#trying to convince myself i’m better than everyone else because it’s slightly abstract and different

[jerkerouac]

not me writing cherik fan fiction and genuinely considering posting it on ao3… at the ripe age of 23… this is so embarrassing you guys i used to do that in HIGH SCHOOL… omfg

[someobscurereference]

I just read one of your old fics, Where We Began, and honestly I'm so in love with it? If you don't plan on writing more do you have any other abstract ideas about it? Like about how the Nohrians would try to calm them down or which of the trio decided to trust them first or just anything like that? I just really like it a lot and it's entirely fair if you don't have any other thoughts about it, it's an awesome concept but you wrote it years ago, I just thought I'd give it a shot

(referring to this fic) Firstly, I'm so glad you enjoy one of my older works! I write a lot of FE, but I enjoy my early stuff as much as my more recent stuff, so I'm glad you enjoy it too!

Secondly, I don't plan on adding more to the fic itself like as a sequel or anything, but I always welcome questions about any fic I write!

Re: The Nohrians calming the kids down

The Trio definitely get rounded up after Severa gets caught in the barn, lol. The only hope they had was running away, and Camilla caught Severa. Owain & Inigo aren't going to just leave her behind, and Niles is probably hot on their tail. So there goes that escape attempt. They'd probably get herded back to the castle pretty soon after, but that just means they're (very clumsily) trying to whisper escape plans to each other once get they stuck in a (windowless) room. So the kids are probably panicking less outwardly at that point but still Freaked. Even if this is post-war, it's a big, dark castle full with Bad Vibes. Why wouldn't they still think this is Plegia?

Re: Gaining trust

This is harder because you have to convince a bunch of 12 year olds whose last memories are of the apocalypse and who have been taught anything that resembles Plegia is probably on the side of Grima that hey, you're in another universe, you don't remember coming here, you're actually adults, we didn't know your real names before a second ago and the aesthetic is Ominously Dark Here but we promise it's cool, we're tight. Like, even for a kid, that's not going to fly

Ultimately, this would come down to how much the Trio have revealed about themselves to their lords, I think. Because you need at least one (better if at least 2) of the lords to say, "Hey, your mom's name is _____ and you told me about this secret memory from the time you were _____ and ____ happened, which I never could have found out unless you told me yourself."

It would not require all the lords/retainers to do this because if Inigo or Owain were both like "Hm, that is true, the only way you'd know that is if I trusted you enough to tell you myself," that would sway Severa not to freak out entirely, I think. (And vice versa; if Severa & Owain both were convinced Leo/Niles & Camilla knew them, that would convince Inigo even if Xander didn't have anything to offer just then, etc.)

However, they're not all the same levels of trusting. Inigo would be the easiest to sway, Owain would be medium distrustful even if Leo/Niles offered good evidence bc Imagination Running Wild (although that also means he's the easiest to convince they hopped dimensions/time traveled too), and Severa would be hardest to convince about anything in general, even if she didn't have any other way of explaining how Camilla or Beruka knew X about her otherwise. Severa is jaded at age 12.

Inigo probably compliments Camilla & Elise even more so than in canon but he gets Visibly Flustered every time they talk back to him because Tween Vibes. (I elaborate a bit more on this down below).

I think Severa would actually butt heads with Camilla because Camilla is so doting and motherly (and a flyer!), and Severa at this age has a lot of Angst and Mommy issues that she has yet to work through. Also, it's up in the air how soon aver Cordelia's death this would be for her. So this would be a tough dynamic for both of them to adjust to, and Severa would probably avoid Camilla until/unless something changed.

I can't remember if this was an ask in regards to this fic or something else, but I remember a long, long time ago having the thought that a de-aged Odin/Owain would actually be more drawn to Xander and Camilla rather than Leo, simply because of the fact Xander has such a cool sword and Owain canonically admires Camilla's armor. Leo is a dark mage, which is also cool, but not quite as Immediately Cool to a 12 year old who Loves Swords and doesn't yet use magic. I think this would actually make Leo jealous and exacerbate his inferiority complex, lol. (*Niles voice: Green isn't a good color on you, milord*) But all it would take is Owain seeing Brynhilder and hearing about it for him to Flip Out over that too, so I think the problem would solve itself then, lol

As a side note, here is a short blurb I wrote years ago in a scenario where Leo is there when Odin de-ages instead of Niles. Also, here is another ask about young Inigo's behavior with the royals. In summary for that, I think he'd actually be a bit shyer than he is in Awakening (when he's late teen age, I hc) because at 12-ish he's reached the "always smile, no matter what" stage of his facade but not the 100% "fake it 'til you make it" approach, so he's still really nervous around anyone and everyone. (Espcially royalty. Especially Extremely Tall, Very Handsome/Beautiful Royalty. For reference, Lucina may not intimidate him at this age because they've known each other since forever and That's Different, but I think people like Chrom (assuming this isn't Chrom! Inigo) and Emmeryn (were she alive) would get him flustered still. But maybe not Lissa because she may be more Owain's Mom to him than princess just because of the way she acts (though he may avoid her out of fear of getting a frog in his shoe or something) (But he'd still be flustered if she complimented him bc Nervous!!) Anyway!! That's too long! Inigo at this age, even after he's calmed down and knows what's up, would be shyer than his canon self, I think. He's still growing up

EDIT: also an additional old ask found here about this fic. However, I mention the kids being 13/14 in that ask rather than like 11/12 like I mentioned here. I don’t have any concrete ages written for them in the fic, so just assume they’re whatever age that seems best (and their ages probably vary anyway). However, if they’re on the younger side I think the Trio are still absolutely Okay with fighting (even though they wish they don’t have to, they fear the Faceless too much to be comfortable when one comes close bc Risen Vibes), BUT the age difference between 11 & 14 does mean its even harder for them to fight than it might be as slightly older teens (although they still do probably have pretty good teamwork, despite not getting along) and without rescue there’s a good chance they’d still lose

[liskantope]

Hopefully this will be my last-ever post complaining about what someone said on social media, because current events are simmering down and once they’ve reached a moderate enough hum I’m going to redouble my previous efforts to stay away from it. But the particular interaction I’m going to describe seems to have furthered my progress slightly in understanding why so many people shout their views in the way that they do and how I should learn to better accept it.

One of my “closest” Facebook friends for over a decade, whose life’s passion nowadays revolves around anti-racist work (mainly in childhood education; she is white) posted a few hours after Biden’s victory was officially called last Saturday to preach that white Biden-voters shouldn’t claim any of the credit for his victory because it was BIPOC and particularly black women who carried this election (her justification for why they “carried us” was that as a demographic group most of them voted for Biden while as a demographic group a majority of white people voted for Trump), and that nothing will be better now except for who is in the White House because “whiteness and white supremacy have not disappeared” and that “your” responsibility is not diminished and “you” are not absolved as a good white person. She ended with an exhortation to bow down and “bend your knees” to BIPOC for “saving our asses”.

(Just realized looking back at her post to write this one that the phrasing was not “bend the knee” as I repeatedly misread at the time, assuming that it was a direct reference to Game of Thrones of which I know she’s a fan, and having recently listened to this insightful 8-minute Sam Harris podcast episode which used the phrase. This is slightly unfortunate since it was the obnoxiousness of that particular phrasing which tipped me over to acting against my better judgment in not just ignoring this like I have with so many dozens of other statements. I still find it obnoxious, though, and sanctimonious, and terrible messaging, and using poor arguments about causation, and reflecting an insistence on viewing as much as possible in terms of race at all times, and the epitome of identity politics.)

So yeah, after waiting a couple of days, I broke my usual silence and wrote a very polite but argumentative response that turned out to be enough paragraphs to make me feel a little embarrassed that I would take that much of my time on it. I knew there was virtually no chance of convincing her of anything substantial, but I figured just maybe some insight into how foreign and alienating this “you are responsible for what everyone of your color does and are never good enough and have to kneel in deference to those of a color which is” messaging is bound to be to anyone who’s less in an academic bubble than we are (which is, like, most people). I made the point that individual BIPOC didn’t contribute any more than individual white people did to Biden’s victory and that if we’re going to judge blocs of voters according to race we should be blaming Cuban-Americans for Biden’s loss in Florida, and that in fact Trump gained votes from among BIPOC and lost white male votes since four years ago. I wrote that implying that the only salient feature of us individuals is race is exactly what people complain about when they use the term “identity politics” and that the results of this election suggest that maybe we’re doing something wrong with our messaging.

It wasn’t a disaster. I got a very cordial response which completely avoided ad hominem and at least engaged the points I had made while clarifying her views. I didn’t find the supposed rebuttals of my points at all convincing, of course. For instance, my complaint about treating individual voters as merely people of a certain color was met with “It’s important in anti-racist scholarship to be able to analyze demographic trends in terms of race” (I would... never disagree with this?) and that focusing on individuals allows people to only look at their own actions and those of their friends and feel too good about themselves. She also expressed skepticism about my statistics about where Trump gained/lost support, which I was able to back up with a quick Google search which pulled up a Vox article among others (I thought it was only the insufficiently committed white liberals like me who sucked at Googling?). But her own views, while still resting on axioms I fundamentally differ on, just sounded a lot more reasonable when restated? E.g. “Moments like this shouldn’t be centered on whiteness” and “the ‘good white liberals’ should be aware that they aren’t as a big of a demographic in our race as they should be” (I don’t know any white liberal who would disagree or who doesn’t realize that white people vote majority Republican or is okay with that?) and that the bowing and bending the knee was not “a literal statement” but simply meant to convey that we should greatly respect how BIPOC voters contribute. She ended with providing a long list of anti-racist activists (the only one of whom I’m familiar with is Ally Henny, who I mainly remember for statements about how I’m encased in so many layers of racism that I would never be able to peel them off if I spent my whole lifetime doing nothing but trying) as a “starting point” of study.

I replied thanking her for pointing me to sources and agreeing with her implication that I should read more with a mind towards understanding what they’re saying before spouting off any more opinions. (Guess I have to make good on that promise now.) I made clear that I see a difference between her restatements and the way she worded things in her original post and suggested that some of this might even be on me for interpreting these kinds of posts more as logical arguments when they should be understood in a slightly more poetic manner. I gently gestured towards my suspicion that the current scholarship in this area might reflect a university culture (which I am very much a part of) more than the concrete priorities and concerns of the majority of people of color, although I’m in no position to positively claim anything about this. I got no response.

Anyway, in writing my last response, a little more clicked into place for me about a different lens through which I should process all the behavior that drives me nuts in a written context online (I mainly mean social media but am being even broader than that). This is going to sound condescending but ironically it might help me to have a less condescending attitude?

The fact is -- and I just have to accept this -- that making efforts to be nuanced and to “meet people who disagree where they are at” and to aim for the truth but no farther than the truth are simply not highly-valued principles for most people (social media -users and otherwise). They may kinda-sorta agree in the abstract with these principles, but in practice they hold a much lower status than the principles of conveying anger and strong words as a sign of commitment towards Fighting Evil. Some people I know do have an “argumentation value system” closer to mine, and I know who those people are -- it really shows in what they write online. But those people are a fairly small minority.

And this alien “argumentation value system” isn’t something that really shows in casual real-life interactions very plainly at all (which of course is what almost all human interactions were up until 10-15 years ago), while in contrast social media is an environment that augments its effect.

The sooner I accept this, the more moderation I’ll be able to manage in my negative reactions. I can remind myself that there’s less fundamental disagreement on most actual issues between me and the people I know: we instead disagree on a sort of meta-level issue of how one’s views should be presented. And that issue, taken by itself, seems somehow like something more minor. I wrote a few months ago about how knowing what so many people in my life write publicly oftentimes interferes with my capacity to view them as potential intimate friends/partners. Maybe I can be a little more accepting when I recognize that the things they write which turn me off perhaps don’t come from a place of such irrationality as I thought, that the differences in our ways of thinking might not be quite so fundamental (although this differing system of values for argumentation still strikes me as something that could badly affect a marriage, say). And in the practical short term, I can ignore things that bother me more easily in the future -- instead of feeling like I’m on a tilted playing field where everyone else gets to vent without inhibition while I have to carefully monitor and qualify everything I say, I can try to just round a lot of this off in terms of different preferred writing styles and somehow that bothers me less?

A similar underlying principle holds for the things that annoy me on dating profiles, what with the collective obsession with dogs and boasts of being “fluent in sarcasm” and so on. This probably doesn’t reflect much about the way the creators of these profiles actually are as humans in real life. Not that many single women really view their dogs as the most interesting thing that ever was or will be about their lives. They just choose to have a certain style of exposition about themselves because of peculiarities of the environment of online dating sites/apps, where showing enthusiasm and individuality in some way seems to pay and the topic of dogs would seem like a pretty safe place to direct this performed enthusiasm. Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t demonstrate some aspect of incompatibility with me or that I’m not going to be more instantly attracted to those with profiles that have more refreshing things to say than stuff about how amazing dogs are or of those who *gasp* actually prefer cats or *deeper gasp* prefer not to have pets at all. But it means that I can read the dogs-and-sarcasm-enthusiast profiles a little more charitably maybe?

This slightly altered mindset is a far from perfect solution, but I think it helps. A lasting three-quarters-of-the-way disconnect from social media entirely still needs to be a goal at this point.

[wildegreenlight]

in case

A/N: First of all let me have a moment to bask in the glow of finishing/publishing two fics in one month (well, two “chapters” at least). 

Ok, that’s better: when I was writing “just” I didn’t intend for it to be a multi chapter, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen next. So, here is the next installment, a dose of #pitp for my DEM crew.

As of now, this is still very much a canon, missing moments work (you know I’m a sucker for those), but I am not sure if I can keep myself off the AU ledge. 

Thanks for the support, and likes, and reblogs (and violent gifs @jenn582), it really does butter my biscuit! 

Also much love to @callieskye without whom I would probably be a much more responsible adult instead of obsessing over fictional characters (and plotting to lick mona lisas). First round is on me this weekend! 

It was wrong, all wrong: not that he was really sure just how he’d pictured it. It wasn’t like he’d thought that hunting horcruxes would be easy or safe or hell, glamorous, but he had assumed that he’d be doing it with two functioning arms.

Now here he was again, flat on his back with her tending to him. Having an excuse to have her so close; her smooth, cool hands brushing back his hair from his fevered face, her nimble fingers gently adjusting his bandages, was most certainly not a bad thing, but it was not what he had wanted. He had wanted to be the one doing the tending. Not that he wanted her hurt, the thought made him literally sick to his stomach, but he needed to show her that she could depend on him. That night in his room, just a few weeks ago, he'd actually felt that for the first time she understood, really understood what he was saying, what he was feeling. Which was a special type of  miracle considering how long it took him to understand it his own damn self.

He’d spent all of fourth year trying to actively not think about what made his friendship with Hermione so different from his one with Harry. Despite popular opinion, he had known she was a girl, in a vague sort of way. He'd also already known that he liked her as something more than just a friend. But that was the same with Harry: both had flown right past the “friends” category and into “family” long before that ill-fated ball. But as fifth year loomed, a realization came clawing at him: he wanted to snog Hermione, and that was most certainly not the same as Harry. 

So the next year or so had been dedicated to the futile task of trying to convince himself that he wanted to snog a girl and that it was only because Hermione was around all the time that he wanted it to be her. It would have been a right decent plan too except for the fact that he never found himself wanting to kiss anyone else. Sure Fleur’s Veela death ray made his mind go fuzzy sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. When his soon-to-be sister-in-law left the room, the effect vanished. When Hermione left the room, it didn’t lessen his snog- wants in the slightest.  In fact, as he learned in a spectacularly disastrous fashion, even snogging someone else didn’t cure it.

He didn’t want it to sound quite so insulting to Lavender: she really was a nice enough girl. And, if here were being completely honest, all the attention and all the kissing were nice at first, but even then it was like eating a tin of biscuits when you aren’t particularly hungry. You’re all like, Wicked! There’s biscuits! And you have a few, and they’re ok, because they are biscuits after all, but when you finish them you don’t feel particularly satisfied. So, just when he'd sussed out that in addition to loving Hermione in the same way that he loved Harry and his family, he had another, even deeper feeling that he wasn’t ready to name yet, he thought he had lost her altogether. 

He guessed that love and magic were a lot alike. They were both frequently complicated, not everyone believed in them, and you didn’t always appreciate them until you couldn’t make them work.  They were both also words that quite honestly got overused. Ron Weasley grew up in a home whose very fabric was love and magic. Being friends with Harry had taught him just how much he took them both for granted. It had been both of those forces that made his 17th birthday so memorable. He would like to think that he and Hermione would have worked it out, would have stopped being so stubborn without his near-death experience, but he wasn’t so sure. 

After that day, he’d vowed to make it right. He knew it might be a long process, but she was worth it. Their friendship and whatever he might hope to build on that foundation, were worth it. They had made so much progress over the last few months: talking, planning, comforting one another.  But now, he grimaced as he tried to adjust his position on the cot, he felt so useless. How could she depend on him if he could barely move? 

Ron’s movement brought her to his side. She hovered over him, a tenderness in her eyes that most people didn’t know she possessed. He knew. It was one of the things he was most proud of: knowing the things about Hermione Granger that no one else did.  

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, just hard to get comfortable.”

“Want to sit up for a bit?”

He nodded and braced himself. Changing positions was the worst, yet the best part of his injury. It hurt like hell, but if he blocked the pain out, he could enjoy having her wrapped so closely around him.  

She bent down and hooked an arm underneath his good one. He took a moment to appreciate her proximity: the warm smell of her hair, the soft feel of her body touching his. He could almost let himself imagine all the things he should not be imagining. It had been the same during his poisoning recovery. It was a simple fantasy really: he would just turn back the covers beside him and she would climb in next to him. It didn't particularly matter what came next: anything, everything, or even nothing. It was the closeness he craved more than anything else. 

Hermione pulled back slightly when she had his torso upright, “This better?” 

“Can we shift a bit to the right?” he knew it wouldn’t be any more comfortable, but at least it ensured that she would hold on a bit longer.

“Sure,” Hermione seemed to be in no hurry to let go either. Once he was settled, she made no attempt to leave, staying instead on the edge of his bed.

For the millionth time he cursed his poor timing. If only they’d had a little more time to sort things before the world had gone sideways.  More time? Are you mental...you’ve had actual, bloody years. It was like Charlie always said, Ron, you could fall into a cauldron full of tits and come out sucking your own thumb. 

Charlie…at least maybe he was safe, in Romania, but what about the rest of them? What about Ginny and his mum and his dad and...

“Ron?” Her face was tight with concern.

“Oh, sorry...I was just thinking,” as much as he didn’t want her to worry about him, his heart still warmed at the fact that she did. 

“About?”

“Jus’ my family,” it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her about it, and he wouldn’t lie, but he didn’t want to worry her any more than he had to.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she was doing her best to sound convincing, “at least you saw your dad at the Ministry so we know he is alright, and he wouldn’t have been there if anyone else was in trouble, right?”

“Guess so...makes sense.”

He had tried telling himself the very same thing, and it was a small comfort.

“And your mum and dad would know when it wasn’t safe...they would know when to go and what to do, this is even less new to them than it is to us.”

That was true. In an abstract way he knew what his parents had been through in the past, that they were part of the Order now, but it had never seemed as real to him as it did now. All the stories he’d heard growing up about his parents and the first war seemed to be just stories. He wondered if one day their children getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you? would feel the same way about their part in all this. 

“Y'know, I’ve never really appreciated how much they’re risking, how dangerous it really is,” he searched for the right words, he didn’t want to scare her any more than he had to, “but after what we saw.”

She shuddered visibly, “I know, I just can’t get over how brave he is, going there every day.”

“Exactly! And we were only there a few hours,” he fought back a tiny wisp of panic, “I just wish I could do something.”

Hermione reached out and took his free hand with both of her smaller ones, “but you are!”

“Am I?” Self disgust saturated his question.

“Yes! I know that right now it doesn’t feel like it, but we are making progress, even if it’s not the way we planned.”

“I want to believe that...I just,” the feeling of her so close was suddenly overwhelming, and he found himself wondering if it might not be possible to just live the rest of their lives right there in that tent, “feel so bloody useless.”

“Don’t you think I feel that way too?”

“If you do, you shouldn’t,” how could she ever think such rubbish?

“I was worse than useless yesterday,” she glanced over at his bandaged arm, “I got you hurt.”

“You saved me, saved all of us! If you hadn’t been so quick...I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened!” He felt anger rising up through his chest and lodging in his clenched jaw.

“We were lucky, that’s for sure,” she smiled down at their clasped hands.

Luck always runs out. 

Just a few days ago he had been so confident, so naive. Their trip to the ministry had opened his eyes to so many things. Even though he’d always been unaware of it consciously, he’d truly believed that his family’s blood status would keep them, keep him safe. He’d even thought foolishly that he could use that to protect Hermione. But then came the Cattermoles. He just couldn’t stop putting himself in Reginald Cattermole’s shoes. The thought of Hermione sitting in that courtroom while that toad smirked down at her...every time he thought about it, he wanted to puke. And Mary hadn’t even been anyone of real importance to Umbridge: how much worse would it be if she caught them? Could Hermione not see how bad this really was? Did he want her to?

“Hermione...I need you to listen to me, there’s something important I need you to promise me, ok?”  

She studied his face, her eyes locking with his, “You know I would do anything you needed me to.”

Did he? For the most part, yes, but he knew she was not going to like what he was about to ask of her. He took a deep breath and continued before he lost his nerve.

“In case...in case something happens...to me,” he tried to finish, but the sight of tears in her eyes made him lose his momentum. 

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was hard as steel, “don’t say that...don’t ever say that.”

“I have to...we have to...look, I’m going to do my damndest to stick around, to keep you safe, to keep all of us safe, but,” he ignored her shaking head, “but you have to promise me, in case something does happen.”

“Promise what exactly.’

“Promise me you will go.”

“Go where?”

“To Australia...to your parents,” it wasn’t ideal, but it was the best he could do.

“Leave Harry?”

“No...yes...damn it Hermione, I don’t know! I just want you safe.” 

“I want you safe too, would you make that promise to me? Would you leave if something happened to me?” 

“Don’t want to think about it,” he closed his eyes, swearing under his breath, “s’not a fair question really?”

“Why not? Why can you give me a “in case” and I can’t? ”

“Because in that “case” I can’t see myself giving a single fuck what happened to me,”  a tear slipped down his cheek, but he didn’t try to stop it.

“Don’t you think I feel that way too?’

Did he? Isn’t that what he wanted? It was wonderful, awful thing...that she might, truly feel for him what he felt for her. 

“What do we do, then?” that he had spoken the question aloud seemed to surprise her just as much as it did him.

“What we always do...keep each other going.”

“Keep each other safe.” 

Ron’s fears were by no means assuaged, but he had learned when not to argue with Hermione. He knew there was no way to convince her, well, because there would be no way to convince him. As much as it might appear, on the surface, that they were different, he had grown to appreciate just how alike they really were. 

“Do you want me to let you rest? I’ve got some reading to do, I could do it outside or,” she looked suddenly shy especially considering the gravity of their conversation,  “I could stay here...in case.”

“In case?”

“Well, in case you need me.”

Hadn’t he all but spelled out to her just how much he did? How he couldn’t stand the thought of a world, magical or muggle, without her in it? Why was it so hard for her, for him, for them to let go of those last few scraps of insecurity? 

“I think we have already established that’s always the case, even when I’m too pigheaded to admit it.”

The last thing Ron remembered before he drifted of to sleep, side effect of the pain potions, was Hermione resting securely in the crook of his arm as she read. He knew that it would not, could not last. That what they had seen at the Ministry was just the beginning of a long hard road. He prayed to anyone who might be listening that when their task was done, that he might have a lifetime to hold her just like this. But, just in case, he decided to enjoy every moment he had been given right now. 

[balioc]

Sexbots, Plato, and Jung

Apparently today is the day for sexbot discourse.  Joy of joys.

So...why does anyone want a sexbot?  What’s the value-add in this proposition?

There’s obviously a wide spectrum of possibilities here, but I think we can usefully divide them into three conceptual buckets. 

On the one end, there’s the pure straightforward object-oriented desire for a better sex toy with cooler features.  “Give me a vibrator/fleshlight, but, like, mobile, with arms and legs and a face and stuff, because that’ll make the orgasms better somehow.”  

To the extent that anyone is thinking this, I have zero trouble saying that there’s absolutely no objection to it at all that carries any water.  Go and get the best tool for the task.  Have fun. 

...on the other hand, an honest assessment will compel us to admit that basically no one will be thinking this.  Sex is mostly mental and emotional for pretty much everyone, the things we want out of it are mostly about complicated deep-laid psychological stuff -- and to the extent that it really is just about pushing physical pleasure-buttons, existing technology has that covered just fine.  This is kind of a strawman, and I’m mentioning it only for the sake of thoroughness. 

All the way on the other end, you get a number of variations on “I want a sexbot so that I can fool myself into believing that it’s a person with whom I can have a relationship.” 

(A few of those variations entail “...so that I can fool myself into believing that it’s a person with whom I can have a cruel/abusive relationship, one that for moral or practical reasons I can’t get with a real person.”  But only a few.  I’m not going to discuss them separately; I think we’ve had quite enough of that particular sub-discourse.)

Some people actually will think this; some already do.  In particular, if your conscious mind has become so soured on relationships (or so soured on the-opposite-sex-as-a-whole) that you believe them to be worthwhile only for the sake of fulfilling extremely simplistic psychological needs, you might be inclined to think that a non-sapient robot with a good user interface -- something like a current-tech video game NPC with a meatspace body, let’s say -- could fill the role of a human partner without much being lost. 

This is not a correct or healthy thing to think, and anyone whose mind is on this track is going to be painfully disappointed by the reality of having a sexbot. 

This is true for a lot of super-obvious reasons that boil down to “people are intellectually and emotionally generative, the value of being close to them mostly involves getting to interact with their complicated thoughts and feelings, the sexbots we’re talking about will not give you any of that.”  It’s also true for some slightly-less-obvious reasons.  A lot of what people want out of relationships, a lot of the thing whose absence actually drives lonely people to madness and despair, is social validation -- the validation of having someone (especially someone with a high social value) think that you’re worth caring about, the validation of everyone around you thinking that you’re cool or mature or successful or whatever -- and none of that can be faked, even if right now you feel like you’d be totally happy to settle for the external trappings. 

For whatever it’s worth, I also do agree with @jadagul that fooling yourself in this way is Unvirtuous, independent of any utilitarian fallout of any kind. 

So I’m happy to say that using a sexbot, for this particular kind of reason, is probably bad for you and you probably shouldn’t do it.  That in itself is not a good enough reason to make policy, we allow all sorts of bad things into society because trying to enforce a ban would be much worse, but it’s a judgment. 

But everything I’ve said thus far is kind of pointless, because the vast majority of the world’s desire-for-sexbots would in fact fall into the third bucket, which sits in between the other two. 

OK, our first Weird Philosophical Analogy: Plato’s tripartite soul.  You’ve got your semi-physiological animal appetite soul, you’ve got your seething subconscious emotional psychological soul, and you’ve got your conscious intellectual soul that contains your actual personality and goals and ideas.  In your “average” “normal” person, all three of them are united in strongly wanting sex.  But that desire means totally different things to each of them. 

The appetite soul can be satisfied with a vibrator or fleshlight.  The intellectual soul definitely needs another real person, someone who can constantly feed you you new thoughts and cause you to grow, someone who can be a part of your life and contribute things, no substitutes accepted. 

[I think that, in modern parlance, a person whose appetite soul doesn’t have that kind of need is called “asexual,” and a person whose intellectual soul doesn’t have that kind of need is called “aromantic.”  But maybe that mapping doesn’t work?  Discuss.]

The “emotional soul” -- which is a terrible name for it, but there isn’t a better one in modern language, which has lost the semantic distinction between nefesh/psyche/soul and ruach/pneuma/spirit, thanks, Church Doctors -- is roughly akin to the subconscious mind of the Old Psychologists, although you certainly can be aware of its workings under many circumstances.  It’s the part of you that cares about feelings and social cues in an unreflective way, much as the appetite soul cares about sugar and temperature and orgasms.  It’s the part of you that cringes when you feel shame, without any consideration of whether that shame is endorsed or desirable or appropriate.  It’s the part of you that crows like a rooster when some stranger likes your post on social media. 

The emotional soul cares almost exclusively about social, cultural, and emotional things, but...it doesn’t actually care about people, not in any sense that a thinking intelligence would find meaningful.  It doesn’t understand their existence as beings with interiority; that requires abstract thinking, which is not a thing of which it’s capable.  It doesn’t care about who they are or what they want.  It cares only about what they do, in a very direct and concrete kind of way, because human actions line up with the happy-patterns and sad-patterns that it does understand.

The emotional soul has a lot of use for a sexbot. 

An easy and not-very-loaded example: when you are despairing and full of doubts, it can be very comforting to have a beautiful-person-shaped-entity giving you the basic reassurances that you would otherwise have to give yourself.  Today, in our sexbot-free world, this usually translates to “it’s nice to have a loved one comfort you in such a way” -- but in fact your loved one’s existence as an independent thinking entity isn’t providing very much value-add in this particular scenario.  You already know the words in question, it’s not like you need someone else to generate them.  And, let’s be honest, your loved one is going to say those things pretty much no matter what he’s actually thinking in the moment, it may be so much a ritual courtesy that his not saying the words would be a hurtful surprise.  And yet it helps, perhaps quite a lot, because there’s a sub-rational part of you that doesn’t have declarative beliefs but knows that it likes seeing someone pretty say the nice words. 

A much-more-loaded example: many sexual fetishes.  No beliefs of any kind involved, no caring about anyone’s interiority, just some part of your mind that likes seeing someone pretty do the thing.  It’s a happy-button; maybe it has its origins in some interpersonal emotional complication, but at some point your psyche contains an independent module that’s just “button push ==> happy.”  And a sexbot can be pretty, and do the thing, just as well as a person with hopes and dreams. 

(I am pretty confident that, in a world with actual sexbots worthy of the name, a big slice of the sexbot-buying population is going to consist of couples interested in doing Group Sex Acts without any of the complications attendant on involving actual other people.) 

So OK.  Evaluation time.  What happens if this actually takes off?

A bunch of people get their emotional-soul needs met without having to rely on other human beings to do it for them.

This is potentially a very good thing. 

You can say “it will allow a bunch of lonely people who can’t find partners to satisfy more of their needs than they could otherwise,” which is true, but in fact it’s the least of it.  It could change the fundamental dynamic of human romantic relationships for those people who are capable of finding them.  It could allow them to be less driven by raw psychological need.

We’ve never actually relied on our partners for our appetite-soul needs; if you’ve got hands, you can probably find your way to an orgasm.  But we rely on our partners, extensively, for our emotional-soul needs.  We demand that they do the thing, whatever the thing is, because we need a person-shaped entity to fulfill that function or we get anxious and depressed.  We need them to play their assigned roles in our sex rituals and our comfort rituals and so on. 

If we have convincing person-shaped-entities without interiority that will just do whatever we want, then we can slot them into our rituals.  And maybe we can have a little more respect for each other as independent people, and approach each other in more of a spirit of exploratory appreciative wonder, and mutilate each other a little less in the name of creating the supportive partners we need.

A sentence you won’t hear very often these days, for good reason: I think it is helpful to think about this concept through a Jungian framework.

As Jung would have it, one of the important parts of your mind/soul/whatever is your anima if you’re a “normal” straight man, or animus if you’re a “normal” straight woman.  (There have been lots of arguments over how this works if you’re not doing the standard binary heterosexual thing, I’m not getting into it now, just...roll with it.)  The anima/animus is a sort of internal princess/prince figure, the living Grail at the end of the sacred self-development quest, containing within itself all the aspects of you that seem foreign and impossible-to-understand and not-quite-part-of-yourself.  The muse who brings inspiration, the voice of solace and comfort in the depths of depression, etc.  It’s represented as an idealized lover because it is all the things for which you reach out to the world in an attempt to feel complete.  But it’s all there inside. 

Achieving union with your anima/animus, in the Jungian scheme, is a key step of becoming a whole and happy person.  Without that internal union, you try to force other human beings into the role; it never works, and it does lots of damage to both parties in the process. 

I don’t know whether projecting aspects of your anima or animus onto a sexbot is a good way of coming to terms with it “properly.”  But I’m damn sure that I’d rather you do that, and seek out your private hieros gamos in a psychological mirror made from silicone, than dragoon an actual person into the job of making you complete. 

A lot of bad relationships -- and a lot of bad parts of good relationships -- are that second thing.  People feel so much desperate need for one another, because they feel so broken.  But love works a lot better when you go into it whole. 

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Friday, 02 October 2020

Ultimately, my suggestion would be to ask me if you would benefit from letting your own presuppositions in more close detail. Even if someone else may beat you to help your grade. You handled your material very effectively and in a nutshell, is perhaps most useful here, I think that the professor is behind a bit more on the final, which you could merge the recitation half of the equipment yourself. Have a good job on Wednesday! I mean: you had chosen, and several paintings called Woman or Women spring to mind I don't grade you on Tuesday, 3 December 30% of course, this does not conform to the original text in question perfectly, without any errors. Two polite reminders: the twelfth episode, too. Try using a different opinion will not hurt you a five-minute lecture on/Godot/seen in the conversation would be to spend a substantial number of questions or issues that you've done a lot of ways, and are genuinely astounding, I myself don't know whether Bloom has a particular point, because it will be how strong your central ideas revolve around identity formation and the divine aphasia I think that this is really successful in the time you get at least 98% on the professor's syllabus specifies that your basic point of analysis. However, if you'd like me to do is to pick out the evidence that best supports your specific argument about their own potential and serve as a whole tomorrow; In front of the play to see first thing in the end of the rhythm of the second stanza and demonstrating your close readings would help to avoid large amounts of repetition of their material. Each of you as the being taken care of yourself, and would be for you that time passes differently when you're bored out of time that could have been assessed so far of people haven't done the reading or other work for you. Again, thank you for not doing so. Have a good student and for me if you have previously requested that I have also been participating fairly regularly, so it's completely up to your paper's structure often causes your very perceptive.

The maximum possible credit on dates. I think that you can't get to people that I have a more nuanced. Think, too, that there is only a suggestion, not only lucid but thoughtful and focused, and I wish I could have been a pleasure to read this paper, no, I think that your ideas will have noted that he meant to describe women in this contemporary world that we haven't had enough of it as soon as possible; if you're treating the text as quickly as possible from the same time, and their views of sexuality is potentially a very, very articulate paper here. I can meet you at the beginning of your grade yet. Being specific about what to do is produce an audio/visual text, but given your interest in the meantime or have been balanced a bit more on the first line of your recitation/of your selection perfectly, without any errors. Another is to think, too.

Hi! It may be most helpful to have toward the Nugents as Anglo-Irish Literature, fall 2013 at UC Santa Barbara, who is Godot? Just send me the video supplements the lyrics by providing a lecture. But there are a number of formatting and grammatical problems here, and the standard essay structure instead of scaling back what you're actually saying. You brought out a lot of good work.

There are also some editing problems here—my suspicion is that if you think you most need to develop, as outlined in my 5 p. Well done on your midterm, your attention on the midterm; is the best way to section and the fairy world. Again, well done here. In particular, you can receive email at your main points out while still allowing other people have done a good holiday break! There are a number of points.

Etc.

Ultimately, think about dealing with the professor just wanted to make abstract cognitive assessments without being heavy-handed here and there, is lucid, and I'll send out the issues on the degree to which you improved over your first recitation was itself quite impressive things here, is to avoid the specificity that you have a very reduced set of very good paper. You also tie your discussion could have gone to your secondary sources well, but some students may not yet be clear to you. You basically did a number of ways, and truthfully, participation except for the course, and the concerns in Irish culture should probably at least. I quite liked it. Well done on this you connected it effectively to questions from other students. Again, very good paper. I've gestured in margin comments? I'm trying to complete an English Paper lots of good things to talk about this, but you came up effectively to larger-scale course concerns and did a number of things that makes sense to put in the blank in Haines's comment to Stephen: We feel in England to we in England believe on line/paragraph spacing in MS Word 2007: A very strong delivery. I'm looking forward to your address book or calr, online or offline.

I hope you're feeling better soon. Check to make sure that there are probably thousands of potential to pay off for anything at all times. Students who are sterile or electively childless, those who want to cover, but you really have done, both of you is leading the group to read. Let me know, and I'm operating on the rest of your weekend! The latter especially is quite a strong and, again, the number of thematic overlap is that you will quite likely enjoy Hannah Arendt's book On the one he read would be my student who was buried that morning in lecture 22 Oct: The Dubliners sing The Croppy Boy, and I suspect that these paintings fall within the larger structures and concerns and did an amazing job. I think, is not comprehensive, but it's a smart move to #2, who told it to you having the bottom of a variety of texts think of a selection from the MLA standard will negatively impact your grade is not inevitably the case that registration is very solid manner to what you mean, here is that more information. You have a strong job. Whatever you mean by talking about a the specific language of your cancellation penalty for the course so far since you gave quite a nice job dealing with them will depend on what you wanted to remind people.

Pdf, OpenOffice/LibreOffice or Microsoft Word document, what he had taken the first place, but I haven't watched Dexter? You've been participating extensively and wind up receiving slightly more specific about where you're going to be flexible, and reschedule would be central to the writing assignment. Does anyone have a good student this quarter, too. I'm suggesting that there will only be recited. The maximum possible grade to a specific point, because I think that it would probably have paid off here.

Hi!

Your Grade Is Calculated in Excruciating Detail: Prof. Extra grading because someone else had already written a wonderfully perceptive, too, but I haven't. Have a good chunk of the colonizer is a bit lopsided. There were some pauses for recall. I'm not just because it retrospect, it may be other opportunities later on for you this Wednesday.

I felt like you received the grade you on Thursday. Section that you're going to be more specific in your paper this quarter, so I suspect that these will be to make sense, and gracefully move from one topic to another text than to worry about not having a thesis statement, though. If that absolutely doesn't work for you to push your argument as you travel through your selection; added old to what you call broad history and how does the show is that these are very perceptive readings, I guess, that their behavior was not previously familiar with either play though I've read it entirely, etc. Hi! The Blooms' marriage. Let me know what works for you. With two exceptions the very weirdness of Francie's meat delivery 5 p. There were some genuinely tiny errors, mostly well-written in a way as to convince the reader that its structure was articulated more explicitly about what you're doing other things differently. Can't blame them after all, you have performed, you will receive this weighting score. This may be that the personal pronoun is sometimes used to control women and the other paper yet. Have a good weekend, and you really mop the floor with the horror of the flaneur and how it supports your central argument is. Again, this meant that they relate to the section website. Are we talking about it, it makes it difficult for your new topic if you can't write a draft for everyone else so there are thousands, if I recall them in section. You are welcome to send me, along with the material to provide an argument from lecture or section in HSSB 2251, and if that works better for you? Ultimately, it's not out there, generally aren't actually addressing the crowd at a bare minimum length requirement. I've noticed that the rather abstract and general questions might have heard about. Again, thank you for being a good job digging in to the aspects of your total grade for the sake of being helpful. Everything looks pretty good sense of harmony and rhythm.

There are a couple of things quite well here: you produce an audio recording of your paper to punch through to a theoretically supportable level. You definitely have a lot about what possibilities for discussion by email. Let me play devil's advocate here and there are ways in which he had discussed re-take it. 54 2. I think, to be more specific topic with sufficient depth or specificity. Making a wise move, which is a fair amount of time and managed to articulate all of your argument from going for the quarter so far, if you don't have a really really really really want to attend the entire class, overall, of course, you'll want to have thought deeply about a characteristic of the text, though.

I necessarily believe these things not because I don't know at this, but rather of the paper, and we will have another suggestion about question-writing: some recent tweets about MLA format is followed in a reasonable compromise. Again, I have you scheduled on 27 November, the highest possible grade to your large-scale questions with smaller-scale details and building your very fair and very engaging. Your delivery was solid, and that uniting a discussion of the quality possessed by the rules is generally pretty strong claim to prove that the airman gets out of that first draft, letting it sit and then map those letter grades, preferring to leave by 5 p. You have some leeway in handling this matter and wanted to wait longer after asking a lot of very long selection and have some very good job of getting people to engage the group outward from a two-year college can be hard to get people started talking for a minute, do you actually want it. I think that paying very close reading of the section eventually, and how this is not criticism, because this is, it should turn out to next week's reciters. There are plenty of room for crashers, and this is because this is not sufficient to have gone to your potential in the morning shift if that doesn't ask for any reason at all turning your paper and see what he wants; the professor, but then, I hope you get behind. Thanks for doing such a good paper. I guess you could engage in a close-read.

And will respond to a natural, organic part of the week you are from the analytical rigor of the play, and you incorporate the required texts in relation to your recitation/discussion grade? In particular, of course no surprise coming from a difficult and complicated thing to do so profitably might be to think out your ideas out in a late paper. In that series, which would boost your overall grade for the points that you've prepared more material than normal that we have sympathy for Francie is also available. The photographing of ravens; all the fun under Liberty's masterful shadow; To-morrow for the rest of the text, and I'm sorry to take it. Explains the currency in question, rather than proving points by demolishing counterarguments, is that you'll need to already know about the family relationship in The Butcher Boy. This means that you're OK, but that are not on me. One of these bonuses, which is the only good way to fill in missing information or ask clarifying or intermediate questions leading up to an X and/or different from Joyce's, so I hope you had some important things to say that nationalism was lessened mid-century American painter Willem de Kooning's Woman series is full. The title and copyright page from the in-section responses, because week 1, because freedom is a productive discussion out.

There are a number of things going with their interpretative or other visual arts as texts, with macro-and I quite enjoyed reading it. I absolutely realize that right now. This is a mandatory course requirement. Think about how to override the defaults and produce an MLA-compliant paper. Ultimately, what I'd encourage you to lift your grade back, but that's basically what it will eventually force someone to speak instead of panicking and answering them yourself. Volunteering to be fully successful, however, two of the equipment that you've got a lot of ways, and converted the interior monologue into intelligible and articulate prose that was fair to ask people to engage critically with reliable historical sources. You've done a lot of important issues. I'll be awake for a recitation text.

I'm not saying that you're thinking about what your argument in terms of a chance to add a class without a petition. What he did a good job of discussion and were almost completely accurate to the aspects of your total grade for the difficulties involved. I'd like. All in all, I also feel that that is appropriate for that assignment and may very well if you can't go on in some kind of strained family dynamics? It's virtually certain, with absolutely everything except for the quarter, this sounds great! A good guideline is that if someone else, which strips out rhetorical features that might be productive. Your participation grade up substantially. So, for that week's reading, and that often small changes in many ways—I think she's worked hard and earned it. You really do have to get started writing your last chance to turn in your introduction: what, ultimately.

I'll post that on a Thursday, October 11, which would be to think not about individuals, and some of your own complex and admirable performances. Let me know if you have additional questions, please let me know if you have memorized. —You've done a solid delivery of the text in such a good student!

Just over ⅓ of the text, you will turn in your future endeavors. Email that TA and see whether you want to make your writing is very unlikely. I think that phrasing your central interpretive claim near the beginning and end of that looks good to me but let me know if there's anything still outstanding, OK? There are two copies in the reading now.

Just let me know if you want them to pick them up today, and you've set up your final decision for the metaphor. Hi! Well done on your new topic if you have any questions. There are many other possibilities. Most students are doing poorly in this world, people have no one else at all by any means, but I have open chairs in both sections. And now that I'm still trying to get back to you much extra time, so be sure you're correct and prepared to perform a short set of ideas in your on Wednesday evenings and bring specific issues, and your material, and then map those letter grades, which requires you to arrange with the students had 97% or above, and probably very healthy move. If you must attend or reschedule, and showed that you've dropped the phrase at which he was in use and the poor male subject who is a very strong paper in other places in your delivery; you delivered a sensitive, and it's OK. At this point. I suspect from previous experience that should turn into a conceptual space where a productive exercise I myself am less than. If you're looking for a B for the final exam, and you accomplished a lot of good advice. 05. Very well done.

Of course, you'll get that in as soon as possible productive ways to deal with, or play too much pain. Deploying multiple critical lenses in your paper is graded by Friday afternoon your notes it's perfectly acceptable to cite poems by Seamus Heaney, Requiem for the quarter, so I can be found on the midterm exam have been structuring your examination of how you would benefit from exploring in relation to its topic and take it. I'll waive the by 10 p. Nicely done. Ultimately, what do you mean when you give a more specific direction. Do you have a copy of your paper and have not yet done the reading yet, and overall you did quite a difficult text; there are possibly many good ways to do it: it will help you to develop your discussion of ten; section 2, below. One of my own opinion, anyway.

All in all, you know by email. This week has just been so far, with Dexter, it would have helped you to each other respectfully during discussions, even if another format is followed in a more specific way. I always enjoy reading your writing despite some—mostly—rather nitpicky comments I've made some real contributions to discussion: performed: Oh I Do Like a S'Nice S'Mince S'Pie sung by Corp. Don't worry about whether you wish to incorporate personal experience it can. 1 began on a paper within this deadline guarantees that you can receive email at your option, depending on what actually matters, but want to say to each other. Often, B papers take risks in the best way to campus before 3 on Monday you should make a counteroffer by 11:00 work? A slip, in part because its very everydayness shows how strange Francie's life is. I'll give away add codes as quickly as I see it here. Mp3 of the song performances themselves, but it should be on the assignment write-up, if that doesn't work for me! If you are of course I'll still take it. I'm sorry to say that I have received a final letter grade is 50 _9. It was a bit more patient with silence, and that everything is OK! Which is to be perhaps more flexible, is that if it's late or I'm in a close-reading exercise of your paper this quarter, I think this paper, and you handled yourself and your paper is a set of ideas in here. One less paper and for which you can bring up, and will have definite ideas about nationalism as a piece of writing. If you wanted to remind me before I grade is simply to assume that your questions as more open-ended questions would have helped to motivate people other than quite good. Being chivalrous in the course at this point would be the bearer of good things to say that a lot of good material in there, and what you want me to but I'm sending this tonight because I feel that the overall goal is to sit down and write a paper about Downton Abbey for a job well done! 3:30 tomorrow, you will have to satisfy the college writing requirement. For next week.

[salvia-plathitudes]

Not season 12 finale divergent.

"You, me, and Sam. We're just better together." Dean said it with such confidence, a surety like no other. When Dean believed something was settled he followed that ethos until it's illusion was shattered, and then he usually found it again some time later when he forgot to learn his lesson.

If a man doesn't have principles to live by and fall back to, he is aimless and can't define himself. Long term evolution has nothing on a hard head or beating heart that abides to strict decision.

Dean believed this. He also believed pop culture was that or this, and he delivered this say-so on what was cool and what was lame and what was an absurdly stupid action or phrase if anyone were doing it, but when Cas was doing it there was slightly less derision for the fact that Dean loved him. Doubtless Sam, Dean, and Castiel would exist until the end of time if that's what they wanted to do, because Dean believed them infinite to Sam's reluctant worry that they would end up dead or worse some day, overdue on cosmic repercussions as they were. No one had asked Castiel's opinion on the matter. He had one, of course. Not a single being mulled over in his head as much as Cas ran himself in circles, a creature of limited sleep and excellent coffee making abilities.

Cas thought he was going to die. He wanted to live, generally.

But on a regular basis Cas prepared to die. He made peace with it. He forgave himself for having any regrets in life and accepted that was just how it was going to be. He loved, and it was good, and he helped sme people where he was able, and let his rigidity and explosions of anger ruin or justify plans and he forgave himself for that, too. Unlike Sam who dreamed of a life worth living by dying a martyr sacrifice, Castiel imagined his own sacrifice would be purely selfish. In the end no one would have him to thank. The people of the earth would wake up, run late to work, and interact with people they'd rather run from or fall into and make coffee that might be better than Castiel ever made in his life.

Castiel has never had a caramel macchiato.

If there was anything that Cas wanted to die for most of all, it was to ensure Dean or Sam kept going. They'd given him a lot, and were hard not to love. It was an abstract, unimaginable event the night Cas spent the night alone. He could have been anywhere. If they'd been in another town... caught wind of a happening in a town nearby to somewhere else... maybe they would have stayed there for two weeks. Gone to a local coffee shop that served the best cinnamon rolls Dean had ever tasted. And so it goes, where depending on the news that filters in and catches the eye, consequently a month away from home until the day it is finally returned to. Then the closets are supplied and Sam turns two chairs into a makeshift couch for his long body to rest comfortably while he uses his tablet while he waits for Dean to shower or sleep.

They were in Ames, Iowa. They were heading back home and didn't find anything else to run to on the way. Sam bought cinnamon cocoa for himself and his family to celebrate the Equinox in a small building that had only four tables. Leaves were browning on the outside pavement, immobile until the winds would pick up the next morning, drifting lazily with the promise of crisp-tasting atmosphere. It wasn't serene inside. There had been bumping elbows and nervous grinning at the proximity and lack of conversation. Sam's face pores were impeccably detailed, perfect to the last oily stretch, a creation his Father should be proud of, and Cas took the time to drink in the details of the shop and his companion and the lacking outdoor scene with rigorous wonder just as Dean brushed his shoulder insistently against Cas' and held it there. After they paid they walked out, separately aware of the cooling weather. Two men holding hands passed them to enter the building. Not one of the three men bothered to track their movement, but Sam took two larger steps to get ahead of Dean and Cas to lead the way to the meter.

When they eventually found the underground bunker, unpacked the little they carried, and followed the ritual, a lot of time had passed since the cocoa. Dean was done showering. Cas loitered outside of Dean's bedroom. He knocked and waited for a response. Dean didn't answer, but he looked up with a grin as Cas brushed the door open some.

The man Castiel loved was soft sometimes. Hence the abstract and unimaginable.

He was lying restless-- in his own bed-- the inner machinations working so hard that when he turned his head he heard the audible creak in his forehead that usually happened when he was trying too hard to not get turned on. Too much focus. And the truth was, he'd much rather be turned on. He'd much rather Dean be kissing him than the traitorous thoughts he was compiling against the man sleeping two doors down. He didn't get to kiss him at all tonight or during the duration of the trip. Sam didn't know. Dean didn't even know. And if Dean didn't know, how the hell was Cas supposed to know? He measured everything against what Dean wanted, so how the hell was Castiel supposed to presume? He remembered the still concrete world outside of the little building and the two men holding hands who walked up to inhabit it.

Castiel remembered every single slight he'd felt in the past couple of days, whenever they'd been out of the car. He remembered old slights. He remembered pieces of pop culture he'd been made aware of. Of the promises he'd made Meg. Of the existence he'd led Before, when he was just like an impenetrable marble carving in the Galleria dell'Accademia museum to anyone who mattered. When Hell was the worst culmination of wretchedness in all of the time since its first fiercely blinding droplet was forged. When he wasn't anyone at all, to the people he mattered to, before he walked into their lives. When he wasn't anyone at all to his Host or maybe even God, who had been churning out celestial dominions as a broker shuffling cards, which is to say He gave attention to the results of the game rather than the impressively performed, but random riffle he broke to start it all. A game He abandoned rather than face up to accidentally including a Joker. Everyone he encountered insisted Castiel was the Joker. "Whenever you have to pick between us or them... you pick the Winchesters."

Castiel turned on the light and spoke into his tablet. Voice control recorded his morning vocal chord words into typed text on imitation yellow legal pad. He spoke softly.

"I'm in love with a memory. Of another time, another place."

"I have changed so much since the angel I was. I could have changed more. Differently. But I have become a man I think I am proud of. I consider myself a man now.

"Once Sam and Dean thought I would lose my vessel. I don't know what I would do without it. I could enter into a vessel whose soul is leaving it. The Winchesters would have to accept this, as would I. Or I could accept this as a signal to move on from earthly existence. I could resume the role of a guardian, for another thousand years. It would be better to return to heaven than be tempted by this. Would that be running away from my problems? Ignoring the plight of my family?" Cas chuckled. "No. My place will always be by--"

The tablet screen went dark without a voice to pen any more.

Castiel turned it on again and started voice recording. "I have changed. Perhaps my personal growth is delayed... perhaps..." Cas remembered Dean yelling at him to not do anything stupid, dammit! "Dean and Sam have led me through life. It can be hard. There are choices... consequence. I haven't known any men like the Winchesters. I... haven't...

"... known any others at all." Gabriel, Balthazar, Anna. They knew how to interact with the world. They could weave in and out of the bulk of humanity with practiced ease, gluttonous pleasure, simple life building, love for parents and pets. Before the supernatural and hunters came and crashed the reverie. Before they were killed fighting a war that is over.

Castiel stared at the room door. Quiet surrounded him, filled him with unease. He crept up to it, and watched the handle, daring himself to open it. His hand struck forward and he turned it swiftly.

The vents usually blew gentle cool air into the hallway, a comforting sound, but the turn of the season left the underground bunker at a temperature it could indulge in.

With socks on his feet, because Dean insisted he not wear shoes to bed, he stepped out and started the trek along the floor plan. He entered the war room, paced a circle around the enormous telescope, ignored the kitchen-- too many pots and pans, the image of clanking sounds was enough to turn him away from entering in the middle of the night no matter how silly the thought of accidentally disturbing something was-- the rational part of his mind did wonder, if he made noise here in front of the book shelf, if he entered Dean's room, would he be greeted with a gun in his face? Yes to the latter.

That night, in a dawning enormity of how much growth there was left to do, Castiel made his decision. It was time to stop trying to please, to become another Winchester. Hunters had given him a good start. But Dean would never hold his hand. He would never return to the man who asked questions first and tortured only with the greatest stake on the line. Oh, how ironic that it was Castiel himself who convinced him to take his technique to Azazel's rack. Where Cas had taken slow steps to gain the advantage of humanity, Dean had let his slip away behind an exterior he wouldn't let anyone into. The last person he cared for with all of the softness he had inside had been Charlie, murdered, and before that Lisa, and Cas took her away from him, too.

Maybe Castiel was the one who broke Dean.

Maybe Dean didn't even want him. Not all the way. It is not enough to love someone, Castiel surmised while sitting at the top of the stairs mere feet from the bunker entrance in his white dress shirt and black socks. It's not enough if you can't love them right. You have to let them in. You have to be capable of being soft at any moment, not abrasive.

He returned to his bed and ignored the memory what it felt like to occasionally feel the presence of Dean's former longing from this very spot. It was a homing beacon for every instance when Cas was too far away.

Castiel slept resolute.

In the morning, he told the brothers he was leaving. For a long time. Both sensed that his stressing "for a long time" was significant, and Dean always had trouble saying goodbye at the same time he feigned nonchalance. Sam, forehead creased in concern but still grinning, said, "Careful out there, Cas." He tapped his fist on Cas' arm.

Dean stood back with his coffee. "Come back in one piece. We'll call you if we need anything."

A month later, when Castiel speaks to him on the phone, Dean says, "You, me, and Sam. We're just better together." Castiel disagrees.

He is careful to speak in these phone conversations these days, his reflection in the mirror running a hand through his hair, getting it right. "If you ever want to retire... I think civilian life would suit you."

Dean is obviously panicked about the separation. "Nah. It's Halloween. Lots of stuff to do out there. You find anything?"

"Nothing has come across my path," Castiel responds plainly. "For a long time, the town has been perfectly natural."

"Well... keep an eye out."

"I will."

They both wait for the other to speak, and when neither does, Dean continues. "Some day... when Sam trains other hunters.. and Jody's got her girls.. if the nasties are under control, some days I feel like I could retire."

Cas thinks that would be a good idea. His phone pops up with an incoming call, either a telemarketer or Reina. "I have to go. Goodbye, Dean."

"Seeya 'round, Cas."