oh nuts. a life experience has given me a new layer of perspective on Cas's homosexual declaration of love to Dean.
recently I had occasion to tell a person I had feelings for them knowing full well they didn't feel even a twinge of the same thing for me. while the whole thing was a decidedly unpleasant experience, I kept laughing at myself internally bc I didn't want to say "the happiness is just in saying it" like fucking Castiel over here. (we don't need to talk about it, it's fine.) (I am happier having said it and it's kind of bullshit, but I digress.)
because the thing is, the happiness isn't in just saying it, right? the happiness is in the having. I made a whole TikTok "proving" that the Empty didn't come for Cas when he confessed his love, but rather when he realized Dean loved him back. even for Cas, the happiness was in the having, not in the saying, however brief it was.
and I've always been one of those people who rolled their eyes at the whole concept. why would the happiness be in just being, in just saying it, if it's right there in front of you to have. and then it hit me like a tonne of bricks (as I was washing my kitchen counters).
Cas really didn't think he could have Dean.
at all. in any capacity. he really, truly, and honestly felt to the depths of himself that Dean did not have any twinge of similar feelings, that this really was a Hail Mary shot-in-the-dark. and I think me, personally, really didn't understand that about Cas. that his belief in his love being unrequited was that unshakable.
something else I've been pondering is how audiences have so much more empathy for fictional characters who share traits that IRL they find objectionable and unappealing. but the thing is about fictional characters is that we follow them around in their most private, vulnerable moments. we see Dean mourning Cas when he dies, literally killing himself because he can't live without him, but it's so easy to forget that we're the omniscient ones here.
Cas never knew.
Dean's whole thing was pushing him away, keeping him at arm's length, making it seem like whatever heroic thing he does for Cas he'd do for anyone. he downplays how important it is for Dean to share the Deancave with him, to show him his favourite movies, share his favourite songs. he acts like the things Cas does for him don't mean that much to hide how much they do mean. he uses "we" whenever he even gets in the vicinity of expressing a feeling. "We were worried." "We're glad you're back." "We needed a win." "You're our brother." The audience knew the difference. We saw how he'd clench his jaw or swallow hard or make a face that said "God, I'm being such an idiot". Because we saw him in those little moments. We got to see the cracks in the mask.
but Cas never knew.
the self-hating angel of Thursday was never going to think it was all a way for Dean to protect himself. obviously, that's the delicious tragedy of it all, but what I think I realized at the end of all that is Cas confessing his love to a Dean who didn't love him back wouldn't have worked. Because the happiness really is in the having. If happiness was just in saying it, then The Empty would have come before Cas even finished getting the words out of his mouth.
so Cas's plan wouldn't have worked if Dean didn't love him back.
this is just me yapping on about my own nonsense, but I do think it's really interesting. there's contentment in "just saying it". there's freedom and relief and an unburdening. I think one can argue that it makes being happy in the being easier. there is certainly some joy in telling a person you think that highly of them. but true happiness?
nah.
true happiness is always going to only be in the having. Cas didn't understand the difference until he experienced it, and by then, it was too late.
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in addition to that, remember how i found out my ex has a kid through his whatsapp icon??
(the kicker is, i only looked at it because my fucking grandma told me on the phone: oh you know how i kept his number, because I always thought...* well looking at his new picture I might just delete it now...)
well at christmas i wanted to send myself some pictures i took with my mum's phone (with permission of course) and what do i see? she TEXTED HIM MERRY CHRISTMAS. we broke up over three years ago! ma'am this man didn't even send you a fucking condolence card when dad died! he does NOT get a merry christmas!!
so I told her that. she was a little snappy about it, which annoyed me because sorry, this is -my- old heart break, I'm not texting your exes either?? (or my ex's parents for that matter) but then! she said: but I DO wonder what kid he's holding there...
and I was like mum, what the heck, that's obviously HIS kid, what other child would that be
and she was SO CONFUSED. MOTHER! WHAT
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Yeah I like to see some quotes please. I can't really get my head round people believing in Mary's bona fides when the law didn't even exist in England. It's like Americans obsessing over a law only Canadians have. But I guess loyalty/sentiment/status quo was a big part of it.
Well, I don't think most noblewo/men were deeply well-versed in succession/inheritance laws of England and all their precedents, unless they'd happened to also study law...the assumption was probably that what was the law in most of Christendom was for England as well, understandably. But, then, that's not even a subject that seems to be well-understood in 21c historiography:
“[Henry VIII] now argued she would would be barred by illegitimacy. This contention puzzled continental contemporaries because elsewhere in western Europe those children born to couples who in good faith believed themselves validly married were treated as legitimate. Nevertheless, Henry was right. After a period of some uncertainty, by the late fourteenth century England had opted out of the bona fides principle. As Sir John Baker notes, 'succession problems were usually debated in legal terms and in accordance with the common law canons of inheritance.’ A successful challenge to his marriage would thus automatically bastardise Mary and leave Henry no direct heir… [although] Mary could have been legitimated by statute.”
- JF Hadwin, Katherine of Aragon and the Veil, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History
... so that's, for the 16c, like I said, an understandable assumption. (Also, their source was probably Chapuys, who was familiar with both secular and church law, but espoused many misunderstandings of their precedents, too...so did Fisher, they're enumerated in another article by the same historian, titled Leviticus, Deuteronomy and Henry VIII, I will post those relevant quotes too, if they're of interest to you, asw).
Yeah, the bona fides element was... an interesting one, nevertheless...like, all the interrogations I mentioned, everyone says they've heard Mary was bona fides but won't really explain what it meant, they admit their ignorance on the subject, and won't name the source of where they've heard it (although, like I mentioned, they are willing to point fingers to deflect suspicion off themselves of their former friends in other regards), just assert that they all sort of mindlessly (lol) repeated what they'd heard, all, understandably, to maintain plausible deniability and get themselves out of the hot water they've landed themselves in.
For the Exeter conspiracy, I've posted one relevant in the past, I'll see what else I can scrounge up from my notes of excerpts.
It was, but I don't think courtier opportunism should be underestimated. Just one example, but I always remember that the Marquis of Exeter was one of the delegation of nobles HVIII sent to pressure CoA to relinquish her rights as Queen, tell Charles V to stop interfering in the matter, and one of the conspirators named by Chapuys in the Boleyn downfall. Granted, his wife had been one of Mary's supporters from very early on, so I think that element is there.
Elitism is probably an overestimated element, like while it's true the Boleyns were not born of royalty (neither were the Seymours, tho, so like...); I think what was going on beneath the surface was more intricate. Take Nicholas Carew, for example: originally, he'd been of the Boleyn faction, understandably, since they were cousins (he also, initially at least, seemed to favour a French alliance, so there's that). But I think what began as , well, the King needs a son, and if he's going to marry another wife, it might as well be a woman of my family as anyone else, to my benefit as much as anyone else...well, I think the shine came off this as matters unfolded. The thrust of their expectations were probably that AB was going to have as much, or less, influence as her predecessor with Henry, and her influence and power quickly outstripped those expectations. As the Boleyns gained power, wealth, and influence, and as men like Carew felt their own influence ebb in favour of say, George Boleyn (and I use him as an example, because by early 1536, it's evident many noblemen hated George, Lancelot de Carles' report of those events really crystallizes this)...well, resentment only grew, and their desire for the return of the status quo was thus kindled.
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