#us meeting (parasocially) was Destiny.

[jrueships]

sauce and/or stef for bingo please!!

TWO FOR ONE!!! here's sauce <3333

and diggs!

[lovebot444]

Sweet angel of mine - Ballet!Art AU

I apologize for taking so long, school just started again and so did my social life! But here it is, I hope it’s up to expectation💋

Disclaimer: this is barely proofread, and halfway through the writing I realized I sucked at dialogs. English is not my first language. Read at your own risk!

Warnings: slight stalking/obsession. Cursing. Mentions of porn and masturbation. Patrick just kinda pops up out of nowhere. Writing based on Art’s pov, which is why it kind of belittles him.

Art knew her. They never spoke, she has never even looked his way, but he knew her. He has walked by her classes too many times not to.

Not in a creepy way, no! Ask anyone who knows her just like he does, she’s just too enticing to go by unnoticed. Seriously, it’s almost mythical, she is so inhumanly beautiful that it’s sickening. Back straight and head held high, every aspect of her is set to absolute perfection, in a way that it’s obvious she’s either: A) An Angel or B) A ballerina.

C) Both, was Art’s best guess, because she seemed to lack all ballerinas number one characteristic — the crippling fear of being perceived as anything less than perfect. The type of fear that feeds the need to knock down the competition from the very start, a fear that’s hidden by enough fake confidence to present yourself as a higher being, the fear that keeps them skinny, uptight and miserable.

His Angel was never like that, she was only the good parts of ballet. The class and the beauty, but never the pain. Which is why he didn’t dare to speak to her, she’s just so perfect, he can’t risk tainting her pure clear soul with all his greed and shame — infect her — like the disease he is.

He’s happy just memorizing her class schedule, what time she’ll be at the cafeteria, and the exact way she moves behind the big glass windows of the dance studio. Never unhappy, never bothered. After all, she’s his Angel, and he’s just Art Donaldson.

That changes tho, at a college party. Art never went to parties, he uses all his energy studying for classes and practicing tennis. His friends try dragging him out of that lonely dorm room every goddamn weekend. Art never went to parties, and yet there he was at the rooftop looking for Tashi.

He spots her with her back turned, wearing that same pink top from that night at the hotel. It must’ve been destiny, because when he tapped her shoulder and she turned around, it wasn’t Tashis’s face.

“Hi!”

“Oh! Uhm… sorry, I was looking for Tashi.”

“No way! I’m her roommate!” Art had to fight the urge of blurting out “I know”.

“What’s your name?”

“Uh, Art”

“No way! I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the Art Donaldson.” The Art Donaldson? Not just Art Donaldson, but The Art Donaldson. She knew him, or heard of him… but still! Maybe this one sided, weird, parasocial relationship he has built her wasn’t one sided after all. Maybe she knew all his classes as well , maybe she watched him play like she watched him dance, maybe he’s her angel too…

“Tashi has told me so much about you! I don’t know why she didn’t introduce us sooner…”. Or maybe she’s his friend’s fucking roommate.

And before he could beat himself for being so foolish, she grabbed his hand. She guided him through the party and talked to him like he was worth talking to. Back straight, head held high, the same drill he had watched from afar, but this time is the first time he can watch from up close. He would’ve described her as reachable, except she has already been reached, since she was holding onto him. She told him how she loves Tashi and they get along so well, well enough to share absolutely everything — especially clothes — and he wondered, if one of those rare times Tashi would hug him goodbye after practice, he was actually hugging her.

Eventually they did find Tashi, and only then she lets go of his hand. Art thinks he might come to parties more often, because this evening went better than he could’ve ever imagined. He got to be part the cool kids in their very secluded and exclusive little group, not talking to loud or being to wild, but still being the stars of the evening.

And he got to know her.

From this night on, she would never be just the girl he’s weirdly obsessed with. Now, she’s the girl who loves iced coffe, the girl who’s only at Stanford until she’s good enough for Julliard. She’s the girl who said she was glad to meet him, that said he is funny, and smart, and they should hang out again some time.

Time flies when it’s spent with endless praise, and soon enough, the pink skies turned a deep shade of blue, most people left and the party is now a game of truth or dare with only their friends.

Tashi had left about ten minutes ago to grab more alcohol from the deli nearby. Art had taken his shoes and socks off for refusing to say both what Patrick used to tell him about ballerinas, and what he used to do while listening. And she has been answering pretty invasive questions, refusing to strip since she was only wearing sandals, shorts, and nothing underneath Tashi’s sweater. The others were merely background characters. And of course, Patrick was the asshole who kept making the invasive questions and disgusting dares.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?”

“What’s your porn search history?”

“Common Art, I think she’d like to hear it”

“I dare you to dance on the edge of the rooftop.”

This time, instead of laughter it was awkward silence, everyone froze.

“If you don’t you have to take your shirt off.”

“Get some music playing then.”

What?

“You don’t actually have to do it!”

“Yeah Patrick is just being a jerk!”

Everyone tried to stop her, but she was already sliding out of her sandals and playing classical music on her iPod.

“Oh my God, I was joking, I just wanted you to take your shirt off!”

Now she pushed herself up the edge, standing until the right part played through. She started slow — but not scared — in fact, she seemed as confident and collected as she always did. The parapet of the rooftop was quite thin, and she hopped and twirled from side to side at such a rapid steady pace that everyone just sat still and observed, their mouths agape but with no sound coming through, scared that if they shouted for her to stop they’d distract her and she’d fall.

The tense atmosphere and background music was abrupt by Tashi barging in through the door.

“What the fuck is she doing.”

She sounds angry, the second most scary thing happening right now.

“Performing Kitri’s variation on the edge of a rooftop…” A girl who Art has seen dancing alongside her answered, she too seemed more mesmerized than terrified.

“And why the fuck is nobody stopping her.”

Tashi started shouting for her to stop. Saying how this is stupid and dangerous and she’s completely insane. As the music intensified so does the choreography, and suddenly she’s pirouetting all the way until the very edge. Tashi’s demands start sounding more like begs, her voice almost crack when she sees her roommate stop, one centimetre forward and she would’ve fallen.

“That was- the most, stupid fucking thing someone has ever done.” She tries to sound tuff, but her heavy breathing makes it obvious she’s in the verge of crying.

“Not if you know you’re good.” She hops of the parapet, walking towards Tashi, close enough to her face to whisper — “And I am.”

God, Art has never been this fucking hard in his entire life.

[isan0rt]

-OP is standing in front of a conspiracy cork board covered in red string. In the middle is No Name and the gazing eye. OP paces, sweating and agitated-

No. Listen. Listen, okay?? Okay. You have this boy, right. He's idealistic. He's part of a set, right, he's got six companions, but he's always kind of apart from them. He's been told he's got a special role to play and he has a hard time connecting with the others because of it. Instead he's got a parasocial relationship to the Dandelion Union leaders he's never actually met. You with me?? You with me??

Okay so there's this boy. He knows Darkness is going to create an apocalypse in the future. It's foretold. The Keyblade with the Gazing Eye will be involved but all he knows yet is that it'll happen, and Darkness will prevail. Right? He knows this is part of his role.

His future self puts him on the path to his destiny, although he doesn't recognize them as himself at the time. He gets put on a path to another world. Darkness comes, and he can do nothing but watch; he manages to save only one black-haired boy.

The Master of Masters tells him what his future role is. He will inherit the Keyblade of the Gazing Eye. He will usher in the Keyblade War. Many will die, but it is necessary. Even if he flinches from it, it has to happen. Only then can Darkness be purged. He has reservations but he accepts it. He clashes with one of his six classmates, who is trying to stop him, and he parts with that classmate there.

-There is a loud banging at the door. OP darts her eyes that way but continues, frenetic-

You with me?? You still with me?? This boy goes on alone. He is alone for a long, long time, thinking only about the mission. He sends a redheaded girl in a pod to another world, for reasons still unclear. He never forgets his parasocial relationship with the Union Leaders. He takes over a new body, continuing his mission. He is so old and alone for so long. He meets the union leaders again but by now he has lost all capacity for empathy. He can no longer connect to other people. He can only see them as tools to use for the mission. It's his role. He is the scapegoat and it's his role-

-The banging intensifies. OP shoves a piece of furniture in front of the door.-

No. Listen. LISTEN. He finds the Union leaders, the only people he expressed still caring about, and he looks them in the face and he lies to them. He uses them. He hollows them out and recruits them to a cult, to make them reenact the traumatic Keyblade War of their youths. It's his role.

Am I talking about Xehanort? Or am I talking about Luxu?

-The door finally gives. People in uniform charge in and seize OP-

No! No! Don't you see?? They're the same! Luxu is the Master of Masters!!! He put his own past self on the path to becoming the self he is as a Master!! Luxu is to Young Xehanort as Master of Masters is to Master Xehanort!! They're the same!! They're the same!! The people have to know-!

-The door slams and the room is empty, except for the cork board...and the gazing eye-

[opartnermine]

putting together some interesting thoughts about the next media focus; normal-person victory fantasy. it’s hitting gaming communities like crack—helldivers, hunt showdown, lethal company, forever winter—and collaborative media like SCP—see the amazing Overlord fan film—and I think it’s starting to show up in books too, though I don’t read enough published fiction to have good examples. movies are the longest dev cycle cause they have to go through all the suits, so we’ll see.

gen z are tired of supermen. much as we grew up on them. and im including stuff like Percy Jackson and Harry Potter (I do genuinely think hp had more influence on the rise of superhero fiction than any comics). stories where the hero and the villain are both larger than life; where someone finds or is granted power and uses it for good by fighting people with similar power who use it for evil. it ties in with the generationally-ingrained helplessness among millenials; they grew up with 9/11 and climate change and being told they’d change the world and the moment they hit adulthood they were simultaneously barred from economic or political relevance, of course they want themself or someone else to be granted sudden fantastical power that they use to fight the unassailable enemy. but gen z are tired of that.

we, much like millennials, grew up in a world where fantastical, unassailable threats are a fact of life. the NSA spies on everyone. social media algorithms and corporate board meetings determine elections. global warming might not be beyond fixing, hypothetically, but fossil fuels companies would topple nations with mercenary armies before letting anyone cut into their profits in the name of saving the planet.

but at the same time, we live in a time of unprecedented democratization of information, and thus of power. random people become celebrities overnight, and existing celebrities post about their daily lives and you see that they’re just people—we talk about parasocial relationships and creepy stans now not because they’re new but because for the first time we’re realizing that’s bad: chappel roan screams at paparazzi and people, generally, aren’t calling her a bitch, they’re saying ‘yeah honestly fair.’ unprecedented genz turnout in the US, inarguably driven by social media given that we don’t watch or read the news, was largely responsible for the unusual Democrat victory in biden’s midterms. a 3d-printed, crowdfunded, gen-z-led revolution in Myanmar has occupied almost a third of the nation’s former borders for months now and seems to be winning.

we don’t feel powerless. gen z’s dream is a bunch of normal people, bolstered by revolutionary changes in technology, communication, social arrangements, trying and maybe succeeding to change things that once felt beyond our comprehension and ability to shift.

of course we love helldivers and warhammer and SCP. of course milsims are taking off in popularity like never before seen. of course destiny fans are begging for grounded, challenging dark ages gameplay, and the remaining Battlefield 1 servers are often set to some degree in hyperrealism mode, and despite community complaints Tarkov is going strong. of course it’s just in recent years that damage-rebalancing mods for Fallout games (making you and enemies able to kill each other near instantly) have spiked in downloads, and Elden ring with its absurdly large bosses failing against odds to squish little old you was such a phenomenon.

of course cries of ‘lisan al gaib’ and other forms of quasi-fictional nationalism rapidly became running jokes; we’re waiting for a cause to step together and put our bodies and minds behind.

that cause might end up being fascism, to be clear. im not saying any of this is inherently good, despite pride shining through my writing here.

but just as superhero media was emergent of millennial helplessness, this small uptick in homegrown, indie stories of ordinary people defeating cosmic powers against all odds really does seem to be predictive of an upcoming media trend, rooted as all mass trends are in the material conditions of contemporary life.

like. maybe im seeing ghosts here. maybe this is just because i absolutely love this stuff. but if you look at the video games in the last years that are doing something new and being loved for it—death stranding, deep rock galactic, shadow of Mordor, helldivers (yes i keep saying it, it’s just the perfect game for this zeitgeist), foxhole, signalis—it’s all this arrangement. no more destiny and overwatch, no more marvel and PJO; people want escapism where they’re just a normal person, or at least they’re just a cog in a far greater machine.

…oh my god it’s the strand type game. kojima thought it would be about connections and stuff—no no no it’s about a regular person doing their job, working with other people like them, and making a real difference against unfathomable, powerful forces. death stranding is literally this, with all the extraneous stuff boiled away, before most of these came out. what the fuck he’s a prophet. lisan al gaib Kojima, show us the way.

[artekai]

Artekai's arc is about getting over his savior complex. That's WHY his arc starts near the end of HZD, when he learns about Takuto. It's literally him looking into a mirror and not liking what he sees. He has such an averse reaction to being called out, to having the destiny he THOUGHT he would have challenged, that he storms off, throwing away everything that ACTUALLY made him who he was. His friends, his love for his homeland, his willingness to help people.

It's unfair, right? Aloy never wanted the weight of the world on her shoulders, so WHY does she get to play savior and he doesn't? Why did the universe pick HER over him? What did she have that he hadn't? Elisabet's DNA?

During HFW, Artekai decides to turn his attention elsewhere, to Far Zenith. Maybe if he can't save the world like Aloy, maybe he can at least help Sylens protect it from Far Zenith, even if it's through horrible means. But then he meets Fross, who's eager to let him play savior with him. And Artekai is like, hey, if I can't be important to the world, maybe I can be important to this one person.

He picks Fross because he feels like a blank slate. He has no idea who Takuto is. He has no idea what the fuck has been going on in Earth over the past 800 years. Artekai can tell him anything and Fross will side with him. He has no contact with GAIA or Aloy or anyone who'll be able to correct him, or tell him who Takuto was.

Fross might be taking control of the relationship and how it progresses, but Artekai is taking control of the flow of information, of the way Fross thinks of him, of what he discloses, when he discloses it, and how. But really, he's playing Fross's game, being who he knows Fross wants him to be in a desperate bid for acceptance and a certain degree of control.

Most importantly, though, Fross is just as lonely as Kai is. He's the one piece that doesn't fit in Far Zenith, just like Kai is the one piece that doesn't fit into the GAIA gang. Fross won't run off into the wilds and cut off all contact and come back having replaced Artekai with newer, better friends, like Aloy did. Kai is the most important person in Fross's life, just like Fross is the most important person in Kai's life. It's only fair.

But, of course, this relationship only works for so long. Fross and Kai are incompatible and destined to break up in every timeline.

Kai is outraged and mortified that Fross lied to him all along, refusing to tell him about Nemesis and instead playing the victim, making himself out to be the "one good Zenith." The one Zenith who never meant for any of this to happen, who's just so so sad and pathetic and wants to start over on Earth, alongside a knight in shining armor that protects him and keeps him safe...

But it's now obvious that Fross never really knew Kai. He just fell in love with the idea of having him.

The perfect tale of forbidden love that Fross had put in Artekai's head now feels like nothing more than a betrayal. In so many ways, this is way worse than what happened with Aloy...

Kai has a habit of thinking of his relationships as fleeting, knowing they never tend to last long as he's always out and about. But he dared to think of his relationship with Aloy and then his relationship Fross as The One that was destined to last, and he got his heart broken for it both times. Will anyone truly love him for who he is? Is it really so selfish to want someone to stay for once?

Anyways. Back to Kai's savior complex.

Where Kai has always been looking to save someone, Fross is used to being the one who is saved (mostly by Tilda...). Most notably, though, he used to look up to Ted Faro as the savior of humanity growing up, and when Ted Faro seemingly betrayed that trust, he refused to acknowledge that he himself was well in his way to becoming just like him. Ted was his Frankenstein, and Fross was his monster. You know how it is with parasocial relationships.

What I mean to say is, Fross puts his whole life in other people's hands and then blames them for not doing more when things inevitably go wrong.

In that way, Fross and Kai complement each other. But Kai saw himself and realized he needed to make a change, while Fross was like "I wonder who that's for," because Fross is a victim, and, therefore, above criticism.

The real question is, once again, how can Artekai fully get over his savior complex when Aloy is still right there proving that what he wants can be done and can be done right? It's obviously not working out for him, but why is he being punished for the same thing that Aloy is being rewarded for? Because of her genes? Is he just not special?

I do think Artekai's Horizon 3 arc should involve him repairing his relationship with Aloy. Tragically, it can never be what it once was (I will be forever heartbroken about this 😔), but it's still an important step for Kai to make peace with her and what happened between them and to come to terms with his feelings about her. And, maybe, if they both COMMUNICATED instead of RUNNING OFF--

Haha, anyways

I get Aloy has protagonist syndrome but her being treated like the specialest girl in the world is throwing a wrench in Artekai's character development 😔 Getting over his savior complex isn't about putting aside his desire to be a savior to protect the real savior instead, but about realizing that the fate of the world shouldn't be dependent on one person.

Guerrilla pls give me more to work with I am asking very niceys 🙏

[roseate7]

I’m too busy today to do the full “hockey tumblr, know thyself” post I want to but hoo boy is an article like this a great thing to find nearly lost amid responses hastening to prove a straight white man innocent. 

Neither Morgan Rielly, nor any male hockey player, is a cinnamon roll. They are none of them “the sweetest and best men” or “undeserving of all this criticism”. The distance to go in dismantling the toxic masculinity and bigotry that male hockey leagues are built upon and building progressivism into the spaces left is depressingly far away. There should be no celebrations because there is barely a baseline in view of anything like equality or inclusivity. 

I have been a fan of Brendan Shanahan since I was a teen and I’ve observed what has jokingly been referred to as his “savior” complex in gradually changing and improving this sport and this league in his post-retirement career. I refer people to his summit and his efforts all the time as a steady sign of a long needed sea change. The fact that Player Safety wasn’t ready for him was a sign in his favor and moving onto one of the biggest hockey markets in the world proved to be poetic in it’s destiny. I love what he and the Burkes have been doing. I’m not cynical without acknowledgement of good and I’m not just a bitter, distrusting old gay. But I don’t give an ounce of good will not specifically and unequivocally earned, and I do not use those instances to spread a general rosy tint of goodwill to everything these men do. Kim Davis has a long, uphill struggle ahead of her and god bless her for admitting it so plainly and not coddling the mostly performative measures taken by men so far.

Kyle Dubas gave a great response but this does not make him a cinnamon roll. I don’t buy into his naivety that officials will give statements and penalties about slurs used on the ice based on inter-league politics. At the time of writing this, Brad Meier was stated by the Leafs as having been in attendance at the investigation with Rielly but Dubas could not say if Meier himself said that he heard the slur. At this time, Meier has made no statement himself. Rielly’s assertion of innocence remains Dubas’ and the club’s first point of intention, as it has been for many of Rielly’s fans and for Leafs’ fans. It is also deeply in the league’s interests that any possible opening for questioning lead to the conclusion that the slur was most importantly not said by Rielly, and not said at all.

I’m far from calling Dubas, Reilly or any of the men involved in this incident and investigation demons or “hating on them”, I’m being an adult talking about other adults based on common sense about men in men’s institutions, no matter how progressive. I’m not babying or presuming good in anyone where long history has taught me exactly otherwise, including recent history. I do this with all of my own favorites, as my own history on a couple of tumblr blogs evidences. 

None of these men deserve anything from progressive fans. If they wish to do right and eventually achieve the right changes in their sport then they should get on with it with no praise and no acknowledgement. It is not our place as marginalized fans to comfort, ease or praise them. When we do, the huge balance of privilege in their favor means that our praise and easing the way merely stalls the process of progress. 

Because self-defense is the way of a people who dominate wealthy and popular spaces. It happens in it’s own way with race and intersectionality in women’s hockey, as has recently been proven to me and a friend in a perfect reflection of white aggression about a white league by white fans. We whites do not react well to being critiqued and corrected along our journey to betterment and inclusivity. We popularly seek out any avenue of escape and self-vindication. So goes the same for straight people to LGBTQ+ people, so goes the same for white women to women of color, so especially goes the same for straight white men in positions of privilege and power. 

And the common cant to that accusation? That we’re being “hated on” or that we are the victims of unfairness and prejudice in turn. Part of how the Leafs handled this instance was good. Other parts? Not so. This is no time for celebration of them, of Rielly, or the league. This should be a sobering wake up call (among many that tumblr hockey fans have received from every corner of the league) that there is no place or corner in this sport where purity and progressivism finds safe home. Who knows when that will happen but certainly not now, certainly not soon. No amount of Pride parades or rainbow tape or tweets or good gestures suggests that. 

You can enjoy players and men’s hockey while being critical and not putting these privileged men above marginalized fans. You should enjoy it and view it that way. I love doing the whole narrative/pretentious shit about certain players and teams. But when they are even rumored to have done wrong, reality comes first. Cold and real and vital.

I don’t know if it’s the parasocial aspect of social media that has led so many marginalized people to wildly administer protected and elevated status to rich men in privileged positions, something I grew up without and a delusion I never shared, but please take this warning to rescind that. Keep your praise and glory for those who are like you and fighting this fight from the inside, and not just as performance or part of a work initiative or even just because a friend or family member is affected. God knows we all don’t get credit for the work we do to move this lumbering society along, so let’s not throw pearls to the already wealthy. 

Morgan Rielly is just a player, like all of them. He is deeply flawed by the system that raised him. He is removed from your intimate knowledge. Enjoy him for what you can know absolutely for sure, and do not elevate him beyond someone you’d meet in your own neighborhood. When something like this happens, strip away your fondness for him and focus on the issue and not on the version of him you’ve developed in an echo chamber of like minded fans.