#like..even now around people who are supposedly 'like me' i still feel a disconnect

[etherical-angel]

OK BEING DELUSIONAL ON MAIN 24/7 but im really loving my new fixation self so far!!! on the occasions where i feel really attatched to a character(usually bc theyre a sign for me) my physical body either starts getting changes or i start noticing things already there(usually my hair is the biggest difference, as it literally changed texture last time and i reallyyyy needed something new to flatten the curls out..found it!!)

rn im like a weird bigender girlverine, and its finally making me feel better about not shaving as much(i had a big dysphoria era with my new alters who didnt like our beard and alters who did, so now while this fixation is on theres a balence. for now). its also making me feel better about my super hairy arms and legs and chest, and also my veiny hairy hands and feet that look like. not human. so now i wouldnt even mind having more hair on them....it came at a perfect time for my nails too, as this is the first time in my life where im not bitting them and let them grow out to ungodly lengths(i cut them into points to make them sharp >:3) oh and ive got pointy vampire teeth from my vampire fixation as a kid(one of the first times this happened) so thats fun too.

but yea i look like this irl rn and my hair is sooo fluffy and big^^ (weird panel but it resonates w me)(now im just hoping for my sideburns to finally grow after 7 years of wanting them...)

[brontearchive]

Isolation: Helen & Agnes, Pt. Helen

Anne Brontë's two main characters - Helen Graham (The Tenant of Wildfell Hall) and Agnes Grey - share quite a few things in common with both each other and their author. Of all of those things, there's one theme that is truly striking when you realise that both these characters are based on Anne Brontë's own experiences - the isolation.

Helen Graham

In The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Helen Graham faces isolation in two different forms, during two different chapters of her life - before and after leaving Arthur Huntingdon.

Before moving to Wildfell Hall, Helen was trapped in an emotionally abusive marriage with that bastard Arthur. Thanks to his cruelty and general control over Helen's life, she was not only isolated in her marriage but her social life as well. As Arthur deteriorated into immorality and alcoholism, Helen slowly became more and more isolated from the world outside.

Her emotional isolation got worse when she realised that Arthur is, in fact, irredeemable.

However, it was not only Arthur himself that restrained her, but society in general.

“I had no friend to whom I could unburden my heart, no one to whom I could appeal for advice or assistance.”

This loneliness is increased by her inability to share her suffering with anyone, as the societal expectations of women in her time would have made such a disclosure scandalous. Helen lived in a time where women often had to endure pain in silence.

What made her isolation worse was that she presumed no one around her cared.

“I was often alone—alone in the midst of company; for, though I saw the faces of the people around me, and heard their voices, I was as much forgotten as though I were not there.”

In that moment, Helen reflects on how she feels like a ghost within her own home. Even in the presence of others, though they are all Arthur's preferred company, she experiences a profound emotional disconnection. She becomes increasingly aware of how little her thoughts and feelings matter to those around her, especially to Arthur, who is indifferent to her suffering. This passage underscores the alienation she feels within a supposedly intimate setting, her own home, which deepens her loneliness.

And of course, for the longest time, Anne attempts to deny her own suffering, both because she believes she can still save Arthur's soul, and to protect her reputation as a good wife.

However, even when she gets the courage to leave for Wildfell Hall, she is still lonely and in isolation, though it takes a different form. While she escapes the immediate emotional abuse, she faces the harsh reality of being a woman living alone with a child in a society that judges her for leaving her husband. Her loneliness now becomes one of exile, secrecy, and emotional restraint.

“I was very much alone in the world, and I felt as if I had no one to whom I could turn for help or sympathy.”

After leaving Arthur and taking refuge in Wildfell Hall, Helen is physically isolated in the countryside. Though she is free from her abusive marriage, she still feels the weight of her isolation, compounded by the secrecy she must maintain about her past. Her situation is one of self-imposed exile, as she has little contact with the outside world, and her past remains hidden. The loneliness is not just about being alone but also about the emotional burden of carrying the secret of her failed marriage.

Helen knows she is an “outcast” from the social world she once inhabited. Her reputation is shattered, and she is judged for defying the societal expectation that women should remain in marriage at any cost. The loneliness she feels is not only emotional but also social, as she faces rejection and scorn from society. This reflects the harsh consequences for women who break from the conventional roles of wife and mother, reinforcing her sense of alienation.

“I was an outcast—an object of derision and scorn, and to the world at large, I was a woman without a character, without a protector, and without a home.”

In many ways, Helen's loneliness mirrors Anne Brontë's own life experiences. Though not married or in a similarly abusive relationship, Anne Brontë, like many women of her time, experienced a deep sense of isolation. Anne lived much of her life in relative obscurity, growing up in the moors of Yorkshire, and often in the shadow of her more famous sisters, Charlotte and Emily Brontë. Her personal life was marked by solitude, as she was known to be shy, introverted, and intensely private.

She grew up with very few people for company and often described her loneliness to her publisher. Even as she grew older, she never moved out of seclusion, though that may have been a personal choice, especially after the death of her brother, Branwell, who she deeply cared about.

In terms of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, Anne does not hide her views on love and society. Helen’s decision to leave her abusive husband and live independently was radical for the time, as was Anne’s critique of Victorian society’s treatment of women. Anne, like Helen, understood the cost of standing apart from societal norms.

And like Helen's actual decision to leave her husband, Anne also got serious criticism for writing about it.

Helen’s eventual happy ending - finding some peace with Gilbert Markham - suggests that loneliness is not permanent and that healing and connection are possible. This reflects Anne’s own sense of hope, that she, too, might have her own happy ending. Though she never had a conventional romantic relationship, she created her own emotional satisfaction through writing, intellectual pursuits, and deep familial bonds.

[perplexingluciddreams]

Autism and sense of self

For as long as I can remember, I have been almost completely unaware of the fact that I'm a person. Of course, I was not always aware of other people and the fact that they have their own thoughts and feelings, but even once I gained that awareness, I only viewed myself as the sum of my thoughts. Just a floating brain, no connection to the body that I supposedly inhabit - this disconnect being greatly exacerbated by the lack of control I had over the body I'm in.

As a result, I have a flimsy-at-best sense of personhood and identity. I'm just a blank character that I have to memorise facts about. My name, my age, hair colour, eye colour, height, things I like, things I don't like… I have to repeat these facts to myself in my mind, to stop myself from forgetting it all. The real me (that I think of myself as) only exists in my head, and even that is tricky to hold onto with my mind being so polluted by everything around me, in the "real world". Noises, colours, lights, voices, words. I say it gets "loud" in my head, which is as close as I can get to explaining how it feels, but in reality it's so much more than just "loud". It splinters my true thoughts into fragments that end up scattered and hidden in the din of my memory.

I don't think in words. I don't think I will ever be able to describe the way I think, but I do know that the best way for me to separate my true thoughts from the rest of the noise in my brain, is to ignore the things that come fully-formed right away. I can't trust the "thoughts" in my head that are immediately there in words, that is always a strong indication that it's a script from somewhere else, and that it won't reflect my own opinions. Unfortunately, simply deciding if those scripts do match my opinion is not something I can easily do - it requires the skill, time, and energy to break down all of the words and their definitions, and then build it back up again - and the majority of the time, it's simply too overwhelming to even try.

Because of my fractured and flimsy sense of self, plus my strong interest in books and reading from a young age, I used to imagine that every time I read a book, my brain merged with the brain of the main character(s), and I now had their thoughts in my head, too. It was the best explanation I had for my "loud" brain, at the time. I would think to myself that all the times I really lost control of my body (especially my mouth), it was just another character taking over my body for a while. That explanation - despite being incorrect - was very comforting to me as a child, and helped me feel more like I could still have my own thoughts and opinions, even if I could never use my body to get them out to the real world.

I have always been a "daydreamer" - that's another explanation that other people indirectly gave me for my feeling of being a floating brain. I do daydream, but that's only a part of it, and when I'm daydreaming, it feels more like my brain finds a stream of interlocking thoughts and just goes with the flow. It's the least difficult and least confusing way of thinking for me. When I'm forcefully jolted out of it by a real world thing, it's very upsetting. The worst thing that can happen here is someone seeing my involuntary visible reaction to a thought, and assuming that I'm reacting to something in the real world that I wasn't even aware of. It makes me feel so disconnected and misunderstood.

I have a whole world in my head that can never mesh with the world outside of my head that my body lives in. The people around me who (I assume) live freely in the real world, with control and connection between their brain and body, will never be able to fully know me. It's very painful and disheartening. They can only see snapshots, when I work for weeks or months to write something like this.

Despite all that I've just said about my body and brain being separate, I still don't see "myself" (/my mind) as a cohesive whole. It has always felt splintered and confused, like a swirling mess of consciousness that's constantly fighting itself. The sort of things that come to mind when trying to express this are lava lamps, or oil and water.

Another thing that comes as a result of this low sense of self, is that exploration of my own identity is very challenging. There's lots of things I'd love to learn about myself, but the combination of barely understanding anything about myself, and my difficulty with language comprehension, makes this nearly impossible. I feel so lucky that through the internet and a lot of time, I was able to figure out my feelings towards my body, sex, and gender, and communicate that to my parents. But there were so many failed attempts during this process, and there were several years where my body and mind were both so busy and loud and out of control that I resigned myself to a miserable life, unable to express these parts of myself.

I still can't really put labels on myself, I don't understand the words, or what they mean in relation to my experience, enough. I would, of course, need to perceive myself as a person in order to do any of that!

My memory is a strange thing. I almost think of it as a sensitive creature living in my skull, easily startled and triggered, and with no sense of linear time, but possessing incredible pattern recognition. It seems to work in tandem with my emotions, and the more intense the emotion, the more I become mentally enveloped in the memories in which I felt the same way. The hardest thing about my memory working this way is the fact that I spend so much of my time pulled back to when I lacked communication, and that's the most painful thing I've ever gone through.

I'm so glad to be able to express myself like this now, even if it takes this much time and energy. Communication is worth any price.

[stevensavage]

Nothing Means Anything Anymore

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve's Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

There’s a peculiar dissatisfaction in First World modern life. A racing, seeking need is prowling around, so many of us are trying to get something. Whatever we churn out in technologies and media doesn’t quite seem to be enough. Whatever new social media or communities or movies that pop up, people still seem disconnected.

I get that strange, unsettled, need - and that feeling things just “aren’t like they should be.” Even when you remove toxic nostalgia and the human condition, something seems wrong. Lately, contemplating everything from music to politics, a phrase bubbled up in my mind - “Nothing Means Anything Anymore.”

So much doesn’t seem to exist for itself or because it’s just good as it is or even it’s cool or fun. I think that’s part of the dissatisfaction.

The latest new social media product is just a mixture of contrarianism, MLM, and fad so someone makes money. The latest big media sensation is part of a series being milked for money and flattened to the most marketable format. Every book cover looks alike and sells the same stories that went before it - even for indie authors.

How much of our culture is just marketing anymore? Nothing exists for itself, everything is how to get more money into a bank account, so much is “number go up.” How many times have you reviewed a film or a book for friends and caught yourself sounding like a professional reviewer or marketer? We’re so used to nothing being what it its, but being some kind of product rollout or initiative or whatever we start to sound like that.

Or maybe there’s the meaninglessness in politics and the seeking of political power. Carefully-tested bullshit is spewed making claims everyone knows are lies, but people don’t want to admit it so their side “wins.” Pundits spit out catchphrases and newspaper people are just asking questions since they don’t want to do real work. Even the conspiracy theories are recycled and the conspiracy theorists seem to be trying not to meet each other’s gaze as they know they’re full of crap.

Such multi-level meaninglessness even infects supposedly sane politics. Political discussions among friends and enemies sound like any argument held by pundits as we’re all trying to be pundits instead of themselves. Local politics can be amplified by some online influence-seeker who posts about your local town and next thing you know your city council is getting screamed at by people in other states or even countries. Number goes up, votes go up, clicks goes up, but it’s all worse somehow.

We’ve somehow managed to build a complex, high-tech First World where we know a lot of it is bullshit.

Yet when I do things like read punk mags (hey, I’m not as dull as I seem) or go to local zine fests I see meaning. There’s some meaning in these handcrafted, not-market-tested, weird, personal things. There’s satisfaction to be had out there, from weird streaming services to someone’s photocopied jokes on cactuses (really, I have it). Meaning is there to have.

I’m not proposing a solution or a diagnosis of cause right now. I’m just recognizing this right now. I do suspect some of it is that we’ve built very complex, profit-driven societies and created a lot of technologies and media we’re promoting that we may not need or want. At some point everything became so abstract nothing means anything.

But now I can ask myself what does it mean when I look at a book, a movie, etc. I can ask why I do something and what really matters to me. I can also act less like a marketer . . . at least when I’m not marketing.

Steven Savage

www.StevenSavage.com

www.InformoTron.com

[dokidokitsuna]

GREAT NEWS

I BEAT MR. GRIZZ :D (i.e. I finally finished Splatoon 3′s story mode)

...The final section (ascending the launchpad + multistage boss fight) really wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be; I shouldn’t have put it off for so long. ^^; It was more annoying than anything, tbh...

Originally when I was watching playthroughs of Return of the Mammalians my biggest criticism was that this story mode felt like busywork, and unfortunately after having played through it myself it still feels that way. :/ Of course, that’s probably why I actually got through it-- having so little investment in the story took the pressure off-- but that doesn’t mean I can’t find fault with it...

Every level feels more like a random challenge than a part of a larger journey that actually means something, and even the setup for the story that’s there feels superficial. For example, O.R.C.A.: I can buy that there’s an AI living in Alterna that acts as a lore-keeper for its long-dead civilization. I can even buy that accomplishments *of some sort* should earn you the right to read the lore that it’s keeping. But why does it specifically give the Agent physical challenges (did the people of Alterna have to go through these...? Why would they??) Why are these challenges populated by the fuzzy Octarians that are supposedly under Mr. Grizz’s control? Why do we spend 90% of the story mode with this random A.I. that really has nothing to do with the plot...???

Its constant inclusion in the story makes you think it’s working together with Mr. Grizz (that’s what I initially suspected...) but in the end it turns out that’s not the case? As of now, O.R.C.A. is a neutral party and I don’t think Grizz ever even acknowledges its existence...despite the fact that it provides the infrastructure for every single level from Octo Canyon’s collapse to the rocket launch. You’d really think such an integral aspect of the gameplay would be equally integral to the story...but instead it’s just kind of there...

It feels like the devs just handed us a CQ clone that accidentally lacked any justification for its actions or existence in the story...and then stapled Deep Cut and Mr. Grizz’s backstory onto that concept and called it a day. All these things feel so disconnected, and there’s not enough camp to cement it all together. Which worries me a bit, because the Splatoon series usually oozes camp...it’s like they saw the success of Octo Expansion and took the wrong lesson from it. 

Tartar’s antics, the psychedelic visuals, and Agent 8′s subtle characterization were what made that DLC fun; the added lore didn’t really matter that much. On the flipside, Return of the Mammalians has a fairly grounded setting where you spend most of your time marching around the snow earning lore...as a blank-slate MC who’s friends with (I hate to say it...) a Deus ex Machina. :/

All that is to say, I hope this is just an isolated mild disappointment, and not the beginning of a trend. I won’t mind RotM being the way it is if Side Order, for instance, is a super-impressive return to form. ^^;

[alvariearmy]

Some of my theories for Scarlet Hollow so far. Posting before episode 4 comes out to see which ones survive it and which ones are destroyed or altered in some way! Who knows, maybe one or two of them might even be confirmed.

And yeah, most of these theories will be long, but mostly because I am providing "evidence" as to why I think they are plausible!

Spoilers under the cut!

Reese is a werewolf. Fairly popular one, from what I have seen, but I feel like there is a lot more evidence for this theory than for vampire. (Though I would love him either way, Reese is my favorite romance option, especially with the likelihood of him being... not human.) First thing that tipped me off that he might be more than human is that he seemed to be struggling to eat. But open playing that scene several times, I realized he wasn't struggling with the food, necessarily. It feels like a misdirect now. But thinking about it, that was the first point where we started to see Reese frustrated or angry at all, and it was only then that he felt bad and rushed off. Add that his mother was scared of him and quickly ushered us out of the house... classic werewolf, transforms from anger. He also describes some of his symptoms, with one being that he feels like there is something moving under his skin constantly, and his skin is also... very stretchy. Beast lurking just below the flesh, maybe? And the final hint I can think of right now is that you can ask Stella if she believes in other things, such as ghosts, vampires, and werewolves, and she focuses in on werewolves as potentially being real. Of course, I'm still open to vampire, but werewolf currently seems more likely to me!

Pearlanne killed Wayne, and Tabitha killed Pearlanne. I don't know if it is outright confirmed or not that Pearlanne killed Wayne. I mean, we aren't even fully sure Wayne is dead, but he certainly looks and smells dead. If you spend the third day with Tabitha, you learn that Pearlanne had chased off previous lovers, and we know that Tabitha has not had the best luck in general with relationships, likely largely thanks to Pearlanne. So if Wayne was harder to scare off... it would make sense for Pearlanne to kill him. Based on all the things we've heard, from our mother Vivian and from all the people in town, Pearlanne was never the gentle sort. I would not put something like murder past her. (Alternative: She did not kill Wayne, but cursed him in a way that makes him appear dead and created a disconnect between his body and soul. Would be a neat twist.) Now, the second half of the theory... I don't know how much Tabitha really liked Wayne. Maybe she loved him, maybe he was just another lover who ended badly. Either way, he was Tabitha's last straw, and after his disappearance, she had enough and offed her mother. We can learn that Pearlanne died in her sleep, supposedly suffocated from sleep apnea. Which is plausible, sure, but it feels too clean. And Tabitha noticeably feels anger towards her mother, and she is uncomfortable with the idea of the police poking around too closely. Seems unlikely that she vouches for us on the second morning purely out of the kindness of her heart. So, she killed her abusive mother and is hoping the police remain incompetent enough to stay out of it.

Tabitha definitely knows more than she is letting on. I am still unsure of the degree, but even beyond my theory that she killed Pearlanne... She is weirdly protective over us. The first day, she barely talks to us, but she blows up our phone when we are out with Stella. She then puts up a curfew, she drags us into town with her, all to try and make sure we stay safe. I do believe her in the maze, when she says she does not know about certain aspects of the family history or what is hidden in the forbidden wing of the estate. But she definitely knows a lot more than she lets on. And if you can Talk To Animals and speak with Dustin, he talks about a second person living in the house; I am assuming Tabitha is the sad person, so that means the second one is the scary person. I suspect Tabitha knows something about this "scary" person, but she is not saying for one reason or other. Maybe they are the person we hear playing the piano if you manage to break into the forbidden wing?

Sybil is definitely something powerful. A witch? Maybe. Or maybe something even greater than that. Mystics have a strong reaction to just meeting her. In my mind, that is how I imagine it would be to meet an angel. Not to say I think Sybil is an angel, necessarily, but it is something I am not ruling out. It could just be that she has powerful magic and is just a very powerful witch. I hope to get more hints about Sybil in episode 4, to see if maybe this theory can get a little more substance.

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: prince xiao x servant gn reader

req: no | wc: 1.62k | royal au

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 (you are here) | part 5

taglist: @hanniejji

a/n: low graphic pic

The following days at the palace are tense. Nobody wants to speak about Rex Lapis’s death, in fear that it will spike a new argument. Servants that rush and bustle around the halls can barely even stare at each other, for the siblings’ fights are so harsh and loud that their horrible words still ring in their ears.

Before, as the servants dined together, they spread hearsay. Now the dining hall is silent, with the only sound being cutlery and plates. Each loud clunk of cutlery against porcelain is piercing in their ears.

Rex Lapis upheld a certain peace. With his death, there was anticipation around the corner of every action. Would the kingdom collapse? Who would take the spot of monarch?

The Adepti’s meeting with the Liyue Qixing was only in a few days. If the reunion failed to find a new ruler, doom would surely initiate.

But that was not a servant’s burden. For now, as one of the most trusted, you were to speak with the funeral parlor to begin preparations for the Rite of Parting.

It had been many years since the last Rite of Parting took place, a parting wish for one of the Adepti. Each one was directed and prepared by the Wangsheng Funeral parlor, the only funeral parlor in the kingdom. Their current director was infamous for her humorous spirit, rare for solemn occasions, but however they may behave, the Rite of Parting will not be a matter to be laughed at.

Their consultant was also famous, even in his short term of work. He was known to be calm, reserved, polite, and extremely knowledgeable. Though his reputation did not prepare you to see your supposedly dead king again.

He smiles politely at you from his office chair while you gape at him. Gathering your manners, you greet him with a bow, “Pleasure to be doing business with you, mr. Zhongli. I’m-”

“(y/n), yes I know. Take a seat.”

He may not look like Rex Lapis and he may not have the exact same mannerisms, but this was your king. You were sure of it.

“Rex-”

“Zhongli.” He corrects. “Not many people have seen through my disguise, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

You gulp, nodding. “I’m here to discuss the Rite of Parting.”

He cuts you off for the last time, “I know, and that is taken care of. Here is the contract, it has all the information you need. All you need is to take it to the Adepti and they will discuss it, but I have a feeling there’s information that you want.”

“I… yes, there is.” You gulp back the shock. This man in front of you is your dead king, but he’s going by the name of Zhongli. “Wha… why?”

“I’ve always been disconnected from my citizens. Despite this, they depend on me far too much.” He speaks of conflicting matters, yet he speaks of them so calmly and simply, even busying himself with paperwork as he does. “They create a false image of me, and they praise those ideologies. There are many things that they say I do, many ways that they say I behave, and amplified many qualities that I have always shown to be something greater. I was flawed, yet they thought of me as perfect. The people no longer followed a king, instead, they followed the pseudo-god of their imaginations.”

A frown paints his lips, and with a sip of tea, he smiles once more. “I am a regular man just like any other. I have desires and I have flaws and I deserve to take action on them. Do you understand now?”

“Yes.” It was true that the king was not perfect, just as Yuheng Keqing proposed. No person was perfect, and the same went for every monarch of each kingdom.

“You have more questions?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Who should be the new monarch?”

He smiles, in a cheeky way that you’d never seen on the king, “That’s making it too easy for you. Nevertheless, a question is a question. Who has governed Liyue for just as long as I have? Who upholds law and who helps the citizens? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not the royal family.”

“The Liyue Qixing?”

“Precisely.” He clears his throat, “But like I said. I’m a regular man. All prophecies of mine are meant to be seen as suggestions, rather than definitive word.”

“Now, you must have something for me in return. I have given plenty of answers, so it’s time you give me some too. Why do you stay with the royal family? I formed this contract with you to become our servant. Now that Rex Lapis is dead, there’s no need to stay. Why are you still serving them?” That was a question you did not have a prepared response to, but one answer shone brightly in your mind.

“Xiao. He… I care for him, and he does for me.” It was simple, yet complicated. Simple, yet it showed all the feelings you had towards the prince.

“He was always attached to you.” Zhongli states as a matter of factly, in a way that brings warmth to your cheeks. “Just as the citizens of Liyue depended on me, he depended on you.” He chuckles, “Minus the fake ideologies part, of course.”

“Well,” He nudges the Rite of Parting documents your way, “I believe that is all. Good day, (y/n).”

“Good day, your majes-” He smiles, eyes crinkling as if he’s seeing an old friend.

“Have a nice day, Zhongli.”

“Welcome home.” Another thing you didn’t expect that day was Xiao waiting for you at the door of the palace, not to mention that he considered the place to be your home. “Where have you been?”

Ever since you comforted him, he was warmer with you. The loner prince who you knew nothing about suddenly became the person you knew the most about. You hadn’t noticed just how much he liked you until your meeting with Zhongli. “Gathering Rite of Parting documents. Where are the Adepti?”

Xiao griances, most likely remembering the horrible arguments from a few days prior. “Doing their own things. Can the meeting… wait for later? I don’t want to have a reenactment of what happened the other day at the moment.”

“Sure.” You nod. “I just need to drop off these papers with another servant. Is there anything you need afterwards?”

“I… have something to show you.” He looks at anything from you, arms behind his back. He seems nervous yet excited at the same time.

“Okay, I’ll be at your room as soon as I can.”

It seemed Xiao had a lot to show you. You had no idea what he had to show off, and you did not think it entailed leaving the city.

The prince walked ahead of you, leading the way. He didn’t dare look you in the eyes, and anything he said was short and to the point. Nevertheless, he did not seem to have a rude intention. He was merely nervous, and you know that because he’s showing the most emotion you’ve ever seen him express.

Xiao stops and sits on a rock platform once you reach your destination, the hill just about overlooking the kingdom’s harbor. “I sneak off to this place sometimes to look at the view. It clears my head.”

“Even after I tuck you into bed?” You ask, taking a seat next to him.

“I- yes.” He seems ashamed to admit it. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” You give up on seeking his gaze, taking in the sight of the harbor instead. “I can see why you come here, the view is beautiful.”

It’s lucky that you’re no longer looking at him, because if you locked eyes while he glanced your way, the prince would’ve flushed red. “This wasn’t the only thing I wanted to bring you up here for.” Your beauty under the slowly setting sky of Liyue was magnificent, it almost made him trip over his words.

“Well, what do you have to say?” As the blue sky turns into hues of warm colors -reds, oranges, yellows- it blends in with the warmth of Liyue. The beauty of it has you captured, but Xiao has seen it plenty of times.

“I like you.”

You turn to him to speak, which makes him immediately snap his head away from you. “Xiao, I-” Before you can assure him that you reciprocate his feelings, he cuts you off.

“I know a relationship would only burden you and distract you from your duties. I know that perhaps you wouldn’t have time for me. But… could we at least try?”

The warmth on his cheeks is forgotten when you laugh, which makes Xiao snap his head at you. Clearly he wasn’t expecting that sort of reaction from you. “Xiao, I was going to say I liked you back.”

“Oh.” He claps a hand over the lower half of his face in an attempt to hide his hot blush. Color stands out between and above his fingers.

Your laugh almost humiliates him more. “You won’t burden me, Xiao! You’d cause more joy than anything.”

He nods slowly, “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat. “Do you.. want to kiss?”

Xiao moves his hand just a bit, uncovering one of his cheeks, an invitation to kiss him there. He’s most likely never kissed anybody on the lips, so you’d have to save that for later.

Though a mere kiss on the cheek seems to overwhelm him. As much as you want to, you don’t tease him about it.

“Come on, let’s head back, my prince. It’s getting dark.”

My prince… no more ‘your highness’ from now on.

[mcmoth]

BOIS

The aro c!Tommy propoganda is done.

Here:

Friends can be Home, too

Summary:

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

'Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

 He couldn't doubt anymore.

A journey of introspection, self doubt, and realizing you're not alone.

Or read on ao3!

Warnings: swearing, internalized arophobia, which includes self doubt, a bit of self hate, that sort of stuff. Also, this will have like, mentions of attraction and all that stuff, and Tommy gets pretty confused, so if you'd like to avoid that? This isn't the fic for you, ig. Btw, as a reminder, this is all set in the dsmp universe and is not about the irl people in any way.

Now onto the fic!

Welp.

Tommy sure is ready to stab someone right now.

Well, not really. More accurately he wanted to run, or shrivel up into a fucked up raisin, or snap, or just exist in darkness right now. Because there were his two best friends, cuddling on the couch. And he was sat there, next to them, supposed to be enjoying movie night.

It's not like he wasn't happy for them. They can do what they want, he reminded himself, again and again. They're just expressing their love, they're just close, and Tommy has to stop being such a fucking oddball about it. This wasn't weird. It wasn't weird.

And he could even see Ranboo giving him looks, probably about to ask something stupid. But if he made any comment, expressed discomfort, that would just be him being a dick and a weirdo. He's not going to ruin this for them. He just has to… to ignore it. To ignore it. He can do that. Yes.

“You alright, Tommy?”

Tommy's jaw snapped, he could feel his teeth grinding, and the couch was feeling all too small. So with a fast raise to his feet, he stumbled away, throwing a brash “fine" Ranboo's way, something burning deep in the pit that was his chest.

It was fine. It was fine. Why wasn't it fine? What the fuck was wrong with him??

Maybe he was just…

Jealous.

 

***

 

“I think I have a crush on Hannah.”

Tubbo and Ranboo stilled. The silence was… bad.

“oh?”

Tommy gulped, anxiously crinkling the chip bag he got from targay. “Y-yeah.”

Tubbo hummed. “I've never seen you interact with her much. When… did that start?”

Tommy's mind buzzed, and he resisted crushing the food in his hands, reclining heavily against the backrest of the bench. “I-I don't know, uh, recently? I guess? She's just… nice. She uh…. Has pretty hair? And she gave me a flower once! That was just, swe- uh, poggers of her, so. Yeah. I just think… yeah.���

Tubbo nodded, head tilting. “Do you think she likes you back?”

Tommy's eyes widened, and he didn't know why he laughed, but he did, and when he responded, he himself was taken aback by the hiss accompanying the words. “No!! She- why would- no- no, I mean… m-ma- I don't know??”

Ranboo swung his tail. “She better not. I mean, how old is she?”

“What does that matter?”

Ranboo stared. “You’re a child. Technically.”

Tommy bristled. “Fuck you, I am a big man! I'll kill you!”

The conversation moved on after that, and Tommy, somewhere along the way, quickly got lost. Head filled with cotton, electricity running through his veins, feeling horribly, oddly, humiliated and strangely… dissatisfied.

They didn't care. And he just felt more confused than ever.

…Why did he even do that?

 

***

 

Tommy was walking, grass up to his knees, a lead in hand. When he reached the village, he tied it to a fence, patting his borrowed horse before placing feet on the path, comforted by the gravel crunching beneath his feet, the feel of the sun on his neck. He looked around, at the wooden houses and half stacked stalls and idle chatter. He looked around and he thought.

He thought back to older days. This was… strangely nostalgic. Walking alone, in an unfamiliar town, the vastness of the world enveloping him in it's many potentials. He still wasn't sure when he felt better. Running around on the streets, just trying to survive, noone by his side, weak but naïve, hopeful. Or now, with some people to care for and trust, a place to return to, enough food in his pack, but shouldered with the weight of a dozen betrayals, life slipping past him three times too many. In a sense, he was still just trying to survive. Everything was so different now, yet the same.

He supposes, one thing that remained, was the sense of loneliness.

He grasped the front of his shirt, taking in the beating of his heart, looking at the strangers mingling amongst themselves. At the pairs, at the couples, at the families, sharing laughs and smiles, a contrast to the furrowed brows or tired amusement of shopkeepers and the idle folk visiting them.

He had always wanted a family.

…there was one way to get a family.

Someone to share laughs with. Someone who would comfort you. Someone who would take your hand, or hold you through the night, and never even leave. Someone who promises to stay.

It was a nice thought.

So why was it so hard to conceptualize? To imagine, to picture someone actually coherent, to look at a person and go – yes. I want to be your partner.

...eugh. just that sentence made his whole nervous system do a double take.

But why? Why? Was it the betrayals? Was it some fucked up self conscious mind shit? Was that it? Was he just fucked up in the head? Maybe.

Maybe.

But as it is, he knew he liked girls. He did. He liked them. They were… they were nice. Like Niki, who smelled of baked goods, and had a soft smile, and who had once given him a hug when she found him crying during the revolution, and who looked very nice in dresses. Or Puffy, who had made him a pickaxe when he asked for one, and who opposed Jack in stealing his hotel, and who offered him therapy, and she had really cool horn rings. Or Hannah, with her red flowers, and pretty builds, and the way the nature seemed just a bit more lively with her around, and her laugh was bright with mischievous intent that he could empathize with. They… they were nice. Yeah. Most girls were so nice.

So why… why hadn't he found one that he could. Actually picture doing… anything. In his head. No kissing, no dates, none of that… shmuck. It was just… he could see many girls his age running around, just now, in front of his eyes, many running through his mind as he searched his memories. None of them… no. And he tried thinking of boys, but that didn't… no. Not that either. …Enbies?

No… no, nothing… nothing felt. Good. None of it felt good, he just felt sick, he just felt weird, he didn't even feel dirty per se, but more like he was charting into foreign grounds, into something alien, and none of the thoughts he forced to visualize behind his eyelids, fleeting from how quickly he shut them out, felt like him. It didn't feel like him.

His fingers trembled, his chest felt tight, throat choked, and his head, on his shoulders, heavy and woozy and oh so muddled. He felt his heart race. Was… was that it? Maybe that was a sign. People said heart racing was a sign of attraction. Was there anyone in particular who did that? Maybe he was wrong – he was not lacking or messed up or broken, he just had buried the feelings so deep below his ribs, underneath fabricated doubts and trauma and the disconnect he had with reality and relationships in general, and once he got over those barriers, and just found someone, he would experience that joy that everyone spoke about. That closeness. He just had to… allow himself to get closer. To know more people, know them better.

That was… that was probably it.

But no matter. He raised his eyes, his senses coming back to him like the wind blowing his hair out of his eyes, blinking at the noise around him.

After all, he still came here for a reason.

 

***

 

“Yeah, I like these ones the best,” Tubbo said as he handed Tommy the various colored discs. Tommy nodded, smiling as he sorted through them, writing down the names in his notepad, feeling little stones dig into his elbows. Tubbo joined him fully on the ground, laying down next to him. “What do you need these for, anyways?” he blinked, and there was a smirk growing on his face. “Are they for… someone?”

Tommy furrowed his brows, staring at the other. “What?”

Tubbo chuckled nervously, waving his hand around as he stumbled over his words. “You- you know. Like a gift? Are you going to… to try to, get someone?”

Tommy’s stare just became sharper, becoming even more confused. “What??” What the fuck was he talking about?

“You know, like a- a date?” Tommy blanked. “Cause- you know, you've been talking about girls a lot lately, and I just thought-"

“No.” Tommy interrupted, feeling numb. “No, it's not for a fucking girl.”

“Oh.” Tubbo laid on the grass, clearly uncomfortable. He began to tear up the leaf he had picked up. “Sorry, I just thought- I'm not really good at this whole thing… sorry for assuming. W- …what is the reason, then?”

Tommy sighed, thankful for the topic change. “It's for… you know how I’m going to therapy?”

Tubbo hummed in affirmation.

“Puffy suggested that, since I like music, I should like, indulge in that, use it to calm myself or give myself something to do, that junk. So I’ve just been. Collecting, I guess.” He looked over the list again, then closed the notepad and sat up, discs in hand. “I wanna build a place where I just keep all the records, maybe I’ll even sell the ones I don't like. Good business practice, you know?”

Tubbo brightened. “Oh! That sounds really cool! If you need help with the building part, I can help you, by the way!”

Tommy looked at Tubbo's grin, so sweet and infectious, and his heart thawed, thinking of working with Tubbo again, building towards something together. It was a nice thought. “Alright.”

It would be nice to be with Tubbo again.

 

***

 

Tommy felt miserable.

This… this was miserable. He didn't know why. It really shouldn't be – it was just music. He was just sorting through all of his music, picking ones he liked, picking ones to comfort him, he loved music, it was fine, it just…

Why did so many of the songs have to be about love.

It made him feel angry and hurt and alone in a particular way that was so familiar and yet so utterly different. Because when he felt alone before, he fought with himself the same, he sunk into the thoughts of being unlovable or broken or undeserving of company, but at least he could understand it. At least he could look back now and think “Dream was a bitch" and that would be some solace. At least he could have hope that even if he was unlovable, he could still love. Love others. Try to seek others. Even if he never got that back.

But now, hearing all the poetics and sweet confessions that were in such abundance, something that sounded so passionate and revered, so integral, it was like looking into another reality he didn't, couldn't, understand, and suddenly, he felt more alien than ever before.

And most importantly, how fucking stupid that was, that the thing that made him feel that way was love.

Love. The thing that supposedly drove the world, that made everyone happy. He thought he knew love. But maybe… maybe not. Maybe there has been something deeply, intangibly wrong about him this whole time, and he hadn't even known. Not to this extent.

Cause he knew before. Knew it in the unease in his bones, and the panic in his brain, and the annoyed buzz in his chest. But… but he had doubted.

He couldn't doubt anymore.

God….

He laid on the ground, head to the cold floor, the record still spinning. The noise bounced off the dark wooden walls and into his skull, grating and aching. He covered his ears, messed up his hair, breathed in and out. In and out. What was wrong. What was wrong.

The record fell to silence. Then it started back again, as it automatically swapped out. Next.

His fingers felt restless, his whole body did. He tapped his skull, feeling the thumps echo. Breathe in, and breathe out. Breathe-

“-ow will I ever know you enough to love you, if you're hiding who you are?

Don't ask me to explain-"

He startled, his breath catching. This disc was scratchier than the others. It felt different. Something in him drew in the lyrics, head loud. He blinked.

…He's not hiding. Is he? Hiding what? He’s- no. Just- Breathe in-

“-Who are you hiding from, across the table with a penny in each eye?

Don't ask me to explain, don’t ask me to explain-"

His breath escaped, arms trembling as his body froze. He didn't understand. He couldn't explain. He wanted to cry. Something was unravelling.

“I'd like to marry all of my close friends, and live in a big house together by an angry sea,”

He sobbed.

He did, he thought, with surprise, as the tears fell.

“Am I the devil's marbles don't move on without me,

Who will be watching my body when I sleep?

Who will I believe in?”

Something… yeah.

Something��happened.

Because suddenly, all that stress, all that confusion, all that loathing, was detangling, and the tears ran deep, ran painful, silent, wheezing screams escaping as the sobs continued. He couldn't breathe. His chest was tight. His head swam, and he felt oh so light headed. Light. He felt light. Happy. He felt alive.

He felt understood.

He- he wanted that! He could- he wanted to live with his friends, with Tubbo with Ranboo. He wanted to stay as friends. He wanted them to protect him, to be able to trust them, to be able to protect them in turn, he wanted to reside with them, he wanted to sleep amongst them, to have them watch over him, safe, he wanted to wake up in the morning and see the sun rise with then, he wanted to have casual dinner with them, he wanted to grow old together with them. As friends. As friends.

Friends.

What a lovely thing…

He could… he could live with his friends…

He could build a family with his friends.

And he didn't even care at that moment that he didn't know how Tubbo and Ranboo would feel about that. He didn't care whether they'd want him at their house, whether they'd want him around at all. He didn't even care, at that moment, if he couldn’t join them.

Because he realized that it was a possibility at all. Just the prospect, just the thought, the realization, that spending your life, being intimate, finding a stable ground, with your friends, not romantic partner, was possible, that it was possible to not be able to feel otherwise, that it was shared by other people, who wrote this song, who sung it, who had thought about it…

It meant he couldn't be that alone after all.

“It's so easy to lie to myself,

And pretend that I could love you, but I can't"

And oh so comforting it was, that he couldn't.

 

***

 

“Ey, Ranboo! Bitchboy!”

Ranboo suppressed a smile, an exasperated sigh hissing through his teeth. Tail swishing, he glanced to the other boy, who was down below, standing in the snow.

“C'mere!! I gotta give you something.” He yelled.

Ranboo raised a brow, but complied, closing the window he had been looking out of. After making a quick detour to check on Michael, he made his way down the stairs and stepped out of the doorway and into the light. Tommy bounded to him, big grin on his face. He seemed jumpier than usual. Ranboo smiled in turn. “what is it?”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it, instead going to rummage through his bag. What he took out was a… box? “Here, fuckboy.”

Ranboo winced, taking the container. “Don't call me that.”

“Why, what does it mean?”

Ranboo stared. “Just…. Don't.”

Tommy blinked, laughing nervously. “o-okay.”

Moving on, Ranboo inspected the item in his hands. It was medium sized, and made of simple, but elegant, smooth black wood. On the top, there was a leather sign embedded in it, with the word Beloved stitched into it. His ears flickered. This seemed… awfully nice. “What’s in it?”

Tommy scoffed. “Just open it, you twat.”

Ranboo, with a glance, could see the anxious way Tommy was holding himself, seeming impatient and uncomfortable. So he wasted no more time, and clicked open the surprisingly sturdy iron latch after a moment of struggling, and what awaited him inside was…

“…Discs…?”

Ranboo held his breath, fingers twitching as he held the gift. …was it a gift?

Tommy was staring at the ground. “Yeah. You know, I’ve just been traveling around, collecting, and I wanted to…” He seemed to shake himself lightly, hands wringing. “I wanted to give you some, I guess. That… yeah. These are yours.”

Ranboo was stiff, still perceiving the actual gift in his hands, that looked hand made, that was hand picked, that Tommy had worked to attain, just to give to him. His tail curled, and he carefully, delicately closed it's lid and hugged it close to his chest. “I… Thank you. Thank- O-oh wow…”

Tommy scowled. “You look like a fish. It's not a big deal. Just… take a listen sometime, won't ya?”

“Y-yeah!” Ranboo reverently nodded, cursing the way his eyes felt misty. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll definitely listen, and cherish it. Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy curtly nodded. “Alright. Pog.” And then, he was turning around, walking away with a quick “Share it with your family, too, some day. Bye.” Thrown or his shoulder.

And then, he was gone.

 

***

Tubbo heard music down the hall.

Ears tilting towards the pleasant sound, he skipped with bare feet over to the source, evening light casting warm glow through the windows as he went. When he arrived, to what was Michael's bedroom, he found Ranboo on the couch, curled gently over their son, head resting on his little head as he seemed to just… listen, wistful. Michael was listening too, letting out a little yawn as he turned his head to snuggle even deeper into his parent's warm embrace. Tubbo smiled softly at the scene.

Quietly, he patted over to them both, Ranboo eventually noticing him and watching him as he did. Tubbo buried a hand in Ranboo's hair, and the other leaned in. “What are you listening to?”

Ranboo didn't rush to explain, letting the comforting silence fill the space. When he spoke, it reminded Tubbo of soft flower petals and honey. “I didn't know Tommy's music taste was so…”

Tubbo blinked, turning to the disc lazily turning on the jukebox near them.

“-But in the end, I don't really care what you think,

Cause the bottom line is you make me happier than I’ve ever been...”

“wholesome.” He chuckled, fondly.

Tubbo hummed, unsurprised. “Tommy gave you these?”

Ranboo leaned more heavily in the couch. “Yeah. I don't know why, but…”

Tubbo's smile only deepened as he thought. Slowly, he replied, “I think he just wanted to show you he cared.”

Ranboo seemed to lose his breath a little, looking up at the other. “You think so…?”

Tubbo carded his fingers through Ranboo's hair, looking past Ranboo's twitching ears. “Tommy doesn't do things like these without reason. If he gave you something, it’s safe to say you mean a lot to him. He doesn't like to show it, usually, but… that I know.”

Ranboo stared at the turning of the discs, breathing softly. His tail curled around Michael. “Oh.”

Tubbo sat down at his feet and joined in.

Hearts warm, they laid there and listened until the sun had cast it's last rays and the jukebox no longer had a melody to spin.

 

***

 

Tommy sat behind the counter, feet on the counter, just trying to eat his discount chips while some people were being dumb children.

“Stop throwing the fucking food! I'll have to clean this up later!” He whined, to which Tubbo and Ranboo just threw him a glance, Tubbo’s apathetic and Ranboo's at least vaguely guilty, before Tubbo went right back and threw another gummy worm Ranboo's way.

Tommy scowled. “Seriously. At least pick them up and eat them.”

Ranboo made a face of disgust. “I'm not gonna eat candy off the floor, Tommy.”

“Yeah, some of us don't eat mud, Tommy.” Tubbo added.

“There’s no fucking mud here! It's a clean floor! You can totally pick them up and eat them, what the fuck!”

Tubbo raised his brows, staring. “Okay, then go and eat them, trash boy.”

“Okay, that's it.” Tommy raised to his feet, left his chip bag on the table and ran to Tubbo. Tubbo squawked, crawling onto the armchair he was reclining in to curl into a ball around his bag, but Tommy just threw himself onto the armchair with him, trying to reach for the candy. Which, considering the position, it was more like he was half-tickling, half hugging the other more than anything. “Give me that.”

Tubbo just burst out laughing, trying to hide deeper into the couch, attempting to kick the other away. “St-Stoppp!”

“C'mon, you disobeyed my shop's rules, I’m just confiscati-"

Something hit his head. Tommy stilled.

Ranboo peeked from behind his own candy bag, before digging into it again.

Tommy laid off of Tubbo slightly, raising like a puffed up cat. “Ranboo, you fuck!”

Tubbo laughed again, and Tommy was about to go on a murder spree, only for all the commotion to halt when they heard a sudden 4th voice.

Michael.

“Oh shit.”

Ranboo sighed. “He's awake. C'mon.”

Tubbo sighed as well, rolling out of the couch and dragging his feet towards the source of the oinks. “For the record, this is not my fault.”

Both of the other boys gave him the stink eye, but in the name of preserving needed ceasefire they held their tongues.

Michael was sitting up in Tommy's bed that resided in the backrooms, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and hiccuping. Tubbo reached for him, lifting him up. “Aww, did we wake you up? I'm sorry, little bossman.”

Michael clutched Tubbo's shirt, muttering something in piglin.

“He's asking what all that noise was.” Tommy quickly translated, before turning his eyes back to the kid and saying something soft in piglin back. Michael listened, seeming to quiet a little.

Ranboo, gathering that it was an affirmation, smiled and took one of Michael's hooves gently. “Yeah, we were just having fun. Do you want to have fun, too, Michael?”

Michael’s big eyes widened, and he wiggled in Tubbo's grip. “Ye! Ye!”

They chuckled, and Tubbo transferred his hold of Michael to Ranboo, who led the way in making it back to the front of the shop, chatting with his son all the while.

Tommy bumped his shoulder with Tubbo's as they walked, but didn't say anything further. Tubbo bit back a grin.

The next hour was spent feeding Michael and letting him listen to some new discs. Tommy even remembered he had some records that were in piglin, some songs, some stories, and put them on, which seemed to enrapture Michael quite a bit, immersed in the new voices and tales and familiarity. The three boys let him sit in Ranboo's lap and get lost in his own world, residing on a couch together and quietly chatting, around them comfortingly dark walls, bookshelves and the smell of wood and candles.

Eventually, the conversation steered.

“You know, Tommy, why don't you join us?”

…huh?

Tommy blinked, willing his breathing to restart and for the words to come. “W-what?”

Tubbo looked at him with warm eyes and a trepidant smile. “Like, how would you feel about coming to Snowchester? Live with us?”

Ranboo waved his hand. “Of course, you don't have to! But we just thought, you know, if you'd like a bit more, uh, company…”

“We want to be with you, is all.” Tubbo added quietly.

Tommy's heart raced, and he only blinked more, hands clutching the fabric of his pants. “B- be with me… are you…” he gulped down the butterflies clogging down his windpipes, still trying to understand that this is real. “are you sure…?”

Ranboo grinned, patting Michael's head idly. The piglin looked up at them. “Yeah! You're family, Tommy, after all.”

Tubbo tilted his head. As Tommy was still struggling to respond, he assured, “You don't have to if you don't want to, big man. No pressure.”

Tommy laughed, weak and breathless, but bright. “No, I-I’d- I'd really want that, but…” he gestured, trying to put his worries to sudden coherent sentences. “wouldn't that be… awkward? Like… you two, just, l-lovebirds," he chuckled clumsily, “and then there's… me, just, there?”

Tubbo shared a look with Ranboo, then turned back and laughed. “You won't be a third wheel, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, it's not like we’re really romantic partners, even, it'll be fine.” Ranboo said.

Tommy stilled.

Blinked.

“Uhw- what?”

The other two tensed, Tubbo quickly glancing at his husband before grimacing, thinking deep on how to explain it. “You know, we… we're not really… romantic? We just decided to marry? But we're… not platonic either, it's…”

“I-It's something inbetween. Queerplatonic is the word? I think?”

“It's hard to explain-"

“There's- there's a word for that? And you were- Like. Friends? Living together, this whole time??” Tommy reeled, head in hand.

“Well, not exactly friends, or at least, with how we decide to label our relationship, but… yes?”

“Oh my-" Tommy slumped forwards, now both of his hands holding his head upright, just. Breathing. “Shit. What the fuck. I…” he laughed, wrecked.

Tubbo and Ranboo stared at him, uncomfortable. Tubbo frowned. “Look, if you… if you're gonna say something, I’d rather-"

“No- nono, it's…” he raised his eyes, slowly, like coming out of a cave and into the light. His words tripped upon his tongue, but he was so eager to know. “So you two don't want… romantic partners?”

They blinked. “Not… particularly, no.” Ranboo replied. “…are you okay?”

Tommy laughed. It sounded stilted even to his ears, senses muddled as he was wrapped up in his own head, his own elated feelings, his heart nearly bursting at the seams. “I-I’m not alone.”

Tubbo stared, but then his eyes softened. He sighed, and his smile was immensely gentle, while looking at his friend. “Oh, Tommy…” Ranboo, beside him, wilted the same.

Michael, inbetween them, looked at all three of them silently.

“…Do you want a hug?” Tubbo quietly offered.

Tommy quickly nodded, slumping into Tubbo's side and burying his face in Tubbo's soft hair, not even caring for the way one of his horns poked into his cheek slightly. He held the other, and Tubbo held him. He felt the end of Ranboo's tail drape over his leg.

With a delicate tone and worn vocal chords, he quietly, and simply, admitted. “I'd love that. I'd really love that. Living with you three.”

Tubbo tightened his hold.

That night, Tommy fell asleep not alone, but with his two other closest people, his family. Safe, warm, with that insistent nagging at the back of his chest cavity, that told him he was alone, that he was wrong about himself, that he never even knew himself at all, finally silenced.

He had never felt more at home.

[blackradandmad]

why blippi is rotting yr children's brains

preface: i literally expect no one to read this. it is an essay length, strong opinion piece critiquing a niche youtube-based children's show that i don't expect most of y'all to even have knowledge of lol. but like, i promise that even if you know nothing about what i'm talking about, in my incredibly, super humble opinion, it's a good piece of writing and interesting nonetheless. anyway if you read this whole thing for some reason yr really hot and we should kiss.

i thoroughly vet everything my child watches before he watches it, episode by episode. and we rarely watch youtube for entertainment; we usually just look up educational videos when he has a question about something and wants more detail than i can provide him. and that's mainly because children's content on youtube is so fucking troubling and distressing. i don't judge parents who give their children a tablet at a restaurant at all bc i've been there and sometimes it's easier on everyone to just put on a video and avoid a giant scene, but i do judge parents who just leave their children alone with youtube kids on autoplay.

take stevin john, a literal millionaire who got famous from dressing up as a silly character called blippi and going on tours of places like aquariums, zoos, construction sites, etc and posting it on youtube. this has branched into a whole empire of blippi videos, hulu shows and specials, live shows and tours (that he outsources to another character actor), merchandise and so on. this 30-something year old man cites his main influence as being mr. rogers, but i question if he's ever even seen an episode of that program.

mr. rogers had no background in early childhood development or media production, but he revolutionized the world of children's media, because he respected his audience and didn't shy away from real world situations, all while creating a show with an enormous heart. mr. rogers begins his episodes by inviting the viewer in, literally changing his attire to be more comfortable, and talking about/doing things he genuinely cares about. whereas mr. rogers calmly and maturely addresses the viewer, blippi puts on a high pitched, contrived voice, interjecting every other sentence with a forced exclamation such as, "teehee! we're having so much fun!"

i don't find it a coincidence that john (blippi) is a veteran, either. his videos are completely devoid of the absurd, abstract, childlike thinking that makes children's media fun, creative, and entertaining. his thinking and process is methodical, devoid of emotion, and very superficial. this line of thinking clearly shows the kind of creative sterilization and emphasis on sameness and conformity instilled in the military. blippi simply observes things and interacts with them in a stale, matter-of-fact way. "this ball is purple! this ball is pink! anyway... what's over there? teehee! a car! vroom, vroom!" objects are colors, toy cars don't do anything but drive, curiosity is simply not encouraged.

he uses the "it's educational!" excuse to hide the fact that his show lacks everything that makes media a valuable resource for children to consume in the first place. further than identifying colors, numbers, and the occasional letter or shape, there is just this total lack of children's need for social and emotional development. when mr. rogers breaks the fourth wall to address the viewer and let them know they're special, it feels authentic and natural, because we've spent the last half hour building whole worlds with diverse characters and unique stories in a pretend neighborhood, learning about and enjoying different musical instruments, being exposed to and making friends with (even if parasocially, it is still a real bond to children when done properly) children who are similar to us in character regardless of physical or environmental differences, feeding the fish, making art together, and so on. when blippi tells the viewer, "you are very special, and i enjoy spending time with you!" it falls completely flat and feels unearned, because the last half hour was spent running around a soft play center pointing at bright, colorful objects, visiting interesting locations like farms or fruit production factories while failing to acknowledge the humanity of the humans actually working there (everything is machine or product focused; the human workers are simply an extension of the machine), learning "fun facts" about elephants that just list attributes of elephants, not taking the opportunity to inform the viewers of elephants' intelligence, or diet, or matriarchal society. it is a loud, sensory overwhelming display of a man so disconnected from the social and emotional needs and desires of children that he assumes they're stupid, easily entertained idiots who only need some silly dances and fast-moving cartoon graphics to give their attention (meaning time and desire to purchase products meaning $$$). john clearly views his audience as a means to gaming the algorithm and ultimately a paycheck by the hollow way he addresses them.

the show is so narcissistic, so focused on all the fun blippi is supposedly having, but he lacks any of the character traits that make individual children's show hosts memorable, so much so that he was able to have someone else who doesn't even vaguely resemble him dress as blippi and impersonate him and host the show or appear at live shows, and it went unnoticed by most of his toddler and child audience. the show is so formulaic and the character of blippi is so unmemorable that instead of taking the blue's clues route of developing a story of the host leaving for college and his brother now stepping in, or making some sort of believable excuse for the change in actors, they can simply swap him out with some random guy and not acknowledge it at all. although a comedy show for older children, the amanda show in no way could or would try to replicate the show with the same name but swapping out amanda bynes with a random teenage girl who is clearly not amanda bynes. it's weird and nonsensical and shows that his character is so much of a farce put on for a paycheck that not even his dedicated audience is affected or even cares when he is replaced by a random, unknown person.

this is completely garbage content made by an opportunist with no experience with children who saw his nephew watching children's youtube content, took it at complete surface level and still hasn't realized that while children's content only looks and feels so easy, entertaining, and enriching because it is so hard to do well. even with outsourcing his music, that aspect of the show still sucks. famous and successful children's musician, raffi, is known for his song describing the life of a little white whale, called "baby beluga." it opens with a calm strumming of his guitar, followed by the lyrics, "baby beluga in the deep blue sea/swim so wild and you swim so free/heaven above/sea below/and a little white whale on the go." is it silly and kind of pointless? yes, but the point is that he is captivating children and showing them the fun of listening to music, dancing, singing, and appreciating art. the "excavator song" featured in an episode of blippi about construction vehicles opens with what sounds like a default garageband loop and the flatly sung lyrics, "i'm an excavator/i'm an excavator/hey dirt, see you later/i'm an excavator." i don't feel i have to meticulously analyze the aforementioned lyrics; the stark contrast should speak for itself.

i have a million more criticisms about both blippi specifically and youtube children's content as a whole, but this is already so long and i doubt many people will get this far anyway. it's an issue i was completely apathetic towards until i had my own child and had to wean him off these kinds of junk food shows because i realized the fast-paced visuals and bright colors and repetitive songs/lyrics were putting him in this spaced-out, fugue state, and he thought he could demand this show or that show whenever he wanted. the moment he started regularly yelling things like, "watch! cars!" or "no! click it!" i knew i had to be a lot more invested in the things he watched even if just for entertainment or as a soothing message. i showed him an episode of mr. rogers yesterday and feared it would be too slow to hold his attention, but he was mesmerized, greeting and interacting with mr. rogers verbally, asking me, "what's that?" to different objects on the screen. since purging this low-brow children's entertainment, he has had a noticeable increase in attention span and concentration, can focus on a task for longer amounts of times, is more likely to "read"/look through books without me initiating it, and doesn't throw a fit when the tv/my laptop is off.

i just know that for me, growing up with so much unsupervised internet access definitely led me to real-world pain and consequences, and it seems like now children are born with an iphone as an extension of their arm. if my child is going to be consuming videos, i'm definitely supervising every second and am going to be highly critical of the videos and the credentials (or lack thereof) of the creators and team behind it. but i also know, from pure observation admittedly, that parents letting youtube kids autoplay parent their children for hours at a time is not an uncommon occurrence. and it worries me that a generation of children are being raised on videos that rely on being as loud and bright and superficially enjoyable as possible. what's the use of a child knowing their colors and alphabet if they don't know how to treat people with kindness and empathy and respect? there is something wrong for a children's show host to plug the spelling of his name at the end of his videos ("well, that's the end of this video. but if you wanna watch more of my videos, just type in my name! can you spell my name with me? b-l-i-p-p-i!") after essentially rotting his audiences' brains for a half hour. there's something so insidious about the prioritization of naming different parts of construction vehicles over honest depictions of and conversations about dealing with feelings, or why someone with autism may act differently than you, or what to do when you feel lonely, or ways to make art and express yrself creatively. also, not to mention the blatant police propaganda and outright worship is seriously jarring; as a black mother to a visibly non-white child, i cannot sit there and watch blippi show kids how to be a bootlicker for the shittiest profession on earth, but that could be a whole essay in and of itself.

anyway, thanks for reading, if yr looking for quality children's content, i recommend, in no specific order: mr. rogers, sesame street, the electric company, molly of denali, daniel tiger, bluey!, blue's clues, the odd squad, word party, trash truck, puffin rock, uhh... that's definitely not an extensive list but that's just off the dome!!! ok bye y'all <333

[embraceyourdestiny]

Found more of my observations so part two. Again, it’s rambley so it might not make sense. Also the beginning (1-5ish) is mostly the same as the first post.

Part one

me noticing things and speculating while watching all of roxas’ cutscenes bc i love my boy

1). Sora and Roxas’ “Where am I? Who’s there? Who are you?” I literally never realized that was the two of them having a conversation inside Roxas’ heart and from what I can recall I think that’s the only time “heart talks” canonically happen? I know it’s a really big thing in the fandom but I can’t remember a single other time that two people in one heart/body actually talked to each other and not one of them inside calling out. Although, you can probably count all the times Kairi made comments in KH1, like in Merlin’s house and such

2). The parallels between Roxas, Roxas’ life in the Org, and Ven’s time at the Land of Departure via people telling them the things they are experiencing weren’t happening. It’s probably done so intentionally with Roxas and his Org life but it still makes you draw an immediate connection between Ventus. Both of them were experiencing strange things and yet those around them told them they weren’t, either intentionally or because they didn’t think it was true, and in the end it lead them down the path those manipulating them wanted to go down and resulted in their demise.

2.5). Side note since this was specially about when Roxas tripped, the fact that Riku jacked Roxas for on the surface no reason at all is still hilarious. Like yeah you could say it was to cause turmoil and doubt within Roxas or to stop him from leaving the data world via train (if that was even possible) or even because DiZ just couldn’t make a whole beach area with everything that was going on, especially if that beach was Destiny Islands because remembering what happened to Xion when she went, it definitely would’ve messed things up, but it’s a lot funnier to think that Riku wanted to talk to him and also was like “you know what, fuck this kid I’m taking his money” lmaoo

3). Why do the twilight gang eat sea salt ice cream?? Obviously it’s because of Roxas, but with his precious memories missing I don’t think he would’ve noticed if they didn’t without being prompted. Sure, deep down it would’ve probably felt wrong to him to not do “the things friends do” with his friends, but since he had no recollection of it, I don’t think it would’ve mattered. Did DiZ intentionally program this? He had to of, which at first seems uncharacteristically kind of him, but I came to the conclusion that it was probably just a way to mess with Roxas even more and get him to do his bidding. Like I said, without prompting Roxas probably never would’ve noticed, but with prompting, suddenly the things he supposedly did all the time feel wrong. And if that’s wrong, why would he not question the rest of what’s happening, leading him to the end result of finding out the truth and returning to Sora? I could totally be BSing right now but DiZ is insidious, so I think it makes sense lol.

4). Roxas had an airplane in his room while Sora had a pirate ship. Besides obvious parallels between Sora and Roxas and sky and sea, is it possibly because Ven had his glider and could fly around and since Roxas had a part of him in his heart, that passed on to him? It makes me wonder how much of his room was his genuine interests/subconscious thought and how much of it was DiZ’s programming because there’s no way he could’ve known about that right?

5). Roxas sitting a considerable distance between him and the gang, not only showing his disconnect from his “life” in twilight town but his disconnect from his actual life in general, and possibly even from Sora. Visual symbolism is so powerful!!

6). I have to wonder how much of this “data” twilight town is actually data and how much of it is real. “Data” is honestly quite vague in KH but there’s no way DiZ was able to make all of this from scratch right? Why would he even, considering how much work that is? He had to have some how been able to use part of the source and I feel like this is backed by the relationships between the characters. DiZ is... an unsociable personal, to say the least. I do not trust his ability to portray genuine, realistic relationships between people and be as convincing as it is to Roxas and the player and a good example is the shopping scene with Pence and Olette. When Pence says “he’s stalling...” it sounds as if Roxas has done this before. And when Olette responds with a teasing voice that she’ll see him later, it sounds genuine and knowing, like this is just same old Roxas. It could just be good voice acting lol, and we know that “same old Roxas” isn’t possible since it isn’t real, but what if it was? What if there was a piece of their hearts in the data and their hearts had been able to bond in that miniscule amount of time and play out as it would if they were actually friends? There’s no way DiZ could’ve gotten the dynamics down so well like that, not with Seipher’s gang and the twilight gang, and not with Hayner, Roxas, Pence, and Olette themselves. And it’s even more obvious when you remember that the Org was meddling, sending in Dusks to find Roxas. There’s no way DiZ was able to make up the whole stolen pictures thing because he didn’t want the Org to mess with it. Sure, he knew they’d come and he planted data to get them off the trail, but between all that chaos I really can’t see him bothering making tensions between Seipher and the gang and making the town suspect them, it seems too natural to be made up data. He had to have some how take either their hearts or the entire town and everything in it’s essence and put it into data. How, I have no clue, but it doesn’t make sense otherwise. So, if their hearts of essence was sampled, even a little bit, of course they felt a connection to Roxas (and Sora) even though none of it was real. The heart is a powerful and mysterious thing and I don’t think that would’ve been possible if all of it was pixels and codes.

(On top of this, we know worlds are in some way sentient and can influence things on their own, so with even the smallest piece of the actual twilight town, the data twilight town could still function as normal. Everything would most likely be minute compared to the real thing, but it would still be there none the less. Time still seems to function, if it wasn’t real there wouldn’t be tournaments and the end of summer and such. DiZ was far too busy to be attentive to each and every person in Twilight Town, keep up with the in town events and flow of time, and repair Sora while stalling the Org. There’s proof of this because we can presume that KH3 twilight town is how twilight town usually is and from what I remember even when you go to the real TLTW in KH2 there are things like smoking chimneys and stuff showing it’s lived it, meaning he only sampled a small piece of it but it was still able to exist as a world even with that tiny piece. He effectively made an entire, functional world in data like the evil genius he is. This might not be that big of a revelation considering Tron, but Tron really is pixels and codes, that’s the difference. Tron is an AI who was able to grow a heart of his own, and also to some extent the CPU or whatever must’ve had one too to have that much awareness, but there’s no nature in Space Paranoids, no townspeople and school happening, so it isn’t the same. Twilight Town is a real world, even if it’s “data” and that’s just interesting because imagine what you could do with that information, in-universe or storytelling wise.

I guess this is technically touched on upon in UX because of all the data worlds but I don’t know if the fact that they were still real worlds is stressed anymore than it is in KH2, which is to say not. And data being real is definitely talked about in Recoded with Data Riku and Sora from what I remember. I haven’t seen much of UX though so I could be wrong but I feel like if it was talked about I would’ve heard about it lol.)

7). ROXAS DID VANITAS’ CARTWHEEL?? I literally never noticed this before omg so there really is a connection between them to some extent!! Of the male heart mates, Rox and Vani seem to have the least amount of attention put on them both in canon and canon which seems off to me since they’re both the “darkness” or anger particularly in Roxas’ case of their lighter halves, so I kinda doubted if there really was one but there is omg!! Now all the boys can (probably?) breakdance lol when will Xion!!!

8). It’s pretty funny that the Dusks just. Stand there and while while Roxas does his station of waking stuff. They’re like yeah we being controlled by someone else who wants to end him but we also respect him and wanna give him a fair chance lol, as evidence by them calling him their “liege” which I still don’t understand but now I’m imagining being Roxas’ pets and cuddling up to him and everyone is looking at him like O.O lol

9). Obviously I knew Roxas’ SoW heavily referenced Sora’s but I didn’t realize it also had a scene foreshadowing when they met later AND it parallels Sora’s even more by showing the “dark” side of Roxas aka his real self before he turns into the giant nobody, just like Sora’s shadow turning into Darkside, only Roxas’ happens in less than a second so it’s really fast and hard to tell

9.5). Omg I never noticed that they show us that Roxas is a nobody during this! It shows his hand, then it shows the twilight thorn. Same thing when it shows his foot than its foot that’s so cool!

10). More on “how true is this data” based on relationships!! There’s literally nothing that can convince me that DiZ would care about Roxas’ friends having drama, he’d even probably call it “drivel,” so I really can’t see him making Hayner upset that Roxas was with Seipher. They’re!! Real!!!

11). Olette saying they didn’t go to the beach because it wouldn’t be the same without Roxas hurts so bad, esp bc later when they’re talking about knowing him and stuff <//3

12). I am in so much pain over this one. I never made the connection between Roxas fighting his best friend twice, once Xion and once Hayner. No wonder he looked so uncomfortable, they made him relive one of the most horrible things that’s ever happened to him and that he’s ever had to do what the fuck 💔💔💔

13). I like the effort made to show that Roxas is friends with the whole twilight gang. It’s easy to assume he’s only really good friends with Hayner but him talking with Olette and checking out the seven wonders with Pence feels really nice and genuine

14). It makes me so sad they keep making Roxas look like a bad friend especially because he’s a GOOD friend and it’s not his fault. The pictures, losing the money, accidentally getting caught up with Seifer, losing the blue marble, none of it is his fault and thankfully the twilight gang are nice enough to not hold it over him but it still sucks like hasnt Roxas been through enough :(

15). It’s really sad we’ll never see Roxas as that somewhat happy go lucky, or at least carefree, kid he was in kh2 prologue because he never WAS that kid. He’s been through so much and his life has been so hard it’s really unfair. I hope post kh3 he can find at least some kind of peace, but he’ll probably never be that carefree again :(

16). Oh my god wait wait when Sora corrected himself form saying “the five of us— I mean, the six of us” WAS HE TALKING ABOUT ROXAS??? IM GONNA CRY 😭😭😭 I once saw someone say he meant Jiminy but as much as it sucks Jiminy isn’t that important to be included in the “gang that’s gonna save the world” and Sora seemed to say it on reflex, like he miscounted and corrected himself. He could’ve included Roxas but forgot himself, since he only just awoke when his heart was with Roxas not that long before. Omg I’m so sad and happy at the same time about this

17). Okay now I’m just watching someone play KH2 bc I wanted to see someone’s reaction to the prologue bc it’s so good but now they’re with the fairies and oh my god I never realized the mirrors in that room depict the different drive forms but specially that one explicitly mentions Sora being overcome by darkness aka Anti form?? That’s so chilling and a cool but subtle way to reveal all the drive form powers right off the back but you wouldn’t notice it til later

18). So. Roxas can double wield because he has both Sora and Ven’s hearts in him and Sora is able to double wield because when Roxas returned to him he either a). passed all his skills including double wielding to him, or b). Roxas legitimately was chosen to wield a keyblade and since we know he had a heart, when he returned to Sora Sora then also technically had two other hearts in him, granting him a second keyblade. Interesting.

19). Hmmm never realized that the samurai nobodies, which belong to Roxas, don’t appear until he goes back to Sora, almost as if they’re trying to follow their leader but then Sora keeps getting rid of them

20). Sora keeps bumping his chest with his fist just like Hayner does T^T I don’t know if that’s because Roxas actually did it or Roxas just picked up the habit from Hayner but I’m soft

[ravennm84]

Lyre Festival Justice

Here is the sequel to Lyre Festival Fraud where you get to see exactly what happened to Lila during her long weekend after she went back to Italy. I thought, at first, that I may have gone to far with the salt... But it’s Lila and I really don’t like her character. So, Warm-Fuzzies and enjoy this salty goodness!!

It was a beautiful day in Rome and Lila was enjoying her shopping spree around the city. She and her mother had spent the first few days after moving back to Italy unpacking and getting settled. It was Sunday, and her mother had to go to the embassy to make sure that all of her paperwork had transferred from Paris, which gave Lila the opportunity to spend the money she’d gotten from the idiots from her old class. Really, she couldn’t believe how stupid they all were to have just handed her over €2,000 for a luxury vacation in Venice. She should have gotten at least €3,000 from the class, but that Mari-brat and stick-in-the-mud Adrien had convinced some of them that she was lying. Oh well, €2,000 was better than nothing.

Best part, none of it could be traced back to her. They travelled to Venice on their own, nothing had been written down, her old mobile phone was disconnected and in a landfill somewhere, and she would just tell her mother that she had gotten all her new clothes at a thrift shop she remembered from the last time they’d been living in Rome. And if the idiots got in trouble and tried to say that she was involved, she’d turn on the tears and her mother would side with her like she always did. Seeing a little cafe, she stopped in to get a good cappuccino, it had been too long since she’d had a deceit cup of coffee.

It was mid afternoon by the time she got home. She had made a stop at the thrift store to grab a couple of their shopping bags to hide the real ones inside. It felt wrong to put a Versace skirt in a bargain bag, but one does what one must to keep her life going smoothly. Opening the door to the apartment, she barely caught sight of her mother sitting on the couch before Lila started gushing about how great it was to be back in Italy and all the things she’d missed. 

She prattled on for a couple minutes before noticing that her mother hadn’t said anything. Turning to look at her, Lila flinched when she saw her. Something was seriously wrong, the last time she had seen her mother so angry was when she’d told her that her dad was cheating on her. That hadn’t been true but they had ended up getting divorced anyway, which was to Lila’s benefit since the man had always called her out on her lies.

“Is everything okay, Mama?” She asked cautiously, doing her best to sound and appear small and innocent.

“Sit down.”

Her tone left no room for argument. Lila set down her bags and sat in the chair across from her mother.

“Mama, wha-”

“Be quiet!” She snapped, and Lila shut her mouth. This actually seemed worse than the fight her parents had before they divorced. “I received a very strange email on Friday night, from a former classmate of yours in Paris. It seemed that the majority of your class was under the impression that we were throwing a party for a lot of important politicians, celebrities, and musicians on a private island and you had invited them. I told myself, ‘not my daughter, she would never do something like that’. But the email went on, with a list of the students that were supposedly going on this trip and gave you money for the expenses. Again, I thought ‘Lila would never be so cruel as to steal money from her friends right before we left Paris’. So I told the person who sent me that detailed information, that I would handle it. I still thought it was a joke.”

The teenage girl didn’t even have to listen to the end of this story, she knew that goody-two-shoes Marinette had ratted her out. Lila was fighting every instinct she had to run and lock herself in her room, but if she moved even a little her mother would stop her. She could only sit there and hope that she could come up with some kind of lie to convince her mother that she was being set up.

“Then when I went into the embassy today, my boss pulled me into his office and started grilling me as to why I allowed seven unaccompanied minors entry into the country. I tried to explain that I had no idea what he was talking about, and then he started reading off the names. Do you want to guess why those names sounded so familiar?”

By this point, Lila was practically curling into herself to make herself appear smaller. She had to say something, any lie that would make her mother believe her and only her. Turning on the tears, she buried her face in her hands and spoke between sobs. Fake crying always gave her a few extra seconds to think before she had to speak. “I swear, Mama. I didn’t want to do it. Marinette forced me to take those papers from your office to give to our classmates so they could get into the country without their parents. I never took any money from them, I swear! Marinette was bullying me the entire time we were in Paris, I was scared of what she’d do to me if I didn’t do what she said. You’ve got to believe me!”

“So you’re saying that you didn’t tell your class about some non-existent party on a private island, had no knowledge of who was coming into Italy, where they were going, or anything like that?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed as she brought out her mobile phone.

Her hands were shaking as she kept her face buried in her hands, something about her mother’s tone  and the way she spoke made this feel like a trap. But she couldn’t backtrack now, Marinette was her way out and she had to stick with it. So she nodded as she continued to sob into her hands.

“Then please explain this to me.” Her mother turned the phone towards her and Lila looked up, her face falling in horror when she heard her own voice. It was a video of her telling her class about who was going to be at the party that she and her mom were organizing, how she was going to need to know for sure who all was coming before the weekend, and Marinette had somehow gotten video of Alya and Nino each handing her €300!

It took longer than she would like to admit for the shock to wear off, but she was smart enough to stick to her original story. “It’s fake! Marinette must have made it to get me in trouble. Max probably helped her, he’s really good with computers. It’s all too convenient to be true. I mean, she sends you all this information about which people are going, how much money they gave me, and a story about a party on a private island in Venice, that anyone would be able to see is clearly fake. Can’t you see that I’m being set up?”

Her mother’s eyes grew harder as she stood from her chair, causing Lila to shrink even further into her own. 

“You say that this is all a set up and you had no idea where your classmates were going in Italy, but you just told me the exact city where they were found. You left them waiting on a dock for you to come ferry them to that non-existent private island, and don’t even bother saying that you know which city because of the video I just showed you, because it never names the city they were in.”

Well, crap. She was about to try another tactic, but her mother cut her off before the first syllable left her mouth.

“Young lady, do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?” she yelled, her face beginning to turn a purplish-red and began pacing the room. “You forged my signature on multiple federal documents, endangered the lives of multiple minors, committed theft, and god knows how many other laws you’ve broken. I can’t protect you from this! You will be facing federal charges for what you’ve done!”

Lila felt her stomach drop to her ankles. “But-but that was all in Paris, and I had diplomatic immunity while I was there!”

“It became an international incident when you forged an ambassador’s signature on federal documents that endangered minors! My boss gave me a choice,” her voice grew even harder and colder than before. “Either you answer for what you’ve done and plead guilty, or I lose my job and we both go to trial for what you’ve done.” 

“You’d let me go to jail for one little lie? It’s not like anyone got hurt!” Lila screamed, standing from her chair in a panic. This was much worse than she’d imagined. 

“And what if they had been?” Her mother screamed back. “What if they had been kidnapped and sold into human trafficking? What if one of them had fallen off the dock and drowned in the channel or hit by a boat? I would be held responsible for that because you forged my signature! Do you not care about the people around you at all? What is wrong with you?”

“But nothing happened to them! It’s their own fault for being stupid enough to believe such an obvious lie. And you’re taking their side over mine? How dare you call yourself my mother and claim to love me!” 

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for your bad behavior!” Her mother yelled back as she advanced on her, making her fall back onto the chair. Mme. Rossi looked back at the shopping bags she had knocked over when she had turned, revealing the Versace bag. Tilting her head back, she took multiple deep breaths before looking at her daughter.

“This is what’s going to happen. You are going to return everything you bought today, and you are going to explain to the managers of each store exactly why you are returning everything.” Lila was about to protest, but one look from her mother had her mouth snapping shut. “We will also be clearing out your savings to pay back your classmates for the money you took, their travel expenses, their parents travel expenses, and any money they lost while being away from their jobs to retrieve their children. After that, you will be standing trial for forgery and fraud. If you know what’s good for you, you will go before the judge and apologize profusely for what you’ve done and listen to everything the judge tells you. If you’re lucky you may receive a lenient sentence; but either way, you can expect your next school to be a reformatory school. And if you try to fight me on any of this, I will let a court appointed attorney with no experience handle your case instead of the family lawyer. Have I made myself clear?”

No longer having to fake her tears, Lila nodded to her mother, resigning herself to the fact that her life had been ruined because her mother didn’t love her and Marinette didn’t know how to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

~oOo~

The rest of the day, Lila was forced to return everything that she bought back to the stores and tell the managers how she had stolen the money from her classmates and then abandoned them in a country and city that they weren’t familiar with. The people that overheard her were horrified by what she had done and the managers banned her from ever shopping in those stores again. After all, if she was willing to steal money from her friends, there was little doubt that she would steal from the stores.

After everything was returned, she was taken to the embassy where they recorded her confession on how she lied to everyone, forged her mother’s signature on the documents she stole, and how she scammed over €2,000 from her former classmates. After the confession was taped, she was taken outside of the embassy and handed over to the police to be kept in a juvenile detention center. She screamed at her mother, not believing that she would just hand her over like that, but the woman looked down her nose at her and said, “It’s time for you to face the consequences of your actions, young lady.” 

When she arrived at the police station, she was relieved to see their family lawyer was waiting for her, although he was less than thrilled by what she had done. He explained that even as a minor, she could be serving 2-6 years just for the forgery of the documents, that wasn’t even factoring in the scam or reckless endangerment of seven minors. If she were to be tried as an adult, she could be serving 6 years for each document, facing serious fines and more time for each classmate she endangered.

After hearing that, Lila had to rush to the trash can to throw up. She couldn’t believe that one little lie could get her into so much trouble. But this wasn’t her fault, none of it was. If there was anyone to blame, it was that goody-two-shoes Marinette Dupain-Cheng. After all the effort she went through to destroy that girl, she just wouldn’t back down. She would make that girl pay for what she’d done. As soon as the charges were all dropped, she would do everything she could, use every dirty trick in the book to force the nosy girl to end her life and stay out of hers.

But that would have to wait for now. For the time being, she would do what her mother said and play her part. Act like the innocent girl that had gotten caught up in her own fibs while trying to make friends in a new country. She didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt or in trouble, she was just so overwhelmed and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She would need to cry a lot, that was a given, but she could do this. Just fake it until she could get her revenge on the girl that ruined her life.

~oOo~Three Months Later~oOo~

Lila hadn’t meant to lose control in front of the judge. She’d spent months locked away with a bunch of low-class delinquents, talking to different lawyers and quack-doctors before going to court. She had been the picture of innocence and childhood regret the second she walked into the courtroom, she was sure to get off all the charges against her. But she and her lawyer had been blindsided. 

The quack-doctors had called her a narcissist and a sociopath, in need of desperate help. To prove that, all of her lies, everything she had said while in Paris had been brought into evidence against her. They’d exposed her truancy and forgery at her old school, found proof of her purposefully getting Marinette expelled, and faking interviews on the Ladyblog which brought her more lawsuits from a bunch of the celebrities she’d lied about. 

Some of her classmates had come to give testimony on what she had done and said during her time in Paris. The goodie-two-shoes brat had even come to Italy to give testimony against her, though Lila hadn’t been allowed in the courtroom while she was there, as Marinette hadn’t felt safe to be in the same room. Lila’s lawyer had actually agreed, probably so she wouldn’t cause a scene. And she probably would have. She would have stabbed her in the face with a pencil, in front of the entire courtroom, if she had the chance.

But the worst had to do with the school security cameras. After M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier had been fired for neglectful and abusive behavior to their students, which had been brought about by the investigation into Marinette’s expulsion, the Board of Governors went farther back through the recordings to see how long the bullying had been going on. What they found was video evidence of Lila grabbing an akuma out of the air and putting it into her earring, and then willingly working with the known terrorist. 

To make matters even worse, Ladybug and Chat Noir had sent a video as testimony of the times Lila had purposefully interfered with their rescues and had led Chat away from Ladybug to make her more vulnerable to the akuma Oni-chan. Her lawyer tried to get the video stricken from evidence as he couldn’t cross-examine the two heroes, but it was denied.

Her parents had been sitting behind her when they showed those videos. When her mother saw them, it was like she completely shut down. She heard her say that she wanted to leave, and Lila watched as her father helped her mother to her feet and lead her out of the courtroom without looking back. 

The judge had been absolutely disgusted with her, going as far as to call her a monster for willingly aiding a terrorist. Since she had already confessed to multiple counts of forgery, fraud, and reckless endangerment of minors, and would now be adding slander and other charges from her time in Paris, the most notable being terrorism; he declared that she would be tried as an adult and was likely to spend the rest of her life in prison.

She’d completely lost it at that point, screaming at the top of her lungs as she jumped over the table to attack the judge. She didn’t remember smashing the water pitcher against one guard's head, scratching another guard across the face, or getting tasered in the back. When she woke up, she was strapped to a bed by her wrists and ankles, her head felt really foggy, and there were a bunch of nurses and orderlies that were keeping keen eyes on her.

Lila Rossi spent the rest of her life heavily medicated in a maximum security mental health hospital. Most every night, the nurses would hear her plotting some kind of scheme to show everyone what a loser Marinette was, but then she would trail off about how she wanted to hear the song Jagged Stone wrote for her or the album she’d help Clara Nightingale write. When she saw people, she would ramble and lie about being a princess or a secret agent, and that she was only here to keep her safe until they came to get her. Over the years, it was all written off as the insane ramblings of a very disturbed girl that would be remaining at the hospital for the rest of her life.

[local-triggerhead]

[Theory/Analysis] The Motives of Each Eugenicist

Wow, look at me rising from the graves and dusting off this account after 800 years like it's nothing. Your Trigger hype beast is back baby, if any of you still remember me.

This post contains spoilers for both Gridman and Dynazenon.

Ahem. I want to make this post to gather my thoughts and better understand the antagonists of the show, as they aren't heavily featured and explored like Akane. It's just my own analysis based on what I can observe in the show, so some parts would be more vague and generate different interpretations. This analysis may seem obvious to some and not so much to others, but I hope it'll offer some clarity regardless. Tl;dr at the bottom.

The General Motive

It's pretty much given in the show. The Kaiju Eugenicists wanted to destroy humanity and create a world where themselves and kaiju can live and be accepted. They believe that the world is a better place as you're no longer being tied down by human bonds, granting you unrestricted freedom beyond even the laws of physics. This is their shared goal. However, each of them have separated purposes and things they want to achieve along with this.

Onija

Let's start with the 2 more obvious cases. Onija clearly stated what he wanted to do - kill all humans. How many times did he yell this out? It's kind of shoved-in-your-face. No other Eugenicists expressed this desire as strongly as he did. At the base level, he simply wanted to live. He was brutally killed once and was determined to not let it happen again no matter what. This is why "I thought I was dead" was a constant running joke. It's also why Onija had a deep personal grudge towards Gauma and humans, who were the cause of his death 5000 years ago.

Juuga

Juuga had a deep admiration for Gauma and looked up to him. Unlike Onija, he didn't wish to oppose Gauma, but to make an alliance instead. When the Eugenicists first appeared, Juuga said:

It's clear from this line that he wanted things to be the way it was 5000 years ago, where they were a group of friends working towards the same goal. He missed and yearned for that carefree time. The original Eugenicist group was the most important thing to him. You can see that he never fought with any other Eugenicists, but remained calm and passive towards them at all times. This attitude only extended towards the Eugenicists, as he had no qualms about killing anyone else for his goal, including the Dynazenon crew.

Even when Mujina stole Dyna Striker, the first thing that came to his mind was using it to negotiate with Gauma and get him back.

Mujina

These last 2 Eugenicists are slightly more complicated to pick apart, as they process things more internally.

At first, Mujina was very indecisive and didn't buy much into this kaiju thing. All she wanted was to finish it quickly so she could leave. She was lost in life and just followed the other Eugenicists around because she had no directions of her own. Then Mujina found Koyomi, someone who also didn't have anything going for himself and just plainly a loser in his life. He was someone she could feel related to. Mujina's attitude supposedly changed after she was tackled by Koyomi, but I believe this just pissed her off and only played a part in her personality shift. The other cause, I think, was Sizumu's encouragement, where she "realized that kaiju is all [she has] got" and that she had to take responsibility for her actions.

Koyomi came to play a major role in episode 11, when Mujina witnessed him starting to look for a job. The only person who she could feel related to was unaffected by the aftermath of the kaiju and moving forward with ease. Meanwhile, Mujina, who had just found her purpose in life, lost it once again and was now completely stuck, as the future where the Eugenicists could live and be accepted was destroyed. When facing such a crisis, one would seek to put the blame on something for all of their problems, and Koyomi just happened to be the perfect target.

Sizumu

Toughest one to crack here, but I'll shoot my best shot. In the beginning, he opposed the Dynazenon crew the least among the Eugenicists. He suggested against killing them, had the most interaction with Yomogi and Yume, and suggested Mujina to return Dyna Striker for seemingly no reasons at all. His main reason for not killing Team Dynazenon was to see more kaiju, and getting close to Yomogi and Yume was for his kaiju to absorb their emotions. However, I believe there was another underlying reason that tied his actions together. He was looking for an alliance.

Contrary to Juuga, the alliance he was looking for didn't only include Gauma, but Team Dynazenon as a whole. To understand why he searched for this, we must first look at what he was. He had an ability that allowed him to hear kaiju voices, which gave him a much deeper understanding of kaiju compared to the other Eugenicists. Due to this, while the others more or less thought of kaiju as a mean to create a world where they can live and be accepted, Sizumu would consider kaiju as his own kind, so much so that he had a severe disconnection with humans. He distanced himself away from even the Eugenicists, almost as if he only tagged along because they shared the same basic goal.

He didn't seek to understand humans, but instead for humans to understand kaiju. His goal was to create a world where not only the Eugenicists were accepted, but kaiju themselves were accepted. He believed that the world was better off like this, because, from his perspective, kaiju could liberate people from human bonds and offer them unlimited freedom. To me, this is rather hypocritical as he never understood why people tied themselves to these bonds in the first place, so he wasn't in a position to say what was better and what wasn't.

Sizumu was the only Eugenicist to mention this kaiju power and express his distaste towards human bonds. He explained this very early on to Yomogi and Yume, and why did he do this, you may ask? Why, to help them understand his views and create an opening for a potential alliance, of course. If his only purpose was to absorb their emotions, then that's quite a lot of unnecessary effort to make himself look friendly and approachable to an uncanny degree, especially when being "friendly and approachable" wasn't his forte. No, he was testing the water to see if he could get them on his side.

Then came an unexpected opportunity for him to determine once and for all if Team Dynazenon can understand and accept kaiju. He let a failed kaiju run free and distracted the Eugenicists away from it (with a tactic he learned from Chise) to see what the Dynazenon crew would do. Some people said that it's to test if any of them were kaiju user, and while that's possible, I think it's a little unlikely. Sizumu only observed them at 2 instances, first was when they started the search for the kaiju, the second was when their beam destroyed the kaiju. Unless the kaiju voices could tell him, there would be no way for Sizumu to know if any of them used Instance Domination, until the very end when Yomogi used it on him. The likelier hypothesis would be: he saw them searching for the kaiju > he saw the kaiju being killed > he surmised that kaiju couldn't exist peacefully with Team Dynazenon, and didn't seem to be particularly happy about it.

From then on, Sizumu decided that they couldn't be his allies thus no longer approached Yomogi or Yume. It seems that he arrived to this final conclusion:

And this is where the series itself left off. Kaiju simply can't co-exist with humans. They are irregulars to the human society. Furthermore, the freedom that they offer can't be allowed to exist as running away from society and real human connections is wrong, even if reality is ugly and difficult to face. This is what make the series similar to Gridman. However, unlike Akane, the antagonists of Dynazenon failed to realized this and didn't get their happy ending.

(A detail that I'd like to mention is that Sizumu was silent during the entire final battle in contrast to the other Eugenicists who were pumping themselves up. It was like he was saying, "Didn't want to do this but I guess you left me with no choice". Though silence can mean anything so it's not a concrete evidence.)

TL;DR and Final Words

This is so much longer than I thought and I really apologize for it. I just don't want to make anyone do logical leaps when reading this post.

Tl;dr:

- Onija wanted to live and had a grudge towards Gauma and humans for causing his death.

- Juuga wanted Gauma to join them again and for things to be back the way it was 5000 years ago. He cared for nothing outside of the Eugenicists group.

- Munija wanted a purpose, found one, then lost it again. She envied Koyomi for regaining his sense of purpose and moving forward with his life.

- Sizumu wanted humans to understand kaiju and a world where kaiju can set humans free from their bonds. Initially considered an alliance with Team Dynazenon, but concluded that them (and people in general) couldn't understand kaiju after all.

- Final message of the show: Go touch some grass and talk to humans you fucking weebs.

Misc

When using Instance Domination, the palms of the Eugenicists always face towards the kaiju. The only exception is the last battle where Sizumu's palm faced towards himself, indicating that the kaiju was inside him. I believe that it was located at the center of his chest, where he shot out that weird magical light beam. Just a small thing I find interesting.

If we want to take it a step further, I believe the seed inside him had already grown into a kaiju, but it was still relatively small until he used Instance Domination on it. Eerie, huh?

And this is more of the theory territory and leaving the analysis, but this could possibly be why he was able to hear kaiju voices. Chise was able to understand Goldburn and translated for him at the end, so maybe having a kaiju inside of you would allow you to understand other kaiju somehow? If this is the case, he would probably have had the kaiju inside of him since 5000 years ago.

There's also this big brain moment from a 4chan user. The resemblance between Yume and Juuga is kinda uncanny considering they're both obsessed with the past.

That's it boys. I'm gonna crawl back into my hole until next century, or until Trigger drops Edgerunners. 8/10 show, VERY underrated gem. Trigger won't stop saving anime.

This post but on Reddit:

[bambi-lesbian-posts]

Thoughts on the REAL West Side Story, 1961 adaptation

So first and foremost, for anyone who hasn't seen it before, West Side Story is a modern (for it's time) adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, and focuses on gang dynamics in New York or New Jersey (I can't remember which). There are two gangs, one is a primarily white gang, while the other is Latino. The two main characters fall in love at a prom or party of some sort.

In typical The Outsiders fashion (though idk if WSS came first or if The Outsiders came first, doesn't matter) the two gangs end up fighting to gain control or authority of the city. Maria, the main female lead, and Annie(?), the girlfriend of the Latino gang's leader, talk together in support of Maria's love life. Annie supports Maria even though she is in love with someone from the opposing gang, and Annie's support is one of the biggest reasons why the two gangs end up fighting in the first place. Her boyfriend, in my personal opinion, takes this as a reason to feel inferior, and he wants to push the other gang out or destroy them completely.

Now when I first watched this movie, I drew multiple comparisons to The Outsiders. In a big part of the movie, one gang jumps a single member of the other. The main problem I find with this though, is that it is the Latino gang that does the jumping. Considering the time this piece was released (the 60s) it bothers me to know that they not only chose gang violence as a topic, but they also chose the poc to be the aggressors. I believe the victim ends up in the hospital, just like Johnny (?) In The Outsiders. Though I'm not the best person to analyze the nuances of this particular part of the piece.

Then, in another part of the movie, the male lead and Maria meet at her place of work, which is a clothing shop or tailor's shop (they make clothes, Maria herself helps makes dresses) and they sing a song together, pretending that some of the wedding clothes are theirs, and they'll be getting married. Now, mind you, they've only know each other for maybe a week? Maria asks him to keep things peaceful at their next fight, so that they can be together. Now this would be fine, but what bothers me is that Maria and the male lead don't talk to anyone about this, at all. In fact, I'm pretty sure the male lead doesn't talk about Maria to the rest of his gang for the majority of the movie, but Maria tells Annie about him, at least. She seems devoted and happy, but the male lead is a bit disconnected even though he is supposedly in love and wanting to be with her.

When the two gangs fight around the middle-ish of the movie, the male lead keeps his promise about peace and tries to break things up, but since he didn't communicate anything to the other members of his gang (and showed up at the fight in the first place) things get really bad, and two people die. The male lead himself murders Maria's brother in the fight. When Maria finds out what he's done, they somehow end up together anyway. I never really understood this part, honestly. She is a teenager, supposedly, and her brother was just murdered by a guy she only knew for a week and a half, TOPS, but she puts that all aside in the span of what is probably a few hours and ends up dating him anyway? I know that this is based on Romeo and Juliet, but come ON.

Then the two of them sleep together, and make plans to run away. Typical teenager behavior, in this situation anyway. Annie comes home after finding out her boyfriend was murdered, but agrees to help Maria run away because she feels sympathy for Maria's love. Maria ends up being held captive by the remaining members of her gang, and she asks Annie to tell the male lead what the situation is. But when Annie enters the store front the make lead is supposed to be in, she gets jumped by his gang, and is essentially gang raped and abused. After all of that, Annie (out of anger and pain, mostly) tells the male lead that Maria was killed because she still loved him.

He later finds Maria outside, and he runs to her (I think he thought she was a ghost) but as he runs, he is shot by a member of the Latino gang. He dies there, and suddenly everyone else in the cast shows up, and they all carry him away. Only one person was arrested during the whole movie (the guy who shot the male lead at the end). And then the feud between the gangs is over as soon as the male lead dies.

Any and all major shifts in tone or emotion are shown through song, and the songs are used primarily to project the character's inner thoughts and feelings about the current events. There are songs sung by the white gang leader where he talks about their plans to fight, and their plans for revenge (after Maria's brother is dead). Most of Maria's songs are about love, and they take place inside the dress shop.

The resolution of the piece as a whole seems a bit ridiculous to me, because the initial conflict between the two gangs did nothing to resolve anything, even the deaths of their own members in the big gang fight at the movie's center. But for some reason, when the male lead dies, everything is hunky-dory and they all carry his dead body together?

Also, the stress of losing their loved one seems to be non-existent to Annie and Maria. She decides to go out with her brothers murderer the SAME DAY he killed him. Annie's behavior makes a bit more sense, especially after the scene where she gets jumped. She even goes to yell at Maria after she finds out her boyfriend was killed by Maria's stupid boyfriend, but she puts it all aside so quickly??? All of it just doesn't make sense on a fundamental level. Nobody is acting the way they should. Not even Romeo and Juliet had the clans reconcile in this way, after the death of the two teens.

[hatari-translations]

Matthías on ‘Men and Responsibility in the Time of #MeToo’

This is a podcast episdode featuring a panel discussion with Matthías in it, titled "Men and Responsibility in the Time of #MeToo". It's quite long, so I'm just going to translate Matthías's comments and what they're in response to.

It's prompted by the 'second wave of #MeToo' going on in Iceland right now, thanks to an unpleasant chain of events involving a prominent podcast host getting a lot of sympathy for supposedly false accusations of sexual violence against him only for two women to then step forward to press charges against him. There's been a lot of emerging discussion in the wake of it, especially about people sympathizing with and believing perpetrators over survivors. Obvious content warning for discussion of sexual assault below.

First, the host asks about men looking inward to reflect on their own past behaviour during this time, and whether they and their friends have been doing so, directing the question first toward Matthías. He responds:

MATTHÍAS: I think so, yeah. I think it's natural and good in this moment to reflect on the past a bit, and perhaps redefine or rediscover, or even - I'm having a hard time even getting words around this. I haven't really expressed myself in this discussion, but yeah, I think I did look back and try to think about boundaries, and I think many people around me are doing that, who have a conscience and want to do right. We're experiencing a kind of - my generation is sometimes called the porn generation - maybe we're kind of discovering a skewed way of thinking that we've grown up with regarding boundaries. So perhaps it's healthy to look back and try to figure out whether you've ever violated a boundary with your ex, or whatever.

And then there's a different matter, discussed in Kastljós yesterday, how if you conclude that you have done so, or your friend has done so, how you go about taking responsibility for that, and I thought that [the Kastljós discussion] was good. I'd really like some kind of education in how to discuss that with friends, what that conversation should look like. If your friend is either accused of something, or determines for himself that he didn't respect his girlfriend's boundaries, or something, in the past - how do you talk to him? I liked hearing yesterday, how did they phrase it, that you should ask permission before apologizing. Not just show up expecting them to sign something absolving you of sin - the conversation should be on the survivor's terms. I don't know. As you said, it's first steps - this is the first time I, at least, express something of worth publicly, or at least I hope it's of worth, I don't know. But it's a really new discussion, and I feel very immature in it, like I don't really have the tools to talk about it. I've just been listening and trying to learn and realize what so incredibly many women around us have been going through, and I feel a certain sense of powerlessness to even talk about it. So thanks for pushing us to get into it.

After a while, Árni Matthíasson mentions the first step is to realize that men grow up learning a lot of toxicity and you have to realize that you're in that position; Matthías adds, "And that you're immensely privileged."

Later, they're talking about how men often don't have the courage to speak up against sexism and toxicity in other men, and how there's a kind of codependency in letting it slide. Matthías adds, "I think all guys can relate to that, from elementary school onwards." They talk about "perpetrator codependency" (gerandameðvirkni), the phenomenon of sympathizing with and failing to object to the perpetrators. Matthías suggests that could be applied to locker room talk too (something that'd come up earlier), "sexist codependency": you don't think of yourself as a sexist but you still go along with these situations.

MATTHÍAS: And speaking of having the tools to talk about it [the others had agreed with his mention of this], I would really like to be better at just being able to nicely and naturally in the situation, but still firmly, explain that I don't think disrespect towards women is okay, whether it's joking or not, without just getting the perpetrator, the sexist, to go on the defensive. To learn to just draw that line in the sand of Hey, you're not funny. It's something we need to practice, I think, as men.

In response to Árni talking about believing survivors on principle and refusing to be neutral, Matthías responds:

MATTHÍAS: You talked about the neutral way, and you were asking if it's hard for men to step up. Up until now, I've had the privilege of not technically needing to take a stance. That's a privilege that men have. I had no idea who Sölvi Tryggva [the podcast host whose case started all this] was before this, I don't watch podcasts, and kind of had the benefit of none of it having to affect me. It wasn't until I started talking to female friends, and women around me, that I realized how much it provokes, and this thing of being triggered. I think guys maybe don't properly know what it means. It has a huge amount of impact on survivors to see that perpetrator codependency, and so much else these days.

GARÐAR GUNNLAUGSSON: If guys look inward a bit, they can see there are women in their lives, everywhere, who've been through something, and often something really awful.

ÁRNI MATTHÍASSON: As they say, it's not all men, but it's nearly all women.

GARÐAR: Yeah.

MATTHÍAS: Exactly.

The host plays a clip of a researcher studying intimate partner violence, talking about 'monsterization', how people imagine perpetrators are these scary inhuman monsters determined to do evil, and this makes it harder for perpetrators to face and own up to what they've done, which is exactly what survivors often most wish for - for the perpetrator to take responsibility for their actions. The host talks about how this also makes it harder for people to believe that their friends have done something unsavoury - you know your friend's not a monster so they can't have done this. Árni talks a bit about how most sexual violence is perpetrated by intimate partners, not some masked stranger.

MATTHÍAS: I remember when I first heard that. I don't think I properly understood it. If it's not some criminal in an alley, then who? I was probably just a teenager when I heard it, that no, it's usually someone close to you that rapes you. I couldn't quite even think that thought through.

GARÐAR: That it could be someone in your intimate circle.

MATTHÍAS: Yeah. Just, anyone you meet.

There's talk about the notion of ruining people's reputations.

MATTHÍAS: Yeah, that thing of valuing reputation so incredibly highly. We could value the experiences of survivors more highly, compared to that. I think it's a really good question - we're taking baby steps with this, but perhaps one thing that's easy to make judgements about is, say some acquaintance is accused of violence, and you don't have the context to judge it, but you still want to stand with survivors, but your friend's also not a monster - whether he's guilty or innocent, he can always show humility and willingness to listen and look inward. That's something I think both the monsters and the good kids should consider. I don't know, when you see someone accused of something and there's no humility towards the accusers' experiences, just defensiveness, or no looking inward to say, 'I think I'm innocent but what about my behaviour has made this person feel differently' - that's a reason to ask yourself big questions. Humility, listening, looking inward, for ourselves and our friends. I think that's one of the keys.

Garðar points out that if you just cut off a friend who's perpetrated violence, he's still there - the violence is still happening until it's actually addressed. You have to have the courage to intervene and try to get him to change, to show that you won't tolerate it, and Matthías agrees with that and says it's something he wishes he were better at, and that all men were.

The host muses on why sex in particular is such a quagmire for violation of boundaries. Árni emphasizes that rape and sexual assault are not sex but violence, and Matthías says "Yes, very good point." The host elaborates, talking about how a lot of the dating culture involves intoxication and so on, and sometimes people just don't get what their partner wants or doesn't want in that situation.

MATTHÍAS: Maybe guys are just very bad at putting themselves in women's shoes, or listening to them. I think if you thought of something that happened at the club yesterday and properly try to put yourself in the girl's shoes, it's simpler than you'd think to work out in your head whether she liked it, whether she thought it was funny or enjoyable when I said this or touched her there. At least part of the problem might be that guys just keep going, trusting that they'll be celebrated whatever they - it's just privilege. And the disconnect happens there. And it's just an exercise in, what I was saying earlier, humility and listening and looking inward.

ÁRNI: Like we're always Mr. Wonderful.

MATTHÍAS: Yeah. Like we're always Mr. Wonderful, and then when Mr. Wonderful hears somebody didn't enjoy what he was doing yesterday, or that he violated a boundary, or even committed violence, that really knocks down some of Mr. Wonderful's worldview. I don't know, that might be part of it. Maybe it's not that complicated, we're just bad at putting ourselves in others' shoes.

GARÐAR: Or we're just idiots.

MATTHÍAS: Yeah, maybe that's what it is. Well, I mean, often when you hear stuff like 'Oh, nothing's allowed anymore', that classic sentence, it's this sort of cognitive distortion from a guy who thinks he's wonderful and everything he says is smart or funny. And if that guy really tries to think, 'Hmm, does this girl think what I'm saying is cool or fun? Is this fun flirting or is this girl just waiting for the conversation to be over so she can leave, because she feels uncomfortable?' I don't think it's that hard, if you sincerely try to understand how the other person feels. Then, of course, there are probably other variables to it.

[monkberries]

So here goes: Personally I find Paul to be hot with a beard. But it annoys me because there’s always some Paul stan who’s like “he was super depressed during that time you know” anytime someone says how hot he looks with a beard. Like first of all, I don’t think we should go around diagnosing people and assuming how he felt 24/7 just based on a couple of quotes when we don’t know him, and second of all I was just saying he looks good. Also idk why Paul stans want to pretend like Paul is STILL a victim when he’s definitely not. He’s a super successful billionaire musician. He’s fine.

I'm going to assume all four of these were from the same anon; I received another along these same lines that seems to be from someone else:

OKAY. There's a lot here.

As I've said before, I think the concept you are both talking about - that Paul is the favourite, that people will attack you if you criticize him, that people are vilifying John more now - is true, but is also a matter of perspective. I think sometimes we perceive the whole fandom as just the people we're surrounded by; that can be true in smaller fandoms, like for obscure shows or whatever, but for the Beatles, the fandom is so much bigger and more spread out across generations, social media platforms, and works of literature than almost any other fandom. There are literally thousands upon thousands of books either about or tangentially about the Beatles; there are pockets on every platform from tumblr to twitter to podcasts to instagram to facebook etc., and it branches off even more niche within those to like, facebook groups specifically for podcasts about the Beatles, or discord servers, or livejournal threads, or music forums, or fics on ao3. There are fansites with thoughtful speculative articles like heydullblog and blogs specifically reviewing Beatle books like beatlebioreview and sites cataloging every bit of minutiae like the Beatles Bible, all with their own flavor of comment sections. And not only that, the Beatles fandom spans generations and cultures in a way that almost nothing else ever has or ever will.

And this is not even going into the shifting narratives that have been in play over the years surrounding Paul specifically, and the huge, huge difference between the perceptions of him by the authors and the Counterculture People, the perceptions of him by regular ass Wings fans who have only idly flipped through Rolling Stone while waiting in line at the local bodega, and the perceptions of him by everyone in between, who may or may not have been unconsciously influenced by the wider narratives about him.

All that is to make the case that the fandom that you are experiencing on tumblr/twitter is an extremely small fraction of The Fandom at large. For every Paul stan on twitter that yells at people for not believing that Paul literally invented music, there is a John stan in a facebook group going on about John's supposedly tireless peace efforts. For every nuanced, well sourced post on amoralto's blog, there is someone in the Beatles Bible comment section saying that John and Paul hated each other. For every fan who's read the major Beatles bios with a critical eye towards bias, there are plenty more fans who just absorbed them as straight fact. This is not to say that your experiences are not real or valid! They absolutely are! What I am saying is that there are infinite permutations of infinite Beatles fandoms out there, and the people you see who insist that Paul is still treated worse than John, I would imagine, are occupying various permutations of the fandom where that is more true, alongside the one they share with you. It's not for me to say whether the Paul or John people have the upper hand on the whole - truly, I don't think anyone has enough perspective on the whole fandom to make any judgment on that, no matter what general Grand Pronouncements anyone may make about The Fandom.

As I've said before, any overly defensive "stan" behavior, whether it's for John or Paul or George or anyone, is exhausting to me, so I definitely understand where you're coming from re: him being supposedly underrated. He is literally one of the most successful musicians of all time; as of the beginning of this year, he is worth 1.2 billion dollars; and, thanks to his own efforts and the efforts of quite a few fans and writers out there over the decades, he now enjoys an incredibly positive "granddude" reputation. There are ways in which it can be exasperating to read yet another indignant refutation of music reviews for RAM that came out fifty years ago, when his last three albums have hit the top 3 in the charts in both the US and the UK and have gotten great reviews. I have seen people wonder, honestly wonder, how much more money Paul could have made, how much more respected he could have been, if the rock press had been inclined to give RAM good reviews. When I see that, it does start to feel like fans of Paul, at least the defensive ones in the fandom permutations I occupy, are arguing with the author photo of Philip Norman in the book jacket for Shout!. It's not that I think those arguments and discussions are not worth having; I do think they're worth having because I believe that the only way we can continue to grow is if we grapple with the mistakes made in the past. But there is a strange kind of disconnect that happens when you read about someone indignantly defending Wild Life as though the members of Wings are currently, actively having eggs and rotten fruit thrown at them, and then you remember that Paul is currently, and has been for many years now, one of the richest men in the entire world.

As for the misogyny thing, I'll copy and paste a quote from Erin Weber which may explain a little better than I can:

"Where it starts entering into serious discussion for me is when you have professional grown men (Schaffner would be the most glaring example of this, but not the only one) repeatedly using the term “pretty” or “pretty-faced” to refer to another grown man. (Norman does the same). Schaffner doesn’t only do that once or twice, he uses one of those exact words at least fifteen times in his references to McCartney. “Pretty-boy” is also a term that at least one journalist has used to describe Paul, and that’s not a stealth insult: that’s an overt one. (My husband, who hates the Yankees, routinely used the term “pretty-boy” to insult Alex Rodriguez. And it wasn’t meant as a compliment).

My reaction to this is based both on studies that I’m aware of (I’d have to hunt them up, but I’ve seen them referenced before) which argue that the use of feminized language can be a method of stealth insult/diminishment when used by men to describe other men, and my own personal experience. It is difficult to see a situation where a grown man using the term “pretty” or any variation of the word “pretty” to describe another grown man means it as a compliment. Even if its purely meant as a descriptive term, it is a descriptive term that is weighted with significant meaning and is feminizing. And given the rock press’s obsession with masculinity and its insistence, as noted in other studies, of using masculine terms to portray a song as good and feminizing terms to describe them as weak or inferior, I don’t think its a coincidence that a rock press that knew well the power of masculine and feminine language commonly used feminized language, particularly in the 1970s and 80s, to describe McCartney."

I personally see this more as pseudo-homophobic than pseudo-misogynistic (like, when I see a man called "pretty" by another man in an insulting way, I immediately think "oh, that author wanted to say a gay slur but he's too Professional"), but the two things can get muddled together, I suppose.

Anyway, actionable items:

Diversify Your Fan Experience. More perspectives can really help gain a fuller understanding of not just the fandom but the Beatles themselves. Don't be afraid to be wrong, and don't be afraid to be right; always be open to learning new things and hearing new insights.

If All Else Fails, Block 'Em.

[blorbosexterminator]

Thanks @spiny-norman for tagging me! I definitely think it's time for me to try and put an overview of my thoughts coherently in one place, instead of the cluster I've left my blog in lmfao.

For lack of better words, here's a review of s5

I'll start with the positives too! The things I truly enjoyed:

The action was really thrilling and well-done.

It was funny. That is a very important aspect to me lmfao. I was truly worried the season was going to be too edgy for its own good and sacrifice its trademark humor. Tamayo was easily a highlight of this season. I loved that man from the moment he showed up in season 3, and he only got better this season. Alicia was also one of my favorite things. She's just so hilarious, I'm rooting for her to betray everyone and fuck them up.

In la banda itself, Tokyo and Denver completely stole the show, with magnificent acting from both Jaime and Ursula and genuinely good writing for them this season (something I can't say for the other characters), and the way they stayed true to themselves and yet evolved in such an organic way will always stay with me.

Tokyo deserves a whole point on her own even though I haven't shut up about her for nearly a week now lmfao. I'm still amazed at the perfect way her arc was handled, I could have never imagined or wanted anything different for her. It was a hugely bold move to place this in the finale of the first volume because I have no idea how they'll top it with anything now. Ursula obviously stole the scene, but everyone's acting in that scene punched me in the gut repeatedly. Very few characters' deaths in all media really affected me generally speaking, but I just know Tokyo's is here to stay with me.

Now, for everything else. This is already long but it's about to get longer lmfao.

First, I genuinely disliked how the show handled its political aspect this season. It was never perfect at it tbh, with a lot of misplaced allegories, but it was fine. The reason it was fine is because, other than a few weird moments, the show stayed realistic. It was was character-driven, and most of the time, the characters didn't mold themselves to be activists. This seasons' progressive tone was very out of place. I know a lot of people took pleasure in Bogota's speech while he beat Gandia, but it took me out of the mood. It was out of character and very ill-fitting to Gandia. I disliked Martin's speech nearly as much. Again, it was very out of character and ill-fitting. The really fun and realistic thing about the previous seasons was that just because a character was a minority or in some unfortunate group for one reason or the other, it didn't change anything. It didn't make them better people. Martin was still an egotistical, narcissistic, power-hungry, misogynistic, macho piece of shit. The fact that he was gay changed nothing, it didn't make him kinder to fellow oppressed people, not once did he act or gave any indication that he thought of himself as a victim in that sense. They were very unnecessary scenes.

Speaking of the characters, outside of Tokyo and Denver, I didn't feel 'anyone'. All actors did more than an amazing job, Rodrigo and Alvaro were top notches. But it just, the story had suddenly changed from a character-driven story to a plot-driven one and the show didn't handle that change well. Raquel, Martin, Andres, and Sergio were just there. I'll come back to Andres later because he's a special case lmfao. But those three, with how huge their roles are supposedly now, literally were just there. Raquel was just going around shooting things and sometimes giving some order or the other. Martin is pretty much the same. And the only useful thing Sergio did was pull the kid out of Alicia.

Now, I get that Alex Pina said this volume will all be boom boom, and in the next volume we'll get more of the character-focused scenes, but I'm not disappointed because the scenes were few. No, I'm disappointed because they were out of character. Martin was very, very not Martin. He was just some guy lmfao. It's not that I just wanted him to be more of an asshole, which I did because he is an asshole (bless the Monica and Arturo scene tho) but also he was just very soulless. Very unrecognizable. The moment he showed up, took Raquel's order to stop the melting without even one objection or even asking her to explain lmfao, (even fucking Tokyo was like ????? and not Martin!!!), I knew that he's not himself this season. And I was right, this Martin didn't give a single shit about the gold, had no passion, no fire, no soul. It's not like he doesn't resemble 'Palermo' (whatever the fuck that means), he doesn't even resemble himself in the s3 and 4 flashbacks. This isn't healing or redemption. This is a complete personality change overnight. And it just made him a boring character ngl, he's just not entertaining or complex or intriguing anymore. He's literally just some guy with some cringy out-of-character moments that made me go ???? Not even asking about plan Roma and having no problem with not melting the gold, telling Bogota 'revenge is egotistical and bad uwu', his whole speech of being the shit of society or whatever were all highlights of how the show just threw his previous characterizations in the trash lmfo. I genuinely hope it was just because this volume needed to move without any obstacles from the characters and he'll go back more to who he is in volume 2, but I doubt it tbh.

The flashbacks. First, they were funny, and that is their only saving grace. Andres going 'LOBSTERS' in the middle of telling his kid that he ruined his life was top-notch. Other than that, they were terrible, terrible shitty writing. The show didn't connect them in any way to Andres' flashbacks in s3 and 4 and at the same time didn't connect them to bank heist (outside of the parallels of the water, diving, and gold in both heists). They were very disconnected from everything else, and even though I'm certain they'll have more meaning next volume, it doesn't erase the fact that they had none this volume and didn't establish any stones for connections. @spiny-norman Tatana isn't even my type lmfao so I got nothing from this.

Lastly, the relationship dynamics were so.....not there. We got about nothing other than the Tokyo stuff. No hermanos, no Martin and Sergio, no Sergio and Raquel, no flashbacks from the panning in the monastery, no Tokyo and Martin being a pain in each other's asses, no Martin/Andres and the plan, no Martin and Raquel beyond co-leading. If we had time for that stupid, stupid love triangle, then we could have had some meaningful interactions between the actual important relationships in the show. Monver defending each other and their relationship to other people was very <3 though.

The plan has no meaning. Sure, I enjoyed the action. But this bank plan itself was devoid of the soul it had since it first appeared. The bank plan was something like an individual character in previous seasons lmfao. It was the one true love story of Andres and Martin. I think the show could have balanced some of that with the action and thrill.

Again, I know it's all about the action. But the show had a true shining chance to have some iconic scenes between Raquel and the police now that Sergio was unable to participate, and we had absolutely nothing. No negotiation, no clever back and forth between her and the people she worked with for decades, just nothing. I loved seeing her in action, but the boom boom omg badass queen woman warrior with a gun thing gets boring. This fits Tokyo. Raquel's truest moments of really being a boss were supposed to be between her and the police. Just again, all characters were just doing the same thing. They were no longer brilliant, varied individuals each shinning through their own strengths that were already established. I only hope we'll get more of that in volume two.

I think this captures most of my thoughts about the volume. Sorry for long it is lmfao.