#and how much has become just normal to me

[culturalsillystine]

This ended up longer than I intended.

Here's a long rant about Zero Day, denial, and finding comfort in your sickness.

.

One of the things that's stuck with us since our first time watching Zero Day is when Cal says something about not being able to cure someone who has nothing wrong with them.

Some people get so deep into their illness that they start to tell themselves, "There is nothing wrong with me." It's self-soothing, in a way. You have nothing to fix if there's nothing wrong, right? And you get sucked further and further into it until it's all you know, so it becomes normal. There's truly nothing wrong with you, because it's your norm, and how could that be wrong?

And then you get worse and worse until something happens. It could be something bad, such as Cal and Andre's case. Something people would usually never consider. But when you're sick, you're sick, and things don't make sense, and it doesn't matter what people would or wouldn't consider. Because you would, and you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

That, or you get help. And Andre briefly mentions something, I think it may be before what Cal says? I'm not sure, correct me if I'm wrong. But he mentions something, says that even if they did get caught and got put in counseling or something, they'd get out, and they'd still do it.

And that leads you to wonder, is that true? Is that truly what would happen? Or are they feeling so untouchable and so powerful that they think NOTHING can stop them. Not even professional help.

And we'll never know. That's what I enjoy about Zero Day, there's so much we never know. We just have to trust these two boys who will present you with their truth, not the truth.

We see very little of Cal's family, and what we do see isn't bad. What we see of Andre's is.. conflicting. His family means well, but he's an 18 year old boy who likes guns and doesn't seem to get enough appreciation from his father. It writes itself, really.

We see none of Andre interacting with his peers, we only see Cal during the prom scenes. And the prom scenes are loud and irritating and awkward. He doesn't really try to be social, he takes the next possible chance to go to the only person he really bothers socializing with; Andre.

They're both very sick. Whether it's the same thing, something similar, or something entirely different, who's to say, but they find comfort in each other. They're both rotting away, and it's okay, because it's together. Whether or not it's based in love (platonic or romantic) or a hatred for the world so deep that your vision is blurred by your tears of rage, who knows. You never get to know.

Because the last thing those boys would want is to be vulnerable. Because that means something is wrong. But nothing can be wrong, because you're normal. There's nothing wrong with you.

I hope this makes sense and isn't incoherent.

[xenosagaepisodeone]

more on that post from yesterday, I feel as if people who grew up needing to manually learn social rules due to neurodivergence are often susceptible to a kind of cynicism that (ironically) normietypicals don't necessarily subscribe to. it makes sense, once you pick up on the social hierarchy built in to a lot of spaces, it can make social relationships seem transactional and hollow. if you aren't surrounded by people who have your interests/opinions/habits/etc, the only value in fitting in is the emotional experience of being a part of a crowd and how much your "I Am Normal" self-concept is validated. there's also the pride in realizing that you've figured out "the rules" unlike your peers who may not be as socially adept. socializing becomes a game you can "win" in the kind of way you win trivial pursuit, except if the only subject was arbitrary social norms.

i'd say the biggest disservice people do to themselves when contorting themselves this way is losing the ability to recognize that some adults are just unpleasant, not a reflection of the world at large. most of the time when you do a social faux pas, there's normally a way to ameliorate the situation (with the obvious exception of like, exclusive settings, networking or work events where social conduct is part of the package you're selling). if you've internalized heirarchical thinking however, you'll come to believe that you've lost the interaction- that everyone has now seen you for the awkward autist you spend every waking moment repressing. you don't need to do this! people outside of particular circumstances do not see socializing as a game to win. if you keep talking and are kind, understanding and considerate, it's small potatoes- but you need to commit to the bit. other people intuit "the rules", but they aren't actually as committed to most of them as you think (a lot of them don't even fully understand why they exist, they just know it's what you're "supposed" to do). a situation I've observed more than once was someone who had deeply wound themselves around a set of behaviors finding themselves frustratingly confounded when a newcomer with some behavioral quirks was well-accepted by their group. as it turns out, whatever punishment your parents or schools dolled out for your eccentricities don't necessarily carry over to people who are actually compassionate and understanding in the adult world LOL. you poison yourself by believing that hierarchy and being boring is intrinsic to "normal people".

I don't know though, maybe social interactions only work for me in spite of my shortcomings because everyone thinks I'm a pretty princess

[tragedy-of-commons]

Congrats on 200 followers!!! You deserve everything with how much you’ve made me giggle with your stories!🎉

For your 200 followers event? May I request; Dan Heng + “Let’s meet again, in our next life…” + romantic + angst (I’m not sure if you accept the genre)

I think I’m gonna go crazy with how much angst and fluff I consume in a day

"Let's meet again, in our next life..."

It's a nice sentiment. It really is.

It also just so happened to be the best thing you could come up with, considering you're too focused on the stuttering breaths and tremors wracking Dan Heng's form. He must find it insulting, really, that you'd bring up his disposition like this, but you don't know if he can even hear you at all right now.

The storm normally brewing behind his eyes is replaced by a glazed sheen that you desperately want to remedy. You can barely find it in yourself to speak, words slurring together and becoming lost in the whiplash of the tears and shock. But you keep going. That's about all you can do.

"You--you always said I'd make a good professional nuisance. Well, that one time, anyway - I laughed so hard you didn't talk to me for two days," you ramble, threading your fingers through his matted hair. Your fingernails are caked in red, and it probably doesn't feel good in the slightest, but he doesn't even tense.

Dan Heng is still.

You sniffle, words garbled. "M-Maybe I'll peddle something door-to-door... like vacuum cleaners. Shitty ones that don't even come with a handheld and break right after the warranty expires. You'll o-open your door one day, and sparks will fly all over again."

This hypothetical scene you'd normally be pitching to him over a hearty breakfast or under the twinkling stars doesn't make either of you laugh. Instead you feel bile crawl up the length of your esophagus, threatening to spew with the rest of your guts if you persist with this poor charade.

"Or maybe you'll slam the door in my face. I don't know what could happen," you admit, because of course you don't. You don't know anything else but Dan Heng's nauseatingly cold skin and clammy hands.

There's a small number of people in this universe that will accept you. There's an even smaller number of people who will love you, that will let you inside their heart, no matter how much of a professional nuisance you may be. Finally, there's an infinitesimal amount of people - really just one - who will let you love them in return, despite it all.

And he has just slipped right through the gaps of your fingers.

"Even if you do," you hiccup violently, biting your tongue until you taste iron, "I'll stand out there all night until you recognize me."

There's no response except the buzzing of cicadas, tapping on the soft spot right between your eyes in a dull ache that hurts so bad you can't breathe.

If that's a good or bad thing, it doesn't matter; Dan Heng is not here to soothe the pain with mild-mannered but gentle platitudes. Dan Heng is not here to squeeze your hand back as you try in vain to keep up the one-sided effort.

You are alone, even as you sweep away his bloodied knot of bangs, leaning forward to press your quivering lips against his forehead tenderly.

"You k-know I would," you plead, whispering against his eyebrows and mangled nose, a tiny part of you still holding out for a sign that he's still with you - that he understands how much you love him, even if you didn't say it as much as you should've. "Dan Heng..."

Those three little words are on the tip of your tongue, foreign. It feels like an insult, knowing he won't be able to hear them. Even so, you choke the syllables out, actualizing years of subtle acts of service and inside jokes and wonderful chemistry that you'll never get to share with him again. Cradling your best friend and only treasure, you weep.

When you're torn from his side by first responders, clawing and gasping in abject hysteria, you struggle further, begging anyone who will listen not to take him away. You know he's already gone, you see it in the stiffness of his shoulders as you're dragged away, but you need him. You need Dan Heng, and you need him in not just the next life, but in this one too.

Time passes by in an unpleasant blur, reminiscent of a slideshow. Between clicks, whole days bleed into one another. You feel like you're slathered with monochrome and grayscale while stood against a background teeming with color, terribly out of place and clashing with your surroundings.

Click, you're standing in one place, and then you're not.

Click, you're lying down, only somewhat aware that if you turn over on your side, you'll be met with the barren right side of the bed. Click, you're mulling over flower arrangements and funerary rites without a hint of life in your voice.

Time has never been on Dan Heng's side, you know that for certain. He'd confided in you a few times - in whispers over poorly brewed coffee and in the middle of chaste kisses - that he may never be truly free from the shackles of his past.

Even so, you love him. You'll love him for the rest of your life, and hopefully, all throughout your next one as well. If not, you hope, with all of your shared memories at your back, that Dan Heng will find peace in his next incarnation.

You, however, won't be finding peace until you show up soliciting on his doorstep, peddling those shitty vacuum cleaners.

Until then, you suppose, choking on your tears of yearning.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren, @synqiri

a/n: did i cry a few times while writing this one? yes. are you evil for forcing me to do this? yes. did i absolutely love every second of it? yes. by the same token, i'm glad i've made you giggle, anon! <3 loved this prompt.

event post here

[youzicha]

Simulacra, Simulation, and Girls' Generation

That take that "anime girls don’t correspond to anything" reminded me of one of my own pet theories, which is that the same is true about Kpop groups.

Groups like Girls' Generation are like the opposite of American singer-songwriters. The singer-songwriter's core value is authenticity. Their songs are taken to be autobiographical, and to be valuable because they are a true description of the emotions that the songwriter felt. The singer-writer must be a single person so we can be sure that nobody has tampered with the depiction before it reaches us. This is Baudrillard's "first order" image, we in the audience should believe that the song is "the reflection of a profound reality".

With the kpop groups, what we enjoy is that the song does not represent any underlying reality. Each music video is the impersonal product of songwriters, producers, choreographers, stylists, video directors, etc. Rather than a spontaneous expression, you can see the moves being developed in the behind-the-scenes dance practice videos. The online discourse emphasizes the role of the entertainment agency (e.g. SM Entertainment): the group members themselves do not have "agency" so we can be confident that their own emotions didn't make it into the love songs they sing.

Let’s look at the music video for Oh! (2010) to see how this plays out. It's like a game of dress-up, showing off two different cheerleader uniforms. Argumate once wrote that Girls' Generation perform "a detailed sequence of dance moves that are very 'sexy', i.e. strongly coded as suggesting sexiness without necessarily being sexy-without-quotes", and I think we can say something similar about cheerleader outfits. They are not there to convey a message or story (and as if to stress the arbitrariness, the last few seconds of the video show the girls dressed in a completely different "strong woman" style, to tease the upcoming next look). Rather, the "sexy cheerleader" is itself a stylized, free-floating signifier to be quoted. "The whole system becomes weightless … an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference." (Although I believe it is still possible to overcome the ironic stance.)

So far everything is straightforward, but now consider the lyrics:

Oppa please see me, please look at me It's the first time I talk like this (ha!) I did my hair and I did my makeup too But why is it only you who doesn't know? […] Don't think of me just like a little sister You might regret that after a year

I claim that this also works in the opposite direction to the normal mode of storytelling. When creating a movie or play, the auteur-director starts with an idea or a story, and then casts actors to best represent his vision. Or, if that is not what it in fact took place, it is still the convention the viewer is supposed to apply to interpret the work. But with an idol music video, the starting point is the singer, who already has a fanbase. "Please see me, please look at me"—well, we already were. (This is not the only Girls' Generation song about looking at the idol, by the way, compare e.g. The Boys, which begins "I can tell you're looking at me / I know what you see".)

Given the opposite starting point, the representational function of the lyrics changes correspondingly. Rather than focusing on the new fictional person who emerges ex nihilo, the fan's attention is still on the singer, and the "little sister" character is yet another stock signifier for them to bring out and put on, much like the uniform. The function of the story is erasure: there was in fact a hairdresser and a makeup artist who styled Yuri, but instead we're invited to project a different fantasy over her. The effect is to further stress the unreality of all the symbols involved.

With this in mind, I think one Girls' Generation song has a really interesting concept for the lyrics. In Paparazzi (2012) the idol looks out across the crowds, spots a photographer who is trying to be discreet, and speaks directly to him: "shall I give you a better photo? let's be friendly, after all aren't we allies?"

It re-establishes the inauthenticity and unreality of the idol! As time goes by, pesky reality intrudes. People will follow the individual group members devotedly, and there are paparazzi images of them. Members will capitalize on their fame through individual brand endorsement deals. There is the perennial problem of girl group girls getting boyfriends, jarringly peeking out as an actual human being from behind the illusion. Or in the extreme case they can even use their new independent existence to leave the group.

In Paparazzi, those candid photos are re-imagined as performance. And furthermore, just like in Oh! we are invited to imagine a fictional character speaking directly to us. But in this case the character is superimposed not just over the image from the music video, but also over all the already existing photos. The actual person of the idol is crowded out by the fantasy…

[cynthiav06]

With Percy, we know that he hates going to school and his goals don’t really line up with Annabeth’s, but Annabeth is kind of forcing him to do it with her because he can’t say no to her. Say Rick didn’t make Annabeth Percy’s entire personality, what do you think he would’ve done in the mortal world rather than go to university?

I was checking my drafts cause I am trying to catch up on all the asks in my inbox ( as I said in one of my earlier posts I was in middle of a medical situation so I have at least a month of backlog) and found this draft.

The funny thing is I had already written most of the post in the draft version, and this ask wasn't even being displayed in my inbox, so I was very confused as to when it was from.

But it's such a good prompt and a sort of controversial question in the fandom, so I wanted to post it asap.

Percy doesn't like studies, but he knows the importance of it, so I am sure he will finish his initial college, probably either in the science or arts section. We know at one point he got better grades than Annabeth at one point so he certainly isn't quitting studies and doing way better than what people expect. He also wouldn't like just staying at home and doing nothing (I am looking at certain Percabeth stans here), so he definitely would be doing one job or another.

1.

I don't think he would study marine biology like most believe. After a conversation I had with someone who had taken the course, I am convinced Percy wouldn't like it. It's heavily based on chemistry, and we know how much Percy is affected by sea creatures being mistreated or caged, so having to study marine biology wouldn't really be something he would choose.

2.

An interesting twist would be if he chose to be a writer like his mother.

We all know that Percy writes or at least dictates and narrates the first five books, which are written and narrated entirely from his perspective. Moreover, there are books on Percy just narrating his own sarcastic takes on Greek gods and Greek heroes. What if he did actually catalogue his own adventures in those books as a sort of manual for other demigods on how to deal with certain monsters and gods and such.

Through Percy's thoughts, even as 12 years old, we can certainly say he has advanced vocabulary despite being dyslexic and given how much he admires Sally, why wouldn't he be interested in following her footsteps. Sure, he has trouble reading, but that's not to say he wouldn't love expressing his thoughts through humorous retelling of his own adventures which he can pass as fiction to normal readers but actual experiences in demigod world. Who doesn't want to know the exploits of Percy Jackson?

Plus, it's a good money hack. And don't for a second tell me he wouldn't. Sally petrified Gabe, and then they sold his statute to a museum as a sculpture and earned money off of that. So Sally would definitely encourage it, and Percy would even follow through on it just for shits and giggles and the added benefit of helping demigods and earning money.

[I literally want this to happen just for the Godly reactions. I am all for god slander, especially Zeus slander. Poseidon would be half laughing at the book and half worried cause of the sheer catastrophes his son seems to fall into almost on a daily basis.

Apollo would be having a grand time, and Hermes will be half depressed and half impressed throughout. Overall, it would be hilarious all around, and it might finally make the gods feel a bit more accountable . It's literally the Reading Percy Jackson Series trope, and that's always fun.]

3.

One other option is that Percy will get into environmental preservation, specifically the protection of Rivers and Seas from pollution by actively involving himself and others in its cleanliness and purification. He would also run Beach cleanliness programs.

I think he and Grover would become environmental activists and would definitely get into preserving forest areas and other places where nature spirits dwell frequently. I can see them doing it a lot, long-term wise, too.

4.

I think he would kind of like marine explorations, but that might cause his powers to be somewhat exposed, so he might not do that, but it's a possibility.

That's all I can think of. I would like to hear everyone else's opinions on this.

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Hello everyone! I'm getting a start early, by queueing this post for tomorrow morning, look at me go. Thank you who much to @tailsbeth-writes for the tag <3 I have ... 3 wips again, because I have no self control, so we're doing all of this under the cut, because it's gonna be long, and maybe a lil nsfw <3 LET'S GOOOOOOOO.

------ George Villier's inner dialogue during an Orgy (that's the working title on this, please bare with)

It wasn’t that George had always been this way, but an ascension into power had nurtured his hedonism prone nature. If he was to be blessed with the gift of beauty, he would take all the power and pleasure that came with it. He’d earned it after all, his bed of lovers, his social standing, influence, and wealth. Each a result of unsavory acts; but that made them so much more deserved, did it not? He could have anything he wanted, like a god among men, and so he should be worshipped the same. Though he was more than content with devotion in the form of flesh; he’d certainly used his own body as currency often enough. Even now, anything that wasn’t handed to him willingly, with a brush of lips, or a clandestine slip to knees, could become his. That in itself was testament to all he’d done, that his willing submission was as effective a bargaining tool as his power.

WATERSPORTS FIRSTPRINCE (aka, Alex is funny and Henry has a weak bladder)

“You… think it’s- what?” Henry choked out, “You think it’s hot that I pissed myself in the middle of our kitchen? Is that your idea of a joke?” “I-” the brunette could feel his own cheeks heating up now, “It’s not a joke, I do, I’m sorry, but I do,” he managed after a moment. “Oh,” the blond’s eyes shot straight down to the shorts Alex had on, falling on the visible hardness there, “Oh,” he repeated, but with much more understanding this time. There were still tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall, but he was visibly less mortified, “Alex, that is so disgusting...” “I know, shit baby, I’m s-” “I can get into it.” “What?” “I said, I can get into it,” Henry repeated, “Well, honestly, I could probably get into anything that makes your cock hard, because- well frankly I reap the benefits of that. Would you like to fuck my throat?”

AND A NEW WIP, Hairstylist Henry and his least (read as favorite) Client Alex

“Alright, tilt your head back,” both of Henry’s hands rested on Alex’s temples, carefully moving the other man’s head into the perfect place, “Do you want me to stop under the jawline?” “Whatever you think looks best, sweetheart.” Normally, Henry would hate that, some businessman using a pet name on him. But usually it felt demeaning, when Alex did it, it felt genuine, perhaps that was why he didn't mind it. He would rather accept that than admit it might have something to do with how hot his cheeks felt or how his stomach flip flopped. Instead, he chose to focus on something else, like the familiar but luxurious scent becoming more evident the closer he was to Alex. “Santal 33?” the blond asked, running the trimmers over the other man’s jawline, making careful precise lines that would accentuate the sharp angles there. “Yeah,” impressively, Alex had answered that without much movement of his face; Henry was astonished. “Makes sense.” “What is that supposed to mean?” this time, the brunette moved, but he did have the mind to wait until Henry was running the trimers along his throat with less chance of Alex’s jolt messing up something. “It means you look like someone who has good taste, don’t move.” “You’re worse than a dentist,” Alex grumbled. “Stop moving, christ you’re an absolute menace, I’m going to slice your throat open.” “With an electric trimmer?” “I’m certain if I make enough effort, I just may be able to pull it off,” Henry snapped.

OKAY, that was a long one, if you stuck around thank u I love u. TAG LINE UP!!!!

@taste-thewaste @eusuntgratie @henrysfox @thighzp

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @onthewaytosomewhere + literally anyone else I'm sleepy and forgot, or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[cdroloisms]

a little ramble about dreblr, meta, and the ever evolving nature of this fandom, i guess?

i don't mean to soapbox, this is mostly just going to be vomiting some thoughts into a post. some recent stuff and a post or two have had me thinking about this fandom and how different it is from when dsmp was ongoing. it's,, pretty obvious that the fandom is quite a bit smaller and less active than that time, and there are generally a lot fewer people actively posting meta and such every day--which isn't necessarily a bad thing, and is natural obviously considering that the dsmp ended almost 2 years ago, but does mean that the culture around (?) meta and such has shifted, as well. it's one of those things too i think that is felt so much more obviously in dreblr, which is an even smaller group within this fandom that formed in response to uhhh being very much considered unwelcome by the greater fandom at the time.

that being said, as is the nature of all fandom, dreblr is still a community of people who are largely strangers who have gathered together because of one commonality: very strong feelings and often very strong opinions on the dream smp and c!dream. and i think when the fandom was more active, the entire fandom felt a lot more like a "pvp enabled" zone, lmao -- it was every other day when there'd be some new batshit meta about c!dream or some stream to react to and analyze and fight people about and whatever. since then, though, with the dsmp gone, the fandom has become quieter -- which i think has allowed some of the variation in opinions within dreblr become more and more obvious? and also become a sort of source of friction.

again, this is normal for any fandom. i'm certainly not here to agree with everyone about c!dream always, lmao. but the vagueing of takes is always more awkward on both sides when it's someone where you share more of the same circles. at the end of the day, it's up to each individual blogger's discretion to choose what they will or won't post on their own blog, but at the same time ... when it comes to the community, just speaking for myself, i don't want a super high barrier of entry when it comes to people feeling like they can't join this fandom unless they've got [xyz] experience or [xyz] takes.

when it comes to actual analysis of the source material, though, keeping meta a safe place for people to say "no, i don't agree with this take because of [xyz]" is important as well, which always raises the question of how said disagreements should be handled. and again, i'm no authority, i'm not here to tell people what to do. personally, when it comes to my own blog, i don't like to post very much directly about any one blogger, but I know I've definitely written posts inspired by specific takes before as well as screenshots of takes from the fandom's heyday, etc. i don't necessarily feel uncomfortable with this ...? but at the same time, i know that vagueposts can be a source of discomfort, especially if they're about your take in particular (speaking from experience) -- so it's you know. not the easiest line to draw, I guess, especially when we're talking about a community where different people are going to have different levels of comfort with what they post on their own blogs and what other blogs do in response to their takes. and whatever.

vagueposting, i think, has been common in the tumblr dsmp fandom for a long time, and especially in dreblr -- direct engagement in the past errr usually went badly, so a habit formed of keeping everything we did kind of within our own spaces (hence why many of us don't even tag c!dream or even dreblr on most of our posts; keeping everything untagged, or keeping the tagging system restricted to our own blogs, limited the possibility of trouble). that being said, vagueing within dreblr has become more common, i think, as disagreements within dreblr have become more and more obvious in the time since the dsmp ended. (just for the obvious example: i think it's a bit of an open secret that i, personally, strongly disagree with much of the common depictions of c!drunz in this fandom. i've written some meta about this before, as well as some responses to meta--which i enjoyed greatly, believe me--but i've also noticed (perhaps coincidence) an uptick in c!drunz positive meta every time i or someone else makes a post that maybe skews more negative. which is normal, don't get me wrong, but also a pattern i've noticed. i'm also very aware that someone the arguments i may bring up as counterarguments or structure my posts around arguing against are based on actual arguments i've seen while in this space, which i'm aware is an easy source of friction within dreblr.) and it's easy to say "don't take it personally when it's just metaanalysis," but that's easier said than done, lmao, especially depending on the tone of the vaguepost and a myriad of other factors.

i'm not saying that i have the answers. or, for that matter, a single answer. the boundaries i set aren't going to be the same as the boundaries other people set, for one, and i have no desire to police what other people do on their own blogs. i do miss, sometimes, the more collaborative and discussion-based meta experience of this fandom when it was more active--i might try to more actively reblog posts (including those i don't necessarily agree with) to discuss this server and these characters, bc at the end of the day that is kind of why we're here. personally, i've always drawn a pretty sharp distinction between fanwork and analysis -- i think it's pretty bad form to criticize people's AUs In General (not that i've not. been guilty of it in the past, but i try at least to keep it to criticizing more general patterns within fanwork; look, i'm not going to claim a moral high ground, i love bitching way too much and should probably get a handle on that but asj;lkfdsaf) but when we're talking meta about the source material, barring shit like. you know, harassment and otherwise abusive behavior, i do consider it more of a free-for-all. at the same time, i know that these standards can lead to newer fans feeling like they're going to be booed out the door for sharing their thoughts, which, i mean, isn't great 😭😭😭 fresh eyes can bring a lot of really cool new insights, and it'd suck pretty damn bad to miss that because they don't feel welcome, yknow?

anyway, this is a very inconclusive post, but i thought i'd just throw some of my thoughts out as someone who has been here for a decently long time. and if you want to discuss w/ me, inbox and dms are always open :)

[iolaussharpe-24]

Barbie in the Mojave - Chapter Two

Thank you to everyone who supported chapter one! You're all lovely!

❤️Taglist❤️

(Let me know if you want to be added or taken off for chapter three. No feelings will be hurt.)

@waywardrose, @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @lunar-ghoulie, @ominoose, @reallyrallyauthor

@steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @have-you-seen-my-sanity, @missdictatorme, @angelitawings

@outey-spacey, @autismsupermusicalassassin, @mandytrekkie

Feel free to ask questions about anything as well. I'm happy to talk about my process with anyone that's interested.

Chapter Two: Bad Smells and Worse Ideas

Barbie and Ken stopped and sat down, exhausted. Both of them were tired and panting. Both of them had sore feet (though Barbie’s were considerably worse because of her heels). Both of them were soaked in water despite never being anywhere near water. Both of them were mourning their perfectly styled hair. Ken’s was drenched and stuck to his forehead, dripping in front of his eyes. Barbie’s had gotten frizzy and wild, sitting on her head like one of the dried out brown bushes they walked past. Her headband wasn’t doing much to keep it under control either. Each and every blonde strand had gained sentience and turned against her.

They had walked a long way. The car wasn’t anywhere in sight anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. The sea of sand had slowly but surely started to become solid rocky ground with dry plants sprouting from split stones and small animals and bugs scurrying into little holes at their feet as they came near.

The sun was setting behind them, making their shadows stretch out several feet in front of them as the air turned cold and the sky began to change colors overhead.

“Barbie, shouldn’t we have found the speedboat by now? This place is like an endless beach without the beach!”

“It’s called a desert.”

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

“I think so.”

“Well what did Weird Barbie say?”

“We’re doing what Weird Barbie said.”

“Wandering aimlessly?”

“For the last time, she didn’t give me directions! I was told to drive a sports car to a speedboat to a rocket ship to a tandem bike to a camper van to a snowmobile to roller blades and then I’d be in the real world where I’d find my kid by equally unspecified means! I don’t know what I’m doing or how I’m supposed to do it, but I want to get it done so that we can go back home and everything can go back to normal.”

He contemplated that for a minute, then smiled brightly. “And then, when we can do boyfriend girlfriend things together. Right?”

She nodded, just to make him stop asking questions. “Sure Ken…. It’s getting late,” she added with a sigh. “We should probably camp out… somewhere. Get some rest so we can keep walking in the morning. I was hoping to be done and home by now, but nothing’s been going right, has it?”

It was annoying. Very, very annoying. All of it. She felt like she was going crazy. She knew that there were going to be differences between Barbieland and the Real World. She did. It was a logical inevitability that only made sense. After all, they are two different worlds. Different realities that were affected by one another, but still very much separated from each other. It sounded absolutely insane, but it did, for some bizarre reason, make a weird amount of sense. Like old sitcoms with a supernatural or otherworldly element that everybody treated like a completely normal thing.

Ugh.

Ken was crouched down with a pile of sticks in front of him, hitting two rocks against each other repeatedly. Trying to start a fire. Fair enough. Just like how the sun had seemed hotter than they were used to in Barbieland, the night air, in turn, was colder. Even in the winter, when everyone tended to bundle up in thick coats and fuzzy boots, the cold never really affected them. This did. It was making Barbie’s skin break out into a thousand tiny bumps that gave her a weird tingling sensation as they appeared.

Must be another human thing. Another problem to fix. Like the cellulite on her legs. She shivered at that thought. Would this spread too? At least the cellulite was easy to hide. It was just on her thighs and was easily covered up as long as she wore longer shorts and skirts.

Their clothes sat in a heap near the place they’d decided to call their campsite, despite not having a dream camper or a tent or a backpack or even a sleeping bag – which was the absolute barest minimum of camping gear they could have possibly had on hand. They’d been forced to carry everything while they walked who knows how far for who knows how long and when they finally decided to stop, they’d just dumped everything unceremoniously in the dirt and used their skates, pads, helmets, and Barbie’s hairbrush to hold down their clothes.

She reached up and felt her frizzy tangles. Felt like a bird’s nest. Probably looked like Weird Barbie’s hack job of a haircut. So, just to feel like she had some control over something, she picked up her brush and started trying to tame the beast on her head.

“I think I saw a spark!”

Ken did not see a spark.

Barbie didn’t have it in her to tell him though. Instead, she praised and encouraged him to keep trying. Saying, “You’ll get a fire in no time,” and genuinely hoping that he would. Maybe that was what was so wrong with everything. Fear and negativity. Maybe, if she just tried to keep a positive attitude, and kept smiling, and tried to go on like her world wasn’t turning upside down, she’d manifest that reality and everything would go back to normal on its own. Or, at the very least, they might get lucky.

It took hours before either one of the two dolls could start a fire. And, by the time they did, it had already gotten cold. To keep warm, the two of them mixed and matched the clothes they brought to cover up as well as they could since they tiny flame they made wasn’t providing them with any kind of warmth whatsoever.

Barbie was in a pair of hot pink ankle boots that didn’t match her pants, and a baby blue long-sleeve shirt that didn’t match anything. Ken had closed his jacket, put on a pair of low waisted jeans, and swapped his sandals for his neon yellow roller skates, though he removed the neon pink wheels from the bottom to make it easier on him to walk in the morning.

After a few moments of sitting side by side to keep warm, Ken lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Smell what?”

“I don’t know. Something smells… bad.”

Automatically, Barbie turned her head away from her friend, breathed into her hand, and sniffed. Not great. Not terrible. But not great. Think that this wasn’t what Ken was smelling, she lowered her hand and sniffed as well. That’s when she noticed it. A sour smell in the air.

She scrunched up her nose at it at first.. and then realized that it seems awfully close.

For no real reason at all, Barbie lifted her arm and smelled the underside.

Oh. My. God.

She retched and lowered her arm so fast she was impressed that it didn’t snap clean off at the joint. Ken looked at her, confused, and she forced herself to smile and pretend that it was nothing. Even as she dug her nails into her biceps just to make sure that he arms stayed down in an attempt to keep the smell from coming out.

She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Why was her body doing all these things it wasn’t supposed to? First, she was leaking water, her hair was messed up, then she started getting bumpy, and now she smelled?! And that wasn’t taking the fact that she got lost or the wrecked car into account, or any of things that happened before she left Barbieland. This was all in the past few hours.

What could possibly be going on in this little girl’s life to change her like this? It didn’t make sense. How could anything be so wrong with a human that it punched its way through to another world just to drastically alter a Barbie in so many awful ways? It was like time and space and fate had it out for her or something! Worse than Raquelle at her most infuriating. Worse than-

Her thoughts were cut short by a sound in the distance. It was loud and shrill and, like so many other disembodied noises in the dark, was both familiar and strange. It sounded like a dog’s howl in the middle of the night, but it was twisted. It was wrong. And it wasn’t alone.

More howls accompanied the first like a choir singing a chaotic chorus together. One by one they sounded off, the noise echoing in the distance. Barbie looked out into the darkness ahead, unable to see anything at all. Ken did the same, though for a very different reason. He started walking away from her.

“What are you doing?!”

“Dogs! I want to pet the dogs!”

She stared at him, incredulous. “Ken! We don’t know anything about this place! And that doesn’t sound like Skipper walking a group of dogs to me. There’s no one around. We’re out in the middle of nowhere! This is a bad idea.”

“Hey, when it comes to petting dogs, there are no bad ideas.”

“If we were still in Barbieland where we know all the dogs!”

He wasn’t listening. He was just marching off blindly into the dark, his silhouette growing darker and darker. Blending into nothing.

“Don’t go too far! I don’t want you to get lost!” she called out desperately.

Ken didn’t answer. He might have been too far already.

Despite how annoying he could be, Ken was still her friend. She cared about him. Didn’t want him to get hurt. As of right now, he was the only piece of home she had with her. Well, him and a small pile of stuff she had been forced to carry since the car crashed, but she couldn’t talk to a cute skirt the way she could Ken.

She hoped that he had enough common sense to stay close.

Despite poor Barbie’s warning, Ken couldn’t see any harm in wanting to pet a dog. Or a cat for that matter. Or a horse. He loved horses. More, he suspected, than Western Stampin’ Ken did. Animals in Barbieland were always friendly and cute easy to handle. Always. And the Real World counldn’t be that different from Barbieland. It just couldn’t. Their world was made to resemble the Real World. To fix all of the problems the humans faced. That’s what the Barbies and Kens were made for in the first place. An unfriendly animal, especially a dog, felt nothing short of unnatural to him.

She was just being paranoid. Had to be. He’d never known her to be paranoid before, but he’d never known her to have any malfunctions either. This must be one of them. Yeah, that made sense to him. In fact, it made so much sense that it might have just been the reason why Barbie wanted to do this alone. She didn’t want anyone to see how bad this problem could get! He could understand that. If there was a chance that she could end up like Weird Barbie living away from everyone else in the Weirdhouse with all of the recalled Barbies and Kens, it only made sense that she wouldn’t want anyone to see that. In her position, Ken wouldn’t want that either.

Another howl sounds as he walks. That’s a good sign, right? Means he’s getting close. Like how being far away from something made it look smaller. But in reverse.

Excited, Ken walked faster. He thought about all the dogs he’d met in Barbieland and how cute they were. With their big eyes and black noses and little smiles. He even loved the old Taffy dog with her three puppies. Two of them had bobble heads, and the third one needed to be potty trained. That’s why the Barbie that owned them all always had a few newspapers in her dreamhouse. She always let him pet and play with them when he saw her.

Just as he was starting to smile from the memory, he stopped in his tracks. There was a dog in front of him. A little puppy.

It had tan fur and a cream colored underbelly. Big black eyes that stared straight at him. It wasn’t smiling though, that was weird. But the same black nose he always loved nuzzling his own against. It stood perfectly still, watching him as he watched it.

“Hi there,” he said softly, sinking down to his knees. He slowly held out his hand and cooed, “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s Ken.”

The puppy stared at him, then stepped forward, sniffing his hand. It yipped at him and two more puppies came out from around the corner to join the first.

In that moment, he just knew that Barbie was going to be jealous. He’d tell her that he found puppies and that he got to play with them, and she was going to look at him and say, “I wish I’d gone with you.” He just knew it. What else would she say? He was right. There’s absolutely no way that petting a dog can be a-

Grrrrrrrr…

That wasn’t a good sound.

Looking up at the rocky side of the plateau, Ken saw two more dogs. Fully grown ones. Their teeth were showing as they growled at him. The blond stood up straight, still smiling. “Hi! These little cuties must be yours.”

One of the dogs jumped down, still growling at him, it’s ears low, teeth bared. Then the other dog jumped down to join the first. And a third came from behind him.

His smile fell at bit as he watched. They reminded him of something… unpleasant. Something he’d seen in some of the older movies while at the theater with Barbie. Maybe she was right… maybe this actually was a bad idea. He hadn’t thought that was even possible until now.

Oh no.

Ken took a few steps backwards as one of the dogs started to snap at him, still snarling while it did. He raised his hands, showing the dog his empty palms. “Woah, woah, easy. Easy. I’m not going to hurt you. Or the puppies.”

A loud BANG! sounded from the darkness, echoing through the valley that Ken had been walking in. Almost immediately after, one of the dogs let out a pained whine unlike anything Ken had ever heard in his life. The others turned and ran away while the one that cried fell to the ground, a thick red liquid soaking its fur on one side. He’d never seen anything like it before and… wow… he was thinking that a lot lately, wasn’t he? The Real World was so different from Barbieland. Even the things that were familiar were different.

He looked down at the dog lying at his feet. It wasn’t moving. Wasn’t making any noise. It was more like the dogs back home that way. But in a bad way. A way that made him… not happy. Very not happy. It was like how he felt when Barbie turned down his attempts at doing boyfriend/girlfriend things to have a party with the other Barbies but it wasn’t that. This was different. Like everything else in this world.

He knelt down beside the dog and put his hand on it’s snout. It didn’t react. The fur was coarse and warm. But… it was getting cold. Fast.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know what was happening. All he knew was that he didn’t like the way it made him feel.

Dirt crunched under heavy boots behind the blond while he knelt over the animal. He looked up to see a man wearing a long coat and a hat standing there. The first person he’d seen aside from Barbie since they left home.

“You lost, brother?”

[creatingblackcharacters]

Also gonna send my criticisms of The Walking Dead TV show's treatment of Black characters as a separate ask.

So, to put it simply. The Walking Dead show has a horrible tendency of killing off its Black characters. Like, to the point it's a semi-common joke/theory that they have a quota on how many Black characters they can have.

Spoilers for most of the TV show, continue at your own risk

At the start of the show, we have two Black characters; Jacqui and T-dog. Jacqui only appears in the first season (7 episodes). She had very little presence in the show, only showing up for brief dialogue or to guide the other characters. She dies comforting a (white) man, who she decided to not leave alone in his final moments.

T-dog lasts three seasons (22 episodes) and gets more time in the spotlight. He's quiet, compassionate, and very selfless, the kind of guy who spent the early days of the apocalypse transporting old people to safety in a church van.

He also gets called the n-word and is beaten horribly within the first few episodes by Merle (...who is widely loved by the fandom despite this). T-dog still attempts to save Merle's life later, as Merle was, himself beaten up and cuffed to a pipe after committing a hate crime.

Throughout most of the series he's a pretty regular good guy. He's resistant to hurting people (even in self defense), he helps out other survivors, very normal stuff.

Then he dies while saving another (white) character.

Then we meet Big Tiny, Andrew, and Oscar, a trio of Black prisoners. Big Tiny dies almost instantly. Andrew is killed by Oscar. Oscar is killed during a rescue mission for two other characters (one white).

Then we meet Bob! He's another normal, decent man, doesn't stand out much. Then he's bitten by a zombie and has his leg eaten by (mostly white) cannibals. Tyreese puts him out of his misery.

Tyreese and Sasha are a pair of siblings. Sasha survives for most of the show, Tyreese survives a couple seasons. He's strong, protective, quiet, and wise. He beats up zombies with a hammer, pretty cool.

He is bitten by a zombie and dies not long after a new Black character is introduced.

That brings us to Noah; he's polite, helpful, intelligent, and interested in architecture. He even builds a close friendship with another member of the main cast.

Then a white man sacrifices him to zombies to survives. And he just... kinda allows it so the other guy present can survive.

Let's not forget about Sasha. She gets a pretty long run on the show; she's loyal, practical, has strong morals, is a great leader, and is amazing with a gun. She even has a couple romance arcs... one with Bob (the guy who got eaten), and the other is a man who is violently beaten to death in front of her.

She commits suicide and becomes a zombie to avenge her second boyfriend (who was white), attempting to bite the man who killed him.

I'm sure you can see the pattern... Black characters die and are replaced by a shiny new Black character. When they die, it's often directly connected to a white character.

If I remember right... around three Black main characters made it to the end of the show.

In comparison, three of the four Telltale games put their Black characters front and centre (the third game stars a Latino man, but a Black girl is still the deuteragonist). These characters are varied, loved by their peers, people sacrifice for them, people want to save them.

Well I guess I have no interest in ever watching this, huh 🤣 my reactions

Jacqui: 🙄 of course

T-Dog: shoulda left dude stuck to that pipe. Let a zombie get him, even. How do you find time to be racist during a zombie apocalypse? Nah, I'd let him die. He better than me.

Big Tiny, Andrew, and Oscar: here one moment gone the next

Bob: poor Bob 😭

Tyreese and Sasha: no, Tyreese 😭

Noah: is Noah the one that was played by Tyler James Williams?? Where he got caught in the spinning door? Because I remember that shit! I remember being HORRIFIED bc omg that's 1) Chris and 2) WHY IS HE DYING?? 3) now im scared of revolving doors

Sasha: 🙄🙄🙄🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️ now Sasha. Girl.

That is too much lmao damn.

[sadstrever]

i’m still 114lbs. i feel sick. yesterday was an awful day, i came home and had an out of body chew and spit session. i wish there was more research on this part of ed’s, or just more people who talked about it because i can’t be alone in this. i refuse to believe i’m the only sick person who does disgusting shit like this. anyways the reason why i call it an out of body experience is because it’s almost like binging-just without all the swallowing of food. i came home and immediately started doing it and filled up 1 and 1/2 2 liter bottles with food. i spent 5 hours doing this without even realizing and pretty much emptied out my whole families fridge. the guilt i felt afterwards was worse than a binge in my opinion. not only did i totally waste SO MUCH food, make a huge mess, ended up with disgusting bottles of mush in my room, i also have to face the consequences of my family coming home to an empty fridge. but when they got home they were happy that i “ate.” god i’m such a fucking piece of shit.

anyways after all that i took 4 laxatives to try and get the guilt of wasting the food out of me. i woke up in the morning today in terrible pain but still had to go to class, cuz what am i supposed to tell my parents? “yeah i haven’t eaten in almost a month and basically just threw all the food we have out in the trash and i also took 4 laxatives, can i please stay home tehe?” so i went to 1 class and ended up leaving because the pain was so excruciating. straight from class i went to the gym and somehow burnt 900 calories because i guess that’s what guilt does to me. i had to take the bus 2 hours home afterwards(bus delays and i went to a new further gym location this time), high out of my mind. i’m home now and my stomach hurts but the laxatives finally did their job. i don’t want to keep doing this. 4 years ago i said i’d recover and then i didn’t. since then i’ve forgotten about recovery (with the exception of a few random moments here and there that i block out immediately), i am so used to living in this fucking misery that i didn’t realize how abnormal my reality is. i don’t want to be a bad person anymore. but i can’t stop lol.

this is what bothers me about the girls who romanticize this disorder SO MUCH, when much of the time they haven’t realized how difficult it can become. i know i’ve done this, even now sometimes as a coping mechanism. but man, i’m sick of it.

i have a friend who writes poetry and she wrote a poem about eating disorders that make me so fucking angry. the thing is, i’ve known her for years and she’s always had the best relationship with food out of most of the people i know. she’s naturally pretty thin(not too thin but normal) and she’s very open about her struggles. i know every single one of her stories, i know she’s diagnosed with adhd. that’s HER disorder, that i don’t understand so i DONT write fucking POETRY about it. a few months ago she kind of forced me into opening up about my eating disorder. after i did, suddenly she started writing these stories about her eating disorder-very very very suspiciously similar to mine. i obviously didn’t tell her everything but i told her about how long this has been going on and just my emotions about it. seeing her start to adapt my fucking disorder into her poetry disgusted me. she glamorized the fuck out of it and made me feel so stupid for ever opening up about it. she’s naturally skinny so she got a bunch of support from our friend group from it and i’m just upset man. i’m sick of living in misery while other people can use the idea of living in pain for attention.

i promised my best friend that in 3 weeks i’ll go back to therapy and try my best to recover. it’s not true. man it’s never fucking true. it’s never fucking over. unlike ms.deep-poetry-girl i can’t just fucking write this and log off and then eat a good warm meal and talk to my parents without them mentioning my body. i can’t wake up tomorrow morning and hug them without worrying that they’re gonna feel my bones. i can’t wear shorts anymore without people noticing the bruises. i can’t go to school and keep my focus because i have nothing to feed my brain. i can’t let anyone get close because soon enough they’ll be just like YOU. OR they’ll hate me for not wanting to get better. i can’t love myself like you do because of the disgusting things i do each day. i can’t wake up thinner and suddenly stop hating myself. FUCK YOUUUUUUUU GOD IM SO SICK OF IT GOD. whatever im done. just sick and tired.

[moonshynecybin]

always thinking about that isekai’d into omegaverse you talked about in like 1.5 asks. marc WOULD very much enjoy heats after the initial shock + control freak suddenly can’t control things freakout… he loves to push his body to the absolute edge he would be trying to WIN. (and succeeding. wap too strong) crazy eyes locked in stare you normally only see on his bike

SO fun to think about especially as marc in this is not actually born into omegaverse and instead it has been thrust upon him. pun intended. like he gets sent to this universe and what is even the rosquez HISTORY there. is it a half broken bond situation. is it a regular heat hookup thats NEVER discussed. have they not had sex for yearsssss since sepang or argentina. have they never had sex EVER despite crazy chemistry because they are both subliminally aware that they would bond and they cant fucking do that because of vale's hangups. have they never had sex because EVIL dorna has FORBIDDEN IT between riders and neither of them knew how to deal so the relationship EXPLODED... its all a very rich playground of yaoi backstories to drop never been fucked normal ass marc marquez smack dab in the middle of for me !!!!

but yeah it’s like. in the middle of feeling off balance and insane and tethered to vale/body out of his hands in a way that somewhat makes his control freak ass self uneasy it’s also like. something INTENSELY physical that he sink into and let his instincts take him where they may. he loves that shit. pushing his body to its limit leaning into the base feeling clawing at his hindbrain and not inhibiting himself whatsoever AND vale is there all over him? like he’s GOOD at it and vale is over him and under him and inside him in a way he never thought would happen and it’s overwhelming and through the haze of scent and lust there’s this moment where for the first time in like ten years he can look at vale and know he’s here with marc and not have to THINK about the complex mess of hurt and ego that their relationship has become and he can just let himself get FUCKED. and yeah lol he loves it

[keepthedelta]

Maybe I'm being overly cynical (I Do Not know these people and this is just my outsider view), but the whole 'Piastri family social media' stuff has made me uncomfortable from the start because (to me) it gives off huge 'chasing clout and followers by using my famous family member'

None of them were particularly active social media posters before, none of them had an interest in influencing or building a career from it. But, suddenly now Oscar is more popular they are posting A Lot. (For comparison, someone like Max's sister has definitely used her brother to her advantage in gaining a following and popularity, but, she also seemingly always had an interest in fashion and makeup and having a career in it + her posts are not about Max/F1 directly)

It's only going to cause headache and pain and sorry, if my brother was famous, I would not want to even remotely see people thirst trapping him or shipping him romantically with people. Why would you invite that into your space. Also, if I was on Oscar's PR team I'd be fucking worried because what happens if your mother or sister says/posts something that is controversial or actually bad. That now will have a huge audience and actually affect how people see Oscar, and he will be obligated to comment on it. And, if he doesn't, it will be to his detriment (See Max and the Piquet family)

Obviously, fans should just act fucking normally, but we all know that isn't how things work on the internet. You sometimes have to take steps yourself to avoid getting into those situations.

see i personally don't view it as them using him for clout because i think that it is at minimum a symbiotic relationship from which they both benefit. i am a long time hater of the piastri family socials, but i have disliked it because in my personal opinion oscar's family are being used as fodder for his pr.

you say they weren't really active before oscar's career in f1 but even if they are seeking to become influencers etc. which i cannot confirm or deny because i don't know them and frankly have no interest in them, the main reason imo that they did become more active was for oscar. it seems as though his pr is very much trying to portray him as a normal, down to earth relatable kind of guy. a gen z kimi raikkonen who is very calm and level headed (even if he's nothing like kimi, nor honestly is kimi like that). and it benefits oscar (and by extension his pr team) for him to have a cool mum who says funny things on twitter and cool young sisters interested in kpop etc. who aren't impressed by him. his image benefits from the "normal family guy" aesthetic.

there's a reason dts wanted to film him having breakfast with his family. his family has become a part of his media strategy. his mother goes on podcasts or whatever as part of his pr strategy. she is there to talk about him and to promote him without it seeming like promotion. you think if oscar or his team didn't want that she would still have gone on? i don't. that's not to say she's being disingenuous or inauthentic, but i'm sure someone went through roughly what media narrative they wanted to tell and how she should tell it. they are part of oscar's media strategy. they're there to make people think that he's normal and just some guy who happens to be an exceptionally talented driver.

i don't know if his family are benefitting from his fame or to what extent they may be but it's not oscar who should be worried about fan response to his family, it's them. they are being used as a proxy personality for him (and i know that sounds mean but it's not intended as criticism of oscar himself) and at some point things are going to get nasty. what happens if oscar and lando get into an actual wdc title fight at some point? what happens if the chirlies or cultLH turn on him and his fans? oscar has the protection of being a famous f1 driver. his family don't. people will send death threats to his sisters or turn up at his mum's house. they'll search through everything they've ever posted looking for a miniscule detail to cancel them over and justify their hatred and abuse.

everyone involved in this, oscar, his family, his pr team, mclaren, their pr team, needs to recognise that enabling these parasocial relationships, letting people think of oscar's mum as their friend or mum figure, letting people think it's okay to send his sister rpf as though she's their friend is not acceptable. there do need to be boundaries (frankly i think that all f1 drivers need much stricter boundaries than they currently have because some fan behaviour is worrying. people have already shown up at charles's house this is not a worst case scenario it's already happening) for the safety of everyone involved.

i do also think there's something to be said about fan culture and the increasing entitlement to a public figure's life. as fans i think we all need to be a lot more respectful of these people, whether they're famous or simply connected to someone famous. at the end of the day they are people and should be granted basic respect and privacy because they are people. we do not know them, we are not friends with them. how we feel about them should have no bearing on their lives.

but public figures personal lives are increasingly being used for promotional purposes and i think they need to recognise that they are feeding the entitlement and aggression of fans when they do that. the reason why fans get more and more demanding is because people keep offering up more of themselves and their families for promotion. and i think that needs to stop before someone gets hurt.

[randomfoggytiger]

I don't want to shame or be age-ist, but why did they bring in Mimi Rogers as Diana? She looks so much older than both Scully and Mulder. Was she hot and in the market in the 90s? I can see that her assertiveness and self-assuredness could be attractive, but she just didn't seem to "fit in". It's almost as if Mulder went for her because of mommy issues and looking for an older woman like Scully did with Daniel and her daddy issues.

I don't know anything about the actress. My issue is just with the casting and that she fit more in line with being an older character that came across, to me, more like a wicked step mother than a potential mate.

I don't think the question is ageist. :DDD It's a reality that she does look older than Mulder-- but that really works for canon.

Actually factually, they hired Mimi Rogers because DD acted with her before (The Rapture); and he likes to bring his friends forward into new projects. But her casting also enabled David and Mimi to take their characters' interactions in a slightly different direction than the script dictated.

I get you completely, Anon-- and I agree. That angle worked for me, however: it underlined Mulder's personal growth over the past five years (and showed how glaringly unimportant Diana had become.)

Diana Fowley: the Definition of Manipulative Comfort

(Credit to: @iddoitforfreebaabe)

In the script, CC wrote Diana as a knock-out who subtly wielded her sexual prowess to draw Mulder's attention away from "the truth" (and to make Scully jealous, ahem ahem.) There was a sneering, preening quality to her that isn't present with Mimi Rogers. And I like that change; because five years and a thriving partnership have changed Mulder as a person-- not completely, but enough. Sneering, preening superficiality would repel, not attract, the person he's become.

Moreover, Mulder is a man so haunted by his past that he sees his sister in every little girl-- or, to the point, he sees the love and security he lost in childhood in every feminine, devoted, almost nurturing brunette. (He's drawn to women who promise love, companionship, and ease up front, only to be duped by their intentions and strung along with breadcrumbs of affection later.) I don't think he's looking for other sisters or other mothers in his selection process; just that their standard of beauty has been normalized since childhood. Importantly, we see his own distinct sexual preferences separate from his traumas: Mulder is attracted to intelligent, outspoken women, be it Pheobe Green or Diana Fowley or Dana Scully (or Bambi Berenbaum, etc.) This trait doesn't define his on-screen interactions with Tena Mulder-- a very passive, emotional woman when around him-- nor distinguish Samantha in his memories. They weren't idiots, certainly; but that's not how he selectively remembers them.

Back to Diana.

THE NATURE OF DIANA AND MULDER'S PAST RELATIONSHIP

Diana Fowley is the perfect archetype of a person who latches onto potential-- for intelligence and companionship-- and stays until she decides to leave (cutting loose ends cleanly, and purposefully parting friends.) Relationships are for advantage, positive or negative.

We know this because of her reappearance: in The End, Diana expects to waltz back in and turn Mulder's affections back to herself with the snap of her fingers; in The Beginning, she chastises Mulder for doubting her dedication and loyalty to the files (read: him); and in One Son, she foists a kiss on Mulder when he is at his lowest point.

She's not a mother figure but a dangerous second thing: a prey animal who locates the wounded boy in the man and weaponizes that to her advantage-- hence, her full name (Diana meaning 'goddess of the hunt'; Fowley, a spin on the word fowler or snare.) (It's not until The Blessing Way that Mulder began to question his own mother's involvement in the conspiracy, posts here and here; which provides ample proof of the lengths his ex would have been able to twist him about without his suspicion.) Diana knows how to mask her control through silky "Fox, I know better; and you know I know better" language that skirts his animosity and detection. While Phoebe is cruel and callous and careless-- getting caught-out both times she and Mulder engaged in a relationship of sorts-- Diana is circumspect and calculating and careful. Diana exploits his weak spot-- self-punishment and a desperate need for love-- by disguising her attentions behind loving, near-maternal guidance and protection... something she would have known he lacked after Mulder unveiled his backstory. While Phoebe is reliant on relationships and adoration and praise to feel superior-- unable to face or accept rejection-- Diana doesn't rely on anyone or anything except herself (hence why CSM came to depend on her, too.)

DIANA, THE (PURPOSEFULLY) NOT-SO RAVISHING

All that logic and canonical consistency aside, the beauty in Mimi Rogers's casting is that she isn't a ravishing beauty to Mulder.

Mulder isn't head-over-heels for her like he was Phoebe Green or Bambi Berenbaum or (later) Scully. In the magazines and tapes that aren't his, in his dreams, in his Kill Switch illusion, Mulder fantasizes about larger-than-life sexuality: the Jersey Devil, Phoebe, Bambi, the blonde bimbo nurses, Jade Afterglow, Scully in sci-fi gear, etc. The exaggeration in their presentation captures his imagination and attention. (We see hints of Diana as a wanton, sexually deviant temptress here and there: namely in Mulder's vision of her in Amor Fati-- post here-- where he is not surprised to see her in aggressive, sexy lingerie-- but is surprised to hear she suddenly wants to settle down and have children, post here. And, again, "settling down" is framed as "It's time to grow up, Fox"-- another maternally slanted manipulation.) In casting Mimi, their dynamic changed from Phoebe-Green-enraptured to old-wound-manipulation.

Mulder himself wasn't gutted over their breakup-- telling Diana, without a shadow in his eyes pointing to past hurts or wounds or pain he'd overcome, "I've done okay without you." It was Diana who walked and Diana who returned; but it's Mulder who didn't ask her to stay either time. She was his partner: not in the "wildly understood definition of that term", but a literal partner who discovered the X-Files alongside him, who spent five years of her life with him, and who left-- without regrets, from either side-- for greener pastures. It had been a comfortable, not passionate, relationship. Afterwards, Mulder was content to burrow down in the basement, alone; and resented any intruder into his sanctum after she left.

And when Diana returns, he's stiff, tense; and takes a while to warm up to her presence. Yes, because of his past with her, yes because he hadn't informed Scully of said past; but mostly because he knows Diana is there for a reason. And, profiler that he is, Mulder suspects he's the reason. And he's right.

DIANA FOWLEY V. DANIEL WATERSTON

How does Mulder's draw to Diana differ from Scully's draw to Daniel?

Well, firstly, we have to discuss the similarities. Both Diana and Daniel are older partners, and both put down the instincts of their lovers (or would-be lovers, in Scully's case) to assert their own interests and end goals. ...The similarities largely end there.

The differences, however, point to the nuance of their situations.

Mulder isn't drawn to Diana because she was "his mother"-- he was attracted to her because his inner porch bug is drawn to the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel; and always coaxes him into the dangerous dark and straight towards the beam of a bug zapper. In this case, he got caught in the window screen, peering into the glow of a house but unable to advance towards or retreat from it. Diana and he had good times, comfortable times that they could remember fondly later; but their reminiscing consists of her helping on the files, not the years of their relationship beforehand. In essence, they have "the work"-- in whatever current form that was-- between them and nothing more (in contrast to his bond with Scully, which transcends Mulder's search for "the truth.")

Scully is drawn to Daniel because he is "other fathers"-- a man who not only understands her expertise and passion but rewards it with devotion and pride. While Diana left Mulder and was, apparently, perfectly content to be single as she carried out the Syndicate's aims (or because she left her options open to exploit CSM's interest), Daniel mourned and pined after his loss, letting his cracked marriage dissolve completely and abandoning his daughter to-- hopefully, maybe-- run into Scully someday. Diana and Mulder coasted five years-- another sign their relationship didn't healthily benefit either person-- before they decidedly separated. Daniel and Scully had a stormy (near) love affair, and split after the tempestuous blowout.

(By the way, Mulder and Scully, carry out those patterns with their ensuing relationships: Scully moving fast and strong with Jack and Jerse before they separate; and Mulder coasting on from case-to-couch, phone to his ear when he gets lonely at nights. Their partnership ultimately breaks each other's pattern, posts here, here, and here.)

Diana does fall in love with Mulder, though: by One Son, we see she truly has lingering feelings for her ex-- that take a backseat to her Consortium calling (and lack of characterization)-- and by Amor Fati, her affection has grown enough to manifest guilt, shame, and change-- that results in her death. However: the series portrays this as new emotional growth, not a symptom of their past relationship. Mulder doesn't expect that depth of feeling from her in The End nor The Beginning; nor even Two Fathers and One Son (hence his consternation with Scully's "jealous" suspicions, post here.) Again, "I've done okay without you" speaks volumes-- especially with the twinkle Mulder sports to show Diana that, for the first time in his life, he's found a spark: that his current "relationship" isn't comfortable or stagnant or in the past. (Which is why she reads between the lines and plans to break apart the partnership as deftly as possible.)

CONCLUSION

Hopefully these thoughts helped in some way or form. :DDDDD But what do you think, Anon?

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: Here's the interview mentioned in the tags.

[anna-scribbles]

if the agrestes weren't rich i think that gabriel would be the normal one. like gabe's problem is that he stopped running into natural limits due to absurd wealth and his obsessive nature led him to develop some kind of god complex where he won't accept that anything is out of his control. I think that if gabe was broke again and just simply couldn't afford to go on an international goose chase for ancient magic artifacts of untold power, if he had to work a 9-5 to live and couldn't just disappear into his basement lair to commit domestic terrorism and say evil monologues to himself, then he would be way more normal. he'd just be some guy. he might even let himself have a mowhawk again. but I think that emilie would be way LESS normal if they weren't rich. like emilie needs so many people to be obsessed with her so much all the time in order for her to function. and gabe would still have his toxic codependent obsession with her, sure, but that wouldn't be nearly enough. emilie has to be at the center of the world's spotlight at all times because she doesn't know how to exist if she's not performing. anyway all this to say I am so certain that if the agrestes were not disgustingly wealthy, emilie agreste would one million percent be running a massive family vlogger youtube channel

[simcardiac-arrested]

like tree, like apple

[ghastlyaffairs]

for something as trivial and simple those feelings sure are hard to get rid of

also made a gif a version for fun + alt version with no tears under the cut

the gif is in very low resolution...this is a feature (i could make it bigger but that would require saving each frame individually and than glueing it all together. also i feel like low resolution suits it better. aesthetically and fits the mood)