#presumably much of society feels the same

[a-humble-waffle]

okay question

if you could reblog that'd be great

[hella1975]

would you like to talk about how bad the mha ending was hella

as much as i would love to give like. a comprehensive response i genuinely dont think i can get my words together just yet without it being a constant unintelligble stream of 'AND ANOTHER THING-' and bc it's become quite torn in the fandom on if the chapter was good or bad i want like. an actual coherent response here. so i will reblog this if/when i can word it but know IM NOT FUCKING HAPPY

[ohcorny]

i reread all of chobits recently as insp for my next TT book and every time i think about some aspect of it all i want to do is rip it open and tear it apart and go "why?". it brings up so many concepts and scenarios within the premise of "what if computers looked like pretty girls" but it doesn't want to commit to saying anything about it or take its own world seriously.

i have a lot to say about chobits. arguably i have more to say about chobits than even chobits wants to say about chobits.

chobits is about sex except it isn't about sex at all. chi's power switch is in her vagina. we're shown images of chi doing sexy things, she gets tricked into doing a strip tease, and two separate men try to finger her and she does her Do Not Touch Me There magic powers thing, and we eventually learn every time she resets from the power button, her memories are erased, so you can't have sex with her without deleting her.

but we never unpack why her reset button is in her vagina, or why it's so important that nobody can ever touch her, or why people's personal computers were built with vaginas in the first place (we never have it confirmed that all persocoms have them, but that two separate men try to touch her there imply it's expected). why do the personal computers shaped like women have vaginas if not to fuck them. as a product, it is expected that you will fuck them*.

*i assume, because the comic never says so!

the man who invented persocoms is the same person who built chi and her sister, and he built them to be daughters for his wife. he put the reset button in chi's vagina. we never find out why. we never get a HINT of why. he built the chobits so they could feel and fall in love, but also built them so they could never fuck. you can extrapolate a reason why a man might build his daughter-androids that way, but the series itself never touches it, and never makes any sort of point about it. it's just presented as an immutable fact that chi can't fuck without it deleting her, as if it was born of happenstance and not a person's choice.

what does that actually say about anything? what is it trying to say about sex? is it about the commodification of female bodies, how once they're used up sexually they're worthless? that if you can't love somebody without fucking them, what good is your love? that love without sex is okay (but also a huge burden and sacrifice a man must accept for the sake of someone else's happiness?)

what does it want to say! chobits is about sex, but it doesn't want to commit to any specific message about sex.

and that's just ONE issue i have with it. there are so many things chobits wants to be about but won't say anything about. it wants to be about the persocoms replacing human connections, we constantly get told 'gee people hang out with persocoms a lot', chitose publishes a whole inexplicable book series about people preferring persocomes to humans. it's to the degree that a prominent character's husband gets So wrapped up in (presumably) fucking his android that he locks his actual wife out of the house, having just straight up forgotten she exists. we don't have anything to say about it though. she falls in love with a new man. the people who hang out with their persocoms too much are all background characters in crowds. we never look at how the rise in persocoms has affected society as a whole.

it wants to be about grief, in the story about the man who marries a persocom and has to watch her slowly degrade until she can't remember him anymore, or the kid whose older sister died and he tried to replace her with a persocom who he dresses up/treats as a maid and lives alone with despite being omega orphaned and 11 years old. but then it's fine. the man who married a persocom gets in a relationship with a high school girl 20 years younger than him (CLAMP!). it's fine! the boy who tried to replace his older sister just accepts that the persocom replacement won't replace her. still treats/dresses her up like a maid and lives alone. is she his legal guardian. i don't know. don't worry about it.

and it wants to be about women, because everything about the story is about women, all the persocoms are women, all the tragedies are wrapped up in the death of a woman, or a woman's heartbreak, or a woman's feelings. but it has fucking nothing to say about women beside look how pretty they are. my boobs are E cup, sempai :) teehee

it makes me insane.

friend @amphiaria put it best as "Unfortunately the story is uninterested in itself" and i can never forgive it for being so aesthetically good, giving us the best design for an android (the ear things are Perfect) and then being So Fucking Bad.

in conclusion:

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim's wife coming home for good from the army(that's how her and Tim met) and surprises him at the station and meets the rookies who couldn't believe the hardass Tim bradford was such a softie for someone, let alone married -you did very good on my last request thought I'd give you my other one I had in my notes

for good? - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: here you go pookie <3 and thank you so much! i had a really fun time writing this

word count: 1.5k

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The plane ride was tortuous, your leg bounced up and down uncontrollably waiting for your flight to end so you could finally see Tim. 

You had been deployed for nearly two years, and it was hard. Your contract had finally ended, you neglected to tell Tim you had not re-signed it. You had contacted Wade and formed a plan with him to assure everything would go to plan and stay a surprise.

Tim was used to you not calling everyday knowing how busy you were so that was already taken care of, god how you missed Tim. The last several months you knew you were retiring, it was killing you to not share it with Tim but you wanted to be face to face with him, to see the surprise on his face, to be able to hug him tight and tell him you were never leaving again.

As soon as the plane landed you were on your feet reaching for your carry on, you were the first to unboard. Time felt as if it slowed, you looked around and saw families rushing for their flights, and people sitting around or nodding off waiting for their gates to be called. You had almost forgotten what a civilized society looked like, constantly being cooped up on base with people who wear the same clothes, walk, talk, and breathe the same way. 

Your eyes became blurry, the image of everything you’ve missed suddenly hitting you. All of the quiet late night talks you didn't get to have, all of Tim’s milestones you weren't there to cheer him on for, nothing had paused when you left, and it was foolish for you to think they would but a small part of you hoped. Your heart ached but you continued your walk to baggage claim, impatiently waited for your bags to finally come into sight on the conveyor belt. 

The car ride to the station had been long, although you were jetlagged, the excitement of finally seeing Tim was more than enough to keep your body awake. The moment you saw the station it felt like your heart had skipped a beat, the uber driver dropped you off at the main entrance and you walked in suitcases and duffle bags in hand. 

“Hello! Can I help you?”  the sweet front dusk lady asked you with a big smile, “Yes, i'm here to see Sargent, Wade Grey.” you returned the welcoming smile. She made a call, presumably to Wade and then allowed you to head up to his office.

“(Y/n)!” Wade greeted as you stepped your heavy boots into his office, “It feels like I haven't seen you in forever!” he walked over and took your mountains of bags off your shoulders and hands before giving you a warm hug. “It has been forever, Sir” you stated, formalities still ingrained in your head “Oh come on, you don’t have to call me ‘Sir,’ just Wade (y/n)” he laughed, you shook your head with a laugh accompanying his. 

Everyone welcomed you home with open arms, helping you with putting up banners and blowing up balloons, putting confetti everywhere, making the room very loud and obvious that something big was happening. Wade had made Tim go on a patrol run, making up some excuse that he needed Tim to check out an abandoned warehouse that was possibly housing drug addicts. Clearly that was a lie, Wade knew damn well no suspicious activity was going on at that warehouse but he knew it would give the precinct time to set up your welcome home party. 

Tim was very annoyed when he realized there was nothing going on at the abandoned warehouse, it was actually quite clean. Tim sighed and radioed that everything was clear and he was making his way back to the station, on his drive back he had noticed it had been a good while since he heard from you and made a mental note to try and call you later after his shift. 

The moment everyone heard Tim’s radio response stating he was coming back to the station, your nerves shot up, you had missed him so much it was killing you. It felt like your soul was constricting and struggling to wait for its other half to be connected to it again, as you waited, you noticed a few new people appear. They looked slightly confused at what exactly Wade had wanted when he radioed them to come back to the station for an important meeting, “Did we walk into the right building?” Nolan asked looking around comically, you had pointed him out immediately from the way he walked in. 

Tim had told you about the rookies a couple of years ago when they first came in, Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. He could not stand Nolan and was glad to not have him as his “boot,” while overseas Tim had called you abnormally early telling you about Jackson and although you had not met him, you heart broke for what he could’ve been. You wished you were home to comfort Tim, and you would’ve gone AWOL just to hug Tim if he hadn’t made you promise you'd stay on base.

Now, Lucy, you had felt bad for Lucy because you knew that she was going to fall victim to all the ‘Tim-Tests’ and have to put up with all of Tim’s stern glances and lack of sense of humor. Tim had talked about Lucy quite a few time’s on calls, he told you about what she had gone through and you knew she was going to be an exceptional cop with how brave she stayed during her time in captivity.

Following Nolan’s confusion was who you assumed was his rookie, you had not been told about her yet but she looked sweet and smiled when she saw you in uniform and the sign above your head that announced “im home.” The young rookie had hit the arm of the other rookie, who Tim had mentioned, Aaron Thorsen. You knew the name, and Tim had expressed his concern for Aaron joining the team.

“You must be the rookie’s Tim told me about!” you grinned widely, they all looked at you surprised and even slightly confused “im (y/n), Tim’s wife! Nice to finally meet you guys” you continued with quiet amusement as they were all left with mouths agape. 

“Tim’s wife? The grump was able to get a wife?” the young rookie had asked, looking at you. A small laugh left your body, you knew he wasn’t a big angel at work but you never thought he was that bad to get nicknamed ‘the grump.” 

All of them came up to you, introducing themselves and making small remarks at how different you were from Tim, you were sunshine compared to him. That’s what they said at least.

While you all were talking you heard the familiar voice you have waited so long to hear in person, “What happened? What are you guys all doing here?” Tim questioned fast, wondering why so many colors were blowing up in his face. “That’s no way to talk to your colleagues is it, honey.” your snarky remark nearly made him stop breathing, he looked at you, taking your form in. His eyes were wide and teary “(y/n)?” he croaked out, voice breaking. “Im home” you exclaimed with the same croak to your voice, as if time around you two stood still he ran towards you, sweeping you off your feet as he hugged you. “You’re home? I thought you weren’t getting home till next week? What changed?” He had a million questions and you could only answer him one at a time.

“Tim, Baby, I'm home for good. I didn’t re-sign.” you whispered softly, he looked at you like you had personally created the entire milky way right in front of him. “You’re home. Forever?” his knees almost buckled at the thought of being able to wake up next you everyday for the rest of your lives.

You nodded your head and hugged him tighter, he held you like you were the only woman to ever exist. He silently thanked whoever listened that you were home and safe in his arms.

Once you two were done having your moment, he introduced you to the new recruits, and Angela gave you a hug welcoming you home and telling you and Tim, you all had to go on a double date. You were still shocked she had married a lawyer and now had two children. 

You sat there with Tim, taking in your environment and enjoying the loud laughter and stories on what Tim did for Lucy’s ‘Tim-Tests’, as you sat listening to the god awful stories, you were at peace, sitting around with the people who kept your husband up and safe while you were away.

You had never been happier and you were glad to be able to feel this with Tim right by your side.

[kiefbowl]

one of my lil feminist pet peeves is this sort of pervasive but unspecific idea of a sort of historical female stupor. it's unspecific because it's so assumed and presumed that people aren't even aware they believe it enough to question it, and our historical record pretty much confirms it by the fact that female history is largely ignored and undervalued to be archived by contemporaries, and then that lack is largely reconstructed and interpreted by men in the future. i.e. - women and their contributions to society are erased. but they surely existed, they surely had great impact, even in the worst of female subjugation.

"women wouldn't have talked like that, thought like that, behaved like that" has little and less proof so much of the time. I'm not sure why I, a human woman, would be so different than a human woman 500 years ago. Or even 1,000 years ago. Or more. If I can perceive the illogical fallacies of my modern day society, why would a woman before me be incapable? If I can feel stymied and undervalued, why wouldn't that be the same for other women before me? I just don't like entertaining even for a moment the sort of male fantasy that women turn off when men leave the room, and only have the thoughts and beliefs as their men allow them to have. I would rather imagine the most anachronistic female fantasy possible, because even if I would be wrong, I think I would be closer to the truth than the non-existent, compliant, passive, dullards men want us all to believe all women were prior to our most accessible shared history. It was always our grandmothers "starting to get up to trouble" - but of course never their grandmothers. I just don't believe that. I don't care, I just don't believe it! I think my great great grandmothers were loud mouthed, angry, and smart enough. I certainly didn't inherit this personality and big brain just from my catholic school education and my centrist parents. Certainly if I'm human, they all were, too.

I would much rather believe women had transgressive and revolutionary thoughts, thoughts dangerous to men, all the time in every era and corner of the globe at every level of society, and those thoughts systematically scrubbed and denied then think for a moment women believed the world was always right and just to them.

[conflictofthemind]

Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"

Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes

I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.

In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.

Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.

The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).

That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.

Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.

Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.

Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.

I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.

But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.

He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.

It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.

"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".

[essektheylyss]

I do find it really interesting and almost sad that Ashton sees the titan turned into a home as a monument to hubris, particularly given Ashton's connection to earth primordials.

On one hand, there is the obvious; that the people living in that rock are well aware of its history and power, because this happened well within living memory. Perhaps some of them are laboring under a denial that it could happen again, but overall, Vasselheim of all places does tend, even sometimes to extremes, to remember—it responds quickly and efficiently to the sudden rise of its dead, harbors grudges still toward arcane magic for wizards' role in the onset of the Calamity, and does keep extensive records of history, even historical information that perhaps would be easier to contain if it was altogether destroyed.

So the fact that people have made homes in this titan's form feels far more like both the spite and celebration of having survived yet another horror than any declaration of hubristic supremacy. And on a more basic level, Exandria as an explicitly post-apocalyptic world simply must choose to continue to live, again and again, in the ruins of the circumstances that history has handed them. Societies continue to grow on the Shattered Teeth in spite of its dangers; Xhorhas is full of people living in ruins not of their making, and who still stumble upon horrors left behind that they must and do contend with; the Ashari themselves are built around this principle, of managing the reality of a world with connections to much more inhospitable planes.

But on a more personal level, Ashton has a piece of an earth titan within himself, yet there is a fear within his comments—that perhaps the titan will wake again. That if it returned, it would not be kind. And I wonder: how does that fear manifest for himself?

It's possible that Ashton feels already as though they've stolen (regardless of how voluntary it was) a power that could be taken back. They've already levied the charge of hubris against themself. They seem, of course, to relish their abilities and increasing power, but at the same time, they have exhausted themself to use it. Is there any part of them that still fears that something larger than them will awaken and take back what's theirs? Do they wonder if they deserve the power they now wield, and do they simply presume that one day someone who sees them the way they now see the gods will balance the scales in turn?

Ashton suggests that the footage of Aeor did make the gods more relatable in his eyes, more personable—perhaps he saw himself in their initial giddy reclamation of power, and loathed it in them because he loathes it in himself. And there are numerous others weighing in on the gods, but very few who would weigh in on Ashton himself and thereby push back against any idea of him as unworthy of life while he wields the power he's gained.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

The problem with discussions about Henry Crawford is that there are two different questions being asked at the same time: 1) Can Fanny reform Henry? and 2) Can Henry reform?

Austen answers negatively to the first one, but I'd argue she's very ambivalent in her answer to the second.

Austen is not in the habit of "punishing" her villains; none of them are struck by accidents of fortune or anything the like, but we commonly perceive the downgrade between what they could have had and what they end up having. Edward Ferrars is an infinitely preferrable husband to Robert Ferrars, but Lucy Steele never seems to become aware of that fact. Isabella tries to get Captain Tilney over James Morland. Mr. Elliot is not crying by the corners over the fact that he lost Anne Elliot. Even Willoughby's regret is not about Marianne's actual goodness, but his personal convenience. Austen's "villains" as a rule are morally stupid people.

When Aristotle says that no one can be good who is stupid, he doesn't have in mind things like being good at Math or being well read or quick-witted; he's thinking of a certain intuition, clear-sightedness about what is good, what contributes to human flourishing, and this seems to be a strong component of what Austen calls sense. Sense is almost convertible (if not completely) with prudence, and prudence is a rather intuitive virtue, as it regulates the when, the how, the how much, etc of the other moral virtues. (and there goes my first thesis topic that I never did!).

In that way it is interesting that only 4 characters are said to possess sense in Mansfield Park: Edmund, Fanny, Henry, and Tom (and Tom doesn't even fully count, because his is expressed negatively: instead of having sense, he doesn't lack it). Here are the Henry instances:

"He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points." "Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name; but when he talked of her having such a steadiness and regularity of conduct, such a high notion of honour, and such an observance of decorum as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well principled and religious." "That punishment, the public punishment of disgrace, should in a just measure attend his share of the offence is, we know, not one of the barriers which society gives to virtue. In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished; but without presuming to look forward to a juster appointment hereafter, we may fairly consider a man of sense, like Henry Crawford, to be providing for himself no small portion of vexation and regret: vexation that must rise sometimes to self-reproach, and regret to wretchedness, in having so requited hospitality, so injured family peace, so forfeited his best, most estimable, and endeared acquaintance, and so lost the woman whom he had rationally as well as passionately loved."

(I'm not counting the one time Edmund calls him a man of sense, and the one time Sir Thomas does the same, for obvious contextual reasons).

It's not only interesting that he is the only rake to be called a man of sense by the narrator (Mrs. Smith calling Mr. Elliot a man of sense in Persuasion is clearly not meant to be taken straight), but that it is always specifically tied to moral perceptiveness; he was morally perceptive enough to know he shouldn't have played the way he did, and he chose to ignore it. He perceives Fanny's moral worth, and it is the core reason why he wants to marry her.* He also perceives William's moral worth as something both good and desirable:

"To Henry Crawford they gave a different feeling. He longed to have been at sea, and seen and done and suffered as much. His heart was warmed, his fancy fired, and he felt the highest respect for a lad who, before he was twenty, had gone through such bodily hardships and given such proofs of mind. The glory of heroism, of usefulness, of exertion, of endurance, made his own habits of selfish indulgence appear in shameful contrast; and he wished he had been a William Price, distinguishing himself and working his way to fortune and consequence with so much self-respect and happy ardour, instead of what he was!"

Both here and at the end of the novel, Henry's moral perceptiveness leads to remorse for his own moral wrongdoings. Compare this to Willoughby's regret over Marianne:

"Willoughby could not hear of her marriage without a pang; and his punishment was soon afterwards complete in the voluntary forgiveness of Mrs. Smith, who, by stating his marriage with a woman of character, as the source of her clemency, gave him reason for believing that had he behaved with honour towards Marianne, he might at once have been happy and rich. That his repentance of misconduct, which thus brought its own punishment, was sincere, need not be doubted;—nor that he long thought of Colonel Brandon with envy, and of Marianne with regret. But that he was for ever inconsolable, that he fled from society, or contracted an habitual gloom of temper, or died of a broken heart, must not be depended on—for he did neither. He lived to exert, and frequently to enjoy himself. His wife was not always out of humour, nor his home always uncomfortable; and in his breed of horses and dogs, and in sporting of every kind, he found no inconsiderable degree of domestic felicity."

This sense/moral perceptiveness of Henry Crawford, and his experiencing remorse for his own wrongdoings sets him apart from the other Austen rakes. He's also not a drinker or a gambler; he does take at least minimal care of Everingham ("Everingham could not do without him in the beginning of September. He went for a fortnight") and did some modifications to it as soon as he got it. The same way Darcy's character is revealed as we see Pemberley, so the inflexion point of Henry's redemption attempt is his trying to become a better master of his estate:

For her approbation, the particular reason of his going into Norfolk at all, at this unusual time of year, was given. It had been real business, relative to the renewal of a lease in which the welfare of a large and—he believed—industrious family was at stake. He had suspected his agent of some underhand dealing; of meaning to bias him against the deserving; and he had determined to go himself, and thoroughly investigate the merits of the case. He had gone, had done even more good than he had foreseen, had been useful to more than his first plan had comprehended, and was now able to congratulate himself upon it, and to feel that in performing a duty, he had secured agreeable recollections for his own mind. He had introduced himself to some tenants whom he had never seen before; he had begun making acquaintance with cottages whose very existence, though on his own estate, had been hitherto unknown to him. This was aimed, and well aimed, at Fanny. It was pleasing to hear him speak so properly; here he had been acting as he ought to do. To be the friend of the poor and the oppressed! Nothing could be more grateful to her; and she was on the point of giving him an approving look, when it was all frightened off by his adding a something too pointed of his hoping soon to have an assistant, a friend, a guide in every plan of utility or charity for Everingham: a somebody that would make Everingham and all about it a dearer object than it had ever been yet. She turned away, and wished he would not say such things. She was willing to allow he might have more good qualities than she had been wont to suppose. She began to feel the possibility of his turning out well at last; but he was and must ever be completely unsuited to her, and ought not to think of her.

I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon. I am not satisfied about Maddison. I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else. I must come to an understanding with him. I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property. I was not explicit enough with him before. The mischief such a man does on an estate, both as to the credit of his employer and the welfare of the poor, is inconceivable. I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from. Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace me; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already. Would it not be worse than simple? Shall I go? Do you advise it?” “I advise! You know very well what is right.” “Yes. When you give me your opinion, I always know what is right. Your judgment is my rule of right.” “Oh, no! do not say so. We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.

This is even more hammered in by the narrator: "Had he done as he intended, and as he knew he ought, by going down to Everingham after his return from Portsmouth, he might have been deciding his own happy destiny."

All these elements seem to point towards his being redeemable; he almost managed it! If only he'd gone to Everingham instead of London, catastrophic failure would have been averted! And yet at the same time we are told this:

Henry Crawford, ruined by early independence and bad domestic example, indulged in the freaks of a cold-blooded vanity a little too long. Once it had, by an opening undesigned and unmerited, led him into the way of happiness. Could he have been satisfied with the conquest of one amiable woman’s affections, could he have found sufficient exultation in overcoming the reluctance, in working himself into the esteem and tenderness of Fanny Price, there would have been every probability of success and felicity for him. His affection had already done something. Her influence over him had already given him some influence over her. Would he have deserved more, there can be no doubt that more would have been obtained, especially when that marriage had taken place, which would have given him the assistance of her conscience in subduing her first inclination, and brought them very often together. Would he have persevered, and uprightly, Fanny must have been his reward, and a reward very voluntarily bestowed, within a reasonable period from Edmund’s marrying Mary.

Ruined by early independence and bad domestic example. Mansfield Park is in a way a rather pessimist novel: it is a novel about education, and once your education has "set", your character is fixed, and your fate determined. Much of Maria and Julia's disgrace was also directly caused by their upbringing in a household where all importance was given to superficial qualities, and very little effective affection was shared; one can compare the restrained calm of Mansfield as a reflection of Sir Thomas' own unwillingness to see reality and give himself some discomfort in making others comfortable, with the bustle of the Musgrove household, and connect the dots to what makes the relationship between sisters Maria and Julia so different from the one between Louisa and Henrietta in similar situations.

In the end, it's a bit of a Schröedinger's cat situation. Can Henry reform? Yes, says Austen, he has the qualities needed for moral improvement, but no, his upbringing ruined him, and his character is fixed.

While this idea is the strongest in MP, it is present one way or another in all Austen's novels. Characters reforming is usually more about one specific quality or moral tone not being fine tuned than proper metanoia. Darcy was taught to do right, and did right; what he needed was to add proper humility and kindness to his practice. There is an exception, though, the one thing Charlotte Brontë and Jane Austen agree upon: a close brush with death is the best recipe for moral cure in the otherwise incurable.

Maybe the key is to wish Henry a good pneumonia, or a strong horsefall-induced concussion.

_____________

*On a side note, it's interesting that before he proposes, he considers how attached Fanny is to Mansfield, as undeserving as he thinks the Bertrams to be of her affection, and even draws a plan that contemplates giving her pleasure that way too: "I will not take her from Northamptonshire. I shall let Everingham, and rent a place in this neighbourhood; perhaps Stanwix Lodge."

[kooldewd123]

The scene of the Animorphs voting whether or not to make David one of them might be one of the best character moments in the entire series. You can read into everyone's actions in this scene so well.

Marco sees "the bright, clear line." David hasn't seen any of them yet. He doesn't know anything. Just giving him up to the Yeerks is incredibly cruel, but it's the safest option. At the same time, how much of this is just his personal feelings? He's the only one who dissents on the basis of personality. He doesn't really like the way David acts, but is that enough reason for concern or is he just writing him off because he can't stand being around him?

Cassie is eager to go for it. She had just taken a massively risky leap of faith with Aftran, and it had actually paid off. And if trusting a Yeerk could lead to good things, surely trusting a human would turn out even better. She's already seeing the big picture: maybe David is the first of many. Maybe they could extend their force even more and give themselves the opportunity to make a bigger difference.

Rachel starts out against it. Despite their frequent disagreements, she and Marco both share that ruthless streak and often end up on the same side of heavy decisions as a result. She's the first to agree with Marco about giving David up, and the first to voice against making him an Animorph. But Cassie's argument sways her over. Cassie is probably just thinking that more people equals more power, but Rachel frames it by saying that more people means they can afford to take bigger risks (something that Marco can't help but agree with). Cassie is thinking optimistically, but Rachel sees it from a warrior's perspective.

Tobias is for it, and of course he is. David is just like Tobias was back then: no real family, no real home, and effectively a stranger to the rest of the group. He can't give up on David. He needs to have faith that things will work out, the same way they did for him (in a way). There's literally no other choice, as far as he sees it. He says Jake should make the ultimate call but clearly doesn't actually believe that, seeing as how when Jake replies that they need to put it up to a vote, Tobias immediately votes in favor of making him an Animorph.

Ax in particular is fascinating to me here because he's the one who actually suggests making David an Animorph in the first place. At the start of the series, breaking the law of Seerow's Kindness and sharing Andalite technology with humans, let alone a complete stranger, would have been completely unthinkable to him. But now he's seen just how fallible Andalites can be. He's begun to doubt the pillars of his society, and has thrown his lot in with the humans instead. He makes a very human suggestion here. It's something you'd expect Cassie or Tobias to come up with, not Ax. When the vote actually comes around, however, he votes against it. Like Rachel, he views it from a military perspective, but comes to the opposite conclusion. More Animorphs would be good to add to their ranks, but he's been in an army before and this ain't exactly one of those. A seventh member isn't enough of an added benefit, and putting a stranger in the role is too much of a wild card when they're about to undertake such an important mission.

We don't know what Jake is thinking. He never provides an opinion, only stating the facts of the situation and prodding the others for their votes. He's presumably freaking out inside, but trying to keep a calm demeanor in the face of the biggest decision they've had to make up to this point. Any weakness at this pivotal moment could skew everything, so he has to remain as neutral as possible until he can properly collect his thoughts. He's the last of the group to make his vote, and he really doesn't end up making one in the end. David wakes up, sees them, and Jake decides to bring him into the group. If David hadn't woken up there, what would Jake have chosen: Safe but cruel, or risky but optimistic? We never get to find out what was going through his mind at that exact moment, only in the aftermath.

And of course, this is all underscored by the dramatic irony of what this will eventually lead to. The group decides against inaction, but by their actions, they will commit a horror upon David arguably just as bad as the Yeerks would have. Would it have been better to leave him behind and be haunted by what they didn't do, or to have tried to save him and be haunted by what they did do?

[gynandromorph]

another nofna style emulation strip... i haven't drawn anything about Legend's HIOT treatment, even though it is kind of important, mostly because... no fight scenes, lots of tiny letters and twisting roots, and its contingency on other events happening first (like it'd be weird to draw her going to HIOT before even drawing the strip with the voice in it). at the same time, most of the information here? totally just restated information already known by the audience--

Resolve looks small compared to JS, but she's actually quite large... they're just very different heights.

(technically you could also call Remitting Dr. Remitting because she is also qualified to treat patients......) The Rationale member is an african savanna hare.

i want to say that Resolve's an interesting character, in that i don't really have strong opinions about her, which usually means They're Complicated, but i'm kind of meh about her. she's just very Normal. eventually i will write a follow-up strip with her and Remitting post-JS-treatment where her relationship to her patients and work is elaborated upon a little. she is almost 46 years old and she has outlived generations of patients -- for short-lived rodents, probably generations in the double digits. she gets to see from admission to death the results of her work, or lack thereof. i wouldn't say that she has a sense of superiority, as i think she tries to cultivate an open-mindedness, but she has so much experience, she can be quick to solidify her thoughts on matters, and she is not easily swayed by dissenting opinions from younger individuals when she knows her opinion will outlive theirs by her mere act of Continuing to Exist.

as demonstrated in Glyptography, it seems that some HIPAA-alike doesn't exist in this society, and HIOT members are free to comment on any patients in their care. still, with a more legally binding case of committal, i decided that there would be one "lead" individual who had legal guardianship over a patient, and, consequently, the final word on their treatment. Parabola described HIOT in a variety of ways, along with its functions, which included "cataloging anomalies" and "behavior oversight." he also noted that cataloging or investigating behaviors was more of an "early" stage of HIOT, whereas modern HIOT ascribes meaning to the findings and formulates legal conclusions (along with, presumably, still monitoring and controlling anomalous behavior). i treated the admission of patients as fairly common, then, perhaps one of HIOT's main purposes at this point, where members would contend with the fact that there was just an endless stream of new people to treat -- their work didn't seem to change anything about the root of the problems they're tending to.

JS failed her metanoia proposal due to incompletion. what she had while sparring with Machinations, was mostly all she still had by the time she was expected to turn in a thesis, albeit she could spell entire words now. her proctor was willing to pass her with a low grade because it WAS undeniable, even if devoid of apparent purpose.

Remitting and Resolve are, like Misgivings, wearing Guthriea capensis, hidden flower, as corsages. Resolve is wearing a female flower, and Remitting is wearing a male flower. it grows hidden under its own leaves, and its nectar is very bitter, driving most pollinators away. i could have used the same flower that smoothie wore, but i Did Not Feel Like It. the Rationale hare is wearing pale everlasting flowers (Helichrysum pallidum). i figured they would all wear the same corsages? but i don't think we've seen a Rationale member clothed... Maybe the wolf official from Syconium, but that's ambiguous. I had Legend wear a rather formal and pricey mantle, because this is a very humiliating situation for her, and I feel she'd dress up to the 9s to compensate for this loss of face. her corsage is large mountain ink flowers (Cycnium racemosum), a semi-parasitic plant which primarily uses sedges and long grasses as hosts. these flowers turn dark like ink when damaged -- hence their name. they can grow very large, up to multiple feet tall, and she has the long stem threaded through the front of her mantle. her paws are covered in abrasions, not dirt, and her claws have been worn down almost to the quicks due to excessive digging and scratching at surfaces like tree bark.

anyway i think that's all i have to say about this one it's not my most interesting strip. it facilitates later strips like legend asking Resolve about false memories or accessing HIOT documents to pass time and developing her thesis with this new knowledge.

[arcane-vagabond]

By Its Cover: Chapter Two

By Its Cover: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (Last Name: Sinclair)

Summary: The frivolity of high society has never much interested in you. You preferred to spend your time reading, something your sisters couldn't fathom as they spent their time shopping the latest dress styles. The youngest of five children and the fourth daughter, not much was expected of you. You knew you might be married one day, but you hoped beyond hope that it would be to someone that might understand your intellectual pursuits. You begin exchanging letters with a mysterious stranger, and what's more, your older brother's rakish best friend seems to find himself in your path more and more as the season goes on. What's a girl to do? (Regency!AU)

Content Warning: Disapproving Mother, Reader gets scolded, Lingering Touches, Suggestive Jokes, Supportive Dad figures, Overprotective Brother, Shameless Sister, Feelings of Inadequacy. I think that's it, but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.3k

Series Masterlist || Moodboard

You had dozed off at some point in the evening, Mr. Mitchell’s copy of Pride and Prejudice sitting on your lap when the man himself finally came to find you.

“It’s getting late, Bug,” he had whispered, shaking your shoulder as you grumbled your way into consciousness. The older man gave you a kind smile as you blinked the sleep away from your eyes, gazing at him in confusion.

“The party’s just wrapped up,” he chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder as you slowly remembered who’s library you were sitting in. You turned to Mr. Mitchell with concern clear on your face, and he held a hand up to stop you in your tracks.

“Don’t worry, your mother didn’t notice you snuck away,” he smiled, pulling you up by your hand and offering you his arm. You took it, looping yours through his as he gave you a wink. “So let’s hurry you on downstairs so we can keep it that way, hm?”

You let him escort you back down the stairs, several people still milling about as the ballroom cleared, the servants already beginning their cleaning duties as members of the Island bid each other a pleasant evening. Your mother was speaking with Mrs. Mitchell, a beautiful woman who must have been an even greater beauty in her youth you surmised. Georgiana stood off to the side with William and Lord Seresin, smiling and batting her lashes at the blond who seemed to be pointedly keeping his eyes on your brother.

“Oh, darling!” Your mother exclaimed, rushing towards you with a knit of her brow. “Where have you been, dearest?”

“I found her outside in the garden getting some air,” Mr. Mitchell supplied smoothly, giving your arm a playful squeeze. You shot him a small smile, thankful for his understanding of your dislike for large gatherings. You had never been one for them, if you were being honest, the judging eyes that seemed to follow you wherever you went a constant source of anxiety and discomfort. Your father had always understood, telling you once that he felt the same way about them, and you were glad for Mr. Mitchell during this time as well.

He seemed to be the only one other than your late father and Natasha that understood you, the real you that was. Your mother tried, you knew in your heart she did, but she never seemed to know what to do with you, not like your brother and sisters. You found yourself wondering some days if you should perhaps disappear into the night, start a new life where no one knew who you were or where you came from. You longed for a life where someone saw you for who you truly were, not who you were presumed to be given the Sinclair name. You had thoughts and ideas that only Natasha, and Mr. Mitchell on the rare occasion, seemed to understand, but you knew that the two of them wouldn’t be around forever. Were you destined to a life as some miserable lady of the house whose husband merely saw her as a means to procure an heir and maintain appearances?

“By yourself?” Your mother asked, positively aghast. “Dearest, why would you do such a thing? Think of what could have happened!”

Your cheeks warmed at her scolding, glancing down at the floor and wishing in that moment that it would open wide and swallow you whole. You felt the eyes of everyone on you as you stood there silently, and you chanced a glance up, not expecting to meet jade green ones first. Your breath hitched in your throat as your cheeks warmed even more, a feat you weren’t sure how was accomplished. Lord Seresin studied you, a frown tugging at his lips, but it was the look in his eyes that gave you pause.

No judgement shown in them. It was something you weren’t sure you understood. Curiosity, perhaps? His gaze met yours, and you could have sworn they softened as the two of you looked at one another, your eyes widening and lips parting on their own accord.

“It’s alright, Celine,” Mrs. Mitchell soothed, placing a gentle hand on your mother’s arm, drawing her attention away from you for a moment. The movement broke you from your trance, your head ducking down quickly to avoid making an even bigger fool of yourself than you already had. Though why you found yourself so eager to have the young lord’s approval, you weren’t quite sure, and you were irritated with yourself at the realization.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” you murmured, looking up at her through your lashes. She pressed her lips into a grimace before letting out a sigh.

“See that it doesn’t happen again,” she clucked, though you knew she wouldn’t stay upset with you for long - she never did. Mr. Mitchell gave your arm another squeeze before gesturing towards the now empty room.

“Well, as much as I do love seeing you all,” he started, mirth ever present in his tone. “The hour grows late, and I must insist that you all return home so that I may get my rest.”

“He is quite a crankly, old codger when he doesn’t get enough rest,” Mrs. Mitchell teased, smiling endearingly at her husband. He gave her an affectionate smile in return, beginning to steer you towards the exit.

“It was so lovely to see you all,” Mrs. Mitchell continued as the others began to file out as well, your mother on William’s arm and Georgie on Lord Seresin’s, though you couldn’t help but notice that it seemed his attention was entirely on her. “I’m afraid I can’t walk you out, though. There are some things I need to attend to around the manor.”

“It was lovely chatting with you as always, Charlotte,” your mother smiled, earning one in return.

“Please do come over for tea sometime, Celine,” Mrs. Mitchell said, already heading in the other direction. “I do so enjoy your visits!”

The October night sending a chill up your spine as you pressed a little closer to Mr. Mitchell for warmth.

“I knew I should have brought a cape,” you muttered, earning a chuckle. Your brother offered your mother a hand to step up into the stagecoach, ever the dutiful son. Your sister turned to Lord Seresin with a bat of her eyelashes and curl of her lips.

“I do hope we’ll be seeing more of you, your grace,” she purred, puffing her chest out more than was entirely necessary. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your older sister, clenching your jaw at her brazen display. If that’s what it took to get a husband, then you most assuredly wanted no part in it.

Lord Seresin cleared his throat, giving her a polite smile that looked entirely too much like a grimace as he dipped his head to her.

“I’m sure I’ll be finding my way to your family’s estate just like old times, Miss Sinclair,” he responded politely, passing her off to your brother who helped her into the stagecoach. You moved to follow, but Mr. Mitchell pulled you back, a twinkle in his eyes.

“You almost forgot this,” he whispered to you, pressing something into your hand. You glanced down to see the book you had been reading in the library, your eyes alighting in delight as you gripped it tightly.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, turning to find your brother had taken refuge from the cold inside the coach. You saw Lord Seresin standing by the door, waiting for you. You nearly balked, but Mr. Mitchell placed a steady hand on your back and pushed you towards him. Your cheeks suddenly felt too hot as you walked stiffly forward, avoiding the Duke’s eyes as best you could. Once you reached the doors, his hand appeared in your vision. You hesitated, and you weren’t sure why. The moment stretched on in silence, and you could feel the awkwardness at your lack of action grow stronger.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over you as he leaned forward. “I only bite when provoked.”

You glanced up at him, cheeks aflame and eyes widened as before. He let out a low chuckle, meeting your gaze easily as his eyes twinkled.

“I’m kidding,” he smirked, tilting his head in a disgustingly endearing way.

“Bug, get in the coach before we freeze to death,” harped Georgie, shooting you a positively venomous glare. You gulped, slowly placing your hand in Lord Seresin’s as he gripped yours tightly. His hand was warm, comfortingly so, and a spark shot through you as your skin made contact with his. You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flickering up to meet his. A smile curled at his lips as he looked at you with a hooded gaze. You could have sworn the world tampered out around you as he held your gaze, lips spreading into a smirk as his thumb smoothed over the back of your hand. Your lips parted, eyes darting down to his own on their own accord. They looked soft.

“Bug!” Georgie nearly shrieked, pulling you from your stupor. You cleared your throat, turning towards the coach once more, but not before noticing how Lord Seresin’s smile faded into a frown as you moved. You sat in the seat next to your brother, across from Georgie who still openly glared at you. Lord Seresin still held your hand as you settled in the seat, giving it a squeeze as you turned to face him.

“Lady Bug,” he purred as his hand slowly slipped from yours, green eyes intense as they watched you. You swallowed thickly.

“Your grace,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. You glanced behind him towards where Mr. Mitchell stood, a brow raised, but not in your direction. You turned to see your mother looking back at him, a mirroring brow arched as she glanced over at you with a knowing look. You felt embarrassed as you pressed further into the seat. You refused to look up, even as the coach door clicked shut, the driver spurring the horses into motion. Even as you still felt the Duke’s gaze lingering on you.

You turned the page with a tired sigh, eyes flickering up briefly to watch as your sister paced around the large parlor. Morning light filtered through clouds and through the tall windows, casting shadows along the ornate, antique rug that had laid on the floor for God only knows how long. You were still tired from your night at the party, your sister refusing to leave until most of the crowd had left already. The sister in question was pacing haughtily across the carpet in front of you, shooting you poisonous looks as you buried your nose further into your book to try and ignore her. Your mother sat on the sofa across from you, her needlepoint in hand as she eyed your sister with exasperation.

“Georgiana, please,” she sighed, closing her eyes as if that might give her a moment’s respite. “Sit down before you wear a hole in my rug.”

“How can I sit still, Mama?” Georgie cried out, stopping in her tracks to spare your mother the briefest of looks. “She’s sitting there like nothing happened!”

“Because nothing did happen,” you muttered, which proved to be a mistake as your sister swung around to shoot you daggers once more.

“Right,” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “because you didn’t practically drool all over him last night. I saw the way you looked at him!”

“Georgie,” you sighed, setting your book down on your lap to give her your undivided attention, “you know me better than that. I have no interest in courtship, let alone marriage of all things.”

Your words seemed to placate her some as she arched a brow at you, but at least she no longer glared.

“Besides,” you continued, eager to have her ire directed at something other than you, “it was you who he danced with all night, was it not?”

That seemed to snap her out of her tirade, a large smile forming on her lips as she let out a dreamy sigh, twirling in place.

“Yes, it was,” she gushed, cupping her cheek. “Oh, we must have looked so wonderful together. Wouldn’t you agree, Mama?”

Your mother hummed noncommittally as she glanced up from her needlepoint.

“What?” She blinked. “Oh, yes, of course, my darling.”

She didn’t sound too convinced as her eyes strayed to you, that knowing look making your cheeks heat once again as you looked away. Georgiana didn’t notice your silent exchange as she giggled to herself.

“I wonder if we’ll have a long courtship,” she mused, sitting down next to your mother, jostling the older woman slightly. “We shall have a wedding befitting that of a Duke and Duchess, surely.”

“You mustn’t rush these things, my darling,” your mother hummed once more, and you could feel her eyes still boring into you. “Much can happen over the course of a season.”

In that moment, your brother waltzed into the room, a familiar blond following close behind. You felt your heart stutter in your chest, hands clenching the book in your lap as you did your best to try and act like his mere presence didn’t have a most peculiar effect on your senses.

“Good morning, all,” William chirped, leaning against the mantle, a brilliant smile on his face.

“William,” your mother scolded, setting aside her needlepoint hastily before smoothing down her skirts. “You could have warned us that you were expecting company!”

“Sorry, Mother,” William grinned his demeanor contradictory to his words. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Lord Seresin,” your sister giggled, standing so suddenly as to startle you, your book falling to the floor in your fright. You bent over to grab it, fingers just brushing the cover as a much larger hand brushed yours. You glanced up to meet jade green eyes, a nearly silent gasp leaving your lips on its own accord. His fingers, so large compared to your own, brushed the back of your hand gently before you gathered your wits about you. You yanked your hand away, the book along with it as you leaned back up. Your cheeks were on fire, your eyes looking everywhere but at him.

“My lord,” you murmured apologetically, sparing him another glance. His face was unreadable as he watched you for a beat more, slowly standing straight from where he had bent over.

“Lady Bug,” he nodded, pressing his lips into a tight line. You noticed the flex of his hand at his side - the one he had just touched you with - and you felt a fluttering in your stomach.

“Your grace,” your mother began, but Lord Seresin held his hand up to stop her, a smile gracing his handsome features.

“Please, Lady Sinclair,” he said. “I much prefer it if you’d all call me by my given name. Like old times.”

“Jacob,” your mother amended with a bow of her head. “What brings you to our home this morning?”

“Jake was just regaling me with stories of his travels,” William chimed in, walking over to plop down on the sofa next to you. He reached up to tickle your chin, and you swatted his hand away with a vicious scowl. He grinned up at you, shooting you a wink before turning back to others. “I invited him to dinner tonight, I hope you all don’t mind.”

“Of course. You know you’re more than welcome here,” your mother smiled at the blond as your sister practically bounced in her seat from excitement. Your eyes flickered over to him of their own accord, and you were almost unsurprised to see him already looking at you. You blinked, eyes as round as saucers as you looked away. William gave you a look of curiosity, but wrinkled his nose as Georgie batted her eyes up at the duke.

“Jake,” she crooned, leaning forward, practically pushing her chest up for him to view. “Would you care to hear me play the pianoforte? I’ve become quite the good player since you were last here.”

Jake frowned slightly before putting on a charming smile.

“Please. By all means,” he said, gesturing towards the instrument in question. Georgie gathered her skirts before prancing over to sit on the bench. You had to admit, your sister was quite the excellent player. You wouldn’t say you were horrible by any means, but your sister had a knack for music. You were much more content with your books and paints. The delicate notes of her playing filled the room, and you smiled softly as she continued.

Your sister played for a while, and after a few minutes you turned to your brother to say something, stopping when you saw him. William didn’t seem to be paying attention to the music, no. His brow was furrowed, lips turned into a contemplative frown as he all but glared forward. You followed his gaze, stopping as you saw what had him so perplexed. Jake was already looking at you, that unreadable expression once again on his face. Georgiana finished her song, your mother’s clapping breaking you from your stunned silence. You began to clap alongside her, followed by the two men. Georgie rose from the bench, a coy smile on her face as she curtsied to the room.

“That was lovely, Georgie,” William smiled, the consternation having vanished from his demeanor entirely.

“Agreed,” Jake chimed in, and Georgie positively beamed under their praise.

“Thank you,” she gushed. The sun chose that moment to make its way through the gloomy clouds, casting bright light into the room.

“Oh, Mama,” Georgiana exclaimed. “Look! The sun is out. Might we go out promenading?”

Your mother cast her attention out the tall windows, taking in the sight of the almost crystal blue sky.

“It does look lovely outside,” she murmured. “Alright, yes, but be sure to grab your cloaks! Jacob, will you be joining us?”

Jake hesitated, glancing around the room before slowly nodding. “Yes, I suppose I shall if it’s alright with you.”

Georgie practically squealed as she raced out of the room, your mother close behind. You rose to your feet, book still clutched in your hands as your brother followed suit.

“I’ll take that as my cue and meet you all outside, then,” Jake chuckled, casting one more glance at you before heading off in the opposite direction. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, feeling the stress leave your shoulders as they sagged slightly.

“Bug,” William said, and you turned to look at him. His expression was serious, brow furrowed once more.

“What is it?” You questioned, raising a brow at him. William seemed to mull over his words, teeth worrying at his cheek as he was prone to do when something was bothering him.

“Just,” he hesitated, “be careful. Jake is my oldest and dearest friend, but even I know his reputation is well earned.”

Your heart sank in your chest, but you schooled your features into one of nonchalance.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you sniffed, looking away and towards the wall. You weren’t stupid enough to think the duke had any interest in you, the strange youngest sister who had made it known she would never marry. You wouldn’t even know the first thing about being a duchess, and you weren’t about to start entertaining the idea. Not when someone like Georgie seemed so keen on it.

“Right,” William snickered, looking down at his shoes with a shake of his head. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but he must have thought better of it. He looked back up at you, gesturing towards the door.

“Go,” he shooed. “Grab your cloak quickly before we have to hear more of Georgie’s shrieking.”

You smiled at him, nodding before turning on your feet to do as he bid.

A/N: Here it is! I didn't get as much done as I would have liked this week, but I'm proud of myself for getting two different updates out in the same week! That's a lot for me! Anyway, I'm going to enjoy the rest of my week off and look forward to my one in July. Please be thinking about what you would like to see from me next, and let me know what you thought about this chapter!

As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. If you would like to be notified on when I post updates, please follow my side blog (@arcanevagabond-library) and turn on post notifications! My work is cross posted on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[taradactyls]

Something I love about how Pride and Prejudice is told through an omnipresent narrator, aside from the witty remarks and insight into other characters it allows even though it's usually focused on Elizabeth, is how it plays on the audience's own prejudices and assumptions.

The narrator tells us very early on, chapter 4, that Darcy is "haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting." We've already seen that when we meet him the previous chapter, and will see more of it in those following. But it's the readers, along with Elizabeth, who take that observation as not only a list of flaws (despite only the first actually being negative) but presumes even more damaging flaws must be attached to it. Darcy can be off-putting, especially so in the setting we meet him in: he dismissed Elizabeth within earshot of her, didn't engage with people attempting to converse with him, etc. It's easy to assume the worst of him in a world so driven by social niceties, and because we follow Elizabeth, who is so lively and playful amidst the rules which govern society. Elizabeth thinks he's bad tempered? It would make sense - he hasn't shown consideration for others much socially, why would he care when he's angry? He acted from resentment and jealousy and went against his father's will? That's not such a jump after the conclusion of a bad temper, his own acknowledgement of implacable resentment, and evidence of pride. The awareness of one offensive trait so naturally leads to prejudice against it, that we easily assume still worse qualities must exist. We are as mistaken as Elizabeth.

Even the idea that 'No, Darcy was never haughty or rude, he was just shy and misunderstood, the narrator is wrong' is just magnifying that prejudice. Yes, we do find out later that Darcy is not at ease among strangers, and was always intrinsically good; his morals and core values meant he was never as bad as Elizabeth believed. But that doesn't mean he was without flaws, and it's so fascinating that some analysis of his character seek to completely remove the negative traits which he eventually overcame after acknowledging them in himself. The logic seems to be that they feel if he had them in the start that he isn't actually such a good person. It's just another example of being so prejudiced against certain flaws that it's impossible for some people to reconcile that there doesn't have to be more serious failings attached, and someone can still be a good person despite being arrogant and not always nice. It's, ironically, being prejudiced in the exact same way that Elizabeth was at the start of the novel. It's amazing that Jane Austen was able to tap into that aspect of human nature so deftly, and invoke in both in her main character, and readers to this day.

Now, of course, the story is so well known it's rare for anyone to read it blind, so it's less likely anyone will be unaware of Darcy's good qualities despite first seeing his worst. Even if they do, Pride and Prejudice has become so genre defining that new readers who are the slightest bit genre savvy will be more aware than contemporary audiences were. But even if we know the story it's still so understandable why Elizabeth feels the way she does. We see what she sees and feel her conclusions make sense. Just as, even though the narrator tells us Darcy is starting to catch feelings for Elizabeth, we fully comprehend her not noticing and believing there's a mutual dislike. And though that is concrete evidence of Elizabeth not reading Darcy and his motives correctly, we are still so sympathetic of the basis of her prejudice that her continued belief in Darcy's lack of virtues makes sense from her point of view. We can see, as she later will, that she takes it too far, and should have noticed evidence to the contrary, but her prejudice against him based on his early behaviour and her pride at reading people correctly is so understandable.

Basically, in a story about the characters' pride and prejudices, I love, love, LOVE how the narrator's voice brings out those same traits in readers the exact same way we see it presenting in Elizabeth. We're all on that journey with her, and we can likewise learn the same lessons about ourselves as she does. Pride and Prejudice feels timeless, because even though society and thus the nuance changes, the book is about human nature, and that remains essentially the same.

[mysunfreckle]

When it comes to adaptations of Pride & Prejudice, especially modernised versions, it's always quite clear that Jane Austen is a lot harsher towards Lydia Bennet than we are generally comfortable with nowadays. She's barely sixteen and yet is held fully responsible for all of her actions and thereby deserving of how she ends up (with Wickham).

But there's something else that I think is integral to Lydia's character and her treatment in the narrative: she is not sorry and she is not miserable. And while her gleeful "Lydia was Lydia still" attitude just after she got married could be just another piece of evidence that she's simply too unprincipled to feel any sort of shame, all the information we get about her future implies that she pretty much stays that way:

Whenever [Lydia and Wickham] changed their quarters, either Jane or [Elizabeth] were sure of being applied to for some little assistance towards discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest of a cheap situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection for her soon sunk into indifference: hers lasted a little longer; and, in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to reputation which her marriage had given her. Though Darcy could never receive him at Pemberley, yet, for Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him further in his profession. Lydia was occasionally a visitor there, when her husband was gone to enjoy himself in London or Bath; and with the Bingleys they both of them frequently stayed so long, that even Bingley’s good-humour was overcome, and he proceeded so far as to talk of giving them a hint to be gone.

It is very likely Lydia does not enjoy being poor, but she has no qualms about asking her sisters for money. And while I presume Wickham isn't faithful to her (especially not when "enjoying himself" in London or Bath), it says in the text that her affection for him only lasts "a little longer" than his for her.

It is remarked upon that Wickham and Lydia's characters "suffered no revolution from the marriage of her sisters" and, although she is always refused, she keeps trying to get Kitty to visit her with the promise of balls and young men.

Compare this to how Maria Betram's future is sketched at the end of Mansfield Park:

It ended in Mrs. Norris’s resolving to quit Mansfield and devote herself to her unfortunate Maria, and in an establishment being formed for them in another country, remote and private, where, shut up together with little society, on one side no affection, on the other no judgment, it may be reasonably supposed that their tempers became their mutual punishment.

No such promise of punishment for Lydia! If she really stays "Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless", perhaps she is allowed to skip through her unsatisfactory marriage with the same energy she skipped into it: flirting left and right, spending all her money, and thinking only of her own enjoyment.

Which is probably the kindest ending the story can give her, considering she insisted on marrying Wickham.

[follows-the-bees]

Stede's journey screams demisexuality to me. (And as someone who is demi, I love it.)

I've posted about a reading of Ed as demiromantic as well.

Stede doesn't leave to find (romantic) love. He set out to find himself, to find a community. And he finds that! His crew becomes his family (it's also part of why he starts crying and really starts to self-destruct in 2x7 when they start to leave.)

Along the way he finds not only a best friend, but the love of his life: in that same person. Stede's journey is a blatant queer allegory: a man who has never fit into society, who is treated poorly for not fitting into *pick your societal norm*, who finds himself through community, fixing some of his past relations, but also discovering his sexuality: gay and demisexual.

Stede and Ed's connection is based on friendship — their emotional journey. We see an instant connection in 1x4 where both of them are fascinated by each other.

Stede tries to be open with the crew beforehand, an open door policy to the cabins, various other rooms, and the library. He tries to form that connection with others (to varying degrees at first.)

But when Ed enters the picture, they immediately have that connection. They are interested in each other and their idiosyncrasies.

We see their friendship grow over the course of the next few episodes. They remain equal in all things, learning and teaching each other. We see the deepening of friendship of course in the big scene of the bathtub.

Ed shares his biggest secret (secrets technically), trusting Stede with it. And Stede responds in kind, using the term friend for the first time. Their emotional intimacy grows deeper here.

We also see their connection and friendshio in the small moments. From how well they match each other with playing/riffing off of each other, finding in one another a partner. Something they always wanted. Someone who gets them for who they are, but also meets them at that level, letting them unmask and have fun.

And in small gestures such as learning basic things about each other: Stede knowing exactly how Ed likes his tea. That Ed will be cranky that he has sand in his beard. That Ed would set the world on fire or die trying, etc.

So much of Stede's s journey is having an emotional connection to Ed, and from there a sexual one. But it takes him a while to figure it out. I don't read his season one trek as repressed but rather not ever having that connection with another human being before — particularly a man. He knows about same sex relationships (he presumably went to boarding school and is on the queerest pirate ship in the Caribbean🌈) but I don't think he ever attached it to himself.

Their friendship crosses the line at their first kiss. But the focus of the kiss isn't sexual, it's emotional. It's that sigh at finally finding the thing you always wanted but simultaneously didn't know you needed. That feeling of oh, there you are.

We don't see Stede show (romantic/sexual) interest in anyone else. (Same thing with Ed in a way, but Ed's journey is another topic.)

Even during their time apart, they are both pining for each other, no hints of feelings or acts with others.

Stede is having sex dreams about Ed at night and writing gorgeous love letters during the day. And when they finally connect again, Stede and Ed take it slow. Stede tells Ed exactly how he feels about him, and it isn't about how he wants to jump his bones. He tells him he just likes being near him. And respects Ed's boundaries, never crossing them and telling him he doesn't have to say anything back.

One of my favorite things about their relationship is their consent and bodily autonomy respect in each other. He knows Ed and respects Ed. Ed knows and respects Stede.

They are friends first and lovers second.

At the surface his dreams may be about becoming a pirate (not really being a pirate but rather using the stories of pirates he read in books to achieve his dream of getting community), but ultimately, his dream is just really getting to be himself, love himself, and in the process, he picks up a found family. It's mutual.

Stede no doubt knew about sexual attraction, particularly others having it, but not so much himself having it nor acting on it. Not until Ed at least. And when he does discover and puts into words those feelings, everything going on with his sexuality, Stede does not hesitate, he does not doubt. He goes after Ed, after love.

Watching Stede discover love for the first time, a deep emotional friendship that then evolves into a romantic and sexual one. His demisexual journey over the two seasons (so far) has been wonderful to watch and connect with.

That's my demisexual king! And queen! Everything!

I've written pieces of this before, but I wanted to combine all of it together into one post.

Happy Asexual Awareness week, loves! 🖤🩶🤍💜

[tritoch]

the witch of the cave: matoya, y'shtola, and the night's blessed

long rambly and extremely unedited post about y'shtola and matoya, two characters i really feel like we don't talk about or take seriously enough. i think the popular (and in many ways intended) perception of FFXIV as a game about dramatic high-tension moments and attendant emotional catharsis makes it easy to overlook the fact that there's plenty of subtext to mine from, especially for characters like these two who can come off as somewhat reserved and also have very little screen time together. i find the night's blessed very helpful for thinking about them both. spoilers through endwalker below. tl;dr version of the post can be found by reading the bolded text below.

on my first playthrough the whole rak'tika thing felt very underdeveloped, and i still think a lot of the story beats are weak. here's y'shtola she's your last member to rejoin she has a new village now(?) and OH she's dead again WAIT she's back and then we're off into "zodiark and hydaelyn are primals" land and there's no time to think anymore about the night's blessed. but on reflection i think this works out okay imo because the night's blessed are only just barely there for plot reasons. they serve instead, like the outfit redesign, to establish the game's new baseline concept for who y'shtola is going to be as a character going forward. the night's blessed let the writing shorthand a lot of y'shtola's off-screen development and set her up as a powerful and extremely self-actualized person, using matoya as her foil.

in brief: matoya is implied to have lived her life prior to the sharlayan exodus constantly at odds with the (imo obviously sexist and hide-bound) forum. as a result, she was pretty isolated from and in conflict with much of sharlayan society, to the point that while y'shtola leaves with everyone else in the exodus to presumably matriculate at the studium and earn her archon's marks, matoya stays behind, with no company but her familiars.

and this is agonizingly sad, i think. 15 years alone in a cave. dravania's isolation means she has no one to talk to but frogs she has magic'ed and trained into familiars. little to occupy her but her work and her memories, and her memories of y'shtola are so painful to her she locks them away. even when y'shtola returns to eorzea after ten years away she can't find the time to see her until the scion's issues demand it (to be fair to y'shtola, getting to matoya overland means traveling through ishgard and dravania, and prior to the calamity they're totally occupied with that and afterwards there's the whole dragon thing).

(hey also this whole thing is even SADDER when read in light of the encyclopedia eorzea text that "the day [Matoya] begins to remember her students fondly will be the day that her work ends." she won't let herself take these memories back until she retires!)

they barely talk at their reunion, and while there's some brief honest fondness from matoya early on they soon turn to their characteristic deflecting and sardonic back-and-forth for what little time they get to talk, before matoya delivers a poorly-translated and confusing warning on aethersight and exits the 3.0 story. even by the time of shadowbringers, y'shtola can't bring herself to admit that when alone in a foreign land, she took on her master's name, and neither will straightforwardly admit to missing the other. in a game full of effusive and warm relationships between master and pupil or guardian and ward, matoya and y'shtola's relationship is warm, but specifically characterized by distance and deflection, consistent with how matoya has rejected (and/or isolated herself from) others her whole life.

that's not to say there's not love there, obviously, and not all expressions of love look or the same. but this is not how y'shtola behaves elsewhere. when she visits you at the annex in endwalker, she's quite sincere and direct there, coming to you with her concerns and stating plainly that doesn't want to see you harmed, making it clear she was actively worried about how you were doing. she even pre-emptively apologizes when she fears she's inappropriately joked about your misfortunes. she's also obviously much more direct and deflects less with the night's blessed themselves, or runar, or urianger after rak'tika, or zero. she can be funny or glib or arch, but she makes no effort to conceal how much these relationships mean to her, or how she feels at any given point.

y'shtola can be sharp, she can be sarcastic, she can go for the throat or be dismissive and imperious, but she's generally not those things with people she cares about in private conversation. for a woman who makes it quite clear that she cares a lot about the image she projects to others, she is never ashamed of her own feelings or afraid to voice them, but neither is she harsh or cruel. the one time she does the matoya-style thing of being so honest and brusque it tips over to backbreakingly blunt, it's to thancred in rak'tika, over her concerns that as the sole guardian of an isolated young ward, he isn't doing enough to affirm her as her own person or to be emotionally honest and supportive of her. i have some thoughts as to why that might be; you may be able to guess what they are!

so shadowbringers sets up a parallel for the player: remember matoya in the cave, having spurned sharlayan politics, left to pursue her research and guard the antitower, a solitary hermit for fifteen years? well here's y'shtola as matoya, in a cave, having spurned the lies and half-truths of two specific sharlayan men. she initially comes off alternately distant and brusque, unable to recognize you and perhaps changed herself. the fact that y'shtola's not just the local cave witch to the night's blessed ends up being a sort of narrative reveal, and her characterization as a beloved and respected leader who feels a deep attachment to the community in turn shows how much she's grown and surpassed her mentor. (and note in turn urianger, over there in fairyland pretty much actually doing the matoya thing except, in accordance with his whole deal, in a way that is both slightly healthier and much weirder).

and there's narrative payoff for this: y'shtola, having been fairly closed-off and mission-focused up until now, flings herself into a fucking pit and casts "hope this doesn't kill me lmao" the very second she learns the night's blessed have been harmed and she has a chance to save them (and that's not a romance thing; she has no idea runar's been harmed. she only knows the villagers of slitherbough have been poisoned, and an antidote exists). and from her (annoyingly obviously fake) death you learn that she isn't just valued and respected by the community, but has formed close enough relationships for people to feel real and deep attachment to her.

y'shtola notes at several points that she and master matoya dedicated their lives to the pursuit of truth above all else. but in the end y'shtola was also a student of louisoix, a man who far valued compassion for the plight of others above all else (and, not for nothing, he's not exactly #1 parent/guardian/mentor of the astral era either). in rak'tika, all the finest qualities of y'shtola reach a kind of culmination. the relentless pursuit of what is true and what is right, but as part of a healthy, caring community, without the isolating and painful pride of her mentor. and she sacrifices nothing of herself to attain this. she is exactly who she was before rak'tika, if anything a little more brusque. she's even still a little withholding about herself, noting that she cultivated an "image of restraint" among the night's blessed. but none of this interferes with her ability to be a powerful and respected and admired leader of a close-knit community.

and again none of this is really a critique of matoya, who i have enormous affection for as effectively the game's only representation (until endwalker) of an older woman in STEM. but she is a product of what her circumstances allowed: where matoya, as a sincere believer in truth, had only rivals in a deeply conservative and isolationist society, y'shtola, carrying forward the same principles, has friends and comrades in an increasingly open and free world. she turns her mentor's unflinching honesty from an alienating political weakness into a pillar of both slitherbough and the scions. matoya's self-imposed exile from sharlayan is, by her own acknowledgement, petty and in some ways goes against her own values. and listen you've gotten far enough in this rambling, we can all be real for a second: matoya is definitely kind of an asshole and went into self-imposed exile and sealed up her research because of a disagreement with the Forum over weapons development. y'shtola's leveraging the integrity and searing honesty she learned from matoya to far more altruistic ends!

i think a lot of players have a vision of y'shtola somewhere on a continuum from badass avatar of destruction to powerful and solitary archmage. and i agree that's cool as hell but i also think ffxiv is a game that believes, at its core, that community is one of the most important things in the world, both in terms of what it can do for a flourishing society and as a critical element for people to find value and fulfillment in their own lives. y'shtola developing her own close attachment to a community in shadowbringers is meant to serve as shorthand for how she has come into her own as a person and found a fulfilling and meaningful life in line with her ideals, living up to matoya's ideal of all knowledge existing to advance mankind. it is no coincidence that this happens at the same time as she goes from "a pretty good mage" to being consistently portrayed as one of the more powerful mages in the setting and the scions' magical powerhouse. the genre trappings and the character arc work in harmony.

i think what this means becomes a little clearer set against characters like thancred (who spends 5.0 getting to "can have a mostly emotionally honest conversation with his surrogate daughter and make her feel loved and valued") and estinien (who, after twenty years living in and dying for one walled city, had one of the worst months anyone has ever had and ever since can't be in the same place for more than two seconds). their permanent states as vagabonds reflect their lack of close ties (what with all the tragic death) and still-healing emotional wounds. by contrast, y'shtola has achieved the wisdom and grace to live life as part of a connected whole, and has found a way to bring her values to bear in all parts of her life and in her leadership of this community, in so doing improving the lives of herself and everyone around her. y'shtola doesn't settle down with the night's blessed as a natural progression of her life or as a precondition to her maturation, but instead is capable of forming this kind of attachment to the night's blessed precisely because she has developed the integrity and emotional honesty to live in accordance with her values. and she can cast LB3 meteor in cutscenes now.

and also, conveniently, this is done in a way that lets them shorthand/off-screen a lot of this arc and do the rest of it with very minimal screentime for y'shtola and it has an associated romance subplot and also conveniently she's immediately severed from this important community so she can stay footlose and fancy-free in the protagonist group and Isn't It Funny How Scion Women Settle Down Or Die While We Keep Accumulating Permanent Bachelors, I Just Think It's Funny. obviously none of this is above critique. but i think the narrative takes pretty seriously the idea that y'shtola is actually the team's most emotionally developed and mature member in a lot of ways and slitherbough is where a lot of that starts, and you can't understand all that without matoya.

[thechekhov]

Chekhov Reads Dungeon Meshi: CH46

D....dark Laios?

I mean, you DID consent!

The fact that ghosts can pass through walls and take other things with them... it kind of elicits another type of organism. Like, what can pass through cell walls? What other parts of the body can just yoink stuff from one place and bring it to another?

Congrats! It's all just been a dream!

I'm sorry what the SHIT?!?!?

Well, I-- .... yeah, I GUESS.

Though it looks more like one of those carousel horses.

I think this is probably still inside the dungeon. Very... DEEP. Inside the dungeon.

What? WHAT?! These things are like regular animals down here???

Oh, I--hm. I see.

Ordered by WHOMST?

Is this just an entire society of (humans??? ghosts?) that lives here in the dungeon deep? Is there still a king under the mountain? Are the rumors of the king dying not true at all?

........or are these people and descendants of adventurers who came in but were never able to leave? And the fact that Senshi points out that none of them are old.... are they ageing?

Laios, Senshi n--...... welp. There they go.

Bless this man and his absolutely non sexual obsession with monsters. But.

Izutsumi, who is a human-level intellect beastkin (though she's low on wisdom and patience....) is being very.... beast-ly and soft here. She's being magically compelled, presumably, to chill the fuck out.

Which means all these monsters are also under the same effect? Isn't that a little fucked up? They're basically under a permanent drugged effect.

Also. Hm. 'short lifespan' is....relative. Short lifespan compared to what? Immortality?

Orcs know this place exists....?

These people planting things for fun means they're absolutely trapped here like spirits.

Keeping up appearances for. Whom.

These poor people have no new incomers to talk to, huh.

Oh, I uh---- ................ hm. THat's not at all what I was imagining either.

Fashion is cyclical after all I guess....

Mmmmm. Mmmm-hmmmMMM.

WHEEEEZXE

Knowing I've finally hit these two absolutely iconic panels... amazing.

......I guess it can only do so much to make her docile...... she still doesn't like Laios.

Why does he look familiar...?

....so Derghal had a son. And a grandson. So then why is there a bid for the throne...?

Laios. Laios, is milking the minotaur the ONLY thing you did? Or was there more to it? Laios.

It's interesting. That bartender said he was 600 when he started his now-400 year old ale. So. That means they're 1000 years old.

That means that they're about as long lived as elves? Haven't gone mad yet. But that's still a long time.

That's kinda worse, yeah, but a loss of the self is a type of death, in a way...? So....

The most throwback of all time.

Actually, I feel like that's been there for a while, although it didn't always look EXACTLY like a lion's head. I feel like the little living armor he keeps in there made it that design? But how would it do that on purpose?

this is what it looked like some chapters back. Yeah, it's been sculpting into a lion's mane for a while now.... Ohohohoh playing the long game are we? 👀

Ah, it's not a wolf. How tragic for you, Laios. It'll never work out.

Also, damn, those wings sure be lookin like Falin's very non-dragon wings. What a wild coincidence. I'm sure that doesn't mean anything. :)

laughing hysterically. This poor guy can't get a break. He's been running from responsibility and inheritance for his entire life and it still catches up and trips him purposefully.

There is definitely a certain amount of tragedy there, yeah. These people aren't asking Laios for help because it's easier. They're legitimately stuck in a nightmare scenario. Unless you're someone who can get pleasure from other avenues, living all that time without the basic needs will drive a person mad. Elves live just as long, presumably, but they're still able to eat, I assume.

I'm honestly more surprised they're all as sane as they are.

.......King of Forgor.