#you have no idea how deeply traumatic it is to be forced to reveal sensitive information about your past just because a bunch of strangers

[lonelyslutavatar]

From my perspective, the fandom was a lot more chill back in 2019 and early 2020 and it was still (mostly) p chill throughout 2021 but its gotten a lot worse recently? There were really bad times before, don't get me wrong but they were way more spread out. I don't know if its because most of the older fans have left but its sad that your first perceptions of the fandom had to be like this. I hope it dies down soon.

well technically my first impression of the fandom was when Jonny was forced to share a trauma because of some backlash and that was before i really got into tma

[alien-magnolia]

Ani. <3

Anakin skywalker (dom-coded) + fem!reader (sub-coded) use of the force in certain <3 ways, night terrors, hurt/comfort, angst, ani shows you his strength! (Size kink) soft and then rough -ish sex, crying, etc (daddy!issues, sorry I had to)

You wake up, shaking. You had that dream again. The one about how your father died. You missed him a lot, especially since he had passed away such a long time ago — for half your life, he was gone. You were lost when your father died. Did not know what to do with yourself. You got yourself in trouble with some slave traders on Tattooine — you were theirs for a week or so: until some Jedi saved you. That Jedi, just happened to be Anakin Skywalker, who then took you under his wing as his padawan. He knew you were force sensitive right away. He convinced the council to personally train you, himself. 

Everything was fine, at first. He was greatly skilled, and you had much to learn from him. Yet you could tell that something was brewing between the two of you. The way his big eyes looked at you, sometimes you felt that when he sparred with you, he was noticing something else besides your technique with your lightsaber.

He revealed how he felt about you, eventually. He told you that you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and that he couldn’t help but devote himself to you from the first moment that he saw you. This is why you were his padawan. Shortly after, you became his woman. After that, his wife. It was a secret marriage, of course, yet you still loved him all the same. You remembered your wedding on Endor, the forest moon shining over the two of you, how beautiful he looked all dressed in black. You felt like the two of you were the only humans in the galaxy. You loved how deeply he loved and cared for you. 

Waking from this dream clearly upset you, and upset him therefore, too. Of course he would notice right away, he was extremely force sensitive, after all. His metal arm feels cool placed on your shoulder. “My love. Are you okay? I can sense fear in you.” “I had that dream again, Ani. It just hurts,” you tell him. 

He knew that dream, all the same. You kept having the dream about how your father died, in an industrial accident on Tattooine — where you were raised. You were only a little girl then, but the pain you felt when you saw how mutilated his body was, was immeasurable. It traumatized you. You relived the moment a lot in your dreams. Your dad always loved you more than your mom — it’s just how it was. Ever since he passed, you couldn’t find anyone to replace his love and care for you. Until now.

“It’s just a dream, sweetheart. It’s in the past. I know you are hurt. Memories are only in your mind. They won’t come to reality. Trust me,” he says, his thumb caressing your cheek, his other hand rubbing circles on your back in an attempt to calm you down. 

You stifle back a sob, he brings you in close to his chest, you listen to his heartbeat and it soothes you. You didn’t want to lose him like you lost your dad. You were so grateful to have someone care for you like that again, to feel special, to feel loved by your husband. It’s a feeling you wouldn’t trade for anything across the galaxy. 

“Your heart rate is still high, my love. Why don’t you try and sleep, hmm?,” he gently chides at you, his big eyes looking down at you in his arms. Anakin was passionate. He loved deeply. Cared deeply. 

“Can’t, Ani. Too tense,” you sigh. You told him that you’d maybe want to take a walk out on the balcony. “Dressed like this?,” he asks, fingers running over your silk nightgown. “Passerby’s might see you. Come. I have a better idea,” he kisses your temple, leads you by the waist back into your bedroom. He decorated the whole room with the moon and stars, things he knew that you loved.

“You are tense. Let me take care of you, sweetheart. Relax,” he softly commands you, and gently pushes you back onto the bed. He’s on top of you, his knee gently pressing into your core, as his hand pries your legs apart. “By the force. You’re so beautiful. My wife. Fuck,” he barely whispers, his thick fingers trail along the soft pillowy part of your thighs. His large hand comes up to cup your cheek, bringing you in for a hot kiss. His soft lips dance with yours, you feel his love through the force as his kiss deepens, you trace the nape of his neck, it’s so warm to the touch <3. He pulls away from you, his lips red and swollen from all the love he’s given you. “You’re an angel. Really,” he breathes, his hands now working to undo your silk nightgown. “Thank the force that you saved me from those slave traders, Ani,” you breathed back, your small hand reaching for his large Jedi robes. Your hand pulls away all of a sudden. A force trick.  “I’m the one taking care of you, no? Hands to yourself, my love. Just rest.” You sigh, and lay your hands to your sides. “Eager, aren’t we? Patience, sweetheart. Patience,” he chides, those emotional eyes staring through you again, as he takes off his robes, his broad, muscular chest and metallic arm shining in the pale moonlight glow. He’s on top of you again, kissing every inch of your body, slowly, smirking as you get more and more flustered. He loves to toy with you ever so gently. He knew that when it came to him, patience was one thing you could not have. You wanted him immediately, and who was he to deny you what you want? He just always loved to stall a little.

His fingers harshly squeeze your breasts, you let out a squeal, and he chuckles, his soft lips coming up to bite the fabric of your bra, and his hands coming over to undo it. As soon as it was off, his mouth was latched onto your nipple, you could tell that he used the force to put as much of your breast into his mouth as he could fit. His hands firmly squeezed your hips as he brought you as close to him as possible. The sound of his plush lips suckling against your soft and sensitive tit were driving you up the wall.

“Ani. Ani. Want more. Please!,” you beg, as the pressure his mouth is putting on you making you wetter and wetter by the minute. You attempt to squeeze your legs together for a semblance of relief. You feel his hand stop you. “Angel. Don’t interrupt me until I get my fill, hmm?,” he paused for a second, gripping your cheek, his hand a little rougher this time. You started to cry, tears slowly dripping down your cheeks. “Aww. Is my girl upset?,” he taunts you, a somewhat sinister smile could be seen from his place in between your tits. “Hurts!,” you cry out, tears streaming down your face faster. You feel his length grow, harder, thicker, it was pressing into your thigh at this point. Your crying made him thirst for you even more.

He continues on your chest, your body now covered in red marks, wet with his spit. He moves down to your stomach, your hips, pausing to take his time there. He finally reaches your sopping cunt, pressing gentle kisses onto your hot core, pausing a minute just to breathe you in. His fingers wipe some of the tears off your face. “So cute when you’re upset. Want more?,” he asks. You nod, sniffling. Without a second doubt, he dives in, practically attached to your core, making a meal of it as he does. You squirm in an attempt to get away from his lips, but his strong hands hold down your thighs, he holds you down so much that you can barely move, his metal hand making painful indents in your thighs!! 

You squeal and squirm beneath him, and he only emits that low, low chuckle that drives you insane, as he keeps his ministrations on your clit <3 harsher and harsher by the second, until you come on his face, covering his perfect cheeks, nose, in your cum. 

“Fuck. Angel. So good. You taste as sweet as you look,” he patronizes you as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. “Up, come on, now,” he chided at you, bringing you to your feet, he knew you could barely stand from what he already gave you, yet the man was not satisfied. He loved his wife too much, and he had to give every single inch and centimeter of her body <3 the love it deserved. 

His hands grip your hips like a vice, pushing you against the wall, your body caged between his strong arms. “My wife,” he sighs, his metal hand feeling cool against your cheek as he grips your face gently, pulling you into the trap of his kisses. At this point, almost your entire body was covered in marks. His other hand trails down to cup and squeeze your wet cunt, and you almost stumble over from the pressure he’s putting on it. 

“The force made you so strong, Ani,” you moan out, in between kisses. ”Haven’t seen it all yet, sweetheart,” he huffs, spinning you around so your chest is against the wall, faster than you can blink. You feel his hard and hot bulge press against you, his soft lips come up to press a few kisses on your ear, and he gives you a little bite there <3. “Ani!! More,” you whine, incredibly flustered from this act of dominance. His broad chest presses against your back, as you hear him shuffle and take off more of his clothes. “Stay there,” he commands, and then you feel his soft, leaning tip pass through your folds. 

“Just want it in. Ani!,” you beg him. Suddenly you feel pressure on your neck. “Take what you’re given. Tired of your begging, angel,” he states, his face serious and stoic. “Okay, Ani,” you look at him in shock, more tears streaming down your face, taken aback yet satisfied with the show of power he just had over you. You liked it. He knew. 

“That’s my good girl. So beautiful. Stay still now,” he brushes your cheek and turns your face around again. His chest against yours, arms holding your body, you feel him slide in, his cock girthy, throbbing. You loved his size. He was tall and it showed!! 

You feel white hot pleasure, pressure building as he drives his cock into you, faster, faster, to the point where you start to see his hand make a crack in the wall you were pushed up against. You hear his grunts, getting louder by the minute, you feel him bury his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth biting down onto your shoulder. His heavy balls slap against your soft thighs <3 

“Fuck. Angel. Have to. Ah,” — he grunt, and finishes in you. You smiled and squeezed your thighs as you felt his hot seed dripping around your walls. “There you go, beautiful. All better now, hmm?,” he turns you around, the both of you chuckling at the cracked wall behind you. “Yes, Ani. So much better. Thanks to you,” you reply, and wrap your arms around his neck, jumping up to him for a long, chaste, kiss. He returns the kiss gratefully, his big hands smoothing down your sweat covered hair. 

“Come. Let me take you back to our room,” he offers, and as if you were as light as a feather, he carried you back to your shared bedroom, gently laying you down on the satin sheets. “Did you like it? I hope I wasn’t too rough,” he asks you, sheepishly rubbing his hand against the back of his head. “No, Ani. Was great. You always know how to make me feel so much better. So safe,” you confide in him, your hands holding his face, his hands holding yours, as the two of you lay wrapped in those silky, soft, sheets, under the soft glow of the moon. 

“A man should protect his wife, my love. Make her feel safe, loved. Loved in every way,” he whispers to you. You felt as if you and him were the only ones on Coruscant. “You sure know how to do that, Ani. I haven’t had a man that made me feel so loved, ever since my father,” you sniffle. “I don’t care about anything else in this world, you know. Only you.” he brings you in for a long kiss, his hand lifting up your chin. “Come. Sleep now. I am sure you’ll have a good dream,” he moves both of your bodies onto the pillow, and you lay your head on his chest, breathing in his scent, deeply. You fall asleep on him in under a minute, and he looks at you in adoration as he falls into a deep sleep as well.

Author’s note: My first Anakin fic! I fell in love with the whole Star Wars series (but especially him <3, he’s soooo… ugh. I hope i got his personality down nicely. I was thinking of doing a sequel, or prequel to this, something either about how reader and Ani meet, or if they decide to start a family. I wish he had all this with Padme :( . Anyways! Enjoy fellow Ani lovers <3, and comments and reblogs are always welcome!! Don’t we all want a man like him.

[tros-for-dinner]

Like, okay, I need to talk about trauma a second

I’m reading The Body Keeps the Score right now - it’s a pretty comprehensive book about PTSD and trauma, and treatment of trauma-related mental illnesses and, like, I just keep thinking about Kylo (Ben)

In one sentence: Kylo is a deeply traumatized man and I can’t stop thinking about it.

As a general rule I don’t care about the ancillary materials, but “absentee parents” and “being left with droid caretakers that tried to kill him” is trauma - he didn’t have someone to comfort him and his usual caretakers weren’t safe. He probably started acting out, as what happens to kids that go through that. He was also deeply empathetic (metaphorically represented by being strong in the Force) so every lie that was told to him, every time someone feared him because of his ancestors, every time someone tried to use him because of his family - those are all wounds, too. Then, maybe because he was acting out, maybe because he was a deeply religious kid, he goes to live the ascetic life with his beloved Uncle Luke.

And I know this is my own headcanon, but knowing what I now know about trauma: he was still suffering the emotional effects of trauma. The fear, the mistrust, the anxiety, the anger - his fellow Force-sensitive students (and Luke) could feel those emotions. In the Jedi tradition, you either shut that shit down or you’re assumed to be on the road to the Dark Side.

Here’s the problem: the fear, the anxiety, the anger triggered by the pain of trauma can’t just be meditated away. It’s fight/flight instinct; it’s literally the oldest, most sub-conscious part of the brain reacting to the memory of pain and trying to prevent future pain. You can’t control it. You can’t reason with it. You either heal it or it controls you.

Luke can feel that his methods aren’t working but he hasn’t been trained in psychology so he has no idea how to fix this problem. Luke is deeply afraid of the Dark Side, and he was taught that emotions - a deeply-rooted function of the brain - are inherently ‘evil’ and cause self-destruction for the Jedi. Luke has a “all or nothing” “either I do it all or I’m a failure” mindset so he starts feeling despair at the bitter taste of failure. One night, out of pure fear, he takes an uninhibited look into his nephew’s mind (notably, without his consent) and sees how bad things could be in the future. For an instant, he honestly considers killing Ben to prevent that future from happening.

Here’s a question: what would you do if you woke up to a trusted, beloved family member pointing a loaded, safety-off shotgun at you, and you could feel without a doubt that they were definitely ready to kill you?

You would feel abject terror. Wounds from trusted loved ones can be the most painful, and this was a wound that eclipsed every other in Ben’s life. He escapes, and then falls into the hands of Snoke.

(I hate how the ancillary materials totally erased Ben’s agency by making Snoke influence his mind even before he was born. Grooming from a young age? That would have been fine. But as it is, it’s a supernatural element that oversimplifies and makes unbelievable a story that could have been more powerful.)

In my mind, Snoke doesn’t even have to be Force-sensitive: his gift is that he can tell what people wants, and he controls those people by promising what they want (and getting his victims just close enough to what they want so they keep coming back for more).

So he sees Ben and sees the perfect mark: someone who believes they’re inherently a bad person (drowning in shame, an instinct that is extremely self-isolating), enraged with pain, who has been indoctrinated into black-and-white thinking by the culture/religion he grew up in.

Snoke promises Ben 1. respect (i.e. a form of connection in which you don’t have to be vulnerable) and 2. power (which appeals to Ben’s helplessness).

All of us wear different “hats” depending on the situation we’re in: at work, we wear Customer Service or Manager hats. At home, we wear Caregiver or Partner or Roommate hats. Walking out to our cars in the dark, or taking the bus in a bad neighborhood, we might swagger with a Don’t Fuck With Me attitude. We hide or reveal parts of our personality depending on the tools we need in the situation.

Ben creates a persona to hide his shame, protect himself from vulnerability, and deaden the part of his conscience that objects to being part of an organization that is hurting people like his family was hurt. This persona is named Kylo Ren, and it uses the mask and robes like a magic spell to summon the gravitas and influence of his ancestor. But most importantly, the mask and robes shield him from the outside world as protection, but also to hide his shame and any emotions that aren’t ‘acceptable’ (’acceptable’ being anger, mostly).

The thing about shame is that it separates us from the people around us, preventing us from making meaningful connections. This is devastating to the human mind, because humans survive in groups (and our brain evolved to seek groups out). Bringing shame out into the light in the presence of someone you trust is usually enough to exorcise it.

Kylo doesn’t have anyone he can trust, and he is drowning in shame. He is totally isolated and knows he’s nothing but a weapon in Snoke’s hand. Snoke cultivates his shame and isolation because it makes Kylo easy to control. But then, totally by happenstance, Kylo meets Rey.

I hear people talk about ‘the power of love’ and I used to think it was total bullshit. I realize now that’s because visual media usually simplifies ‘love’ into ‘physical attraction’. In reality, love contains a spectrum of elements that are essential to a healthy, functioning mind. Specifically: a place you feel safe (a place where you feel trust, where you feel genuine connection, where you feel wanted, where you feel heard and seen and understood). The entire spectrum of intimacy (emotional, physical, and sexual) spans this need for a place to feel safe and known.

So Kylo meets this girl and a couple of things happen. 1. he realizes he isn’t actually alone. There is someone in the whole of the galaxy who might be his equal. 2. Totally inadvertently, Rey exposes his deepest shame (that he can’t live up to the legacy, that he is hurting himself for nothing) and brings it out into the light.

And, like, all of that would be disrupting enough, but then something even more important happens. See, Snoke built the expectation in Kylo’s mind that if Kylo cut away everyone who loved him, Kylo would be stronger, would be more powerful. Kylo gets the opportunity to cut away his father in the most final way - to kill him - and he takes the opportunity.

As soon as he kills Han - the very second after he ignites his saber - he realizes that Snoke was lying. It didn’t make him more powerful, it just makes things worse.

So while he’s reeling from that realization, his mind instinctively reaches out for connection, for people who might understand. I once read a meta that the Force Skype scenes in TLJ are initiated when Rey feels lonely, which I totally 100% buy into, but I’d suggest the connection happens when both of them are feeling lonely or hurt.

As far as I’m concerned, they bridged their own minds - Snoke took credit because he knew that would be devastating to Ben. Ben and Rey experience emotional intimacy and through their connection, they both start to heal a little from their individual traumas.

I went on a bit of a tangent there but here’s what I’m trying to get to: trauma doesn’t just go away. You don’t just flip a switch, forget about the past, and move on with your life. If you don’t heal, then that trauma and the damage to your brain persists. It takes time and an enduring safe place to heal. So I’m sitting here, trying to imagine what that healing could look like in-universe. And I’m just thinking about the fact that Episode 9 could have been about healing. They gave Rey the gift of healing. The moviemakers had a love story all wrapped up in a bow that could have been a metaphor for the healing power of love. They had all these traumatized characters that could have experienced healing. We, the audience, could have experienced the healing power of catharsis.

And in conclusion, I’m just thinking about Adam Driver performing this incredibly relatable character and TLJ’s Reylo and Luke&Rey plotlines being what they are - and just feeling deep gratitude. 

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I'd like to read your commentary on the closet scene in Hail Mary!

Well ask and you shall receive, friend! (Commentary is bolded.)

I love this scene. Tbh I first wrote the sardines gag into an original fic I wrote in high school and I’m just nostalgic for it. But it is also a really great way to get characters in close quarters together, so... ;)

As it turns out, Adora does find Catra first. She knows her better than anyone, after all, knows how she gravitates towards small, dark, enclosed spaces for a sense of comfort. (Ah, here’s another instance of Catra behaving like a cat but hopefully in a non-distracting way.) Also, there’s the whole thing about how she used to hide in the closet at home when she was scared, or upset after a disciplinary encounter with Ms. Weaver. It was about the only place she could get privacy in that house, sharing a room with two other girls.

Adora remembers hearing her muted whimpers from behind the slatted doors, knocking gently and being yelled at to go away. She remembers sitting down leaning against said doors, guarding the space while Catra collected herself. (A lovely role reversal here!) In the times when she was scared, for good reason, Adora would eventually be torn away by threat or force, Catra would be ripped from her hiding spot, and the screaming would begin. The screaming and…

Adora prefers not to think about those times. She prefers the memories of after the danger had passed when she could just sit there, a comfort to her friend. On rare occasions Catra would not even allow her that, would shout at her until she left the room. Others, she didn’t tell Adora to go away at all, and Adora would crawl into the darkness and find her curled up on the floor, her face stained with tears. Adora would sit silently and take her head into her lap, gently scratching her scalp and stroking her hair, rubbing her back if it was safe to do so. It always calmed Catra down, and it was soothing for Adora too. It helped keep her hands busy and her mind off of what she’d just heard.

Oh hello my poor little traumatized neurodivergent children, stim to your hearts’ content. (And yes, Catra is also neurodivergent in this fic. It’s only been hinted at so far but later it’s revealed that Catra believes she’s ADHD but she never got a chance to get diagnosed because Weaver just saw her as a troublemaker. And because she’s brown many shrinks or social workers would tend to jump to that conclusion too instead of thinking maybe she has a disorder. It’s a little hat tip to the double standards and obstacles to diagnoses that neurodivergent women and POC have to deal with. And you all get to learn that early because you bothered to read this. :D)

Obviously the wave of nostalgia she’s hit by when she finds Catra once again hiding in a closet is not an entirely pleasant one. But she can’t help a small smile either, both at her victory and at seeing Catra’s face. It’s a natural side effect.

“Hey look, I won,” Adora brags when she spies Catra flattened against the wall on one side

Catra shakes her head slightly, amused. “Of course you did.”

Oh wow, I really didn’t hold back on Catra’s subtle resentment, did I?

Pulling the door shut behind her, Adora steps through the thick curtain of garments. Catra actually picked a pretty good spot - there’s a bunch of coats on that side of the closet that obscure her legs, and with how full the closet is it would be easy for someone peeking past the clothes to miss her.

The positioning may be different, the two of them on more or less equal footing and nursing no physical wounds, but Adora can’t shake the sense of awkwardness, her fear that their previous closet rendezvous are all Catra can think about too. (...Out of context this sounds a little bit like they’ve engaged in BDSM in a closet lmao but no, wrong fic.) And the idea of that is unbearable, especially if Catra’s already upset about Scorpia, so Adora takes it upon herself to break the tension.

“Look at us, back in the closet together,” she cracks, poking Catra in the ribs. “Who woulda thought, after all those Pride parades?”

This joke is stupid and I love it.

Catra brushes her hand away with a scoff. “Speak for yourself, I was never in any closet.” Despite her words of protest, she’s smiling a little. Eyeing Adora up and down, she adds, “And you were always like the ultimate sports dyke, so it’s not like people didn’t know about you either. Even if you didn’t figure it out until we met everyone’s favorite MILF.”

I will never let the Huntadora crush die. Tbh this is a little sad though because Catra doesn’t realize it’s always been her for Adora. She doesn’t let it show but she is kinda sad that from her perspective Huntara was Adora’s gay awakening, not her.

Oh, that definitely went a direction Adora didn’t expect. Brow furrowing, she purses her lips as she weighs the cost of the truth, how much she can divulge before it becomes incriminating. Her voice is quiet and eyes are down when she says, “No, I knew.”

It takes a second for Catra to respond. “What, really?”

Slowly lifting her head, Adora raises her eyebrows as she meets Catra’s confused gaze. “Just because I didn’t talk about it doesn’t mean I didn’t know.”

This is such a pivotal moment, just an understated one because it’s from Adora’s POV.  Catra thinks she knows Adora so well, and the idea that Adora not only intentionally kept something (her awareness of her sexuality) from her but was able to fool her is a shot to the ego.

A tiny scoff escapes Catra’s throat, eyes flicking away as her arms fold over her chest. “Never thought you were that good at keeping secrets,” she remarks. Finally she looks back at Adora, gesturing expectantly. “Well? How long have you known?”

Adora frowns in thought. Not because she doesn’t know the answer, but because there’s no casual way to tell your best friend ‘I’ve wanted to marry you since I knew what marriage was.’

I don’t remember what exactly possessed me to write this line, but once it did I knew it was going to murder you all in cold blood. I really enjoyed all the comments about this one. :D

“Always,” is what she says instead. “I mean I didn’t know what it was, but I was always drawn to other girls, always wanted their attention, wanted to be close to them.”

This is such a mood.

Nodding pensively, Catra stares into the darkness. After a moment she murmurs, “Yeah, me too.”

If only she was saying that to what Adora was thinking, not what she said. Because there’s no way Catra could know, right? She’s smart, but she’s not a mindreader. If she was she probably would have kicked Adora out of her room years ago for being a pervert.

Adora she means the exact same thing as you you fucking walnut!

The crack of the bedroom door opening jolts Adora from her thoughts, making her flinch.

“Shit,” she mutters, pushing forward and flattening against the wall, against Catra. In her haste she bounces off the wall slightly and starts to tip backwards, but a pair of quick hands steadies her hips, pulling her closer. Adora’s eyes flick down to find Catra’s already on her, widened in a clear order to be quiet. Adora can barely bring herself to nod apologetically, dazed by the sight. And their proximity. And the scent of sour candies on Catra’s breath.

Because being stuck in a closet together wasn’t taking advantage of the sardines gag enough, I threw this in here. And Adora’s clumsiness provided a great opportunity for Catra to touch her in an intimate way :D. And idk why but the described experience of the smell of the sour candies on top of the close up of Catra’s eyes and them being pressed together is just overwhelming. That sour candies thing gets me every time I read it.

Suppressing the urge to groan, Adora adjusts her positioning and tips her head down so her forehead is resting against the wall, removing that temptation before it can take hold. (Oh right, that’s why it gets me every time.) She breathes deeply, as quietly as possible, praying to god that Catra will interpret her pounding heartbeat as excitement purely from the game. She can feel Catra’s heart hammering against her rib cage too, can hear it echoing in Catra’s jugular mere inches from her ear. Catra’s hands are sweaty where they’ve wound into Adora’s shirt, trembling slightly in anticipation of being caught. Catra may act like she doesn’t care that much about winning and losing, but Adora knows better than anyone just how competitive she is, how wound up she gets.

Oh for fuck’s sakes Adora. I’m glad people asked for Catra’s perspective of this scene because I think confirming in the next chapter that her body was reacting to the exact same thing Adora’s was is valuable. At least a few readers bought into the ‘Catra is competitive/traumatized about hiding in closets’ thing I had going with Adora as an unreliable narrator, so it was probably best to clear it up.

The closet door opens and they both tense, not daring to breathe. The metal hanger hooks screech along the rod as the seeker parts the sea of garments, the sound making Adora wince. The light suddenly flooding their dark space doesn’t help in that regard either. She squeezes her eyes shut with the tiniest little whimper and one of Catra’s hands taps gently against her waist, acknowledging her discomfort and offering solace.

Idk how many people have noticed but I have this running theme of Adora being especially averse to sounds as a sensory sensitivity thing. And the fact that Catra knows and consistently acknowledges it in small ways just makes my heart happy.

In seconds it’s over and the person is closing the closet door, then the bedroom door on their way out. Adora expels as heavy a breath as she dares and whispers, “Phew, that was close.” She starts to pull away and lower her arms from where she’s braced them against the wall, bracketing Catra’s head. (That visual *eyes emoji*) But she doesn’t get very far.

Catra’s arms are locked in place, fingers still clinging to Adora’s shirt. Resting her elbows on Catra’s shoulders, Adora pulls her head back to get a good look at her face. She arches her eyebrows questioningly but Catra’s eyes are fixed firmly on the opposite wall of the closet, refusing to meet hers. Frowning in concern, Adora brushes a thumb over the baby hairs on the back of Catra’s neck. “Catra?”

Still Catra doesn’t respond. Not with words anyway. It’s just a tiny movement, but when her shoulders curl forward into Adora just a little bit, Adora clues in. Sometimes you just need a hug when you’re sad. She gets it.

God damnit. Catra doesn’t want to let go because she’s yearning, not because she’s sad. Why you gotta be like this, Adora? (She says as though she didn’t write it.)

Slowly leaning back in, Adora wraps her arms around Catra’s shoulders. She sighs in relief when she feels Catra respond, relaxing in her grip and slumping slightly to rest her chin on her shoulder. Squeezing a little tighter, she nuzzles into the curve of Catra’s shoulder in response, breathing her in. Catra smells… like Catra. It’s a scent Adora could never quite put a finger on, something uniquely her, but it’s the most comforting smell she knows. It smells like safety, and tenderness, and just a little bit of mischief.

Adora could fall asleep in these arms, in the peace they bring her mind. She has, many times. When they were kids Catra ended up sleeping on her bed more often than not, sprawled half on top of Adora with her head on her chest. Though technically she was usually the one holding Catra, and Catra was often the one seeking comfort, it made Adora feel safer too. It felt a little like Catra was guarding her in the night, and the pressure pinning her to the mattress felt so good. So… secure. They’ve always been better together, perfectly suited to each other’s needs. Adora can't even imagine a life without Catra as her closest companion, and she doesn't want to.

Is that a reference to the torment of canon? Yes, yes it is. Is it also foreshadowing of how agonizing it would be for Adora if she and Catra ever had a falling out? ...maybe.

Absentmindedly brushing her fingers through Catra’s hair, Adora’s pulled out of her head by Catra’s low hum next to her ear. The long lost sound makes her lips turn up. She always used to tease Catra about how she purrs like an actual cat. Not quite, but… it’s nice. It’s soothing.

Rubbing her cheek against Catra’s ear in a similarly feline fashion, Adora chuckles, “Yeah, I miss this too.”

A quiet snort is muffled in her shoulder, Catra’s back puffing out against the arm still slung across her shoulders. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Okay,” says Adora. So she holds her close, and doesn’t say another word.

Maybe this is all she’ll ever get from Catra, holding and comforting her after others have hurt her. But it’s enough. It has to be.

Adora, NO, shut up! She loves you!

Ughhhh well this scene is super cute and super frustrating, both of which want to make me throw things. But that’s very on brand for this fic.

[thepermanentrainpress]

THE PERMANENT RAIN PRESS INTERVIEW WITH MADELEINE SIMS-FEWER AND DUSTY MANCINELLI

Violation is one of the most stirring films we’ve seen over the past year. Since making its world premiere at Toronto International Film Festival last year, the Canadian flick has been busy on the film festival circuit; now available through digital-cinema on TIFF Bell Lightbox, with Vancouver International Film Festival (VIFF) Connect to follow beginning March 26th. 

What inspired the story behind Violation?

We were both dealing with our own personal experiences of trauma at the time, and wanted to make an anti-revenge film that deals with female rage, and emotional and psychological unravelling that trauma gives rise to.

We really wanted to make a revenge film that pushed the boundaries of the genre, challenging the tropes of the scantily clad woman becoming empowered by violent revenge against a menacing stranger, and that revenge is the cathartic climax we are all seeking at the end of the movie. Yes, it is a film about seeking retribution, but also about the cost of that retribution. It is a film about violation, but also about lack of empathy and selfishness, and how both can erode your morality and the relationships around you.

It’s been described as “twisted,” “feminist-minded,” and a “hypnotic horror.” At its core, how would you describe the film’s genre(s)?

Those three descriptors fit perfectly, actually! We weren’t thinking too much about genre when we wrote the script, mostly about the story and about how we portrayed Miriam’s journey. We were inspired by films that don’t sit comfortably in a genre box, like Caché, Fat Girl, Don’t Look Now. Films that are dramas with elements of horror.

When you were writing the script, can you elaborate on the dynamics between the two couples that you wanted to portray – Miriam and Caleb, and Greta and Dylan?

Miriam and Caleb are very much at an impasse in their relationship. The spark has gone out and they don’t know how to reignite it. Instead of doing the work it might take to get through a rough patch Miriam is very much running away. There is a real transience to modern relationships that we wanted to capture in their dynamic - this idea that when the romance is gone the relationship has run its course. Miriam wants to fix it, but doesn’t know how - she clumsily tries to fix it with sex (on her sister’s advice), and this echoes how she tries to fix her trauma too.

Greta and Dylan have a seemingly healthy relationship. But when you look a little deeper their outward affection and codependence masks a deep distrust. Dylan is having his ‘grass is greener’ moment, and he’s totally selfish to the impact this has on those around him. Greta can sense this, but she’s too enamoured by him to risk rocking the boat. It’s all a recipe for tragedy really.

Miriam and Greta have a complex relationship, to say the least. It’s natural to have distance between siblings as they grow older, did you always intend to have a sibling relationship be a centre of your story?

Yes, we always wanted to make a film about a person who suffers sexual assault and is not believed by their sibling. That was one of the first parts of the story that came together. There is so much to unpack in a sibling relationship like theirs. A rich history of mutual failures and resentments as well as so much camaraderie and love. The more painful betrayal in the story comes from Greta, not Dylan.

We wanted to explore the idea of trauma within families, and how abuse and violence affects everyone in the family, not just the person who suffers it. Everything else orbits around these two sisters — Miriam and Greta — as Violation mines the little resentments, commonalities, shared joys and sorrows that weave together a truthful portrait of these women.

A lot of the horror and dread in Violation comes from the way the sisters interact, and in the ways they react to each other from a place of fear. There is no filter in these close sibling relationships (we know this as we both come from big families!) which can be wonderful, but can also lead you to hurt and be hurt in ways that leave permanent emotional scars.

The non-linear editing engages viewers into the story, as do the jarring intercuts with imagery of nature, animals and insects. Tell us about the editing and post-production phase, and what you hoped to accomplish with the progression and symbolism.

The way we have edited Violation is very deliberate. We are forcing you to experience things you might not want to in a very specific way, guiding you through this post traumatic landscape where the past and present are constantly speaking to each other.

We chose to weave two timelines together — the 48 hours leading up to the betrayal and the 48 hours surrounding the act of revenge. This forces the audience to re-contextualize what they have seen, challenging their own opinions of the characters based on what information we choose to reveal and when.

Violation is told completely from Miriam’s perspective — we watch her emotional and psychological unravelling as she struggles desperately to do the right thing. There is a sequence in the middle of the film where we see this act of revenge. There is no dialogue for a long time, we just follow Miriam as she goes through these meticulous actions. And what we realize is that her plan, though well thought-out, is unbelievably emotionally and physically taxing. She’s not prepared, and we watch the real horror of her actions play out through her visceral emotional responses. It was important for us to really force the audience to experience things as Miriam does. The editing is focused and relentless; never letting you stray from her experiences and emotions.

Madeleine, for you, getting to play Miriam and connect with her pain and turbulent emotions through the course of the film, can you share your thoughts on that experience. How did committing to this character challenge you as an actor?

It was the most challenging role I have ever played, and in many ways was absolutely terrifying. I wanted to push myself as far as I could go as an actor and challenge myself to really find the truth of who this woman is, and reveal that to the audience. There are so many quiet moments where Miriam’s journey is so internal, so the challenge there was in truly living each moment as if I was her — getting lost in the role — so that I was not indicating what she was feeling, but living it.

What was it like having Anna, Jesse and Obi as screen partners?

Very liberating. They are all extremely dedicated, layered, engaging performers. They elevated me and challenged me every step of the way. Jesse and I have worked together before, and we have an ease that makes scenes with him very fun. The comfort level we share allows us to really experiment. It was my first time working with Anna and Obi, but it won’t be the last. They are both so open and sensitive that I felt our work was incredibly nuanced.

An overarching question is whether revenge is ever justified. Tell me about Miriam’s mindset, and the struggle between morals, motives and her actions. For you as individuals, is this something that you have had conflict with in your own lives?

In a way we wanted to make a sort of revenge fairy-tale. Fairy tales provide ways for children to think through moral problems, and to wrestle with life’s complexities. They aren’t depictions of reality, but reflect ideas about morality and humanity. We wanted the audience to think about consent, the rippling effects of trauma, how we judge women vs how we judge men, and perhaps consider those things more deeply.

In the end Miriam’s desire to punish those who have wronged her hopefully leaves the audience with a compelling ambiguity to be unpacked as they scrutinize her actions.

Tell us about the trust built between the cast and crew on-set, especially during the more intimate and grim scenes and tense conversations. How do you build that comfort level?

It’s really just about having open, honest conversations. We spent a lot of time with the actors during prep and rehearsals just talking, and building friendships. We are dedicated to creating a comfort level where actors can be completely transparent and open with us, so that when we ask them to go somewhere they know we are there guiding the process and aren’t afraid to take big risks.

To survivors of trauma, what do you hope this movie provides in its story?

We hope to provide a new take on the revenge genre - one that explores rape from a different angle and context - with the focus of the narrative much more on the psychological ramifications of trauma. We aren’t looking to tell anyone what to take away from the film, and we made Violation as much for people with no experience with trauma as for people who understand these murky waters. Really we hope the film sparks thought, discussion, and empathy.

You met at the 2015 TIFF Talent Lab; what drew you together as a filmmaking team? What advice do you have for artists/filmmakers looking for their own collaborators?

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what drew us together - it’s sort of an intangible thing. We developed a very candid friendship that we thought might translate well to a working relationship. Luckily it did!

Shortly after the Talent Lab we decided to work together on two short films, Slap Happy and Woman in Stall. Until directing these shorts neither of us had really had ‘fun ’making a film. Filmmaking was a drive, but it wasn’t a joy. These shorts gave us a totally new perspective, where we actually had a good time workshopping the script, creating a visual style, and just challenging each other. By the time we were making our third short, Chubby, we had decided to officially form a creative partnership.

We definitely approach filmmaking from different perspectives and with complementary strengths, but we don’t say ‘this is your thing and this is mine.’ We work collaboratively on every part of the process, and we built this unique way of working through our shorts, so that when we got the funding to make Violation (through Telefilm’s Talent to Watch program) we already had a solid method that works for us.

In terms of advice it really helps to know how you like to work before looking for a collaborator. Then it’s just about experimenting. It is very much trial and error. Don’t try to force a collaboration that isn’t working for you. There is no shame in a creative relationship not working out. But also it is important to be flexible and open to compromise - that’s how ideas flourish and grow. If you are too rigid then maybe collaboration is not right for you.

Going from short films to your debut feature with Violation, what new challenges did you face and how did you overcome them?

The endurance required to make a feature was something we weren’t prepared for. At about day 3 we turned to each other, totally exhausted, and were like: “there’s 30 more days of this.” It was brutally draining. Honestly every day brought its own unique challenges and problems to overcome, but we had such a strong, supportive team that it made each mountain a little easier to climb.

Aside from yourselves, who are some other up and coming Canadian filmmakers viewers should keep their eyes on?

Grace Glowicki and Ben Petrie are both doing really interesting work. Grace’s film Tito is a disturbingly good character study that builds a terrifying sense of dread. Ben’s short Her Friend Adam is one of our favourites, and he’s about to make his first feature.

Is there anything further you’d like to add or share, perhaps what you are currently working on?

Right now we are writing a slow burning mystery thriller and a twisted dark comedy. That’s about all we can reveal at the moment!

Thank you to Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli for providing us with further insight into Violation! Visit their official website for more information on their projects. 

[ficsinhistory]

We are finally getting close to the debut season of BH6's second season, so I'm going to combine two of my favorite things: Character Analysis and Karmi, one of my favorite characters in the series.

I want to remember here that my intention is not to excuse any negative traits she has, she needs to change and improve, and I do not close my eyes to that, but, she is not pure evil. Remember that in the end, she is a fictional character. No fights, okay?

Come on!

If you just arrived at fandom and do not know who Karmi is, she's a deuteragonist (practically at this point) in the Big Hero 6 series. She was SFIT's youngest prodigy until Hiro arrived. She is described by Disney wiki as: Intelligent, moody, lovesick, envious, sensitive, obsessive, oblivious, what are all truths. But here, I'm going to get deep into what I've been able to perceive in order of appearance, and believe me, there's a lot!

"Issue 188"

Here we have her first appearance, which already gives us some ideas.

At the first contact, we saw that she was pretending and that all the enthusiasm she showed was pretense, and that she was not at all enthusiastic enough to socialize. The one who takes the first remark, she can pretend, but she can not do it for long, and when she does it, her attitude becomes very strange and superficial, being easy to know when Karmi does it (she's so good at pretending as much as Hiro knows how to lie and it was proven that Grandvile did everything to help Karmi, soon she should know of her adverse reaction) so she is not a pathological liar or something, although what she did was not cool and Karmi did not need take such an aggressive attitude.

Then we saw her as normal, doing her job and seeking the least contact with Hiro. Showing that even though she does not like it, she tolerates his presence and things do not seem to walk so bad. We also learn that she loves her viruses, and even treats them as friends. And that shows very interesting things.

Karmi has a very bad socialization. Not only that, she has suffered a lot in the past with this. How I know? Not only because of the fact that the scenes show that usually she does not go to the cafeteria - bringing up the fact that she is reclusive, since she does not even go out to have lunch in public - besides when she questioned that she spoke with Hiro she answered aggressively and exaggerated.

When you first see it, it seems to be just a thick answer to an innocent question, which it was, but, from experience, those words reveal much deeper things. Karmi is on the defensive.

Before, she was calm, but when asked to be "strange" while doing something she loved, she soon replied, exaggeratedly to a seemingly innocent question. This situation shows someone who has probably been so provoked because of her interests that she went so far as to assume that any questioning by someone who is not known to her is a joke or has mean intentions. This is sad and explains a lot, besides Baymax himself saying: "Hiro, you have a strong network of friends. Karmi does not. "Baymax is programmed to recognize the health of a patient not her social, so with a simple contact she may know of with Karmi is isolated, this must have deeply affected her mental and emotional.

Things only get worse when Hiro accidentally kills one of Karmi's viruses, the one with which she has a strong emotional attachment, and Baymax copiously says that was a good thing. There, for me, it's the exact moment when she decides that she does not want Hiro's friendship at all, not only did he take what Gogo said she most prized, how she killed one of her "friends" with his robot saying that this was good while she outplayed how much N5-4 was important to her. (And Hiro did not even apologize, he just said he needed to leave, which, in Karmi's already traumatized head, might sound like he just wanted to get away from the damage he had done without consequences. done before.)

Then we saw her in the cafeteria, which I think is a very cool symbolism, in my opinion.

I like to notice how she is among the stacks of books, as if they were a round about her. For me, that means how much she lifts walls around herself, as well as illustrating well the only environment she feels comfortable with: among her books, research, and viruses. This is painful. She must have been through so much that being alone with no one is better than risking. Which sums it up well in the episode: she does not want to make friends, she does not want Hiro around, she does not want anyone around. Because she does not want friends, she does not want to go through everything that has happened again.

Then we find out that she has a fall on Hero Hiro, which is hilarious and cute, and in the end we have what I find most interesting, Hiro does not talk about how she really treated him. And how she reacts: she is satisfied, confident, happy to maintain a false reputation? Not! It looks like this: 

She is astonished. She did not expect him to say good things about her, even if she had said it before, Karmi obviously had no faith and was probably just to push him away. She does not believe anyone really gave her the benefit of the doubt after all she did. She did not plan everything meticulously to protect her reputation in the end, here I see a girl who tried hard to fend off someone who is equally stubborn in approaching, she was willing to let Grandville know how badly she treated Hiro, and that could change the fact of how Grandville saw her, if it meant she would not have to socialize again. She was counting on him telling her the truth of how she treated him badly! Karmi wanted Hiro to deliver her. She does not believe he really tried to be cool. Here's a link to Ari's review of a specific scene from that episode that I could not do better to close here. 

"Failure Mode"

Here we see the worst of it, honestly. It was boring the whole episode and I recognize it.

She was quite annoying and did not need her to act this way and that to me how much she is flawed. And it was really cool to see the end where Hiro takes a picture of her, giving the change for what she did the whole episode. And what I want to point out is that she can change and that involves ceasing to act as she acted this episode and that we have a way to go and that's okay. Someone can be boring and learn to change, as long as we do not close our eyes to those flaws. Being one of the things I expect, let her apologize to Hiro as she acted before if the writers really want to present a healthy relationship.

"The Impatient Patient"

She appeared little here, but it does not mean that I'm going to stop pointing things out. It is from this episode that comes out this incredible analysis and shows how much Karmi is responsible for their work and safety, draw their own conclusions. In addition to showing how cheerful and agitated she is because of her work, which is cute and shows how much she appreciates her interests. Check

here

. 

"Small Hiro One"

Oh, I love this episode! Mainly because it shows how many layers the character of Karmi has!

(besides showing off cute moments from my ship!)

Here the first appearance of Karmi is as usual, she and Hiro being like elphaba and Glinda, with her disturbing Hiro and vice versa. Karmi can enter the lecture while Hiro is left out because of her age, however, she ends up being expelled early on. After a while out, she sees Hiro and will try to annoy him by saying that she had only take in a clean air when this happens.

This boy says she was lying. Instead of being angry at having been discovered or tried to lie more to not admit anything to the boy who until recently was implying to try to feel better for not being able to enter, she simply decides to tell the truth. When she was exposed, she did not lie, did not get angry or awkward, she looked like this:

Here she seems to be reflecting and pondering her own actions and probably coming to the conclusion that it makes no sense to annoy Hiro if she herself was expelled, something much more humiliating than being barred by age. Karmi here recognizes that he is wrong and that in the end they are in the same boat and that the truth is better. Not only that, she was waiting for Hiro to make any comments, but one that would show empathy. So much so that when he spoke a simple word of solidarity, her face changes completely.

If in "Issue 188" we can see the exact moment when Karmi decided that she would hate Hiro with all her strength for killing N5-4, here I see how the exact moment things could change for the better. She is genuinely touched by the empathy that Hiro showed, and for the first time in the series, she actually smiled at him. So yeah, it's possible these two get on well and she recognizes here how cool he was. She has the most beautiful smile in the series fight me! However, this does not last long and they soon return to normal. The next attitude that Karmi takes catches my attention.

Here, I see one of the cutest things she's done in the whole series. After being expelled, Karmi here tries not to focus on her problem, trying to help Wendy with the children and strives to sing a song about Biology. The most interesting thing here is that she does not seem to have been forced or anything like that, Karmi truly seems to like children and tries to cheer them up, doing the same thing Wendy did when she had her work stolen. This shows an important feature: Even though she was sad and sulky for a while, she did not dwell on it all the time or gave up and went home. She is a prodigy, blessed with incredible intellect and always, ever since the first appearance, wanted to help people. So she searches her viruses for therapeutic uses, studies hard and sings for these children, she wants to help people like Honey, Gogo, Hiro, Wasabi and everyone else, their motivations for study are people. Because she's a good person, though. Karmi does not always make all the right decisions or always acts perfectly, but she is not a heartless soul or something, Karmi is a 16 year old adolescent who does not like Hiro, that does not mean that she is insensitive to everyone  all the time. They say that you know a person by observing what they do when they do not have control of the situation and need to adapt to the environment in extreme situations, and they try to do good by doing good deeds. The point is: just because Karmi does not like Hiro at the moment, does not make it a lost case or is destined to be a villain. This proves how well written she is, because she has nuances!

"Fan Friction"

I always thought this ep should have come before the series timeline, but ... anyway! Here we find that Karmi likes to write fan fictions about Big Hero 6, to the chagrin of Hiro.

First, I would just like to punctuate how important this is on a level of recognition. Let's be honest, we all at some point already write fan fics and see Karmi, a girl of color, doing so, is a good example. Girls of color seeing this and relating is incredible.

Second, I felt personally attacked with this episode, lol!

Well, fan friction was strange in large part because our protagonist was also the protagonist of the stories, so we see everything, in large part, from the perspective of Hiro who as such, was panicked because of it all. And honestly, it was hilarious to see that. And I do not shoot his reason, writing about real people is always delicate. But as I am here analyzing Karmi, I will try to see things from her point of view.

We know that she has a huge passion in Hiro's superhero version, even that is her primary motivation to write, so much so that she was really happy when Momakase thought they really dated. More thinking a lot about the whole episode, I came to a conclusion.

Karmi does not mind writing about real people because she treats them like characters. Let me explain.

Hiro was annoyed, for obvious reasons, however, Karmi does not know that Hiro and "Capitan Cutie" are the same person, so the idea of ​​writing about it does not look so strange and she would expect the heroes of her stories to be people who nor knew it well. Then we saw that she was surprised to discover that Capitan Cutie actually read the story and she asks if he liked it, why? Because as much as she is completely in love with this hero and writes insert fics about it, she never really expected him to read or respond to what she feels. Karmi likes him yes, but she knows how to separate reality from fiction and she does not expect him to fall in love with her either. Because as much as she writes, it's her feelings there, not his. She gets excited about everything that happened and she practically fulfilled her dream, she fancy yes about her great love to match what she feels and wishes he was there, but she knows to separate the real from the non-real, so much that she sees problems in writing about it because she knows it would not happen. Because in the end, she's just an ordinary girl. And that what she feels involves the feelings of another person. (Man, I really want to see when she finds out that Hero Hiro and Hiro are the same person.)

"Big Problem"

Ah yes, the episode! I love it! Here we see that in fact the relationship of Karmi and Hiro is a little better. They are not teasing you so much and all her attention was to something she was projecting. Needless to say it was amazing to watch that, was not it?

The point that called me were several: The first and most important thing I found: She and Hiro do not like each other, but Karmi never did anything that actually harmed Hiro. In every episode, no matter how much she implied with him, it irritated him, she never caused any of these situations that she took advantage of. She did not arrange for Hiro's work to be ruined in the presentation in "Faliure Mode" for example, it was for Hiro to procrastinate that everything went wrong; she did not set up so that the age of the lecture would be for the acclaimed 14, it was Yama. Even when they were forced to work together, it was Grandvile's idea. Karmi, even if he had an affair with Hiro, always had a sense of morals and never sabotaged or threw him dirty, and if you watched cough * ladybug * cough , you know what "rivals" do to stay on top.

Second, we know that Liv is her heroine and that she was very excited to see her. Even so, she knew that Amara had gone to see Hiro, so what did she do? Did you sabotage the meeting, interrupt them, or say bad things about Hiro? No. Even excited, she waited patiently for Liv to finish talking to Hiro, only then did she introduce herself. She did not interrupt or disrupt Hiro's abilities. On the other hand, even knowing how much Karmi was excited about the visit of her heroine and that she did not have many friends and who had finally found someone with whom she had something in common, Hiro could not bear the idea of ​​liking Karmi more and not only interrupted their conversation at lunch, but also tried to steal the spotlight and bring Liv's choice to the personal side. Even knowing that Liv is studying biotechnology and it would be easier for Karmi to have her sympathy, he detracts from Karmi's scientific abilities by saying that everything she does is the worst, out of sheer jealousy! In addition to Karmi's attitude on how she defeated Knox, and I've done a whole review here!

Anyway, in short, Karmi is a flawed character, but that does not make her either evil or a villain. She has good qualities and a perspective of change for the better and her central nature is not essentially evil, cruel or sadistic, in the end she is just another teenager. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Rebloguem and speak if you got, thanks!

[sage-nebula]

Thanks! So they've mentioned a war and Sonic being imprisoned for awhile? Also curious about Shadow's history, as it was alluded he was a villain in the past. And in one of the panels where Sonic was thinking about his infection, it showed outlines in the background suggesting comparable things had happened to him in the past. One seemed to be him turning into a monster, maybe?

So they’ve mentioned a war and Sonic being imprisoned for awhile?

That’s the plot of Sonic Forces. The long and short of it is that the game opens up with Eggman successfully taking over the world and, with the assistance of a jackal named Infinite who had the power of the Phantom Ruby (a gem which allowed him to warp reality), capturing Sonic (though many believed Sonic had died). Sonic was imprisoned and tortured for six months until he managed to escape, and during that time a Resistance was led by Knuckles and Amy against Eggman’s empire. As you can expect, the game ends with Eggman being overthrown (and Infinite being killed, we think).

Also curious about Shadow’s history, as it was alluded he was a villain in the past.

Shadow’s history is … complicated, to say the least, but I will explain it as best I can, haha.

So, fifty years ago, Eggman’s cousin, Maria Robotnik, was suffering from some kind of terminal illness. I think they said it was something along the lines of a degenerating immune system (neuro-immune system?), but the specifics aren’t really gone into very much. As a result of this, their grandfather Dr. Gerald Robotnik, started work on what was known as Project Shadow, a.k.a. the Ultimate Lifeform project. The goal was to create the Ultimate Lifeform, who was immune to all diseases, and then use that DNA to create a cure for Maria’s illness, which otherwise had no cure. Throughout the course of this project, two beings were created: the Biolizard, and the hedgehog we know as Shadow.

Now, I can’t remember if very much was said about the Biolizard’s DNA, only that at the end of Sonic Adventure 2 (the game where Shadow was introduced) it was kinda-sorta believed that the Biolizard may have been the true Ultimate Lifeform. Regardless, Shadow was created with the DNA from an alien known as Black Doom, who as it happens is also evil. But regardless of that, being created from Black Doom’s DNA is, I believe, what makes Shadow the Ultimate Lifeform. Although he has been alive for fifty years (in stasis for most of those years, to be fair), he is only sixteen years old. He’s not immortal (in the sense that he can be killed), but he doesn’t exactly age, either. He is immune to most diseases, and he can use Chaos Control, which allows him to teleport various places. The bracelets he wears on his wrists are inhibitor rings, which keep his power in check, but if he removes those he can also unleash a very powerful Chaos Blast. It takes a lot out of him, though.

Anyway, back when Shadow was created fifty years ago, he formed a very close friendship with Maria. It could be said, truthfully, that she was both his first friend and his only friend at that time. However—and my memory on this is a bit shaky since I haven’t played Sonic Adventure 2 in a long time, so bear with me—during the course of Gerald Robotnik’s research, I believe Project Shadow was defunded by the government, or something along those lines. Gerald was furious, because this of course meant that he wouldn’t be able to create a cure for Maria. So instead he set to work on creating the Eclipse Cannon on Space Colony ARK, which would allow him to decimate planet Earth as revenge, because of course that is the logical next step.

Unfortunately for him (and Maria, and Shadow), his hopes for revenge were in vain. The government found out about his plan and had their military force, G.U.N., storm Space Colony ARK, killing everyone on board … except Shadow, who was sent to safety by Maria, but including Maria herself. Shadow, trapped in an escape pod, could only watch as Maria was shot down by G.U.N. (and keep in mind, Maria was only about 12 - 14 herself, and had absolutely nothing to do with her grandfather’s plans). Right before this happened, Maria told Shadow was that her final wish was for him to protect the people of Earth—to give them a chance to be happy. Then she died, and Shadow was sent off in the capsule, though presumably at some point accosted by G.U.N. and put into stasis.

In any event, the trauma of seeing his first and only and best friend brutally murdered for literally no reason affected Shadow pretty deeply, including warping his memories of that event. As a result, Shadow remembered the promise he made to Maria being one of revenge, which incidentally is the exact opposite of what she actually wanted, but … he was a traumatized teenager who was then thrown into stasis by those very same soldiers, so you can’t really hold that against him too much. Anyway, fifty years after that event, Eggman (i.e. Gerald’s grandson, Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik) busted Shadow out of containment because he’d heard tell of the “Ultimate Lifeform” and wanted to see that himself. Shadow, seeing Eggman as a useful ally in terms of getting his revenge, agreed to help Eggman so long as Eggman could make it to the Space Colony ARK (I think that was the deal, anyway). Shadow himself went and procured a Chaos Emerald, framing Sonic for the deed along the way (since apparently G.U.N. is so incompetent they cannot tell Sonic or Shadow apart—but then again, neither can Amy later in the game, so), and eventually Shadow and Eggman strike a deal to work together officially. The deal, it should be said, is to gather all seven Chaos Emeralds to power the Eclipse Cannon, which they will then use to explode the planet. (Well, Eggman wants to rule the planet; he doesn’t realize that Shadow wants to explode it when they make the deal.) Unfortunately for them, they were spied on by Rouge the Bat, who followed Eggman to the Space Colony ARK after he tried to steal the Master Emerald (and failed because Knuckles shattered it to prevent it being stolen—mind you, Rouge had been in the process of trying to steal it herself). Rouge pretends to be a simple jewel thief to get in on the action, but in reality she’s a G.U.N. agent investigating the Ultimate Lifeform, a.k.a. Shadow. Neither of them realize it at the time.

All that said, the neat thing about Sonic Adventure 2 is that it initially has two story paths you can play: Hero Path, which lets you play as Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles; and Dark Path, which lets you play as Shadow, Eggman, and Rouge. The ending seems different on each, with Dark Path making it seem as though Shadow and Eggman’s plan will succeed, and Hero Path indicating the opposite. But if you beat both paths, a third path—True Path—opens, which shows you the true ending. The Biolizard is revealed, the plan to explode the planet (and the fact that this is now going to be accomplished by the Biolizard crashing Space Colony ARK into it) is revealed, and more importantly, during a time of quiet, Amy gets a chance to talk to Shadow. She inadvertently reminds him of what Maria truly wanted by talking about how everyone on Earth has different goals, but that ultimately they just want to be happy and deserve that chance. As I said, this unlocks the real memory of what happened that tragic night for Shadow, and he rushes off to go help the others stop the impending disaster so that he can do what Maria wanted. He kicks the Biolizard’s ass (which is his way of proving to himself which of them is truly the Ultimate LIfeform), but when the Biolizard transforms into the Final Hazard and starts to forcibly drag the Space Colony ARK toward Earth, he and Sonic use the Chaos Emeralds to activate their Super Forms to fight it in space. This battle results in Shadow sacrificing himself to finally defeat the Final Hazard once and for all, but also falling all the way to Earth from space in the process, his last thoughts being directed at Maria, telling her that he kept his promise to her. Sonic brings one of Shadow’s inhibitor bracelets back to the ARK and gives it to Rouge, and when everyone else has already left, stays in the room a moment long to deliver one final, “Sayonara, Shadow the Hedgehog.” (Yes, he says “sayonara” in the English version as well, just as Maria did; this is not me being a weeb lol.)

Anyway, Shadow was originally going to be Killed Off For Real there, but because of his immense popularity was revealed to have survived the fall to Earth, albeit he had amnesia as a result. Eggman also created some clones or robots of him as well, and that’s all explained in Sonic Heroes … but it’s not really relevant to the comics right now, lol. The important thing is, Shadow was an antagonist bent on the destruction of the world (and several brutal fights with Sonic, including at least one being intended to the death) in Sonic Adventure 2, but he realized the error of his ways at the end and sacrificed himself (everyone thought permanently) to help protect it. This leads to Sonic saying, in response to Rouge asking if Sonic thought Shadow really was the Ultimate Lifeform, “He was what he was—a brave and heroic hedgehog.” Which is part of why Sonic making his quip about how he didn’t think Shadow cared about innocent people in the most recent comic pretty ehhhh, even if it was a joke.

But yeah, those are the most important deals about Shadow. Note that Maria is still a very sensitive spot for him, to the point where, in a Twitter Takeover where the characters were voiced by their current voice actors in the games, Eggman refused to read a question asking Shadow how Maria was doing, and when Sonic started to read it, his response was, “Dear Shadow, how’s Mariauhhh, oh, oh yikes.”  It’s really not a good idea to invoke her name carelessly around him.

And in one of the panels where Sonic was thinking about his infection, it showed outlines in the background suggesting comparable things had happened to him in the past. One seemed to be him turning into a monster, maybe?

That would be the game Sonic Unleashed, where Sonic was turned into a “werehog” at night due to a … curse? Infection? I can’t exactly say for sure since I didn’t play that one, haha, but essentially throughout the game Sonic was himself during the day, and then was a werehog at night, though this was cured / reversed by the end of the game, obviously. I don’t think knowing too much about that particular adventure will be necessary going forward; that was more just a little allusion to game fans to let them know that the events of Unleashed are canon in the comic.

Let me know if there’s anything more you’d like clarified!

[kidslovetoys]

What our children’s art can teach us

All children love to draw and paint, but why do they do it and what can their creations tell us about them? Dr Helen Jones explores the meaning behind the art and explains how to help your child’s creativity flourish:

Table of contents:

Art is personal

Realism vs expression

Modes of expression

The cross disciplinary nature of art: how it teaches us about other subjects

Final word

Art is personal

At the very earliest stages of evolution our forebears were making art. 

In 40,000 BC, creative symbolic artworks were being handcrafted from shell, stone, and primitive paint by homosapiens. But it begs the question: why?

Why has there been an enduring drive, spanning our entire existence, to leave marks, to make our trace in the world, to create?

It is one of the few things which distinguishes us from animals. We have this wonderful yet mysterious power to create distinctly personal and individual remnants of our existence and personality.

Art is a discipline that champions our individualism. It allows us to show and share our experiences of life, without hiding who we are.

‘As we have changed, our art has changed, and how we have defined our art has changed, but that fundamental instinct to play experiment, repurpose, test and reimagine has always been central. Just as play is a deliberate pushing of the boundaries, so art has refused to be solely defined by one idea or one set of people.’ (Michael Rosen.)

We’ve all heard ‘No one is you. That is your superpower.’ As an artist, and head of art, I’d argue that nowhere is this superpower more visible, than in our visual creations.

Art prizes the original. It prizes the unique.

It says if you don’t comply with a conventional norm, then good on you. I love telling children in my lessons, that in art there is no right answer or wrong answer.

Yet very often we can act, even subconsciously, as if there is. Forcing our children into a straightjacket of neat and realistic depictions of reality. 

Parents will ask me why one child can draw so much better than theirs, when perhaps they should be asking why we assume that child’s style of drawing is better.

There is a deeply-entrenched tendency to measure children's drawing by its ‘lifelike’ standards. But as John Matthews suggests in Drawing and Painting: children and visual representation: ‘The idea that the representation of objects is at the heart of drawing is completely wrong.’

Art is a cacophony of ideas, expression and imagination. What would the world be like if it were all logical, realistic drawing? Salvador Dali, Picasso, Pollock, Hirst, not to mention thousands of other artists, would never have dazzled us with their unique ways of seeing.

Perhaps we need to consider representation as ‘re-presentation’. Because as Matthews asserts: ‘what is ‘realistic’ to the child changes with age and context.’ Perhaps it is important to your child to draw you as a humongous, overly tall figure, because to them, you seem much bigger. Thus our adult definition of art doesn’t always align with our child’s way of seeing the world.

What’s more, there are many more forms of drawing than we often realise. Drawing through stitch, drawing in sand, drawing with a sparkler, drawing with wire and so on. Contemporary artists make drawings in all sorts of ways, in non traditional media, with unconventional tools. This allows them to express things they couldn’t have in any other way. 

Realism vs. expression

Simply forcing children to draw from life doesn’t aid artistic expression. We need our children to communicate what they are thinking, imagining and feeling in many languages, verbal, spatial, gestural, musical and visual. We want them to embark on a ‘representational adventure in which meanings are given sounds, actions and images.’ John Matthews

I tell my art students ‘a camera is for capturing a realistic copy of the world around you. Art is for capturing your interpretation of the world and for expressing your unique individuality’. Often this falls on deaf ears, so prevalent are beliefs about the hierarchy of representational depiction. But what is realistic? How do things look really? Unfortunately our fixed assumptions to these questions can, at best, hinder learning possibilities, or at worst, damage our children’s self-efficacy[LINK]. So often children have fallen prey to adults working from a deficit theory - looking for what’s ‘wrong’ or ‘missing’ from their artworks. This can really corrode a child’s confidence, but more than that, it’s not necessarily right.

We unconsciously place realism at the top of the ladder, and all the other steps below it are often relegated as scribbles or ‘nearly corrects’. As children climb this ladder, (often in standardised educational settings), they get less and less opportunity to draw freely. Spontaneous drawing which serves the intentions and interests of children is becoming increasingly hard to find in schools.  According to Matthews,  this is detrimental to children’s emotional and intellectual development, ‘The child's own spontaneous visual representation and expression has been devalued in favour of a fixed, acceptable, cultural standard’

So how can we avoid this?

Perhaps we should spend more time listening to what their drawings tell us. Just as we as adults use hand gestures, facial expressions, tone range and movements as we talk, children use these features in their artwork.  For instance, mark making can represent experiences of hide and seek, people leaving us and coming back into our lives, movement, such as going through tunnels, hiding underneath something, the feel and motion of swimming, and, importantly, it can reconcile traumatic encounters.  Art is a processing of these happenings, through thoughtful gesture and mark making, which is quite different than mere representation. Thus the ‘re-presenting’ might not look like what the child is responding to, but what is occurring is a significant translation of that event.

Modes of expression

Children capture different types of information, often following different intentions or modes of thinking in their work, some of which I have simplified for ease of understanding. 

Intellectual realism.

Sometimes children draw unrecognisable shapes and claim they are a certain person or object. While this may not be realism in the sense we know it, it could be ‘intellectual realism’ in that for the child it represents their internalised view of that object or person.  It shows what the child knows, rather than what the child sees.

Symbolism and representation.

The vast majority of learning is based on signs and symbols, such as language and maths for instance, and even social interaction. Drawing is an idealised way to grasp this nature of symbolism. Discovering that marks on paper can stand for things turns a cornerstone in one's mind - a huge developmental shift.

Emotional.

Art and feelings go hand in hand. Matthews says: ‘Children’s drawing actions are sensitive to fluctuations in mood, both their own and those of people around them. The child imbues drawing with emotion and representational possibilities.’ Perhaps this is why art therapy is so successful - emotions are made tangible as they are inflected on the surface of the paper and the surface of their minds.

Grouping.

Children might group together different types of marks such as dots or dashes or marks at the beginning or end of these lines - separating out their shape vocabulary and becoming adept at matching their actions to shapes. By grouping marks according to type, he is beginning a process of classification. This is the start of maths.

Art as play.

Art can be nothing short of imaginative play. Sometimes there is no intention, other than sheer joy and exploration. I often see children use three-dimensional objects and toys in a similar way to how they use drawing - reconstructing comparable scenes and dealing with related issues. This shows that mark making is tethered to all of our experiences, especially play which has creative overlaps.

The cross disciplinary nature of art: How it teaches us about other subjects

If we listen to our body closely enough we know what it needs. I also believe if we listen to our mind closely enough we know what it needs. And children are no exception, in that they subconsciously know what they need to learn. 

‘The child is constantly, actively, purposely, seeking out those particular experiences which will promote growth.’ John Matthews

Children are always in pursuit of learning, whether they realise it or not. For me, nowhere is this more visible than in their art. It makes their learning observable, and holds the power to teach a range of subjects and disciplines, and to make them fun.

Music and sound.

Listen to your child as they are drawing - what sounds do they make? I’ve seen children blend sounds and drawings together time and time again. My daughter's experiences with music - the tempo, beat, and patterns within the song - form a backdrop to the patterns and pulsating lines she produces.

Body awareness.

‘Proprioceptive’ information about the position of our joints and limbs, balance, posture and stance are heightened in art making. When making with our hands we learn how things move, how our body moves, and how shapes can be coordinated and controlled in a dynamic, swiftly changing format. Although I would argue that not only does art make us more aware of our physical selves, it helps us reveal our inner souls.

Mathematical.

The American professor of maths John De Pillis writes: ‘‘When learners have the opportunity to use their artistic skills and draw scenarios, they can more easily visualize and figure out math problems.’ Angles, geometric shapes, measuring, proportions, ratios of paint to water, scale and perspective are some of the mathematical gifts of art.

Linguistic learning.

Art is a visual language. A universal language, that anyone can speak. We all recognise certain shapes and symbols and know what they represent. Learning the language or art support language learning in all other areas. Being able to speak visually goes hand in hand with general communication.

Science.

Children can grasp some quite unfathomable scientific concepts in their art. For example, by attempting to represent invisible events like wind, music, suction, or showing clouds moving, rain coming down, spilling from a cup, or documenting movement trajectories. They learn how to organise space, time, patterns and sequences of movement which share characteristics with what they see in the outside world. They can translate experiences of crawling through tunnels, pouring liquid through tubes, looking through cardboard rolls, into their art. Children explore and rationalise all this through drawing.

Perspective.

In more sense than one. Children can gain mental perspective on the bigger picture in life, on personal issues and dealing with trauma, as well as exploring physical perspective. As you draw ideas occur, whether that’s how to deal with or respond to a certain situation, or logical constraints such as how things get bigger towards you, and smaller further away. This shouldn’t make sense in the minds of our little young ones, but through art it does.

Final word

Perhaps we need to ask ourselves what we believe is the major endpoint in drawing or painting. And not just to consider the destination but the journey. Realistic drawing is one way of approaching art in a multitude of possibilities.  So let’s stop looking for it as a ‘what’s missing’ from our children's art and encourage some freedom of expression for all.

When I consider my daughter's mark making, I can see that each image is saturated with communication, thinking and emotion. And that, for me, is far more valuable than a ‘picture perfect’ outcome.

from One Hundred Toys - The Blog https://ift.tt/3lXERpP

[its-a-queer-thing]

ICYMI Pt 15--3x07

I frequently read people discussing Mickey and Mandy's relationship, and talking about Milkovich loyalty. While at the core, they are tight-knit siblings, the fact is Mandy does look down on Mickey a lot. She makes fun of him with Ian, which is realistic for siblings, but she makes fun of things that really shouldn't be made fun of...

Look at that shit-eating grin on her face! She looks amused that her father not only abused her brother but even seems smug about the degree of abuse! Now, while I’m outraged about this, I do also have to defend her by reminding myself that in this abusive as fuck household, everything is topsy turvy when it comes to violence. Her reaction is the equivalent of a sibling being smug about their sibling getting a spanking and it’s very disturbing. Discipline in this house I am certain is very extreme, so her desensitization to violence isn’t shocking. What does shock me even further is when she asks

Uhh... You definitely need a reason to pistol-whip someone. Specifically your brother! I know he can be a shit, I know he gets on your nerves, that's siblings... I'm just personally amazed that she would be so dismissive about this degree of violence. 

I guess what she finds amusing is that this has knocked Mickey down a few pegs (we all know he’s got a swagger befitting of a high-running thug and while that cockiness may intimidate some people, I’m sure it annoys her more than anything.) 

Of course this is coming from the same person who downplayed her own incestual rape, trying to convince the Gallaghers that it wasn't a big deal, when in fact it most certainly is. So what she could have thought this was, or if maybe this has happened before (maybe or maybe not with Mickey in particular), we don't know. But clearly, Mandy is desensitized to this level of violence, and is accustomed to justifying and or dismissing things in her life that are really messed up to give herself a sense of security and normalcy that she doesn't actually have. 

It’s unclear if this is the first time Mickey has experienced this level of abuse from Terry (rape aside). Mandy’s response to this seems so commonplace and casual it almost seems as though this type of thing happens frequently, or at least happened consistently enough throughout her childhood that she is now thoroughly desensitized to it. Also Mickey’s fear of Terry which has been so evident throughout the entire series  up to this point gives the impression that Terry has been physically violent with Mickey before, probably multiple times, but I can’t decide if this is the first pistol-whipping in the Milkovich family. Once again, Mandy’s casual response is super disturbing because it hints that maybe this has happened before...

Ian is tracking Mickey down due to a genuine concern for Mickey’s well being. I find this a very sweet display of Ian’s gentle nature and shows how much he does care for Mickey. He recognizes that what Mickey endured was hard and traumatizing.

What Ian doesn’t necessarily understand is exactly what about the attack was traumatizing. Granted, the whole event was traumatizing, but I think Mickey is mostly desensitized to Terry’s usual abuse. What Mickey was unaccustomed to, and so unprepared for, was the sexual assault--which, I don’t even think he or Ian would classify as a “rape” in their minds because many people don’t even believe men can be raped and there isn’t a lot of talk about male rape to open up understanding about it.

Not only do I argue that Mickey was certainly raped due to the scene we witnessed before and the reasons I listed out in my last ICYMI, but I also believe it because of Mickey’s demonstration of rape trauma syndrome symptoms.

People suffering from rape trauma syndrome, and rape specific PTSD, are more likely to physically and emotionally withdraw from their lives, act out in violent or otherwise harmful ways, and do certain things to assert a sense of control. It appears that Mickey is working through his aggression and probably his need for control in his life by shooting his gun. Whereas before he had a seemingly accurate aim, here we see his aim is quite off (or at least it seems to be from where I’m sitting). This is important just to show how out of focus he is right now and how much this experience has truly rocked him.

This moment is really sad for me because he almost looks happy to see Ian, until he remembers what happened. I can see it clearly, like he looked up and his instinctual reaction was to get excited and then what happened flashed behind his eyes and he wasn’t happy anymore. Suddenly, he REALLY didn’t want to talk to Ian anymore.

But it’s not that he won’t want to talk to him forever, and I think Mickey knew that. That’s why he didn’t fight back or tell him to go away. Mickey’s silence, to me, was his way of asking for space without telling him to go away or talking about what happened or promising any sort of future conversation.

I see some people being upset at Ian for trying to push Mickey into talking to him. Something I would like to point out is while Ian has been traumatized to a degree, because he was violently assaulted and forced to witness something very deeply upsetting, in his family he has learned to turn misfortunes into jokes, to dismiss what doesn't work out. It's not necessarily a healthy coping mechanism, but there are some people in my life personally I can say would have reacted similarly. I don't support this coping mechanism, it's deeply insensitive to people who don't have the same coping mechanism and probably unhealthy in general. So I had a similar reaction to Ian making a joke of Mickey's trauma as many people did, I assume, and was very disappointed in the way that he tried to make light of it.

 I think he expected Mickey to be able to bounce back again because as a society we see men as sexual beings that are rearing to go for any sexual attention they can get, and the truth is men are just as capable of being traumatized by sexual assault and rape as women. Also Mickey as a character is a bounce-back kid. He doesn’t dwell long before he, like Ian, gets up and dusts himself off. But this is one experience that Ian can’t sympathize with so he’s expecting Mickey to bounce back from something he doesn’t understand.

I’m not blaming Ian for this unfair expectation because I'd also like to point out that ian's understanding of sexual assault is fuzzy. We see this in season 6 when he's talking about his drug-induced nights at the club, and reveals that sometimes he was unaware of what was being done to him. Instead of getting scared or becoming a victim, he decided to ignore it. I'm not saying that admirably, I think it's terribly unhealthy for Ian to ignore this, but at the same time if he would rather put it behind him and not address it that is his business. My point about Ian's future history with sexual violence, is to show that he really doesn’t understand sexual violence against men and if he doesn’t understand it then he certainly doesn’t know. Also, we don't know how long before season 6 his history with sexual abuse started. We don't know how Ian and Kash got together. While I don't see Kash as an aggressive type, the truth is we have no idea how this started, I'm going to stop there because thinking about that is scaring me, but for all we know Ian was manipulated or seduced and we don’t even know it.

So my point being because Ian has such a casual attitude towards his own experiences with being sexually violated, I believe that he expected Mickey to have a similar mentality, which obviously he does not, and be able to bounce back. 

Further, I think Ian did want things to go back to normal, wanted to believe that this experience would not end them because he does seem to already recognize that he loves Mickey. I think he wanted their normal back so bad that he got frustrated when it didn’t happen, almost like he had already decided in his mind that everything would be the same. I think he also doesn't want Mickey to associate Ian with his trauma and is afraid that Mickey will do that. And that is not to the fault of either Ian or Mickey, it's how the human brain works and getting angry at Mickey was not going to help anything. 

Ian tries reasoning with Mickey, tries being sensitive to his trauma but it doesn’t get him anywhere.

I understand Ian's desperation for things to just bounce back to the way things were. So to the Ian haters I understand why you don't like this moment, because we want to be sensitive to Mickey's trauma, but at the same time due to Ian's experiences with sexual assault and his general mentality of refusing to dwell, as is the Gallagher way, I think explains why he was able to be so casual when talking to Mickey after this and wanting him to acknowledge him.

Mickey is the one guy Ian has really felt for and I argue really relied on emotionally. I’m sure he and Kash and Ned talked about things Ian went through but they are so much older than him, I can’t imagine it being a conversation Ian feels very understood in. Then there’s Mickey who he can vent to and talk to about his family and Mickey will understand because they have similar experiences and they are around the same age so they see the world more similarly. My point being, I feel Ian was afraid of losing his best friend, not just a lover. I think he was afraid that everything they worked for would be lost and in this moment when Mickey refused to look at him, that fear was very, very real.

I have also seen some (but not many) people express irritation at Mickey for ignoring Ian here, but I would really like to point out something that should be obvious. 

Mickey has just endured a huge trauma, he has been violated in so many ways that we don't understand unless we've gone through it. And what I appreciate about this arc, this three episode long arc where Mickey is explicitly demonstrating his RTS symptoms, is that we get to see that men do respond to rape similarly to women, to show that male rape is a real thing, it is traumatising, and it's serious. We need to talk about it because men are not unfeeling beings who are grateful for any kind of sexual attention (which I think our society tries to make both men and women out to be depending on the circumstance.) So right now we're talking about men being looked at as being ready for sex at any time and being happy about sex at any time, and so being incapable of sexual trauma (specifically from a woman), and realizing that this is not the case. It's not only because Mickey is gay, it's because someone touched him and manipulated his body against his will, period. I'm going to stop before I go too much into detail because I didn't put a trigger warning up but what I want to leave you with is a plea to recognize that Mickey is definitely a victim of rape. He has withdrawn himself physically because he's at this abandoned building, and emotionally because he refuses to talk to the one person in his life that he used to be able to talk to; he's lashing out in a controlled yet violent way to release some of what he's feeling-- and he's probably feeling a lot of things; anger, resentment, hurt, confusion, fear, helplessness... We will see later that he turns to alcohol for comfort, we see later that he is sensitive to touch, and that he is more likely to lash out violently in ways that he didn't before-- but as I said I'll get to that in next couple of episodes. 

Ian finally realizes that Mickey isn’t up for talking and leaves. I can only imagine how hurtful this situation must be for both of them so while I understand where Ian haters and Mickey haters are coming from in this, and upcoming, episodes, I just want to remind everyone that this is a REALLY hard situation to put yourself into if you haven’t been through something similar. I personally admire Mickey for finding his space, claiming an isolated space where he can work through his shit in peace, and trying to leave Ian out of it, because we all know what a Mickey backed in a corner looks like, and he knows that’s ugly. I think he is actively trying to avoid any further damage to a relationship he probably still wants, but is now looking less worth it due to what happened. 

And I admire Ian for looking for Mickey to check on him himself since Mandy was of no help. She doesn’t recognize the deep degree of Mickey’s trauma, and Mickey probably puts up a front when he’s home which is another reason he holes himself up here rather than curling up in his room, so his siblings don’t ask and he doesn’t have to tell (or lie). Ian can sometimes be a bit of a dreamer and his poor hopes were shot down in this moment and my heart really goes out to him for it.

That is all I have for 3x07, lovies! Let me know if you agree or disagree with my analysis! And get the full story here!

[centaurrential]

The first.

The nice thing about blogging is that one doesn’t need to follow a strict academic essay structure: the issues and concepts I want to write about are always architectures built upon some underlying causal, foundational plot. It would be nice if we could hyperlink the written representations of our thought processes, but alas, that is one domain in which modern technology has fallen short. You might see that I jump around between topics, but I promise there are connections everywhere. So, here we go!

I’ve been hesitant to write about what ignites my passion the most.  

There are a couple of reasons for this.

For one, save for some semblance of a university degree I attempted to put together years ago, I have little in the way of ‘respectable’ credentials. I rely on my own observations of what is happening around me. A high school friend once revealed to me a technique in visual arts that has stuck with me since. “Draw what you see, not what you know to be there.” I have applied this not only to achieve realism in the scant visual artworks I have produced and which have gone unseen by most others, but also to compose a coherent understanding of my world--or in other words, everything I feel. This “motto” of sorts shows that we often ignore details about our experience that are in plain sight. Despite holding this key, I am well aware that I have not necessarily earned any institutional authority to write on the matters that compel me so--yet, as a person who has simply lived and observed, I still feel that I should express myself, for what ever it may be worth.

Second, though my risk of legal and political persecution in some form or another is not as dire as was obviously the case in the past with established thinkers, I’ve felt compelled to dress my thoughts in verse, marching what I think are critical ideas down the runway, letting the audience gently scrutinize the layers of different conceptual fabrics in motion rather than to place what is thought to be controversial on a podium, open to the personalized savagery of modern “progressive” critique. Misunderstanding is a very real fear of mine as I believe it is one of the greatest tragedies of the human condition. I suppose, as a sensitive person who is deeply emotional and deeply invested in my own thought as a means to a better world, my intent up to now has been to create a buffer of some sort between what I theorize and the ideology-driven hate that tends to characterize Internet culture (which, incidentally now, always carries a ‘social media’ component with it). But I don’t wanna hide anymore.

Something I’ve noticed about that very vehicle for thought is how utterly unforgiving it is. Someone uncovers a person’s past involving a stupid, ignorant mistake along the lines of political incorrectness and suddenly all the good they may have recently put into the world evaporates because there is some sort of twisted expectation of social perfection we’ve adopted--even though there is some overlap between this absolutist, impossible approach to other, equally fallible human beings and the tendency to wax poetic about one’s own cathartic emotional experience, along with a new awareness emerging from the remnants of self-destruction, and forcing ‘compassion’ toward oneself in light of one’s mistakes.

The message is that “I” can learn, but “you” cannot. It seems that people are so volatile these days, they’re ready to pounce without really thinking about what a person is trying to say in earnest. And while I believe that we should work hard at our collective and individual duties to skepticism, I cannot condone, to the furthest reaches of any influence I may have, the deadlock of pseudo-critical thinking when it involves scapegoating and self-righteousness.

I sense (and feel) a lot of (justified) anger, and many well-meaning individuals are looking for a place to which they can direct such intensity. The unfortunate thing is that the fire mutates into hostility toward people who don’t deserve it. Shuffle formless anger into boxes designed to look nicely and glamorously radical, and chuck it at those who--excluding the really terrible people in the world--are honest and serious about answering the questions of “how to achieve the maximum possible distance from pain”, and, “what is, essentially”, and you’ve got a problem on your hands. Nothing is ever as simple as we’d like it to be.

And by the way, I find the dismissive “ok, boomer” attitude reprehensible. Like, OBVIOUSLY there are going to be differences among generations in “opinion” and lifestyles and so on. And obviously past generations have made what we now deem to be ‘mistakes’. But just like any individual who may regret past actions, whether personal or professional, one makes decisions supported by the most convincing reasons they can muster, and so they do the best they can with the knowledge they have at hand, at some particular moment. Maybe some visionaries in the past were able to extrapolate from the contemporary and predict what would happen in the future. Even if their equivalents exist in society today, we will not know for certain the downright traumatizing effects current societal mechanisms could force to manifestation in the years beyond, until they actually become fact. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” And, there is wisdom that only comes through living life. That, I’m afraid, is not up for debate.

I must say this here, now. I realize I’m walking on eggshells with what I’m about to say.  But, while it is clear that there is a significant degree of ‘white privilege’ in North American society, I’d be careful to declare ‘privilege’ an inherently white experience.  It is an historical reality (and is therefore biased). Not all ‘white people’ are the same; and it is CERTAINLY not the case that it has only been ‘white people’ that enforced slavery, for example. And it is definitely true that different members of different religions and different races and different ethnicities and different cultures and different dialects have, historically, perpetuated evil across many axes. Furthermore, I believe that the explicit and intentional denigration of ‘white people’ MADE BY WHITE PEOPLE THEMSELVES is probably one of the greatest expressions of white privilege. How secure must one feel if they can freely diss their ‘own kind’ and know that nothing diabolical will happen to them? We owe justice through opportunity to people we have marginalized, but that is not the way. I just think that people are either willfully ignorant, accidentally ignorant, or have forgotten that all kinds of people can be villains, and further that a truly corrupt person will even torture people with whom they may have a great deal in common.

I tend to think that ‘intersectionality’ is a seriously important concept and is most empirically aligned with individualism. People move around more, cross-cultural contact happens more; global connection ushers cuisine, rituals and traditions, spiritual beliefs, and languages into landscapes that were previously barren of particular social technologies. The result is a person who may have many characteristics sort of in common with others who share those qualities in a scattered manner, but unless one of those forces was exceptionally prominent in the person’s life, the commonality is negligible.

Emergent from this phenomenon is the serious tension between individual self-actualization and the requirements for so-called proper functioning of the broader ‘community’ to which one feels they belong. The needs of each can often be at odds with one another, and it doesn’t appear to be an easy task to resolve this conflict. I do know that sacrifices will have to be made, as there is always a price to pay; I almost think of that as a universal law.

When I was 19 and took a philosophy of feminism class, I started noticing what problems arise when a mode of thinking is assumed to apply to a particular “community” (loosely speaking), just because its members all share some intrinsic quality. In the particular case I’m talking about, it was “being female”. When someone speaks the word ‘feminism’, it is loaded. You have liberal feminism, eco-feminism, radical feminism, third-wave feminism, black feminism, post-colonial feminism, and so on. The relevance of these various types is stretched so thinly throughout the human landscape that one could legitimately wonder why those theories should even be considered to have anything in common. In other words, how can you possibly come up with an ethic of revolution that applies universally to, I dunno, how many billion people in the world? Here’s a situation: women in the West, particularly in the Deep South, are fighting for their choice to have an abortion. Meanwhile, in some parts of India and China, female infanticide is more common than a decent person should like to admit, and that’s not because Indian and Chinese women want it! Asking someone who is thoughtful in ANY respect if they are a feminist is like asking someone if they believe in God, and that is not, nor should it be, an easy question to answer.

To be clear: what I am talking about is definition, and if you break down the etymological components of that word, you see that it is about deciding what sorts of conceptual boundaries must be drawn (the finiteness)--to determine what is included, and also what is excluded. My belief is that it is actually the interplay between those qualities intrinsic to a person and external forces placed upon us that dictate the degrees of self-satisfaction and happiness we experience.

That pain is to be avoided is generally unquestionable, though the finer details of rational action (because I do see the treatment of pain as an issue of rationality, and as something more fundamental to the exercising of rational action than market economics is) are still up for debate. And, I suppose, that is the case for many injustices that an active, voluntarily thinking society wishes to eradicate. I’d like to return to that topic some time in the future, but what concerns me today is the issue of essentialism.

Essentialism has been a problem for philosophers for a really long time. Often it is conceptualized as “what makes something that thing”, but in my view, Essence seems to lie in the realm of the experiential. In one minor paper I wrote for a metaphysics class, I argued (incompletely) that an object’s ‘essence’ could be partly defined by the function one identifies when they come into contact with said object. For example, because even though chairs can be made up of different numbers of legs, or be of different colours, or be upholstered or not, we place them into a category of ‘something to be seated upon’. But then again, there are many things that can be sat upon, and, on the other hand, one does not look at a real life dog and think of it as an object that innately serves a purpose, let alone is built for one.

So why am I talking about what seems to be an obscure and useless topic?

It is the utility of Essence that gives form to our experience. And for those who believe that we erroneously categorize and judge every single damn thing we come across in our lives, go ahead and try to reverse neurological evolution through time of geologic scale. I mean, this mode of existence came to be before we even defined what ‘values’ were.

Tangentially, my introduction to the study of philosophy started with the great divide between ‘rationalism’ (ie. some inherent structure which creates the capacity to ‘know’ already exists in a person at the time of birth) and ‘empiricism’ (the school of thought where a person only collected knowledge through experience after they were born with a ‘blank slate’ of a mind). I never understood why the distinction between rationalism and empiricism was so important, because it seemed so obvious that our system of moving through the world was a combination of the two. We see now that the belief in one to the exclusion of the other is just plain stupid: genetics, epigenetics, logarithmic counting in BABIES, education, debate, and research, all contribute to an individual’s understanding of the world. (It is this idea, too, that contributes to my belief that free will is an illusion [though a helpful one at that] and that ‘luck’ is an epistemological concept. I will also use this idea to, eventually, communicate my argument that astrology is theoretically plausible, but that involves discussing archetypes and the cyclical nature of our known world...) Note: “Epistemology” is the study of knowledge and how we come to accumulate it. I went on this tangent because I think we need to demonstrate a great deal of respect for both pre-existing neurological realities and the staggering potential of science to teach us about our environments and ourselves. There are some core things about us that we would be wrong to ignore, and unforgivably so if the sound science is right there.

We do not typically go through life coming into contact with objects or people and checking off items on a list that comprise criteria for something being what it is (unless, of course, you’re prone to collect little hints as to whether a potential lover loves you back or not.....). To do so would reduce the fluidity with which we interact with externalities. That being said, I can conceive of a time when one goes outside for a cigarette in the night and watches a creature (as I just did) that may be a cat, or that may be a raccoon, cross the road. You peer at this creature for several seconds, up until the point that you conclude, and are certain, that it is, indeed, a cat. It is then that you can move on with your life. Perhaps what helped you to come to this conclusion was a short list of criteria that separate catness from raccoonness. Obviously that would be more efficient than consulting an exhaustive mental list of “cat properties” and comparing it to a similar list, but of “raccoon properties”. But even so, by the time you’ve witnessed the cat/raccoon, you’ve already filtered out any possibility that the creature might be something else, like a stray dog, or a lizard, or a floating chair. In conclusion, I propose here that context is essential to Essence. And Essence is a fully whole sensory experience, insofar as your sensory faculties work. This is why it is so hard to define.

The social relevance of the concept of Essence is becoming more important with the emergence of identity politics, the crises in feminism, “queerness”, the feminine/masculine dichotomy, and even paradigms in psychological health. Inherent to Essence is continuity, and no one can argue against the notion that we rely on general continuity to go about our daily lives.

But out of continuity develops expectation. Expectation is immensely helpful for the reason I laid out above. Additionally, in public, we rely on a common yet tacit understanding that individual members of the public will behave in a way that is safe and appropriate for everyone. The problem is, if you have experienced a good chunk of your life, well into adulthood, having never seen an unfamiliar and idiosyncratic expression of certain properties, why WOULD you do anything else other than fumble in your acceptance that that is the way something is? Your mind scrambles to organize what you are interacting with in the way that makes the most sense.

I was once accused of being an essentialist because of some remark I made referencing biological differences between men and women. I wondered if the dude was joking because I really cannot grasp why someone would think that the differences are trivial. Lately I’ve toyed with the conclusion that there must be something essential, something bounded, about the way we express ourselves, which matches what we are that isn’t seen by absolutely everyone, including exuding femininity or masculinity. If there wasn’t something essential about these “descriptions”, why would anyone make an effort to look a certain way in the first place? Or, why would anyone have a subconscious tendency to adopt certain characteristics? The point I’m trying to make is that communication in the form of appearance is just as important as a verbal explanation of something, and can in fact be more truthful than what is verbally expressed. Whether one wants to admit it or not, you are offering information that allows others to draw conclusions about you. And it’s not that you merely fulfill a checklist of the sort that I mentioned earlier. It is that, often, though not always, each separate quality supports all the others, forming a sort of “mesh-like” coherence. If there wasn’t something essentially feminine that you identified with, or something essentially masculine that you identified with--if these things didn’t matter--there would be no point in going to great lengths to change your appearance to communicate something. (And I think this holds even in the case of the non-binary person.)

Of course, judgments are made all the time about people, which have nothing to do with being transgendered or cisgendered. A person asks you your age. Why? Because they’re collecting information about you and the particulars in the category of “age” should reveal something about you that you’re not stating explicitly. And this information is only grounded in other information the inquirer has about you. And the only reason this information might be reliable is because a consolidation of an individual’s past experiences tells them that a certain age represents an axis of consistency of mentality and/or behaviour. The deductions we make are not always accurate, but if we didn’t instinctively think of this information as important, we wouldn’t seek it!

I will now apply the above problem to sort out why we are in such a mess, socially. First of all, the person is born into expectation of behaviour. That expectation depends on their sex at birth (assuming the person is not intersex), their social, economic, political class, the levels of education their immediate family members have achieved, their spiritual practices, et cetera. It seems to me that feminism arose in the first place because of the particular kind of anticipation of behaviour that swirls around whether you have a testicle-penis or a uterus-vagina combination. The traditionally ‘male’ realm was the unexplored frontier to many women; it was one of excitement, possibility, and opportunity, and arguably more freedom than the domain to which women were typically assigned: the home. Women can produce babies, and if you could produce babies then you SHOULD produce babies, and you should care for them too. And not only that, but by virtue of the fact that you are a mother you can’t even fathom leaving your babies behind. I haven’t yet come across a proper articulation of why this point is so crucial to understand. The women who have the term “TERF” (trans-exclusionary radical feminist) slung at them are attacked by people who don’t understand that this fundamental difference in expectation between female-born individuals and male-born individuals is looming in the background, and how damn well important it really is, because it inevitably shapes a person’s perception of the world and quite possibly the expectations they have of other people! And the perception that falls upon you isn’t just something you can shed on a whim. And also, why are people surprised that this is still an issue? Even as advanced creatures we still succumb to evolutionary forces. I don’t think any reasonable person could say that “you aren’t female even if you feel female”, but it’s not about how you “feel”. It’s about what happens between you and people once they figure out a vital fact about you. It’s about the context in which you, a whole being, operate. You want to talk about oppression? I think your self-identity being misaligned with how other people think you should be is pretty high up there in the ranks.

So, to digress a little: the notion of changing yourself and making an impression on strangers, making a difference in the world, is intoxicating. But we enter dangerous territory when visions of child-rearing and home care become afterthoughts. Child psychologists have identified the age range between 2 and 4 to be particularly crucial in socializing children; it is at that age that they are the most impressionable with regard to how they learn to interact with others. That’s not really a huge window to make sure you ‘get it right’. I think the family unit, whatever its configuration may be, is pretty foundational to the rest of society. While many people presently carry harmful opinions about things we don’t understand, and changing those opinions tends to be rather difficult, the most radical, most powerful thing we can do to initiate reform is to make sure the children we are responsible for grow up valuing honour, kindness, and a sense of duty and justice, not just in relation to themselves and their immediate families, but to society as a whole.

People are throwing tantrums because society hasn’t given itself an overnight makeover. I think that anyone involved in politics understands, either consciously or unconsciously, that even though political institutions and bureaucracies were created by real people, they’ve sort of become fragmented away from human life and are entities of their own, floating above our heads like clouds in the higher atmosphere, and which do not have any readily identifiable boundaries. It appears that the various bodies of legislation and bureaucracies have become so bloody complex in correlation with the complexity of human interaction that they seem almost impossible to disentangle. Furthermore, ideas take a long time to die...if they ever even do.

Rather than viewing child-rearing as a burden, I choose to view it as the greatest responsibility and the greatest tool we have for genuine change. I feel, honestly, that sometimes we waste energy trying to convince people of something where there is no convincing possible. We often preach to the choir because they’re the only people who make us feel heard--but our own little choirs already know and believe what we know and believe.

So. I think, once I reviewed what I said above, that I’ve attempted to illuminate a conundrum about simultaneous utility and danger found in the act of expecting. This “study” of sorts is a microcosm of a world where darkness and light are aspects of all things. I’m convinced that the formulation of potential is expressed in binaries, but unlike computers, we are able to interpret ambiguities, and in many pockets of society people are tolerant of self-expression. With so many belief systems up for grabs, and with the world as it is in its ebbs and flows, it is up to the individual to craft their own transcendent values as a way to “orient themselves”, as Dr. Jordan B. Peterson put it. Be mature and do not dismiss nuance. Challenge yourself. And for God’s sake, the next time you’re thinking of buying that innocuous avocado that’s become the symbol for the Millennial generation, ask yourself what is more important: dismantling violent and antisocial Mexican drug cartels, or supporting Mexican farmers who are trying to make their ways through life, just like every. last. one of us.

[jordan202]

My Boys Drabbles - Lucas (Part One)

Thank you @jia911 for proofreading this!

This story is from the series My Boys Drabbles but it can also be read as a independent one shot.

Prompt:

People have asked me to write about Lucas’s previously mentioned difficult birth. I stretched it and made it all the way from the discovery of the pregnancy and I plan to take it all the way to parenthood. @hurricaneawelia and @cizavilation are the minds behind this prompt.

Timeline:

This one sets after Omelia’s fight and make up around 13x09 (you can read that HERE) and it intertwines with the events of THIS. When this story starts, they’ve been married approximately for 7 months.

My Boys Drabbles – Lucas (Part One) 

Amelia distractedly looked over her phone, trying not to focus on the clock, otherwise those minutes would never pass. It wasn’t the first, second or even third time in her life that she took a home pregnancy test. As expected, she was a little anxious and nervous about the result but deep down she knew it was most likely a new negative.

About seven months before, she’d married an amazing man who had introduced her to a world full of new possibilities. When Amelia’s first insecurities had started to show, right in the moment she’d decided to share some of her past with him, Owen had been amazingly supportive, revealing to her a scarred part of himself to let her know he was just as invested in making their relationship work. That had led Amelia to jump in with both feet, becoming instantly excited about the idea of starting a family with him.

But it hadn’t taken the neurosurgeon long to find out once again that demons from the past always caught up with a person, no matter how hard one tried to avoid their presence. A deeply buried box of feelings, insecurities and traumatizing experiences had emerged the minute Amelia had started dealing with long avoided emotions. Soon enough, completely taken over by fear, she had repeated what had often worked as a defense mechanism before and ran away as fast as she could, denying every feeling within herself.

To her surprise, Owen had followed her and he’d given her the strength Amelia hadn’t known she needed to move on. Her husband had held and comforted her while actually listening. He had understood and in that moment, Amelia knew that that was the man she wanted to build her entire future with.

Knowing about her reservation about becoming pregnant, Owen had patiently suggested they considered other possibilities. Even though that had comforted Amelia back then, at the present moment she was leaning towards the traditional course. She wanted to carry Owen’s baby, knowing this would make his biggest dream come true. Her husband had never pushed her to do it, even though he had confessed that seeing her pregnant with his baby was one of his most latent desires. And slowly, over the six months they’d been together, Amelia’s excitement about having his baby had progressively overcome the fear that had once been so flagrant.

Of course Amelia still had doubts and insecurities. She knew those would never vanish. But right now, there was also hope. And the undying certainty that no matter what happened, with Owen by her side, they were capable of going through anything.

She was so distracted by her own thoughts that her eyes took longer than needed to examine the stick. Just the previous week, Amelia had taken one of those and it came back negative. Over the past six months she and Owen had casually discussed trying again but never really making an official decision. She hadn’t stopped taking the pill but was being way more reckless than usual. Which was why the two lines on the home pregnancy test shouldn’t have surprised her.

But they did.

The surgeon sat on the toilet for what felt like hours, examining the life changing information in her hands. Amelia thought about how once, about six weeks before, she had asked Owen to put a baby inside of her on the same morning she’d told him she was going to add his name to hers.

Owen had been exhilarated when she’d shared her desire to have a traditional, boring, ordinary life with him. It had always been his biggest dream to have a big family with wife and kids. Amelia knew this moment would be an unforgettable one for them. And she couldn’t wait to tell him.

.

Owen stood still while holding his wife fiercely in his arms. She had just given him the most amazing news. He had come home on an ordinary evening blissfully unaware, only to find out that that day would turn out to be nothing but ordinary.

Amelia was pregnant with their child and never in his life had he felt prouder. Not only was she carrying his baby, she was also excited to be doing so. The last time Owen had received news such as those, his heart had been shattered into a thousand pieces. A part of his soul had been taken the day he’d had to sit through the procedure that had robbed him of the possibility to become a father. But all was different now. And Owen had to cling to that with every fiber of his being. He couldn’t afford losing another part of his soul. He wasn’t sure he would survive it.

“Owen?” Amelia called him out, seeing he had his arms still tightly wrapped around her and didn’t seem to want to let go.

His lack of response made her frown and let her know something wasn’t right. Gently, Amelia pulled apart, unconsciously holding onto the diamond ring that represented the promise he’d just made to her. Owen had vowed that he would always be there for her and their child. She believed him with everything she had. Owen was going to be an amazing father just as he was an amazing person. The family man in him was very much alive and Amelia loved it.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” She forced him to look at her and noticed a dark shadow clouding the usual liveliness of his light blue eyes. “Are you okay?” Amelia hesitated, startled by the expression on his face. That was not at all what she’d expected to see. “Are you… Are you having doubts about this?”

Owen kept looking at her as if he was frozen in time and space and Amelia swallowed hard, fearing the words that would come out of his mouth when he eventually spoke. The fact that she had no idea what was on his mind was scary and startling, but Amelia was doing her best to contain her anxiety.

“You’re keeping it, right?” Owen asked with a hoarse voice and Amelia could swear he was going through a painful battle of emotions. He knew Amelia wanted to have kids and she wouldn’t get rid of them because she didn’t want to be a mother. But maybe her fear of carrying a child would lead her to do it. He needed to know. Owen needed to be sure because once he let himself get involved, he knew he would be instantly carried away with an undying love for their kid. And he couldn’t risk losing another one.

His doubt hit her harder than she would have imagined. Amelia wasn’t offended by his question because she understood where it came from. Several times before, they’d discussed her traumas and he’d understood every reservation she had about having a child because of what she’d been through.

But very few times they’d gone over the fact that once Owen had lost a child too. He hadn’t been able to hold his baby in his arms but the pain and agony had been there all the same. He’d desired a child, conceived one and ultimately had been denied the possibility of being the father he had always dreamed of being. Amelia didn’t know what that was like, but she could imagine that like her, he had also gone through soul shaping pain and the repercussion of that trauma was the fear stamped in his eyes when he’d asked her that simple but very important question.

“Of course I’m keeping it,” She teared up as their eyes met. Amelia could spot all the expectation and anxiety there and his smile of relief when she answered his question made her heart swell with emotions. “Owen, this is our child. I’m in this for real. This is us building a family together. I’m all in, I want this… More than anything, I want this.”

Owen didn’t have good enough words to express how he felt. Before Amelia could see it, she felt him kneeling down in front of her, gently reaching out for her shirt. She was pulled forward when Owen’s arms wrapped around her hips and his lips touched the sensitive skin below her bellybutton.

Amelia chuckled and dug her fingers through his hair, hearing the delicious sounds of the kisses he was planting on her lower belly. Owen smiled as he rejoiced in that new reality. His wife was pregnant and he was able to thoroughly enjoy it, rather than having to spend his time convincing her why she should keep it. Amelia had been pregnant once but that experience was entirely new for her too because in her previous pregnancy, she had been all alone. That was not her reality anymore.

“How far along are we?” Owen asked, splaying one hand on her lower abdomen, proudly.

Amelia noticed his choice of pronoun and smiled lovingly at him.

“I don’t know, I just took the urine test today… But considering my last period I’d say we’re about five or six weeks.”

“So it’s very early on,” Owen held her hips and kissed her non existing bump once again before standing up to stare into her eyes.

“It is,” Amelia confirmed with a head nod, unable to stop smiling. Her top was still pulled up when she pressed her body against his.

“Good,” Owen added with an approving smile. “I want to enjoy every single moment we possibly can.”

Amelia saw the excitement in his eyes and couldn’t help standing on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss on the lips.

“Do you want to find out tomorrow?” She asked him excitedly. “With the Ultrasound, I mean? We can find out exactly how far along we are.”

Amelia hadn’t yet taken a blood test to confirm the pregnancy but she was fairly sure she was indeed pregnant. After her first urine test came back positive, she’d taken another and it’d showed the same result. She was also a few weeks late and that never happened.

“Of course I do,” Owen replied with happiness stamped in his eyes. He still couldn’t believe it was real. “Do you think we’ll be able to see the heartbeat? I really want to see the heartbeat,” He realized.

“Absolutely,” Amelia replied, contaminated by his effusive joy. Despite all her reservations and fears, she also couldn’t wait for that moment.

.

Later that night, Amelia wasn’t surprised when, the minute she crawled into bed, Owen held her in his arms and captured her lips on a tempting kiss. His smile when he pulled apart said it all and she rolled over to his top, allowing him to undress her.

Owen lay back against the pillows, fully admiring his view as he slowly pulled Amelia’s shirt up through her arms. His hands rubbed her arms affectionately and she leaned over, holding his face between his hands as she pulled him in for another long, passionate kiss.

Amelia felt the warmth of his hands going up and down on her naked back, sending shivers through her spine. She got Owen rid of his clothes and watched with delight as he carefully laid her on her back, touching her with more delicacy than he ever had before.

“Are you afraid to touch me?” She teased him, knowing he probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“What?” Owen furrowed his forehead defensively. “Of course not.”

Amelia smiled mischievously, knowing he was lying. His body language said it all.

“Owen, I am pregnant, not sick. I won’t break into two pieces. You don’t have to touch me like I’m made of crystal.”

He looked again into her eyes, tempted to deny he was being overly careful but her teasing voice and loving stare ended his defenses. With a chuckle, Owen admitted what he had unconsciously been doing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was doing it,” He confessed, twitching his lips playfully.

“It’s okay,” She stroked his cheek with her thumb affectionately. “I won’t break,” She reinforced but when her smile went from sweet to plainly dirty, Owen knew more was coming. “I might bend, though.”

He let out a loud laughter at her witty remark and returned her smile, supporting his weight on his elbows before leaning over her to kiss Amelia at his will. His hands ran through her body as did his lips. Owen’s fingers were dancing on the hem of her pants as he was about to pull them down when something caught his attention.

“What is this?” He stopped the trail of kisses and lifted his neck to take a closer look.

Amelia’s body protested the loss of contact with his lips but she tried hard to regain focus, belatedly processing his question.

“What?”

“This,” Owen pointed to a tiny dark mark on the side of her hips. It was almost invisible and he had to squint to read when he realized there was something written on there.

“Oh,” Amelia smiled sheepishly when she realized what he was talking about. “It’s a date.”

“A date…” Owen frowned in confusion, realizing she was right. The outline of numbers was clear then. “Since when did you have that tattooed there?”

“For a couple of months now,” Amelia confessed with a big grin, amused by the surprise in his eyes.

“What?!” Owen was taken aback. “How come I never noticed this until now?”

“Because you didn’t look,” Amelia loved the confusion in his eyes and took a deep breath before explaining, smiling widely. “You’re usually too busy with your hands all over me to notice anything… Not that I’m complaining, though,” She bit her lower lip, flashing him with a lustful smile. “Also, it didn’t help that the lights are usually off.”

“But…” Owen was surprised and disappointed at himself for not noticing before. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to see your reaction when you noticed it,” She confessed with a large smile, unknowingly seducing him with a sight of her dimples. “And to be honest, at this point I had nearly forgotten about it.”

“But why did you do it?” Owen caressed her hair gently, reveling in the image of the dark locks spilled across the white pillow. “Why did you have those numbers tattooed there?”

“It’s our wedding date,” Amelia confessed with a child like smile, excited to see his reaction.

“Really?” Owen’s face went from shocked to amused. He bent over her and examined the tattoo once again before facing her again. “I can’t believe you did this…” He added with a proud smile. The significance of the gesture touched his heart deeply. “You know what, I actually can… This kind of stuff shouldn’t surprise me anymore,” Owen shook his head in playful denial. “But I have to be honest and admit it still does,” Owen held her face possessively with one hand and stared deeply into her eyes. “You are amazing.”

Amelia smiled back and felt the meaning of his words when Owen stole another kiss that left her breathless. That night, he loved her in the sweetest way Amelia had ever experienced. Every touch of his hands and lips were filled with love and care. Owen, even with all his intensity and raw masculinity, could still take her breath away with his sweet devotion and burning passion, making Amelia feel the luckiest to have him by her side, creating with her a future that was every day more amazing.

.

Owen sat down by Amelia’s side, excitedly moving on the metal stool by the bed. They were in the obstetrics wing and Amelia had asked Arizona Robbins to meet them there. Even though Arizona wasn’t exactly the best at keeping things to herself, both Owen and Amelia knew she was in fact the best attending at reading pregnancy scans due to her fetal surgery background.

Amelia bit her lower lip, trying her best to control her nervousness. Despite it being too early on to tell anything that might be wrong with the baby, she desperately hoped they wouldn’t have to worry about it for the time being. Starting on the right foot was always comforting and Amelia held onto that hope.

Soon enough, Arizona joined them in the room and cheerfully sat down to perform the exam, smiling widely at the couple. Amelia appreciated it when Owen automatically reached out for her hand the minute Arizona inserted the probe in Amelia’s body, starting the scan.

“Ohhh, there it is,” The fetal surgeon smiled widely, looking from the screen to her colleagues and then again at the image. “Gestational sac looks good, there’s the yolk sac…” Arizona said cheerfully, taking measurements. “Look guys, there’s a good looking jelly bean,” She mirthfully added, pointing to the embryo with a white arrow. “Steady heartbeat. It’s at 110 beats per minute now, which is great. Not much else to see at this point, but according to the size, you’re at six weeks and four days… Does it match your last period?” Arizona asked, looking from the scan to Amelia and receiving an affirmative nod in response. “Alright then,” The fetal surgeon added some notes before she printed the scan. “So according to this your due date is July 15th. You have a long way until then but it’s going to be a fun ride, I’m sure. Congratulations, guys.”

When Arizona left the room, Amelia slowly sat up on the patient’s bed, seeing Owen stand by her side. When their eyes met, she could see he felt as emotional and excited as she did. Without a second thought, Amelia stretched out her arms, being promptly hugged back by her husband.

“I am so happy,” She confessed, taking a deep breath and feeling the familiar scent of his clothes. “And so relieved.”

The words left her mouth before Amelia could have any control. She subtly pulled apart, meeting his gaze at the same time she tried to hide her embarrassment.

“I know, babe,” Owen gave her an emotional smile filled with comprehension. “I am too.”

“Yeah?” Amelia leaned over for another hug, resting her head on his chest as his arms slowly wrapped around her again.

“Absolutely,” Owen reassured her, giving his wife another kiss on the top of her head before letting go of her body.

He helped her get rid of the gown and back into her clothes. Once Amelia was already fully dressed in her scrubs, she fixed her hair while letting him know:

“I want to call Addison,” The neurosurgeon said, absolutely sure of that. “I am going to email her this scan. Even though I know she can��t do my pre natal consults because of the distance, I still want her to be involved.”

Owen knew that the world class OBGYN was probably the one Amelia trusted the most for medical advice and he believed his wife should do whatever made her feel safest. Addison was a trusted friend who had been by Amelia’s side through her first pregnancy and it made all the more sense that Amelia found comfort in her support.

“Sure,” She gave him a pat on the back as they left the room. “But would she be involved in the labor too? How would that work? I mean, we need someone who’s here that we can call and see in case we need to.”

“Arizona can do that.”

“Arizona is not an obstetrician,” Owen informed her, very seriously. “She can do the baby part, but someone has to do the mom part,” He decided, absolute adamant that his wife got all the care she needed.

“Fine, I’ll set up an appointment with someone from OB,” Amelia gave in.

“Amelia,” Owen censored her, doubting that she would do as told. He pushed the elevator button and waited with her, seeing how distracted she looked.

“I will,” She insisted, but her voice didn’t sound so sure.

“You know what,” He added with a smile. “I will set the appointment. You call Addison. Deal?”

Amelia smiled in response and gave him a peck on the lips. She trusted Arizona and Addison, and she honestly didn’t think they needed anyone else. But if that made Owen feel safer, she would go to the appointment.

“This pregnancy has barely started and you’re already being difficult,” Owen rolled his eyes playfully, foreseeing that soon enough, a rush of hormones would add emotional liability to his already very stubborn wife. “I can’t wait,” He added ironically.

Amelia smiled and swiftly gave him a squeeze on the butt, making Owen’s eyes grow wide with shock as she escaped through the elevator doors, heading towards the surgical floor. He watched with loving eyes as his wife left and made his way to the ER, still clueless to just how much trouble Amelia would create in the long months that were yet to come.

  --

[tinymixtapes]

Feature: Wrong in Different Ways

“An accurate memory of the past would be depressing, probably.” – David Lynch One of the best jokes in the pilot episode of Twin Peaks occurred when Agent Cooper and Sheriff Harry Truman, at the end of a long day of detective work, return to the Sheriff’s Office to find a mounted deer head laying on its side. The odd response from a minor character (“Oh, it fell down”) underlines a lot of the initial appeal of the series: A seemingly innocuous moment executed with comedic pacing and an absurdity designed to relieve the tension built up from a string of traumatic plot revelations. It’s weird, but not “too weird.” It’s, in today’s language, quirky. The first two seasons of Twin Peaks are full of these kinds of moments. We have the legendary “damn fine” cups of coffee. We have Major Briggs’s extraordinary wisdom. We have Cooper’s played-for-laughs lesson on the nation of Tibet and the mystic knowledge he draws from it. And, as the second season burrows into its bizarre middle and late periods, we get super strength, aliens, and Confederate soldier amnesia. It’s a show whose metaphysics hinge on a dwarf who speaks backwards. These bits have lingered on as a 25-years-running set of passwords. How there was “a fish in the percolator” or how the owls are “not what they seem” or how “it is happening again.” These phrases have been passed along, referenced, parodied, remixed, rebuilt, paid forward into other works that have absorbed the show’s legacy. This tone — humorous, mysterious, offbeat — has been perhaps the most visible product of the show’s brief initial run. Nearly every beloved television series of the intervening generation, from Lost to True Detective to even Glee, has at some point been described as “like Twin Peaks.” But, within these sometimes scattered ideas about what the series may or may not represent, there begs another question: What do we mean when we say something is “like Twin Peaks”? --- Animation: Korey Daunhauer Other things that are like Twin Peaks: Wind blowing through a stand of Douglas Fir. A traffic light changing from yellow to red in the darkness. A ceiling fan turning, frighteningly, forever. When Twin Peaks first aired, I was four years old. I remember sneaking into the living room to see my mom watching the show and, on other nights, hearing Angelo Badalamenti’s music lurking outside my bedroom door. I remember catching a glimpse of Cooper in the Sheriff’s station, his eyebrows up in fear, and hearing synthesizer chords hanging in our hallway, moments that made my mom “afraid.” I remember being up later than I should have been. I remember the lights being off. All mundane, average things somehow made wrong by what was on TV. This, for me, is what I think of as being “like” Twin Peaks. Because when you talk about Twin Peaks, you are also talking about much more than its plot. Because when you talk about Twin Peaks, you are also talking about much more than its plot. There is the TV series, its companion movie, and their various release formats throughout the year. There is the fandom that blossomed around these two pieces of media and their various tie-ins (books, cassettes, merchandising). There is the career of one of its creators and how this single storyworld may or may not speak for the entirety of their body of work. There are GIFs, memes, theme parties, Etsy art, and SXSW pop-up events. There is Log Lady cosplay. In all this, it’s easy to lose track of the show’s plot: the murder mystery of teenage Laura Palmer, the small-town homecoming queen whose private life was (like those owls) not what it seemed. Alongside its endearing cast and twilight-Borscht Belt sense of humor, it was this mystery that first lured a large network audience to the series’s first season. And, as the reasons for the killing became more elliptical and less grounded to Earth (though maybe more poetically drawing from the show’s interest in the earth and nature), many of those same fans moved on to other fictional universes. In the immediate clearing wrought by Twin Peaks, we got Northern Exposure — also a show “like Twin Peaks” that my mother watched at night, though one that made her less “afraid.” Offbeat, quirky. Weird, but not too weird. --- Animation: Korey Daunhauer Also like Twin Peaks: A poker chip. The sound of neon crackling through a bar sign. Rope tied around a wrist. I have a screencap on my desktop of James Hurley — the series’s sensitive bad boy, as opposed to its other criminal bad boys or its demon-possessed bad boys — sitting on a hilltop overlooking the breathtaking view of the mountains bordering the town of Twin Peaks, his motorcycle parked next to him. In the context of the show, James and his motorcycle are sort of a duo (a theme explored with great detail in his much-derided road trip in season 2). In another scene from the pilot, when James drives off from his uncle Ed’s “gas farm,” he slips on a pair of sunglasses before riding away, like it’s no big deal. For a series whose aesthetic can feel so unique, so precisely defined, much about Twin Peaks feels like an echo of something else. James prefigures Nicolas Cage’s words from David Lynch’s Peaks-contemporary feature film Wild At Heart, where he declares, wonderfully, that his snakeskin jacket is a “symbol of my individuality and my belief in personal freedom.” Hurley, in his leather jacket, on his hog, wearing these shades, wearing his square jaw handsomeness, speaks just as clearly, and ridiculously, and earnestly, to his belief in personal freedom. For a series whose aesthetic can feel so unique, so precisely defined, much about Twin Peaks feels like an echo of something else. Twin Peaks often feels like it is either making fun of something or being deadly sincere about that same thing, oftentimes both at once. Even from the beginning, the dialogue is corny (“Quit worryin’ and start screwin’, Mr. Touchdown”) and many of the jokes don’t “work” in the way one might like them to. This, of course, is also much of what is “like” Twin Peaks: the gap, similar to irony but something much weirder, between what we expect and what we get. It’s disarming. It makes one pause and wonder. It messes deeply with one’s bearing for what, if anything, we’re supposed to be taking seriously here — and why some of these things might be taken more seriously than others. Why do we allow some of this to resonate and not the rest? What does it say about us if we can’t totally “go there”? What will people think of me if I don’t get it? --- Animation: Korey Daunhauer Another example from Lynch’s pilot that is “like Twin Peaks”: the scene when Laura’s friends first learn of her death in the middle of class. When this discovery comes — illustrated, crushingly, by Laura’s empty desk — her best friend and confidant, Donna, is moved to an explosion of grief. This meme-ready image, of actress Lara Flynn Boyle’s head tilted back in despair, openly weeping, has become an icon of something core to the identity of the Twin Peaks universe: the intrusion of a deep sadness into “normal life.” Maybe more than any violence or supernatural evil, it is this quality — the stuff that brings us to tears — that both disrupts and defines life in Twin Peaks. There are few other television shows or films that allow its characters more frequent and intense displays of things so easily repressed, of actual crying, of more opportunities to react to trauma with not just inner pain but a pandemonium of feelings: terror, rage, screaming. How does James react in this same scene? James, stone-faced, snaps his pencil in half. It’s quirky, and it’s somehow placed at exactly the wrong moment, the timing completely off. Also in this scene, which feels equally “like Twin Peaks” despite its seemingly frivolous nature: a poster on the back wall of Abraham Lincoln. --- Animation: Korey Daunhauer A lot of what we remember about Twin Peaks now is environmental. The red curtains of the Black Lodge and the roadhouse stage, the zig-zag of black and white, tall trees filtered through fog. All of its objects. Rewatching the series, I tried to make a list of every “object” that felt important. Three episodes in, this list began to feel psychotic: ashtrays, gas pumps, jukeboxes (plural). I wrote the word “lumber” a dozen times. Everything — every “thing” — seemed to carry another meaning. Even the most basic details, after a few hours, vibrated differently. Each lamp felt ominous. Twin Peaks has hung around for almost three decades partially for this reason. The lasting mystery of the show is less in the question it was marketed under — “Who killed Laura Palmer?” — but in that question of what, exactly, we’re even seeing. Its audience returns to these episodes again and again, because something about them feels unfinished. That creeping feeling that something is not right here, that things have gone terribly, cosmically wrong — and that it still (as James puts it) “makes some kind of terrible sense.” The lasting mystery of the show is less in the question it was marketed under — “Who killed Laura Palmer?” — but in that question of what, exactly, we’re even seeing. That the series often asks you to largely throw away logic and to be swept up in its senses, “terrible” or otherwise, is also what has given the show its long life. Lynch and creative partner Mark Frost don’t seem interested in telling the story of Laura Palmer’s murder to “say” anything about her death, or about death in general. They tell this story because it feels a certain way. The haze of American upper-middle-class suburbia — caught temporally between the era of the show’s premiere, the 80s, and that of Lynch’s own childhood, the 50s — is used for a texture of banality, the “normal world” terrorized by the show’s supernatural forces. Like much of Lynch’s work, this resonates the deepest as a kind of dream place, perhaps his attempt to rebuild and remake the specifics of his own youth in order to reveal the sensations he felt buried in there. And yet: while Twin Peaks may not be the real world, it’s also not only fantasy. And it’s certainly not universal. It is a specific vision with precise references to an era its creators grew up in: neon diner signs, girls in sweater sets, sleazy rock & roll, wall-to-wall carpeting, cassette tapes, the highly stylized signifiers of a mid-century middle-class American culture. These references don’t belong to everybody, but they do belong to the person who dropped a teenager’s murder into the middle of them. They resonate not because they’re ours, but because we can tell they are somebody’s. Many of us might like the chance to revisit and rebuild our childhoods; Lynch just has the privilege of giving us his childhood back to us. Twin Peaks might not always ask you to think, but it always asks that you feel — deeply, confusingly, uncontrollably. Fitting for a story about spirit possession and a community unprepared to deal with it, when Twin Peaks works, it can seem like a thing that is being done to us, intruding in our own normal spaces, flipping them. Creeping down the hallway. Driving us to host costume parties. Still making us “afraid.” Twin Peaks’s power is that it makes things wrong, but it never makes them right again. The show just continues making them wrong in different ways. http://j.mp/2rc7ghY