kiss, the urge to inhale too strong to ignore. Her palms rest against his chest, and she can feel just how erratic his heartbeat is. Sparing a glance upward, Naomi’s breath catches in her throat as she sees Ethan looking down at her, tears in his eyes.

“Ethan, talk to me,” Naomi pleads, taking his face in both of her hands. “Don’t shut me out, don’t try to deflect.” Ethan shakes his head, unable to find the words, unable to say them out loud. Naomi sighs. If he won’t start the conversation, she will. “I love you. I love you so much, and I am so sorry. I’m so sorry about your mom. You deserve so much more than she’s ever given you.”

That seems to help push things in the right direction, as Ethan slumps forward and rests all of his weight on her, his false bravado gone

“Why does it s-still matter?” Ethan asks, his voice breaking as the sobs settle in, wracking his body. “Why do I still care so much?”

“Because you’re not the robot you pretend to be.”

“I’m so stupid. I should’ve never agreed to do this.”

“You’re the furthest thing from stupid. You needed to see her for yourself. She owed you answers and closure.”

“I didn’t get it.”

“You did, it just wasn’t pretty. Now you know for certain the type of woman she is.”

But why did he have to throw himself back into the lion’s den in order to find out what he already knew? Now all of the old wounds have come back to surface, open and raw, ripe for picking. He feels like he’s been turned inside out and left for the taking.

“All these y-years later, and she still doesn’t...love m-me,” Ethan cries, fat tears rolling down the apples of his cheeks. “She st-still doesn’t want me. What did I do?”

Standing in front of her isn’t her 37 year old doctor boyfriend, but a heartbroken 11 year old who desperately wants his mom to come home from the “grocery store”. His pain is palpable, and Naomi’s heart aches for him. Ethan was dealt a shitty hand, and he didn’t deserve it at all.

His weight becomes too much for her to bear, and they sink down on the kitchen floor. Ethan buries his head in Naomi’s lap and she just cradles him. She’s never seen Ethan this upset and out of sorts, not when Delores died, and not when Naveen was on the brink of death, so she feels like a fish out of water.

“You didn’t do anything. You’re the child, you can’t carry this burden. Your mother is at fault, and it’s all her doing.”

She doesn’t know what else to say to him. She can tell him that he’s smart, and successful. She can tell him that he’s a wonderful guy, and that he deserves the world, and his mother is a selfish idiot for not seeing what she sees, but she doesn’t know if it will help. All the compliments and platitudes in the world can’t make up for your own mother not wanting anything to do with you.

So she doesn’t say anything. Silence falls between them, the only sound to be heard coming from the television and Jenner occasionally whining from his spot on the couch. Naomi simply strokes his hair and other places she can touch on his body.

They stay in that position for a long time, but the cold tiles of the kitchen floor become too uncomfortable to ignore after a while. Naomi stands up and drags Ethan along with her as they make their way to his bedroom.

Ethan is dead weight and doesn’t offer much help, so Naomi rids him of his clothes by herself, until he’s left in nothing but his boxers. His last bout of energy is used to collapse into bed, where he curls into Naomi’s side, holding her close.

“I’m off tomorrow,” Naomi says, breaking their silence. “I think you should take a personal day. You deserve to get some rest.”

She expects him to argue. He’s Ethan Ramsey, a workaholic, and if anything, he’ll use this as a reason to bury himself further in his work.

But he doesn’t argue. He nods and says, “Okay.”

“I’m sorry if I was too aggressive earlier,” Ethan continues, his voice still soft and quiet. “Yelling, throwing that glass, kissing you like that, it wasn’t appropriate.”

“Apology not needed. But thank you anyway.”

Ethan rolls over and stares at Naomi, analyzing her features. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Naomi kisses his bicep, too lazy to stretch up and kiss his lips. She rolls over and turns off the lamp at his bedside.

It doesn’t take long and she can feel herself getting sleepy, the events of the past hour taking their toll, a heaviness settling in her bones. As she starts to doze off, Ethan calls out for her. “Hey, Naomi?”

“Hmmm?”

“You’re the most important family I have.”

And with that, he falls asleep.

[ourbrokeninsanity]

Hulk/Reader SFW and NSFW Headcanons

Hulk is my bae. I spend too much time thinking about this so decided to share. No idea if these are any good or if anyone other than me even wants this but *shrugs*

SFW aka Hulk is a gift

Hulk is a tactile guy. If you’re ok with it, he tends to touch you a lot - a hand on your shoulder, an affectionate back pat, hugs, have you sitting in his lap or on his shoulder like an pirate’s parrot. It’s a way for him to show you affection, but also he just enjoys non-harmful touching - it’s a reminder to you but mostly himself that he can, in fact, touch people without hurting them. If you reciprocate, he’s over the moon. 

So, yeah, you’re probably going to spend a lot of time in his arms. Which is pretty great, as Hulk is warm and surprisingly cosy.

Dates tend to be non-traditional - very little going out to the movies or to a restaurant here, people just don’t react well and everything is tense and no fun. You don’t mind much, the two of you find other ways to have fun. Movie nights at home in comfy clothes with loads of snacks - what could be better? Other date ideas include: playing pranks on the other Avengers/Smashers, helping him train (ie Hulk showing off his strength for you), cooking together (Hulk is fond of spicy food - he is technically from New Mexico after all, and he is always happy to eat the evidence of botched recipes. Also he is the best at kneading bread. If a recipe calls for an ingredient to be smashed he is on it, which becomes an inside joke.)

Hulk isn’t the most eloquent guy, but he’s serious about relationship negotiation. Hulk is very aware of just how much bigger and stronger he is compared to you and how the outside world would view your relationship - he needs to know that he isn’t pushing your boundaries or making you uncomfortable. If you’re willing to initiate these conversations or help him clarify his viewpoint he’s grateful - he appreciates that you understand how important this is to him.

He is protective, sometimes very protective. He’ll let you fight your own battles but he is always going to be watching, ready to wade in if he has to/you ask him to. Frankly, anyone who messes with you is on his ‘to be smashed’ list. If someone, anyone, actually hurts you (especially physically - he has the same reaction to emotional hurt but is aware that smashing isn’t always the best response here - especially if the perpetrator is a friend or relative) then they’re getting smashed. Hard. He will then stick to your side like glue, offering affection, protection, comfort and reassurance until you bat him away. This applies whether you are a superhero yourself or not.

Hulk is super supportive. He’s great to vent to, able to offer supportive silence with affirming noises and/or increasingly ridiculous and violent smash offers depending on the subject of the ranting. You try not to do so too much, aware that Hulk has enough anger issues himself, no matter how well controlled. He supports your hobbies, even if he doesn’t understand them. He may not be the most vocal cheerleader, but you know that he supports you. Really enjoys watching you do/talk about the things you’re passionate about, he finds it really sweet. He also trusts you with his hobbies - you are the one person trusted with The Zoo (also he absolutely has a figurine of you, made after he introduced you to Glorian. It’s one of his favourites. You blush when you see it).

You will fight anybody who calls Hulk a monster or a beast. Hulk will try and pull you away, but inside he is super touched. Also, he admires your left hook - for such a small person you’re a pretty effective smasher. You also get annoyed when the other Avengers treat Hulk like smashing is all he is good at - you see a side of Hulk that not many others are aware of but you insist that it’s there to see, if people bothered.

He has quite a few nicknames for you: Tiny (no matter your size you are tiny to him, Little Smash(er), Pretty Girl/Boy/One (when he’s feeling playful or wants to see you blush).

Hulk is rather protective, and proud, of the fact that you’re his s/o. Not Banner’s, his. He cared about Betty, but she loved Bruce over Hulk, and really only loved Hulk as an extension of Bruce. You, on the other hand, care and love Hulk as his own person. That means the world to him. He repays you by seeing you as you are and loving the real you, rather than what others try to paint you as. Basically, Hulk is a literal gift and you don’t understand why the world can’t see that.

NSFW (such sin, but good sin)

I personally headcanon Hulk as demisexual. As such, you’ve been together for quite a while before sexual stuff gets broached. He just notices one day that he’s attracted to you, and is honestly a little mind-boggled; when did you become so sexy???? It takes him a little time to get used to. For a little while pretty much everything you do turns him on a little and he gets all flustered. He’s very glad that his thick green skin means that his blush isn’t very noticeable. 

Hulk doesn’t really have a preference for physical characteristics on a partner. Rather adorably though, once you’re together and he starts noticing you sexually, he tends to notice people who have your traits more, simply because they remind him of you. Not that he becomes attracted to them, he just notices certain traits that match or nearly match yours. 

So much negotiation. Hulk is so worried about hurting you, it takes a lot of discussion and reassurance from you before he’s ready to do much more than kiss you. For this reason, you initiate pretty much all sexy times at first. Eventually he becomes confident enough in himself and his knowledge of you (your body, your boundaries) to initiate.

Because of the huge amount of discussions, your sex life is a slow build thing, which just heightens your anticipation. Like pretty much all aspects of your relationship it’s non-traditional, based not on societal expectations but on what feels good and comfortable to you both. Because of this it is very, very good. You realise you may be spoiled and now ruined for any future sexual relationships, Hulk takes such good care of you.

You tend to be on top. It makes the size difference easier to manage, and lets Hulk relax a little. He’s not going to fall on you or accidentally crush you. You approve of anything that lets Hulk relax. 

Hulk is a gentle and enthusiastic lover. He is super responsive to you and enjoys instruction. Tell him what you like, guide him, beg him and just watch him light up as he gets to it. It is quite possible that your first sexual foray started out as a make-out session where you pointed out how much you like his size (”your forearms are works of art, big guy. I could get off against that wrist.”) where you precede to do just that. Hulk has a Thing about you masturbating on him, whether that’s you fingering yourself/jacking off whist you’re sat on his lap or humping his arm/thigh. 

Unless you have some shapeshifting/sizeshifting/magic of some sort, penile penetration just isn’t going to be a thing, he’s far too big. Frottage is a large part of your sexual repertoire - but as you will smugly tell anyone who asks, penetration is over-rated. Hulk does not find this at all frustrating - he’d never want to do something that would risk harming you. Also his focus is on making you feel good over making you cum/orgasm - and it’s really nice that he takes the pressure off (especially if you’re female-bodied).

The absolute king of oral (fight me on this). Hulk loves going down on you, absolutely loves it. It turns him on (loves the smell and taste of you, and the noises you make, yes, give him more) and soothes his ego - see he isn’t just a monster he is also a beast in the bedroom who can make you sound like that. Whether you’re on your back or riding his face he loves it. He will totally sling your legs over his shoulders and effortlessly hold you up as he goes down on you - oral sex + showing off his strength = win. Sexual episodes where he doesn’t go down on you at some point are pretty rare, honestly. You learn some tricks to reciprocate but Hulk honestly prefers giving over receiving. He gets of on getting you off.

Also the king of making out, once you get used to the size difference (honestly you are starting to realise you may have a size kink). Lying on him, mouths locked together, scraping your nails against his scalp as you grind down on his bulk = the best way to spend a lazy afternoon. 10/10.

His fingers are the same size of other guys dicks. Do with this information what you will. 

Hulk lowkey has a praise kink. He doesn’t accept a lot of praise outside the bedroom but you notice that once you’re getting down and dirty he just soaks it up, so you keep giving it to him. Tell him how good he’s doing and he just gets even more enthusiastic.

He also likes some sensation play, which you figure out after witnessing his reaction to you wearing velvet. This leads to you incorporating different fabrics and textures in the bedroom - Hulk is pretty open to experimentation (your whole relationship has been pretty experimental really, figuring out what you both want and can give each other) as long as he doesn’t feel like an experiment and it doesn’t risk hurting you). Velvet is a favourite of his. 

He enjoys bathing with you. Showers can be a little awkward as he’s so much bigger, but if you have a tub large enough he’s pretty much always down to bathe with you. He loves the warm water and skin contact. He’s very relaxed and playful in the bath. Will both splash you and wash your back. Great bath buddy.

Hulk lowkey enjoys feeling you struggle against his strength. He’s not consciously aware of this, and would likely be horrified if he was - it screams harmful dominance, monster, to him because of his experiences. You are aware of it. And enjoy it. You know him using one hand to hold to hold your hips still as he gets you off (so you don’t get carried away and hurt yourself, he justifies) and enjoying the feel of you writhing and bucking against it, is a whole world away from forcing someone down to hurt them. 

[creative-poptart]

UT + US bros reaction to finding out that their BFF kept a huge secret from them, and they found out unexpectedly? They found out when BFF accidentally dropped a letter that was addressed to them and when opened, it talks about how BFF came from our universe and they know everything about them (Everything!). They feel they shouldn't be friends anymore b/c they feel that they betrayed their trust, they feel guilty for keeping it a secret, and possibly sounding crazy. (Sorry if this is confusing)

Not confusing at all, though I must admit this was a bit of a challenge to tackle! It may be a little shorter than what I normally make, but I’ll do my best.

UT Sans/Vanilla: Upon reading the letter that was actually addressed to him, he’s in a state of shock. Sure, he knew of the multiverse theory, but he never really thought it was something that was true! Regardless of that and the fact that you somehow know all about him, he’s now going to find you, if that even means going so far as to track you down, and try to get you to explain. How did you get here? Do you need to go back? What was your universe like and how on earth do you go back? Vanilla was a scientist at one point, don’t forget, and now that you’ve piqued his interest on it again, he’s going to try his best to get you to talk about the multiverse. If you refuse, he’s going to try and respect that as best he can, but if you accept, you’ll see a whole new side to him. He’s willing to go the extra mile to get you home if that’s what you want, though that will come with some hesitance to give up his best friend so easily.

“so the multiverse is real, huh? i never would have guessed in all my life that the crazy theory was true... now, what do you need me to do?”

UT Papyrus/Creampuff: To him, he doesn’t really get the idea of the multiverse, but he knows the basic concepts fairly well. To hear that you confirm this theory just by existing and that you know every little detail about him as well? It’s... it’s mind boggling, quite honestly. He doesn’t know where to start with this new information, but he’s got to get to you first and talk to you. When you confirm that this is all true, and prove it to him by splurging a few details that no one except for Vanilla knew, Creampuff agrees to do what he can to help you. If you want to go back home, he’s saddened by that idea, but he’s willing to make sure that you get there safely. Of course, staying here is always an option too, and he would be nothing short of delighted to keep his best friend here. If you deny his help to try and get back, he’s going to talk to his brother to make sure that something gets done to get the multiverse back in order. 

“I WAS NOT AWARE THAT YOU WERE FROM SOME OTHER UNIVERSE, BUT... IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO STAY HERE, I WOULD WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!”

US Sans/Blue: You’re... you’re not from this universe?? At all??? That alone is something that makes him a little scared about how you got here and what you want. After he reads the whole letter though, even the part about you knowing everything about him doesn’t phase him anymore. You didn’t feel like you two could be friends since you had kept that a secret for so long, and Blue is not having that for a single second! He doesn’t care that you already know him super well, he doesn’t care about how you aren’t from this world though it does bother him just a little, he sees you as a friend who needs a hand to get back up because you’re clearly not feeling like yourself! He won’t really treat you any differently than before, but he will get very upset if you tell him that at some point you want to go back home. Blue gets very attached very easily to people, and since you’re his best friend.... 

“I DON’T WANT YOU TO THINK THAT I’M UPSET WITH YOU, QUITE THE OPPOSITE! I STILL WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU, IF YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME...”

US Papyrus/Stretch: To think that his best friend came from another universe is simultaneously amazing and terrifying to this skeleton. On one hand, you know everything about him and how he operates, but on the other, you’re the living embodiment of a working multiverse theory. He’s not going to stop you from leaving if that’s what you set out to do, but... he’s terrified of what this can mean. Stretch’s mind is now filled with all the possibilities that could happen out there in the universes and what could happen because of him. He’s supportive of you, but now there’s an air of caution around you, because he doesn’t know how to handle this new information really well. Give it some time if you stay, and he’ll come back around to being your friend again, even closer than before even.

“i, uh.... i dunno what exactly to say in this situation... but i know that you’re going to need me there for you in this, so i’m here.”

[graduationemmasep]

'I like the way MDMA gives you a deep sense of connection to your friends'

I'm no fiend. Most nights I'd rather share a bottle of wine with some friends than stay up till 6am getting sweaty and boggle-eyed on a bender. But while I associate alcohol with talking about past experiences, I associate drugs with making new ones. Party drugs can often make a stranger feel like a confidant; a simple trip to a town centre feel like an Enid Blyton escapade.

I probably take class-A party drugs such as MDMA or cocaine once a fortnight, and have done since I was 16 (I'm 27 now). I like the way cocaine gives you a new lease of life, like a mushroom in Super Mario, to carry on with a night out. I like the way MDMA softens the edges of reality and gives you a deep sense of connection to your friends that you can never get when you meet them for dinner and they moan about their jobs. I like how when you're coming down from a pill another person's touch has a comforting, almost electric capacity. If you're suffering from exhaustion, anxiety or stress, recreational drugs can give you a bit of a leg-up.

Drugs can also be a total pain. Ecstasy can make you feel like you're floating in a cloud, but just as often it's an admin nightmare: you come up at different times from your friends; only half the people in a group remembered to get sorted and there's endless hassle at a party trying to get more. Even when you're having a great time, there's a self-doubting internal monologue running through the whole process: Have I done enough? Am I coming up? Do I look like a prick?

I would just like to have that conversation about drugs being sometimes brilliant and occasionally annoying. Yet I feel like there is no one who is willing to talk about drugs in those terms.

When children ask their parents where babies come from, they get a white lie – a stork delivers them, you find them in a cabbage patch, you order them from Ocado. That's the closest thing I can think of to explain the difference between the perception and the reality of drug use by young people in the UK. There is a societal stork myth that is propagated by the media and popular culture to hide a basic reality. Even users themselves are entirely unwilling to talk about drug-taking honestly. Everything in the drugs world tries to stifle this conversation. Take nightclubs. It doesn't take a genius to work out that staying up till 6am listening to dance music at an ear-splitting volume would not only be unenjoyable without some kind of mind-altering stimulant, but a painful test of endurance. Most people in big nightclubs are on drugs. The clubs know that: that's why they charge so much for entry and, often, for bottles of water. They know that not many people will be buying drinks. Most of them have in-house dealers too, so they can sort out their DJs. Bigger DJs put requests for drugs on their rider. "We just put it on expenses as 'fruit and flowers'," a promoter at a major nightclub told me this year. But there's still a stork charade, with the venue covered in posters promising to eject drug users and bouncers searching punters – but not too thoroughly. The pretence is that this could all be above board.

I suppose the reason for this false picture of drug-taking is that most people don't take drugs. The statistics show that only a small fraction of the UK population are regular drugs users, and a smaller fraction still do anything harder than weed. But drug use is not spread evenly across the country, nor across age groups. In my demographic – under 30, living in London, job in the creative industries, disposable income – almost everyone is a recreational drugs user.

Where I grew up in south London, it was pretty uncommon to find someone who didn't at least smoke weed. The children of more middle-class parents were taking cocaine, ecstasy, ketamine and mephedrone almost every weekend. These were not reprobates ruining their lives: they were intelligent, bright people who got three As at A-level and went to good universities.

We would go to raves in places such as Camberwell and Hackney Wick, to warehouse venues where almost no one was over 18. White powders flowed as freely as the Fanta Fruit Twist and Malibu we were drinking. Festivals played a big part, too. Parents, even quite strict ones who wouldn't dream of letting their kids out past midnight, were happy to send their kids to music festivals, perhaps because of the reverent music-focused coverage in the media.

If you go to somewhere like Reading or Benicàssim, almost everyone is under 20. Half of them barely leave the campsite. Festivals are drugs playgrounds where teenagers experiment with copious amounts of uppers in presumably quite dangerous combinations. Some of the best moments of my life took place going to festivals as a teenager. I remember one muddy year at Glastonbury, racing down the hill arm-in-arm with a bunch of people, all off our faces on MDMA, feeling happier than I had ever felt. Another year, I remember taking mephedrone with a girl I fancied during Blur's headline set, both weeping with joy at a band we'd grown up with our whole lives.

Again, everyone knows this; no one thinks the thousands who watch the sunrise at the stone circle in Glastonbury every year are just on a high from seeing Mumford and Sons. But the festivals keep up the pretence that they are drug-free zones. Even a recent BBC3 show, Festivals, Sex and Suspicious Parents, which was supposed to show parents what their kids really got up to at festivals, ignored the fact that as the cameras panned around the festival, many revellers were plainly as high as a kite, their jaws swinging back and forth like pendulums, a side-effect of taking ecstasy. The voiceover just kept talking about people being "drunk".

I am also part of the first generation of people whose parents are likely to have been drug users. Of course, some adults would be outraged, like the parents on BBC3, to see what their kids got up to. But many more knew only too well – plenty of people I know would smoke weed or share dealers with their parents. In some families drug use had less stigma than smoking.

I thought all this was normal, but at university I met, for the first time, young people who totally abstained from drugs. They mostly came from outside major cities, or outside the UK, and many shivered in horror when they saw the rest of us dabbing our gums with mysterious white powders. I thought there would be a rift in social lives, an us-and-them situation, but it was around that time that mephedrone happened. Known by literally no young person ever as "meow meow", mephedrone was a legal high that changed attitudes towards drug-taking. Polite do-right kids who would never dream of taking illegal drugs were happy to chow down on bombs (self-made wontons of mephedrone powder wrapped in Rizla) like they were no more risqué than chocolate liqueurs.

Mephedrone was incredibly cheap – about a tenner a gram – and incredibly available. You could order it with next-day delivery to your university PO box. Mephedrone was a drugs phenomenon of which I have never seen the likes before or since. Everyone started doing it. I remember visiting a friend at Leeds University during this period. We went to a club and the queue for the men's bogs was at least 70 people long. When I finally got inside the place stunk of mephedrone, you could hear everyone loudly sniffing.

On nights out during this time, everyone would be raging – making out with one another, dancing with total abandon. But the comedowns were immediate and severe, far worse than ecstasy. By 4am people would be lying on the floor sharing the most intimate and personal shames and secrets, as if the drug was somehow compelling them to be honest. Some people called it a truth serum. Friendships were forged in the hot irons of that emotional exposition, as were the most horrendous hangovers.

Mephedrone was banned within two years of it taking off. People talk a lot about one legal high being banned only for another to take its place, but the real legacy of mephedrone was to numb the stigma of harder drugs. By the time I left university, many of the drug abstainers who had tried mephedrone became relaxed about most illegal drugs, too.

Ecstasy and mephedrone make it pretty hard to get much done in the days after taking them. You can't regularly use them and be a successful, functioning adult, so they become a rarer treat once you leave student life. In their 20s most people are overworked: they have second jobs and work incredibly long hours. If they're going to go out on a Friday night they need a pick-me-up. And that is why cocaine remains the young professional's drug of choice.

I see cocaine usage almost every weekend wherever I go: clubs, pubs, people's houses, dinner parties. At fancy celebrity parties, the sort you see on Mail Online, cocaine is so prevalent that it's almost boring. Everyone does it – butter-wouldn't-melt TV presenters, wholesome pop stars adored by your mum, people who would immediately lose their job if anyone found out. Those tabloid stings where they catch someone doing cocaine are kind of hilarious in that respect. If you followed any celebrity around with a secret camera on a Friday night you'd be almost guaranteed to find them doing coke. But cocaine users are like hipsters in the way they will vehemently deny they are one, and cast aspersions on others. "It was just full of self-aggrandising wankers doing coke and talking about themselves," someone will say about a party where they did cocaine and talked about themselves. Most of my friends are cocaine users, but I've never heard them say one nice thing about cocaine.

No doubt some people will have read this piece and think that I am just a monstrous twat, that this has all been little more than infantile boasting in a vain attempt to try to sound cool. But that, too, is part of the cover-up, that any open discussion of using drugs or enjoying them is necessarily a boast. We can talk about great food, great films, great sex, but if we talk about great drugs we immediately sound like we're engaging in some teenage bravado. That's why the biggest taboo surrounding drugs today isn't taking drugs, but saying that they're fun.

I'm not saying that people are lying about the negative effects. I have, of course, seen lives ruined by drugs. Rarely has this been because of an overdose or because someone has ruined themselves financially because of addiction (although I am only 27 – that may yet come). Far more often I have just seen people become dulled through regular drug use: their youthful spark extinguished by a never-ceasing quest to get on it; brains frazzled by overheated synapses. There are friends I want to slap every time I see them doing another line, but I can't because that would be hypocritical.

I also appreciate that's it's easy to be blasé about drug use when you're a well-adjusted middle-class white guy who has never been stopped by the police and has a distant non-social relationship with their drug dealer. For many people, drugs aren't something they can dip in and out of and separate from their lives. People entangled in the economic and legal realities of drugs – dealers, those convicted of possession, addicts – don't have the luxury of my relaxed attitude.

But until we stop pretending that getting high is inherently bad – that drugs can never be brilliant, can never enhance human experience for the better – how can we properly deal with people whose lives have been made worse by drugs? At some point, kids grow up and learn the facts of life. I think it's time we all had the talk.

[thatyanderecritic]

Stolen: A letter to my Captor

Title: Stolen: A letter to my Captor

Media: Novel, Written by Lucy Christopher

Yandere(s): Tyler “Ty” MacFarlane

Yandere Scale: 5/5

Criticism written by: Kai

Editor: Julie

The Review:

When Julie and I first got this story recommendation, we were admittedly terrified in what we would uncover. We were still recovering from the horrors that was Deathless...So, we were skeptical about any book recommendations we would get. But to our surprise, Stolen contained one of the best yanderes we have seen to date. We were both fascinated by Ty and fell in love with him. Truth be told, Ty now has the “#1 Yandere” trophy from ThatYandereCritic. It’s official y’all. Let’s review, Stolen: A letter to my Captor

Now then, if anyone wants to read the sparknotes for this story, you can find it here. I should warn you all that the creator of this sparknotes is a highly opinionated normie. So just read it for the straight up facts and ignore the snarky comments the writer likes to make in the summary. And for those who don’t want to read the sparknotes, here’s the TL;DR of the story. On a trip with her family to Vietnam, Gemma was drugged and kidnapped by Ty. He takes her all the way to a home he built in the Australian outback; miles away from the nearest city. Of course, Gemma goes ballistic and tries multiple escape attempts. But of course, she fails each time due to her stupidity or lack of ability to escape. And with each escape attempt, Ty is there to rescue her. Eventually, Stockholm Syndrome kicks in and Gemma falls in love with Ty. But ever suffering from Stupid Protagonist Syndrome, Gemma gets bitten by a venomous snake because she’s running around barefoot like a goddamn animal. Knowing that Gemma needs a doctor, Ty drives Gemma all the way back to civilization. Being a true MVP that he was, Ty even went with Gemma on the plane so that she isn’t lonely; taking the risk of getting arrested. Ty is convicted and sent to jail while Gemma is trying to get over her Stockholm Syndrome by writing Ty letters. Still mind boggling that an educated 16 year old doesn’t know what Stockholm Syndrome is till a psychiatrist told her. Weird flex but okay.

Stolen reminds me very much of the TV show You (that we reviewed awhile back). Both stories have fantastic yanderes but have the worst female protagonist. While Gemma wasn’t as bad as Beck, Gemma reminded me of a more tamed version of Beck. As Julie said, “The yanderes always fall for the stupid ones.” Seriously, Gemma doesn’t bring anything new to the table for “female protagonist in yandere stories”. The only thing unique was that she had Stockholm Syndrome but unfortunately that didn’t last long. Sigh… the normies strike again (I’m joking. Put down your pitchforks). From a normal person’s perspective, they probably view Gemma as a sympathetic character. Honestly, not really hard to imagine the message this book is trying to send. Lucy wasn’t exactly subtle with her message of “the blurring of lines and how an author can romanticize horrifying events.”  But here at ThatYandereCritic, we’re looking at this with the lenses of “yandere fans”. So let’s chuck that “rational” view right out the window! Let me take a moment to talk about Gemma. While Gemma might not be the worst female protagonist out there (Beck from You takes that cake), she is quite up there on the list. She’s a bit irrational at times, doesn’t act like an educated human being, and a bit overly emotional. Like, come on. Who walks around barefoot in a hot desert like a goddamn cretin? And it’s not like she has the excuse that she’s used to the area. She had a pampered life back in London for crying out loud! As a person who actually grew up in the desert, everything Gemma does isn’t logical for a matter of survival. And this isn’t information reserved for people living in the desert. Let me tell you, I can count the number of times I ran around barefoot outside in the desert. It isn’t fun and you’re quick to learn to wear shoes. You want to know what happens when you’re walking around barefoot in 100 degree weather? The skin at your feet start peeling a shit ton and you have actual burns on the base of your feet. It’s not impossible to walk but it’s like you have millions of needles under your feet and that you need to remove your skin to have some relief. Need I say more? So an elegant miss like Gemma would be freaking the fuck out running barefoot all the time. And she absolutely does not get a “dumb pass” because she’s still young. She’s 16. Not fucking 12. She should at least have a sense of self preservation and learn from her mistakes. Unless… education back in the UK is that bad? Hey UK fans out there! Is the schooling system that bad? I thought the US education is shit but this book is making me have some questions. Mind you, this was published in 2009. So the time period would be somewhere in the 2000’s. So this isn’t a scenario where you could say “It was a different time back then. Education was different.” But enough about Gemma, let’s finally move to the main dish: Ty. Ho ho boy was he a treat. He was an absolute sweetheart ever since the beginning of the book. First, it’s very clear that he’s lovesick. Ty stalked Gemma for six years, plotted her kidnapping for two years, saved her from almost getting raped, and more. When researching this novel, I saw several reviews state that Ty has “mood swings” but to be honest, Ty’s emotional responses were pretty rational. Gemma acted like a moronic animal and then Ty got angry at her actions. Seems pretty normal to me. But more than anything, what was telling about Ty is how he handled it. The way these other reviewers described his “mood swings”, I thought he would lash out at Gemma like a sadistic yandere. But nope! Ty handled his anger like a champ and put it into something productive. For example: Gemma was terrified shitless when she entered a dark room with Ty. Ty tells her not to panic and not to move till he turns on the light. You know what she does? She freaks the fuck out and makes a mess. Turning on the light, it’s revealed that he was painting in the room and Gemma ruined the painting Ty been working on for days. It was cleared that Ty was angry, but he never lashed out at her. Instead, he started crying and looked at the bright side of things by saying, “Well, I guess you made the painting even better since I love you.”

Seriously, I know many artists who would fucking murder you if you pulled some shit like that. Ty was nothing but a sweetheart to Gemma and was trying to look out for her the best way he could. Ty is a prime example on how a character can be a yandere without necessarily being violent. Hell, Ty doesn’t even have a “Yandere Snap” moment but was still a fantastic yandere.  He was never violent with Gemma (besides carrying her around).  He was even willing to take her back to the city in four months if Gemma really hated the outback. I will admit he was a bit odd mentally… making me think he’s an Australian version of Tarzan. But it wasn’t bad. He wasn’t so far off that you couldn’t understand him. In fact, you’re able to sympathize with him, which was great. Ty isn’t exactly a Redeemed Yandere, but he is a Good Yandere. He was a yandere that doesn’t really change, but he has Gemma interest at heart. He was even willing to go with her even though he knows that he’ll get arrested. What a good yandere *cries*. I guess the only bad thing about Ty is the fact that he’s sort of a… pedophile? He’s 26 and Gemma is 16. He started stalking her when she was 6. Personally, I wished that he took her when she was 18 to make this less weird. But I guess you can’t win everything when it comes to yandere stories, huh? There always got to be something. But after Happy Sugar Life, I’m not even surprised anymore. Sigh...

To finish this review, I do want to say that it was neat that Gemma got Stockholm Syndrome. It’s rare to see that with yandere stories for us. But unfortunately, Ty never got his happy ending and Gemma didn’t lie at court. Drat *snaps finger*. But anyways, there’s the tea Stolen. Can’t say the story itself was good. While the second person point of view was a neat gimmick, Gemma’s monkey brain narration was unbearable. You can’t exactly enjoy Ty as a yandere with Gemma being so hostile tbh. I guess she becomes bearable once she gets stockholm syndrome but ain’t nobody got time for that. Reading the sparknotes was much more interesting since we got straight into the action and minus the bullshit. Bonus is that there’s a lot less snark compared to the actual book! Nice!

(Post edit: Julie here, I just want to say that Ty was a man that was after my own heart. As for Gemma...We could do better in terms of a female protagonist)

Overall Score: 8/10

[wildernessuntothemselves]

1.☕what is your opinion on transgenderism? I have a bisexual friend and another pansexual friend, they can't come out to public so they've only come out to some people who they trust, including me (i'm straight). So this one time we all sat down with couple other people in which, one is a big gay shipper fan, and two others who are homophobes (they don't know about my other friends being bi and pan).

2.☕It all started with us discussing about trangenders and they all shared their opinions about how they think it's not right and that it means they don't accept themselves at all etc. I personally have no opinion about trans people, i believe everybody must do whatever satisfies them. Most girls are fond of makeup because it makes us feel beautiful and better about ourselves, so transgenders are doing the same as well.3.☕The topic later drifted to gays and lesbians. That is when it triggered me the most because those same "friends" of mine who always showed their pride of being lgbt to me and our other friends, were being complete hypocrite infront of those homophobes. They were expressing all kinds of hate about gay people, including the girl who ships gay people all the time. I thought they were just saying it 'cause the homophobes were with us but they said they actually meant it when i asked them later.4. ☕Like how tf are you even a part of such a thing when you hate on it ? I don't know whom to trust anymore tbh 'cause even if i'm not lgbt, i don't just go around hating on it. *sigh* oh well now that was a big one ☕ i'm sorry tho 😂 This is a long one so I’ll answer it under the cut

First off, as regards to your friends that is very strange. I’d understand if they had unresolved issues about their sexuality but you said they’re proud of being lgbt so I don’t get it. But I guess many people are contradictory and they may have conflicting feelings about it like women being misogynistic. However it’s disgusting to engage in any type of hate speech for whatever reason (other than to cover for yourself if you’re in a dangerous situation). As for my opinion of transexuality. I honestly still haven’t come to a conclusion yet and I probably won’t for some time. Half of me supports them and half of me doesn’t so here are some of the thoughts that run through my head1. where is the line between gender as a social construct and gender as a biological thing. You mentioned makeup but makeup being a girl thing is totally a social construct, so are dresses, the color pink, having long hair, etc. There is nothing inherently feminine or masculine about these stuff so is a male who likes to “be” feminine a girl in a boy’s body or just a boy who likes feminine things? where is the line that after it you’re considered transgender? Is it just the “feeling” of being a girl? but what does that mean really? 2. is it a mental disorder? I know some people stopped reading already but for those who continue please hear me out. I know how much the lgbt community loathes being made to have a mental disorder and I understand that. This is a mixed point. On the one hand I know that people who are attracted to the same sex like myself were (and are) called mentally ill and unnatural like transgender people are but for me transgenderism (is that a word?) is closer to body dysmorphia than homosexuality. There are people in this world who want to cut off their arm bec they feel like they’re amputee and they can’t stand having this arm. Do we as doctors just go ahead and chop off their arm for them? No we treat their mental illness. So if you say that you’re actually a girl and you want us to chop off your penis don’t we have to think about it first? As a doctor this dilemma really bothers me bec here I am chopping off a perfectly healthy and functional body part and permanently mutilating a person’s body based on their psychological state. Isn’t this against our oaths? 3. Hormones ESPECIALLY for young kids. It boggles my mind that some parents actually give their kids puberty blockers and stuff like that KIDS hormones aren’t a harmless thing not only physically but also mentally. As you can see my main issue with transgenderism is the medical interventions sometimes employed for them. I think we as the medical community need to do much more extensive research into the matter before we start hacking up people or giving them dangerous drugs4. ok so what about transgender people who don’t transition, Again I think we need to look into why they don’t feel like they’re their biological sex and what really is gender and see if we can reconcile this5. intersex people and 3rd genders in certain cultures also make me lean towards transgenderism/transsexuality being a normal thing. I need to read more about them. I’m a very scientific person so for me the most important thing is to do research to get to the bottom of this and find out where the issue lies and if transitioning improves the person’s mental health long term or if it doesn’t have an effect/makes it worse. Honestly I’m willing to accept the results either way bec even tho my points make it seem like I’m very anti-trans, I’m really just conflicted bec of my job. I want to help people not cause them more harm. 

[bffhreprise]

Best Friend For Hire Reprise, Entry 368

 I hugged Jarod when he arrived at my door and was immediately hugged by his wife and sister-in-law too.  Then the three moved onto my wife.  Before I could shut the door, more vehicles pulled up to the house, and I couldn’t help staring.  Out from the large truck and other vehicles came James and a bunch of people I didn’t know.  Jarod had told me that some people from his job volunteered to help us move, but…  these people looked like models… and at least half were girls.  Would they be able to carry much of anything?

 “Have you toured the new house yet?” inquired…  either Jarod’s wife or the sister.  I couldn’t tell.  The two were too identical, even dressing the same yet again.

 “A little.  We kept meaning to look around more, but things just haven’t worked out.” replied Becky while I was still trying to figure out to whom I was speaking.  My wife was always more willing to dive right into things, and Jarod taking after her in that was a good thing.

 “Becky, you simply must see it before we haul everything inside.” insisted the other twin.  “James, you’ll supervise the rest, won’t you?”

 As I turned around to see that James had reached me, he was already nodding.  “Sure thing.  Let Jarod explain all of the new bells and whistles while we tidy things up here.” he assured us.

 “I feel like we’re imposing on all of you enough already.” I told him guiltily, realizing I missed the stream of people entering my house.  All of these people worked for James, and could be out making money for his business instead of bothering with us.

 “No imposition at all.” insisted James, smiling at me.  “Everyone here volunteered, so just be grateful that your son has so many friends.”

 “One of us really should stay to get all of the boxes labeled.” pointed out Becky, looking worried as well.

 “I’ll label them!” exclaimed a cute girl in garishly mismatched clothes.  She barely even came up to the top of my leg.  “I’m an expert labeler, I promise!”

 “You’re so sweet.” stated Becky, bending down to pat the girl’s head.

 “She actually is.” insisted Jarod, not seeming to just be meaning that the girl was sweet.  “You’d be amazed how much I’ve learned from her in the past year.  Her gaming company alone is worth a fortune, and she constantly puts out patents for crazy inventions.”

 “Plus, she makes money from the Intergalactic House of Awesome Sauce due to some design work she did for them.  Really, there’s no need to worry about us.  I do know this house fairly well, after all.” put in James right behind my son.

 Since I met James, arguing with him had always been difficult.  He was talented, charming, and always did seem to know how to get a job done.  I nearly laughed at my own thoughts as I considered that he was running a multi-million dollar business of his own now.  “Well, your group does seem really organized.  I suppose we can be the first off.  Here’s a key to lock up.” I told him as I handed over the key to my home… my old home.  So many years in this house, and now we were moving.

 “Awesome.  You’re going to love this!” exclaimed Jarod with a big grin.  He had bought our new house after becoming a millionaire himself.  Kids these days…  He and James hadn’t even attended college—well, not a normal college—and were already…  I sighed and put an arm around my wife as we headed to the door behind Jarod, Ai, and Mai.  Things sure changed quickly.

 Even my son’s Mustang wasn’t the same anymore.  The old dash had some sort of digital display in it now.

 “We’ll follow.” he insisted, motioning for me to take the lead.

 I nodded, got in my car with Becky, and hit the road.  Our new house wasn’t terribly far away, right next to James and Rachel Somerset.  Young James’ parents were good people, and I always did get along well with them.  James Senior had always treated me as a respected businessman despite my shop not pulling in near as much as his hotel chain.  Of course, he didn’t actually own that anymore.  The younger James had bought out the older one already.  Our kids were moving so fast that I could get whiplash if I tried to follow them.

 “Unlike our old house,” started Jarod quite broadly after we were both parked and out of our cars, “ your new house doesn’t require a key.   Mila knows who you are and will open the door for you as you approach.  No more worries about lost keys or arms full of groceries.”  He demonstrated, walking up to the door as the door got out of his way.

 The tour continued with Jarod pointing out the changes he had made during the renovations.  A number of things here were done personally by him, so he had a right to be proud.  My son had gone from helping me with cars to designing things I could scarcely believe were real.

 “That’s really a TV?” questioned Becky as Jarod was offering to dispose of our old television for us.

 “All of the mirrors in the house can act as TVs.  Just tell Mila what you want to watch, and she’ll find it for you, perfectly legal and provided through James’ company.  You can even watch movies that are still in theater, since Aaliyah arranged the company’s viewing rights for it.” he told us, his grin growing wider again at the surprise on our faces.

 “Aaliyah, that little girl, is the one who arranged it?” questioned Becky, beating me to the punch again.

 Jarod nodded, his grin slipping away.  “You just have to take her abilities on faith, sadly.  Well, faith and my word.”

 “Ours too.  Among other things, Aaliyah is a lawyer, scientist, engineer, and software developer.  If she were giving this explanation instead of Jarod, you’d probably be hearing about how each individual circuit worked.” explained one of the twins.

 “At least that much.  She enjoys over-explaining everything.” the other stated with a frown.

 Jarod laughed as he said, “That she does.”

 The tour continued with Jarod telling us everything from how Mila will gladly tell us where anything we misplaced to Mila’s abilities in helping us schedule anything we like.  His explanations were put on hold as Becky and I gaped at the people already hauling our furniture into the house, easily fitting it through our large front door.

 “How…” I started to ask.

 James winked and said, “To make money in my business, we have to be quick and efficient with the simple jobs.”

 “James has become a bit of a show off.” teased Jarod with a grin for his friend.

 “A bit?” questioned one of the twins.

 Shaking her head, the other exclaimed “Understatement of the year!”

 “Well, don’t I feel loved.  Offer a little help and get picked on.” complained James, poorly making an attempt at a frown.

 “Oh, we appreciate you.” I insisted in his defense, but my eyes were glued to the two tiny blonde girls hauling our sofa with ease.  That thing had to weigh at least...

 “They work out!” exclaimed even tinier Aaliyah as she grinned back at me from where she was giving directions by the door.

 “How do you know the floorplan so well?” I asked, having overheard her.

 “Schematics!” she happily exclaimed.

 “I owe her the biggest birthday cake this year.” stated James as he watched her fondly.

 “Oh!  Is it your birthday?” asked Becky  When Aaliyah nodded, she asked “How old are you?”

 “Thirteen!” exclaimed Aaliyah.

 “Uh…” I started, trying to fit the numerous job titles with that undersized barley-a-teenager.

 “No, really.  She’s a teenager.” insisted James.

 “Let’s get back on track with the tour!  I still haven’t shown you the security system.” stated Jarod as he motioned everyone to follow.

 He continued, getting a bit too technical for us at times.  Luckily, Ai or Mai always stepped in to interrupt himi when he did.  I honestly couldn’t remember to which girl he was married at the moment, but either made a good match.

 When we were still in the home theater area—Jarod had stopped to hook up our Blu-Ray player for us while telling us we wouldn’t really need it anymore when it was delivered to the room—a large redheaded guy that looked far more suited for carrying than those girls earlier came striding into the room.

 “All finished, boss!” he exclaimed.

 “Excellent.  Mila should be bringing my car around, so you all can get on with your day.” replied James with a smile.

 The redhead didn’t need to be told twice.  After nodding to James and waving to us, he was off.

 “That was really quick.” stated Becky in surprise.

 “They set some stuff up for you too!” exclaimed Aaliyah as she rounded a corner.

 “I swear they work twice as fast when I’m not looking, which is a bit vexing.  Shouldn’t I get to yell at them for slacking?” teased James.

 Laughing, I told him “You have a great crew, James.  Jarod’s told me before that I could call when I’m shorthanded, but…”  I shrugged, not really having a good reason not to have tried.  “I might just do that sometime.”

 “I can assure you that Jarod hasn’t lost his touch as a mechanic.” replied James with a grin.

 I laughed again.  Then I said, “Yeah, that’s for sure.  He tells me a little here and there.”

 After shaking hands with my wife and me, James lifted up Aaliyah.  “I best be off as well to get this little one her cake.  Her father will be expecting us soon.” he insisted, easily holding the small girl in one arm.

 “Thanks again for all of the help, James!  We miss having you stop by the house.” insisted Becky.

 “You’re always free to visit us as well, you know.  My parents come over fairly regularly, so you could always ride together now that you’re neighbors.  They won’t mind.” he reminded us.

 Nodding, I said, “I’m sure we’ll be spending more time with your parents.  They’re supposed to stop by tomorrow.  Said they wanted to give us a little something as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

 He smiled, waved along with Aaliyah, and took off.  Jarod, Ai, and Mai stuck around for a while, going through the rooms and making sure we liked how everything was arranged.  Everything was even unpacked for us, save for our clothes and a few valuables that had a “Leave closed!” sticker on them.  How the crew managed to do so much so quickly was mind-boggling, but I wasn’t about to complain.

 “If you want any new furniture, I really suggest getting it through Best Friend For Hire as well.  Mila will be glad to show you pricing of whatever you’d like as well as a 3D model of the furniture wherever you might want it, won’t you, Mila?” asked Jarod, smiling as she agreed.

 “When he says ‘whatever you’d like’, he means custom made to your specifications.” stated one of the twins.

 “Emma is the best carpenter you’ll ever meet, and my husband can fabricate everything else in his lab.  Mila, will you render this for this for Mom and Dad?” asked my new daughter.  Barely waiting for a reply, she went on, saying, “Octagonal table, two feet in height, five feet across, glass top, and a black stand made with geometric wire patterns.”

 The image appeared instantly on one of the mirrors by us.

 The other twin then said, “Now add a matching sofa around it, your choice.”

 “Wow.  With her in the shop, things would…” I started before my son interrupted me.

 “Finally going to agree to an upgrade there?” asked Jarod with a smile.

 I stopped and looked from him to the display and back.  “Let’s talk about the price.” I told him, knowing I’d be an even worse fool to turn him down again.  My son had always been incredible, learning things far more quickly than I ever had.  I turned him down before because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to afford the expense, but I had to trust that he already thought of that if I was going to be reasonable.  Yep, the time had come for changes in my life.

[seenashwrite]

WORKS IN PROGRESS ✒️

A master post I’ll update as needed with the scoop on what’s up with both your favorite series/mini-series & what’s on deck - it’ll be linked at both the main index & the mobile master list for your curiosity convenience.

*~* COMING SOON *~*

The Cupid Complication

This is for my Secret Valentine this year, though it’ll be out the day prior for Galentine’s Day, and I bet you can divine from the title that it’ll be a crazy, fun time for the guys (and “you”!).

.

Top of the World

The re-launch is coming, and with it a really killer page, full of images, a cast of characters section, and a chapter guide. It is now split into three "seasons”: Revelation, which is completed, followed by Heritage and Legion. Get ready.

6 Feb 19 - This is my baby. I still work on it/the awesome page for it weekly. I don’t know when the relaunch for book two is coming. I just don’t know.

.

The Lore You Know

Part Five done, just one more and then the epilogue for TOTW readers.

6 Feb 19 - The final part is mostly fleshed-out; the epilogue I don’t know, since I’ve had to put off the big relaunch for TOTW

.

#Nash300

Several prompts still in the ol’ drafts folder - I haven’t forgotten! Just gotta wait for inspo to strike! And sometimes I work these into other stories, so there’s that.

6 Feb 19 - Same, no change. When it hits me, it hits me. 

.

*~* ON DECK *~*

See above - TLYK and the V-day fic are all that’s on deck for the immediate future.

.

*~* EVENTUALLY *~*

---> A fun one-shot about THIS, wherein a dismembered colleague of the guys has a hell of a time, um.... getting it together HAHAHA wow that was lame.

6 Feb 2019 - This ^^^ is presently on hold. No one has my permission to use this plot bunny. I’ve given some away in the past. This isn’t one of those times. I’ve talked about this one before over the past couple years, I’ve still yet to see anything like it, so I better not see it within my circle/network because I’ll know where it came from. You’ve been warned (....she said seriously but kindly).

,

---> #Nash’s 6 for 600 that rapidly turned into #Nash’s 666

This’n will take awhile.... but the rough draft’s there... I’m working on getting it reeeaaally tight, as I kinda didn’t mean for the celebration to entail all this, but hell, why not?

5 Aug 2018 - I was clear in the initial post (see screencap below) that the celebration was to be peeps tossing out six word stories. Some people misunderstood. I felt like I should do what they wanted, and that’s on me. I took a ton of time whipping up a video and fleshing out a story. I’m not doing this any longer. The celebration is over, this is complete, it is what I said it would be. I’m leaving the initial post alone for transparency (I am *so* not in the mood for being told I wasn’t clear; it was clear) but amending any related posts/master lists/master posts so no new readers feel misled. 

.

*~* WHO KNOWS? *~*

Build Me Up, Buttercup

This one *does* occasionally call my name, it’s a great thing for me when I’m in a giddy mood and have insomnia - the time suck is (A) giving y’all some fun images, and (B) re-reading parts of the book to make sure I’m nailing it. But I’ve long had the book’s/movie’s parts divided into documents for each installment, so that sucker’s planned. Just depends on time! 

5 Aug 2018 -  Don’t get your heart set on it ever being finished. I know I chose to incorporate the book and not just the movie, and I know I chose to create *incredibly* time-consuming images and such, and now I’m choosing to stop. I don’t know what else to tell you. I may change my mind, may not. Sorry to those of you who genuinely like it. It was meant to be a quick one-shot thing (1st part), just a little parody-spoof. It’s not getting enough feedback - enough of a work:feedback ratio - to spur me to continue. 

That’s all to report for now, folks! Thanks for reading!

* Note: The reason for my blunt tone in some of these updates likely doesn’t have to do with you personally - last fall, I was treated, upon reflection, way too harshly for a couple things I did.

One was a post I’d made (since deleted, though I kept the screencaps/receipts of what was said on both sides) on the topic of lack of feedback to stories. Some of what I said was admittedly ill-phrased, but the overall message was clear, and was willfully misunderstood. For one example, accused of saying that I was “owed” praise, which I never said. For another example, one of the things I suggested were templates (fill-in-the-blank things, so that they could be personalized) for feedback for those persons who are shy, nervous about engaging, or simply believe they are not good at communicating, but who want to express their love of a story - so another thing I was accused of was telling people what to say. That’s what I mean by willful misunderstanding. Learned lesson, and while I may agree with/reblog/support fellow writers who discuss this topics in their own posts, I’m 99% sure I’ll personally never discuss this topic again. But it will always boggle my mind that people think it’s cool to not say at minimum “thank you” for an unexpected gift they received that they enjoyed. No one is too shy or too nervous or think they’re too poor at communication to simply say “Thank you, this was great”. It’s a bullshit excuse. Just say “Thank you”. Anybody - from toddlers on up  - can say “Thank you”, and anybody who has reading comprehension and understands a reblog button and how these blogs work can say (type) a simple “Thank you”.

Secondly, around this same time, I had sent an encouraging message to someone about considering putting a great tale they’d written into its own post, as opposed to leaving it on the reblog they’d used, so they’d get credit for their great work vs. the “likes” and reblogs getting mixed in with the ones for the gif set they’d written it on, because I’d love to put it on my rec list and get them some circulation. The bizarre vitriol I received in response (complete with name-calling and presumptions about my intent) were beyond the pale (and I showed others to check myself, and they agreed it was - have to use this word again - bizarre), and so I basically learned my lesson about trying to encourage people to have a new post for their work. So that’s why the tone - again, it’s not directly toward you, personally. It’s just me not beating around the bush.

.

Updated: 6 Feb 2019

[tomfooleryprime]

Starfleet’s moral relativism problem: is it ever okay to condemn another culture?

Central to all of Star Trek has always been the Prime Directive – that set of rules that governs our intrepid space explorers from Captain Kirk to Captain Janeway and everyone in between. Poor Captain Archer existed in a time before, and I’ve often pitied him for having to shoulder the burden of having to make some really questionable ethical decisions without having a Prime Directive to shift the blame to when it turned out his decisions really sucked.

At its core, the Prime Directive dictates that Starfleet cannot interfere with the internal affairs or development of alien civilizations. Some of the best Star Trek episodes involved our heroes clashing with the ethics of a rigid application of this doctrine, but there was always one implication of the Prime Directive that bothered me – the idea that we shouldn’t judge other cultures through the lens of our own because who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong?

This philosophy of moral relativism argues that there are no universal moral standards – sentient beings are completely at the mercy of their own societies to impart a code of moral behavior and whatever it comes up with is “good enough.” There may be common themes among many societies in terms of morals – most seem to agree it is wrong to commit murder, for instance – but ultimately, what is “right” according one society is not guaranteed to be “right” for another. And let’s be honest with ourselves – even with the topic of murder, we still fiercely debate exceptions to the “no murder” rule such as war, capital punishment, or self-defense, not to mention we have heated arguments over what even constitutes murder when we discuss issues of abortion or animal agriculture.

Our own society provides an incredible patchwork of thorny moral and ethical issues that we still have yet to decide upon. We debate things like abortion, torture, slavery, free speech, and more. We probe these issues by asking ourselves questions like, “At what point does life truly begin?” and “Is torture ever justified?” We explore them by posing philosophical experiments like the Trolley Problem and asking ourselves whether it is morally acceptable to kill one person to save the lives of two or more others.

But at the end of the day, might (in terms of numbers) makes right in moral relativism. While I don’t subscribe to that theory, there are times when our beloved Star Trek characters do under the guise of defending the Prime Directive. On the surface, it sounds very peaceful and anti-colonialist. After centuries of watching many empires from the Romans to the British set fire to cultural diversity – and given arguments that many Western nations continue to do this today, just without being quite as invadey – this sounds like a nice change of pace. Live and let live. But this also creates a mind-boggling acceptance of suffering, genocide, exploitation, and oppression within Starfleet.

One of the first chronological examples of the faults of moral relativism is found in the Star Trek: Enterprise episode, “Cogenitor.” Archer and his crew meet an affable, three-gendered species called the Vissians, but we quickly learn that only two of the society’s genders have any real rights. The third gender is referred to as a “cogenitor,” and Trip Tucker ends up on Captain Archer’s shit list for teaching it how to read and putting ideas in its head. When the cogenitor later begs for asylum, Archer refuses. It gets worse – the cogenitor is sent back to the people who basically treat it as chattel and commits suicide, and Archer points out that Tucker’s interference led to its death and will mean the Vissian couple will probably never get to have a child. No winners in this ethical dilemma of an episode, only losers. Until you remember none of this would have happened in the first place if the Vissians had just treated the cogenitors like people.

In the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Angel One,” we encounter the cringe worthy society of Angel I, a planet of misandric women who oppress men. We all got a few giggles at the ladies of Enterprise-D being suddenly held in higher regard than their male counterparts, but things get very dark when Beata, the Elected One of Angel I, decides some dudes need to die for spreading heretical teachings that imply men are equal to women. We get a sort of cop out solution in which Beata has a change of heart and decides to banish rather than execute these “heretics” after Riker makes an impassioned speech about basic rights, but Riker was more than willing to let things go bad if need be, because, “The Prime Directive” and “Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s wrong.” In another Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Symbiosis,” we’re introduced to the Ornarans and Brekkians and we find out that after an ancient plague, the Brekkians started peddling an expensive and addictive drug to the Ornarans and calling it a “treatment.” There’s no plague anymore – the Brekkians just control the Ornarans through their drug addiction. Dr. Crusher finds a way to synthesize this drug and offers to help wean the Ornarans off their addiction, but what does Captain Picard do? He tells her to mind her own damn business because it’s not the Federation’s place to tell the Brekkians that it’s wrong to deceive and enslave the Ornarans through an addictive drug. And this is the most uncomfortable part of moral relativism – who gets to draw the line and where do we draw it? On one end of the spectrum, we have moral relativism which claims anything goes – societies should be able to torture animals, employ the slave labor of children, and oppress women as they see fit – just as long as enough people agree it isn’t wrong to do so. At the other end of the spectrum sits moral absolutism, a theoretical construct that would result in a perfectly unified, homogenous culture, but one that would also strip away many facets of culture that lead to human diversity.

If Star Trek is supposed to serve as a guide for how we might become a more progressive society, it does a terrible job a lot of the time. Now, there are many instances of our protagonists saying “to hell with the Prime Directive!” and taking what most of us would agree is the more morally praiseworthy route. But there’s no rhyme or reason to it. Just look at how they treat the Borg. Why is it okay to let some societies oppress men or drug another species into submission but it’s not okay to let the Borg assimilate the galaxy in their ultimate quest for perfection?

I’m going to guess the answer is that until the Borg decided to stick nanoprobes in a Federation citizen, the cheerful little robots simply weren’t the Federation’s problem. We might argue that the Prime Directive certainly has provisions for self-defense — how ridiculous would it be to consent to being annihilated or assimilated just because the Federation is afraid of offending another culture and refuses to draw a line in the sand where right stops and wrong starts? The slope gets slippery here though.

We could say this mirrors the concept of large Western nations trying to police the rest of the world and impose their customs on other societies - but how many of us watched documentaries about the Holocaust in school and wondered why the hell previous generations allowed shit to get that bad? How many of us continue to stand by while people in Iraq and Syria live under the threat of the Islamic State? I doubt most people even realize what’s going on in the Philippines or Venezuela right now because hey, “Not my country, not my problem.”

It is a huge gray area for what constitutes forcing certain customs on unwilling societies and trying to genuinely help people, but if we can’t agree that Nazi extermination camps and religiously motivated beheadings are bad and need to stop (even when they aren’t happening to us personally), I’ll be surprised if we ever make to the 24th century. It makes me wonder how exactly Earth “solved its problems” and created a utopian society in the first place with this attitude of moral relativism.

Let’s face it – we have no shortage of modern travesties that sound ridiculous in the context of this philosophical approach. The Chechen Republic has been reportedly rounding up gay men and torturing them in recent months, and moral relativism would have us shrug and say, “But their culture says homosexuality is a sin.”

Bacha bazi, a practice where adolescent boys are groomed for sexual relationships with older men, remains pervasive in many Pashtun societies. Moral relativism would tell us that we shouldn’t condemn predatory pedophilia because to do so would mean unfairly imposing our Western beliefs on their culture.

I could keep going on, but this post is already long enough. The bottom line is, all too often, Star Trek lazily glosses over a lot of moral and ethical dilemmas by using the argument, “Who are we to judge?” June is Pride Month, and in honor of LGBT individuals all over the globe who all too often have less rights than their cisgender heterosexual counterparts, maybe we should avoid looking to the “progressive” future of Star Trek and instead ask the question, “Who are we to not judge?”

While I can’t resolve one of the greatest philosophical questions ever devised, someone once gave me a great piece of advice that I think applies to this idea of moral relativism: no person’s belief is inherently worthy of respect, but every person is.

[loopy777]

Which character you think is the biggest victim of Yang biased writing? Aang, Azula, or other characters? (I'm so interested in your criticism and commentary )

Well, I wrote a whole essay about Ursa, so I think she wins by default. XD

However, to be sure, let’s go through the whole list of major characters:

Azula: While I don’t like the way Azula herself has been regressed on her character journey, I don’t think she’s been damaged by Gene’s writing. I actually think he has a fairly good grasp of her characterization, preserving her tactical genius, and making her a functional driver of Story while still dealing with her mental issues. Fixing the problems with her is just a matter of moving her forward, something that can be done while still keeping her as an antagonist.

Mai: I think Mai has escaped unscathed. I'm not a fan of the way the Maiko breakup has been written, but it has nothing to do with Mai. She's been true to form, reacting reasonably to Zuko's bad characterization, and hasn't been blamed unfairly for the breakup or written to give up her understandable complaints for the sake of a happy reconciliation. Heck, I almost wonder if the breakup hasn't been going on this long because Gene wrote himself into a corner and can't figure out how to fix it without either compromising Mai's character or bashing his own characterization of Zuko. My only complaint about Mai's portrayal is that Gene is going a bit overboard in showing her loyalty and love for her family, but considering Mai's reputation with the fandom, I can't get too mad about an over-correction.

Sokka: While Sokka has mostly been written as dumb comic relief, that was a trend started in the cartoon, so I can hardly blame Gene for that. And again, the writing hasn’t damaged Sokka at all.

Toph: Here’s where we get into failing characterization. While Gene gets the broad strokes of Toph, I think her characterization is exaggerated in the same way that fandom and even some of LoK does it. (And I might even be guilty of this, too, in my fanfic writing.) Toph’s argument with Aang in The Rift came across as really dumb, since it started off with a contrived miscommunication. And Toph’s dynamic with the “Lily Livers” regresses her teaching style to Bitter Work mode, when she should have learned that yelling at people doesn’t always lead to good results. I don’t see this as a regression, like with Azula, because I don’t think Gene is aiming for an earlier characterization of Toph; I think he thinks that’s just how she always is. And with the fandom largely perceiving Toph as Little Miss Shouty, Gene’s characterization is helping to perpetuate a more shallow view of the character.

Katara: As I’ve mentioned both in my earlier Katara post and some discussions on ASN, Katara has suffered in the way she’s used in these stories. I think her characterization is mostly fine, but while she was the one who mostly set the episode-to-episode agenda in the cartoon, she’s just Aang's tag-along in the comics. In the cartoon, Katara would frequently decide what stops to make and which people to help, or at least heavily figured into the decision when Aang was the one to have the final word. In the comics, though, that's been limited to North & South. So the comics create the illusion of the more passive Katara, something at odds with her characterization. By itself, this wouldn't be too bad, just another case of non-damaging fumbling that could be easily corrected, but when combined with the way LoK turned Katara into the most passive of the surviving gAang and pushed her back into the Healing Huts for all the important events, it creates a characterization for her that has her effectively retiring at 16.

Aang: Ugh. Here's our first major candidate. Aang has been permanently damaged by Gene's writing. The whole finale of the cartoon hinged on a very specific aspect of Aang's character, that he values life above all, to such a passionate degree that he unconsciously summoned the last living god and learned a dangerous spiritual technique with the potential to change the world forever. Whether you think Aang was right or not, whether you think the plot was well-implemented or not, it boggles my mind that Gene's first story starts Aang as someone willing and even eager to kill an opponent. And the best Gene can offer as an explanation is some babble about Buddhist monks having a provision for killing that didn't apply to the events in The Promise and wasn't even invoked by the story itself. That it was Zuko, of all people, who Aang hugged in one of the last scenes of the show and declared a friend, just makes it worse. Aang comes across as a murder fetishist, considering killing Zuko before even understanding the reason behind Zuko's actions, and then going back to the murder solution after finding out that Zuko considers himself to be in a moral quandary about the colonies. If we count Aang's eager acceptance of Roku's (out of nowhere) racism until he realizes that he won't be able to get it on with his Water Tribe girlfriend, then it makes it even worse, recoloring the accepting, well-traveled kid we met in the cartoon as a snobby tourist. So Gene's writing has made Aang a weaker character who might have gotten brain damage sometime between the cartoon and the comics, considering how different he became.

Zuko: Ugh. Here's our other major candidate. Zuko has been permanently damaged by Gene's writing. Yes, in real life, people sometimes regress in their development and victims of abuse frequently don't just move on, but even worse than Aang, the way Zuko goes crawling back to his father and reacts to every disagreement by trying to kill or exile his friends retroactively damages his journey in the cartoon. It makes for a terrible story. That moment in 'The Day of Black Sun' when Zuko denies Ozai and claims Iroh as his true father figure? It's not a triumph now, because Zuko has been proven to be one bad day away from choosing to be more like Ozai. That moment in the finale when Aang hugs Zuko and they talk about how they're friends? That's meaningless now, because Zuko consistently treats Aang without any respect, and often with violent hostility, practically demanding that Aang act like a sycophant. That moment when Zuko learns how deeply Mai cares for him, finding out that she'd give her life just to ensure his survival even if she doesn't quite understand why he's made his choices? Well, apparently Zuko didn't learn anything, because he shuts Mai out of his life unless he wants some lovin', and doesn't even think about her unless she's literally standing in front of him begging for some attention. Every single one of Zuko's progressions in the cartoon is undone by Gene's characterization of him. And Zuko's progressions were not only a major part of what made AtLA so good, it's arguably THE factor that elevated beyond a merely really good children's show. So Gene's writing for Zuko has retroactively ruined AtLA. And no, I'm not exagerating.

Well, gotta give it to Zuko, then. Special mention to Ursa and Roku.

[andrewdburton]

Death by a thousand cuts

I've been on the internet for a long, long time.

Via local Bulletin Board Systems, I started reading USENET newsgroups — mostly Star Trek and comic book and computer game stuff — during college in the late 1980s. I got sucked into the world of MUDs. Soon after graduating, I heard about this new thing called the World Wide Web, so I installed Mosaic on my Macintosh SE.

Before long, I taught myself HTML and built my first website. Eventually, in 1997, I started my first blog — back before blog was even a word!

I was drawn to the web (and the internet) in part because it seemed so egalitarian. Anyone could start a website about anything, and as long as they produced great stuff and shared it, people would read. I also liked the fact that almost everything was free. It didn't cost anything (besides your $19.95 monthly dial-up service) to access any of this information. The early web was a de facto sharing economy.

Best of all? The web was a wide open space, a blank slate, a platform free from dominance by mainstream media. Little people like me could have a voice.

None of this lasted long.

The Monetization of the Web

Soon, banner ads came along. I hated banner ads when they first appeared. “My site will never have banner ads,” I told my friends. (This was my first real lesson that you should never say never. My friends have been giving me grief about this for more than fifteen years!)

In 1998, Google arrived and changed everything. Until that point, web search was a miserable experience. It wasn't very good and it was overly monetized. Google was the opposite. It was amazing and had no monetization at all.

Hahahahahahahaha. How things have changed. Today, Google is all about ads. And using it is more and more a miserable experience. Look at this mess:

How long until Google has transformed itself into AltaVista?

In time, the mainstream media realized that the web wasn't going anywhere. By the early 2000s, they were treating it as an important part of their operations. By the early 2010s, the web had become the most important part of most media companies' platforms. And if it hadn't, those companies would soon be dead.

Meanwhile, two parallel (but related) trends developed.

First, there was the rise of “software as a service” (Saas). In the olden days — 1995, say — when you wanted a computer program, you went down to Circuit City and bought it. You paid for it once and you owned it forever. As “web apps” became a thing, companies shifted from one-time payments to a subscription model. Today, even big companies like Microsoft and Adobe have adopted the practice of continually charging for their products. (And if they don't use a subscription model, they often “sunset” their software, which is essentially the same damn thing.)

Second, forward-thinking sites and companies learned there was money to be made by disrupting existing business models. Netflix is a great example. Founded in 1997, this company has single-handedly destroyed multiple industries, most notably retail video. And, eventually, Netflix began to disrupt the monolithic television industry itself! Initially, this was beneficial to consumers. Now, in 2019, it's become apparent that oops, nope it's not. (See also.)

Twenty-five years ago, when the web was young, it was all about free. Anyone who could afford a computer and a $19.95/month dial-up connection was free to create and publish whatever they wanted — and free to consume what other people had created. It was like some sort of digital utopia.

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Today, the web is most decidedly not free. And it's getting less free with every passing month. Let's be honest: More and more, life online is fucking expensive. It's like death by a thousand cuts.

This morning as I was pulling together the latest edition of the GRS Insider — this site's weekly email — I experienced the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. And that prompted this article. (And delayed the newsletter haha.)

First, I tried to read a New York Times article: “Health facts aren't enough. Should persuasion become a priority?” But I couldn't. I've already read one article from the NYT this month: “D.I.Y. Private Equity Is Luring Small Investors”. It used to be that the NYT was free. Then they instituted a limit on article consumption unless you subscribed, but it was a limit I could live with (something like ten articles per month). Besides, I could bypass the paywall with my browser's incognito mode. Then they got wise to incognito mode, which is fair enough. Now, apparently, you get one free article per month.

Next, I wanted to read this article: “Families Go Deep in Debt to Stay in the Middle Class”. I mean, I really want to read that article. But I can't. It's at The Wall Street Journal and the WSJ has been locked behind a paywall for years.

Crashing into paywalls is a daily occurence now. No — it's an hourly occurrence. I follow a promising link and bam I'm brought up short because I have to pay to access the article. This happens at newspapers, magazines, and even internet-only sites. It makes me grateful for the publications that produce terrific content and still provide it for free. (One example? I find that I'm frequently drawn to articles at The Atlantic. They provide top-notch quality without asking for payment. But for how long?)

Meanwhile, the subscription software model is starting to take its toll too. I completely understand that some apps and services require subscriptions in order to function properly. I pay a monthly fee to have Get Rich Slowly hosted on a webserver. That makes sense.

It does not make sense to me that some of the tools we use to build Get Rich Slowly require monthly (or yearly) subscriptions. There's no ongoing maintenance. There's no draw on the vendor's resources.

It does not make sense to me that my favorite weather app for the iPhone requires an annual subscription. In fact, it's insane. (Yet I still pay it.)

It does not make sense to my that Pzizz, a sleep tool that I've used for over a decade, moved from standalone pricing to subscription pricing. (And hey, Pzizz people, how many times do I have to pay for your product before you give me lifetime access? Because I've paid three or four times already.)

Generally speaking, SaaS and subscription plans aren't necessary — they're just profitable for the companies that use them. And as long as we keep paying, they'll stick to the model.

All Good Things Must Come to an End

The “cut” that's really going to mess with people's minds? The upcoming high price of television.

When Netflix and Hulu and similar companies came along, they offered low-cost alternatives to cable. Cord cutting became an act of frugality. I ditched cable television in 2007 and have never looked back. Until now.

Now, big media companies have recognized that they too can get on the act. They too can inflict one of the thousand cuts.

CBS was quick on the draw. Want to watch the latest Star Trek shows? No Netflix for you! You have to pay $10 per month for CBS All Access — or $6 per month if you're willing to put up with commercials.

Disney is a heavy hitter and they want to get in on the act. Disney+ — coming November 12th — will cost $8 per month. Want to watch the latest Marvel and Star Wars shows? Want to watch Disney and Pixar movies? This is your only option.

By far, the most popular show on Netflix is NBC's The Office, which accounts for a mind-boggling 7% of all Netflix viewing in the U.S. NBC knows a golden goose when it sees one. When its current deal with Netflix expires, it's yanking The Office and using it as a tent pole to launch its own subscription service.

Meanwhile, Netflix and Hulu and Amazon all offer their own original programming. (At least the latter is free for folks who pay for Prime, which is nearly one-third of the United States. Holy shit!) Apple will soon get in on the game and they're using big names to draw viewers: Oprah Winfrey, Steven Spielberg, Reese Witherspoon, Jennifer Aniston, and more.

Streaming used to be a cheaper alternative to cable television. As Consumer Reports notes, these days it's a toss-up. And soon, streaming is likely to be the more expensive option.

Note: The one huge advantage to this proliferation of options? Users can pick and choose which content they subscribe to. For years (or decades), folks had been asking for a la carte pricing for cable channels. Well, I guess now we have it.

No Free Lunch

To provide supporting evidence for this article, I started to make a list of all of the software subscriptions I have, my software that's being “sunsetted” and needs to be upgraded (Quickbooks 2016 just notified me yesterday that it's no longer supported), the most common paywalls I encounter, and the television-related payments I make. I gave up. It's a doable thing, but it'd take too much time right now. It's a project for another day.

I know I sound like a cranky old man (again!), but I've had enough. I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore! Except that I probably am.

“Don't you expect to pay for services?” Kim asked me as I bitched to her this morning. “How does anybody run a business if it's free? In your mind, their business model should be to not charge the customer?”

Okay, fair point. I don't want to be taken for a choosing beggar.

As somebody who runs a website himself and knows how much it costs (in terms of time and money) just to maintain my tiny corner of the web, I absolutely do not begrudge anyone the desire to make money.

And, in fact, my biggest challenge since repurchasing Get Rich Slowly two years ago has been balancing my desire to provide excellent information without destroying the user experience with monetization. It's a delicate balance, one that I'm not sure I'm achieving. (But hey, I'm working on it!)

My frustration is that there are just so many companies extracting a pound of flesh from me. It's too much.

Yes, I realize most (of not all) of these expenses are voluntary. Yes, I realize this is capitalism in action. Yes, I realize there are often free (or cheaper) options. Yes, I realize we can't reset the internet to 1995. Believe me: I've been thinking about this issue for years now. I understand all of this stuff. But I don't like it.

In the end, my solution recently has been to KonMari my digital life. I've removed most of the apps from my iPhone and iPad, opting to cut those with subscription fees first. When possible, choose software with a one-time fee instead of an ongoing subscription. I try to steer clear of sites with paywalls. I killed Hulu. (But then Kim promptly joined.) Even though I love Star Trek and the Marvel Universe, I refuse to pay for CBS All Access and Disney+. I never will.

But then, I was never going to have banner ads on my website either, was I?

The post Death by a thousand cuts appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

from Finance https://www.getrichslowly.org/death-by-a-thousand-cuts/ via http://www.rssmix.com/