#me: ‘I hate how exclusionary bonding is!’

[beta-adjacent]

Hot take: bond marks (as commonly seen in the literature) are a little bogus. What do you mean bonding should be exclusively for mates? Why can’t I bond with my best friends instead? Does it really need to be romantic? What do you mean it’s a permanent scar??

Granted, I do love all those tropes a lot; they hit a really deep soft spot for me. And lots of new work nowadays are redefining how bonding works! I guess I just wanna keep that conversation open

[oarfishing]

this?

this is terf shit.

idc if you're technically "including" trans people in your man-hating.

this is terf shit.

"men are completely evil due to their gender"? terf shit. "marginalized men telling me to step away from bioessentialism are evil?" terf shit. "women are the top most oppressed class?" terf shit. "transmascs act like victims?" terf shit. all that "sisterhood" "i hate men" "i love other women who hate men let's bond over how much we hate men"? that's terf shit. sure, it's not technically "trans exclusionary" since look, see, they love trans women! but if you examine what terfs and radfems like them actually believe - that is, the root behind all of their ideology - this sort of gender essentialism is exactly their platform.

a PSA to all the lovely people out there, especially trans people: if you see somebody like this, somebody talking like this, they are not your friend. prioritizing hate over love is not the trans ally take they think it is.

and if you are a woman and you think you get to speak over any and all sorts of marginalized men who go through so much shit not just in spite of but because of their gender, you are not an "intersectional feminist." you are not a trans ally. if you think trans people who fight for trans rights - which includes trans men, if you can believe it - are just "MRA"s, you are not! a! safe! person!

stay safe out there 💓 trans love forever

[cazort]

My wife has noticed this increasing trend of getting recommended Instagrams that purport to be about "women empowering women" and "promoting healthy relationships" and "improving mental health" and "feminism" and things like that, and then when you watch their videos, 100% of the videos are some woman filming her husband and then the woman who runs the channel is analyzing and blaming and shaming the man's behavior.

The first thing that jumps out at me is that these channels are based on filming your spouse and then publicly shaming them, as if that behavior right there weren't toxic in and of itself. There is always an assumption of bad faith in the analysis of the husband's words and actions, and a black-and-white analysis in which the woman is right and the man is wrong.

And they always make it about gender. They're like "this is a thing men do to women". And the frustrating thing is, a lot of the things being highlighted aren't even about gender.

Like last night I watched this one and the guy was being super passive-aggressive. It was very disrespectful, I and my wife agreed. But I've seen just as many women do the exact same thing; I've had it done to me even, and I've seen some of my friends' moms do it to their dads. In that video, it was a behavior that had nothing to do with gender socialization, but they were analyzing it as if it did. As someone who actually has delved deep into feminist theory and sociology, this stuff drives me batty. It gives feminism a bad name!

In some cases, the man is bringing up valid concerns and the video spins it around as a negative thing. For example this one guy was complaining about the wife signing up for an expensive activity, when the husband suggested he could create a similar experience for their kid for much cheaper. The woman running the channel then lambasted him for "spreading negativity". There was no dialogue, no attempt to listen to the husband or understand his perspective, compromise, or even acknowledge that he could perhaps have a valid concern. The whole video was made with the assumption that the husband was bad and wrong for merely voicing a concern. And from my perspective, it seemed that the husband was trying to encourage healthy financial management, whereas the wife was spending wastefully in ways that could create financial strain for the family.

Sometimes these videos combine valid concerns with invalid ones. For example, a man might communicate something in a less-than-fully-respectful way, but still raise valid concerns. In relationship conflict, most tense situations are like this. There are valid concerns, but strong emotions lead people to say or do some disrespectful things. But the woman running the channel fixates only on the negative or disrespect aspects of the man's behavior, and ignores the possibility that he might actually have valid concerns. This is such a harmful and dangerous example to set, because it tends to lead to conflict that escalates and issues that never get resolved. It often leads to emotional abuse, and often ends in divorce, sometimes after costly court battles and extensive trauma to children through the process. Everyone comes out traumatized.

These channels are very obviously anti-men. They masquerade as "feminist" or "women supporting women" but the women aren't supporting the women, they're just demonizing and attacking the men. They give women a superficial sense of solidarity but it's shallow because it is not based on actually lifting each other up, only around beating others (men) down. It honestly reminds me of the same way the Trump movement bonds around hating immigrants and how extremist movements in general bond around a shared "enemy" that gets demonized.

Some of these channels are a pipeline to other hate ideologies, which is unsurprising. They feed right into TERF (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminism) but they can also feed into other far-right ideologies as they tend to embrace a lot of negative social beliefs, like sex negativity (male desire is inherently bad and predatory), and right-wing social beliefs (men need to be the "provider" and their main value is an income earners, and are inherently bad at childcare) and hyper-consumerism (it's bad and wrong to express concern about how much something costs, just shut up and earn the money.) So although they masquerade as "progressive" they have a strong regressive effect.

The most frustrating and sad thing about these channels is that a lot of them have so many subscribers and so much attention and engagement on their videos. There is no debate. The only comments posted on the videos are fully in agreement, and there are tons and tons of them. I strongly suspect the channel creators censor the comments and block users who question the narrative.

I don't know what can be done about these channels other than to talk about them. It's creepy to me that, although my wife doesn't subscribe to any of them, she keeps getting recommendations for them. I sometimes would too. It is one of many factors that drove me off Instagram.

I want us to talk about these things though. If you have friends who subscribe to these channels or watch their videos, talk about it with them. Tell them some of the things I've told you. Share with them healthier ways of conflict resolution. Point out ways you disagree. Point out how it's incredibly suspicious that these channels don't have any disagreeing comments, that they must obviously be censored.

I refuse to let these ideas take hold in the people around me.

[edge-oftheworld]

hiii my friend just told me that if I sent you the 5sos member i think I'm most like, and permission to look at my blog you would psychoanalyze me? i thought that might be fun.

I'm not a huge 5sos fan, but I think I'm most like Calum. I think Michael is my favorite.

omg! i saw your dilithium post too and I hope that's going well, senior (?) chemistry can be brutal. and yeah absolutely!

you're naturally curious and easygoing, and you love novelty and diversity and learning about different ways to do things, different ways to exist, until you find something that comfortably fits you and then the peace you feel about that is so much better than trying to conform with what people say you should be. you get bored and start to feel uncomfortable when things are all the same all the time or when the same handful of people are telling everyone else what to do. part of that comes from being in a minority group, but part of it is just who you naturally are and even if you were white, cis and straight you think you'd still be drawn to people who break the mold.

you're drawn to anyone who's unashamedly themselves, and that's not because you're not yourself but sometimes you're quiet and people overlook you, or you're overlooked because you're well behaved according to their standards, but their standards are made up anyway, so who gave them the authority to judge you using things that don't even exist? it's a common aspec experience--people find reasons to judge who people are with, but when you're not with anyone they scramble for reasons to accuse you of wrongdoing, only to find none and infantilise you instead, focusing instead on the things you're good at, calling you 'career oriented' for not having a partner, not realising that binary is just as false as everything else.

there are things you're good at that you don't really care for, and things you love that you could be good at, and probably will be because you love them, so you're automatically going to spend more time on them. it's common sense, you don't understand why people don't get it.

you're observant and you notice a lot of trends as well as the ways that the world COULD be if people didn't just go through the same motions that this colonial society recommends. you're a dreamer and an idealist. you love philosophy, but only to a point, when it stops having practical applications it starts to go over your head sometimes because when it does that, it stops opening the doors to building community and family and instead starts to feel exclusionary, like that age-old trolley argument that totally disregards ANY sort of creativity and creates a false binary, something you hate.

your curiosity and love for complexity is one reason you're studying chemistry, and you're in so many fandoms! don't let people take that away from you: these things can be wonderous and joyful and you can look at ionic and covalent bonds and think to yourself: I'm most drawn to people who some say are opposite to me (loud, sometimes 'rude' but who makes these social rules anyway) but in other ways are exactly the same. lithium and oxygen are opposites, or are they? how about sodium and chlorine? aren't they more alike than you think? you don't appear like an outcast on the surface but you're committed to authenticity and you're going to go wherever that is, and it sure isn't with the mainstream people trying to hide their whole selves to be cool. they'll learn eventually. you already have.

[hislittleraincloud]

I just wanted to contribute to your recent ask, if that's okay and I will be hiding behind an anonymous face, so apologies in advance but I'm anxious about backlash from others since I'm active in the fandom and I may piss some people off.

I agree with your statements about the incorrect use of nicknames toward whichever partner Wednesday is paired up with, it makes me cringe so much, especially with the 'Cara Mia' because like you, I cannot see Ortega's Wednesday using the same pet names that her parents use. Some people go ridiculously overboard with it, and I really enjoyed your breakdown over the incorrect use of the French pet names. Wednesday despises the sappy love between her parents, I highly doubt she would mimic that.

I've seen your posts pop up occasionally, I like some of the art you share, and I did try reading your story out of curiosity. But it did make me uncomfortable with the underage stuff due to past experiences, and that is okay for me to admit and doesn't mean you're a bad person for writing it. It's a fanfiction ffs, the same people upset about your pairing are probably having wet dreams over Wednesday murdering people or some other illegal shit 🤷‍♀️

I have respect for you as a person and writer, and how you've brought awareness to the transphobic nature of some fics, we don't need that in this fandom.

Nothing better to offset anon hate than anon respect. 💖✨

It's always okay to drop anything in my inbox if you're afraid of backlash due to popular shipping, but "YOU PERVERT, IT'S R#PE!!!" judgement should not be faceless. 🥹

It's also always okay to give reason to why any fic or pairing is something you avoid due to trauma, and you shouldn't have to say that aloud. At least, you don't to me. I sincerely hope that my post didn't come across as "U MUST READ MY SHIT NO MATTER WHAT BEFORE YOU JUDGE IT" to those (like you) who have terrible trauma surrounding the subject/content. If you have such trauma, then my tags should've been a warning, and I completely understand why you would not want to read it.

Hm, I'm also agreeing w the whole subject matter in general thing. I've seen a few fics where Wednesday is r#ped and/or tortured (usually by Tyler or Gatesmonster), but apparently others do, so whatever. 🤷🏽‍♂️ I can't impose on others my severe judgement on what gets others off (in terms of fiction and fictional characters), I can only say that Wednesday suffers enough mentally on a daily basis that I hate adding to that, or seeing it. N/C Wednesday is still precious to me, no matter how tempting it can be to smack her around a bit/knock her off her high horse (I was pleased though, when in canon she got her brow nicked...she hadn't had any reason to attack Bianca before then, aside from her calling her a psychopath (as if not everyone in the school already thought she was)...she was being a narc little asshole during the fencing scene).

As for the rest of it, I really didn't say anywhere that Wednesday shouldn't come up with any cute pet names for Enid, even suggesting that she could be creative enough to make her own compound words like "my little lupinette" (to me, something like that would make her bond with Enid much more tailored to whatever Enid brought out within her while distancing herself from becoming Mommie Dearest enough). Borrowing directly from them just... 💀 AB Wednesday is currently even more formal and uptight than any Wenclair Wends but is slowly learning, and in one upcoming scene she calls Donovan "Jim". My readers will see why (🤣🤣🤣).

Aside from crafting this Satisfying Universe, I had to sit and watch malignant psychopaths destroy the hopes and dreams of my fellow 🏳️‍⚧️ people in Tennessee, Florida, Texas, Missouri, etc. this spring and throughout the summer, so I'm especially peeved when I see anything that could be construed as trans exclusionary in here. I lost the Potter fandom to it in 2020 when JKR came out full TERF, even though we all kind of suspected it before. We never, ever had "Draco Malfoy x AFAB reader" or "Hermione Granger x AMAB reader" labeled fics. We didn't care what you were born with, genital-wise. Fiction is and will forever be an escape, so let's try to keep it that way. 🫠✨

Anyway, thanks for the message. I'm only sad that you feel like you need to hide, or that anyone feels like they need to hide. I understand it though.

[bubblegumbeech]

On the Topic of AroAce Elsa

There’s a lot of people complaining about this headcanon, and most of it is very exclusionary and just awful, but a recurring argument I’ve noticed, is why her and not say, Moana. And why AroAce over Lesbian?

(Don’t get me wrong, if you headcanon her as lesbian because that’s how you connect with her, I am not trying to step on any toes this is just an explanation as best I can as to why certain people are choosing one headcanon as opposed to the other. I am not saying one is wrong)

It’s just, There’s more than just her not having a love interest. There’s plenty of princesses nowadays like that, as previously mentioned, but Elsa is coded in a way they aren’t.

Things like being uncomfortable around other people’s romance, the whole “frozen heart” thing which ties into a lot of the hate for aros because we “can’t love” the fact that she yearns, not for something specific like Moana’s yearning for the ocean, but to be free, and more specifically alone. The fact that her sister matters more than anyone else, because platonic and familial bonds are the kind of bonds that matter the most to us. Hell, even the color palette!!! Not to mention the end of her two movie arc is that she’s allowed to be happy alone??!! Do you know how long it took me to realize I was allowed to be happy alone??!!! As an Aroace myself???!!!

There’s a Lot of coding that goes into Elsa that paints a neon AroAce sign above her head, but it’s only the kind of things that people who are aspec, or understand the community are going to pick up on.

Moana, for example, is coded more wlw, at least from how I watched the movie. She wants to be the perfect leader just like Elsa, and feels bad for being different, but there’s something she’s actively yearning for, and she knows what it is she wants even though she’s not supposed to have it. (There’s also the whole water/ocean thing and how that ties into modern depictions of wlw but that’s a whole other post)And while she goes on an adventure, and it’s awesome and about acceptance and easily one of the best movies I have ever seen, the answer in the end isn’t “there’s other ways to love/ other kinds of love” which is a HUGE aro and aspec thing in general.

At the end of Moana she’s healing another woman. She’s realizing that she can love what she wants to love without abondoning her people or her family because they were the ones who needed to accept her, and their fear was because they wanted her to be safe and happy!!! That’s 100% a wlw experience!!!

And yes, none of this is explicit, but I’m talking more about coding and metaphor and I understand entirely that we need Disney to stop being a coward and actually make an LGBTQA+ character in their mainstream movies. And yes, a lesbian princess is definitely one of the places they should start. But Aroace characters flat out don’t exist, so can we get some of those too?

Just, thought I’d throw in my personal two cents.

(Ps, those asking why not Merida? We actually already claimed her into the community while you weren’t looking. Aroace Arrow Ace)

[kyloren]

Why Reylos Are A Bright Spot In The STAR WARS Fandom

It’s impossible to parse all of this out or to really say who’s “right” or “wrong” or what “right” and “wrong” even mean in fandom spaces. From my vantage point, the Reylo community is one of the more forgiving and accepting out there. It’s comprised of not only women, but plenty of men and non-binary Star Wars fans, from different races and orientations and experiences. And that’s true of any shipping community. In a fandom as large as Star Wars, there should be room for all of us to express joy or grief or surprise or disinterest in our cultivated spaces. It’s how we all choose to cross-pollinate that could use some work.

But Reylos aren’t deserving of the intense condemnation that comes from larger voices in the fandom. The ridicule feels specific and exclusionary, and rooted in gatekeeping sexism. Comparing them to the Fandom Menace is ridiculous. That group created blogs dedicated to roasting journalists, creators, and fans. Meanwhile, the Reylo community (along with Ben Solo fans) poured much of their frustration and sadness over The Rise of Skywalker into an act of good, by raising money for Adam Driver’s charity, Arts in the Armed Forces. How much money? As of this writing, over $76,000, more than double the charity’s fundraising goal for an entire fiscal year.

full article below the cut:

Why is romantic love such a controversial thing in fandom? It’s something I ask myself a lot, as a person who writes about shipping and who desires the kind of love that stories tell me might exist. I’ve spent most of my life in fandom spaces—participating in conversations or observing and examining them—and have witnessed firsthand how objectionable fictional romance can be, especially in fandoms that appeal to and target men. Why is this the case, and why is romance a thing we use to punish women looking for escapism in genre stories?

It’s hard to say, but it remains an endemic and undeniable strain. Shipping, which is fandom code for wanting two characters to be together, is often snickered at or seen as some frivolous element of appreciation. It can lead to shaming that feels personal and accusatory, as if your interest in a fictional relationship is a roadmap to your own intentions and experience. This attitude towards shippers is especially present in the Star Wars fandom, where the relationship between Rey and Kylo Ren is steeped in a seemingly never-ending controversy. There are fervent supporters of the romance between these characters, a plentiful contingent of opposers, and those who don’t really care one way or another but still seem fit to criticize.

Why has the “Reylo” ship created such a stir? Let’s dig into this subset of the Star Wars fandom: where it started, why it’s accumulated so much negativity, and why the Reylos don’t deserve the bad reputation they’ve acquired, especially in the wake of The Rise of Skywalker.

THE ORIGINS OF REYLO

The release of The Last Jedi was a rough time for a lot Star Wars fans. The film—the eighth in the Skywalker saga and the second in the Disney-era sequel trilogy—made a lot of bold storytelling choices, which divided the fandom into camps. Those who loved the meditations on the Force, Luke Skywalker’s troubled hero’s journey, the complicated characterization of Poe Dameron, Finn and Rose’s failed mission, and the strange developing bond between Rey and Kylo felt at odds with anyone who saw otherwise. Many disliked Luke’s arc, or the apparent sidelining of Poe and Finn, or the democratization of the Force. The disagreements spiraled into something bordering collective mania. It’s a debate that still rages today, and that seeped into the conversations we’re currently having about The Rise of Skywalker.

I loved the movie, but found the discourse numbing. Positive Twitter conversations were instantly marred by detractors, and every passionate argument was upended by accusatory nitpicks. I felt discouraged from participating in any of it, and I felt bitter towards the Star Wars community in general. Until I found the Reylos.

After stumbling on podcasts like What The Force?, Skytalkers, and Scavenger’s Hoard—all female-hosted programs—I realized there were plenty of encouraging conversations about The Last Jedi happening in fandom. I also realized most of them were Reylo-oriented. Suddenly, I was exposed to the exact conversations I always wanted to have about Star Wars: deep dives into mythology, redemption arcs, symbolism and dualism, religion, poetry. And all of that was encompassed in Reylo. All of these larger stories, focused through these characters joined by fate and purpose, who represented opposing ideologies of the Force.

There was so much to dig into. Rey and Kylo have a classic enemies-to-lovers storyline, a romantic trope seen in fairytales like Beauty and the Beast, classic literature like Pride and Prejudice, mythological stories like that of Hades and Persephone, even modern genre television like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’s typically used in women-oriented storytelling, as it affords duality and compassion to both parties; a distribution of power that makes the women as complicated, compromised, and interesting as their male counterparts. Rey’s interest in Kylo adds a layered intrigue to a character otherwise patently “good” and “pure,” words commonly associated with women, forcing them into palatable, antiquated gender roles.

Their relationship feeds a part of the fanbase who craves that kind of female protagonist. One who represents their own burgeoning lust, complicated compassion for the men they chose to care about, and temptation towards things we’re told to fear. Through the Reylo relationship, Rey took on another angle, one that finally made Star Wars feel like a story for me.

THE BACKLASH

I also learned right away what it meant to be a Reylo in the Star Wars fandom. The relationship between the light-sided Rey and dark-sided Kylo was riddled in turmoil. In The Force Awakens, a scene where he straps her down and interrogates her is considered by many to be abusive. The language Kylo uses to seduce Rey to his side in The Last Jedi is also seen as manipulative and problematic. He tells her that no one knows her like he does. In their opinion, he’s attempting to groom her to his standards, to turn her into what he wants against her own will. Those against the relationship will tell you that it’s a dangerous and negative message to send to young girls.

And here’s where I’ll say something potentially controversial amongst my fellow Reylos: I don’t think these people are “wrong.” Because everyone’s experience and perspective is their own thing to interrogate, and it’s not up to me to tell people how to feel about something–even if I disagree entirely. What I do take issue with, however, is the need to interrogate someone else’s preferences or fantasies. There is an infantilizing element to the backlash, as if those opposed think that Reylos haven’t reconciled with the themes presented to them, and are merely choosing to ignore them because they think Adam Driver is hot.

The way I see it, relationships like Reylo—power fantasies oriented on the feminine psyche, with an antagonistic male—fulfill two things I love in storytelling. They are pure escapism; the happy ending those of us drawn to the incurable are never afforded. And they are instructive, as they exemplify the patriarchal schism between men and women: that we are not equal, but that women love men anyway because of the compassion that comes naturally to balance that division. It shows how we can mend those gaps through patience and understanding. It’s archetypical and fantastical, sure, but that’s what Star Wars is: a fairy tale that wrestles with society and humanity in broad strokes.

That said, there are other reasons for dissent. Some fans ship Rey and Finn, and see their romance as a better avenue for a healthy relationship. Some have experienced personal trauma and can’t abide a romance that mimics and negates their pain. Others just don’t see the Reylo thing at all. Absolutely all of that is valid. Shipping should never be a competition or an authoritative moral stance on any side. Rey/Finn shippers are just as valid as Reylos because it speaks to what someone personally craves and desires. The shaming shouldn’t exist on any side—but because it does, the passionate defense comes in.

REYLOS DON’T DESERVE THE HATE

That knee-jerk self defense has drawn a lot of ire to the Reylo community in the aftermath of The Rise of Skywalker, the final film in the Star Wars sequel trilogy. On paper, the Reylos were given a lot of what they desire: Kylo Ren is redeemed and turns back into Ben Solo. Rey and Ben fight side by side and even share a kiss. But then Ben dies and Rey ends the movie alone, something that irked the shippers. They saw the ending as a grim conclusion for Ben and a way of punishing Rey for expressing her desires. To many, the ending feels hopeless and feeds into this stereotypical notion that for a woman to be strong, she must be single — as if romantic love weakens us.

There are other ways to read the ending, and many fans found power in it. That’s the beauty of film: that it’s entirely subjective. But in their profession of disappointment, the Reylos once again became a punching bag for the fandom at large. A recent BuzzFeed article compared the way Reylos reacted to The Rise of Skywalker to the way the Fandom Menace—a trolling, abusive, anti-Disney hate group—reacted to The Last Jedi. (Never mind that their “source” for this reaction was a tweet from a prominent member of the Fandom Menace, and that many of the complaints in question were either fabricated or from non-Reylo accounts.)

It’s impossible to parse all of this out or to really say who’s “right” or “wrong” or what “right” and “wrong” even mean in fandom spaces. From my vantage point, the Reylo community is one of the more forgiving and accepting out there. It’s comprised of not only women, but plenty of men and non-binary Star Wars fans, from different races and orientations and experiences. And that’s true of any shipping community. In a fandom as large as Star Wars, there should be room for all of us to express joy or grief or surprise or disinterest in our cultivated spaces. It’s how we all choose to cross-pollinate that could use some work.

But Reylos aren’t deserving of the intense condemnation that comes from larger voices in the fandom. The ridicule feels specific and exclusionary, and rooted in gatekeeping sexism. Comparing them to the Fandom Menace is ridiculous. That group created blogs dedicated to roasting journalists, creators, and fans. Meanwhile, the Reylo community (along with Ben Solo fans) poured much of their frustration and sadness over The Rise of Skywalker into an act of good, by raising money for Adam Driver’s charity, Arts in the Armed Forces. How much money? As of this writing, over $76,000, more than double the charity’s fundraising goal for an entire fiscal year.

I also know that the Reylos helped me find my way back to loving Star Wars, gave me endless professional and creative inspiration for the last two years, and deepened my interest and love of storytelling and mythology. I know I’m not alone, and I know that the Reylo shipping community has made Star Wars finally feel like a fandom they were allowed to love. That’s something I hope fans with different access points to the world of Star Wars might think about before they wag a finger or call Reylos fake fans or mock their interests and experience. Star Wars can and should be for everyone, and how we find our way into the galaxy far, far away is a unique, personal, and beautiful thing. Love is what it’s all about at the end of the day. Even romantic love.

by Lindsey Romain for Nerdist [find article HERE]

[raptured-night]

As I can read in your bio, you are demisexual (I'm put myself in this spectrum too) I want to ask what do you think about that Snape is ace-/demisexsual? Personally, I think he's demi.

Hi there!

I do believe that –setting aside what we might argue was Rowling’s intentions à la Death of the Author– there is plenty of room in her canon to interpret Snape as being somewhere along the asexual spectrum. Importantly, the only canonical statement of Snape’s relationship to Lily is that of friendship. Whether we might choose to interpret that friendship as one similar to Harry and Hermione’s (i.e. strictly platonic but no less filled with love) or one closer to Hermione and Ron’s (i.e. a childhood friendship that develops into romantic feelings as Hermione and Ron mature) is entirely up to how we interpret the subtext of Rowling’s canon. Ultimately, Snape’s feelings for Lily and Lily’s feelings for Snape are never explicitly stated in the text beyond their platonic expressions of friendship and this vagueness leaves us with room for multiple interpretations of Snape and Lily, all of which can be supported by the text.

(It is at this point where someone who doesn’t care for Death of the Author might chime in to argue, “What about the interviews Rowling gave after the books that more clearly point to the fact she wanted Snape and Lily to have had some kind of romantic tension/interest?” to which I would respond by pointing to the inconsistency of Rowling’s answers about her characters in certain interviews over the years, her own recent issue with ret-conning some of her previous canon for her Fantastic Beasts franchise, and one very particular interview she gave where one could just easy easily conclude Snape “wanted Mulciber and Lily” to make the case for why Death of the Author exists and why interviews may serve as good supplementary or secondary supporting evidence but not as a firm or absolute validation of any single interpretation of canon). 

However, even an interpretation of Snape’s relationship with Lily that allows for the possibility of him maturing into romantic feelings for Lily does not discount any interpretations of Snape as asexual, as I have argued before. Particularly, as you say you headcanon Snape, as someone who is grey-ace/demisexual. It is not at all difficult to argue that, as an alternative to interpretations of Snape’s feelings for Lily being obsessive, one could interpret Snape’s seeming absence of any other significant romantic interest in his life as being a result of his asexuality and/or demisexuality. When you factor in the limitations that the role he assumed from his early twenties into his thirties as a spy would have inevitably placed on his ability to form the kind of intimate connections that a grey-ace/demisexual person, in particular, would require to be able to develop an attraction then it becomes less odd that someone like Snape could go so long without any other significant romantic interests or attractions. 

Indeed, the longest relationship I ever sustained was with my high-school sweetheart (from roughly 15-17) and now into my 30s, I can wholly acknowledge I find dating and forming romantic connections difficult as a grey-ace/demisexual (I could not imagine how herculean an undertaking it would seem if I had to lead a double-life and factor that into any interactions I had with other people). So, I do tend to find it a tad troubling when people use Snape’s seeming absence of any other significant relationship with someone of the opposite sex as evidence of some kind of creepy obsession with Lily and I’ve even written a bit on how such a perspective could be a whole host of problematic things ranging from regressive and anti-feminist, reinforcing heteronormativity, exclusionary, etc. This is also notwithstanding the fact that none of Harry’s professors, with the exception of Remus Lupin, were ever written in such a way their romantic lives or histories were elaborated on. Indeed, for the most part, Snape was not an outlier in the fact that Harry’s perspective of him was as an entirely non-sexual authority figure which, I would argue, had the side-effect of making Rowling’s revelations about Snape’s friendship and love for Lily stand-out more starkly. Suddenly, Snape transitions from being just another “adult” authority figure (albeit a hated one that Harry regards as a foil and adversary) in Harry’s life, not unlike McGonagall or Dumbledore, to a fully real person with an entire life and complex set of feelings outside of his role of Potions Master. Such is the nature of youthful perceptions (and they make sense in a bildungsroman), we tend to view the adults in positions of authority in our lives on the basis of the roles they play in our lives rather than as fully-fledged human-beings with lives of their own. 

However, I digress, the fact is that an absence of anyone in Snape’s life does not necessarily point to an unhealthy obsession (although it could point to survivor’s guilt) as we only have Harry’s limited perspective (i.e. body of knowledge and observations) of Snape to go by (and he pays very little thought or attention to the love lives of any of his professors at Hogwarts) and even if Lily was Snape’s most significant relationship that does not discount the fact that the love Snape had for Lily could have been purely platonic (especially for those who may interpret Snape as ace/aro, gay or bi, etc.), something transcendent to romantic love (this interpretation would be particularly appealing for those who interpret Snape as ace/aro, gay, bi, etc.) or Snape could have loved Lily as a friend and harbored romantic feelings for her as a grey-ace/demisexual that formed a close bond with someone as a child that evolved into a more complicated series of feelings for her and, following the end of their friendship and her subsequent death, he never had the opportunity to form such a close connection with anyone else to develop romantic feelings for another person. Alternatively, we could even interpret Snape as having an experience somewhat similar to my own. I came from a home-life similar to his own, in which my experiences with childhood abuse (also from my father, although it was never sexual rather than verbal and physical) made me question if my complete absence of sexual attraction wasn’t due to the fact that I was somehow too damaged to be able to connect to anyone. I feigned attraction to other people and tried to force attraction where I felt there should be an attraction (even with male friends of mine) because I didn’t want people to think I was abnormal or broken. Similarly, as Snape and Lily matured, he could have assumed the love he felt for Lily as his friend should have been more romantic because of heteronormative expectations about male/female relationships. 

Ultimately, the very fact that canon never explicitly clarifies what Snape and Lily’s relationship was outside of friendship does provide us with room for expanded interpretations of Snape. We can choose to interpret Snape as ace/aro, gay, bi, trans, and all of these readings would be perfectly valid and could be supported by canon. That is what makes the character of Severus Snape so compelling for so many of his fans; he is complex enough for us to interpret him in many different ways and we can all find some bit of him we can relate to or that may represent us. We can go outside of his relationship with Lily to examine what relationships he may have had among the Death Eaters (e.g. Lucius Malfoy or Mulciber, for instance) that might have contributed to his decision to join them. We can examine the events of Spinners’ End in Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince and ask ourselves how Narcissa Malfoy came to be so familiar with where Snape lived. We can look at Snape in so many ways because there is so much of his canon that is subtle and open to interpretation. I personally love grey-ace/demisexual Snape and while I may explore multiple variations of Snape, as a grey-ace/demisexual myself, that is the interpretation of Snape that I most closely relate to and that is the interpretation of Snape that I most love. So, more power to you @season-of-mist you’re not alone in seeing Snape as a fellow grey-ace/demisexual. 

Yours,

Raptured Night

[padawan-historian]

The Female Game: An Analysis of the Stormborn Dragon

SPOILER warning for Season 8, Episode 1-3 and more of a SPOILER WATCH for Season 8, Episode 4 (no plot related details, but . . . a teaspoon of character and tone vibes from the episode).

Now I know we are still wrapping our heads around what we witnessed last night on Game of Thrones. But there was one discussion that caught my attention – Daenerys character development (or lack thereof) and how women are represented on the show:  

i hate that ambition in women is always used as a bad trait.

All her hard work and talk of breaking the wheel for nothing. All this talk of her being different and just and “see you for who you are” for absolutely nothing.

They should rename season 8 to “the tale of how we trashed a character’s development, made her an army of haters, just so we could make Jon Snow a hero: A study on Daenerys Targaryen.”

they really are setting up “Mad Queen” Dany and I’ll be honest, I don’t blame her at this point.

If a man acted that way it would be perfectly fine.

every single woman on game of thrones deserves better.

Ever since Game of Thrones graced the stage seven years ago, a number of fans, critics and activists have voiced concerns about the way the show portrays violence (especially sexual violence) towards female characters. However, those concerns have slowly evolved into larger conversations about the way these heroines are portrayed in comparison to power. Westeros – and most of the known world in the show – are under a patriarchal system. Men have inheritance rights, new wives join their husbands’ families and male children are given precedent over their older sisters and female relations in the line of succession (they call this primogeniture). Attempts at female rule are rare and even more rarely achieved without a healthy dose of fire and blood (search The Princess and the Queen on YouTube for more context and a juicy history lesson!).

Suspicion and hesitancy towards female rule is common in our real world (i.e. 2016 election) and is, unfortunately, not a new phenomenon. Prominent theologian, wrote in his 1558 piece, The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstruous Regiment of Women, that, “To promote a woman to beare rule, superioritie, dominion or empire aboue any realme, nation, or citie, is repugnant to nature, contumelie to God, a thing most contrarious to his reueled will and approued ordinance, and finallie it is the subuersion of good order, of all equitie and iustice”(Knox).  Across Hinduism, Buddhism, Confucianism, Islam, Christianity, and Judaism there exist exclusionary mindsets in regards to women in power dating back to antiquity. However, there are also examples of women overcoming the restrictions and barriers of their societies, such as the prominence and elevation of women within certain patriarchal systems (including Egypt, the Tang Dynasty of China, the Mongolian Empire and beyond) . Even today, within many Native American and West African communities, femaleness is connected to spiritualism – unseen forces are often defined as female, such as goddesses and masked spirits, and are often interpreted by priestesses, prophetesses, healers, fortune tellers, and female shamans. However, the dominant culture that defines our 21st century world is, largely, patriarchal and continues to prosper through the oppression of women – and, to an extent, men. 

Power is power – and there is power in subjugation.

(Sidney Note: The glass ceiling metaphor should be viewed with some context – as should my statement above ^^ While times have changed and we now have female executives, college presidents, directors, governors, ambassadors and presidential candidates there are still inequities that exist. The metaphor implies that women and men have equal access to entry- and mid-level positions (Eagly and Carli). They do not. Rather than a ceiling to break through, women often have to struggle through a labyrinth, a maze filled with dead ends, false leads and towering walls. The labyrinth is even more suffocating for minority and marginalized women.

But back to the Game of Thrones universe . . . While most of the main characters have divided the fan base at some point in time (remember how we used to hate Cersei and then we felt bad and now . . . we kind of hate her again?) the discourse around Daenerys has been relatively consistent. While some see the Dragon Queen as an entitled, power-hungry tyrant slowly turning into the Mad Queen, others view her in a more sympathetic light. Daenerys – like many women – exist within a labyrinth. At the end is the Iron Throne. But the roads, for much of her life, were determined for her. Her (thankfully) deceased brother Viserys sold her in exchange for military support. Even after his golden death, Dany was still trapped in the maze, struggling to navigate the seemingly endless corridors. She has been raped, abandoned, deceived and . . . perhaps, most damning of all, she has been wrong.

Dany has made some questionable choices throughout her reign and while this is nothing new when it comes to GOT characters, what is new is that she is in a position of considerable power. Besides Cersei and, at one time, Grandma Olenna, Daenerys is one of the most powerful women in the series. Her dragons carry the weight of nuclear weapons and, after taking several fiery walks, hatching (or incubating) three ancient creatures an liberating a city from the chains of slavery . . . well, you can see why she thinks her destiny is to sit upon the Iron Throne.

Recently, the discourse about the portrayal of women in cinema has lit a fuse within the feminist movement. While I will say that some people tend to over analyze the actions of every character - relating them back to contemporary issues, it’s no state secret that female characters are often held to a very unhealthy set of standards:

Be strong, but not emasculating.

Be desirable, but not whorish.

Be charming, but not condescending.

Be ambitious, but not too ambitious.

The criticism about her representation in the show I think comes from a place of genuine concern. These fans want her to succeed because, seven hells, this woman has been through A LOT. And while there is a dose of sexism in the discourse, I do think that some of the backlash towards the show and creative team is unwarranted.

Daenerys Stormborn is NOT the protagonist in the traditional sense. She is a principle character who is heavily featured in both the books and Martin’s 5 novels. If you look at the charts below, people (who are more tech savvy than me) created comparison charts to help determine principle characters:

You may not like that Jon is painted as the hero or that Tyrion is featured prominently, but EVERY character has faced failures and loss in this series.

The freedom to lead is not freedom from failure.

No character is entirely good or entirely bad – Dany included. From white savior to female icon, Daenerys has been a polarizing character since season 1. She has made choices that, even when justifiable, were not . . . the most diplomatic solutions. She has a temper. She can be impulsive. But she is also affectionate with her friends. She is nurturing towards her dragons (in the books, her ancestors used whips to direct their dragons). She is also a queen . . . living in a patriarchal system that Aegon Targaryen established almost 300 years prior. She is single handedly trying to undo 300 years of patriarchal feudalism. That’s a pretty ambitious goal!

While Westerosi politics are similar to our own, they do not have cemented democratic institutions. The Night’s Watch is probably the closest example we have of a meritocracy (rule by merit or ability). The majority of the kingdom falls under the rule of one monarch who distributes semiautonomous authority through bonds of vassalage.

Change requires sacrifice . . . and compromise.

When was the last time you saw a high fantasy where, at one point, there were 5 women in positions of power? The closest moment in European history where that was a thing was when Catherine the Great of Russia, Madame de Pompadour, the Mistress of the King of France, and Empress Maria Theresa of the Holy Roman Empire combined their forces to fight against Fredrick II of Prussia during the 7 Years War (Fred was kinda a misogynist and coined the phrase The League of the Three Petticoats to describe the three women). Even in early English history, women who fought for power, like Isabella of France and Margaret of Anjou, were dubbed as she-wolves or reckless, power-hungry queens. Hmmm . . . sound familiar?

Now Dany does have a temper. But so did Robert Baratheon. She can be impulsive. She has a sense of entitlement, as do most monarchs and presidents. She is compassionate, loyal to her friends and nurturing towards her dragons (in the books, her ancestors used whips to direct their dragons). She likes to be in control, but she is also willing to listen to others. But she does get angry and she does have insecurities. She is also a human and – like most humans – she is a bundle of idiosyncrasies, conflicting ideas, blinding anxieties and soaring dreams.

Are there problems with the series? Yes.

Have female (and male) characters been portrayed in ways that are questionable? Yeah.

Would a more socially conscious director craft a different narrative or create a more dynamic story? Maybe.

Are you still gonna watch the next episode this Sunday? Most likely.

If you look for flaws, you will find flaws – because, this story was not created by you. So write your own story, whip up a fanfic or make a headcannon!

And besides, there are plenty of real world issues surrounding women that you can (and should) put your energy towards.

[darkskyatnight]

I’ve noticed division in the community between certain types of trans people. I want everyone here to understand your identity is your own, someone else’s identity is their own.

In the general community outside trans people, I have seen TERFs and regular people who have disgusting views against us. You have every right to be angry about that, you have every right to want to turn your fists against them and be violet.

But I don’t think we should. I live in the UK, where TERF bullshit has allowed for campaigns within the NHS restricting hormone access through a system that forces us to identify ourselves to a system that will judge, will allow for exclusionary policy defined by which GP you visit, which clinic you visit. Our journey in the UK has only just begun.

But the thing I have learned the most is that communities are catalysts and harbingers of progress.

It’s not about the TERFs. It never is. It is about despite the oppression we face, if we can stand together as one group. It is always about the togetherness, and the families, the bonds from our shared experience. Those people who hate? They’re scared, weak little minds that can’t ever come out of their bubble if they don’t want to. That’s their motivation. Fear. They’re scared of us, scared of a new norm, a new way to live.

Let them be scared. That doesn’t mean anything to me, and it shouldn’t to you. Be furious at the hate you face, fight against it, miscredit it, I actually beg you to. What you are doing won’t change that transphobe’s mind, it never will, but with every person you correct we can gain a possible ally, possibly a new trans person who didn’t realise that’s how they felt. We could get a new brother, a new sister, a new sibling. What matters is they’re ours, and we know that experience deeply.

Allies, if you pick and choose who you want to protect of us at any given moment, you are not helping. You are helping them instead. You say you hate TERFs and transphobes then fall for their propaganda within the queer community, trying to divide us.

Allies, this is not about your hate, it never was and if you just want an acceptable target to direct YOUR hate towards? Fuck you. You need serious mental help if all you can think about is the next person you want to attack. You want it to be acceptable to have a target, and that is not okay.

Allies, what this is about is community. It is about friendship, it is about love, platonic, familial or otherwise, and it is about bonding with everyone else who has had those same experiences. We will accept you if you love us, all of us, and everyone. I mean everyone when I say this.

I’m a bad person. I’ve done bad things. But every day I try to do better, I try to help at least one person smile a day, try to be kind. And I think that’s okay.

But if you just want to attack someone, if you’re looking for someone to fight? Go to an MMA gym and fight a professional, they’ll lay your hothead ass out in seconds for being cocky. Don’t get ahead of yourselves, and step down your game.

Listen to us, listen to our experiences, I beg you, hear us. Hear our calls, hear our pointers and hear our cries when they happen. Because that is how it helps, that is how you help us out of the shadows and into the light. If you are only here to attack, you are not welcome.

You can't call yourself a trans ally until you start listening to all of us. You can't just choose whichever you group is "most oppressed" and only advocate for them. And don't pretend you hate terfs and transphobes if you only care when they target a single group. You can't pick and choose who to fight for and still claim to be fighting for all trans people

[jcmorrigan]

A Good Listener

Well, it happened. I wanted to write a oneshot for my current shipping poison. And, as usual, the fic took over and wrote itself. I snooped around, and either ff.net doesn’t have an archive for the Netflixverse of ASOUE or I couldn’t find it, and this is most DEFINITELY Netflixverse and not bookverse (though it contains bookverse elements and some mild spoilers for the bookverse and presumably things that have not yet been filmed for Netflixverse). So you’re getting this uploaded right to Tumblr.

Title: A Good Listener

Fandom/Verse: A Series of Unfortunate Events, Netflix series

Pairing: The Hook-Handed Man x The Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender

Rating: PG (swearing, small animal death, nothing actually steamy but implications that there may one day be steam - not quite T but not quite K+ either)

General notes: The Hook-Handed Man will be referred to by his bookverse canon name (so beware of spoilers in the FIRST PARAGRAPH). All the rest of Count Olaf’s associates will be referred to by names I came up with and assigned to them and should not be taken as canon or even popular fanon (though believe me, I’d be flattered if they were referred to by these names elsewhere). Fic assumes Grim Grotto and the revelations within will be played close to the books. 

(Also mad props to @gavillain for story advice and fine-tuning. I don’t even know where my writing would be without you, man.)

STORY UNDER THE CUT HERE GOES

If you asked Fernald what his best qualities were, he would not have thought of himself as an exceptionally good listener. He would instead have cited his acting talent (not entirely accurate) or his skill doing various criminal acts as required by Count Olaf (though with perhaps a twinge of doubt on his own part). In order to save face, he might have even claimed he was excellent at figuring out how to operate machinery such as telephones on the first try. This claim would have been entirely false and would have fooled absolutely no one.

           If you asked a certain other member of Count Olaf’s entourage what Fernald’s best qualities were, however, the first thing they would say was that he listens. He was, in fact, the only person that ever really seemed to listen to them.

           Before the Baudelaire children ever came into the life of Count Olaf and when his nefarious schemes were directed toward other matters than their fortune, he and his troupe were based out of a theatre of somewhat good repute located in the arts district of the city. As it turned out, running a theatre and performing shows of dubious quality was an excellent front for criminal activity ranging from arson to petty thievery to actively trying to undermine the largest secret organization dedicated to justice in the known world. Olaf had filled his theater with what he believed to be like-minded people: the bald man Bolton, the white-faced twins Charlotte and Emily, and Fernald, the one who would often come to be referred to as the “hook-handed man” after a gruesome incident best not detailed within this tale.

           Fernald was a rather exceptional case, as he himself had previously been affiliated with the very organization that Olaf had cursed and spit upon. The great schism had brought him to the conclusion that he was far more suited to setting fires than dousing them, and he had resolved never to look back. This didn’t mean he was exceptional at not looking back at all. Some things he had left behind refused to stay in the past, at least in his memory. Some days, he wished he could set fire to thoughts in order to prevent them from ever coming back to haunt him. Olaf, of course, had seen his prior involvements as an asset; a peek into the enemy’s defenses, so to speak. Olaf was a cruel master, but one with whom Fernald felt like he was on the right track.

           He was attached to his teammates as well. Bolton was difficult to get along with at first, but the two of them had found common ground to bond over after some time. Charlotte and Emily, he could never keep a good handle on which was which, but they didn’t mind Fernald calling each by the other’s name so long as he participated in their gossip sessions. Much to Olaf’s annoyance, when the four weren’t involved in a scheme or rehearsing for a masterpiece by “Al Funcoot,” they could often be found playing cards backstage, with the inevitable result that Fernald would lose.

           That was exactly what they were doing, making a point to ignore Olaf, on the day that they heard him step onstage with an unfamiliar voice accompanying him.

           “Who’s he talking to?” Fernald muttered so as not to be heard by Olaf.

           “Dunno,” Bolton replied. “Should we check it out?”

           “It might be a new associate,” Emily theorized.

           “Or maybe an enemy he’s luring into our clutches,” Charlotte suggested quietly.

           “Or a critic who saw our latest show,” Bolton added.

           “Critics actually watch our shows?” Fernald said in disbelief.

           The cards were abandoned and all four villainous associates gathered in the wings to spy on Olaf and the stranger: a tall, auburn-headed person who seemed to be reacting to Olaf’s exposition with apathy.

           “Wow,” Fernald whispered. “She’s beautiful.”

           “She?” Bolton whispered back. “That’s a man.”

           “It’s rather hard to tell from this angle,” Charlotte commented.

           “ – And, of course, you’ll have to meet the rest of them,” Olaf was saying. “They’re all idiots, of course, but they get the job done. Which is really all I’m asking of you. OHHH, HENCHPEOPLE!” Olaf clapped loudly to summon his associates.

           Fernald, Bolton, Charlotte, and Emily waited a moment before appearing so as not to give away how closely they’d been watching. “Yeah, boss?” Fernald spoke up, leading the group.

           “I would like to introduce you all to your new associate,” Olaf said dramatically, stepping out in front of the newcomer and gesturing toward them for the group’s benefit. “Avery Orson.”

           “Actually, it’s Ainsley Orlando,” the newcomer corrected in a rather monotone voice that made Bolton suddenly far more sure of his conclusion.

           “Whatever,” Olaf huffed, rolling his eyes. “Avery – “

           “Ainsley…”

           “Will be joining us for all our plots henceforth,” Olaf went on, “as a steadfast ally against those well-read do-gooders.”

           “V.F.D. looks pretty good on paper,” Ainsley stated, “but I’ve become pretty disillusioned with their exclusionary nature and literary elitism.”

           “So, basically, play nice,” Olaf commanded. “Also, Avery – “

           “Ainsley…”

           “ – is part of the theater side of the troupe as well, so hopefully, the Daily Punctilio should be a little nicer to us now that we have fresh talent,” Olaf concluded.

           “So, uh…” Bolton broke in, “you are a guy, right?”

           Fernald smacked one of his hooks against Bolton’s upper arm for that. Fernald, of course, was curious as well, but he wasn’t about to ask a new associate something that rudely.

           “Actually, neither of the binary genders accurately represents me,” Ainsley stated casually, “so if you could all use ‘they’ and ‘their’ pronouns when you refer to me, that’d be great.”

           It was a simple enough request, but one that Bolton would outright ignore over the next month, opting to still refer to Ainsley as “he” and “him.”

           “Well, Ainsley,” Fernald said, stepping forth, “welcome to the – “

           He had extended his right arm before he remembered. Withdrawing the hook, he just gave a shrug. “Team.”

           Ainsley’s eyes followed the hook, noticing the matching one on the other arm. They became incredibly curious, then, about what had happened to put Fernald in such a condition. But they, much like Fernald, weren’t about to simply put a new teammate on the spot.

           There are many things that can bring people closer together. Collaborative art projects, shared meals, fighting together against a greater evil, book clubs, classes in special interests, theatre, and assorted villainy, to name a few. Ainsley’s bonds with Fernald, Bolton, Charlotte, and Emily were forged mostly through use of the latter two.

           Olaf remained ever the leader, and often times it was hard to tell whether he was proud of the team he’d assembled or whether they made him regret most life decisions that led up to his leadership of them.

           When the Baudelaires came into their lives, it gave them all almost a sense of renewed purpose. The parents of Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were quite hated among the troupe, either through reputation or personal experience, and their passing was not mourned. And now that Olaf had his sights set on obtaining their wealth, the others found themselves onboard a fast-moving train of plotting and scheming that was much more interesting than their pre-Baudelaire days.

           However, Olaf’s initial dealings with the children prompted several absences from the theatre, leaving the other five to their own devices and not much to do other than rehearse the “Al Funcoot” piece known as “The Handsomest Zookeeper.” This was extremely hard to do when the man who had insisted upon casting himself in the titular role was absent, but the others made do by propping up a broom and draping a suit over it, pretending it was Olaf.

           “So when do you think we get to meet the brats?” Bolton asked during a stretch of down time; the twins had taken a break to brew some tea that would become heavily sugared while Ainsley, as the rookie, was tasked with changing the set pieces for the next act. Bolton and Fernald reclined as best they could in the front row seats of the audience.

           “Whenever Olaf decides we can actually get involved again,” Fernald grumbled. “You think he was serious about splitting the fortune with us?”            “He better be” was Bolton’s only response.

           After a moment’s silence, Bolton asked, “What do you think of the new guy?”

           “You mean Ainsley?” Fernald replied. “First of all, they’re not a ‘guy.’ Second…they’re all right. They seem to fit in well around here. Good enough actor.”

           “He never shuts up about weird stuff,” Bolton commented.

           “They have a lot to say,” Fernald rephrased. “It’s interesting, sometimes.”

           “Yeah, sometimes.”

           Both were interrupted by a piercing scream. Ainsley, shrieking loudly, pealed onstage. The current set had been meant to emulate a dining room, with a large, crooked wooden table taking center stage. In one feat of unprecedented dexterity, Ainsley leapt on top of this table, positioning themselves at its center and frantically looking around at the stage below, cries petering out into whimpers.

           Bolton stifled a laugh. Fernald, on the other hand, immediately concerned by whatever had Ainsley so terrified, practically jumped up from his seat, rushing onstage at the same time that Charlotte and Emily skidded into the auditorium from the outside hall, nearly spilling their tea. “What’s wrong?” Fernald barked up at Ainsley.

           Ainsley required a few breaths in order to collect themselves before informing Fernald, “There’s a snake backstage…”

           “A snake?” Fernald repeated, and Bolton, Charlotte, and Emily all flinched. “What kind of snake?” Fernald hoped not to hear the response “The deadly kind.”

           “It’s just…it’s a snake,” Ainsley responded, visibly trembling and turning circles and circles on the table to be on guard for it. “And it’s RIGHT THERE!” They pointed at a spot on the stage floor where the perpetrator, a smaller-than-usual garter snake, was curiously making its way out from the wings.

           “That…is a very tiny snake,” Fernald pointed out.

           Ainsley had run out of words, shuffling toward the edge of the table that was furthest from the snake’s current position.

           “You’re not going to be okay until one of us kills it, are you?” Fernald sighed. He wasn’t a fan of snakes either. Had the garter snake been any larger, he would have been slightly nervous.

           Ainsley shook their head, their quivering becoming even more prominent.

           “One minute,” Fernald sighed, storming backstage (to the opposite wing from where the snake was) to root through the troupe’s collection of odd props that could conveniently double as weaponry. A snow shovel caught his eye. It took him a few tries to get his hooks in a grip on the handle, and it tilted at an awkward angle as he carried it back out onstage.

           By this point, Charlotte and Emily had joined Bolton in the front row of the audience. The scene was becoming far more entertaining to them than any Jacquelyn Seieszka film.

           Fernald didn’t just kill the snake with the snow shovel. He smashed it flat repeatedly, absolutely destroying its physical form so that it barely resembled a snake anymore. The WHAM, WHAM, WHAM of the shovel hitting the floor bounced around the acoustically excellent walls of the auditorium. After about a solid two minutes of making sure the garter snake was obliterated from existence, Fernald finally dropped the shovel. “The snake is gone,” he announced, turning back around to face Ainsley.

           Ainsley looked back at him with uncertainty.

           “You can get down off the table,” Fernald encouraged. “It’s dead.”

           Ainsley gingerly clambered down onto the stage as Fernald approached them, driven inexplicably by the desire to make sure Ainsley wasn’t permanently traumatized.

           It should not be necessary to point out that Ainsley was ophidiophobic, and didn’t have a good relationship with most other types of reptiles either. The garter snake’s sudden appearance had shaken them, and though the threat was now neutralized, they were still reeling from the scare. Instinctively, they sought a protective bastion until their heart rate had lowered, and so, without even thinking, they closed the distance between themselves and Fernald and wrapped the latter in a tight embrace, grateful that Fernald had stepped up to get rid of the offending reptile and now seeing Fernald as the safest thing in the entire auditorium.

           Fernald was stunned by this reaction, though he didn’t make any moves to shoo Ainsley away. Instead, after some thought, he gently wrapped his own arms around Ainsley, taking care not to jab them in the back with either hook. “It’s all right,” he repeated. “The snake is gone.”

           Ainsley realized what they were doing just then, letting go of Fernald and backing away in embarrassment. “Can we…pretend that never happened?” they asked sheepishly.

           Fernald nodded, a bit flustered himself. “Sure. That’s…a VERY good idea.”

           “Hey,” Bolton called up from the audience. “Somethin’ going on between you two?”

           “Something?” Fernald replied. “What do you mean SOMETHING? There’s NOTHING!”

           “I was just reacting out of ophidiophobia-driven instinct,” Ainsley added. “There really isn’t any deeper meaning behind what just happened.”

           “Of course there isn’t,” Charlotte said teasingly.

           “Why would we EVER think there was?” Emily added, equally teasingly, and the twins’ smirks were both far too gleeful.

           “The snake is dead,” Fernald growled. “End of discussion.”

           “You know what would happen if you two WERE a thing, right?” Bolton brought up.

           “By ‘thing,’ do you mean a couple?” Ainsley clarified. “Because if you mean that, we’re definitely not.”

           “Olaf would figure out some way to use it against you,” Bolton pointed out. “Get you to do what he wanted.”

           “Then it’s a good thing we’re NOT A COUPLE,” Fernald insisted. He knew quite well how ruthless Olaf could be about exploiting where one’s affections lay; that was why he’d been careful to the extreme about never letting Olaf know he had a sister.

           “Right,” Bolton jeered. “Mr. The-New-Guy-Sure-Is-Pretty.”

           Ainsley turned to Fernald in interest. “You said that?”            “NO!” Fernald yelled defensively. “Can we just get back to work already?”            Ainsley gave him a shrug that more or less meant “yes.”

           “And somebody clean up that dead snake!” Fernald barked as he stormed backstage. 

           Ainsley’s downtown apartment wasn’t overly lavish, nor was it representative of one living in destitution. It was small, but for one person living alone, that made sense, Fernald thought as he glanced around it. He felt incredibly out of place there, and wondered how he’d even gotten to that location. Of course, he knew how: it just struck him as a bit unbelievable.

           Olaf’s scheme to marry Violet Baudelaire had gone belly-up. Now the entire troupe was on the run from the law, though the law hardly had any idea where to start looking for them or what their names even were. All five had felt relatively safe hiding out in their own abodes, though when the phone had rung earlier that afternoon, Fernald had admittedly jumped, fearing the law had already tracked him down (and not realizing that the first thing they would do was knock on his door, not call him on the telephone to try to arrest him via audio). It had taken him, as usual, a few minutes to figure out how to answer the phone. No matter how many times he did it, he seemed to always mix up the receiver and the mouthpiece; it simply didn’t click as a natural pattern in his brain. When he finally did get it turned right way round, he practically yelled “HELLO?”            “Is this Fernald?” a familiar voice had asked.

           “Who is this?” Fernald snapped in response. “Who’s calling me?”            “This is Ainsley,” the voice replied. “I kinda want your help with something.”

           And that had begun the conversation that led Fernald downtown to Ainsley’s living space.

           “So do you want any coffee or anything?” Ainsley offered.

           “No,” Fernald said brisky. “I’m good. Thank you.”            “You can totally sit on the couch if you want,” Ainsley continued.

           Fernald took them up on that one, settling in on the beige couch. “So what did you want my help with?” he asked.

           “I actually have an audition in a couple hours,” Ainsley informed him, “and I wanted a second opinion on if I was emoting properly in the soliloquy I prepared for it.”

           “You’re actually doing a show the boss didn’t write?” Fernald said incredulously. “Which one?”

           “Equus.”

           “Isn’t that the one where the kid gets turned on by horses?”            “It’s actually more complicated than that,” Ainsley explained. “It’s basically a critical analysis of spirituality in modern society.”

           “I’ll, uh…I’ll take your word for it.” Fernald settled back into the couch. “So, uh…did you invite the rest of the troupe over, or…?”            “Just you, actually,” Ainsley admitted. “I just think you’re probably the most appropriate person to judge my delivery and give me an honest opinion.” That wasn’t quite true, but Ainsley didn’t feel it quite appropriate to let on to Fernald that he was the person they felt the most comfortable around, between him using their correct pronouns and his actions during the day of the great garter snake invasion.

           “Well, let’s hear it,” Fernald encouraged.

           Ainsley momentarily wondered if inviting Fernald to review their audition was a mistake. Watching him watch them was giving them classic symptoms of stage fright, which Ainsley found odd, as they generally didn’t have such a condition, even in front of audiences of hundreds. Perhaps it was because of their amicability toward each other, the fact that Ainsley actually knew the lone member of their audience this time, that was causing Ainsley’s heart to beat faster and palms to sweat. They closed their eyes momentarily in order to find the beginning of what they’d memorized, then took a breath, opened their eyes, and began to recite.

           They didn’t get two lines in when the phone rang.

           “Sorry,” Ainsley sighed. “I have to get that.”

           “Go ahead,” Fernald replied.

           He watched Ainsley walk into the kitchen to answer the phone; the door offered a clear view of them the whole while. “Hello?” they greeted, picking up the receiver. “Yeah, this…you what? You totally couldn’t have called at a worse time. Okay, so I have this audition for Equus in a couple hours and…I don’t really…no, I…that’s not…can you at least let me talk? Okay, fine. I’ll be there. Yes, I’ll tell them. All of them. No, I won’t forget – his name is Bolton. And mine’s Ainsley. I said I’ll BE there.” They slammed the receiver back to the telephone base with a show of force Fernald had never seen before. Then, continuing to surprise Fernald, they picked the receiver up and slammed it angrily back into place several more times. Fernald had a pretty good idea of who had called.

           He got up from the couch, crossing tentatively into the kitchen. “That was the boss?”            “Yeah,” Ainsley confirmed, still staring daggers at the phone.

           “Let me guess. He needs us for a scheme. Right now.”

           “Yeah.”

           After an awkward silence, Ainsley turned to face Fernald, obviously trying to stuff their anger away. “Fernald?”

           “What?”

           “How do you spell ‘coroner’?” 

           Somehow, the entire troupe managed to shake off the authorities that were tailing their van, despite the van being emblazoned with a definitely misspelled “CORNER,” a testament to why Fernald should never be asked to help spell anything.

           Fernald, Ainsley, Bolton, Charlotte, and Emily ended up holing up at a rundown motel, awaiting Olaf’s call and further instructions. They booked four rooms, with Charlotte and Emily sharing one. They then congregated in Fernald’s room, all five cramming onto the bed, in order to start up a new card game.

           There were only so many hours that can be killed playing cards. “Maybe he forgot about us this time,” Bolton theorized.

           “If only we were so lucky,” Charlotte griped.

           Emily elbowed her sister in the side. “Without Olaf, where are we?”

           “We’re here, is where we are,” Fernald grumbled, playing the absolute most wrong card he could have picked. “Playing cards in a dingy motel where I know I saw at least three spiders in the bathroom.” A thought occurred to him. “Ainsley…you aren’t afraid of spiders, are you?”            “Not as much as snakes,” Ainsley replied, intentionally picking a worse card than Fernald’s play. It hadn’t taken them long to catch onto the fact that Fernald usually lost at such games, and they felt somewhat piteous toward him for that, hence the beginning of an intentional losing streak on Ainsley’s end.

           “Well, if nothing else, we’ll at least get treated to another show of Fernald beating the spiders to death with a toothbrush,” Emily joked.

           The last card was played and the score tallied. “You know, Ainsley,” Bolton commented, “you’re really bad at this.”

           “I know,” Ainsley responded nonchalantly. “And totally not on purpose, either.”

           “Another hand?” Charlotte asked.

           This was met with four groans; everyone was sick of playing. “I’m going to bed,” Bolton announced as the group scrambled off Fernald’s bed.

           “I’m going to go find coffee,” Ainsley added. “I have seriously needed coffee for hours.”

           “It’s…” Fernald checked the clock. “Eleven at night. And you’re getting COFFEE?”

           “I’ll have decaf,” Ainsley said with a shrug.

           “It’s already eleven?” Charlotte remarked. “That’s far past bedtime, if you ask me. What do you think, Emi – “

           Emily collapsed onto Fernald’s bed face-first, snoring.

           Bolton had to scoop her up to carry her back to the room she shared with Charlotte. “If he calls at two in the morning,” he informed everyone, “I’m seriously going to think about punching him in the face when we see him again.”

           The group parted ways, and Fernald lay down in his solitary bed. At first, he considered simply going to sleep. It was, after all, very late. Yet he made no move to detach his hooks, as he usually would before lying down for the night. He wondered if it was reflection upon all the excitement of the Dr. Montgomery incident that kept him from dousing his mental light.

           Then he wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Ainsley had said they weren’t going to sleep just yet either.

           He found himself leaving his room to make his way to the lounge. A small, weathered coffee machine was situated in the middle of a counter, free for use by patrons of the motel. Fernald guessed Ainsley had been here in order to obtain the coffee, but they were long gone by that point. Perhaps they’d gone back to sleep.

           Crossing back through the lobby, Fernald stopped to ask the hostess, “Have…you seen a very tall person with reddish hair come through this way with a cup of coffee?”

           The hostess nodded. “She actually went out front of the building. There are a couple chairs set up out there.”

           “They’re not a…” Fernald shook his head. “Never mind.”

           He exited the motel into the dark night to see a patch of rickety-looking chairs set up on the lawn in a semblance of guest convenience. One of them was occupied. Fernald reconsidered joining the familiar silhouette for a moment; perhaps they just wanted to be alone. Then again, there was never any harm in asking, was there?

           “Mind if I sit?” he asked as he approached Ainsley.

           “Go ahead,” Ainsley replied, and Fernald took the chair next to him.

           There was silence for a moment as Ainsley sipped from their steaming, chipped cup and Fernald rummaged around his mind for conversation topics. “So,” he said at last. “Some day, huh?”

           “Yeah,” Ainsley replied, rather miffed as they recalled the events. “Because missing my potential break into serious acting in favor of walking into a plethora of snakes and other assorted reptiles was totally how I wanted to spend my day.”

           “Well, look at it this way,” Fernald pointed out. “You might have missed your audition, but you brought down the house as Nurse Lucafont.”

           It was hard to tell in the dark, but somehow Fernald was still able to detect the faint smile that replaced Ainsley’s disgruntled expression upon hearing that. “You weren’t bad either.”

           It was then that Fernald realized, for the first time in hours, that they were still wearing their disguises from earlier in the day. He couldn’t imagine what the hostess must have thought of the entire troupe walking in dressed as though they were the cast of a forensics-based TV program. “You look pretty good in that,” he said softly.

           “What?”

           “What?” Fernald feigned ignorance. “So…what were you thinking about out here?”

           “Lots of things.” Ainsley paused to take another long sip. “I was actually considering the nature of romantic love.”

           Fernald didn’t even think to wonder what could have put Ainsley on that train of thought, even though by that point, it would have been obvious to any outsider. “What about it?”

           “I was wondering if it’s even real,” Ainsley explained. “Sometimes I think it’s all just a societal construct designed to fool us into taking on cultural roles that are largely patriarchal. Sometimes I think it’s actually one of the greatest mysteries and most powerful forces in existence.”

           “You…ever been in love?”            “Not yet. But I think I’ve been pretty close a few times.” Another sip of coffee. “What’s your take on the subject?”            “I don’t even know,” Fernald admitted. “I guess I think it’s real. I’ve felt…things. About people. I don’t know as much about this kind of stuff as you do.”

           “I think you do,” Ainsley corrected. “You just word it differently.”

           It was then that Fernald failed to exhibit the self-control he knew he should have had. Listening to Ainsley speak had only reminded him of all the things he appreciated about his co-worker, and he suddenly felt compelled to demonstrate this. He leaned over in the dark, briefly kissing Ainsley on the cheek.

           The coffee cup hit the ground, its remaining contents spilling.

           Fernald was hit with the full realization of what he’d just done. Ainsley had turned to face him, and he could make out an expression of bewilderment on their face. “I don’t know why I just did that,” he sputtered, flummoxed. “Do you hear Bolton calling me? I think I hear Bolton calling me.” He rose from his seat and turned to scurry back to the motel. “I should go – “

           “Fernald.”

           A hand landed softly on his shoulder from behind; Ainsley had risen as well. Fernald had to work up the nerve to turn back around and look them in the eye.

           “It’s when I’m with you that I think the idea of romantic love isn’t a total fallacy,” Ainsley confessed.

           “Wait, really?” Fernald replied.

           “You’re the only one who really listens to me,” Ainsley told him. They leaned forward a stitch, and Fernald caught on, stepping closer to meet them so that Ainsley could gently press their lips to Fernald’s. Their hands sought out and caressed the sides of Fernald’s face, and Fernald found himself rather lamenting that he didn’t have hands to do the same; the best he could do was just wrap his arms around Ainsley’s waist as he returned the kiss more forcefully.

           “Olaf can’t know,” he said when they parted from the kiss.

           “Olaf won’t know,” Ainsley reassured him.

           “NONE OF THEM can know.”

           “They won’t.”

           They stepped back from each other. “It’s probably midnight,” Ainsley realized.

           “And nobody knows how long we have to get any sleep before the boss calls,” Fernald sighed. “Just…one more, first?”

           They kept the kiss brief, then walked back into the motel side by side.

           “Goodnight, Ainsley,” Fernald said earnestly.

           “Sweet dreams, Fernald.”

           They entered their respective rooms, across the hall from each other, and as each closed the door, each took a moment to lean back on it and reflect in disbelief on what had just taken place.

           To Olaf’s credit, he didn’t call at two in the morning. He called at three. 

           Shortly thereafter, the troupe found themselves ferrying Count Olaf across Lake Lachrymose. While Bolton, Ainsley, Fernald, Charlotte, and Emily crammed themselves into a small rowboat, Olaf fixed a slightly smaller rowboat behind them and decided immediately he wasn’t going to be doing any of the work whatsoever. Charlotte and Emily sat up front while Fernald was positioned in the rear of the boat between Bolton and Ainsley, the latter two of whom were rowing to propel the entire entourage forward. This was at the behest of Olaf, or, at the very least, he had wanted “Gordon and Avery” to do the rowing.

           “So the Montgomery thing was a bust,” Olaf rambled, as much to himself as to anyone else. “At least he’s dead, and if there’s one thing we didn’t need, it was Montgomery Montgomery figuring out our plan. I still can’t believe that idiot thought I was from the Herpetological Society. Given his reputation, I’m surprised he didn’t figure out who I was right away and make up some lie about thinking I was a spy from some cold-sore organization to throw me off the trail.” Then he paused. “…He didn’t just DO that to me, did he?”

           Olaf continued to rant, to the point where Fernald was basically tuning him out. He noticed when the boat seemed to take a sudden tilt to the side. Bolton’s rowing was still steadfast, but Ainsley was flagging. Fernald took one look at Ainsley and knew something was wrong; they were bent over the oar, face gone completely pale.

           “Are you okay?” Fernald whispered.

           “No,” Ainsley whispered back. “I’m trying really hard not to throw up over the side of the boat.”

           “What, you’re seasick?”

           “It’s a large lake, remember? I’m large-lakesick.”

           “I swear you’ve told us you’ve been on boats before!” Fernald hissed.

           “Bigger boats,” Ainsley corrected. “Boats where I can’t actually feel the water…rocking.”

           “You going to be able to row?”

           “No…”

           “Give it to me. Now.”

           Ainsley nodded, pursing their lips together to be sure that the next thing that came out of their mouth was words and not vomit. Both Fernald and Ainsley knew far better than to stand up in the boat, an action that would surely take the whole operation overboard and make the others not only soaked but very, very crabby. They did their best to shuffle past each other, switching places. Once Fernald was settled on the edge of the boat, it took him a couple tries to position his hooks in such a manner that he had a definite grip on the oar, but at last he found a comfortable hold and took up the job of boat propulsion.

           “What are you doing?” Bolton asked.

           “Switching,” Fernald answered sternly.

           “Yeah, but WHY?”

           “Because I want to row the boat,” Fernald insisted.

           “You’re just rowing because HE’S too lazy to,” Bolton accused, indicating Ainsley, who was at that point settling in to lie on the bottom of the boat between Bolton and Fernald.

           “They’re not a ‘he,’” Fernald growled.

           “I’m right here,” Ainsley reminded them both. “You can actually, you know, talk to me.”

           “Sorry,” Fernald muttered.

           “Will you all quit arguing and ROW THE BOAT?” Olaf yelled from his position behind.

           “That’s exactly what we’re doing, boss!” Fernald called back. He then looked down to Ainsley, asking softly, “Any better?”            “Yeah,” Ainsley replied, shutting their eyes tightly.

           “Just keep your eyes closed,” Fernald advised, “and try not to think about the waves rocking the boat back and forth, or the water rippling underneath us, or the – “

           “FERNALD.” Ainsley had opened one eye to glare up at him.

           “Probably not helping. Right. Sorry.” 

           The Captain Sham gambit was twice as convoluted as Plan Stephano. The troupe put on their best performances (which isn’t saying a lot) when it came to uniting Olaf and Josephine in a romantic relationship that was about as real as the second elevator shaft in 667 Dark Avenue.

           From there, it was a madcap rush between fencing the Baudelaires in at Josephine’s cliffside abode and making sure everything at the Anxious Clown restaurant went as wrong as it could.

           As Arthur Poe and Count Olaf, still in the guise of Captain Sham, sat in the main seating area of the small dining facility, the troupe had the run of the kitchen, making sure their captive waiter Larry didn’t give the game away by hiding messages in the food he was to bring to the Baudelaires. Larry, for his part, had either believed the quintet to be incredibly stupid or hadn’t counted on them being familiar with the secret V.F.D. methods of communication.

           “You’ll never defeat us,” Larry asserted. “You can surround us. You can throw us out of windows. You can threaten us and make us cook for you – “

           “Sorry to interrupt, but what’s the soup of the day?”

           Larry, Charlotte, Emily, and Bolton’s heads all whipped to look at Ainsley, stupefied that they’d made such a non sequitur request. Fernald, for his part, was unfazed.

           “Well?” Fernald barked. “Answer the question!”

           “It’s clam chowder,” Larry growled. “But I don’t see what that has to do with – “

           “You’re OUR hostage now,” Fernald insisted. “And that means you do what we say. And right now, I say you MAKE THE DAMN SOUP!”

           He stole a quick glance at Ainsley, whose face had lit up.

           “And while you’re at it,” Fernald ordered, “get me one of those Cheer-Up Cheeseburgers.”

           “Don’t put any secret messages in that one, either,” Ainsley added.

            This wasn’t to say that everything between Fernald and Ainsley was forged of complete accord. They had their share of arguments. For instance, one was had the night before, when Fernald, hoping to divert attention from the time the two spent together, had clearly assigned Ainsley the task of guarding Larry, and Ainsley, thinking the twins had it under control, had simply gotten into the car with the rest of the troupe. Then there was later that very same day at the Anxious Clown, when Fernald found Ainsley and Larry having a conversation about pasta puttanesca. Then again, it wasn’t so much a conversation as Larry bewilderedly listening to one of his captors describe a pasta recipe he already knew how to make to him and wondering how he’d gone from being the troupe’s dish-washing servant to this.

           “STOP BEING FRIENDLY TO HIM!” Fernald snapped at Ainsley, having flashbacks of when he’d been less than cruel to Sunny Baudelaire and how well that had turned out.

           Ainsley fell silent, looking away. They absolutely hated being snapped at by Fernald; it hit right in the heart.

           The telephone rang. Neither Ainsley, who was still dismayed from being shouted at by Fernald, nor Fernald, who was at that moment wondering if he’d been too curt with Ainsley, thought to actually stop Larry from answering it. “Anxious Clown Restaurant,” Larry greeted halfheartedly. “This is Larry, your waiter.”

           “Larry, I don’t have much time,” a muffled voice, likely disguised by a cloth placed over the mouthpiece of the connected phone, said over the line. “The Quagmires are alive.”

           “Alive?” Larry said in disbelief. “Where?”

           “The tunnel system should have taken them to the depths of Peru.”

           “Peru?”

           “We haven’t heard anything on the Quagmire children. Are they still safe?”            “Secure for the moment,” Larry hissed, “but you need to know – “

            “So are you gonna stop him?” Ainsley grunted.

           Fernald realized letting the hostage use the telephone may have been a fatal mistake. He rushed to overtake Larry, hooking the phone cord and yelling into the mouthpiece, “WHO IS THIS?” His usual telephone illiteracy overtook him, and he peered into, then listened at the mouthpiece, trying to remember how those cursed devices actually worked. He fumbled with the receiver for a moment before giving up on it completely. “Hello?” he yelled at the phone. “HELLO!” He then bashed the phone a couple times with one hook. “How does it WORK? HELLO!”

           Larry simply stared on in fear and disbelief.

           Fernald spun to face Ainsley. “HELP ME WITH THIS THING!”

           “No,” Ainsley replied, not making eye contact.

           “WHY NOT?”

           “Because you yelled at me.”

           “Listen.” Fernald dropped the receiver and stormed toward Ainsley. “We don’t have time for fooling around, making nice with the hostages!”

           “We don’t have time to waste trying to figure out how phones work, either.”

           “WHAT?”

           The argument that followed was lengthy, with Fernald’s volume steadily increasing while Ainsley put more and more creativity into the insults they hurled at Fernald in return.

           “YOU THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF GAME?”

           “If it is, you’re a pawn with delusions of grandeur of being a dictatorial king.”

           “I BET YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PLAY CHESS!”

           Larry tried to use his captors’ distracted state to edge toward the door, but Bolton, Charlotte, and Emily all planted themselves in front of it so he couldn’t make an escape attempt.

           “The only reason,” Fernald huffed, finally running out of steam, “I didn’t want you to play nice with him is because that’s how you end up with tape on your mouth, giving the hostage a free ride all the way down to the theater. I know this from PERSONAL EXPERIENCE.” He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Sorry I yelled.”

           “Sorry I called you an ignorant example of the sheeple that are slowly poisoning our already toxic society. Among other things.”

           “You’re forgiven,” Fernald relented.

           “Are those two…?” Larry tried to whisper.

           “We’re not a couple,” Fernald and Ainsley said as one in a knee-jerk reaction.

           “Of course not,” Charlotte said smugly.

           “Whyever would we think you were?” Emily said even more smugly.

           Fernald and Ainsley exchanged a nervous glance, then looked away from each other, both wondering if they’d gotten a bit too obvious. 

           The Captain Sham sham sank like a rowboat that had just been pulverized by a cannonball. However, the entire troupe escaped once again, speaking to Mr. Poe’s ability to actually corner known villains.

           “Where are we going now, boss?” Fernald asked as they all loaded up into a getaway car.

           “WE aren’t going anywhere,” Olaf replied, briefly glancing into the rearview mirror, which was pointed down at his face rather than at the back window as is actually safe when driving in heavy traffic, so he could wink at himself. “I’m going to contact an old ally. You’re going to wait until I call you for further instructions.”

           While Olaf made haste toward a town calling itself “Paltryville,” the other five returned to the city. Bolton hid out in his usual apartment, and the twins found their house in the suburbs to be secure. When it came to Fernald and Ainsley, however, splitting up wasn’t in the cards.

           “I never saw your place,” Ainsley pointed out.

           “I don’t really think you want to,” Fernald replied.

           They ended up at Fernald’s apartment anyway, and Fernald found himself somewhat self-conscious of the mess it had been left in. Hardly anything was clean, and nothing was where it was supposed to be, with dishes on the bookshelf and socks in the silverware drawer. The entire apartment ran on a premise known to many as “organized chaos.” Fernald knew where everything was, and it was exactly where he needed it to be. He suspected Ainsley wouldn’t see eye-to-eye with him on this, however.

           “I know,” he sighed. “It’s a mess.”

           “It’s bigger than my place,” Ainsley pointed out.

           They spent the afternoon playing various card games. Fernald was astonished that Ainsley lost every single hand, thinking it miraculously that he’d somehow found the one person in the world who was worse at card games than he was – though again, this was an intentional act on Ainsley’s part. And Ainsley was more than happy to owe Fernald a back rub for a lost game.

           After some discussion, they decided it was still too soon to be sharing sleeping quarters, but at the same time, they did want to remain together for as much time as they had, knowing it wouldn’t be much before Olaf called them into action once more. Fernald decided to spend the night on the couch, letting Ainsley have the bed in the adjacent room.

           Thinking Ainsley was settling into the bed for the night, Fernald detached his hooks, huddling under a spare blanket on the couch, which was old but not uncomfortable. No sooner had he closed his eyes when he heard a voice asking, “Can I make a cup of coffee?”

           “It’s ten-thirty,” Fernald replied, opening his eyes and sitting up. “So I assume you want decaf.”

           He talked Ainsley through the locations of the coffee grounds and filters in the kitchen, as well as the mugs, which were kept in a cabinet under the television. As Ainsley watched the coffee drip into the pot, Fernald asked, “What are you thinking about?”, knowing Ainsley was always thinking about something and suspecting their mind was going into overdrive if they needed coffee that late at night.

           “I was just thinking about evil,” Ainsley admitted. “I always thought good and evil were another binary that people didn’t really belong to one or the other of. Morality isn’t black-and-white. It’s more like a grayish color. A lot of people do bad things for good reasons, and a lot of people do good things for bad reasons. Then there’s us. We do bad things for bad reasons, but really, so far, we’ve just been doing what we need to do in order to get ahead. We’re looking out for ourselves, and people like us need to do that.”

           “But?” Fernald encouraged, sensing doubt in Ainsley’s voice.

           “I’m starting to wonder if we’re taking it too far,” they admitted. “I was cool with Dr. Montgomery dying and all, but Josephine wasn’t really a threat to us. I also didn’t actually see Dr. Montgomery GET killed, which, all considered, shouldn’t really change things, but it still made me wonder if I’m actually becoming evil.” The coffee maker beeped; Ainsley removed the pot to pour a cup. “And I thought I’d be cool with it if I was, but maybe I’m not.” They paused, momentarily afraid to look Fernald in the eye. “You probably think that means I don’t belong with the rest of the team, then. Or you.”

           “I don’t think that,” Fernald assured them, lightly touching the end of his arm to their forearm. “Good and evil are complicated. I never thought people were one or the other either. I always thought people were more like…chef salads, with good and evil mixed up in them.”

           “Even Olaf?”            “Yes. He’s got some good in him SOMEwhere. Just not where any of us can see it. I know I have a lot of good and evil mixed up in me. I’m fine with it. And I think you’re the same way. I don’t know exactly HOW good or HOW evil you are. But I like you. I always love hearing you talk about stuff like this.”

           Ainsley turned to face Fernald, smiling unsurely. “And I totally love that you listen.”

           They kissed briefly. “I like you so much,” Ainsley continued, and they kissed again after that. “But what happens next time – “

           “Let’s not think about next time yet,” Fernald decided before a third kiss ensued.

           That seemed to bring Ainsley to a realization. “You always listen to me,” they reiterated, backing off a bit. “Maybe I don’t listen to you enough. I want to know more about you. How’d you get involved with Olaf, anyway?”            And in that moment, Fernald was tempted to tell Ainsley everything he could never have told Olaf. About Fiona. About the true nature of the V.F.D. schism and what led him to make his choice. He was ready to begin speaking of all such things, and very nearly poured all of his secrets out in a manner similar to how Ainsley had poured the contents of the coffee pot into a cup, when the phone rang, and they both knew who was calling.

           Fernald looked at the ends of his arms in a panic; answering the phone would be twice as difficult without his hooks, and it would take him a bit of time to reattach them, time during which Olaf would become grouchier and grouchier. Ainsley knew exactly what Fernald was thinking, asking, “Do you need me to hold the phone?”            “Yes…”

           In an instant, Fernald was set up in front of the telephone, with Ainsley holding the receiver to his ear. “Hello?” Fernald greeted.

           “Ferdinand?” Olaf said in disbelief. “Usually it takes you longer to answer a phone.”

           Fernald exchanged a quick and somewhat anxious look with Ainsley. “Had to get it right sometime,” he said sheepishly. “So, whaddaya need, boss?”

           “I’m at the Lucky Smells Lumbermill in Paltryville,” Olaf explained, “and they just so happen to be in need of a new foreman. One with HANDS, mind you. Being the brilliant casting director that I am, I know you’re perfect for the job. Though, like I said, bring hands. We need a little…ACCIDENT to happen here at the mill.”

           “I’ll be right there,” Fernald promised.

           “And hurry it up,” Olaf insisted.

           “I am literally headed out the door as we speak!” Fernald replied, following in his boss’ footsteps of confusing the definitions of “literally” and “figuratively.” He nodded to Ainsley, who took the cue to hang up the phone.

           “The boss needs me in Paltryville,” Fernald explained. “Now.”

           “You need me to come along?” Ainsley asked.

           Fernald didn’t just refuse because Olaf hadn’t specified for anyone else to accompany him. Olaf’s emphasis on the word “accident” rang in his ears, coupled with Ainsley’s uncertainty about murdering Josephine Anwhistle. “I’ll be fine,” he said simply. “This shouldn’t take long, hopefully.”

           “I’ll wait for you,” Ainsley promised. 

           Of course, villains, even villains with a fair amount of good and evil mixed together in them, are as subject to misery as those who are not villains. No matter how much sugar you put in your tea, you cannot escape the impending rocks that life places beneath your wheels.

           However, this also means that villains are just as apt as those who are not villains to come by events that are fortunate, though for those who are their victims, these events are usually seen from the opposite point of view entirely. Sometimes, however, they simply find something as significant as someone to talk to, or someone to listen to. And from a certain point of view, that isn’t so unfortunate after all.

[beatrice-otter]

TERFs make my blood boil: On Being Podcast edition

For those of you fortunate enough to not know what they are, TERFs are trans-exclusionary radical feminists.  There are a wide variety of them (and some sound reasonable at first blush), but those few "man-hating feminists" who actually exist are all pretty much TERFs.  And part of what their extremist response to men ends up as is a denial that transwomen are women.  (Hence "trans-exclusionary.")  Feminism isn't about equality for all people, to a TERF; it's about advancement for biological females.  These are also the people behind "queer is a slur which can't be reclaimed!"  Because queer is an umbrella category, see, which makes it a lot harder to police who is a "real" LGBT+ person than any other term.  And if you can push some people--aces, genderqueer, transpeople, bi/pan people, and others out or at least to the fringes--you can much more easily separate out who the "real" women are, and who "deserves" support, from those who "don't". Anyway, I was listening to the On Being podcast today.  (On Being, for those of you who don't know, is an EXCELLENT radio show/podcast which "opens up the animating questions at the center of human life: What does it mean to be human, and how do we want to live?"  It often addresses issues of religion and spirituality from a broad range of traditions.)  This week's show is a conversation with Joy Ladin, an Orthodox Jewish transwoman who is a professor at Stern College for Women of Yeshiva University.  And I was excited.  Queer representation!  Religious queer representation!  I'm not trans, and I'm not Jewish, but I am asexual and aromantic and there isn't much out there sympathetic to the intersection of queerness and religion, and most of what there is focuses on Evangelical/Fundamentalist/Conservative Christianity (which I am not) and homosexuality, no nuance or anything (and I'm also not homosexual).

A few minutes in, Joy started talking about hurtful comments on her blog posts dealing with transitioning in her forties.  These comments were from both very conservative and very liberal people, she said, and they agreed about something.  And I thought, Oh, God, it's TERFs.  I am disappointed but not surprised when conservatives are nasty to queer people; when supposed progressives are, it hits a lot harder.  Joy did not use that term, but apparently they were all very adamant that gender isn't just about presentations, it's about experiences, and they've experienced oppression because they are women that Joy hasn't because everybody assumed she was a man for the first 40+ years of her life, so she really doesn't count as a woman.  Or, at least, not as much of a woman as they are.

Reader, I had to stop listening.  Because Joy seemed to have accepted this and internalized this, from what little of the conversation about this I could stand to hear. This is what INFURIATES me about TERFs.  I get that shared or similar trauma can be a powerful bonding mechanism; I get that someone who hasn't shared that trauma or one like it will be different than someone who has.  But TRAUMA AND THE EXPERIENCE OF SEXISM IS NOT THE WHOLE OR EVEN LARGEST PART OF WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A WOMAN.  AND EVEN IF IT WAS, NOBODY GETS TO POLICE WHOSE TRAUMA WAS "ENOUGH" OR THE "RIGHT KIND" OF TRAUMA. Part of the TERF hatred of transgender women is a belief that because they didn't suffer sexism, they can never really be women or understand what it is to be a woman.  This comes down to believing that either a) the trauma of being TRAPPED IN THE WRONG BODY and forced into a gender presentation that is wrong for you is the WRONG KIND of gender-related trauma, or b) that it is NOT TRAUMATIC ENOUGH.  And it also says that the TERFs get to police what womanhood "really" is. Let's break this down using Joy's experience, and mine, okay?  Joy is transgender.  They started the podcast talking a little bit about her kids (born and raised when she was presenting as male according to her genitalia).  They always wanted her to tell them stories, and she had a real problem, because she was a good dad, and knew that she wasn't supposed to tell stories about depressing things or suicidal ideation.  She glosses over that a bit and moves on quickly, but she did say it: she apparently had some depression deep enough for suicidal ideation.  She spent a bit more time on the fact that because she was so dissociated from her body, she really didn't form many memories.  She had ONE happy childhood memory suitable for telling her kids: one time, she made a poptart, wrapped it in a towel, and went outside and ate it on a cold day.  THIS IS THE ONLY HAPPY MEMORY OF CHILDHOOD SHE HAS.  If that's NOT ENOUGH trauma, well, I don't know what would be.  Do you have to be raped to have "enough" trauma to count as a woman?  Do you have to actually attempt suicide, not just contemplate it? If it's just that it's not the right KIND of trauma, well.  Let's consider my experiences, shall we?  That icon up there, the woman in red with a flower choker and her face turned away from the camera, that's a picture of me, taken by my parents specifically so I would have a picture of me to use as an icon for fannish spaces, but I wouldn't have to show my face to minimize the possibility of my fannish and legal names being connected.  Anyway, my parents are awesome parents.  There was a minimum of gender-related stuff in my house growing up.  All three kids, me and my two brothers, learned to cook and regularly cooked meals.  Both parents shared the cooking.  All three of us kids shared equally in the cleaning and in the yardwork.  Etc., etc.  My school was on the I-5 corridor in Oregon.  While there are a LOT more Conservative Republicans on the West Coast than most people realize, they don't tend to congregate along the I-5 corridor, and my school had a minimum of gender bullshit and discrimination against women.  So did my college and seminary, and most of the places I've worked in my life have been either mostly women or extremely women-friendly.  And, as an aromantic asexual, I haven't really done much dating, and the three boyfriends I had when I was just figuring I was a "late bloomer" were genuinely nice guys, and not Nice GuysTM.  So while I know what most women go through at least at SOME point in their lives, and I've been exposed to as much media sexist BS as anyone, I have lived a life about as sheltered from sexism as any woman in the late 20th-early 21st century can.  If we're measuring womanhood with "have you faced enough sexism to really UNDERSTAND what we're up against," then I DON'T COUNT AS A WOMAN, EITHER.  And, like I said, TERFs are the ones trying to police who counts as REALLY LGBT (not queer, never queer!) so they'd have a problem with me on that axis, too.

And if it really is the kind of horrible sexism you face that determines who is a “woman” and who isn’t ... dude.  DUDE.  I got news for you!  Sexism manifests in different ways in different places!  Race impacts it!  So does class!  So does religion!  So does a TON of other things.  So a black woman’s experience of sexism is NOT the same as mine, and an Asian woman’s experience of sexism is different than either of ours.  It’s a really broad brush.  The only way you can say, categorically, that aaaaaaalllllllll the varieties of gender discrimination and trauma faced by assigned-female-at-birth people unites us as women but exclude assigned-male-at-birth-but-trans doesn’t is if you reduce us to our genitalia. To all the TERFs out there: NO.  YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL ME WHETHER OR NOT I'M A WOMAN, AND YOU DON'T GET TO TELL JOY LADIN OR ANY OTHER TRANSPERSON WHETHER OR NOT THEY'RE WOMEN, EITHER.

comments Comment? http://ift.tt/2nshUNh

[casgirlsam]

THIS THIS THIS ALL OF THIS

there are some of your points i want to add on, so bear with me

“It’s toxic masculinity to slap the -cest slapping on every-freakin’-thing and then claim you’re being ship-shamed because you actually gate-keeped against fans who really just appreciate the sibling bond and don’t need any -cest to appreciate how close Sam and Dean are and appreciate that bond [...] This should be also true of w*ncest fans and enthusiasts of the sibling bond because again, massive emotional component as common ground, but I feel like what’s happening is the more intense and virulent w*ncest fans are trying to draw such a hard line that if you aren’t into incest, there’s no space for you”

this is this absolute kicker. i JUST this morning got told that the gen pairing of sam and dean probably isn’t for me because i objected to genc*st. literally all i objected to was the name.

it’s supposed to be gen fic about their bond, but it’s not for me. that’s so depressingly exclusionary, that’s genuinely the first time someone in this fandom almost made me tear up over something hurtful they said to me. because how dare they tell me that something that’s not supposed to be incestuous NOT BE FOR ME.

and when i tried to defend my point?

no one specifically reached out to me and scared me off of it. hell, w*ncest the concept actually legit made me not watch the show until 2013 because i googled around and i’m that weirdo that reads fics from fandoms i’m not in yet just to get a feel for it and let’s just say this was pre-ao3 tag days. not fun.

i just gave up one day and said “screw it”. they shouldn’t dictate what i enjoy just because i don’t want *ncest in my damn bro bond experience.

and they say d*stiel fans hate their bro bond but i legit can’t read fics where sam isn’t involved or where one of the bros is being a complete ass to the other or their partner (for example there was a canon-verse sabriel fic where dean yells at mute gabe to talk and is constantly mad about it and dean would never do that to a trauma-induced mute person).

hell, i just discovered today when i joined the fandom that i had reblogged a post from nancy talking about how sam wasn’t going to make a deal with crowley to save dean from being a demon, he was going to fight tooth and nail to save him. i clearly care.

“and here’s the ironic part: virulently anti-destiel w*ncest fans and ship shamey non-shippers slapped D*stiel with a default assumption that it’s all about fapping material and two dudes getting it on and you just want to make spn into a porno”

what’s funny is that i and others like me can’t write anything above a T-rating because we aren’t comfortable doing that.

also it’s 2018, not 2000. we all have access to internet which means we have access to porn. if i wanted to watch to hot guys have sex, i would just watch that ffs. this talking point is so old, i was a teen when i saw it for the first time and i’m in my 30s now.

ugh. i need to go wash this off with some fic. preferably one with their bond that isn’t slapped with a freaking -cest label.

Okay, about this “g*ncest” thing that just cropped up which makes me feel like I splintered back to the year 2006 and aren’t we over this by now…what that is is a bona fide example of toxic masculinity attitudes at work and being valorized by a small number of fans, mostly female.

Keep reading

[2lazy-2die]

I wish I didn't, because I don't want to be angry at other girls and women, but it really makes me angry when I see posts about attraction to men (I'm talking about bi and het radfems now but mostly bi radfems cos they have some choice so it's harder for me to understand them), like this boy is cute I would like to be with him or sleep with him yada yada yada, all I hear is "I love dick" , I'm sorry. Even if I find some guy physically attractive or interesting I am able to get him out of my head quickly cos I know he's most certainly shit. Am I biased? Maybe. Even in that short while when I'm thinking about him I couldn't praise him in a post, I just hate men appreciation in ahy shape or form. I'm sorry. I just don't get how can you write an essay on how much men suck and their unability to love women like women love them and then write a post about this certain boy and how cute he is and how you would like to be with him or have sex with him. I just don't get it. I can't separate these feelings. (I don't have the same problem with male-female friendship, also women don't praise their male friends like they praise men they want to love/fuck but that's obvious). I remember some radfems saying that even if you're not involved in romantic/sexual relationship with a man, you still have men in your life that are close to you, like fathers, brothers etc. But personally I've never had any man in my life that I would consider close to me and that includes men from my family. So maybe it's easier for me cos I've never had ANY important bond with a male in my life, it's easier for me to cut off men and it's harder for me to understand how can you separate the loathing for males from feelings for specific men you want to love/fuck. I will never understand it. I don't get it now, I didn't get it even when I was like 13-14 and my female friend was already saying that I "really hate men" to her male friend, while I was just showing lack of interest in boys and my lack of understanding how girls can be so dedicated to boys. I didn't even speak about feminism back then (although I was already interested in it). People have assumed I'm somehow handicapped because I was never close to any male in my life. I don't get it lol. That's also one of the reasons why I appreciate lesbian radfems' rhetoric so much. They're so unapologetic towards men and I love it while almost every bi radfem is too soft in my eyes, unless she's men exclusionary. I'm sorry if I offended someone. I feel isolated. Eh...

[amazingviralinfo]

Lena Dunham is doing her part for trans rights. But as usual, when it comes to theGirls creator, not everyone is happy about it.

Dunham was waiting for a flight at John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York City early Thursday morning, when she happened to overhear two female attendants criticizing transgender children, calling them “gross.” Realizing that this kind of language could negatively impact trans kids, Dunham quickly turned to Twitter to criticize the attendants.

“At this moment in history we should be teaching our employees about love and inclusivity @AmericanAir,” Dunham wrote. “That was worst part of this night.”

Not gonna call out the airline who delayed cuz shit happens BUT I did just overhear 2 @AmericanAir attendants having a transphobic talk.

— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) August 3, 2017

At this moment in history we should be teaching our employees about love and inclusivity @AmericanAir. That was worst part of this night.

— Lena Dunham (@lenadunham) August 3, 2017

“I heard two female attendants walking talking about how trans kids are a trend they’d never accept a trans child and transness is gross,” Dunham wrote. “I think it reflects badly on uniformed employees of your company to have that kind of dialogue going on.”

Dunham insisted that American Airlines has a responsibility to make sure its employees are behaving in appropriate ways at all times. She warned the airline that trans kids could be negatively impacted by transphobic talking points overheard from employees.

“What if a trans teen was walking behind them?” she continued. “Awareness starts at home but jobs can set standards of practice.”

American Airlines replied to her tweet about the incident and told her to send them a direct message. Fox News alleges that the airline is currently “unable to substantiate” Dunham’s report, but is continuing to investigate the complaint.

But not everyone is taking Dunham’s side. Many are using the opportunity to criticize Dunham, defending the attendants’ opinion and arguing in support of their “freedom of speech.”

Ugh I hate transphobia but Lena Dunham is so awful it makes me want to encourage those attendants just to piss her off. #nooneputyouincharge https://t.co/ME1DG8tCnm

— Kate Phillips (@phillipskr) August 3, 2017

Lena Dunham, millionaire scourge of working-class women: https://t.co/Is8z2Z8QRD

— Kurt Loder (@kurt_loder) August 3, 2017

My question would be "don't those 2 women have the right to own opinion and freedom of speech"? She is a freak show on legs!

— MamaLeigh (@Leigh_2014) August 3, 2017

Whatever would we do without stalwart heroes like Lena Dunham and her vigilant Thought Police Force?

— Jeff Stockwell (@stockwell) August 4, 2017

Some Twitter users are harassing Dunham, telling her to commit suicide. Others are attempting to upset her by using disparaging terms that target transgender people.

the world would be a better place if you were to kill yourself

— benjamin nabavian (@btopz) August 4, 2017

Why were you eavesdropping?I guess you will feel pretty good about getting them fired.Teaching a child to be a transgender is child abuse.

— Dan Parks (@ThisIsDanParks) August 4, 2017

Fuck trannies, no one wants them on their flight

— Steve Davis (@Meme_Maniacs) August 4, 2017

@lenadunham trannies have mental disorders. They must hate themselves just as much as your parents have to hate you.

— Deplorable (@DevereauxPerona) August 4, 2017

Oh good LORD! They have a right to their opinions and–wait for it–free speech rights. Go take a flying leap. #SJW #Trannies

— P. Bond (@Peggitha) August 4, 2017

Transgender-exclusionary radical feminists also hopped on the incident, both criticizing Dunham and defending anti-transgender rhetoric.

Woke thought police.https://t.co/Ubv83M6Jcn

— GenderCriticalDad (@dad_gc) August 4, 2017

Good news is that the article has 4700 comments and it looks like at least 95% are against Dunham & trans ideology. Peak Trans has arrived.

— vestigia3 (@vestigia33) August 4, 2017

Next up: people like Dunham will monitor our facial expressions and report us for having transphobic thoughts.

— JS Mill XX #resist (@Shy_Survivor) August 4, 2017

Oh my God, just oh my God. People getting in trouble at work for saying that trans kids are a trend! Which is true! Arg.

— LadyMolly (@LadyMolly736) August 4, 2017

Meanwhile, transgender activists have defended Dunham. They believe the internet is more caught up in attacking the writer and actor than actually supporting transgender hate speech.

"Man, I hate anti-trans talk but I hate Lena Dunham more" has been a popular trend on twitter this week. https://t.co/ZWnl9m63FF

— erin mccann (@mccanner) August 4, 2017

Celebrity hate-magnets aside, if I owned an airline I wouldn't want my uniformed employees trash-talking children, but maybe that's just me. https://t.co/eWl0JXhhxb

— Patrick LaForge (@palafo) August 4, 2017

Lena Dunham texting about transphobia is worthy of more hate than Trumpocalypse. Riiiiiiight. https://t.co/aDOIojpC4V

— TheRealOrchid (@TheRealOrchid) August 4, 2017

loving the fact that @lenadunham is standing up against transphobia. I'm not trans but discrimination and prejudice divide us too much. Stop

— Hannah Diviney (@HDiviney) August 3, 2017

Dunham is no stranger to controversy. In January, shefaced backlash after depicting President Donald Trump as a father figure,and herinterview with Amy Schumer for Lenny was panned for allegedly trivializing feminist issues. Dunham’s HBO seriesGirls has alsopreviously been criticized for transphobia as well, with Dunham using the term “tranny” as a punchline.

H/T the Wrap

[anautisticdragon-blog]

“It’s ‘im wot did it officer, that bluddy dragon!”

An Autistic Dragon?

It's interesting, innit? Why an autistic dragon? I wanted to write a post about the title of my blog for... a good many reasons. Catharsis is amongst them, I felt like writing something very personal about myself, and it's a little apropos of kerfuffly doings of late. Drama, dogma, & dragons. What have I learned? I can't say that neurotypicals make for particularly convincing dragons, that's for certain. I believed that one area where I might be able to bond with an NT is over dragons, so that's where I began to look for one that might be possessed of a wee bit more self awareness than I'm used to witnessing from NTs. What it did was help to solidify my emotional connection with dragons, and to add further detail to those thoughts. Why is a dragon a dragon? Why do dragons do what dragons do? Why are NTs drawn to them for all the wrong reasons? And is that what gave rise to the ridiculous parody of dragons in contemporary NT-focused media? These are fun questions! Invigorating, even. I want to talk about them! I like questions! I'm not even going to draw your own conclusions for you, either. I just want to ask more questions. So why does a dragon, dragon? In other words, why does a dragon do the things it does? So let's look at that, eh? Can we say that dragons, in general, are closer to us on the sapience scale than the majority of animals? If so, why would such a creature spend their life hiding in a cave? You see, if the dragon was an NT I'm quite certain they'd be attending balls and haute couture shindigs. They're not, though, are they? The dragon is portrayed as being uncertain around humans, unsure, and perhaps even a little afraid despite their immense power. Can we blame them? How many dragons have had to put up with a bunch of scruffy brigands bursting into their lair and attempting to kill them for their hoard under the manufactured pretence of heroism? Humans are greedy, after all. So if a dragon claims possession over desirable shiny wot them rich people might like, well, it's only fair to spread some rumours about the dragon's villainy, eh? The dragon isn't like 'us,' you see, so the people aren't going to bother questioning these rumours, it's more than likely true that the dragon is doing these things "Right bluddy suspect if you ask me, 'iding owt int' cave up there. I mean, woss 'e up to then, eh? Plannin' our bloomin' demise if you ask me! I says we kill 'em 'fore 'e kills us!" Now replace dragon with Muslims. If you're especially alt-right inclined and you believe in white genocide, then you'll want to be replacing dragon with Jews. Yeah. An NT dragon is sort of like an honest politician. It may actually exist, but it's so rare that the chances of us ever finding one are so improbable that we might as well deem it statistically impossible. You see, even if they experience prejudice, people on the neurotypical spectrum tend to turn around and hate other people just as much. Trans-exclusionary feminists, gay people turning against transgender people, et cetera. And when they haven't even experienced a whit of prejudice? Not a modicum? Not even a tiny, wee amount? That's what brings about the alt-right. You see, the fellow who fancied himself as a dragon was like that. Straight, white, cis-gendered, of able body and mind, quite well off, and without a care in the world. This sorry bastard genuinely believes that the pushback against his own prejudices against the 'lesser tribes' is a prejudice in and of itself. He actually believes he's experienced prejudice. I had to have a bit of a giggle. When I asked this fellow what he liked about dragons? It was that they were powerful, of course. An apex predator. It's funny because that's not really what dragons are, are they? Often, they're brought low by a group of four humans in silly attire, as they have so little fight left in them. I think that dragons are as tired of a world so chock-full of parasites as I am. It's easy to just give up. I wouldn't be surprised if that's how every NT views dragons. It explains how we went from Dragonheart and Flight of Dragons to Skyrim and Game of Thrones, doesn't it? And the less they're able to be articulate, soft spoken, and empathetic the better. Why else amputate a dragon's forelegs? Remove her hands and she can't emote any longer, easier to portray her as an engine of sheer destruction then. I think that's why we have this ridiculous parody of dragons now, right? In Skyrim, Game of Thrones, and others. It's because of this perception of dragons that NTs have, that they're only appreciated for their power. Initially, religion had the NTs hate dragons as instruments of the devil so the niche of non-NT spectrum people who enjoyed them didn't have to worry, but as religion wanes they're entering into the NT consciousness. S'funny really because the Celtic peoples (hello, I'm from Cymru!) loved dragons. They believed that they were innately lovely, wonderful, and kind. Until Christianity twisted that. Not 'us' you see. So dragons continue to be altered to be more applicable to what the NT crowd wants of them, either as allies or as enemies. Dragons are creatures of power; Alien, cold, and vile. That's what the NT acquaintance liked about them, and what he thought was worth emulating. That's not a dragon, silly. That's another toxic construct of the 'alpha' philosophy. I'm 'an' autistic dragon as I'm sure there are other otherkin out there who're not on the neurotypical spectrum who'd be fully as able as I to be at least a little bit authentically dragon, as they'd understand what makes for a dragon. A dragon is a non-human being, old as the hills, and as wise as so much time has allowed them to be. They're gentle, kind, thoughtful, and poetic, but also tragic in how they're demonised just for being different. Because seriously, for every group of adventurers that bursts into their lairs with claims of wrongdoing, I'd want to see the bloody evidence. These fantasy worlds need police departments. I would be a dragon detective! I want to write a series of stories about being a 'Fantastic Crimes Division' detective now, the kind of person who investigates the kinds of things that people claim dragons do. God damn I want this to exist. What was I talking about? Oh. Right. Neurotypicals aren't convincing dragons as they're effectively the antithesis thereof. Their mindset is contrary to what a dragon is, after all. That's why I'm going to stick to autistic otherkin from now on, they get it. An autistic dragon because I've never seen an NT one.